Artículos de revistas sobre el tema "McLennan Library. Government Documents Department"

After some thirty years dealing with the Federal Depository Library Program (FDLP) as a reference librarian and later as head of Indiana University’s Government Information, Maps, and Microforms Department, I still feel passionate about the role FDLP librarians play in maintaining documents collections and providing easy access to what our governments publish. Throughout my career as a documents librarian, I contended that documents librarians are stuck in the middle: between ensuring access to government information for our researchers and students, and working as an “agent” of the government to protect these collections. I am specifically remembering all the various recalls for specific documents from the Government Printing Office (GPO), a fundamental aspect of FDLP in working with agencies to get depository items. While cleaning up office files in anticipation of retirement a few years ago, I uncovered a few treasures I would like to share with my government documents colleagues.

Forming, accumulating, as well as bookkeeping of documentary resources is one of the traditional functions of a modern library. Library book collections are of exceptional importance for the formation of the national cultural heritage of the state. The Book Exchange Fund (hereinafter – BEF) of the Scientific Library of the Odesa I. I. Mechnikov National University is a part of its Exchange and Reserve Fund. The department is intended for exchange, redistribution, free transfer of documents to libraries and other institutions. BEFs in libraries acquired a legal status in 1959 when a special resolution of the Soviet government was adopted. The documents began to be redistributed through an Exchange and Reserve Fund, which contributed to the preservation of non-core and duplicate editions in some libraries that could be in demand in other libraries. The mechanism for using documents that are in library exchange funds is defined by The procedure for using documents through exchange library funds. In 1947, a BEF for monographic literature was arranged while a BEF for periodicals was allocated. Nowadays the BEF consists mainly of duplicate editions of the University. These are publications highlighting the history of Odesa National University, the works of the teaching staff of the Humanities and Natural Sciences faculties, as well as publications prepared by the Scientific Library staff. The activities of the Department of Rare books are aimed at researching private collections of the Library. Special attention is paid to the research of Ukrainian books from the stackss of the Scientific Library. Employees of the Information and Bibliographic Department publish bibliographic indexes, both thematic and devoted to personalities. It is worth mentioning that the Scientific library exchanges specialized periodicals with partner libraries. The Library has 17 permanent book exchange partners, namely the higher educational institutions, research institutes, the National V. I. Vernadskyi Library of Ukraine. Since 2020 alone, the Library has received through book exchange 860 copies of books and periodicals and sent to its partner libraries 694 copies of current professional University periodicals. This method of periodicals distribution contributes to the popularization of the academic achievements of scientists of the Odesa I. I. Mechnikov National University in the professional community. The content of the BEF is disclosed with the help of a reference apparatus, that is card catalogues and non-annotated bibliographic lists of books and periodicals, posted on the website of the University Library in the section Exchange and Reserve Fund (Book Exchange Fund). The Book Exchange Fund is separated from the main stacks, it is not inventoried and is not used for reader service. The work with the Exchange and Reserve Fund of the Library is ongoing. The Book Acquisition Department is carrying out organization and distribution the documents which come to the BEF, improving the accounting of documents. The Department staff continues processing the reserve part of the Exchange and Reserve Fund selecting copies to replenish the main fund of the Library and removing physically worn copies.

A review of: Lambert, Frank. “Assessing the Authoritativeness of Canadian and American Health Documents: A Comparative Analysis Using Informetric Methodologies.” Government Information Quarterly 22.2 (2005): 277-96. Objective - To assess by means of citation analysis whether the public trust afforded health documents published by the Canadian and U.S. governments is appropriate, and to ascertain whether differences in the respective health care systems influence how publications are produced. Design – Comparative study. Setting – The Canadian Depository Service Program (DSP) and the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) web sites. Subjects – One hundred sixty-six electronic documents sourced from the DSP website, and 284 electronic documents sourced from the DHHS website. Methods – Subjects were randomly selected from repositories offering the most comprehensive collections. Documents with evidence of references to other works used in preparation were separated from those without such characteristics. Data variables were collected from documents with evidence of references. Statistical analysis of the data was undertaken. Main results – Of the respective samples, 89 (53%) from the DSP and 109 (38.4%) from the DHHS contained references. Personal authors were identified in 46 (51.7%) and 63 (58%) of the respective subsets. Handbooks and guidebooks accounted for the largest portion of the DSP subset (29; 32.6%) and government periodicals were the largest constituent of the DHHS subset (41; 37.6%). Scholarly journals were the most common reference type for both the DSP (44%) and the DHHS (58.5%) subsets. The number of references per document was widely dispersed for both subsets; the DSP mean was approximately 64 (SD=114.68) and the DHHS was 73.71 (SD=168.85). Kruskal-Wallis subset analysis of median number of references by document type found differences generalizable to the entire DSP and DHHS populations. Health Canada Reports, handbooks, and guidebooks contained significantly more references than periodical articles or fact sheets. Certain DHSS documents, classified as “other,” contained more references than periodical articles. Canadian documents were more likely to contain references than U.S. documents. Comparison of documents to determine whether one country employs more rigorous citation practices did not produce statistically significant results. U.S. Federal Government documents are more likely to be referenced in other U.S. government health documents, compared to Canadian publications. The presence of references in documents from either country significantly affected likelihood of being cited by web authors. Conclusion – Significant differences in reference use frequencies between DSP and DHHS documents challenges Foskett’s stance that documents of value contain references (Foskett). Use of peer-reviewed scholarly journals for both DSP and DHHS publications was reassuring, suggesting a fairly rigorous publication standard. Reliance of DHHS publications upon federal government documents remains unclear. Referencing of DSP documents, irrespective of reference usage suggests a level of trust towards Canadian government health publications. Web authors appear more comfortable citing referenced DHHS documents. Further study could involve the examination of reference frequency by journal compared against journal impact factors.

The article is devoted to the history of the collections acquisition of the Sverdlovsk Regional Universal Scientific Library named after V. G. Belinsky (SOUNB) in 1940 as a part of the study devoted to the history of the library collections formation. The efficiency of any library depends on the quality and quantity of the book collections, so the selection of documents is the main function of librarians throughout the entire period of the library existence. The author aims at tracing how approaches to the creation of collections have been changing for the space of work of the Library named after V. G. Belinsky. The purpose of the study is to present the history of the library through the collections acquisition. The task was to find documentary and statistical materials about the activities of librarians working with collections. The history of the acquisition is unstudied yet, therefore, official government documents, publications in the local periodical press and documents from the archive of SOUNB served as sources for research. For the first time, data revealed in the library archive are introduced into scientific circulation, and an attempt is made to recreate the history of the most important component of library activities – the acquisition of the largest library in the Middle Urals. Special attention is paid to the topic of obtaining the mandatory copy, opening the department for blind readers, creating an exchange stock, also the problems of current acquisition, preservation of book collections and lack of the necessary space for their placement are considered. To study the topic, the method of historical alignment of the chronological sequence of events has been applied.

Purpose This scholarly work aims to investigate the business career of Alfred J. Kohlberg, an American importer of hand-embroidered handkerchiefs in 1922-1957. Design/methodology/approach This paper uses archival resources from the National Archives, the Herbert Hoover Presidential Library, the Hoover Institution Archives, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Custom Courts records, Japanese Government records and other government documents. Findings Scholars have focused on how Kohlberg’s political activities paved the way for McCarthyism. The sources of his vast wealth have not received attention. Kohlberg parlayed a 1922 trip to Asia into a highly lucrative importing business specializing in Chinese napery. By 1930, he mostly imported hand-embroidered handkerchiefs for sale in upscale American department stores. He employed as many 12,000 people in his Shantou godown and contracted for the employment of at least 100,000 embroiderers and perhaps many hundreds of thousands more. Despite American Government policy and the wishes of other importers, Japanese occupation authority documents show that Kohlberg negotiated a bribe to keep the port open. This paper concludes that Kohlberg’s business reflected traditional Chinese business organization. While he stressed his patriotic activities during the Second World War, Kohlberg promoted his business interest over the national interest. Finally, the Chaoshan Region prospered by providing the modern world with traditional hand-produced goods. Research limitations/implications This work explains how the Chaoshan Region functioned in the global economy. It calls for a deeper examination of this entire industry in China and around the world. Originality/value This work uses documents from multiple archives, including Japan and the USA. It also includes declassified documents from the Federal Bureau Investigation. This work constitutes a template for international business history.

Purpose – This purpose of this article is to suggest that it is possible and desirable to use iPads as a teaching tool in a dedicated classroom in the stacks at an academic library. It examines recent research on smart device use among college students and outlines a pilot program that was developed at Southern Oregon University in the Government Information Department. Design/methodology/approach – The article includes a literature review of recent research that has been done about smart technology usage in the library and highlights information gained by a hands-on approach in a pilot program. Findings – The use of smart technology in a classroom in the stacks is an effective way to engage students in the research process. Using free government apps is a no cost solution to covering a variety of topics and disciplines. Students can gain new insights in how to make their smart technology work for them while conducting research. A supplemental iPad check-out program can enable students to have new meaningful interactions with the library. However, technology does present its own set of problems that can derail the experience in unexpected ways. Originality/value – Free government apps are useful learning tools for college students. These tools can be applied in any classroom where students and professor are equipped with smart devices. The classroom described is unique in that it combines the hard copy materials of the library and the use of the technology to immerse students in a total experience of searching for specific government information resources in the stacks area where the physical documents are housed.

The King Abdulaziz Foundation for Research and Archives (KAFRA) (Arabic title: Darat al-Malik Abdulaziz) was established in 1972 with the aim of preserving the history of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, along with its geography, literature, thought, and architecture. The Foundation is an independent academic establishment governed by a board of directors, chaired by HRH Prince Salman bin Abdulaziz Al-Saud. Its funds are based on project returns, investment activities, government funds, and private donations. Its major sections are: Saudi History Archives, Oral History Center, Information Center, Research Department, Female Center, Ad-darah Journal, the Library, King Abdulaziz Memorial Exhibition Hall, Muraba Palace, and the Royal Family History Center.During its twenty-nine years of existence, the King Abdulaziz Foundation has collected and preserved huge quantities of historical source materials: documents, manuscripts, books, magazines, photographs, sketches, paintings, films, and oral traditions. The Foundation is keen to collect, classify, and preserve historical documents in both original and duplicate forms. It has collected, as well as copied from, various archives and research centers outside the Kingdom.

Based on declassified documents from the Clinton library and the Department of State, this article examines the U.S. decision in favor of restricting the first round of NATO enlargement to only three new members, thus leaving Romania in the waiting room, despite the massive diplomatic efforts of the new government, resulted from the 1996 elections. The article delves into the connection between the open door policy and the NATO-Russia relationship, arguing that the U.S. decision sought to increase confidence in NATO’s promise of having subsequent accession rounds in order to reduce Baltic pressures for membership, to avoid the perception of a Russian veto over NATO decisions and, eventually, to lessen further Russian antagonism by continuing enlargement in a gradual manner and making thereby the process more acceptable to Moscow. The U.S. approach was to start with a smaller group of the strongest candidates while keeping promising candidates for the next rounds in order to guarantee the credibility of the open door policy.

During the 1950s, the Province of Manitoba microfilmed and then destroyed thousands of files created by the federal Department of the Interior’s Dominion Lands Branch (DLB). These records, dating from about 1870 to 1930, were transferred from the federal government to the province in the immediate post-war period. They were drawn from a group of more than 5.6 million files occupying 11,640 square feet of office space in downtown Ottawa. During the Second World War, the civil servants responsible for the DLB files were pressured by their superiors to destroy the files in order to free up space and filing cabinets. DLB officials, although not trained archivists, took their responsibility as custodians of the records seriously and sought to prevent the wholesale and indiscriminate destruction of the files. They were supported by archivists who considered the DLB files to be valuable historical documents on the colonization of Western Canada. Eventually, the conflict between preservation and destruction was resolved by dispersing the records; some were transferred to the western provinces and territories, while the remaining files were deposited in the Public Archives of Canada. The first files to be transferred were those related to lands in Manitoba. This article clarifies the provenance of the DLB’s Manitoba files and argues for their enduring value as records of the history of settler colonialism in the province while also revealing the role of non-archivist civil servants as custodians of government records in the mid- 20th century.

The Arquivo Histórico de Moçambique (hereafter AHM) holds mostly nineteenth- and twentieth-century documentation. Most of the documents available were generated by organs of the public (colonial) administration. There are very few fragmentary private papers (collected as “espólios”) and a few collections of documents originated by companies and associations (e.g., Notícias, Moçacor, ATCM, BNU).In the 1890s, when the administrative capital of Mozambique was still on the Island of Moçambique, António Enes ordered all documents prior to the liberal revolution of 1833-34 to be sent to Lisbon. As a result most of the correspondence between the island of Moçambique and the colonial districts for the period ca. 1750-1830 (correspondence and registers and copies of outgoing correspondence in bound books) was sent to Lisbon where it can be consulted in the original in the Arquivo Histórico Ultramarine Most of these now exist on microfilm in the AHM as well. In the 1930s the colonial intellectuals of Mozambique working in different government services founded a scientific society. The colonial administration added to this a cultural publication (Moçambique, Documentário Trimestral, 1935-1960), and also in 1934 the Arquivo Histórico de Moçambique, which was set up step by step between 1938 and 1940. Originally, this was part of the Library of the Department of Statistics (Costa 1987:4). From 1943 to 1963 it was headed by Lt. Caetano Montez and collected nineteenth- and a few early twentieth-century documents and any archival material tranferred by their originating institutions and partly indexed them.

Based on the documents from Lithuanian and German archives, the material kept in the Manuscripts Department of the Wroblewski Library of the Lithuanian Academy of Sciences, the information published in the press and collections of documents, the article analyzes the context and motives of the appointment of Česlovas L(i)andsbergis to the position of the authorized representative of the Council of Lithuania in Moscow (Russia), the content of the powers vested in him, the conflict with the German Consul General in Moscow, and the motives of his removal from office. It also addresses the circumstances of delegating Tadas Šulcas to serve as the general country representative of the State Council of Lithuania in Moscow, the specificities of the activities of the Moscow Representation of the Authorized Representative of the Council of Lithuania, and return to Lithuania. Particular attention is paid to Germany’s position concerning Lithuania’s diplomatic representation (April — May and July — October), the efforts of German consuls general in Moscow and Petrograd to turn the authorized representatives of the Council of Lithuania into the chairmen of the commissions subordinate to them and the continuous opposition of the Presidium of the Council of Lithuania to the plans of the German government.

For the first time, Ivan Boberskyi's participation in the November events 1918 in Lviv was studied based on various sources: documents of the Central State Archives of Supreme Bodies of Power and Government of Ukraine, the Central State Historical Archives of Ukraine in Lviv, the Ukrainian Catholic University, "Zbirka voiennykh drukiv" of the Scientific Library of Ivan Franko Lviv National University; "Dnevnyk" of Ivan Boberskyi; the private archives of Stepan Haiduchok (Lviv); periodicals "Dilo" and "Vistnyk Derzhavnoho Sekretariiatu Viiskovykh Sprav"; memoirs of people who knew Ivan Boberskyi directly or indirectly. Involving previously unavailable and little-known documents, his activities during this period were reconstructed. The author has concluded that Ivan Boberskyi took an active part in the newly created Ukrainian state - the West Ukrainian People's Republic (WUPR). His activities in the State Secretariat for Military Affairs (SSMA) of the West Ukrainian People's Republic under Dmytro Vitovskyi were covered. Much attention is given to his initiatives on establishing the "Chancery Department" of the West Ukrainian People's Republic, which he headed, the development of documentation (rules, posters, orders, statements, information about soldiers' salaries, etc.), work on the "Vistnyk Derzhavnoho Sekretariiatu Viiskovykh Sprav". It is emphasized that his work on photo-recording of events made it possible to leave for descendants documentary evidence of the course of the Polish-Ukrainian war. The research methodology is based on principles of objectivity, reliability, complexity, and scientificity. Given the informativeness, excerpts from Ivan Bobersky's "Dnevnyk" from November 1 to November 21, 1918, were published. Keywords: Ivan Boberskyi, Lviv, West Ukrainian People's Republic, State Secretariat for Military Affairs of the West Ukrainian People's Republic, "Chancery Department" of the SSMA WUPR, Polish-Ukrainian War 1918-1919.

Introduction. The main corpus of documents on the history of the Astrakhan uprising of 1705– 1706 has been brought into scientific circulation and well studied. However, one of the most important documents – Peter I’s “Letter of Pardon” to the rebellious Astrakhans – was considered lost. Methods and materials. In the collections of the Russian National Library, we managed to find a collection of documents, which are copies of letters and relays addressed to the boyar T.N. Streshnev. It contains copies of two dozen documents for the period from 1702 to 1710. The owner of the collection of copies was a well-known representative of the bureaucracy of the first third of the 18th century, Ivan Topilsky. The manuscript should be dated to the 1720s. Analysis. The collection contains a set of four documents, which are important sources for the study of the Astrakhan uprising. Three letters are addressed to the boyar T.N. Streshnev. Only a letter from the boyar Prince Pyotr Khovansky, commander of the vanguard of B.P. Sheremetev’s troops, which reports on the mood in rebellious Astrakhan, has been introduced into scientific circulation. The letter of Field Marshal B.P. Sheremetev describes the course of hostilities during the capture of Astrakhan by government troops. The text of this letter is close to the text of the previously published letter of B.P. Sheremetev to F.A. Golovin. The letter of the Astrakhan metropolitan Samson is devoted to the description of the final stage of the pacification of the rebels. Most of the text of this document coincides with the letter of the metropolitan to Peter I, which was introduced into the scientific turnover. The fourth document is a list from the hitherto unknown “Letter of Pardon” of Peter the Great to the rebels. Familiarity with the text of the letter confirms the opinion of researchers that the letter was composed in soft tones. Peter I, having learned about the readiness of the rebels to bring their guilt to light, willingly grants them all full forgiveness with the obligation to put the rebellion in “eternal oblivion”, and never “reproach” any of the participants. Results. The text of two unpublished letters of B.P. Sheremetev and Metropolitan Samson to T.N. Streshnev, as well as the previously unknown text of Peter I’s “pardonable” letter, are introduced into scientific circulation for the first time on the basis of a list from the holdings of the Manuscripts Department of the Russian National Library.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to report on the experiences of a large Australian Government department in the successful trialling of a formal reverse mentoring project for developing information technology (IT) competence in executives. Design/methodology/approach – A case study approach was used to collect data from interviews with the organization’s project leader. Data were also sourced from relevant internal documents and appropriate literature. Findings – The results suggest that formal reverse mentoring projects can have additional reciprocal benefits for both parties such as leadership development, knowledge creation and relationship building. Furthermore, it emerged that clear procedures, effective structures and time spent on participant preparation contributed to the project’s success. Research limitations/implications – Findings from a single case study may not be generalizable to all contexts. Practical implications – This paper provides guidance to trainers and leaders in the planning and delivery of an innovative reverse mentoring project for IT competence and beyond. Originality/value – This paper contributes to an understanding of leadership development through mentoring and offers practical assistance to leaders, managers and trainers.

The article is dedicated to one of the “blank pages” in the historiography of Latvian libraries − the beginnings of children’s departments in public libraries and independent children’s libraries, from the idea, its implementation and the first twenty years of operation in the independent Republic of Latvia (1918−1940). As there are no academic or popular publications on this topic, the so-called historical method is used in the research, which allows the reconstruction of the emergence and development of Children’s departments in public libraries and children’s libraries in the context of the library sector’s development in Europe and the United States. The main base of the research: press articles and books of the respective period, as well as documents in the National Archives of Latvia on the children’s departments of Rīga public libraries. The study shows that the ideological justification for free children’s libraries in Latvia was the same as in Russia and Sweden: the public’s desire to protect children and young people from the harmful effects of “pulp” literature (at that time even the term “dirty” literature was used) and to offer them “good” books instead. However, at the beginning of the 20th century, Latvia lacked the main precondition – a network of free public libraries, within which children’s departments in public libraries or independent children’s libraries could be organised. The first children’s department in a public library was only opened in December 1919 in Liepāja (the largest city in Latvia’s Kurzeme region), thanks to the enthusiasm of publicist and politician, library manager Voldemārs Caune and his conviction of the need for such a service. Until the Soviet occupation, it was the only children’s department at a public library in the province. The situation in the capital Rīga was different. Here, the first children’s department aimed at reducing the “book famine” was established by the State Library of Latvia in February 1922, but soon other organisations became involved in the provision of library services to the younger gene­ration. During the first period of independence of the Republic of Latvia, ten Children’s departments were opened in the public library system and at least ten more children’s libraries were opened by charity organisations in different city districts. The encouragement of Caune and like-minded enthusiasts, mostly members of the Latvian Social Democratic Workers’ Party (Hermanis Kaupiņš, Teodors Līventāls, Emma Kalniņa, etc.) also played an important role in their establishment, as did the municipality’s readiness to provide the necessary financial support. Although the Liepāja and Rīga children’s libraries were used very actively, insufficient state and local government funding for libraries hindered the establishment of special library services for children in the rest of Latvia. Thus, until the Soviet occupation in 1940, a network of children’s departments at public libraries and children’s libraries was created only in Rīga. The Soviet occupation saw a new phase in the development of children’s library services, as the establishment of children’s departments at public libraries or separate children’s libraries became mandatory throughout Latvia.

The present research featured the illicit trade in Russian gold and silver coins in Xinjiang in the 1850's. The paper focuses on the problems of control and customs services, as well as on the difficulties connected with the trade in Russian goods. The historical analysis was based on the documents written by Konstantin Adrianovich Skachkov, the then Russian Consul in Chuguchak. The materials were obtained from the Research Department of Manuscripts of the Russian State Library. In his report, Consul K. A. Skachkov compared the state of the markets of the Russian-Chinese trade in Chuguchak and Kyakhta. He highlighted the broad prospects for trade development in Xinjiang. The Consul paid great attention to the problems on the young market of Central Asia and proposed some measures to improve the situation. He performed a comparative analysis of the trading activities of a Russian merchant and a smuggler. The analysis makes it possible to reconstruct the trading process, determine the cost of transportation, and formulate the commercial benefit resulting from the legal trade and the contraband trade. K. A. Skachkov concluded that despite the high potential for trade development, the region was torn apart by substantial internal contradictions and demanded greater attention from the government. The illicit trade in Russian coins was caused by the barter trading on the Xinjiang market in 1850's.

Service delivery within the context of public service is key in sustaining the general wellbeing of the nation while contributing towards general development. Therefore, sound management of records contributes towards effectiveness and efficiency in delivery of public services. This also improves the quantity of information available for enhancing the level of accountability. Hence, this study was an assessment of archives management and service delivery with reference to Kenya National Archives and documentation services. The study specifically focused on; examining the effect of Professional archival management establishing the barriers, and assessing the effect of process control, on service delivery at the Kenya national archives and documentation services. The significance of the study would benefit the government for planning purposes to meet her vision 2030 goals in Service quality delivery. The design to be adopted by this inquiry was the case study which took quantitative approach. The sample of the inquiry covered five record management staff, 12 staff in top management levels, 28 action officers, 36 staff at clerical level and 19 staff from registry department. The key tool for gathering the views of the participants were the questionnaire alongside the interview guides. Prior to gathering of the information, the questionnaire was tested to ensure it was valid and reliable enough. The process of the information gathered was done with aid of content analysis for the open ended responses. For the responses in their quantitative form, frequencies, correlation and regression analysis was embraced. The study found that archival service professionals, archival service process control, user perception and barriers had a positive significant influence on service delivery with reference Kenya national archives and documentation services. The study concluded that the archival service professionals provide important benefits and services, such as organizing and maintaining the documentary record of institutions, groups, and individuals. Archival service process control provides user a greater control over their electronic records, easy to locate documents via keywords or a barcode, the documents are held on secure premises and only authorized personnel have access to them. Users had a negative attitude towards the adoption of digital records management and the extent to which they were willing to adopt digital records management was low and the barriers included poor pay for Kenyan civil servants has resulted in poor performance in terms of service delivery. The study recommended that the organization should provide support from the management staff by enabling them to understand both tangible and non-tangible benefits of records. There should be a creation and execution of records management programs, the revision of archival legislation, the integration of archival institutions under significant and influential government ministries, the development of archives and records management capacity, and the improvement of information access. In order to increase user perception, the organization should provide improvements on its current records management so as to enable management to obtain records that can help them make proper short term and long term plans to facilitate effective and efficient service delivery. The government should introduce E-Government library services, which can have a significant impact on how services are delivered to library patrons.

Purpose – A number of scholars have explored the US Government’s postwar efforts, often in collaboration with the business community, to “sell America” to Americans themselves; others have documented the means through which such information was aimed at audiences behind the Iron Curtain. Few scholars have explored the use of the US “propaganda” to secure political loyalty and financial markets among Western allies, and fewer still have studied the government’s use of commercial marketing methods for this purpose. Attempting to fill a void, this paper aims to explore the US State Department’s postwar collaboration with the Advertising Council, a non-profit organization funded and organized by American business, to “sell” the 16 countries that were receiving aid under the Marshall Plan on “the American way of life”. Design/methodology/approach – Drawing primarily from archival sources, the underlying research here is heavily based on various State Department collections housed at the National Archives in Washington, DC, and College Park, Maryland, as well as documents from the Harry S. Truman Library in Independence, Missouri, and the Advertising Council Archives at the University of Illinois. Findings – In contrast to its many successes during the Second World War, the Advertising Council’s first international project was plagued by erroneous assumptions and unforeseen problems, making the “Overseas Information” campaign far less successful than its previous projects. Thus, the case study holds lessons for the US Government in any future attempts to use the assistance of commercial advertisers in attaining its “soft power” objectives. Research limitations/implications – The study explores the “Overseas Information” campaign from an institutional perspective only. Future research should focus on public perceptions of the campaign and possibly a rhetorical analysis of the actual advertisements. Practical implications – The case study holds lessons for the US Government in any future attempts to use the assistance of commercial advertisers in attaining its “soft power” objectives. Social implications – The study reveals interesting, and heretofore, unrevealed information about collaborations between the government and US business in the postwar era. Originality/value – Up till this point, the Advertising Council’s “Overseas Information” has received very scant scholarly attention and few, if any, have recognized its importance in the ongoing quest for government “soft power” in the postwar era.

The research reveals who and when was authorized to represent the Council of Lithuania in Swe-den, and how the German Government and the military leadership reacted to the documents published by the Lithuanians on the 3rd and the 6th January, 1918 in Stockholm, which were published in the Swedish and Danish press. After the research, we can state that until May 27th, 1918, the Council of Lithuania was unrepresented in Sweden. However, the nation of Lithuania was represented. This function was carried out by the representatives of the Lithuanian Society who have received Charges d`Affaires certificates. They were under the supervision of the Russian Imperial diplomatic service. Neither Jurgis Savickis, nor Ignas Šeinius, nor Jonas Aukštuolis had the authorization from the Council of Lithuania to represent the Council of Lithuania in Sweden. They were correspondents of the Lithuanian Information Bureau (LIB), meaning that they supplied information to the bureau under the leadership of J. Gabrys. After May 27, 1918, the representation of the Council of Lithuania could have been (however it does not mean that it actually was) a component of the representation of the Council of Lithuania in Germany. The reaction of the German government and the German military authorities to the demands set by the Lithuanian Conference in January 3, 1918, in Swedish and Danish press, was very unfavourable, and they have sought for ways to convince the Lithuanians in Stockholm of the „correct way of thinking”. Immediately they have sent J. Šaulys there from Berlin. Until the 6th of January, 1918 – the declaration of independence from Russia as announced in the Swedish press, the German government and the German military authorities were not seen to have a reaction. The research on the representation of the Council of Lithuania in Sweden was carried out on the basis of published (press, published documents) and unpublished sources (from the Lithuanian Central State Archives, the fund of the Political Archive of the German Foreign Office (RZ 201), and the Manu-scripts Department of the Vilnius University Library (F. 155–366)). The research resorted to the methods of qualitative analysis and synthesis (the new material of the sources was supplemented with the infor-mation circulating in historiography), the comparative method (the facts found in Lithuanian and German archives and the press are compared), and the descriptive method. To process the primary sources in Lith-uanian and German languages, the logical–analytical method was applied (the notional content and infor-mation analysis was conducted).

There are 19 unpublished letters written by latter bishop of Zica Jefrem Bojovic, preserved in The Manuscripts Department of The Russian State Library of Moscow. These letters, addressed to Nil Alexandrovich Popov, are part of a personal collection of this famous Russian scholar in the field of history and Slavic literature. Letters from this collection were written from 1874 until 1886, while Bojovic was a student at The Moscow Spiritual Academy and a professor in the Seminary of Belgrade. These letters are a great source for Bishop Jefrem?s biography, especially for understanding his relationships with Russia. They witness a sincere friendship with Popov, one of the most prominent people in relations between Serbs and Russians, during the second half of the 19th century. These letters are important in order to understand Bojovic?s point of view, regarding the issues of Serbian social, political and church life in the 9th decade of the 19th century. Serbian Government led Pro-Austrian politics during that period of time, which affected relationships within Serbian Church and society. The most significant consequence was an uncanonical replacement of the Serbian Metropolitan Mihailo (Jovanovic) and his hierarchy. Bojovic was the first source witness of these events, who was actively supporting Metropolitan Mihailo. During his studies in Russia, Jefrem Bojovic became a true lover of Slavs, which formed his further views. The mentioned documents were analyzed in this study for the first time, and they will hopefully enrich the biography of Jefrem Bojovic. This study should help us to understand better the occasions within the church, society and politics in Serbia during the ninth decade of the 19th century.

Research conducted in the Archive and Library of Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden, the U.S. National Archives, and the U.S. National Herbarium allowed us to reconstruct field work performed by David Fairchild (1869–1954) in the islands of Beata, Saona, Tobago, Tortola, and Trinidad in 1932. This was part of a larger expedition to the Caribbean Islands, Suriname and Guyana by the United States Department of Agriculture between December 1931 and April 1932. During the collection endeavor to these five islands, 261 photographs were taken, 82 herbarium collections (75 species) were made, and 185 germplasm accessions (148 species) were added to the USDA germplasm repositories. In total, plant material for 185 species (224 collections) was collected. A major highlight of the trip were the herbarium collections that led to the description of the Beata endemic genus Armouria (Malvaceae). However, more recent taxonomic studies place this genus within the tropical genus Thespesia (~13 species). Thirteen distinguished naturalists or high ranking government officers were met in Trinidad (12) and Tortola (1). Collections of cotton (6 accessions) and palms (25 accessions) were relevant to the expedition objectives; however no samples of Sea-Island Cotton were obtained, despite this being a major germplasm objective. Exploring the Botanic Garden of Trinidad was another main highlight of the trip. Documents, photos, and research results are made available online at: www.archive.org. The project is framed within an undergraduate research program on botanical history that is being performed in partnership with botanists from national and foreign institutions. Part of the collected material was introduced into the Jardín Botánico de Cienfuegos, Cuba shortly after the expedition ended.

As a result of the capture of the American embassy by supporters of the supreme leader of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Ayatollah R. Khomeini, the U.S. lost the chances for a quick restoration of its positions in the Middle East. The events unfolding in Tehran demanded a serious and balanced response from the adminis-tration of John Carter. Under these conditions, the American government and its analytical structures began to look for tools to influence and put pressure on the Islamic regime. One of the potential levers of American policy could be the Kurdish issue, which was again openly put on the agenda after the Islamic revolution of 1978–1979. The potential of the Iranian Kurds in terms of countering the Khomeini regime, their controlla-bility and the conformity of their struggle with U.S. interests have become the subject of analytical work of the state services. The article examines the place and role of the Kurdish question in the search for U.S. res-ponses to the challenges of the Iranian crisis caused by the capture of the U.S. embassy in November 1979. Based on a wide range of documents from the U.S. National Archives, the John Carter Presidential Library, the State Department, the Central Intelligence Agency and the Council of National U.S. security, the author traces the course of developing a policy towards Iran and a position regarding the national movement of Ira-nian Kurds. The context of regional policy and the influence of the Afghan issue on the Iranian course of Washington are also traced. As a result of the development of decisions, the line of Secretary of State S. Vance prevailed, demanding to refrain from active aggressive actions against Iran, to ignore the Kurdish movement. The entry of Soviet troops into Afghanistan also had an impact, turning the entire political situa-tion in the Middle East upside down.

A Review of: Magi, Trina J., “The Gap between Theory and Practice: A Study of the Prevalence and Strength of Patron Confidentiality Policies in Public and Academic Libraries.” Library & Information Science Research 29 (2007): 455-70. Objectives – To examine the prevalence and strength of patron confidentiality policies and practices at academic and public libraries in Vermont; to examine variances in policies by type and size of library and by qualifications of library directors; and to examine the level of support among Vermont library directors for strengthening state law to clarify that personally identifiable information about library patrons is confidential and should only be released with a court order. Design – Survey (non-randomized) of 213 library directors. Setting – Academic and public libraries in Vermont (USA). Subjects – The initial audience was defined to be the directors of the 213 academic and public libraries in Vermont (as the persons to whom the survey was directed). Ultimately, results from 149 returned surveys were used as a basis for analysis. In addition, a written report of the information gathered was provided to the governing bodies of the Vermont Department of Libraries and the Vermont Library Association. The author also anticipates that the results of the survey will be of general interest to academic and public librarians. Methods – A literature review of previous research on library policies and practices regarding patron confidentiality was completed. As well, the author examined the various state and federal laws and library association codes of ethics which address issues of the confidentiality of library patron data. A paper questionnaire was mailed on January 11, 2006, to directors of 188 municipal and incorporated public libraries (including 11 combined public and school libraries) and 25 college and university libraries, for a total of 213 libraries targeted. Cover letters explaining the purpose of the study and assuring respondents of the confidentiality of their responses were included in the mailing. The contact information came from a list supplied by the Vermont Department of Libraries. The questionnaire had previously been tested by five librarians from the aforementioned list, and slight changes had been made to clarify questions and instructions. Survey respondents were given an initial deadline of February 1, 2006, but responses were received and included through March 13, 2006. Various tactics were used to boost response rates, including electronic discussion list announcements, usage of pre-addressed stamped return envelopes, usage of personalized address information and a personal signature by the researcher on the cover letter, reminder postcards, and a coupon for free ice cream. One hundred and fifty-one questionnaires were returned. Two questionnaires were returned incomplete, and were removed from both the target population and the responses, leaving a total of 149 out of 211 possible responses and a response rate of 71%. For this response rate, all calculations were determined to have a margin of error of +/-4.4% with 95% confidence. The survey was constructed to address five research questions, as detailed below: 1) How many requests for personally identifiable patron information have libraries received in the past year, and from whom did those inquiries come? 2) How many libraries have a written confidentiality policy, and what are the characteristics of libraries and library directors that have policies? 3) How current are those policies? 4) How many policies prohibit release of patron information without a court order or other binding legal document (e.g., subpoena or search warrant)? How many policies call for attorney review of any such court orders or other binding legal documents? 5) Do librarians support the idea of strengthening the state law relating to confidentiality of library records? The questions were closed-ended in order to allow responses to be coded and easily analyzed, although space was provided for respondents to offer additional comments. Though a deadline of February 1, 2006 was set, responses were received as late as March 13, 2006. Person’s chi-square and Fisher’s exact test were used to measure statistical significance of differences among various respondent groups. Main Results – The survey respondents estimated that they received a minimum of 1,228 requests for patron information within the past year, and 46% of libraries had received at least one such request. Academic libraries, which made up 13% of the sample, received 11% of requests. These queries included requests for personally identifiable information about patron reading interests, use of library materials and use of services. It was not possible to accurately quantify requests received because many respondents indicated that their library had received numerous requests, and did not supply specific numbers; in such cases, there was generally no indication that the library kept track of such requests. (and perhaps did not themselves track such requests). Of interest was the finding that because of gag order provisions in laws such as the PATRIOT Act, which prohibit librarians from reporting that such requests for information have even been made, it is likely that requests made by law enforcement agencies are under-reported. However, according to the responses to the survey, 90% of total inquiries came not from law enforcement officials, but from parents, guardians, spouses, or partners of library patrons or from teachers or professors of library patrons. In academic libraries, 60% of requests were received from teachers or professors of patrons. Only 1% of total requests were reported as coming from law enforcement officials. Additional groups making requests included college or university administrators (1% of total inquiries, exclusively in academic libraries); persons representing other government agencies but not law enforcement (0.3% of total inquiries, exclusively in public libraries); persons representing companies or non-governmental organizations (0.08%, one inquiry only, in a public library); and ‘others’ (6% of total inquiries, all but one of which were at public libraries). ‘Others’ included the president of a friends group, caregivers of elderly or disabled or homebound patrons, friends or acquaintances of patrons, book group participants, and people picking up reserved materials. Despite heightened awareness of confidentiality issues (due to the PATRIOT Act and related heavily publicized legal actions), only 48% of survey respondents indicated that their library had written policies or procedures detailing how requests for personally identifiable information should be addressed. Fifty-six per cent of academic libraries had such policies, as compared to 47% of public libraries. Thirty-five per cent of libraries without such policies indicated that they were working on developing these policies or planned to create them within a year. As well, 64% of libraries whose directors hold MLS degrees or the Vermont Department of Libraries’ Certificate of Public Librarianship had confidentiality policies, as compared to 38% of libraries where the director held neither qualification. Data were also analyzed according to the number of years of experience that the library director had, but results obtained from this comparative analysis were not statistically significant. Thirty-six per cent of libraries with two or fewer paid personnel had written confidentiality policies, as compared to 41% of libraries with 3-5 paid personnel, 59% of libraries with 6-10 paid personnel, and 95% of libraries with 11 or more paid personnel. The policies tend to be up-to-date: of libraries with confidentiality policies, 46% had reviewed or updated their policy within the past year, and 86% had done so within the past three years. Of libraries with confidentiality policies, 86% require a court order or other binding legal document, such as a subpoena or search warrant, before they will release patron information. There were no statistically significant differences in this matter when data were analyzed according to library type, number of paid personnel, or years of experience of the library director or the number of paid library personnel, but there were differences when data were analyzed according to whether the library director held an MLS degree or Vermont Department of Libraries’ Certificate of Public Librarianship, or neither qualification. In libraries where the director held one of the abovementioned qualifications, 93% required presentation of a binding legal document before permitting release of patron information; in libraries where the director held neither qualification, this fell to 58%. Fifty-two per cent of libraries with confidentiality policies required that an attorney review the binding legal documents requesting patron information before such information could be released. Libraries which were more likely to include such a provision in their policies included libraries in which the director held either an MLS degree or the Vermont Department of Libraries’ Certificate of Public Librarianship (62%, versus only 8% of libraries where the director holds neither qualification), and libraries with larger numbers of paid personnel (20% of libraries with 2 or fewer personnel had provisions requiring attorney review of binding legal documents, versus 79% of libraries with 3-5 paid personnel, 50% of libraries with 6-10 paid personnel, and 61% of libraries with 11 or more paid personnel). Finally, 74% of respondents supported strengthening Vermont law to enhance safeguards to confidentiality of library records. Twenty-five per cent stated that they would need more information before making a decision, and 1% stated that they would not support such changes. There was a statistically significant difference by library type: 83% of academic library directors supported strengthening the law as described above, as compared to 73% of public library directors. The article also suggested that education and support should be directed at those libraries which have no confidentiality policy. Conclusion – In 2005, nearly half of Vermont academic and public library directors received at least one request for personally identifiable information about patrons’ use of library resources or services, and in total, at least 1,228 such requests were received. It is difficult to be sure about either the number or prevalence of such requests, as some laws, such as the PATRIOT Act, prohibit libraries from revealing that such inquiries have been made. However, only 1% of reported requests for such information were made by law enforcement agencies; it is far more common for requests to come from parents, guardians, spouses, partners, teachers, or professors of library patrons. Despite the number and prevalence of requests received, and despite heightened awareness of patron confidentiality issues due to recent publicity on the topic of legal action taken by libraries as a result of requests for information made under the PATRIOT Act, fewer than half of the libraries studied have written policies or procedures addressing how such requests should be handled. Of libraries that do have such policies, a large majority (86%) require presentation of a binding legal document before they will release patron information, and over half (52%) require attorney review of the binding legal document before they will comply with the request. A large majority (74%) of Vermont library directors also support strengthening state law to protect confidentiality of library records.

The research reveals the contacts between the authorized representatives of the Lithuanian Society, the members of the Lithuanian National Council (in Lausanne), the members and the head of the Lithuanian Information Bureau (in Lausanne), the members of the committee Lituania and the heads and servants of Spanish legations abroad, Prince Alfonso of the Bourbon dynasty of Spain and the representatives of the Spanish society in Barcelona. It also covers information about Spain, Spanish legations abroad, their functions in forwarding letters and transferring money to the territory under German occupation inhabited by Lithuanians (Ober Ost), the division of the committee Lituania in Barcelona, and the articles of the Lithuanian Society in the periodicals published by the Lithuanian Information Bureau in Lithuanian and foreign languages and the Lithuanian party press. The research covers the chronological period from 25 August 1915 to 11 November 1918, i.e. from the establishment of the Refugee Registration and Information Bureau (in Petrograd) to the formation of the Provisional Government of Lithuania. The research is based on published (press, published documents) und unpublished sources (from the Political Archive of the German Foreign Office, the Manuscripts Department of the Wroblewski Library of the Lithuanian Academy of Sciences, the documents of the Manuscripts Department of Vilnius University Library). The research employed the methods of qualitative analysis and synthesis (the new material of the sources was supplemented with the information circulating in historiography), the comparative method (the facts found in Lithuanian manuscript collections, German archives and the press are compared), the descriptive method and the inductive method. To process the primary sources in Lithuanian, German and Russian languages, the logical-analytical method was applied (the notional content and information analysis was conducted). The research consists of three parts. In the first part of the research, the author investigates the role played by Spanish legations abroad in sending letters and money to the Lithuanian territory under German occupation and back (1916–1918) and states that the analysis of the press and published memoirs of the period in question leads to the conclusion that Spanish legations abroad played a crucial role in sending inquiries about family and friends as well as money into the Lithuanian territory under German occupation (Ober Ost) and back (1916–1917). It was the safest way to send and receive information and money. An alternative to the Spanish legation in sending money to the largest cities of Lithuania occupied by Germany, namely Vilnius and Kaunas, originated at the end of 1917 and in 1918 when Stockholms Enskilda Banken opened its branches in Vilnius, Kaunas, Suwalki, and Białystok. In the second part of the study, the author reveals the attempt of Juozas Gabrys to elect Spanish Prince Alfonso as King of Lithuania and concludes that after investigating the minutes of the sessions of the Lithuanian National Council (in Lausanne) of 1918 and the documents of 1918 kept in the Political Archive of the German Foreign Office, it turned out that the head of the Lithuanian Information Bureau, Juozas Gabrys, and the members of the Lithuanian National Council (in Lausanne) maintained a close contact with Spanish Prince Alfonso residing in Switzerland (Zürich) and shared Lithuanian realities with him. It should be noted that even after Wilhelm of Urach was elected as King of Lithuania Mindaugas II, Gabrys did not lose hope to change the situation to the benefit of Spanish Prince Alfonso by also involving the representatives of the German Foreign Ministry and other persons interested in this matter or inspired by him. The third part of the study reveals the circumstances of establishing the Spanish division of the Committee Lituania and its activity fields. After systemising the episodes of the information, which appeared in Lithuanian periodicals, it became clear that the establishment of the division of the committee Lituania in Spain in 1917 was driven by several factors: first, the Lithuanian Day declared by the pope (7 May 1917) in the Catholic churches of the world on which collections were organized in favour of the Lithuanian war victims and, second, the attempt to inform the Spanish society about Lithuanians and Lithuania if Spanish Prince Alfonso should by any chance be elected as King of Lithuania. Public relations were the major focus of the Barcelona division of the committee Lituania: to spread as favourable information about Lithuanians and Lithuania as possible.

Objective – This study sought to determine the characteristics of research materials used by history students in preparing their master’s theses. Of which information resources formats did such students make use, and in what proportions? What was the age distribution of resources used? What was the dispersal over journal titles and over subject classification, i.e., the degree of interdisciplinarity? To what extent did the master’s students make use of non-English-language materials? To what extent did their institution’s library hold the resources in question? The investigator was especially interested in finding quantitative support for what he terms two “hypotheses.” The first of these is that historical research depends to a high degree on monographs, journal articles being far less important to it than they are to research in, especially, the natural sciences and technology. The second is that the age distribution of resources important to historical research is much flatter and longer than that of resources upon which researchers in the natural sciences and technology rely. Design – Citation analysis, supplemented with comprehensive catalogue searches. Setting – Southern Connecticut State University (SCSU), a mid-sized public university located in New Haven, Connecticut, U.S.A. Subjects – MA and MS theses (N=47) successfully submitted to the Department of History over the period from academic year 1998/1999 through academic year 2007/2008, inclusive. Methods – The investigator initially identified the theses through a search of the online catalogue (“Consuls”) of the Connecticut State University system, and retrieved all of them in either electronic or hard-copy form. He then subjected all citations (N=3,498) listed in the references sections of these theses to an examination in order to identify for each cited resource the format, the age, the language, and, in the case of scholarly journal articles, the journal of publication. He carried out bibliographic searches in order to rectify any citations which he had noted to be faulty or incomplete. The study took no account of possible additional citations in footnotes or endnotes or in the text, and did not measure citation intensity (whether, for instance, a thesis referred only once, or perhaps many times, to a given resource). Duplicates “were ignored.” He furthermore performed systematic searches in Consuls and in the Library of Congress (LC) online catalogue in order to establish, insofar as possible, into which assigned LC Classification class each resource fell, and whether it belonged to the holdings of the SCSU library. “Holdings,” as used here, includes physical resources owned, as well as those resources to which the library has licensed access. Not marked as either “held” or “not held” were: resources available online without restriction or charge, items not identified in either Consuls or the LC catalogue, and all government documents. Ages of cited resources were calculated based on the edition or version date actually given in a student’s citation, without any consideration of a possible earlier date of the original version of the publication or document concerned. Main Results – Format, age distribution, and journal frequency. The local citation analysis found that 53.2% of all cited resources were monographs, 7.8% were scholarly articles, 5.3% were contributed chapters in books, and 0.6% were dissertations or theses. Non-scholarly periodicals accounted for 15.7%, government documents for 6.7%, and freely available web documents for 4.1%. The remainder, approximately 6.5%, comprised archival papers, judicial documents, directories, interviews, posters, audiovisual materials, and 13 other formats. Cited resources, measured back from the date of acceptance of the citing thesis, ranged from 0 to 479 years old; the mode was 3 years, but the median was “25” (p. 170) or “26” (p. 177) years. Just over 70% (i.e., 2,500 cited resources) were more than ten years old. Almost one thousand of the cited resources were fifty or more years old. The 274 scholarly journal articles included in the references sections were spread over 153 distinct journal titles, of which 105 titles made only one appearance, and 136 titles three or fewer appearances. The mean was 1.8 appearances. Subject dispersal and language. Of the 2,084 cited resources for which LC classification was locatable, 51.5% had a classification other than history, i.e., other than class C, D, E, or F. Nearly two thirds (66.0%) of the cited scholarly journal articles had appeared in journals with a focus other than history. (Note: table 4 is incorrect, precisely reversing the actual ratio.) Of all cited items, 98.5% were in the English language. Half (27) of the non-English-language resources cited were in Korean, all cited in the same thesis. Books (i.e., monographs plus compilations from which contributed chapters were cited) accounted for 87.0% of foreign-language citations. More than four fifths of the examined theses (83.0%) cited not a single non-English-language resource. Local holdings. Of all 3,498 cited items, 3,022 could be coded as either “held” or “not held” by the SCSU library. Of the items so coded (not, as indicated on p. 180, of all cited items), scarcely two fifths (41.0%) belonged to the library’s holdings. The holdings percentage was highest (72.6%) for the 274 scholarly journal articles cited, followed by the 186 contributed chapters (50.0%), the 550 non-scholarly periodical items (49.5%), and the 1,861 monographs (46.8%). For other cited formats, the percentage was much lower, and in some cases, e.g., for the 55 archival and the 44 judicial documents, it was 0.0%. Of the 54 foreign-language resources cited, the institution’s library held only two. Conclusion – The investigator concludes that his study’s findings do indeed lend quantitative support to his two “hypotheses.” This outcome will surprise few, if any, librarians; it is in accord with what Koenig (1978) long ago saw as a matter of “intuition” and “all conventional wisdom,” something that many subsequent studies have confirmed. Sherriff accordingly recommends, firstly, that collections which strive to support historical research should, in matters of acquisition policy and budget allocation, take serious account of that field’s relatively strong dependence on monographs. Secondly, the data on age distribution carry obvious implications for librarians’ decision-making on matters such as de-accessioning and weeding, relegation to remote storage, and retrospective acquisitions. This finding should also be considered, for instance, in connection with preservation policy and the maintaining of special collections. He even suggests that librarians “need to teach students the value of reviewing literature historically and showing them how to do so effectively” (p. 177). Sherriff considers a number of further (tentative) conclusions to be warranted or suggested by the results of this study. First of all, that historical research is now characteristically an interdisciplinary matter, in the sense that it requires extensive access to information resources, including journals, which libraries have traditionally not classified as belonging to the discipline of history itself. For a library supporting such research, this phenomenon “has implications for matters including collection budgets, reference work, bibliographic instruction, and the location of collections and departmental libraries” (p. 168). It also means “that librarians working with history students and history collections need to be aware of the relevant resources in other disciplines. This can improve reference work, research assistance, and bibliographic instruction; it may also help the coordination of acquisitions across departmental lines” (p. 179). Secondly, one may conclude that “there is no ‘core’ collection of journals for history” (p. 178) which will be able to satisfy a large proportion of master’s students’ research needs. Thirdly, the fact that a library such as SCSU’s holds significantly less than half of what master’s students require for preparing their theses “may exercise a narrowing effect on students’ awareness of the existing literature on their topics” (p. 180), “increases the importance of departmental faculty, reference librarians, and subject specialist librarians drawing students’ attention to resources beyond the library’s catalogues and collections” (p. 180), and requires that the library give serious attention to effective document delivery arrangements. Finally, this study’s finding that only a small percentage of master’s students in history made use of non-English-language materials, but then in certain cases used them rather extensively (27 Korean items cited in one thesis, ten Italian in another, nine Spanish in yet another), suggests that acquisition, or at least proactive acquisition, of such materials needn’t be a priority, as long as, once again, the students concerned have easy access to efficient and affordable document delivery services. Sherriff does concede, however, that his finding could indicate “that students are unaware of relevant resources in other languages or are aware of them but lack the language skills necessary to use them” (p. 179).

This study aims to analyze and explain the foreign policy of the United States towards the Afghan militia, especially the Taliban. The United States government with the help of the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) investigates and seeks to destroy the Al Qaeda terrorist group led by Osama bin Laden who was later found to be in Afghanistan and obtained protection under the Taliban. The Taliban, the Islamic extremist regime that controls Afghanistan and offers space for Al Qaeda militants to exercise its military in Afghanistan. President Bush signed a resolution on September 18, 2001 regarding the attacks on Al Qaeda under the protection of the Taliban in Afghanistan which continues to this day. The United States is actively involved in supporting military operations in Afghanistan, including logistical assistance, Afghan military training, and sending American military troops to conflict areas. The main goal of the United States in doing so is to prevent potential future attacks by a growing terrorist group in Afghanistan. Based on data from the United States Department of Defense, the total expenditure in the military sector in Afghanistan from 2001 to 2019 was 778 billion USD. Meanwhile, the number of troops sent to conflict locations was 596,303 troops. There are 2,441 US military troops confirmed dead in the Afghan war from 2001 to 2019. It is estimated that about 12,000 US military troops are still in Afghanistan. This research is a qualitative research and the data collection technique used by the author in this study is Library Research in the form of books, journals, documents, reports, articles, or newspapers obtained through electronic and non-electronic media. The conclusion is that this foreign policy is relevant and elaborates that in international relations there will be actions, reactions, and interactions between political entities called states. The state, in this case the head of state as the decision maker, tries to formulate every goal to be achieved by minimizing sacrifices to the national interest. In line with the policies pursued by President Trump to end the war in Afghanistan and withdraw all military forces of the United States and its allies.

This study aims to guide the Shariah judiciary, especially the Prosecution Department and the judges, in determining Islamic medical experts as an expert opinion to be adopted in the trial for cases of magic crimes in Shariah courts. These Guidelines will also be the basis of reference and guidance to the state Islamic religious department (JAIN) and government agencies such as the Malaysian Islamic Development Department (JAKIM) related to certified Islamic medical experts. This study will discuss the conditions Ruqyah Syar'iyyah in Islamic medicine, the pillars Ruqyah Syar'iyyah in Islamic medicine, ethics of Islamic medicine practitioners, the conditions of Islamic medical practitioners in brief. In addition, this study also highlights the principles of Islamic treatment and etiquette of Islamic treatment practices. The methodology used in this study is a library study that is a list of documents such as books and articles. It is hoped that these guidelines can also provide understanding and explanation to Muslims in this country on thae conditions and ethics of Islamic medicine. In addition, it aims to identify true practitioners of Islamic medicine and coincide with the standards of Islamic requirements in the hope that the Muslim community will seek and receives treatment services from real practitioners of Islamic medicine. This step must be played collectively by all authoritative parties to introduce the true practice of Islamic medicine and comply with the principles of faith and Islamic law.

Jadranka Stojanovski discusses the evolution of library support for open science from a Croatian perspective. From her vantage point as (former) library director of the Ruđer Bošković Institute and associate professor at the department of information science of the University of Zadar, Stojanovski has been a pioneer in establishing services exploiting the possibilities offered by new information technologies since the 1990s. Many of her activities have been connected to broad European collaborative projects such as OpenAIRE, OASPA, and EOSC. The Croatian approach has been a very proactive one. Already in 1997, the CROSBI was launched, a combined national scientific bibliography and repository for Green Open Access documents. Although deposition of articles and other research documents is entirely voluntary, CROSBI now carries metadata on more than 725,000 documents, a large proportion of which are available in fulltext. Alongisde CROSBI, there are also several institutions running their own institutional repositories. There is now extensive collaboration between these services in the form of DABAR (‘beaver’ in English), aiming to enhance the interoperability and findability of documents stored in the various repositories. Stojanovski has also been involved in setting up an inventory on Who’s Who in Science in Croatia as well as a database on scientific equipment, Šestar (‘pair of compasses’). Set up in 2005, the HRČAK (‘hamster’) platform for Croatian scientific and professional journals has been a massive success. Less than twenty years after its inception, it now carries more than 500 scholarly journals and series of conference proceedings, nearly all of which are Diamond Open Access (i.e., free to the reader and with no author-facing publishing charges). Roughly 150 of these journals receive annual subsidies from the government, the rest are fully based on voluntary work from individual editors and the institutions or learned societies they represent. Only around 25 HRČAK journals charge Article Processing Charges. The Social Sciences and Humanities are particularly well represented on the platform, with many journals publishing in Croatian despite the lack of an official language policy in favor of Croatian as a scholarly language. The University Computing Centre in Zagreb (SRCE, ‘heart’) is responsible for the technical development of HRČAK, which is based on seamless interconnection between in-house developed software and open-source software for editorial processes, primarily Open Journal Systems. A national Research Data Policy or, better still, a general Open Science Policy is highly desirable, Stojanovski argues. Infrastructure is in place, but usage will undoubtedly rise significantly as soon as open science practices become mandatory. Alongside Dominic Tate (episode 43) and Pierre Mounier (episode 44), Jadranka was a keynote speaker at the 17th Munin Conference on Scholarly Publishing. This interview was first published online on December 13, 2022.

Currently, e-government is one of the important tools to improve the efficiency of state management and the quality of public services. E-government applications contribute to meeting the requirements of modern governance, such as publicity, transparency, accountability, timeliness of public administration and citizen participation. Therefore, e-government is being developed and applied by various countries in the world including Vietnam. Keywords: E-government, Digital Government, Open Government, Governance, State Governance. References: [1] ADB (2005), Governance: Sound Development Management Governance, tại https://www.adb.org/sites/default/files/institutional-document/32027/govpolicy.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[2] Sabri Boubaker, Duc Khuong Nguyen (editors), Corporate Governance and Corporate Social Responsibility: Emerging Markets Focus, World Scientific Publishing Co Pte Ltd, 2014, tr. 377. Dẫn theo Nguyễn Văn Quân, Nguồn gốc và sự phát triển của quản trị tốt, trong cuốn “Quản trị tốt: Lý luận và thực tiễn”, Vũ Công Giao, Nguyễn Hoàng Anh, Đặng Minh Tuấn, Nguyễn Minh Tuấn (đồng chủ biên), NXB Chính trị Quốc gia, 2017.[3] Michiel Backus., “e-Governance and Developing Countries: Introduction and examples”, Research Report ; No. 3, April, 2001, Xem: https://bibalex.org/baifa/Attachment/Documents/119334.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[4] S. Bhatnagar, “e-government: from vision to implementation: a practical guide with case studies” New Delhi ; Thousand Oaks, Calif. : Sage Publications, 2004.[5] Vũ Công Giao, Nguyễn Hoàng Anh, Đặng Minh Tuấn, Nguyễn Minh Tuấn (đồng chủ biên) “Quản trị tốt: Lý luận và thực tiễn”, NXB Chính trị Quốc gia, 2017.[6] World Bank (2006), Making PRSP Inclusive, tại http://siteresources.worldbank.org/DISABILITY/Resources/280658-1172608138489/MakingPRSPInclusive.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[7] Global Agenda Council on the Future of Government - World Economic Forum (2011), The Future of Government Lessons Learned From Around The World, Xem: http://www3.weforum.org/docs/EU11/WEF_EU11_FutureofGovernment_Report.pdf –[8] Hanna, Nagy., Transforming Government and Building the Information Society: Challenges and Opportunities for the Developing World, Nagy Hanna & Peter T. Knight editors, Springer, NY, 2010.[9] Heeks, R., “iGovernment : Understanding e-Governance for Development”, Working Paper Series : Paper No. 11, Institute for Development Policy and Management, Xem: http://unpan1.un.org/intradoc/groups/public/documents/NISPAcee/UNPAN015484.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[10] Richard Heeks, “Most e-Government-for-Development Projects Fail How Can Risks be Reduced, 2003, Xem: http://unpan1.un.org/intradoc/groups/public/documents/cafrad/unpan011226.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[11] J. Guida, and M. Crow “e-government and e-governance”, in Unwin, T. (ed.), ICT4D: International and Communication Technology for Development, Cambridge University Press 2009. Xem: https://www.itu.int/ITU-D/cyb/app/docs/e-gov_for_dev_countries-report.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[12] Bob Jessop, The State Past, Present, Future, Polity, 2016, tr.166-169, tại http://www.ritsumei.ac.jp/acd/re/k- rsc/hss/book/pdf/vol07_08.pdf[13] S. Joseph. Jr. Nye and D. John (2000), Governance in a globalizing world, Brookings Institution Press.[14] Joseph Stiglitz, “Globalization And The Economic Role Of The State In The New Millennium”, Journal Of Industrial and Corporate Change, 2003.[15] Báo Lao động, Xây dựng chính phủ điện tử, rào cản nào?, xem: https://laodong.vn/thoi-su/xay-dung-chinh-phu-dien-tu-rao-can-nao-631923.ldo, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[16] Phạm Tiến Luật, Những thách thức trong xây dựng chính phủ điện tử ở Việt Nam, Tạp chí Quản lý nhà nước, số 264 (1/2018).[17] D. Nute, “Net eases Government Purchasing Process”, The American City & County Journal, 117 (1), 2002; K.A. O’Connell, “Computerizing Government: The Next Generation”, The American City & County Journal, 118 (8), 2003.[18] OECD (2004), Principles of Corporate Governance, tại: http://www.oecd.org/corporate/ca/corporategovernanceprinciples/31557724.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[19] United Nation (2002), World Public sector report Globalization and the State, tại: https://publicadministration.un.org/publications/content/PDFs/E-Library%20Archives/World%20Public%20Sector%20Report%20series/World%20Public%20Sector%20Report.2001.pdf , truy cập ngày 11/11/2018.[20] United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific, What is Good Governance?, tại: https://www.unescap.org/sites/default/files/good-governance.pdf ., truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.[21] UNDP (1997), Governance & Sustainable Human Development. A UNDP Policy Document. New York United Nations Development Programme, 1997.[22] Jim Macnamara, The Quadrivium of Online Public Consultation: Policy, Culture, Resources, Technology, Dẫn theo Nguyễn Đức Lam, Quản trị tốt: những chuẩn mực chung, tài liệu đã dẫn. Vũ Công Giao, Nguyễn Hoàng Anh, Đặng Minh Tuấn, Nguyễn Minh Tuấn (đồng chủ biên) “Quản trị tốt: Lý luận và thực tiễn”, NXB Chính trị Quốc gia, 2017.[23] United Nations : Department of economic and Social Affairs, Division for Public Administration and Development Management, “The Global e-Government Survey 2008”, xem: https://publicadministration.un.org/egovkb/portals/egovkb/Documents/un/2008-Survey/unpan028607.pdf, truy cập ngày 18/12/2018.

Purpose Maintaining infrastructures such as roads, bridges, railways and other civil constructions requires long term documentation that ideally should comprise a reliable reflection of the physical structures. However, the Swedish Transport Administration (TRA) states that its documentation is currently inadequate and that new working method are needed. The purpose of this paper is to study how the agency is working to improve their recordkeeping, by taking a closer look at two new positions that now coordinate the delivery of documentation from the building process teams to the agency. What is their role and what challenges do they face with regard to creating, sharing and preserving records with other areas across the TRA? The study’s purpose is also to discuss the concept of the archive in the current environment and how existing archival theory can be applied to long term documentation. Design/methodology/approach The study used a case study method, as the aim was to explore and understand recordkeeping practices and theoretical implications, without seeking to generalize the findings outside the Swedish Government. Two positions – the delivering coordinator and the receiving coordinator – were chosen as relevant focuses, due to their function as links between departments in which it was previously indicated that creating and maintaining reliable recordkeeping was difficult and where organizational structure might challenge the traditional archival theory. Documents and reports from the agency were used as research material through documentary analysis and a questionnaire consisting of 10 questions was used to conduct semi-structured interviews with 10 coordinators at the agency. Findings Obtaining the correct documentation at the right time and of appropriate quality from contractors and entrepreneurs was difficult, despite detailed contractual rules and regulations identifying what should be delivered. The work of the coordinators was formally connected to the important tasks of creating, sharing and preserving records with other areas within the TRA, but in reality, the coordinators faced several difficulties due to expectations of their professional role, practices in information management between different departments and archives creation at the entire agency. The interviewees therefore had differing perceptions of what was meant by TRA’s “archive”: it was variously perceived as only including the registry; comprising only the records preserved by the archives department or encompassing only those records in the registry or in the agency’s business system/s. Findings indicate that the concepts of multiple provenances and the recordkeeping “single mind” might provide insights to better inform the recordkeeping principles needed to improve the current environment. Research limitations/implications The study was limited to the 10 interviewees in 2 roles, although there are more positions involved in handling records. Future studies may solidify or contest the different themes identified in the present paper, through interviews of those additional roles at the agency. This paper uses the Swedish concept of the archive as a point of departure in its analysis. Originality/value By increasing the knowledge about positions that are responsible for handling records at an agency, this paper can get a better understanding of how they affect the ultimate creation of archives. This will give Swedish public agencies and other organizations, better results when they are creating strategies to preserve reliable records for the future.

The idea to investigate the communication of the Council of Lithuania first came up after analysing the process of the representation of the Council of Lithuania from 21 September 1917 to 11 November 1918 and realising that internal and external communication was closely intertwined and each was important in its own way. The analysis of the communication of the Council of Lithuania is important for several reasons. Firstly, it helps to identify internal and external communication channels and to understand their role in establishing and maintaining close contacts with the local and foreign public; secondly, it provides an opportunity to see the actual scope of activities pursued by the Council of Lithuania and its Presidium, and, thirdly, it sheds light on the specificities of the functioning of the little-studied administrative apparatus of the Council of Lithuania. The aim of the study is to examine internal and external communication channels of the Council of Lithuania and to reveal the specificities of their functioning (21 September 1917–11 November 1918). To that end, the research made use of published (collections of documents, information in the press) and unpublished sources stored at the Lithuanian Central State Archives, the Manuscripts Department of the Wroblewski Library of the Lithuanian Academy of Sciences, the Political Archive of the German Foreign Office, and studies by historians and legal historians. The research covers the chronological period from 21 September 1917 to 11 November 1918, i.e., from the election of the Council of Lithuania during the Vilnius Conference (18– 23 September 1917) to the formation of the Provisional Government of Lithuania. Methods of qualitative analysis and synthesis (the new material of the sources was supplemented with the information circulating in historiography), the comparative method (the facts from Lithuanian and German archives and the press are compared), the descriptive and inductive methods were employed. To process the primary sources in Lithuanian and German languages, the logical-analytical method (analysis of the notional content and information) was applied. The research revealed that external and internal communication of the Council of Lithuania was the responsibility of the Presidium of the Council of Lithuania. Its members organised and coordinated internal communication through the head of the Central Office. The members of the Council of Lithuania used to communicate among themselves and with the members of the Presidium and exchanged information at official plenary sessions, verbally and in writing, by phone and telegraph. In exceptional cases, authorised persons and delegations served as intermediaries. Most problems in internal communication used to arise from the failure to provide information in writing (copies of documents not prepared, forwarded, or delivered in time) and belated invitations to the plenary sittings during the sessions of the Council of Lithuania. The members of the Presidium and the heads of the commissions and administrative divisions of the Council of Lithuania used to communicate and exchange information verbally (at sittings and meetings) and in writing (through letters, documentation). All direct and indirect channels available at that time were utilised for the Council’s external communication with local and foreign public, Lithuanians abroad, and German civil and military administration: (1) direct channels include visits to the Secretariat of the Council of Lithuania during the publicly- announced reception hours established by the members of the Presidium and the members of the commissions of the Council of Lithuania, meetings of the members of the Council of Lithuania with Lithuanian residents, their organisations, and the representatives of the German Military Administration in Lithuania (Militärverwaltung Litauen), conferences abroad, reception of the delegates (authorised representatives) of Lithuanians living abroad or delegations; (2) indirect channels comprise newspapers (they used to print reception hours, minutes of sittings, and other important information), letters and telegrams, and special information publications (Bėgamosios Lietuvos Tarybos žinios).

IntroductionIn regional Australia and New Zealand, museums and art galleries are increasingly becoming primary sites of cultural engagement. They are one of the key tourist attractions for regional towns and expected to generate much needed tourism revenue. In 2017 in New South Wales alone, there were three million visitors to regional galleries and museums (MGNSW 13). However, apart from those (partially) funded by local councils, they are often run on donations, good will, and the enthusiasm of volunteers. Regional museums and galleries provide some paid, and more unpaid, employment for ageing populations. While two-thirds of Australia’s population lives in capital cities, the remainder who live in regional towns are likely to be in the 60+ age cohort because people are choosing to retire away from the bustling, growing cities (ABS). At last count, there were about 3000 museums and galleries in Australia with about 80% of them located in regional areas (Scott). Over the last 40 years, this figure has tripled from the 1000 regional and provincial museums estimated by Peter Piggott in his 1975 report (24). According to a 2014 survey (Shaw and Davidson), New Zealand has about 470 museums and galleries and about 70% are located outside capital cities. The vast majority, 85%, have less than five, full-time paid staff, and more than half of these were run entirely by ageing volunteers. They are entrusted with managing the vast majority of the history and heritage collections of Australia and New Zealand. These ageing volunteers need a diverse range of skills and experience to care for and interpret collections. How do you find the time and budget for professional development for both paid staff and volunteers? Many professional development events are held in capital cities, which are often a significant distance from the regional museum—this adds substantially to the costs of attending and the time commitment required to get there. In addition, it is not uncommon for people working in regional museums to be responsible for everything—from security, collection management, conservation, research, interpretation and public programs to changing the light bulbs. While there are a large number of resources available online, following a manual is often more difficult than learning from other colleagues or learning in a more formal educational or vocational environment where you can receive timely feedback on your work. Further, a foundational level of prior knowledge and experience is often required to follow written instructions. This article will suggest some strategies for low cost professional development and networking. It involves planning, thinking strategically and forming partnerships with others in the region. It is time to harness the power of modern communications technology and use it as a tool for professional development. Some models of professional development in regional areas that have been implemented in the past will also be reviewed. The focus for this article is on training and professional development for workers in regional museums, heritage sites and keeping places. Regional art galleries have not been included because they tend to have separate regional networks and training opportunities. For example, there are professional development opportunities provided through the Art Galleries Association of Australia and their state branches. Regional galleries are also far more likely to have one or more paid staff members (Winkworth, “Fixing the Slums” 2). Regional Museums, Volunteers, and Social CapitalIt is widely accepted that regional museums and galleries enhance social capital and reduce social isolation (Kelly 32; Burton and Griffin 328). However, while working in a regional museum or gallery can help to build friendship networks, it can also be professionally isolating. How do you benchmark what you do against other places if you are two or more hours drive from those places? How do you learn from other colleagues if all your colleagues are also isolated by the ‘tyranny of distance’ and struggling with the same lack of access to training? In 2017 in New South Wales alone, there were 8,629 active volunteers working in regional museums and galleries giving almost five million hours, which Museums and Galleries NSW calculated was worth over $150 million per annum in unpaid labour (MGNSW 1). Providing training and professional development to this group is an investment in Australia’s social and cultural capital.Unlike other community-run groups, the museums and heritage places which have emerged in regional Australia and New Zealand are not part of a national or state branch network. Volunteers who work for the Red Cross, Scouts or Landcare benefit from being part of a national organisation which provides funding, support workers, a website, governance structure, marketing, political advocacy and training (Winkworth, “Let a Thousand Flowers” 11). In Australia and New Zealand, this role is undertaken by the Australian Museums and Galleries Association AMaGA (formerly Museums Australia) and Museums Aotearoa respectively. However, both of these groups operate at the macro policy level, for example organising annual conferences, publishing a journal and developing Indigenous policy frameworks, rather than the local, practical level. In 1995, due to their advocacy work, Landcare Australia received $500 million over five years from the federal government to fund 5000 Landcare groups, which are run by 120,000 volunteers (Oppenheimer 177). They argued successfully that the sustainable development of land resources started at the local level. What do we need to do to convince government of the need for sustainable development of our local and regional museum and heritage resources?Training for Volunteers Working in Regional Museums: The Current SituationAnother barrier to training for regional museum workers is the assumption that the 70:20:10 model of professional development should apply. That is, 70% of one’s professional development is done ‘on the job’ by completing tasks and problem-solving; 20% is achieved by learning from mentors, coaches and role models and 10% is learnt from attending conferences and symposia and enrolling in formal courses of study. However, this model pre-supposes that there are people in your workplace whom you can learn from and who can show you how to complete a task, and that you are not destroying or damaging a precious, unique object if you happen to make a mistake.Some museum volunteers come with skills in research, marketing, administration, customer service or photography, but very few come with specific museum skills like writing exhibition text, registering an acquisition or conserving artefacts. These skills need to be taught. As Kylie Winkworth has written, museum management now requires a [...] skills set, which is not so readily found in small communities, and which in many ways is less rewarding for the available volunteers, who may have left school at 15. We do not expect volunteer librarians to catalogue books, which are in any case of low intrinsic value, but we still expect volunteers in their 70s and 80s to catalogue irreplaceable heritage collections and meet ever more onerous museum standards. That so many volunteers manage to do this is extraordinary. (“Let a Thousand Flowers” 13)Workers in regional museums are constantly required to step outside their comfort zones and learn new skills with minimal professional support. While these challenging experiences can be very rewarding, they are also potentially damaging for our irreplaceable material cultural heritage.Training for museum professionals has been on the agenda of the International Council of Museums (ICOM) since 1947 (Boylan 62). However, until 1996, their work focused on recommending curricula for new museum professionals and did not include life-long learning and on-going professional development. ICOM’s International Committee for the Training of Personnel (ICTOP) and the ICOM Executive has responded to this in their new curricula—ICOM Curricula Guidelines for Professional Museum Development, but this does not address the difficulties staff or volunteers working in regional areas face in accessing training.In some parts of Australia, there are regional support and professional development programs in place. For example, in Queensland, there is the Museum Development Officer (MDO) network. However, because of the geographic size of the state and the spread of the museums, these five regionally based staff often have 60-80 museums or keeping places in their region needing support and so their time and expertise is spread very thinly. It is also predominantly a fee-for-service arrangement. That is, the museums have to pay for the MDO to come and deliver training. Usually this is done by the MDO working with a local museum to apply for a Regional Arts Development Fund (RADF) grant. In Victoria there is a roving curator program where eligible regional museums can apply to have a professional curator come and work with them for a few days to help the volunteers curate exhibitions. The roving curator can also provide advice on “develop[ing] high quality exhibitions for diverse audiences” via email, telephone and networking events. Tasmania operates a similar scheme but their two roving curators are available for up to 25 days of work each year with eligible museums, provided the local council makes a financial contribution. The New South Wales government supports the museum advisor program through which a museum professional will come to your museum for up to 20 days/year to give advice and hands-on training—provided your local council pays $7000, an amount that is matched by the state government—for this service. In 2010, in response to recommendations in the Dunn Report (2007), the Collections Council of Australia (CCA) established a pilot project with the City of Kalgoorlie-Boulder in Western Australia and $120,000 in funding from the Myer Foundation to trial the provision of a paid Collections Care Coordinator who would provide free training, expertise and support to local museums in the region. Tragically, CCA was de-funded by the Cultural Ministers Council the same year and the roll-out of a hub and spoke regional model was not supported by government due to the lack of an evidence base (Winkworth, “Let a Thousand Flowers” 18). An evaluation of the trial project would have tested a different model of regional training and added to the evidence base.All these state-based models (except the aborted Collections Care hub in Western Australia) require small regional museums to compete with each other for access to a museum professional and to successfully apply for funding, usually from their local council or state government. If they are successful, the training that is delivered is a one-off, as they are unlikely to get a second slice of the regional pie.An alternative to this competitive, fly-in fly-out, one-off model of professional development is to harness the technology and resources of local libraries and other cultural facilities in regional areas. This is what the Sydney Opera House Trust did in March 2019 to deliver their All about Women program of speakers via live streaming to 37 satellite sites throughout Australia and New Zealand.Harnessing Technology and Using Regional Library Infrastructure to Provide Training: ScenarioImagine the following scenario. It is a Monday morning in a regional library in Dubbo, New South Wales. Dubbo is 391 km or five hours drive by car from the nearest capital city (Sydney) and there are 50 regional museums within a 100 km radius. Ten people are gathered in a meeting room at the library watching a live stream of the keynote speakers who are presenting at their national museums conference. They are from five regional museums where they work as volunteers or part-time paid staff. They cannot afford to pay $2000, or more, to attend the conference, but they are happy to self-fund to drive for an hour or two to link up with other colleagues to listen to the presentations. They make notes and tweet in their questions using the conference twitter handle and hashtag. They have not been exposed to international speakers in the industry before and the ideas presented are fresh and stimulating. When the conference breaks for morning tea, they take a break too and get to know each other over a cuppa (provided free of charge by the library). Just as the networking sessions at conferences are vitally important for the delegates, they are even more important to address social isolation amongst this group. When they reconvene, they discuss their questions and agree to email the presenters with the questions that are unresolved. After the conference keynote sessions finish, the main conference (in the capital city) disperses into parallel sessions, which are no longer available via live stream.To make the two-hour drive more worthwhile and continue their professional development, they have arranged to hold a significance assessment workshop as well. Each museum worker has brought along photographs of one item in their collection that they want to do more research on. Some of them have also brought the object, if it is small and robust enough to travel. They have downloaded copies of Significance 2.0 and read it before they arrived. They started to write significance reports but could not fully understand how to apply some of the criteria. They cannot afford to pay for professional workshop facilitators, but they have arranged for the local studies librarian to give them an hour of free training on using the library’s resources (online and onsite) to do research on the local area and local families. They learn more about Trove, Papers Past and other research tools which are available online. This is hands-on and computer-based skills training using their own laptops/tablets or the ones provided by the library. After the training with the librarian, they break into two groups and read each other’s significance reports and make suggestions. The day finishes with a cuppa at 2.30pm giving them time to drive home before the sun sets. They agree to exchange email addresses so they can keep in touch. All the volunteers and staff who attended these sessions in regional areas feel energised after these meetings. They no longer feel so isolated and like they are working in the dark. They feel supported just knowing that there are other people who are struggling with the same issues and constraints as they are. They are sick of talking about the lack of budget, expertise, training and resources and want to do something with what they have.Bert (fictional name) decides that it is worth capitalising on this success. He emails the people who came to the session in Dubbo to ask them if they would like to do it again but focus on some different training needs. He asks them to choose two of the following three professional development options. First, they can choose to watch and discuss a recording of the keynote presentations from day two of the recent national conference. The conference organisers have uploaded digital recordings of the speakers’ presentations and the question time to the AMaGA website. This is an option for local libraries that do not have sufficient bandwidth to live stream video. The local library technician will help them cast the videos to a large screen. Second, they can each bring an object from their museum collection that they think needs conservation work. If the item is too fragile or big to move, they will bring digital photographs of it instead. Bert consulted their state-based museum and found some specialist conservators who have agreed to Skype or Facetime them in Dubbo free of charge, to give them expert advice about how to care for their objects, and most importantly, what not to do. The IT technician at Dubbo Library can set up their meeting room so that they can cast the Skype session onto a large smart screen TV. One week before the event, they will send a list of their objects and photographs of them to the conservator so that she can prepare, and they can make best use of her time. After this session, they will feel more confident about undertaking small cleaning and flattening treatments and know when they should not attempt a treatment themselves and need to call on the experts. Third, they could choose to have a training session with the council’s grants officer on writing grant applications. As he assesses grant applications, he can tell them what local councils look for in a successful grant application. He can also inform them about some of the grants that might be relevant to them. After the formal training, there will be an opportunity for them to exchange information about the grants they have applied for in the past—sometimes finding out what’s available can be difficult—and work in small groups to critique each other’s grant applications.The group chooses options two and three, as they want more practical skills development. They take a break in the middle of the day for lunch, which gives them the opportunity to exchange anecdotes from their volunteer work and listen to and support each other. They feel validated and affirmed. They have gained new skills and don’t feel so isolated. Before they leave, Alice agrees to get in touch with everyone to organise their next regional training day.Harnessing Technology and Using Regional Library Infrastructure to Provide Training: BenefitsThese scenarios need not be futuristic. The training needs are real, as is the desire to learn and the capacity of libraries to support regional groups. While funding for regional museums has stagnated or declined in recent years, libraries have been surging ahead. In August 2018, the New South Wales Government announced an “historic investment” of $60 million into all 370 public libraries that would “transform the way NSW’s public libraries deliver much-needed services, especially in regional areas” (Smith). Libraries are equipped and charged with the responsibility of enabling local community groups to make best use of their resources. Most state and national museum workers are keen to share their expertise with their regional colleagues: funding and distance are often the only barriers. These scenarios allow national conference keynote speakers to reach a much larger audience than the conference attendees. While this strategy might reduce the number of workers from regional areas who pay to attend conferences, the reality is that due to distance, other volunteer commitments, expense and family responsibilities, they probably would not attend anyway. Most regional museums and galleries and their staff might be asset-rich, but they are cash-poor, and the only way their workers get to attend conferences is if they win a bursary or grant. In 2005, Winkworth said: “the future for community museums is to locate them within local government as an integral part of the cultural, educational and economic infrastructure of the community, just like libraries and galleries” (“Fixing the Slums” 7). Fourteen years on, very little progress has been made in this direction. Those museums which have been integrated into the local council infrastructure, such as at Orange and Wagga Wagga in western New South Wales, are doing much better than those that are still stuck in ‘cultural poverty’ and trying to operate independently.However, the co-location and convergence of museums, libraries and archives is only successful if it is well managed. Helena Robinson has examined the impact on museum collection management and interpretation of five local government funded, converged collecting institutions in Australia and New Zealand and found that the process is complex and does not necessarily result in “optimal” cross-disciplinary expertise or best practice outcomes (14158).ConclusionRobinson’s research, however, did not consider community-based collecting institutions using regional libraries as sites for training and networking. By harnessing local library resources and making better use of existing communications technology it is possible to create regional hubs for professional development and collegiate support, which are not reliant on grants. If the current competitive, fly-in fly-out, self-funded model of providing professional development and support to regional museums continues, then the future for our cultural heritage collections and the dedicated volunteers who care for them is bleak. Alternatively, the scenarios I have described give regional museum workers agency to address their own professional development needs. This in no way removes the need for leadership, advocacy and coordination by national representative bodies such as AMaGA and Museums Aotearoa. If AMaGA partnered with the Australian Library and Information Association (ALIA) to stream their conference keynote sessions to strategically located regional libraries and used some of their annual funding from the Department of Communication and the Arts to pay for museum professionals to travel to some of those sites to deliver training, they would be investing in the nation’s social and cultural capital and addressing the professional development needs of regional museum workers. This would also increase the sustainability of our cultural heritage collections, which are valuable economic assets.ReferencesAustralian Bureau of Statistics. “2071.0—Census of Population and Housing: Reflecting Australia—Snapshot of Australia, 2016”. Canberra: Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2017. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://www.abs.gov.au/ausstats/abs@.nsf/Lookup/by%20Subject/2071.0~2016~Main%20Features~Snapshot%20of%20Australia,%202016~2>.Boylan, Patrick. “The Intangible Heritage: A Challenge and an Opportunity for Museums and Museum Professional Training.” International Journal of Intangible Heritage 1 (2006): 53–65.Burton, Christine, and Jane Griffin. “More than a Museum? Understanding How Small Museums Contribute to Social Capital in Regional Communities.” Asia Pacific Journal of Arts & Cultural Management 5.1 (2008): 314–32. 17 Mar. 2019 <http://apjacm.arts.unimelb.edu.au/article/view/32>.Dunn, Anne. The Dunn Report: A Report on the Concept of Regional Collections Jobs. Adelaide: Collections Council of Australia, 2007.ICOM Curricula Guidelines for Professional Museum Development. 2000. <http://museumstudies.si.edu/ICOM-ICTOP/comp.htm>.Kelly, Lynda. “Measuring the Impact of Museums on Their Communities: The Role of the 21st Century Museum.” New Roles and Issues of Museums INTERCOM Symposium (2006): 25–34. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://media.australianmuseum.net.au/media/dd/Uploads/Documents/9355/impact+paper+INTERCOM+2006.bb50ba1.pdf>.Museums and Galleries New South Wales (MGNSW). 2018 NSW Museums and Galleries Sector Census. Museums and Galleries of New South Wales. Data and Insights—Culture Counts. Sydney: MGNSW, 2019. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://mgnsw.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/2018-NSW-Museum-Gallery-Sector-Census.pdf>Oppenheimer, Melanie. Volunteering: Why We Can’t Survive without It. Sydney: U of New South Wales P, 2008.Pigott, Peter. Museums in Australia 1975. Report of the Committee of Inquiry on Museums and National Collections Including the Report of the Planning Committee on the Gallery of Aboriginal Australia. Canberra: Australian Government Printing Service, 1975. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://apo.org.au/node/35268>.Public Sector Commission, Western Australia. 70:20:10 Framework Learning Philosophy. Perth: Government of Western Australia, 2018. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://publicsector.wa.gov.au/centre-public-sector-excellence/about-centre/702010-framework>.Robinson, Helena. “‘A Lot of People Going That Extra Mile’: Professional Collaboration and Cross-Disciplinarity in Converged Collecting Institutions.” Museum Management and Curatorship 31 (2016): 141–58.Scott, Lee. National Operations Manager, Museums Australia, Personal Communication. 22 Oct. 2018.Shaw, Iain, and Lee Davidson, Museums Aotearoa 2014 Sector Survey Report. Wellington: Victoria U, 2014. 17 Mar. 2019 <http://www.museumsaotearoa.org.nz/sites/default/files/documents/museums_aotearoa_sector_survey_2014_report_-_final_draft_oct_2015.pdf>.Smith, Alexandra. “NSW Libraries to Benefit from $60 Million Boost.” Sydney Morning Herald 24 Aug. 2018. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://www.smh.com.au/politics/nsw/nsw-libraries-to-benefit-from-60-million-boost-20180823-p4zzdj.html>. Winkworth, Kylie. “Fixing the Slums of Australian Museums; or Sustaining Heritage Collections in Regional Australia.” Museums Australia Conference Paper. Canberra: Museums Australia, 2005. ———. “Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom: Museums in Regional Australia.” Understanding Museums—Australian Museums and Museology. Eds. Des Griffin and Leon Paroissien. Canberra: National Museum of Australia, 2011. 17 Mar. 2019 <https://nma.gov.au/research/understanding-museums/KWinkworth_2011.html>.

IntroductionSydney’s Garden Palace was a magnificent building with a grandeur that dominated the skyline, stretching from the site of the current State Library of New South Wales to the building that now houses the Sydney Conservatorium of Music. The Palace captivated society from its opening in 1879. This article outlines the building of one of Sydney’s early structural icons and how, despite being destroyed by fire after three short years in 1882, it had an enormous impact on the burgeoning colonial community of New South Wales, thus building a physical structure, pride and a suite of memories.Design and ConstructionIn February 1878, the Colonial Secretary’s Office announced that “it is intended to hold under the supervision of the Agricultural Society of New South Wales an international Exhibition in Sydney in August 1879” (Official Record ix). By December the same year it had become clear that the Agricultural Society lacked the resources to complete the project and control passed to the state government. Colonial Architect James Barnet was directed to prepare “plans for a building suitable for an international exhibition, proposed to be built in the Inner Domain” (Official Record xx). Within three days he had submitted a set of drawings for approval. From this point on there was a great sense of urgency to complete the building in less than 10 months for the exhibition opening the following September.The successful contractor was John Young, a highly experienced building contractor who had worked on the Crystal Palace for the 1851 London International Exhibition and locally on the General Post Office and Exhibition Building at Prince Alfred Park (Kent 6). Young was confident, procuring electric lights from London so that work could be carried out 24 hours a day, to ensure that the building was delivered on time. The structure was built, as detailed in the Colonial Record (1881), using over 1 million metres of timber, 2.5 million bricks and 220 tonnes of galvanised corrugated iron. Remarkably the building was designed as a temporary structure to house the Exhibition. At the end of the Exhibition the building was not dismantled as originally planned and was instead repurposed for government office space and served to house, among other things, records and objects of historical significance. Ultimately the provisional building materials used for the Garden Palace were more suited to a temporary structure, in contrast with those used for the more permanent structures built at the same time which are still standing today.The building was an architectural and engineering wonder set in a cathedral-like cruciform design, showcasing a stained-glass skylight in the largest dome in the southern hemisphere (64 metres high and 30 metres in diameter). The total floor space of the exhibition building was three and half hectares, and the area occupied by the Garden Palace and related buildings—including the Fine Arts Gallery, Agricultural Hall, Machinery Hall and 10 restaurants and places of refreshment—was an astounding 14 hectares (Official Record xxxvi). To put the scale of the Garden Palace into contemporary perspective it was approximately twice the size of the Queen Victoria Building that stands on Sydney’s George Street today.Several innovative features set the building apart from other Sydney structures of the day. The rainwater downpipes were enclosed in hollow columns of pine along the aisles, ventilation was provided through the floors and louvered windows (Official Record xxi) while a Whittier’s Steam Elevator enabled visitors to ascend the north tower and take in the harbour views (“Among the Machinery” 70-71). The building dominated the Sydney skyline, serving as a visual anchor point that welcomed visitors arriving in the city by boat:one of the first objects that met our view as, after 12 o’clock, we proceeded up Port Jackson, was the shell of the Exhibition Building which is so rapidly rising on the Domain, and which next September, is to dazzle the eyes of the world with its splendours. (“A ‘Bohemian’s’ Holiday Notes” 2)The DomeThe dome of the Garden Palace was directly above the intersection of the nave and transept and rested on a drum, approximately 30 metres in diameter. The drum featured 36 oval windows which flooded the space below with light. The dome was made of wood covered with corrugated galvanised iron featuring 12 large lattice ribs and 24 smaller ribs bound together with purlins of wood strengthened with iron. At the top of the dome was a lantern and stained glass skylight designed by Messrs. Lyon and Cottier. It was light blue, powdered with golden stars with wooden ribs in red, buff and gold (Notes 6). The painting and decorating of the dome commenced just one month before the exhibition was due to open. The dome was the sixth largest dome in the world at the time. During construction, contractor Mr Young allowed visitors be lifted in a cage to view the building’s progress.During the construction of the Lantern which surmounts the Dome of the Exhibition, visitors have been permitted, through the courtesy of Mr. Young, to ascend in the cage conveying materials for work. This cage is lifted by a single cable, which was constructed specially of picked Manilla hemp, for hoisting into position the heavy timbers used in the construction. The sensation whilst ascending is a most novel one, and must resemble that experienced in ballooning. To see the building sinking slowly beneath you as you successively reach the levels of the galleries, and the roofs of the transept and aisles is an experience never to be forgotten, and it seems a pity that no provision can be made for visitors, on paying a small fee, going up to the dome. (“View from the Lantern of the Dome Exhibition” 8)The ExhibitionInternational Exhibitions presented the opportunity for countries to express their national identities and demonstrate their economic and technological achievements. They allowed countries to showcase the very best examples of contemporary art, handicrafts and the latest technologies particularly in manufacturing (Pont and Proudfoot 231).The Sydney International Exhibition was the ninth International Exhibition and the colony’s first, and was responsible for bringing the world to Sydney at a time when the colony was prosperous and full of potential. The Exhibition—opening on 17 September 1879 and closing on 20 April 1880—had an enormous impact on the community, it boosted the economy and was the catalyst for improving the city’s infrastructure. It was a great source of civic pride.Image 1: The International Exhibition Sydney, 1879-1880, supplement to the Illustrated Sydney News Jan. 1880. Image credit: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW (call no.: DL X8/3)This bird’s eye view of the Garden Palace shows how impressive the main structure was and how much of the Gardens and Domain were occupied by ancillary buildings for the Exhibition. Based on an original drawing by John Thomas Richardson, chief engraver at the Illustrated Sydney News, this lithograph features a key identifying buildings including the Art Gallery, Machinery Hall, and Agricultural Hall. Pens and sheds for livestock can also be seen. The parade ground was used throughout the Exhibition for displays of animals. The first notable display was the International Show of Sheep featuring Australian, French and English sheep; not surprisingly the shearing demonstrations proved to be particularly popular with the community.Approximately 34 countries and their colonies participated in the Exhibition, displaying the very best examples of technology, industry and art laid out in densely packed courts (Barnet n.p.). There were approximately 14,000 exhibits (Official Record c) which included displays of Bohemian glass, tapestries, fine porcelain, fabrics, pyramids of gold, metals, minerals, wood carvings, watches, ethnographic specimens, and heavy machinery. Image 2: “Meet Me under the Dome.” Illustrated Sydney News 1 Nov. 1879: 4. Official records cite that between 19,853 and 24,000 visitors attended the Exhibition on the opening day of 17 September 1879, and over 1.1 million people visited during its seven months of operation. Sizeable numbers considering the population of the colony, at the time, was just over 700,000 (New South Wales Census).The Exhibition helped to create a sense of place and community and was a popular destination for visitors. On crowded days the base of the dome became a favourite meeting place for visitors, so much so that “meet me under the dome” became a common expression in Sydney during the Exhibition (Official Record lxxxiii).Attendance was steady and continuous throughout the course of the Exhibition and, despite exceeding the predicted cost by almost four times, the Exhibition was deemed a resounding success. The Executive Commissioner Mr P.A. Jennings remarked at the closing ceremony:this great undertaking […] marks perhaps the most important epoch that has occurred in our history. In holding this exhibition we have entered into a new arena and a race of progress among the nations of the earth, and have placed ourselves in kindly competition with the most ancient States of the old and new world. (Official Record ciii)Initially the cost of admission was set at 5 shillings and later dropped to 1 shilling. Season tickets for the Exhibition were also available for £3 3s which entitled the holder to unlimited entry during all hours of general admission. Throughout the Exhibition, season ticket holders accounted for 76,278 admissions. The Exhibition boosted the economy and encouraged authorities to improve the city’s services and facilities which helped to build a sense of community as well as pride in the achievement of such a fantastic structure. A steam-powered tramway was installed to transport exhibition-goers around the city, after the Exhibition, the tramway network was expanded and by 1905–1906 the trams were converted to electric traction (Freestone 32).After the exhibition closed, the imposing Garden Palace building was used as office space and storage for various government departments.An Icon DestroyedIn the early hours of 22 September 1882 tragedy struck when the Palace was engulfed by fire (“Destruction of the Garden Palace” 7). The building – and all its contents – destroyed.Image 3: Burning of the Garden Palace from Eaglesfield, Darlinghurst, sketched at 5.55am, Sep 22/82. Image credit: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW (call no.: SSV/137) Many accounts and illustrations of the Garden Palace fire can be found in contemporary newspapers and artworks. A rudimentary drawing by an unknown artist held by the State Library of New South Wales appears to have been created as the Palace was burning. The precise time and location is recorded on the painting, suggesting it was painted from Eaglesfield, a school on Darlinghurst Road. It purveys a sense of immediacy giving some insight into the chaos and heat of the tragedy. A French artist living in Sydney, Lucien Henry, was among those who attempted to capture the fire. His assistant, G.H. Aurousseau, described the event in the Technical Gazette in 1912:Mister Henry went out onto the balcony and watched until the Great Dome toppled in; it was then early morning; he went back to his studio procured a canvas, sat down and painted the whole scene in a most realistic manner, showing the fig trees in the Domain, the flames rising through the towers, the dome falling in and the reflected light of the flames all around. (Technical Gazette 33-35)The painting Henry produced is not the watercolour held by the State Library of New South Wales, however it is interesting to see how people were moved to document the destruction of such an iconic building in the city’s history.What Was Destroyed?The NSW Legislative Assembly debate of 26 September 1882, together with newspapers of the day, documented what was lost in the fire. The Garden Palace housed the foundation collection of the Technological and Sanitary Museum (the precursor to the Powerhouse Museum, now the Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences), due to open on 1 December 1882. This collection included significant ethnological specimens such as Australian Indigenous artefacts, many of which were acquired from the Sydney International Exhibition. The Art Society of New South Wales had hung 300 paintings in preparation for their annual art exhibition due to open on 2 October of that year, all of these paintings consumed by fire.The Records of the Crown Lands Occupation Office were lost along with the 1881 Census (though the summary survived). Numerous railway surveys were lost, as were: £7,000 worth of statues, between 20,000 and 30,000 plants and the holdings of the Linnean Society offices and museum housed on the ground floor. The Eastern Suburbs Brass Band performed the day before at the opening of the Eastern Suburbs Horticultural Society Flower show; all the instruments were stored in the Garden Palace and were destroyed. Several Government Departments also lost significant records, including the: Fisheries Office; Mining Department; Harbour and Rivers Department; and, as mentioned, the Census Department.The fire was so ferocious that the windows in the terraces along Macquarie Street cracked with the heat and sheets of corrugated iron were blown as far away as Elizabeth Bay. How Did The Fire Start?No one knows how the fire started on that fateful September morning, and despite an official enquiry no explanation was ever delivered. One theory blamed the wealthy residents of Macquarie Street, disgruntled at losing their harbour views. Another was that it was burnt to destroy records stored in the basement of the building that contained embarrassing details about the convict heritage of many distinguished families. Margaret Lyon, daughter of the Garden Palace decorator John Lyon, wrote in her diary:a gentleman who says a boy told him when he was putting out the domain lights, that he saw a man jump out of the window and immediately after observed smoke, they are advertising for the boy […]. Everyone seems to agree on his point that it has been done on purpose – Today a safe has been found with diamonds, sapphires and emeralds, there were also some papers in it but they were considerably charred. The statue of her majesty or at least what remains of it, for it is completely ruined – the census papers were also ruined, they were ready almost to be sent to the printers, the work of 30 men for 14 months. Valuable government documents, railway and other plans all gone. (MLMSS 1381/Box 1/Item 2) There are many eyewitness accounts of the fire that day. From nightwatchman Mr Frederick Kirchen and his replacement Mr John McKnight, to an emotional description by 14-year-old student Ethel Pockley. Although there were conflicting accounts as to where the fire may have started, it seems likely that the fire started in the basement with flames rising around the statue of Queen Victoria, situated directly under the dome. The coroner did not make a conclusive finding on the cause of the fire but was scathing of the lack of diligence by the authorities in housing such important items in a building that was not well-secured a was a potential fire hazard.Building a ReputationA number of safes were known to have been in the building storing valuables and records. One such safe, a fireproof safe manufactured by Milner and Son of Liverpool, was in the southern corner of the building near the southern tower. The contents of this safe were unscathed in contrast with the contents of other safes, the contents of which were destroyed. The Milner safe was a little discoloured and blistered on the outside but otherwise intact. “The contents included three ledgers, or journals, a few memoranda and a plan of the exhibition”—the glue was slightly melted—the plan was a little discoloured and a few loose papers were a little charred but overall the contents were “sound and unhurt”—what better advertising could one ask for! (“The Garden Palace Fire” 5).barrangal dyara (skin and bones): Rebuilding CommunityThe positive developments for Sydney and the colony that stemmed from the building and its exhibition, such as public transport and community spirit, grew and took new forms. Yet, in the years since 1882 the memory of the Garden Palace and its disaster faded from the consciousness of the Sydney community. The great loss felt by Indigenous communities went unresolved.Image 4: barrangal dyara (skin and bones). Image credit: Sarah Morley.In September 2016 artist Jonathan Jones presented barrangal dyara (skin and bones), a large scale sculptural installation on the site of the Garden Palace Building in Sydney’s Royal Botanic Garden. The installation was Jones’s response to the immense loss felt throughout Australia with the destruction of countless Aboriginal objects in the fire. The installation featured thousands of bleached white shields made of gypsum that were laid out to show the footprint of the Garden Palace and represent the rubble left after the fire.Based on four typical designs from Aboriginal nations of the south-east, these shields not only raise the chalky bones of the building, but speak to the thousands of shields that would have had cultural presence in this landscape over generations. (Pike 33)ConclusionSydney’s Garden Palace was a stunning addition to the skyline of colonial Sydney. A massive undertaking, the Palace opened, to great acclaim, in 1879 and its effect on the community of Sydney and indeed the colony of New South Wales was sizeable. There were brief discussions, just after the fire, about rebuilding this great structure in a more permanent fashion for the centenary Exhibition in 1888 (“[From Our Own Correspondents] New South Wales” 5). Ultimately, it was decided that this achievement of the colony of New South Wales would be recorded in history, gifting a legacy of national pride and positivity on the one hand, but on the other an example of the destructive colonial impact on Indigenous communities. For many Sydney-siders today this history is as obscured as the original foundations of the physical building. What we build—iconic structures, civic pride, a sense of community—require maintenance and remembering. References“Among the Machinery.” The Sydney Mail and New South Wales Advertiser 10 Jan. 1880: 70-71.Aurousseau, G.H. “Lucien Henry: First Lecturer in Art at the Sydney Technical College.” Technical Gazette 2.III (1912): 33-35.Barnet, James. International Exhibition, Sydney, 1880: References to the Plans Showing the Space and Position Occupied by the Various Exhibits in the Garden Palace. Sydney: Colonial Architect’s Office, 1880.“A ‘Bohemian’s’ Holiday Notes.” The Singleton Argus and Upper Hunter General Advocate 23 Apr. 1879: 2.Census Department. New South Wales Census. 1881. 3 Mar. 2017 <http://hccda.ada.edu.au/pages/NSW-1881-census-02_vi>. “Destruction of the Garden Palace.” Sydney Morning Herald 23 Sep. 1882: 7.Freestone, Robert. “Space Society and Urban Reform.” Colonial City, Global City, Sydney’s International Exhibition 1879. Eds. Peter Proudfoot, Roslyn Maguire, and Robert Freestone. Darlinghurst, NSW: Crossing P, 2000. 15-33.“[From Our Own Correspondents] New South Wales.” The Age (Melbourne, Vic.) 30 Sep. 1882: 5.“The Garden Palace Fire.” Sydney Morning Herald 25 Sep. 1882: 5.Illustrated Sydney News and New South Wales Agriculturalist and Grazier 1 Nov. 1879: 4.“International Exhibition.” Australian Town and Country Journal 15 Feb. 1879: 11.Kent, H.C. “Reminiscences of Building Methods in the Seventies under John Young. Lecture.” Architecture: An Australian Magazine of Architecture and the Arts Nov. (1924): 5-13.Lyon, Margaret. Unpublished Manuscript Diary. MLMSS 1381/Box 1/Item 2.New South Wales, Legislative Assembly. Debates 22 Sep. 1882: 542-56.Notes on the Sydney International Exhibition of 1879. Melbourne: Government Printer, 1881.Official Record of the Sydney International Exhibition 1879. Sydney: Government Printer, 1881.Pike, Emma. “barrangal dyara (skin and bones).” Jonathan Jones: barrangal dyara (skin and bones). Eds. Ross Gibson, Jonathan Jones, and Genevieve O’Callaghan. Balmain: Kaldor Public Arts Project, 2016.Pont, Graham, and Peter Proudfoot. “The Technological Movement and the Garden Palace.” Colonial City, Global City, Sydney’s International Exhibition 1879. Eds. Peter Proudfoot, Roslyn Maguire, and Robert Freestone. Darlinghurst, NSW: Crossing Press, 2000. 239-249.“View from the Lantern of the Dome of the Exhibition.” Illustrated Sydney News and New South Wales Agriculturalist and Grazier 9 Aug. 1879: 8.

Sustainable development is a global trend to build a prosperous society, especially to promote green growth towards ecological approach and based on sustainable use of natural resources in the context of climate change. This article, therefore, is an attempt to synthesize the sustainable development process in the world, from the initial awareness of the role of the environment in the development process in the 1980s, to the development of Agenda 21 in the 1990s, to develop and implement the 2030 agenda for sustainable development in the present time. The change in awareness and practice of sustainable development also demonstrates the trend of social-ecological transformation as a development trend and is an urgent requirement towards building a prosperous and sustainable society. Integrating sustainable development into international and national development policies can be considered as a form of promoting social-ecological transformation. The UNESCO’ system of Biosphere Reserves as a model for promoting sustainable development initiatives towards harmony between people and nature can be considered as a model of a social-ecological system. Vietnam as a country actively participating the sustainable development process in the world has made great efforts to build a prosperous and sustainable society. Keywords: Sustainable development, social - ecological transformation, Vietnam. References [1] United Nations, Agenda 2, United Nations Conference on Environment & Development Rio de Janerio, Brazil, 3 to 14 June 1992, pp. 351.[2] IUCN, UNEP, WWF, World Conservation Strategy: Living Resource Conservation for Sustainable Development, 1980, pp. 77.[3] United Nations, Our Common Future, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987.[4] Meadows, H. Donella, Meadows, L. Dennis, Randers, Jørgen; Behrens III, W. William, The Limits to Growth; A Report for the Club of Rome's Project on the Predicament of Mankind. New York: Universe Books, 1972.[5] IUCN, UNEP và WWF, Caring for the Earth: A Strategy for Sustainable Living (in Vietnamse), Translation from original copy, Hanoi: Science and Technology Publishing House, 1993, pp. 240.[6] Millennium Ecosystem Assessment (MEA), Ecosystems and Human Well-being: Synthesis. Island Press, Washington, DC, 2005, pp. 102.[7] United Nations, Global Sustainable Development Report, 2015a, pp. 198.[8] United Nations, Transforming our world: the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. A/RES/70/1, 2015b, pp. 40.[9] Liliane Danso-Dahmen, Philip Degenhardt (Eds.), Social-Ecological Transformation Perspectives from Asia and Europe. Published by the Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung, 2019, pp. 111.[10] Bass Steve, Conceptual Frameworks for Integrating Sustainable Development Dimensions Paper for UNDESA/UNEP/UNDP Workshop on SD Integration tools, Geneva, 14-15 October 2015.[11] Cejudo, Guillermo M and Cynthia Michel, Addressing fragmented government action: Coordination, coherence, and integration. Paper to be presented at the 2nd International Conference in Public Policy, Milan, July 2015, pp. 22.[12] UN-DESA, Integrated Approaches to Sustainable Development Planning and Implementation. Report of the Capacity Building Workshop and Expert Group Meeting, Department of Economic & Social Affairs, 2015.[13] ESDN, Horizontal Policy Integration and Sustainable Development: Conceptual remarks and governance examples. ESDN Quarterly Report June 2009, http://www.sd-network.eu/quarterly%20reports/report%20files/pdf/2009-June-Horizontal_Policy_Integration_and_Sustainable_Development.pdf.[14] OECD, Guidance on Sustainability Impact Assessment. Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, 2010.[15] DFID, Sustainable Livelihoods Guidance Sheets. April 1999, https://www.ennonline.net/dfidsustainableliving.[16] Adams, W.M, The Future of Sustainability: Re-thinking Environment and Development in the Twenty-first Century. Report of the IUCN Renowned Thinkers Meeting, 29-31 January 2006, pp. 18. https://portals.iucn.org/library/sites/library/files/documents/Rep-2006-002.pdf.[17] J. Rockström et al., A safe operating space for humanity, Nature 461(7263), 2009a, 472–475.[18] J. Rockström et al., Planetary Boundaries: Exploring the Safe Operating Space for Humanity. Ecology and Society 14(2), 2009b, 32. [19] Steffen, Will, K. Richardson, J. Rockström, S.E. Cornell, I. Fetzer, E.M. Bennett, R. Biggs, S.R. Carpenter, Wim de Vries, Cynthia A. de Wit, Carl Folke, Dieter Gerten, J. Heinke, G.M. Mace, Linn M. Persson, Veerabhadran Ramanathan, B. Reyers, Sverker Sörlin, Planetary boundaries: Guiding human development on a changing planet. Science 347, 1259855 (2015). DOI: 10.1126/science.1259855.[20] Pisano, Umberto and Gerald Berger, Planetary Boundaries for Sustainable Development: From a conceptual perspective to national applications. ESDN Quarterly Report 30 – October 2013, ESDN Quarterly Report N.30. European Sustainable Development Network, 31 pages, http://www.sd-network.eu/quarterly%20reports/report%20files/pdf/2013-October-Planetary_Boundaries_for_SD.pdf[21] Raworth Kate, From Will these Sustainable Development Goals get us into the doughnut (aka a safe and just space for humanity)? Duncan Green’s discussion on Raworth’s doughnut and SDGs. 2014, http://oxfamblogs.org/fp2p/will-these-sustainable-development-goals-get-us-into-the-doughnut-aka-a-safe-and-just-space-for-humanity-guest-post-from-kate-raworth/[22] Vietnam, Implementation of Sustainable Development: National Report at the UN Conference on Sustainable Development (Rio+20) (in Vietnamese), Ministry of Planning and Investment, Hanoi, May 2012, pp. 82.[23] Vietnam, Voluntary National Review on the Implementation of the Sustainable Development Goals ,Ministry of Planning and Investment, 2018, pp. 90 (in Vietnamese).[24] IMHEN, Integrating Climate Change into Socio-economic Development Plans Viet Nam Institute of Meteorology, Hydrology and Climate Change, Viet Nam Publishing House of Natural Resources, Environment and Cartography, Hanoi, 2012, pp.137 (in Vietnamese).[25] T. Thuc, H.T.L. Huong and D. M. Trang, Technical guidance on integrating climate change into development planning Viet Nam Institute of Meteorology, Hydrology and Climate Change, Viet Nam Publishing House of Natural Resources, Environment and Cartography, Hanoi, 2012, pp. 69 (in Vietnamese).[26] MPI and UNDP, A study on advanced strategic environmental assessment tools for the sustainability assessment of development planning projects, A project on "Strengthening capacity to integrate sustainable development and climate change in planning in Vietnam, Hanoi, 2011, pp. 79 (in Vietnamese).[27] Minister of the Ministry of Planning and Investment, Circular No. 02/2013/TT-BKHDT dated March 27, 2013 guiding the implementation of a number of contents of the Strategy for Sustainable Development in Vietnam for the period 2011-2020), 2013 (in Vietnamese).[28] V.T. Son and T.T. Phuong, Monitoring and evaluation criteria for management effectiveness for biosphere reserves: Practices in the world and applicability in Vietnam (in Vietnamese). Journal of Environment, Topic II, 2018, 12-15.[29] German MAB National Committee. Criteria for Designation and Evaluation of UNESCO Biosphere Reserves in Germany. Publisher: German National Committee for the UNESCO Programme “Man and the Biosphere” (MAB), 1996, pp. 65.[30] V.T. Son et al, Final report of the independent State-level scientific and technological project titled “Research on developing a set of criteria and procedures for monitoring and evaluating the efficiency of management of biosphere reserves in Vietnam”, Code DTLXH, 20/15.2018.

Our capacity to tell stories is a skill that can be considered both natural and learned. Storytelling and oral history are parts of all human societies, and we seek to understand ourselves and each other through our stories. Our individual and collective memories collide in our stories, and reconcile to construct what Kansteiner calls our "collectively shared representations of the past" (182). It is our personal narratives that are the building blocks to public understanding, and as Harter, Japp and Beck maintain in Narratives, Health and Healing, "narrative is a fundamental human way of giving meaning to experience" (3). Adding to this idea of narrative as way of illuminating meaning, Goodall posits narrative as also being a way of knowing and as a research methodology, stating "narrative provides us with a range of forms and styles for discovering meaning and communicating it to readers through stories. It is an epistemology" (13). This re-imaging and re-purposing of narrative and storytelling has the capacity to significantly influence and shift the ways in which cultural and social research is carried out. This emerging approach can also influence the ways we understand the experiences of marginalised groups, and consequently how we respond to issues around social inclusion through policy and community based solutions. For researchers personal stories and narratives have the capacity to illuminate the nuances of broad issues; this potential also means that seemingly intractable social problems are given a human face with which to engage. It is in this way that personal narratives energise public narratives and shape our ways of thinking and collective understandings (Harter et al. 4). This paper investigates a digital storytelling project conducted in late 2009 with a group of Forgotten Australians in the months leading up to the public apology in the Australian Parliament, and how the personal stories of the participants brought to life previous research about the marginalisation of individuals who had experienced out-of-home care as children. This paper also explores how the endemic, institutionalised abuse of a group of people was translated to the broader community and galvanised support through the impact of their personal stories. Digital Storytelling As a dynamic practice storytelling, in all its forms, must be nurtured and developed if it is to contribute to the lives of individuals and communities. The number of storytelling, and in particular digital storytelling, initiatives and projects in Australia has increased rapidly since the early 2000s, and are utilised by various public and community organisations for a variety of reasons. Digital technology has had a profound impact on the ability for "ordinary" people to tell their stories, and research has identified the potential of digital storytelling in these contexts to assist in the representation of multiple voices and viewpoints in society through inclusive processes of co-creation (cf. see Burgess; Hartley, Uses and "TV"; Klaebe and Burgess). The storytelling project that forms the basis for this paper used some traditional written storytelling practices but was mainly concerned with digital storytelling. Digital stories are generally a two to four minute multi-media story that uses photographs, film and drawings to convey a personal story which the author narrates in their own voice over the series of images. Much has been, and continues to be written, about digital storytelling as a site of participatory culture and as a means of improving digital literacy in pockets of the community traditionally absent in the realm of digital citizenship (cf. Hartley, Uses; Hartley and McWilliam; Burgess; Meadows; Lundby). As Hartley points out digital storytelling has become such a compelling medium in which to record stories in communities because it "fills a gap between everyday cultural practice and professional media" (Uses 122). As a means of creating narratives digital storytelling has proven to be a significant mode, due in part to its ability to reach a large number of people relatively easily. The rise of digital storytelling partially mirrors the broad shift towards more participatory online culture that privileges user generated content and ordinary voices over official content. The origins of digital storytelling lie in a response to the absence of "ordinary" voices in mainstream media and policy making and grew with the increasing affordability of digital technology. The potential for social inclusion and participation along with the promise of self-representation is implicit in the discourse surrounding digital storytelling. "The ability to express oneself in digital media and in the case of digital storytelling using digital video editing, has become a central literary for full participation in society" (Lambert 85). Social Inclusion in an Australian context is defined by the Australian Government as all Australians feeling valued and having "the opportunity to participate fully in the life of our society. Achieving this vision means that all Australians will have the resources, opportunities and capability to" learn, work, engage in the community and have a voice (Social Inclusion Unit). The aims articulated by Lambert in the previous paragraph and the philosophy of social inclusion and the belief that individual stories have the capacity to impact on national agendas and policy lay at the heart of the digital storytelling project outlined later in this paper. The Forgotten Australians As cohort the Forgotten Australians are defined as individuals who were removed from their families, or were orphaned or child immigrants from the United Kingdom. These children were placed in institutions where they suffered abuse or neglect between 1930 and 1970, and it is estimated that up approximately 500,000 children were placed in out of home care during this time. In November 2009 the Australian Parliament delivered a bi-partisan apology to the Forgotten Australians for the pain and suffering they experienced in church and state run institutions. The stories of the Forgotten Australians were beginning to make their way into the consciousness of the Australian public in the lead up to the apology through documentaries on the national broadcasting service and stories in the mainstream media. Like most large groups the demographic of the Forgotten Australians is diverse, within those who identify as part of this group are successful and well-known Australians, along with ordinary Australians many of whom have struggled significantly as a direct result of their childhood experiences. Those involved in this project were considered to be individuals who were quite profoundly marginalised in mainstream society. A number lived with mental illness, the majority lacked stable housing and all had been severely emotionally, physically and sexually abused during their time in State or Church run institutions as children. The apology to the Forgotten Australians was preceded many years of advocacy and activism by community groups and individuals. They utilised personal stories, the digitisation of records and as the apology drew closer a number of digital storytelling projects to bring the personal narratives into the public arena in the hope of affecting change. Stories from these projects were broadcast across a variety of platforms such as YouTube, the websites for the major advocacy groups and community organisations and more recently the National Library Australia website. The stories differed from site to site and served different functions depending on the place from which they were disseminated. Hildebrand identifies the role of YouTube as a site for the intersection of personal experience, popular culture and historical narratives, and, as such, a vehicle for cultural memory "allow[ing] users to seek out the media texts that have shaped them and that would otherwise be forgotten in 'objective' histories" (54). YouTube videos relevant to the Forgotten Australians ranged from locally made stories and documentation, news items and presentations recorded by major organisations, but uploaded by individuals, and also those posted by these institutions themselves. A notable feature of all of these contributions is their role in the representation of witnesses' stories. In the case of reports on Forgotten Australians from major news organisations the commentary they attracted was largely from those who identified as fellow forgotten Australians attesting to—and corroborating—the interviewees' stories. Whether they were posted by survivors themselves or by mainstream media or other institutions, they exhibited a unity around a particular will to memory: setting the record straight through testimony. Here, the clips and posts were characterised by the provision of information as evidence for the assertion of cultural trauma as a shared experience and focus of identification (Adkins et al. 15). Storytelling functions as one of our most powerful forms for experiencing, expressing, and enacting sorrow and pain...it is pivotal in the process of sense making, allowing individuals to cope with chaotic, equivocal, and confusing conditions of everyday life, including illness and suffering. (152) Advocacy and community groups such as CLAN were focused on creating a sense of community amongst survivors with no story or artefact too small or insignificant to be included, which differed slightly from the agenda of the National Library of Australia—the institution of public memory that has been most closely involved in recording and disseminating the stories of the Forgotten Australians. The Forgotten Australians and Former Child Migrants Oral History Project conducted by the National Library Australia was one of the recommendations of the two Senate Community Affairs References Committee reports following the Senate Inquiries and receives funding from the Commonwealth Department of Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs. According to the National Library Australia website, this oral history project will run for three years and aims to document a rounded history of the experiences of the children in institutional care and the lifelong impact of these experiences on their lives and their families. This project will also interview a selection of advocates, and allied professionals including welfare officers, employees of institutions and administrators. (Project Team) In many important ways the purposes served in this project were those of the governments—previous and present, which was to capture and keep the stories, memories, documents and artefacts, and to share the officially selected stories with the rest of the nation, and those stories would support and affirm the government's roadmap for moving on from the apology. These digital storytelling projects, to varying degrees and levels of impact, served to provide the public with the personal narratives behind the issue being presented in the media and by advocacy groups as a large scale issue concerning hundreds of thousands of victims. Although the sheer size of the numbers of children affected was confronting, it was the personal stories that created a momentum towards the public apology. The findings of both Senate Inquiries recommended a formal apology; however this did not occur until the individual experiences of the Forgotten Australians were translated and represented in narratives and, through this, the construction of a sense of cultural memory resulting in formal recognition. Many Australians were sceptical about the importance of a public apology to the Forgotten Australians, as they had been of the apology to the Stolen Generation in 2008. To be a genuine act of reconciliation an apology requires the act of listening as much as speaking, fittingly Prime Minister Rudd quoted predominantly from personal oral history testimonies that had been collected over the years and that were of public record, but had not been digitally accessible to all, as many stories now are in the Bringing Them Home report. The Case Study In August 2009 I was funded by the Australasian Centre for Interactive Design (ACID) to conduct a series of digital storytelling and writing workshops in conjunction with Micah Projects, a community building and social justice organisation based in Brisbane. Micah delivers services for people experiencing homelessness, runs programmes for young mothers and is responsible for the Historical Abuse Network which is a network servicing the Forgotten Australians. After some discussion with the CEO of Micah it was decided that the clients involved with the Historical Abuse Network would benefit most from this project. Many of the participants had been involved in the 2003 senate inquiry into the treatment of children in institutional care. In the intervening years they had told the story of their abuse many times in official contexts and provided statements of harm for the inquiry. However, for this project we wanted to encourage the participants to create stories that allowed them some agency in their own lives rather, to re-claim some of their story from the official framework of abuse, and to use digital storytelling as a tool for this. The participants were between 45 and 65 in age, and were divided equally between women and men. There were a number of complexities inherent in this project, some of which were specific to this particular cohort and some specific to all marginalised individuals and groups. The most significant problem arose out the expectation that the "authors" will bring with them photographs and keepsakes from their lives to use in the stories. Many of the participants did not have photographs of their childhoods or of their families; some did not know how old they were (in many institutions all birthdays were celebrated on a single day, and consequently most lost track of their age and birth date) or had not had contact with their biological family for decades and as a result had few keepsakes. These hallmarks of legitimate biography were absent from their pasts and their presents. The combination of these factors meant that for many the ability to create a coherent narrative about their life or to feel ownership over their life had been seriously compromised. However, it became apparent that by using sounds and images in the digital story the technology was able to create a materiality out of memory for the participants. As it became clearer that the foundation of the stories was memory rather than a narrative arc, the more it became imperative to embrace the fragmentation, inconsistency and incoherence of the memories, and to incorporate these aspects into the digital stories. Instead of being easy to follow or emotionally satisfying narratives, some of the stories had much more in common with what is referred to in psychology and health frameworks as "chaos narratives". A chaos narrative has a sense of disconnected events characterised by a lack of closure and the presence of day-to-day uncertainty (Harter 4). Often such stories seem too incoherent to be told and too painful to be heard by others, as was certainly the case with some of the stories created for this project. Conclusion The Finding a Voice digital storytelling project led by Professor Jo Tacchi aligns with the aims of this project in its social innovation, and the role of storytelling and voice as having the genuine potential to impact on the understanding of poverty and disadvantage. Tacchi states that it "is an approach that allows those who are living in conditions that might constitute 'poverty' to tell those who are not what this experience is like, in their own words. Such an approach might challenge our 'expert' conceptions of poverty itself" (170), and confront mainstream or approved versions of social issues. Carabas posits that the agency embedded in the narrative act reforms or reframes the meanings of events through counter narratives and the act of telling transformed personal and social suffering. Those who had been objects of other's reports started to tell their own stories and rewrite official history in the first person singular (154). For the Forgotten Australians, those involved in this project and in similar ones the opportunity to tell their stories in their own words allowed them to push past the detached, impersonal representation of their experiences. Instead they could re-position the debate to being about individuals and the effect of government policy on their lives, and in doing so agitate for a formal apology. Storytelling and narrative as a research methodology, and as a way of knowing, is continuing to be refined by social and cultural researchers and by community organisations. Despite the emerging and nebulous nature of this field one thing is clear: our human desire to tell stories has the ability to be harnessed to build narratives which create understanding and insight and consequently demand that as communities and nations we respond to injustice and disadvantage accordingly. References Adkins, Barbara, Donna Hancox, and Helen Klaebe. "The Role of the Internet and Digital Technologies in the Struggle for Recognition of the Forgotten Australians." Proceedings of the A Decade in Internet Time: OII Symposium on the Dynamics of the Internet and Society, 21-24 September 2011. Oxford U of Oxford, 2011: 1-23. Burgess, Jean. "Hearing Ordinary Voices: Cultural Studies, Vernacular Creativity and Digital Storytelling." Continuum 20.2 (2006): 201-14. Carabas, Teodora, and Lynn Harter. "State-Induced Illness and Forbidden Stories: The Role of Storytelling in Healing, Individual and Social Traumas in Romania." Narratives, Health and Healing. Eds. Lynn Harter, Linda Japp, and Christina Beck. New York: Taylor and Francis, 2005. 149-69. Harter, Lynn, Linda Japp, and Christina Beck, eds. Narratives, Health & Healing. New York: Taylor & Francis. 2005. Hartley, John. "TV Stories: From Representation to Productivity." Story Circle: Digital Storytelling around the World. Eds. John Hartley and Kelly McWilliam. Oxford: Blackwell, 2009. 16-37.———. Uses of Digital Literacy. St. Lucia: U of Queensland P. 2009. Hildebrand, Lucas. "YouTube: Where Cultural Memory and Copyright Converge." Film Quarterly 61.1 (2007): 48-57. Kansteiner, Wolf. "Finding Meaning in Memory: A Methodological Critique of Collective Memory Studies." History & Theory 41 (2002): 179-97. Klaebe, Helen, and Jean Burgess. "Mediatisation and Institutions of Public Memory: Digital Storytelling and the Apology." Australian Historical Studies 41 (2002): 149-65. Lambert, Joe. "Where It All Started: The Centre of Digital Storytelling in California." Story Circle: Digital Storytelling around the World. Eds. John Hartley and Kelly McWilliam. Oxford: Blackwell, 2010. 79-90. Lundby, Kunt. Digital Storytelling, Mediatized Stories: Self-Representations in New Media. New York: Peter Lang, 2008. Meadows, Daniel. "Digital Storytelling - Research Based Practice in New Media." Visual Communication 2.2 (2003): 189-93. McWilliam, Kelly. "The Global Diffusion of a Community Media Practice: Digital Storytelling Online." Eds. John Hartley and Kelly McWilliam. Oxford: Blackwell, 2010. 37-77. Project Team. "Forgotten Australians and Former Child Migrants Oral History Project." National Library of Australia. 16 Sep. 2011 ‹http://www.nla.gov.au/oral-history/forgotten-australians-and-former-child-migrants-oral-history-project›. Social Inclusion Unit. "The Social Inclusion Agenda." Social Inclusion. Australian Government, 2011. 19 Sep. 2011 ‹http://www.socialinclusion.gov.au/›. Tacchi, Jo. "Finding a Voice: Participatory Development in Southeast Asia." Story Circle: Digital Storytelling around the World. Eds. John Hartley and Kelly McWilliam. Oxford: Blackwell, 2009. 167-75.

IntroductionIn a 2013 press release issued by Blind Citizens Australia, the advocacy group announced they were lodging a human rights complaint against the Australian government and the ABC over the lack of audio description available on the public broadcaster. Audio description is a track of narration included between the lines of dialogue which describes important visual elements of a television show, movie or performance. Audio description is broadly recognised as an essential feature to make television accessible to audiences who are blind or vision impaired (Utray et al.). Indeed, Blind Citizens Australia maintained that audio description was as important as captioning on Australian television:people who are blind have waited too long and are frustrated that audio description on television remains indefinitely beyond our reach. Our Deaf or hearing impaired peers have always seen great commitment from the ABC, but we continue to feel like second class citizens.While audio description as a technology was developed in the 1960s—around the same time as captions (Ellis, “Netflix Closed Captions”)—it is not as widely available on television and access is therefore often considered to be out of reach for this group. As a further comparison, in Australia, while the provision of captions was mandated in the Broadcasting Services Act (BSA) 1992 and television sets had clear Australian standards regarding their capability to display captions, there is no legislation for audio description and no consistency regarding the ability of television sets sold in Australia to display them (Ellis, “Television’s Transition”). While as a technology, audio description is as old as captioning it is not as widely available on television. This is despite the promise of technological advancements to facilitate its availability. For example, Cronin and King predicted that technological change such as the introduction of stereo sound on television would facilitate a more widespread availability of audio description; however, this has not eventuated. Similarly, in the lead up to the transition from analogue to digital broadcasting in Australia, government policy documents predicted a more widespread availability of audio description as a result of increased bandwidth available via digital television (Ellis, “Television’s Transition”). While these predictions paved way for an audio description trial, there has been no amendment to the BSA to mandate its provision.Audio description has been experienced on Australian broadcast television in 2012, but only for a 14-week trial on ABC1. The trial report, and feedback from disability groups, identified several technical impediments and limitations which effected the experience of audio described content during this trial, including: the timing of the trial during a period in which the transition from analogue to digital television was still occurring (creating hardware compatibility issues for some consumers); the limitations of the “ad hoc” approach undertaken by the ABC and manual implementation of audio description; and the need for upgraded digital receivers (ABC “Trial of Audio Description”, 2). While advocacy groups acknowledged the technical complexities involved, the expected stakeholder discussions that were due to be held post-trial, in part to attempt to resolve the issues experienced, were never undertaken. As a result of the lack of subsequent commitments to providing audio description, in 2013 advocacy group Blind Citizens Australia lodged their formal complaints of disability discrimination against the ABC and the Federal Government. Since the 2012 trial on ABC1, the ABC’s catch-up portal iView instigated another audio description trial in 2015. Through the iView trial it was further confirmed that audio description held considerable benefits for people with a vision impairment. They also demonstrated that audio description was technically feasible, with far less ‘technical difficulties’ than the experience of the 2012 broadcast-based trial. Over the 15 month trial on ABC iView 1,305 hours of audio described content was provided and played 158, 277 times across multiple platforms, including iOS, Android, the Freeview app and desktop computers (ABC, “ABC iView Audio Description Trial”).Yet despite repeated audio description trials and the lodgement of discrimination complaints, there remains no audio description on Australian broadcast television. Similarly, whereas 55 per cent of DVDs released in Australia have captions, only 25 per cent include an audio description track (Media Access Australia). At the time of writing, the only audio description available on Australian television is on Netflix Australia, a subscription video on demand provider.This article seeks to highlight the importance of television access for people with disability, with a specific focus on the provision of audio description for people with vision impairments. Research consistently shows that despite being a visual medium, people with vision impairments watch television at least once a day (Cronin and King; Ellis, “Netflix Closed Captions”). However, while television access has been a priority for advocates for people who are Deaf and hard of hearing (Downey), audiences advocating audio description are only recently making gains (Ellis, “Netflix Closed Captions”; Ellis and Kent). These gains are frequently attributed to technological change, particularly the digitisation of television and the introduction of subscription video on demand where users access television content online and are not constrained by broadcast schedules. This transformation of how we access television is also considered in the article, again with a focus on the provision–or lack thereof—of audio description.This article also reports findings of research conducted with Australians with disabilities accessing the emerging video on demand environment in 2016. The survey was run online from January to February 2016. Survey respondents included people with disability, their families, and carers, and were sourced through disability organisations and community groups as well as via disability-focused social media. A total of 145 people completed the survey and 12 people participated in follow-up interviews. Insights were gained into both how people with disability are currently using video on demand and their anticipated usage of services. Of note is that most subscription video on demand services (Netflix Australia, Stan, and Presto) had only been introduced in Australia in the year before the survey being carried out, with only Foxtel Play and Quickflix having been in operation for some time prior to that.Finally, the article ends by looking at past and current advocacy in this area, including a discussion on existing—albeit, to date, limited—political will.Access to Television for People with DisabilitiesTelevision can be disabling in different ways for people with impairments, yet several accessibility features exist to translate information. For example, people who are D/deaf or hard of hearing may require captions, while people with vision impairments prefer to make use of audio description (Alper et al.). Similarly, people with mobility and dexterity impairments found the transition to digital broadcasting difficult, particularly with relation to set top box set up (Carmichael et al.). As Joshua Robare has highlighted, even legislation has generally favoured the inclusion of audiences with hearing impairments, while disregarding those with vision impairments. Similarly, much of the literature in this area focuses on the provision of captions—a vital accessibility feature for people who are D/deaf or hard of hearing. Consequently, research into accessibility to television for a diversity of impairments, going beyond hearing impairments, remains deficient.In a study of Australian audiences with disability conducted between September and November 2013—during the final months of the analogue to digital simulcast period of Australian broadcast television—closed captions, clean audio, and large/colour-coded remote control keys emerged as the most desired access features (see Ellis, “Digital Television Flexibility”). Audio description barely registered in the top five. In a different study conducted two years ago/later, when disabled Australian audiences of video on demand were asked the same question, captions continued to dominate at 63.4 per cent; however, audio description was also seen to be a necessary feature for almost one third of respondents (see Ellis et al., Accessing Subcription Video).Robert Kingett, founder of the Accessible Netflix Project, participated in our research and told us in an interview that video on demand providers treat accessibility as an “afterthought”, particularly for blind people whom most don’t think of as watching television. Yet research dating back to the 1990s shows almost 100 per cent of people with vision impairments watch television at least once a day (Cronin & King). Statistically, the number of Australians who identify as blind or vision impaired is not insignificant. Vision Australia estimates that over 357,000 Australians have a vision impairment, while one in five Australians have a disability of some form. With an ageing population, this number is expected to grow exponentially in the next ten years (Australian Network on Disability). Kingett therefore describes this lack of accessibility as evidence video on demand is “stuck in the dark ages”, and advocates that people with vision impairments do use video on demand and therefore continue to have unmet access needs.Video on Demand—Transforming TelevisionSubscription video on demand services have caused a major shift in the way television is used and consumed in Australia. Prior to 2015, there was a small subscription video on demand industry in this country. However, in 2015, following the launch of Netflix Australia, Stan, and Presto, Australia was described as having entered the “streaming wars” (Tucker) where consumers would benefit from the increased competition. As Netflix gained dominance in the video on demand market internationally, people with disability began to recognise the potential this service could have in transforming their access to television.For example, the growing availability of video on demand services continues to provide disruptive change to the way in which consumers enjoy information and entertainment. While traditional broadcast television has provided great opportunities for participation in news, events, and popular culture, both socially and in the workplace, the move towards video on demand services has seen a notable decline in traditional television viewing habits, with online continuing to increase at the expense of Australian free-to-air programming (C-Scott).For the general population, this always-on, always-available, and always-shareable nature of video on demand means that the experience is both convenient and instant. If a television show is of interest to friends and family, it can be quickly shared through popular social media with others, allowing everyone to join in the experience. For people with disability, the ability to both share and personalise the experience of television is critical to the popularity of video on demand services for this group. This gives them not only the same benefits as others but also ensures that people with disability are not unintentionally excluded from participation—it allows people with disability the choice as to whether or not to join in. However, exclusion from video on demand is a significant concern for people with disability due to the lack of accessibility features in popular subscription services. The lack of captions, audio description, and interfaces that do not comply with international Web accessibility standards are resulting in many people with disability being unable to fully participate in the preferred viewing platforms of family and friends.The impact of this expands beyond the consumption patterns of audiences, shifting the way the audience is defined and conceptualised. With an increasing distribution of audience attention to multiple channels, products, and services, the ability to, and strategies for, acquiring a large audience has changed (Napoli). As audience attention is distributed, it is broken up, into smaller, fragmented groups. The success, therefore, of a new provider may be to amass a large audience through the aggregation of smaller, niche audiences. This theory has significance for consumers who require audio description because they represent a viable target group. In this context, accessibility is reframed as a commercial opportunity rather than a cost (Ellis, “Netflix Closed Captions”).However, what this means for future provision of audio description in Australia is still unclear. Chris Mikul from Media Access Australia, author of Access on Demand, was interviewed as part of this research. He told us that the complete lack of audio description on local video on demand services can be attributed to the lack of Australian legislation requiring it. In an interview as part of this research he explained the central issue with audio description in this country as “the lack of audio description on broadcast TV, which is shocking in a world context”.International providers fare only slightly better. Robert Kingett established the Accessible Netflix Project in 2013 with the stated aim of advocating for the provision of audio description on Netflix. Netflix, despite a lack of a clear accessibility policy, are seen as being in front in terms of overall accessibility—captions are available for most content. However, the provision of audio description was initially not considered to be of such importance, and Netflix were initially against the idea, citing technical difficulties. Nevertheless, in 2015—shortly after their Australian launch—they did eventually introduce audio description on original programming, describing the access feature as an option customers could choose, “just like choosing the soundtrack in a different language” (Wright). However, despite such successful trials, the issue in the Australian market remains the absence of legislation mandating the provision of audio description in Australia and the other video on demand providers have not introduced audio description to compete with Netflix. As the Netflix example illustrates, both legislation and recognition of people with disability as a key audience demographic will result in a more accessible television environment for this group.Currently, it is debatable as to whether this increasingly competitive market, the shifting perception of audience attraction and retention, and the entry of multiple international video on demand providers, has influenced how accessibility is viewed, both for broadcast television and video on demand. Although there is some evidence for an increasing consideration of people with disability as “valid” consumers—take, for example, the iView audio description trial, or the inclusion of audio description by Netflix—our research indicates accessibility is still inconsistently considered, designed for, and applied by current providers.Survey Response: Key Issues Regarding AccessibilityRespondents were asked to provide an overall impression of video on demand services, and to tell us about their positive and negative experiences. Analysis of 68 extended responses, and the responses provided by the interview participants, identified a lack of availability of accessibility features such as audio description as a key problem. What our results indicate is that while customers with a disability are largely accommodating of the inaccessibility of providers—they use their own assistive technology to access content—they are keenly aware of the provisions that could be made. As one respondent put it:they could do a lot better: talking menus, spoken sub titles, and also spoken messages on screen.However, many expressed low expectations due to the continued absence of audio description on broadcast television:so, the other thing is, my expectations are quite low because of years of not having audio descriptions. I have slightly different expectations to other people.This reflection is important in considering both the shifting expectations regarding video on demand providers but also the need for a clear communication of what features are available so that providers can cater to—and therefore capture—niche markets.The survey identified captioning as the main accessibility problem of video on demand services. However, this may not accurately reflect the need for other accessibility features such as audio description. Rather, it may be indicative that this feature is often the only choice given to consumers. As, Chris Mikul identified, “the only disability being catered for to any great extent is deafness/hearing impairment”. Kingett agreed, noting:people who are deaf and hard of hearing are placed way before the rest because captions are beyond easy and cheap to create now. Please, there’s even companies that people use to crowd source captions so companies don’t have to do it anymore. This all came about because the deaf community has [banded] together … to achieve a cause. I know audio description isn’t as cheap to make as captions but, by these companies’ budgets that’s like dropping a penny.Advocacy and Political WillAs noted above, it has been argued by some that accessibility features that address vision impairments have been neglected. The reason behind this is twofold—the perception that this disability is experienced by a minority of the population and that, because blind people “don’t watch television”, it is not an important accessibility feature. This points towards a need for both disability advocacy and political will by politicians to introduce legislation. As one survey respondent identified, the reality is that, in Australia, neither politicians nor people with vision impairments have yet to address the issue on audio description in an organised or sustained way:we have very little audio described content available in Australia. We don’t have the population of blind people nor the political will by politicians to force providers to provide for us.However, Blind Citizens Australia—the coalition of television audiences with vision impairments who lodged the human rights complaint against the government and the ABC—suggest the tide is turning. Whereas advocates for people with vision impairments have traditionally focused on access to the workforce, the issue of television accessibility is increasingly gaining attention, particularly as a result of international activist efforts and the move towards video on demand (see Ellis and Kent).For example, Kingett’s Accessible Netflix Project in the US is considered one of the most successful accessibility movements towards the introduction of audio description. While its members are predominantly US-based, it does include several Australian members and continues to cover Netflix Australia’s stance on audio description, and be covered by Australian media and organisations (including Media Access Australia and Life Hacker). When Netflix launched in Australia, Kingett encouraged Australians to become more involved in the project (Ellis and Kent).However, despite the progress towards mandating of audio description in parliament and the resolution of efforts made by advocacy groups (including Vision Australia and Blind Citizens Australia), the status of audio description remains uncertain. Whilst some support has been gained—specifically through motions made by Senator Siewert and the ABC iView audio description trials—significant change has been slow. For example, conciliation discussions are still ongoing regarding the now four-year-old complaint brought against the ABC and the Federal Government by Blind Citizens Australia. Meanwhile, although the Senate supported Senator Siewert’s motion to change the Broadcasting Services Act to include audio description, the Act has yet to be amended.The results of multiple ABC trials of audio description remain in discussion. Whilst the recently released report on the findings of the April 2015—July 2016 iView trial states that the “trial has identified that those who utilised the audio description service found it a valuable enhancement to their media engagement and their social interactions” (ABC, “ABC iView Audio Description Trial” 18), it also cautioned that “any move to introduce AD services in Australia would have budgetary implications for the broadcasters in a constrained financial environment” and “broader legislative implications” (ABC, “ABC iView Audio Description Trial” 18). Indeed, although the trial was considered “successful”—in that experiences by users were generally positive and the benefits considerable (Media Access Australia, “New Report”)—the continuation of audio description on iView alone was clarified as representing “a systemic failure to provide people who are blind or have low vision with basic access to television now, given that iView is out of reach for many people in the blindness and low vision community” (Media Access Australia, “New Report”). Indeed, the relatively low numbers of plays of audio described content during the trial (158, 277 plays, representing 0.58% of total program plays on iView) were likely a result of a lack of access to smartphones or Internet technology, prohibitive data speeds and/or general Internet costs, all factors which affect the accessibility of video on demand significantly more for people with disability (Ellis et al., “Access for Everyone?”).On a more positive note, the culmination of advocacy pressure, the ABC iView trial, political attention, and increasing academic literature on the accessibility of Australian media has resulted in the establishment of an Audio Description Working Group by the government. This group consists of industry representatives, advocacy group representatives, academics, and “consumer representatives”. The aims of the group are to: identify options to sustainably increase access to audio description services; identify any impediments to the implementation of audio description; provide expert advice on audio description implementation options; and develop a report on the findings due at the end of 2017.ConclusionIn the absence of audio description, people who are blind or vision impaired report a less satisfying television experience (Cronin and King; Kingett). However, with each technological advancement in the delivery of television, from stereo sound to digital television, this group has held hopes for a more accessible experience. The reality, however, has been a continued lack of audio description, particularly in broadcast television.Several commentators have compared the provision of audio description with closed captioning. They find that audio description is not as widely available, and reflect this is likely a result of lack of legislation (Robare; Ellis, “Digital Television Flexibility”)—for example, in the Australian context, whereas the provision of captions is mandated in the Broadcasting Services Act 1992, audio description is not. As a result, there have been limited trials of audio description in this country and inconsistent standards in how to display it. As discussed throughout this paper, people with vision impairments and their allies therefore often draw on the example of the widespread “acceptance” of captions to make the case that audio description should also be more widely available.However, following the introduction of subscription video on demand in Australia, and particularly Netflix, the issue of audio description is receiving greater attention. It has been argued that video on demand has transformed television, particularly the ways in which television is accessed. Video on demand could also potentially transform the way we think about accessibility for audiences with disability. While captions are a well-established accessibility feature facilitating television access for people with a range of disabilities, video on demand is raising the profile of the importance of audio description for audiences with vision impairments.ReferencesABC. “Audio Description Trial on ABC Television: Report to the Minister for Broadband, Communications and the Digital Economy”. Dec. 2012. 8 Apr. 2017 <https://www.communications.gov.au/sites/g/files/net301/f/ABC-Audio-Description-Trial-Report2.pdf>.ABC. “ABC iView Audio Description Trial: Final Report to The Department of Communications and the Arts.” Oct. 2016. 6 Apr. 2017 <https://www.communications.gov.au/documents/final-report-trial-audio-description-abc-iview>.Alper, Meryl, et al. “Reimagining the Good Life with Disability: Communication, New Technology, and Humane Connections.” Communication and the Good Life. Ed. H. Wang. New York: Peter Lang, 2015.Australian Network on Disability. “Disability Statistics.” Mar. 2017. 30 Apr. 2017 <https://www.and.org.au/pages/disability-statistics.html>.Blind Citizens Australia. Government and ABC Fail to Deliver on Accessible TV for Australia’s Blind. Submission. 10 July 2013. 1 May 2017 <http://bca.org.au/submissions/>.C-Scott, Marc. “The Battle for Audiences as Free-TV Viewing Continues Its Decline.” Mumbrella 22 Apr. 2016. 24 May 2016 <https://mumbrella.com.au/the-battle-for-audiences-as-free-tv-viewing-continues-its-decline-362010>.Carmichael, Alex, et al. “Digital Switchover or Digital Divide: A Prognosis for Useable and Accessible Interactive Digital Television in the UK.” Universal Access in the Information Society 4 (2006): 400–16.Cronin, Barry J., and Sharon Robertson King. “The Development of the Descriptive Video Services.” National Center to Improve Practice in Special Education through Technology, Media and Materials. Sep. 1998. 8 May 2014 <https://www2.edc.org/NCIP/library/v&c/Cronin.htm>.Downey, G. “Constructing Closed-Captioning in the Public Interest: From Minority Media Accessibility to Mainstream Educational Technology.” Info 9.2–3 (2007): 69–82.Ellis, Katie. “Digital Television Flexibility: A Survey of Australians with Disability.” Media International Australia 150 (2014): 96.———. “Netflix Closed Captions Offer an Accessible Model for the Streaming Video Industry, But What about Audio Description?” Communication, Politics & Culture 47.3 (2015).———. “Television’s Transition to the Internet: Disability Accessibility and Broadband-Based TV in Australia.” Media International Australia 153 (2014): 53–63.Ellis, Katie, and Mike Kent. “Accessible Television: The New Frontier in Disability Media Studies Brings Together Industry Innovation, Government Legislation and Online Activism.” First Monday 20 (2015). <http://firstmonday.org/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/6170>.Ellis, Katie, et al. Accessing Subscription Video on Demand: A Study of Disability and Streaming Television in Australia. Australian Communications Consumer Action Network. Aug. 2016. <https://accan.org.au/grants/current-grants/1066-accessing-video-on-demand-a-study-of-disability-and-streaming-television>.Ellis, Katie, et al. “Access for Everyone? Australia’s ‘Streaming Wars’ and Consumers with Disabilities.” Continuum (2017, publication pending).Kingett, Robert. “The Accessible Netflix Project Advocates Taking Steps to Ensure Netflix Accessibility for Everyone.” 2014. 30 Jan. 2014 <https://netflixproject.wordpress.com>.Media Access Australia. “Statistics on DVD Accessibility in Australia.” 2012. 21 Nov. 2014 <https://mediaaccess.org.au/dvds/Statistics%20on%20DVD%20accessibility%20in%20Australia>.———. “New Report on the Trial of A.D. on ABC iView.” 7 Mar. 2017. 30 Apr. 2017 <https://mediaaccess.org.au/latest_news/television/new-report-on-the-trial-of-ad-on-abc-iview>.Napoli, Philip M., ed. Audience Evolution: New Technologies and the Transformation of Media Audiences. New York: Columbia UP, 2011.Robare, Joshua S. “Television for All: Increasing Television Accessibility for the Visually Impaired through the FCC’s Ability to Regulate Video Description Technology.” Federal Communications Law Journal 63.2 (2011): 553–78.Tucker, Harry. “Netflix Leads the Streaming Wars, Followed by Foxtel’s Presto.” News.com.au 24 June 2016. 18 May 2016 <http://www.news.com.au/technology/home-entertainment/tv/netflix-leads-the-streaming-wars-followed-by-foxtels-presto/news-story/7adf45dcd7d9486ff47ec5ea5951287f>.Utray, Francisco, et al. “Monitoring Accessibility Services in Digital Television.” International Journal of Digital Multimedia Broadcasting (2012): 9.

Introduction As social-distancing mandates in response to COVID-19 restricted in-person data collection methods such as participant observation and interviews, researchers turned to socially distant methods such as interviewing via video-conferencing technology (Lobe et al.). These were not new tools nor methods, but the pandemic muted any bias towards face-to-face data collection methods. Exemplified in crowd-sourced documents such as Doing Fieldwork in a Pandemic, researchers were encouraged to pivot to digital methods as a means of fulfilling research objectives, “specifically, ideas for avoiding in-person interactions by using mediated forms that will achieve similar ends” (Lupton). The benefits of digital methods for expanding participant cohorts and scope of research have been touted long before 2020 and COVID-19, and, as noted by Murthy, are “compelling” (“Emergent” 172). Research conducted by digital methods can expect to reap benefits such as “global datasets/respondents” and “new modalities for involving respondents” (Murthy, “Emergent” 172). The pivot to digital methods is not in and of itself an issue. What concerns us is that in the dialogues about shifting to digital methods during COVID-19, there does not yet appear to have been a critical consideration of how participant samples and collected data will be impacted upon or skewed towards recording the experiences of advantaged cohorts. Existing literature focusses on the time-saving benefits for the researcher, reduction of travel costs (Fujii), the minimal costs for users of specific platforms – e.g. Skype –, and presumes ubiquity of device access for participants (Cater). We found no discussion on data costs of accessing such services being potential barriers to participation in research, although Deakin and Wakefield did share our concern that: Online interviews may ... mean that some participants are excluded due to the need to have technological competence required to participate, obtain software and to maintain Internet connection for the duration of the discussion. In this sense, access to certain groups may be a problem and may lead to issues of representativeness. (605) We write this as a provocation to our colleagues conducting research at this time to consider the cultural and material capital of their participants and how that capital enables them to participate in digitally-mediated data gathering practices, or not, and to what extent. Despite highlighting the potential benefits of digital methods within a methodological tool kit, Murthy previously cautioned against the implications posed by digital exclusion, noting that “the drawback of these research options is that membership of these communities is inherently restricted to the digital ‘haves’ ... rather than the ‘have nots’” (“Digital” 845). In this article, we argue that while tools such as Zoom have indeed enabled fieldwork to continue despite COVID disruptions, this shift to online platforms has important and under-acknowledged implications for who is and is not able to participate in research. In making this argument, we draw on examples from the Connected Students project, a study of digital inclusion that commenced just as COVID-19 restrictions came into effect in the Australian state of Victoria at the start of 2020. We draw on the experiences of these households to illustrate the barriers that such cohorts face when participating in online research. We begin by providing details about the Connected Students project and then contextualising it through a discussion of research on digital inclusion. We then outline three areas in which households would have experienced (or still do experience) difficulties participating in online research: data, devices, and skills. We use these findings to highlight the barriers that disadvantaged groups may face when engaging in data collection activities over Zoom and question how this is impacting on who is and is not being included in research during COVID-19. The Connected Students Program The Connected Students program was conducted in Shepparton, a regional city located 180km north of Melbourne. The town itself has a population of around 30,000, while the Greater Shepparton region comprises around 64,000 residents. Shepparton was chosen as the program’s site because it is characterised by a unique combination of low-income and low levels of digital inclusion. First, Shepparton ranks in the lowest interval for the Australian Bureau of Statistics’ Socio-Economic Indexes for Areas (SEIFA) and the Index of Relative Socioeconomic Advantage and Disadvantage (IRSAD), as reported in 2016 (Australian Bureau of Statistics, “Census”; Australian Bureau of Statistics, “Index”). Although Shepparton has a strong agricultural and horticultural industry with a number of food-based manufacturing companies in the area, including fruit canneries, dairies, and food processing plants, the town has high levels of long-term and intergenerational unemployment and jobless families. Second, Shepparton is in a regional area that ranks in the lowest interval for the Australian Digital Inclusion Index (Thomas et al.), which measures digital inclusion across dimensions of access, ability, and affordability. Funded by Telstra, Australia’s largest telecommunications provider, and delivered in partnership with Greater Shepparton Secondary College (GSSC), the Connected Students program provided low-income households with a laptop and an unlimited broadband Internet connection for up to two years. Households were recruited to the project via GSSC. To be eligible, households needed to hold a health care card and have at least one child attending the school in year 10, 11, or 12. Both the student and a caregiver were required to participate in the project to be eligible. Additional household members were invited to take part in the research, but were not required to. (See Kennedy & Holcombe-James; and Kennedy et al., "Connected Students", for further details regarding household demographics.) The Australian Digital Inclusion Index identifies that affordability is a significant barrier to digital inclusion in Australia (Thomas et al.). The project’s objective was to measure how removing affordability barriers to accessing connectivity for households impacts on digital inclusion. By providing participating households with a free unlimited broadband internet connection for the duration of the research, the project removed the costs associated with digital access. Access alone is not enough to resolve the digital exclusion confronted by these low-income households. Digital exclusion in these instances is not derived simply from the cost of Internet access, but from the cost of digital devices. As a result, these households typically lacked sufficient digital devices. Each household was therefore provided both a high speed Internet connection, and a brand new laptop with built-in camera, microphone, and speakers (a standard tool kit for video conferencing). Data collection for the Connected Students project was intended to be conducted face-to-face. We had planned in-person observations including semi-structured interviews with household members conducted at three intervals throughout the project’s duration (beginning, middle, and end), and technology tours of each home to spatially and socially map device locations and uses (Kennedy et al., Digital Domesticity). As we readied to make our first research trip to commence the study, COVID-19 was wreaking havoc. It quickly became apparent we would not be travelling to work, much less travelling around the state. We thus pivoted to digital methods, with all our data collection shifting online to interviews conducted via digital platforms such as Zoom and Microsoft Teams. While the pivot to digital methods saved travel hours, allowing us to scale up the number of households we planned to interview, it also demonstrated unexpected aspects of our participants’ lived experiences of digital exclusion. In this article, we draw on our first round of interviews which were conducted with 35 households over Zoom or Microsoft Teams during lockdown. The practice of conducting these interviews reveals insights into the barriers that households faced to digital research participation. In describing these experiences, we use pseudonyms for individual participants and refer to households using the pseudonym for the student participant from that household. Why Does Digital Inclusion Matter? Digital inclusion is broadly defined as universal access to the technologies necessary to participate in social and civic life (Helsper; Livingstone and Helsper). Although recent years have seen an increase in the number of connected households and devices (Thomas et al., “2020”), digital inclusion remains uneven. As elsewhere, digital disadvantage in the Australian context falls along geographic and socioeconomic lines (Alam and Imran; Atkinson et al.; Blanchard et al.; Rennie et al.). Digitally excluded population groups typically experience some combination of education, employment, income, social, and mental health hardship; their predicament is compounded by a myriad of important services moving online, from utility payments, to social services, to job seeking platforms (Australian Council of Social Service; Chen; Commonwealth Ombudsman). In addition to challenges in using essential services, digitally excluded Australians also miss out on the social and cultural benefits of Internet use (Ragnedda and Ruiu). Digital inclusion – and the affordability of digital access – should thus be a key concern for researchers looking to apply online methods. Households in the lowest income quintile spend 6.2% of their disposable income on telecommunications services, almost three times more than wealthier households (Ogle). Those in the lowest income quintile pay a “poverty premium” for their data, almost five times more per unit of data than those in the highest income quintile (Ogle and Musolino). As evidenced by the Australian Digital Inclusion Index, this is driven in part by a higher reliance on mobile-only access (Thomas et al., “2020”). Low-income households are more likely to access critical education, business, and government services through mobile data rather than fixed broadband data (Thomas et al., “2020”). For low-income households, digital participation is the top expense after housing, food, and transport, and is higher than domestic energy costs (Ogle). In the pursuit of responsible and ethical research, we caution against assuming research participants are able to bear the brunt of access costs in terms of having a suitable device, expending their own data resources, and having adequate skills to be able to complete the activity without undue stress. We draw examples from the Connected Students project to support this argument below. Findings: Barriers to Research Participation for Digitally Excluded Households If the Connected Students program had not provided participating households with a technology kit, their preexisting conditions of digital exclusion would have limited their research participation in three key ways. First, households with limited Internet access (particularly those reliant on mobile-only connectivity, and who have a few gigabytes of data per month) would have struggled to provide the data needed for video conferencing. Second, households would have struggled to participate due to a lack of adequate devices. Third, and critically, although the Connected Students technology kit provided households with the data and devices required to participate in the digital ethnography, this did not necessarily resolve the skills gaps that our households confronted. Data Prior to receiving the Connected Students technology kit, many households in our sample had limited modes of connectivity and access to data. For households with comparatively less or lower quality access to data, digital participation – whether for the research discussed here, or in contemporary life – came with very real costs. This was especially the case for households that did not have a home Internet connection and instead relied solely on mobile data. For these households, who carefully managed their data to avoid running out, participating in research through extended video conferences would have been impossible unless adequate financial reimbursement was offered. Households with very limited Internet access used a range of practices to manage and extend their data access by shifting internet costs away from the household budget. This often involved making use of free public Wi-Fi or library internet services. Ellie’s household, for instance, spent their weekends at the public library so that she and her sister could complete their homework. While laborious, these strategies worked well for the families in everyday life. However, they would have been highly unsuitable for participating in research, particularly during the pandemic. On the most obvious level, the expectations of library use – if not silent, then certainly quiet – would have prohibited a successful interview. Further, during COVID-19 lockdowns, public libraries (and other places that provide public Internet) became inaccessible for significant periods of time. Lastly, for some research designs, the location of participants is important even when participation is occurring online. In the case of our own project, the house itself as the site of the interview was critical as our research sought to understand how the layout and materiality of the home impacts on experiences of digital inclusion. We asked participants to guide us around their home, showing where technologies and social activities are colocated. In using the data provided by the Connected Students technology kit, households with limited Internet were able to conduct interviews within their households. For these families, participating in online research would have been near impossible without the Connected Students Internet. Devices Even with adequate Internet connections, many households would have struggled to participate due to a lack of suitable devices. Laptops, which generally provide the best video conferencing experience, were seen as prohibitively expensive for many families. As a result, many families did not have a laptop or were making do with a laptop that was excessively slow, unreliable, and/or had very limited functions. Desktop computers were rare and generally outdated to the extent that they were not able to support video conferencing. One parent, Melissa, described their barely-functioning desktop as “like part of the furniture more than a computer”. Had the Connected Students program not provided a new laptop with video and audio capabilities, participation in video interviews would have been difficult. This is highlighted by the challenges students in these households faced in completing online schooling prior to receiving the Connected Students kit. A participating student, Mallory, for example, explained she had previously not had a laptop, reliant only on her phone and an old iPad: Interviewer: Were you able to do all your homework on those, or was it sometimes tricky?Mallory: Sometimes it was tricky, especially if they wanted to do a call or something ... . Then it got a bit hard because then I would use up all my data, and then didn’t have much left.Interviewer: Yeah. Right.Julia (Parent): ... But as far as schoolwork, it’s hard to do everything on an iPad. A laptop or a computer is obviously easier to manoeuvre around for different things. This example raises several common issues that would likely present barriers to research participation. First, Mallory’s household did not have a laptop before being provided with one through the Connected Students program. Second, while her household did prioritise purchasing tablets and smartphones, which could be used for video conferencing, these were more difficult to navigate for certain tasks and used up mobile data which, as noted above, was often a limited resource. Lastly, it is worth noting that in households which did already own a functioning laptop, it was often shared between several household members. As one parent, Vanessa, noted, “yeah, until we got the [Connected Students] devices, we had one laptop between the four of us that are here. And Noel had the majority use of that because that was his school work took priority”. This lack of individuated access to a device would make participation in some research designs difficult, particularly those that rely on regular access to a suitable device. Skills Despite the Connected Students program’s provision of data and device access, this did not ensure successful research participation. Many households struggled to engage with video research interviews due to insufficient digital skills. While a household with Internet connectivity might be considered on the “right” side of the digital divide, connectivity alone does not ensure participation. People also need to have the knowledge and skills required to use online resources. Brianna’s household, for example, had downloaded Microsoft Teams to their desktop computer in readiness for the interview, but had neglected to consider whether that device had video or audio capabilities. To work around this restriction, the household decided to complete the interview via the Connected Students laptop, but this too proved difficult. Neither Brianna nor her parents were confident in transferring the link to the interview between devices, whether by email or otherwise, requiring the researchers to talk them through the steps required to log on, find, and send the link via email. While Brianna’s household faced digital skills challenges that affected both parent and student participants, in others such as Ariel’s, these challenges were focussed at the parental level. In these instances, the student participant provided a vital resource, helping adults navigate platforms and participate in the research. As Celeste, Ariel’s parent, explained, it's just new things that I get a bit – like, even on here, because your email had come through to me and I said to Ariel "We're going to use your computer with Teams. How do we do this?" So, yeah, worked it out. I just had to look up my email address, but I [initially thought] oh, my god; what am I supposed to do here? Although helpful in our own research given its focus on school-aged young people, this dynamic of parents being helped by their dependents illustrates that the adults in our sample were often unfamiliar with the digital skills required for video conferencing. Research focussing only on adults, or on households in which students have not developed these skills through extended periods of online education such as occurred during the COVID-19 lockdowns, may find participants lacking the digital skills to participate in video interviews. Participation was also impacted upon by participants' lack of more subtle digital skills around the norms and conventions of video conferencing. Several households, for example, conducted their interviews in less ideal situations, such as from both moving and parked cars. A portion of the household interview with Piper’s household was completed as they drove the 30 minutes from their home into Shepperton. Due to living out of town, this household often experienced poor reception. The interview was thus regularly disrupted as they dropped in and out of range, with the interview transcript peppered with interjections such as “we’re going through a bit of an Internet light spot ... we’re back ... sorry ...” (Karina, parent). Finally, Piper switched the device on which they were taking the interview to gain a better connection: “my iPad that we were meeting on has worse Internet than my phone Internet, so we kind of changed it around” (Karina). Choosing to participate in the research from locations other than the home provides evidence of the limited time available to these families, and the onerousness of research participation. These choices also indicate unfamiliarity with video conferencing norms. As digitally excluded households, these participants were likely not the target of popular discussions throughout the pandemic about optimising video conferences through careful consideration of lighting, background, make-up and positioning (e.g. Lasky; Niven-Phillips). This was often identified by how participants positioned themselves in front of the camera, often choosing not to sit squarely within the camera lens. Sometimes this was because several household members were participating and struggled to all sit within view of the single device, but awkward camera positioning also occurred with only one or two people present. A number of interviews were initially conducted with shoulders, or foreheads, or ceilings rather than “whole” participants until we asked them to reposition the device so that the camera was pointing towards their faces. In noting this unfamiliarity we do not seek to criticise or apportion responsibility for accruing such skills to participating households, but rather to highlight the impact this had on the type of conversation between researcher and participant. Such practices offer valuable insight into how digital exclusion impacts on individual’s everyday lives as well as on their research participation. Conclusion Throughout the pandemic, digital methods such as video conferencing have been invaluable for researchers. However, while these methods have enabled fieldwork to continue despite COVID-19 disruptions, the shift to online platforms has important and under-acknowledged implications for who is and is not able to participate in research. In this article, we have drawn on our research with low-income households to demonstrate the barriers that such cohorts experience when participating in online research. Without the technology kits provided as part of our research design, these households would have struggled to participate due to a lack of adequate data and devices. Further, even with the kits provided, households faced additional barriers due to a lack of digital literacy. These experiences raise a number of questions that we encourage researchers to consider when designing methods that avoid in person interactions, and when reviewing studies that use similar approaches: who doesn’t have the technological access needed to participate in digital and online research? What are the implications of this for who and what is most visible in research conducted during the pandemic? Beyond questions of access, to what extent will disadvantaged populations not volunteer to participate in online research because of discomfort or unfamiliarity with digital tools and norms? When low-income participants are included, how can researchers ensure that participation does not unduly burden them by using up precious data resources? And, how can researchers facilitate positive and meaningful participation among those who might be less comfortable interacting through mediums like video conferencing? In raising these questions we acknowledge that not all research will or should be focussed on engaging with disadvantaged cohorts. Rather, our point is that through asking questions such as this, we will be better able to reflect on how data and participant samples are being impacted upon by shifts to digital methods during COVID-19 and beyond. As researchers, we may not always be able to adapt Zoom-based methods to be fully inclusive, but we can acknowledge this as a limitation and keep it in mind when reporting our findings, and later when engaging with the research that was largely conducted online during the pandemic. Lastly, while the Connected Students project focusses on impacts of affordability on digital inclusion, digital disadvantage intersects with many other forms of disadvantage. Thus, while our study focussed specifically on financial disadvantage, our call to be aware of who is and is not able to participate in Zoom-based research applies to digital exclusion more broadly, whatever its cause. Acknowledgements The Connected Students project was funded by Telstra. This research was also supported under the Australian Research Council's Discovery Early Career Researchers Award funding scheme (project number DE200100540). References Alam, Khorshed, and Sophia Imran. “The Digital Divide and Social Inclusion among Refugee Migrants: A Case in Regional Australia.” Information Technology & People 28.2 (2015): 344–65. Atkinson, John, Rosemary Black, and Allan Curtis. “Exploring the Digital Divide in an Australian Regional City: A Case Study of Albury”. Australian Geographer 39.4 (2008): 479–493. Australian Bureau of Statistics. “Census of Population and Housing: Socio-Economic Indexes for Areas (SEIFA), Australia, 2016.” 2016. <https://www.abs.gov.au/ausstats/abs@.nsf/Lookup/by%20Subject/2033.0.55.001~2016~Main%20Features~SOCIO-ECONOMIC%20INDEXES%20FOR%20AREAS%20(SEIFA)%202016~1>. ———. “Index of Relative Socio-Economic Advantage and Disadvantage (IRSAD).” 2016. <https://www.abs.gov.au/ausstats/abs@.nsf/Lookup/by%20Subject/2033.0.55.001~2016~Main%20Features~IRSAD~20>. Australian Council of Social Service. “The Future of Parents Next: Submission to Senate Community Affairs Committee.” 8 Feb. 2019. <http://web.archive.org/web/20200612014954/https://www.acoss.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/ACOSS-submission-into-Parents-Next_FINAL.pdf>. Beer, David. “The Social Power of Algorithms.” Information, Communication & Society 20.1 (2017): 1–13. Blanchard, Michelle, et al. “Rethinking the Digital Divide: Findings from a Study of Marginalised Young People’s Information Communication Technology (ICT) Use.” Youth Studies Australia 27.4 (2008): 35–42. Cater, Janet. “Skype: A Cost Effective Method for Qualitative Research.” Rehabilitation Counselors and Educators Journal 4.2 (2011): 10-17. Chen, Jesse. “Breaking Down Barriers to Digital Government: How Can We Enable Vulnerable Consumers to Have Equal Participation in Digital Government?” Sydney: Australian Communications Consumer Action Network, 2017. <http://web.archive.org/web/20200612015130/https://accan.org.au/Breaking%20Down%20Barriers%20to%20Digital%20Government.pdf>. Commonwealth Ombudsman. “Centrelink’s Automated Debt Raising and Recovery System: Implementation Report, Report No. 012019.” Commonwealth Ombudsman, 2019. <http://web.archive.org/web/20200612015307/https://www.ombudsman.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0025/98314/April-2019-Centrelinks-Automated-Debt-Raising-and-Recovery-System.pdf>. Deakin Hannah, and Kelly Wakefield. “Skype Interviewing: Reflections of Two PhD Researchers.” Qualitative Research 14.5 (2014): 603-616. Fujii, LeeAnn. Interviewing in Social Science Research: A Relational Approach. Routledge, 2018. Helsper, Ellen. “Digital Inclusion: An Analysis of Social Disadvantage and the Information Society.” London: Department for Communities and Local Government, 2008. Kennedy, Jenny, and Indigo Holcombe-James. “Connected Students Milestone Report 1: Project Commencement". Melbourne: RMIT, 2021. <https://apo.org.au/node/312817>. Kennedy, Jenny, et al. “Connected Students Milestone Report 2: Findings from First Round of Interviews". Melbourne: RMIT, 2021. <https://apo.org.au/node/312818>. Kennedy, Jenny, et al. Digital Domesticity: Media, Materiality, and Home Life. Oxford UP, 2020. Lasky, Julie. “How to Look Your Best on a Webcam.” New York Times, 25 Mar. 2020 <http://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/25/realestate/coronavirus-webcam-appearance.html>. Livingstone, Sonia, and Ellen Helsper. “Gradations in Digital Inclusion: Children, Young People and the Digital Divide.” New Media & Society 9.4 (2007): 671–696. Lobe, Bojana, David L. Morgan, and Kim A. Hoffman. “Qualitative Data Collection in an Era of Social Distancing.” International Journal of Qualitative Methods 19 (2020): 1–8. Lupton, Deborah. “Doing Fieldwork in a Pandemic (Crowd-Sourced Document).” 2020. <http://docs.google.com/document/d/1clGjGABB2h2qbduTgfqribHmog9B6P0NvMgVuiHZCl8/edit?ts=5e88ae0a#>. Murthy, Dhiraj. “Digital Ethnography: An Examination of the Use of New Technologies for Social Research”. Sociology 42.2 (2008): 837–855. ———. “Emergent Digital Ethnographic Methods for Social Research.” Handbook of Emergent Technologies in Social Research. Ed. Sharlene Nagy Hesse-Biber. Oxford UP, 2011. 158–179. Niven-Phillips, Lisa. “‘Virtual Meetings Aren’t Going Anywhere Soon’: How to Put Your Best Zoom Face Forward.” The Guardian, 27 Mar. 2021. <http://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2021/mar/27/virtual-meetings-arent-going-anywhere-soon-how-to-put-your-best-zoom-face-forward>. Ogle, Greg. “Telecommunications Expenditure in Australia: Fact Sheet.” Sydney: Australian Communications Consumer Action Network, 2017. <https://web.archive.org/web/20200612043803/https://accan.org.au/files/Reports/ACCAN_SACOSS%20Telecommunications%20Expenditure_web_v2.pdf>. Ogle, Greg, and Vanessa Musolino. “Connectivity Costs: Telecommunications Affordability for Low Income Australians.” Sydney: Australian Communications Consumer Action Network, 2016. <https://web.archive.org/web/20200612043944/https://accan.org.au/files/Reports/161011_Connectivity%20Costs_accessible-web.pdf>. Ragnedda, Massimo, and Maria Laura Ruiu. “Social Capital and the Three Levels of Digital Divide.” Theorizing Digital Divides. Eds. Massimo Ragnedda and Glenn Muschert. Routledge, 2017. 21–34. Rennie, Ellie, et al. “At Home on the Outstation: Barriers to Home Internet in Remote Indigenous Communities.” Telecommunications Policy 37.6 (2013): 583–93. Taylor, Linnet. “What Is Data Justice? The Case for Connecting Digital Rights and Freedoms Globally. Big Data & Society 4.2 (2017): 1–14. Thomas, Julian, et al. Measuring Australia’s Digital Divide: The Australian Digital Inclusion Index 2018. Melbourne: RMIT University, for Telstra, 2018. ———. Measuring Australia’s Digital Divide: The Australian Digital Inclusion Index 2019. Melbourne: RMIT University and Swinburne University of Technology, for Telstra, 2019. ———. Measuring Australia’s Digital Divide: The Australian Digital Inclusion Index 2020. Melbourne: RMIT University and Swinburne University of Technology, for Telstra, 2020. Zuboff, Shoshana. “Big Other: Surveillance Capitalism and the Prospects of an Information Civilization. Journal of Information Technology 30 (2015): 75–89.

Photo ID 158378414 © Eduard Muzhevskyi | Dreamstime.com ABSTRACT There is a debate about the ethical implications of using human embryos in stem cell research, which can be influenced by cultural, moral, and social values. This paper argues for an adaptable framework to accommodate diverse cultural and religious perspectives. By using an adaptive ethics model, research protections can reflect various populations and foster growth in stem cell research possibilities. INTRODUCTION Stem cell research combines biology, medicine, and technology, promising to alter health care and the understanding of human development. Yet, ethical contention exists because of individuals’ perceptions of using human embryos based on their various cultural, moral, and social values. While these disagreements concerning policy, use, and general acceptance have prompted the development of an international ethics policy, such a uniform approach can overlook the nuanced ethical landscapes between cultures. With diverse viewpoints in public health, a single global policy, especially one reflecting Western ethics or the ethics prevalent in high-income countries, is impractical. This paper argues for a culturally sensitive, adaptable framework for the use of embryonic stem cells. Stem cell policy should accommodate varying ethical viewpoints and promote an effective global dialogue. With an extension of an ethics model that can adapt to various cultures, we recommend localized guidelines that reflect the moral views of the people those guidelines serve. BACKGROUND Stem cells, characterized by their unique ability to differentiate into various cell types, enable the repair or replacement of damaged tissues. Two primary types of stem cells are somatic stem cells (adult stem cells) and embryonic stem cells. Adult stem cells exist in developed tissues and maintain the body’s repair processes.[1] Embryonic stem cells (ESC) are remarkably pluripotent or versatile, making them valuable in research.[2] However, the use of ESCs has sparked ethics debates. Considering the potential of embryonic stem cells, research guidelines are essential. The International Society for Stem Cell Research (ISSCR) provides international stem cell research guidelines. They call for “public conversations touching on the scientific significance as well as the societal and ethical issues raised by ESC research.”[3] The ISSCR also publishes updates about culturing human embryos 14 days post fertilization, suggesting local policies and regulations should continue to evolve as ESC research develops.[4] Like the ISSCR, which calls for local law and policy to adapt to developing stem cell research given cultural acceptance, this paper highlights the importance of local social factors such as religion and culture. I. Global Cultural Perspective of Embryonic Stem Cells Views on ESCs vary throughout the world. Some countries readily embrace stem cell research and therapies, while others have stricter regulations due to ethical concerns surrounding embryonic stem cells and when an embryo becomes entitled to moral consideration. The philosophical issue of when the “someone” begins to be a human after fertilization, in the morally relevant sense,[5] impacts when an embryo becomes not just worthy of protection but morally entitled to it. The process of creating embryonic stem cell lines involves the destruction of the embryos for research.[6] Consequently, global engagement in ESC research depends on social-cultural acceptability. a. US and Rights-Based Cultures In the United States, attitudes toward stem cell therapies are diverse. The ethics and social approaches, which value individualism,[7] trigger debates regarding the destruction of human embryos, creating a complex regulatory environment. For example, the 1996 Dickey-Wicker Amendment prohibited federal funding for the creation of embryos for research and the destruction of embryos for “more than allowed for research on fetuses in utero.”[8] Following suit, in 2001, the Bush Administration heavily restricted stem cell lines for research. However, the Stem Cell Research Enhancement Act of 2005 was proposed to help develop ESC research but was ultimately vetoed.[9] Under the Obama administration, in 2009, an executive order lifted restrictions allowing for more development in this field.[10] The flux of research capacity and funding parallels the different cultural perceptions of human dignity of the embryo and how it is socially presented within the country’s research culture.[11] b. Ubuntu and Collective Cultures African bioethics differs from Western individualism because of the different traditions and values. African traditions, as described by individuals from South Africa and supported by some studies in other African countries, including Ghana and Kenya, follow the African moral philosophies of Ubuntu or Botho and Ukama, which “advocates for a form of wholeness that comes through one’s relationship and connectedness with other people in the society,”[12] making autonomy a socially collective concept. In this context, for the community to act autonomously, individuals would come together to decide what is best for the collective. Thus, stem cell research would require examining the value of the research to society as a whole and the use of the embryos as a collective societal resource. If society views the source as part of the collective whole, and opposes using stem cells, compromising the cultural values to pursue research may cause social detachment and stunt research growth.[13] Based on local culture and moral philosophy, the permissibility of stem cell research depends on how embryo, stem cell, and cell line therapies relate to the community as a whole. Ubuntu is the expression of humanness, with the person’s identity drawn from the “’I am because we are’” value.[14] The decision in a collectivistic culture becomes one born of cultural context, and individual decisions give deference to others in the society. Consent differs in cultures where thought and moral philosophy are based on a collective paradigm. So, applying Western bioethical concepts is unrealistic. For one, Africa is a diverse continent with many countries with different belief systems, access to health care, and reliance on traditional or Western medicines. Where traditional medicine is the primary treatment, the “’restrictive focus on biomedically-related bioethics’” [is] problematic in African contexts because it neglects bioethical issues raised by traditional systems.”[15] No single approach applies in all areas or contexts. Rather than evaluating the permissibility of ESC research according to Western concepts such as the four principles approach, different ethics approaches should prevail. Another consideration is the socio-economic standing of countries. In parts of South Africa, researchers have not focused heavily on contributing to the stem cell discourse, either because it is not considered health care or a health science priority or because resources are unavailable.[16] Each country’s priorities differ given different social, political, and economic factors. In South Africa, for instance, areas such as maternal mortality, non-communicable diseases, telemedicine, and the strength of health systems need improvement and require more focus[17] Stem cell research could benefit the population, but it also could divert resources from basic medical care. Researchers in South Africa adhere to the National Health Act and Medicines Control Act in South Africa and international guidelines; however, the Act is not strictly enforced, and there is no clear legislation for research conduct or ethical guidelines.[18] Some parts of Africa condemn stem cell research. For example, 98.2 percent of the Tunisian population is Muslim.[19] Tunisia does not permit stem cell research because of moral conflict with a Fatwa. Religion heavily saturates the regulation and direction of research.[20] Stem cell use became permissible for reproductive purposes only recently, with tight restrictions preventing cells from being used in any research other than procedures concerning ART/IVF. Their use is conditioned on consent, and available only to married couples.[21] The community's receptiveness to stem cell research depends on including communitarian African ethics. c. Asia Some Asian countries also have a collective model of ethics and decision making.[22] In China, the ethics model promotes a sincere respect for life or human dignity,[23] based on protective medicine. This model, influenced by Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), [24] recognizes Qi as the vital energy delivered via the meridians of the body; it connects illness to body systems, the body’s entire constitution, and the universe for a holistic bond of nature, health, and quality of life.[25] Following a protective ethics model, and traditional customs of wholeness, investment in stem cell research is heavily desired for its applications in regenerative therapies, disease modeling, and protective medicines. In a survey of medical students and healthcare practitioners, 30.8 percent considered stem cell research morally unacceptable while 63.5 percent accepted medical research using human embryonic stem cells. Of these individuals, 89.9 percent supported increased funding for stem cell research.[26] The scientific community might not reflect the overall population. From 1997 to 2019, China spent a total of $576 million (USD) on stem cell research at 8,050 stem cell programs, increased published presence from 0.6 percent to 14.01 percent of total global stem cell publications as of 2014, and made significant strides in cell-based therapies for various medical conditions.[27] However, while China has made substantial investments in stem cell research and achieved notable progress in clinical applications, concerns linger regarding ethical oversight and transparency.[28] For example, the China Biosecurity Law, promoted by the National Health Commission and China Hospital Association, attempted to mitigate risks by introducing an institutional review board (IRB) in the regulatory bodies. 5800 IRBs registered with the Chinese Clinical Trial Registry since 2021.[29] However, issues still need to be addressed in implementing effective IRB review and approval procedures. The substantial government funding and focus on scientific advancement have sometimes overshadowed considerations of regional cultures, ethnic minorities, and individual perspectives, particularly evident during the one-child policy era. As government policy adapts to promote public stability, such as the change from the one-child to the two-child policy,[30] research ethics should also adapt to ensure respect for the values of its represented peoples. Japan is also relatively supportive of stem cell research and therapies. Japan has a more transparent regulatory framework, allowing for faster approval of regenerative medicine products, which has led to several advanced clinical trials and therapies.[31] South Korea is also actively engaged in stem cell research and has a history of breakthroughs in cloning and embryonic stem cells.[32] However, the field is controversial, and there are issues of scientific integrity. For example, the Korean FDA fast-tracked products for approval,[33] and in another instance, the oocyte source was unclear and possibly violated ethical standards.[34] Trust is important in research, as it builds collaborative foundations between colleagues, trial participant comfort, open-mindedness for complicated and sensitive discussions, and supports regulatory procedures for stakeholders. There is a need to respect the culture’s interest, engagement, and for research and clinical trials to be transparent and have ethical oversight to promote global research discourse and trust. d. Middle East Countries in the Middle East have varying degrees of acceptance of or restrictions to policies related to using embryonic stem cells due to cultural and religious influences. Saudi Arabia has made significant contributions to stem cell research, and conducts research based on international guidelines for ethical conduct and under strict adherence to guidelines in accordance with Islamic principles. Specifically, the Saudi government and people require ESC research to adhere to Sharia law. In addition to umbilical and placental stem cells,[35] Saudi Arabia permits the use of embryonic stem cells as long as they come from miscarriages, therapeutic abortions permissible by Sharia law, or are left over from in vitro fertilization and donated to research.[36] Laws and ethical guidelines for stem cell research allow the development of research institutions such as the King Abdullah International Medical Research Center, which has a cord blood bank and a stem cell registry with nearly 10,000 donors.[37] Such volume and acceptance are due to the ethical ‘permissibility’ of the donor sources, which do not conflict with religious pillars. However, some researchers err on the side of caution, choosing not to use embryos or fetal tissue as they feel it is unethical to do so.[38] Jordan has a positive research ethics culture.[39] However, there is a significant issue of lack of trust in researchers, with 45.23 percent (38.66 percent agreeing and 6.57 percent strongly agreeing) of Jordanians holding a low level of trust in researchers, compared to 81.34 percent of Jordanians agreeing that they feel safe to participate in a research trial.[40] Safety testifies to the feeling of confidence that adequate measures are in place to protect participants from harm, whereas trust in researchers could represent the confidence in researchers to act in the participants’ best interests, adhere to ethical guidelines, provide accurate information, and respect participants’ rights and dignity. One method to improve trust would be to address communication issues relevant to ESC. Legislation surrounding stem cell research has adopted specific language, especially concerning clarification “between ‘stem cells’ and ‘embryonic stem cells’” in translation.[41] Furthermore, legislation “mandates the creation of a national committee… laying out specific regulations for stem-cell banking in accordance with international standards.”[42] This broad regulation opens the door for future global engagement and maintains transparency. However, these regulations may also constrain the influence of research direction, pace, and accessibility of research outcomes. e. Europe In the European Union (EU), ethics is also principle-based, but the principles of autonomy, dignity, integrity, and vulnerability are interconnected.[43] As such, the opportunity for cohesion and concessions between individuals’ thoughts and ideals allows for a more adaptable ethics model due to the flexible principles that relate to the human experience The EU has put forth a framework in its Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Dignity of the Human Being allowing member states to take different approaches. Each European state applies these principles to its specific conventions, leading to or reflecting different acceptance levels of stem cell research. [44] For example, in Germany, Lebenzusammenhang, or the coherence of life, references integrity in the unity of human culture. Namely, the personal sphere “should not be subject to external intervention.”[45] Stem cell interventions could affect this concept of bodily completeness, leading to heavy restrictions. Under the Grundgesetz, human dignity and the right to life with physical integrity are paramount.[46] The Embryo Protection Act of 1991 made producing cell lines illegal. Cell lines can be imported if approved by the Central Ethics Commission for Stem Cell Research only if they were derived before May 2007.[47] Stem cell research respects the integrity of life for the embryo with heavy specifications and intense oversight. This is vastly different in Finland, where the regulatory bodies find research more permissible in IVF excess, but only up to 14 days after fertilization.[48] Spain’s approach differs still, with a comprehensive regulatory framework.[49] Thus, research regulation can be culture-specific due to variations in applied principles. Diverse cultures call for various approaches to ethical permissibility.[50] Only an adaptive-deliberative model can address the cultural constructions of self and achieve positive, culturally sensitive stem cell research practices.[51] II. Religious Perspectives on ESC Embryonic stem cell sources are the main consideration within religious contexts. While individuals may not regard their own religious texts as authoritative or factual, religion can shape their foundations or perspectives. The Qur'an states: “And indeed We created man from a quintessence of clay. Then We placed within him a small quantity of nutfa (sperm to fertilize) in a safe place. Then We have fashioned the nutfa into an ‘alaqa (clinging clot or cell cluster), then We developed the ‘alaqa into mudgha (a lump of flesh), and We made mudgha into bones, and clothed the bones with flesh, then We brought it into being as a new creation. So Blessed is Allah, the Best of Creators.”[52] Many scholars of Islam estimate the time of soul installment, marked by the angel breathing in the soul to bring the individual into creation, as 120 days from conception.[53] Personhood begins at this point, and the value of life would prohibit research or experimentation that could harm the individual. If the fetus is more than 120 days old, the time ensoulment is interpreted to occur according to Islamic law, abortion is no longer permissible.[54] There are a few opposing opinions about early embryos in Islamic traditions. According to some Islamic theologians, there is no ensoulment of the early embryo, which is the source of stem cells for ESC research.[55] In Buddhism, the stance on stem cell research is not settled. The main tenets, the prohibition against harming or destroying others (ahimsa) and the pursuit of knowledge (prajña) and compassion (karuna), leave Buddhist scholars and communities divided.[56] Some scholars argue stem cell research is in accordance with the Buddhist tenet of seeking knowledge and ending human suffering. Others feel it violates the principle of not harming others. Finding the balance between these two points relies on the karmic burden of Buddhist morality. In trying to prevent ahimsa towards the embryo, Buddhist scholars suggest that to comply with Buddhist tenets, research cannot be done as the embryo has personhood at the moment of conception and would reincarnate immediately, harming the individual's ability to build their karmic burden.[57] On the other hand, the Bodhisattvas, those considered to be on the path to enlightenment or Nirvana, have given organs and flesh to others to help alleviate grieving and to benefit all.[58] Acceptance varies on applied beliefs and interpretations. Catholicism does not support embryonic stem cell research, as it entails creation or destruction of human embryos. This destruction conflicts with the belief in the sanctity of life. For example, in the Old Testament, Genesis describes humanity as being created in God’s image and multiplying on the Earth, referencing the sacred rights to human conception and the purpose of development and life. In the Ten Commandments, the tenet that one should not kill has numerous interpretations where killing could mean murder or shedding of the sanctity of life, demonstrating the high value of human personhood. In other books, the theological conception of when life begins is interpreted as in utero,[59] highlighting the inviolability of life and its formation in vivo to make a religious point for accepting such research as relatively limited, if at all.[60] The Vatican has released ethical directives to help apply a theological basis to modern-day conflicts. The Magisterium of the Church states that “unless there is a moral certainty of not causing harm,” experimentation on fetuses, fertilized cells, stem cells, or embryos constitutes a crime.[61] Such procedures would not respect the human person who exists at these stages, according to Catholicism. Damages to the embryo are considered gravely immoral and illicit.[62] Although the Catholic Church officially opposes abortion, surveys demonstrate that many Catholic people hold pro-choice views, whether due to the context of conception, stage of pregnancy, threat to the mother’s life, or for other reasons, demonstrating that practicing members can also accept some but not all tenets.[63] Some major Jewish denominations, such as the Reform, Conservative, and Reconstructionist movements, are open to supporting ESC use or research as long as it is for saving a life.[64] Within Judaism, the Talmud, or study, gives personhood to the child at birth and emphasizes that life does not begin at conception:[65] “If she is found pregnant, until the fortieth day it is mere fluid,”[66] Whereas most religions prioritize the status of human embryos, the Halakah (Jewish religious law) states that to save one life, most other religious laws can be ignored because it is in pursuit of preservation.[67] Stem cell research is accepted due to application of these religious laws. We recognize that all religions contain subsets and sects. The variety of environmental and cultural differences within religious groups requires further analysis to respect the flexibility of religious thoughts and practices. We make no presumptions that all cultures require notions of autonomy or morality as under the common morality theory, which asserts a set of universal moral norms that all individuals share provides moral reasoning and guides ethical decisions.[68] We only wish to show that the interaction with morality varies between cultures and countries. III. A Flexible Ethical Approach The plurality of different moral approaches described above demonstrates that there can be no universally acceptable uniform law for ESC on a global scale. Instead of developing one standard, flexible ethical applications must be continued. We recommend local guidelines that incorporate important cultural and ethical priorities. While the Declaration of Helsinki is more relevant to people in clinical trials receiving ESC products, in keeping with the tradition of protections for research subjects, consent of the donor is an ethical requirement for ESC donation in many jurisdictions including the US, Canada, and Europe.[69] The Declaration of Helsinki provides a reference point for regulatory standards and could potentially be used as a universal baseline for obtaining consent prior to gamete or embryo donation. For instance, in Columbia University’s egg donor program for stem cell research, donors followed standard screening protocols and “underwent counseling sessions that included information as to the purpose of oocyte donation for research, what the oocytes would be used for, the risks and benefits of donation, and process of oocyte stimulation” to ensure transparency for consent.[70] The program helped advance stem cell research and provided clear and safe research methods with paid participants. Though paid participation or covering costs of incidental expenses may not be socially acceptable in every culture or context,[71] and creating embryos for ESC research is illegal in many jurisdictions, Columbia’s program was effective because of the clear and honest communications with donors, IRBs, and related stakeholders. This example demonstrates that cultural acceptance of scientific research and of the idea that an egg or embryo does not have personhood is likely behind societal acceptance of donating eggs for ESC research. As noted, many countries do not permit the creation of embryos for research. Proper communication and education regarding the process and purpose of stem cell research may bolster comprehension and garner more acceptance. “Given the sensitive subject material, a complete consent process can support voluntary participation through trust, understanding, and ethical norms from the cultures and morals participants value. This can be hard for researchers entering countries of different socioeconomic stability, with different languages and different societal values.[72] An adequate moral foundation in medical ethics is derived from the cultural and religious basis that informs knowledge and actions.[73] Understanding local cultural and religious values and their impact on research could help researchers develop humility and promote inclusion. IV. Concerns Some may argue that if researchers all adhere to one ethics standard, protection will be satisfied across all borders, and the global public will trust researchers. However, defining what needs to be protected and how to define such research standards is very specific to the people to which standards are applied. We suggest that applying one uniform guide cannot accurately protect each individual because we all possess our own perceptions and interpretations of social values.[74] Therefore, the issue of not adjusting to the moral pluralism between peoples in applying one standard of ethics can be resolved by building out ethics models that can be adapted to different cultures and religions. Other concerns include medical tourism, which may promote health inequities.[75] Some countries may develop and approve products derived from ESC research before others, compromising research ethics or drug approval processes. There are also concerns about the sale of unauthorized stem cell treatments, for example, those without FDA approval in the United States. Countries with robust research infrastructures may be tempted to attract medical tourists, and some customers will have false hopes based on aggressive publicity of unproven treatments.[76] For example, in China, stem cell clinics can market to foreign clients who are not protected under the regulatory regimes. Companies employ a marketing strategy of “ethically friendly” therapies. Specifically, in the case of Beike, China’s leading stem cell tourism company and sprouting network, ethical oversight of administrators or health bureaus at one site has “the unintended consequence of shifting questionable activities to another node in Beike's diffuse network.”[77] In contrast, Jordan is aware of stem cell research’s potential abuse and its own status as a “health-care hub.” Jordan’s expanded regulations include preserving the interests of individuals in clinical trials and banning private companies from ESC research to preserve transparency and the integrity of research practices.[78] The social priorities of the community are also a concern. The ISSCR explicitly states that guidelines “should be periodically revised to accommodate scientific advances, new challenges, and evolving social priorities.”[79] The adaptable ethics model extends this consideration further by addressing whether research is warranted given the varying degrees of socioeconomic conditions, political stability, and healthcare accessibilities and limitations. An ethical approach would require discussion about resource allocation and appropriate distribution of funds.[80] CONCLUSION While some religions emphasize the sanctity of life from conception, which may lead to public opposition to ESC research, others encourage ESC research due to its potential for healing and alleviating human pain. Many countries have special regulations that balance local views on embryonic personhood, the benefits of research as individual or societal goods, and the protection of human research subjects. To foster understanding and constructive dialogue, global policy frameworks should prioritize the protection of universal human rights, transparency, and informed consent. In addition to these foundational global policies, we recommend tailoring local guidelines to reflect the diverse cultural and religious perspectives of the populations they govern. Ethics models should be adapted to local populations to effectively establish research protections, growth, and possibilities of stem cell research. For example, in countries with strong beliefs in the moral sanctity of embryos or heavy religious restrictions, an adaptive model can allow for discussion instead of immediate rejection. In countries with limited individual rights and voice in science policy, an adaptive model ensures cultural, moral, and religious views are taken into consideration, thereby building social inclusion. While this ethical consideration by the government may not give a complete voice to every individual, it will help balance policies and maintain the diverse perspectives of those it affects. Embracing an adaptive ethics model of ESC research promotes open-minded dialogue and respect for the importance of human belief and tradition. By actively engaging with cultural and religious values, researchers can better handle disagreements and promote ethical research practices that benefit each society. This brief exploration of the religious and cultural differences that impact ESC research reveals the nuances of relative ethics and highlights a need for local policymakers to apply a more intense adaptive model. - [1] Poliwoda, S., Noor, N., Downs, E., Schaaf, A., Cantwell, A., Ganti, L., Kaye, A. D., Mosel, L. I., Carroll, C. B., Viswanath, O., & Urits, I. (2022). Stem cells: a comprehensive review of origins and emerging clinical roles in medical practice. Orthopedic reviews, 14(3), 37498. https://doi.org/10.52965/001c.37498 [2] Poliwoda, S., Noor, N., Downs, E., Schaaf, A., Cantwell, A., Ganti, L., Kaye, A. D., Mosel, L. I., Carroll, C. B., Viswanath, O., & Urits, I. (2022). Stem cells: a comprehensive review of origins and emerging clinical roles in medical practice. Orthopedic reviews, 14(3), 37498. https://doi.org/10.52965/001c.37498 [3] International Society for Stem Cell Research. (2023). Laboratory-based human embryonic stem cell research, embryo research, and related research activities. International Society for Stem Cell Research. https://www.isscr.org/guidelines/blog-post-title-one-ed2td-6fcdk; Kimmelman, J., Hyun, I., Benvenisty, N. et al. Policy: Global standards for stem-cell research. Nature 533, 311–313 (2016). https://doi.org/10.1038/533311a [4] International Society for Stem Cell Research. (2023). Laboratory-based human embryonic stem cell research, embryo research, and related research activities. International Society for Stem Cell Research. https://www.isscr.org/guidelines/blog-post-title-one-ed2td-6fcdk [5] Concerning the moral philosophies of stem cell research, our paper does not posit a personal moral stance nor delve into the “when” of human life begins. To read further about the philosophical debate, consider the following sources: Sandel M. J. (2004). Embryo ethics--the moral logic of stem-cell research. The New England journal of medicine, 351(3), 207–209. https://doi.org/10.1056/NEJMp048145; George, R. P., & Lee, P. (2020, September 26). Acorns and Embryos. The New Atlantis. https://www.thenewatlantis.com/publications/acorns-and-embryos; Sagan, A., & Singer, P. (2007). The moral status of stem cells. Metaphilosophy, 38(2/3), 264–284. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24439776; McHugh P. R. (2004). Zygote and "clonote"--the ethical use of embryonic stem cells. The New England journal of medicine, 351(3), 209–211. https://doi.org/10.1056/NEJMp048147; Kurjak, A., & Tripalo, A. (2004). The facts and doubts about beginning of the human life and personality. Bosnian journal of basic medical sciences, 4(1), 5–14. https://doi.org/10.17305/bjbms.2004.3453 [6] Vazin, T., & Freed, W. J. (2010). Human embryonic stem cells: derivation, culture, and differentiation: a review. Restorative neurology and neuroscience, 28(4), 589–603. https://doi.org/10.3233/RNN-2010-0543 [7] Socially, at its core, the Western approach to ethics is widely principle-based, autonomy being one of the key factors to ensure a fundamental respect for persons within research. For information regarding autonomy in research, see: Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, & National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research (1978). The Belmont Report. Ethical principles and guidelines for the protection of human subjects of research.; For a more in-depth review of autonomy within the US, see: Beauchamp, T. L., & Childress, J. F. (1994). Principles of Biomedical Ethics. Oxford University Press. [8] Sherley v. Sebelius, 644 F.3d 388 (D.C. Cir. 2011), citing 45 C.F.R. 46.204(b) and [42 U.S.C. § 289g(b)]. https://www.cadc.uscourts.gov/internet/opinions.nsf/6c690438a9b43dd685257a64004ebf99/$file/11-5241-1391178.pdf [9] Stem Cell Research Enhancement Act of 2005, H. R. 810, 109th Cong. (2001). https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/109/hr810/text; Bush, G. W. (2006, July 19). Message to the House of Representatives. National Archives and Records Administration. https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2006/07/20060719-5.html [10] National Archives and Records Administration. (2009, March 9). Executive order 13505 -- removing barriers to responsible scientific research involving human stem cells. National Archives and Records Administration. https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/removing-barriers-responsible-scientific-research-involving-human-stem-cells [11] Hurlbut, W. B. (2006). Science, Religion, and the Politics of Stem Cells. Social Research, 73(3), 819–834. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40971854 [12] Akpa-Inyang, Francis & Chima, Sylvester. (2021). South African traditional values and beliefs regarding informed consent and limitations of the principle of respect for autonomy in African communities: a cross-cultural qualitative study. BMC Medical Ethics. 22. 10.1186/s12910-021-00678-4. [13] Source for further reading: Tangwa G. B. (2007). Moral status of embryonic stem cells: perspective of an African villager. Bioethics, 21(8), 449–457. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-8519.2007.00582.x , see also Mnisi, F. M. (2020). An African analysis based on ethics of Ubuntu - are human embryonic stem cell patents morally justifiable? African Insight, 49(4). [14] Jecker, N. S., & Atuire, C. (2021). Bioethics in Africa: A contextually enlightened analysis of three cases. Developing World Bioethics, 22(2), 112–122. https://doi.org/10.1111/dewb.12324 [15] Jecker, N. S., & Atuire, C. (2021). Bioethics in Africa: A contextually enlightened analysis of three cases. Developing World Bioethics, 22(2), 112–122. https://doi.org/10.1111/dewb.12324 [16] Jackson, C.S., Pepper, M.S. Opportunities and barriers to establishing a cell therapy programme in South Africa. Stem Cell Res Ther 4, 54 (2013). https://doi.org/10.1186/scrt204; Pew Research Center. (2014, May 1). Public health a major priority in African nations. Pew Research Center’s Global Attitudes Project. https://www.pewresearch.org/global/2014/05/01/public-health-a-major-priority-in-african-nations/ [17] Department of Health Republic of South Africa. (2021). Health Research Priorities (revised) for South Africa 2021-2024. National Health Research Strategy. https://www.health.gov.za/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/National-Health-Research-Priorities-2021-2024.pdf [18] Oosthuizen, H. (2013). Legal and Ethical Issues in Stem Cell Research in South Africa. In: Beran, R. (eds) Legal and Forensic Medicine. Springer, Berlin, Heidelberg. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-642-32338-6_80, see also: Gaobotse G (2018) Stem Cell Research in Africa: Legislation and Challenges. J Regen Med 7:1. doi: 10.4172/2325-9620.1000142 [19] United States Bureau of Citizenship and Immigration Services. (1998). Tunisia: Information on the status of Christian conversions in Tunisia. UNHCR Web Archive. https://webarchive.archive.unhcr.org/20230522142618/https://www.refworld.org/docid/3df0be9a2.html [20] Gaobotse, G. (2018) Stem Cell Research in Africa: Legislation and Challenges. J Regen Med 7:1. doi: 10.4172/2325-9620.1000142 [21] Kooli, C. Review of assisted reproduction techniques, laws, and regulations in Muslim countries. Middle East Fertil Soc J 24, 8 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1186/s43043-019-0011-0; Gaobotse, G. (2018) Stem Cell Research in Africa: Legislation and Challenges. J Regen Med 7:1. doi: 10.4172/2325-9620.1000142 [22] Pang M. C. (1999). Protective truthfulness: the Chinese way of safeguarding patients in informed treatment decisions. Journal of medical ethics, 25(3), 247–253. https://doi.org/10.1136/jme.25.3.247 [23] Wang, L., Wang, F., & Zhang, W. (2021). Bioethics in China’s biosecurity law: Forms, effects, and unsettled issues. Journal of law and the biosciences, 8(1). https://doi.org/10.1093/jlb/lsab019 https://academic.oup.com/jlb/article/8/1/lsab019/6299199 [24] Wang, Y., Xue, Y., & Guo, H. D. (2022). Intervention effects of traditional Chinese medicine on stem cell therapy of myocardial infarction. Frontiers in pharmacology, 13, 1013740. https://doi.org/10.3389/fphar.2022.1013740 [25] Li, X.-T., & Zhao, J. (2012). Chapter 4: An Approach to the Nature of Qi in TCM- Qi and Bioenergy. In Recent Advances in Theories and Practice of Chinese Medicine (p. 79). InTech. [26] Luo, D., Xu, Z., Wang, Z., & Ran, W. (2021). China's Stem Cell Research and Knowledge Levels of Medical Practitioners and Students. Stem cells international, 2021, 6667743. https://doi.org/10.1155/2021/6667743 [27] Luo, D., Xu, Z., Wang, Z., & Ran, W. (2021). China's Stem Cell Research and Knowledge Levels of Medical Practitioners and Students. Stem cells international, 2021, 6667743. https://doi.org/10.1155/2021/6667743 [28] Zhang, J. Y. (2017). Lost in translation? accountability and governance of Clinical Stem Cell Research in China. Regenerative Medicine, 12(6), 647–656. https://doi.org/10.2217/rme-2017-0035 [29] Wang, L., Wang, F., & Zhang, W. (2021). Bioethics in China’s biosecurity law: Forms, effects, and unsettled issues. Journal of law and the biosciences, 8(1). https://doi.org/10.1093/jlb/lsab019 https://academic.oup.com/jlb/article/8/1/lsab019/6299199 [30] Chen, H., Wei, T., Wang, H. et al. Association of China’s two-child policy with changes in number of births and birth defects rate, 2008–2017. BMC Public Health 22, 434 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1186/s12889-022-12839-0 [31] Azuma, K. Regulatory Landscape of Regenerative Medicine in Japan. Curr Stem Cell Rep 1, 118–128 (2015). https://doi.org/10.1007/s40778-015-0012-6 [32] Harris, R. (2005, May 19). Researchers Report Advance in Stem Cell Production. NPR. https://www.npr.org/2005/05/19/4658967/researchers-report-advance-in-stem-cell-production [33] Park, S. (2012). South Korea steps up stem-cell work. Nature. https://doi.org/10.1038/nature.2012.10565 [34] Resnik, D. B., Shamoo, A. E., & Krimsky, S. (2006). Fraudulent human embryonic stem cell research in South Korea: lessons learned. Accountability in research, 13(1), 101–109. https://doi.org/10.1080/08989620600634193. [35] Alahmad, G., Aljohani, S., & Najjar, M. F. (2020). Ethical challenges regarding the use of stem cells: interviews with researchers from Saudi Arabia. BMC medical ethics, 21(1), 35. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12910-020-00482-6 [36]Association for the Advancement of Blood and Biotherapies. https://www.aabb.org/regulatory-and-advocacy/regulatory-affairs/regulatory-for-cellular-therapies/international-competent-authorities/saudi-arabia [37] Alahmad, G., Aljohani, S., & Najjar, M. F. (2020). Ethical challenges regarding the use of stem cells: Interviews with researchers from Saudi Arabia. BMC medical ethics, 21(1), 35. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12910-020-00482-6 [38] Alahmad, G., Aljohani, S., & Najjar, M. F. (2020). Ethical challenges regarding the use of stem cells: Interviews with researchers from Saudi Arabia. BMC medical ethics, 21(1), 35. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12910-020-00482-6 Culturally, autonomy practices follow a relational autonomy approach based on a paternalistic deontological health care model. The adherence to strict international research policies and religious pillars within the regulatory environment is a great foundation for research ethics. However, there is a need to develop locally targeted ethics approaches for research (as called for in Alahmad, G., Aljohani, S., & Najjar, M. F. (2020). Ethical challenges regarding the use of stem cells: interviews with researchers from Saudi Arabia. BMC medical ethics, 21(1), 35. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12910-020-00482-6), this decision-making approach may help advise a research decision model. For more on the clinical cultural autonomy approaches, see: Alabdullah, Y. Y., Alzaid, E., Alsaad, S., Alamri, T., Alolayan, S. W., Bah, S., & Aljoudi, A. S. (2022). Autonomy and paternalism in Shared decision‐making in a Saudi Arabian tertiary hospital: A cross‐sectional study. Developing World Bioethics, 23(3), 260–268. https://doi.org/10.1111/dewb.12355; Bukhari, A. A. (2017). Universal Principles of Bioethics and Patient Rights in Saudi Arabia (Doctoral dissertation, Duquesne University). https://dsc.duq.edu/etd/124; Ladha, S., Nakshawani, S. A., Alzaidy, A., & Tarab, B. (2023, October 26). Islam and Bioethics: What We All Need to Know. Columbia University School of Professional Studies. https://sps.columbia.edu/events/islam-and-bioethics-what-we-all-need-know [39] Ababneh, M. A., Al-Azzam, S. I., Alzoubi, K., Rababa’h, A., & Al Demour, S. (2021). Understanding and attitudes of the Jordanian public about clinical research ethics. Research Ethics, 17(2), 228-241. https://doi.org/10.1177/1747016120966779 [40] Ababneh, M. A., Al-Azzam, S. I., Alzoubi, K., Rababa’h, A., & Al Demour, S. (2021). Understanding and attitudes of the Jordanian public about clinical research ethics. Research Ethics, 17(2), 228-241. https://doi.org/10.1177/1747016120966779 [41] Dajani, R. (2014). Jordan’s stem-cell law can guide the Middle East. Nature 510, 189. https://doi.org/10.1038/510189a [42] Dajani, R. (2014). Jordan’s stem-cell law can guide the Middle East. Nature 510, 189. https://doi.org/10.1038/510189a [43] The EU’s definition of autonomy relates to the capacity for creating ideas, moral insight, decisions, and actions without constraint, personal responsibility, and informed consent. However, the EU views autonomy as not completely able to protect individuals and depends on other principles, such as dignity, which “expresses the intrinsic worth and fundamental equality of all human beings.” Rendtorff, J.D., Kemp, P. (2019). Four Ethical Principles in European Bioethics and Biolaw: Autonomy, Dignity, Integrity and Vulnerability. In: Valdés, E., Lecaros, J. (eds) Biolaw and Policy in the Twenty-First Century. International Library of Ethics, Law, and the New Medicine, vol 78. Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-05903-3_3 [44] Council of Europe. Convention for the protection of Human Rights and Dignity of the Human Being with regard to the Application of Biology and Medicine: Convention on Human Rights and Biomedicine (ETS No. 164) https://www.coe.int/en/web/conventions/full-list?module=treaty-detail&treatynum=164 (forbidding the creation of embryos for research purposes only, and suggests embryos in vitro have protections.); Also see Drabiak-Syed B. K. (2013). New President, New Human Embryonic Stem Cell Research Policy: Comparative International Perspectives and Embryonic Stem Cell Research Laws in France. Biotechnology Law Report, 32(6), 349–356. https://doi.org/10.1089/blr.2013.9865 [45] Rendtorff, J.D., Kemp, P. (2019). Four Ethical Principles in European Bioethics and Biolaw: Autonomy, Dignity, Integrity and Vulnerability. In: Valdés, E., Lecaros, J. (eds) Biolaw and Policy in the Twenty-First Century. International Library of Ethics, Law, and the New Medicine, vol 78. Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-05903-3_3 [46] Tomuschat, C., Currie, D. P., Kommers, D. P., & Kerr, R. (Trans.). (1949, May 23). Basic law for the Federal Republic of Germany. https://www.btg-bestellservice.de/pdf/80201000.pdf [47] Regulation of Stem Cell Research in Germany. Eurostemcell. (2017, April 26). https://www.eurostemcell.org/regulation-stem-cell-research-germany [48] Regulation of Stem Cell Research in Finland. Eurostemcell. (2017, April 26). https://www.eurostemcell.org/regulation-stem-cell-research-finland [49] Regulation of Stem Cell Research in Spain. Eurostemcell. (2017, April 26). https://www.eurostemcell.org/regulation-stem-cell-research-spain [50] Some sources to consider regarding ethics models or regulatory oversights of other cultures not covered: Kara MA. Applicability of the principle of respect for autonomy: the perspective of Turkey. J Med Ethics. 2007 Nov;33(11):627-30. doi: 10.1136/jme.2006.017400. PMID: 17971462; PMCID: PMC2598110. Ugarte, O. N., & Acioly, M. A. (2014). The principle of autonomy in Brazil: one needs to discuss it ... Revista do Colegio Brasileiro de Cirurgioes, 41(5), 374–377. https://doi.org/10.1590/0100-69912014005013 Bharadwaj, A., & Glasner, P. E. (2012). Local cells, global science: The rise of embryonic stem cell research in India. Routledge. For further research on specific European countries regarding ethical and regulatory framework, we recommend this database: Regulation of Stem Cell Research in Europe. Eurostemcell. (2017, April 26). https://www.eurostemcell.org/regulation-stem-cell-research-europe [51] Klitzman, R. (2006). Complications of culture in obtaining informed consent. The American Journal of Bioethics, 6(1), 20–21. https://doi.org/10.1080/15265160500394671 see also: Ekmekci, P. E., & Arda, B. (2017). Interculturalism and Informed Consent: Respecting Cultural Differences without Breaching Human Rights. Cultura (Iasi, Romania), 14(2), 159–172.; For why trust is important in research, see also: Gray, B., Hilder, J., Macdonald, L., Tester, R., Dowell, A., & Stubbe, M. (2017). Are research ethics guidelines culturally competent? Research Ethics, 13(1), 23-41. https://doi.org/10.1177/1747016116650235 [52] The Qur'an (M. Khattab, Trans.). (1965). Al-Mu’minun, 23: 12-14. https://quran.com/23 [53] Lenfest, Y. (2017, December 8). Islam and the beginning of human life. Bill of Health. https://blog.petrieflom.law.harvard.edu/2017/12/08/islam-and-the-beginning-of-human-life/ [54] Aksoy, S. (2005). Making regulations and drawing up legislation in Islamic countries under conditions of uncertainty, with special reference to embryonic stem cell research. Journal of Medical Ethics, 31:399-403.; see also: Mahmoud, Azza. "Islamic Bioethics: National Regulations and Guidelines of Human Stem Cell Research in the Muslim World." Master's thesis, Chapman University, 2022. https://doi.org/10.36837/ chapman.000386 [55] Rashid, R. (2022). When does Ensoulment occur in the Human Foetus. Journal of the British Islamic Medical Association, 12(4). ISSN 2634 8071. https://www.jbima.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/2-Ethics-3_-Ensoulment_Rafaqat.pdf. [56] Sivaraman, M. & Noor, S. (2017). Ethics of embryonic stem cell research according to Buddhist, Hindu, Catholic, and Islamic religions: perspective from Malaysia. Asian Biomedicine,8(1) 43-52. https://doi.org/10.5372/1905-7415.0801.260 [57] Jafari, M., Elahi, F., Ozyurt, S. & Wrigley, T. (2007). 4. Religious Perspectives on Embryonic Stem Cell Research. In K. Monroe, R. Miller & J. Tobis (Ed.), Fundamentals of the Stem Cell Debate: The Scientific, Religious, Ethical, and Political Issues (pp. 79-94). Berkeley: University of California Press. https://escholarship.org/content/qt9rj0k7s3/qt9rj0k7s3_noSplash_f9aca2e02c3777c7fb76ea768ba458f0.pdf https://doi.org/10.1525/9780520940994-005 [58] Lecso, P. A. (1991). The Bodhisattva Ideal and Organ Transplantation. Journal of Religion and Health, 30(1), 35–41. http://www.jstor.org/stable/27510629; Bodhisattva, S. (n.d.). The Key of Becoming a Bodhisattva. A Guide to the Bodhisattva Way of Life. http://www.buddhism.org/Sutras/2/BodhisattvaWay.htm [59] There is no explicit religious reference to when life begins or how to conduct research that interacts with the concept of life. However, these are relevant verses pertaining to how the fetus is viewed. ((King James Bible. (1999). Oxford University Press. (original work published 1769)) Jerimiah 1: 5 “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee…” In prophet Jerimiah’s insight, God set him apart as a person known before childbirth, a theme carried within the Psalm of David. Psalm 139: 13-14 “…Thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…” These verses demonstrate David’s respect for God as an entity that would know of all man’s thoughts and doings even before birth. [60] It should be noted that abortion is not supported as well. [61] The Vatican. (1987, February 22). Instruction on Respect for Human Life in Its Origin and on the Dignity of Procreation Replies to Certain Questions of the Day. Congregation For the Doctrine of the Faith. https://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_19870222_respect-for-human-life_en.html [62] The Vatican. (2000, August 25). Declaration On the Production and the Scientific and Therapeutic Use of Human Embryonic Stem Cells. Pontifical Academy for Life. https://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_academies/acdlife/documents/rc_pa_acdlife_doc_20000824_cellule-staminali_en.html; Ohara, N. (2003). Ethical Consideration of Experimentation Using Living Human Embryos: The Catholic Church’s Position on Human Embryonic Stem Cell Research and Human Cloning. Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology. Retrieved from https://article.imrpress.com/journal/CEOG/30/2-3/pii/2003018/77-81.pdf. [63] Smith, G. A. (2022, May 23). Like Americans overall, Catholics vary in their abortion views, with regular mass attenders most opposed. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2022/05/23/like-americans-overall-catholics-vary-in-their-abortion-views-with-regular-mass-attenders-most-opposed/ [64] Rosner, F., & Reichman, E. (2002). Embryonic stem cell research in Jewish law. Journal of halacha and contemporary society, (43), 49–68.; Jafari, M., Elahi, F., Ozyurt, S. & Wrigley, T. (2007). 4. Religious Perspectives on Embryonic Stem Cell Research. In K. Monroe, R. Miller & J. Tobis (Ed.), Fundamentals of the Stem Cell Debate: The Scientific, Religious, Ethical, and Political Issues (pp. 79-94). Berkeley: University of California Press. https://escholarship.org/content/qt9rj0k7s3/qt9rj0k7s3_noSplash_f9aca2e02c3777c7fb76ea768ba458f0.pdf https://doi.org/10.1525/9780520940994-005 [65] Schenker J. G. (2008). The beginning of human life: status of embryo. Perspectives in Halakha (Jewish Religious Law). Journal of assisted reproduction and genetics, 25(6), 271–276. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10815-008-9221-6 [66] Ruttenberg, D. (2020, May 5). The Torah of Abortion Justice (annotated source sheet). Sefaria. https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/234926.7?lang=bi&with=all&lang2=en [67] Jafari, M., Elahi, F., Ozyurt, S. & Wrigley, T. (2007). 4. Religious Perspectives on Embryonic Stem Cell Research. In K. Monroe, R. Miller & J. Tobis (Ed.), Fundamentals of the Stem Cell Debate: The Scientific, Religious, Ethical, and Political Issues (pp. 79-94). Berkeley: University of California Press. https://escholarship.org/content/qt9rj0k7s3/qt9rj0k7s3_noSplash_f9aca2e02c3777c7fb76ea768ba458f0.pdf https://doi.org/10.1525/9780520940994-005 [68] Gert, B. (2007). Common morality: Deciding what to do. Oxford Univ. Press. [69] World Medical Association (2013). World Medical Association Declaration of Helsinki: ethical principles for medical research involving human subjects. JAMA, 310(20), 2191–2194. https://doi.org/10.1001/jama.2013.281053 Declaration of Helsinki – WMA – The World Medical Association.; see also: National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research. (1979). The Belmont report: Ethical principles and guidelines for the protection of human subjects of research. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. https://www.hhs.gov/ohrp/regulations-and-policy/belmont-report/read-the-belmont-report/index.html [70] Zakarin Safier, L., Gumer, A., Kline, M., Egli, D., & Sauer, M. V. (2018). Compensating human subjects providing oocytes for stem cell research: 9-year experience and outcomes. Journal of assisted reproduction and genetics, 35(7), 1219–1225. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10815-018-1171-z https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6063839/ see also: Riordan, N. H., & Paz Rodríguez, J. (2021). Addressing concerns regarding associated costs, transparency, and integrity of research in recent stem cell trial. Stem Cells Translational Medicine, 10(12), 1715–1716. https://doi.org/10.1002/sctm.21-0234 [71] Klitzman, R., & Sauer, M. V. (2009). Payment of egg donors in stem cell research in the USA. Reproductive biomedicine online, 18(5), 603–608. https://doi.org/10.1016/s1472-6483(10)60002-8 [72] Krosin, M. T., Klitzman, R., Levin, B., Cheng, J., & Ranney, M. L. (2006). Problems in comprehension of informed consent in rural and peri-urban Mali, West Africa. Clinical trials (London, England), 3(3), 306–313. https://doi.org/10.1191/1740774506cn150oa [73] Veatch, Robert M. Hippocratic, Religious, and Secular Medical Ethics: The Points of Conflict. Georgetown University Press, 2012. [74] Msoroka, M. S., & Amundsen, D. (2018). One size fits not quite all: Universal research ethics with diversity. Research Ethics, 14(3), 1-17. https://doi.org/10.1177/1747016117739939 [75] Pirzada, N. (2022). The Expansion of Turkey’s Medical Tourism Industry. Voices in Bioethics, 8. https://doi.org/10.52214/vib.v8i.9894 [76] Stem Cell Tourism: False Hope for Real Money. Harvard Stem Cell Institute (HSCI). (2023). https://hsci.harvard.edu/stem-cell-tourism, See also: Bissassar, M. (2017). Transnational Stem Cell Tourism: An ethical analysis. Voices in Bioethics, 3. https://doi.org/10.7916/vib.v3i.6027 [77]Song, P. (2011) The proliferation of stem cell therapies in post-Mao China: problematizing ethical regulation, New Genetics and Society, 30:2, 141-153, DOI: 10.1080/14636778.2011.574375 [78] Dajani, R. (2014). Jordan’s stem-cell law can guide the Middle East. Nature 510, 189. https://doi.org/10.1038/510189a [79] International Society for Stem Cell Research. (2024). Standards in stem cell research. International Society for Stem Cell Research. https://www.isscr.org/guidelines/5-standards-in-stem-cell-research [80] Benjamin, R. (2013). People’s science bodies and rights on the Stem Cell Frontier. Stanford University Press.