Articles de revues sur le sujet « Conflict of laws – Bankruptcy – European Union countries »

EU social policies should be complemented by contributing to a harmonious development of society, by reducing structural and regional imbalances, developing a balance between the a localized community and the national society, and improving the living standards of citizens and families of member states (Garrido 2002). Such important social policy principles as freedom and justice are addressed and represented in family laws in the EU regulations introduced during the period of 2000–2016. In this article, we studied the EU’s legal solutions in reference to national (Spain) laws on these matters: children and parental responsibility (adoption, child abduction, family benefits) and couples (matrimonial, regimes, prenuptial agreements, provisional measures). This legislation is necessary in the face of the proliferation of families whose members have different nationalities, and even in the mobilization of residences. Cooperation has intensified between national judicial authorities to ensure that legal decisions taken in one EU country are recognized and implemented in any other. This is highly important in civil cases, such as divorce, child custody, maintenance claims, or even bankruptcy and unpaid bills, when the individuals involved live in different countries. The development of family laws is one of the most important factors of family welfare in European countries.

English conflict of laws is the creation of the common law. Prior to Britain's entry into the European Union, legislation played only a limited role. The few legislative measures concerning choice of law were narrowly targeted to remedy specific problems—for example the formal validity of wills, or torts. The rules for service outside the jurisdiction were a more important exception, but their practical operation largely depended on judge-made concepts and remedies, such as forum non conveniens and antisuit injunctions. The common law also provided a complete system for the recognition of foreign judgments that operated untrammelled with regard to judgments from many countries, including some of the most important, while the relevant legislation, where applicable, did little more than provide a simpler procedure.

Abstract Article deals with the problem of the harmonisation and unification of the family law in the European Union as the consequence of the building the single European Space. Th e main claim of the author is that a speedy unification of substantive family law, particularly one that is decreed by European institutions, would lead to loss on national and regional legal culture, what accorfing the author can’t be justified. Th e alternative is a close cooperation of individual European cultural groups or neighboring countries and the unification of the conflict of laws provisions and of the law of jurisdiction of the courts as well as by enacting regulations on (mutual) recognition and enforcement of court decision.

The economic upheaval of a country is one of the reasons for the formation of an international organization, namely the European Union. The goal of the European Union itself is to promote through the community the harmonious, sustainable development of economic activity, steady improvement, rapid improvement of living standards, quality of life and closer relations between member states. This research has a problem formulation consisting of the transformation of EU law into law in the member states of the European Union, the transformation of EU law in the UK, and a challenge as a legal effort related to the transformation of EU law in the UK according to International Organization Law. This study uses a normative juridical research method. The results of the research on the transformation of European Union Law into National Law of member countries, namely by establishing Regulations, Directives, Decisions that must be applied in member countries. EU law has the supremacy of overriding the National Laws of member states. The transformation of European Union Law in the UK began with the agreement of the European Communities Act 1972 which was the UK's ratification of EU Law. Challenge as a legal remedy related to the transformation of European Union Law in the UK is permitted under Articles 230 and 232 of the European Union Agreement, namely by submitting a complaint to the national court in accordance with the time specified to carry out the challenge, this challenge action can end with an amendment. The conclusion of the research is the transformation of European Union Law in member countries in the form of Regulations, Directives, and Decisions. The European Union Law Transformation in the UK is regulated through the European Communities Act 1972. Challenge as a legal remedy related to the transformation of EU Law in the UK is allowed in order to create a good implementation. Suggestions related to research is that it is better to ensure that the transformation of European Union Law has been implemented as intended. The transformation of EU Law in the UK should ensure that UK National Law can be waived in the event of a conflict with EU Law which is immediately effective. Conduct in-depth negotiations, ask for opinions from representatives of each member country so that unity is achieved to facilitate the implementation of European Union Law in member countries and minimize challenges to European Union Law.

Euthanasia is one of the issues that bioethics deals with, which is one of the outmost importance. Furthermore it is very up-to-date. In Greece and in most countries of the European Union euthanasia has not been subject to specialized legislation. It is only occasionally debated, resulting in tension and conflict. On one hand, people have the right to self determination, so the end of life should be among them. On the other hand, life is considered to be of the highest value and it is the duty of healthcare personnel to guard and preserve it by any means, using their expertise and knowledge.In this paper, a brief report is made to the practices used across countries in the European Union regarding the end of life. Most countries are opposed to euthanasia while acknowledging the right of a patient to refuse or receive treatment. Only three countries have passed bills that legalize euthanasia under strict conditions. The rest, due to sensitivity in this matter, have not yet proceeded in reforming their laws accordingly. It seems that society does not have the necessary reassurances so that they can engulf that issue guarding the true will of a person.

Modern international hydrocarbons turnover is becoming more autonomous and decentralized. This process is facilitated not only by the introduction into contractual practice of such network technologies as smart contracts and blockchain platforms, but also by the wide dissemination of sources of non-governmental regulation (lex petrolea). In the context of the network paradigm of private international law, the classic problem of conflict of laws is exacerbated. The author considers the conflict-of-laws aspects of the use of smart contracts based on blockchain technology in cross-border oil and gas transactions, taking into account the fact that the use of computer algorithms does not create a new contract, but is only a special form of transaction. Such “automated” transactions in the oil and gas sector involving multiple jurisdictions create uncertainty in their legal regime. In the absence of a comprehensive substantive legal regulation, and in connection with the phenomenon of lex petrolea, the conflict-of-laws method of regulation predominates. The author shares his reasoning concerning the possibility of extending the application of Regulation No. 593/2008 of the European Parliament and the Council of the European Union “On the Law to be Applicable to contractual obligations (Rome I)” to smart contracts. The author concludes that existing regulation is quite applicable to smart contracts in cross-border oil and gas transactions. Another question is whether the law, which is applicable by virtue of a conflict-of-laws rule, provides for an appropriate substantive basis. To date, special legislation on smart contracts has been passed in only several American states. It is predicted that in the future, private international law will not only determine the law applicable to smart contracts, but will also be a guide to disseminating the positive experience of legal regulation of smart contracts in different countries.

Alpa provides an examination of the problems and prospects for the development of a European private law. As a protagonist of the harmonisation of private law through codification, he first identifies the work in progress and some of the broad issues that have had to be addressed (such as the need to develop rules that transcend national characterisations of sphere of private law and the distinction between civil and commercial laws). He then sets out the advantages of a unified private law: rules in conflict between themselves in the various countries of the European Union can develop as a real market hindrance, while uniform private law rules emerge as conditions precedent for the implementation of the single market. Projects directed towards the harmonisation of private law through codification have faced various criticisms. Alpa tries to address these. He notes first the trend towards convergence of (some aspects of) national laws that has been observed by comparative lawyers and the existence of unifying frameworks such as the constitutional law of the EU and the European Convention on Human Rights. He then briefly addresses three particular issues: (i) the problems allegedly created by the difference between common law and civil law structures, (ii) claims concerning value of legal pluralism and the undesirability of eliminating national cultural characteristics, and (iii) the argument that techniques of harmonisation other than the drafting of a Civil Code are more appropriate. The paper concludes with a note on issues of the drafting and structure of a possible future Code.

Summary Fake news is relevant in most countries of the world; nowadays the disinformation and fake news are of great importance as they greatly affect different political and social aspects of public life including healthcare, elections, migration, economy, etc. People are free to express themselves in different forms on the Internet, including publishing any content due to the freedom of expression. In order to understand how to legally frame fake news, it should first be clearly defined. The problem of disinformation and fake news is closely connected to the fact that providing a new law on fake news is likely to not just overlap but even often to conflict with the legislations that guarantee freedom of expression as fundamental freedom in the European Union. After considering existing laws, comparing, and analyzing measures taken to combat fake news, it appears that legislation may lead to over-censoring, violating freedom of expression. For effective fighting with fake news and its negative impact on the EU public, regulation on fake news is not necessary, it brings more legal issues than benefits to combating the dissemination of disinformation. Clearly defining the borderline between fake news and lies in the context of freedom of expression can therefore be more useful, taking a balancing approach. The general public is in many cases lacking media literacy and it can be improved by strengthening the role of media, which should be more consistent and be aimed at educating modern society.

Different national cultures within Western Europe have very different models of what constitutes a 'well-functioning organisation'. Looking at the nations with the largest economies in the European Union (the French, Germans, Italians and British), the author considers how some of these different models (the 'pyramid', the 'machine', the 'family' and the 'market') have influenced the company laws of the countries in which they are prevalent. The piece then considers the implications for European Union company law of the variations between the predominant national models. Strengths and weaknesses of the various ideal types of organization and other possible models are considered. This article will examine companies in the quartet of European Union countries which have an annual GDP exceeding 1.5 trillion euros: Germany, France, the UK and Italy. Very broadly, two of them, France and Italy are Southern European (traditionally mainly Catholic) in culture as well as geographically, the other two are Northern European (historically mainly Protestant). The four nations remain diverse in economic structure, and particularly in average company size and the use of capital markets, although (with Germany being much the largest) the scale of the economies is similar. These major European Union countries also have different pre dominant models of effective corporate organisation, regulation and management. The discussion will contend that the diverse sets of regulations in part stem from, and are connected to, varied models of what constitutes a 'well-functioning organisation' in the four nations. These pervasive 'ideal types' of the effective organisation might be expected to influence what governments, shareholders and other stakeholders expect of the major companies and how corporate leaders behave. In the European Union, it is argued that national cultures, including views of what constitutes a well-functioning organisation, still provide the basis for social interaction including business activity. Some implications of these underlying differences of perspective for greater co-ordination of company law at European Union level will also be addressed. The strengths and weaknesses of the various 'ideal types' of organisation will be considered. Finally, some possible alternative conceptions of the 'well-organised' company in the 21st Century will be discussed. The continuing diversity of national cultures between Germany, France, the UK and Italy is reflected in their nationals' preferred ways of conceptualising organisations, including major business organisations. Hofstede quotes Owen J Stevens' study at INSEAD Business School - "The majority of the French tended to resolve [a conflict] by referring to the hierarchy; the British, through horizontal negotiation; and the Germans, through the establishment of procedures. Stevens identified the implicit model of a well-functioning organization for the French as a pyramid, that for the British as a (village) market, and that for the Germans are a well-oiled machine." As far as Italy is concerned, the 'family' model remains most salient. These observations led the current author to further examination of those models in the national contexts as they connected to company law. Questions of the adequacy or otherwise of those mental pictures also arose.

Within the European Union, the Rome II Regulation determines the applicable law on cross-border matters of non-contractual nature. The paper examines the applicable law on environmental-related tort claims against European multi-national companies utilizing production facilities in third countries, either based on active misconduct or on alleged omission of environment-related due diligence. As these types of claims are an expression of misconduct by multinational corporations conducting business abroad, particular notice will be given to the applicable law on compensation claims for environmental damages allegedly caused by negligent compliance for environmental standards of either independent or subsidiary production facilities. While doing so, its main point of interest will be whether claims against European-based companies may be governed by the law of the effective seat of the latter. Considering that Article 7 Rome II provides for a special connecting factor regarding environmental damages, the paper examines whether Rome II does justice for due diligence-related cases on the conflict of laws level and argues for a nuanced approach to localize the place of the event giving rise to such damages. Private International Law, Environmental Damages, Civil Compensation, Torts, Corporate Social Responsibility, Rome II, Mandatory Rules, Public policy

The European Union has taken on an active role in harmonizing the law of international jurisdiction over civil and commercial court disputes. However, the jurisdictional rules contained in the key instrument in the area – the Brussels Ia Regulation – only apply to disputes involving EU-based defendants, save for a few exceptions where defendants domiciled in third countries are also covered. This article will explore the rationale for harmonizing the law of jurisdiction applicable to third-country defendants. This central theme is of particular interest, since further harmonization is once again on the EU’s agenda because of the upcoming revision of the Brussels Ia Regulation. The article will outline that proposals for harmonization are rooted in the aspiration to further effective access to justice. Moreover, it will demonstrate that far from a readily implementable programme, furthering access to justice is a multifaceted aim, the pursuit of which potentially has profound ramifications for the EU rules on civil jurisdiction. civil litigation, third-country defendants, law of jurisdiction, PIL, conflict of laws, Brussels Ia Regulation, harmonization

Due to a lack of uniformity or harmonization of laws and regulations, cross-border insolvency has remained an issue in the ASEAN region. ASEAN economic openness with the implementation of the ASEAN Free Trade Area (AFTA) and ASEAN Economic Community (AEC) may create issues at some points as investors compete to dominate the ASEAN while assets are located not only on their own territory but also in other ASEAN member countries. On some occasions, they can fail to meet their debt payment obligations when performing international business transactions. As a result of the bankruptcy case, a legal arrangement may exist between the country in which the business actor is declared bankrupt and the country in which the bankrupt debtor's assets are located. This interaction between two or more countries involves a clash of jurisdictions. In order to counter such an issue, ASEAN may learn from what the EU has done over these decades. The study aims to compare the regulatory issue of foreign court jurisdiction in settling the insolvency cases both in ASEAN and EU. The paper is normative-qualitative legal research. It used a comparative, statute, and conceptual approach. It is found that in terms of cross-border insolvency, the European Union is far ahead of ASEAN, given that at least two major regulations in place, namely EC Regulation 1346/2000 and EU Regulation 2015/848, while ASEAN has almost nothing to offer at this time. The experience of the EU to formulate and implement a settled regulation on foreign court jurisdiction in settling the insolvency cases among EU member countries is one of the valuable lessons that ASEAN may take from the EU.

Motivation: The functioning of the audiovisual sector strongly depends on the use of copyrights and related rights. Problems with their clearing could harm the functioning of companies and might even lead to strong financial problems. The distribution of copyright-protected audiovisual works requires the licensing of rights by different rightsholders. Some of them are represented by Copyright Management Organizations (CMOs), which allow users to clear rights for many works without individual negotiations. Fees paid to CMOs for copyright-protected content constitute a significant part of operating costs for companies like TV stations, cable operators, VoD (Video on Demand) platforms. In case of intellectual properties for audiovisual works, CMOs make the valuation. They have been facing legal challenges due to subjective valuations as a result of being monopolies in the local market of the represented country and lack of transparency. Aim: This work explores the transparency of 21 CMOs in 4 EU countries due to their expected to be an integrated market status as the result of political and economic amalgamation. In addition to the adoption of The European Union Directive on collective management of copyright and multi-territorial licensing of rights, as part of the EU’s Digital Single Market project, this exploratory research, with comparative analysis of CMOs using the linear ordering methods, explains the necessity of an epagogic approach to creating correct institutions besides directives and laws, such as central observation, an ombudsman for conflict management, or an official body to employ these features in one structure to actively govern the market. Results: The conducted analysis allowed us to reflect on the importance of transparency and taxonomic mapping of the audiovisual market landscape will be the guideline to flatten the copyright valuation divergence in the EU and eventually will pave the way for fewer disputes and more innovations.

Neoliberalism has dominated the world for over three decades and now permeates our laws, policies and practices at the international, national and local levels. The International Monetary Fund, the World Trade Organization, the European Union, the United States and China all support trade liberalization, privatization of public services and the primacy of markets over people. Indeed, neoliberalism has become so ingrained that it has become invisible and many of us no longer notice when new agendas conflict with international human rights laws and principles to which almost all countries in the world have committed themselves. Adopted in 1948, immediately after World War II, to implement one of the four goals of the new United Nations Organization, the norms and aspirations elaborated in the UDHR provide a framework for a radically different world than the one we have today. In this article, we revisit the content of the UDHR, beginning with the right to a social and international order in which everyone’s rights can be realized, and consider other key provisions that conflict with neoliberalism, including the rights to the benefits of science, to full employment and decent work, to progressive realization of free higher education, to nondiscrimination on the grounds of economic status and to solidarity. We also share some activities that we use in the classroom and online to make the transformative agenda of the UDHR visible to students and demonstrate how far we have strayed from the aspiration of a world in which everyone enjoys their human rights. The article concludes that teaching a holistic vision of the UDHR in a neoliberal world is a radical human rights curriculum.

AbstractThe European Union membership process has had an impact on Turkish domestic politics and foreign policy. However, when compared with previous candidate countries to the EU, the Europeanization of politics in Turkey has not been an even process. The reformation of politics in Turkey has had three main characteristics. First, instead of the pace of the reforms being linear, there has been a periodic rise and fall of interest in introducing amendments. Second, the reforms have not necessarily replaced past practices, rather they have only introduced new ones in addition to the old ways of doing politics. Finally, there has been considerable opposition to the reforms in Turkey, partially because the government does not seem to follow the liberal-democratic trajectory set out by the EU membership process. The delays in enacting the constitutional and legal changes and the biased selection of laws and practices that are being amended do not give the impression that the government is sincere. Whether the amendments are in fact Europeanizing Turkey or pulling it away from its Western and secular political framework is a significant question leading to conflict among different factions in society. This divergence of opinion, in turn, results in further stalling the reforms.

Abstract: Society moves fast and constantly. Despite the persistence of gender roles in marriages, other factors including heightened job market access and economic independence for women, as well as greater bargaining power in marriage and the evolution of no-fault divorce, have increased the role of party autonomy in family matters – and therefore, caused a shift in the complex debate between state policy interest in family matters and individual private autonomy. As a consequence of these significant societal changes, there has been an increased use of premarital agreements in contemplation of divorce. Through these agreements, before they marry the prospective spouses determine the consequences of a future breakdown, i.e. the rights that would otherwise arise at the time of the dissolution of the marriage or the death of one of the spouses. International prenuptial agreements (agreements with significant contacts with numerous countries) raise relevant questions with regard to jurisdiction, applicable law, and recognition and enforcement. This article conducts a comparative study between the conflict of laws system in the US and the European Union with regard to prenuptial agreements in contemplation of divorce, focusing on questions of jurisdiction. The advisability of choice of forum clauses and their limits will be at the heart of this study. Résumé: Les sociétés évoluent vite et de manière constante. Malgré la persistance des rôles entre homme et femme dans le mariage, d’autres facteurs tels que l’accès accru des femmes au marché du travail et leur indépendance économique, le pouvoir de négociation élargi au sein du mariage et l’évolution du divorce sans faute, ont renforcé le rôle de l’autonomie des parties dans les affaires familiales – et par là, ont marqué un changement dans le débat complexe entre d’une part les intérêts d’une politique étatique dans les affaires familiales et d’autre part l’autonomie privée individuelle. Par l’effet de ces importants changements de société, on a vu apparaître un usage accru de contrats de mariage conclus en considération d’un divorce. Ces contrats permettent aux futurs époux de fixer avant leur mariage les conséquences d’une rupture future, par ex. les droits qui, autrement, naîtraient au moment de la dissolution du mariage ou du décès de l’un des époux. Les contrats de mariage internationaux (contrats comportant des rapports significatifs avec plusieurs pays) entraînent des questions importantes en ce qui concerne le tribunal compétent, le droit applicable, la reconnaissance et l’exécution. Cet article contient une étude comparative entre le système de conflit de lois aux Etats-Unis et dans l’Union européenne à propos des contrats de mariage conclus en vue d’un divorce, en mettant l’accent sur des questions de compétence juridictionnelle. L’opportunité de clauses de choix du for et leurs limites est au centre de cette étude.

After its illegal occupation and annexation of Crimea in 2014 and continued military support for separatists in the Donbas, Russia escalated its war against Ukraine in February 2022 with direct ground attacks by Russian military forces on Ukraine's eastern, northern and southern borders, a blockade of Ukraine's coast and aerial attacks throughout the country. Millions of Ukrainians fled, including thousands of international students residing in Ukraine. Countries around the world responded to the resulting refugee crisis with varying policies. Many of Ukraine's neighboring countries enacted model immigration laws and developed various support schemes. Some governments, such as in Poland and the European Union (EU), immediately granted Ukrainian refugees the right to live, work, obtain access to education and receive benefits comparable to those to which their own citizens are entitled and created a generous and protective immigration model that attempts to prevent human trafficking and other forms of exploitation. Other countries geographically removed from the conflict used different models, including some with a private sponsorship component that, despite the best of intentions, may in retrospect be exposing refugees to the dangers of human trafficking and exploitation.<br/> Ukrainian refugees – also referred to as internally displaced persons (IDPs) if still remaining in Ukraine or as parolees if attempting to enter the United States (US) – seeking entry into the United Kingdom (UK) or US are required to find a private sponsor who accepts financial responsibility for them during their stay in their host country. In the UK, private sponsors are paid a monthly stipend, while in the US, private sponsors are not paid but actually contract with the US government to be financially responsible for the persons whom they are sponsoring. By contrast, Ukraine's neighbors, including Poland, with notably less economic and fiscal resources than either the UK or the US, have no private sponsorship requirement.<br/> Since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, Ukrainians have been a vulnerable population subjected to human trafficking – a situation exacerbated by Russia's current war against their country. In the first weeks of the war, credible firsthand and in-real-time reports by Ukrainian- and Russian-speaking attorneys and human rights advocates quickly emerged that describe Ukrainian women refugees utilizing online dating platforms, social media sites and online chat rooms to find private sponsors in the UK and the US. While this government policy requiring private sponsorship appeared to be a prudent means for vetting refugees, burden-sharing and shifting the hosting costs away from taxpayers and governments' ledgers, the policy has unintended consequences. Refugee and human trafficking experts state that the private sponsorship requirement compels Ukrainian refugees, 90-plus percent of whom are women and children, to 'market' themselves – often online – to potential private sponsors in the UK and US, thereby exposing themselves to human traffickers. This policy has potentially – albeit unintentionally – increased, exacerbated and even facilitated the human trafficking of Ukrainian refugees, an already vulnerable population experiencing a precariously heightened risk for physical, sexual and economic exploitation due to their growing desperation for physical safety.<br/> This article, written from the practitioners' perspective, discusses how the private sponsorship requirement for Ukrainian refugees is potentially increasing the risk of human trafficking for an already at-risk population, unnecessarily jeopardizing their safety and further stripping them of their human dignity. The unintended consequences of private sponsorship demonstrate that such a requirement in a wartime scenario is ill-conceived, inappropriate and dangerous public policy and, dare it be said, potentially exploitative.

Private international law smoothes the edges of civilian law and common law thanks to its specific legislative and technical structure. Conflict-of-law rules are considered to be neutral, and therefore more appropriate for unification, than substantive rules because countries are prepared to surrender their own individual solutions for the sake of uniform international or supranational regulation. This is evident in the successful unification of conflict-of-law rules at the global and European Union levels, as compared with the less common partial unifications of substantive rules. The paper illustrates several examples of unilateral legal acts in the European space, how diverse may be their substantive qualification in different legal systems, and what impacts these substantive differences may have upon the determination of the applicable law for obligations under European conflict-of-law rules. From the perspective of the conflict of laws, an issue remains open regarding what approach should be taken where a uniform legislative instrument – namely a European Regulation – fails to include a particular institution or act either expressly or impliedly.

It is January 1930 and the restless Southern Ocean is heaving itself up against the frozen coast of Eastern Antarctica. For hundreds of kilometres, this coastline consists entirely of ice: although Antarctica is a continent, only 2% of its surface consists of exposed rock; the rest is buried under a vast frozen mantle. But there is rock in this coastal scene: silhouetted against the glaring white of the glacial shelf, a barren island humps up out of the water. Slowly and cautiously, the Discovery approaches the island through uncharted waters; the crew’s eyes strain in the frigid air as they scour the ocean’s surface for ship-puncturing bergs. The approach to the island is difficult, but Captain Davis maintains the Discovery on its course as the wind howls in the rigging. Finally, the ship can go no further; the men lower a boat into the tossing sea. They pull hard at the oars until the boat is abreast of the island, and then they ram the bow against its icy littoral. Now one of the key moments of this exploratory expedition—officially titled the British, Australian, and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition (BANZARE)—is about to occur: the expedition is about to succeed in its primary spatial mission. Douglas Mawson, the Australian leader of the expedition, puts his feet onto the island and ascends to its bleak summit. There, he and his crew assemble a mound of loose stones and insert into it the flagpole they’ve carried with them across the ocean. Mawson reads an official proclamation of territorial annexation (see Bush 118-19), the photographer Frank Hurley shoots the moment on film, and one of the men hauls the Union Jack up the pole. Until the Australian Flags Act of 1953, the Union Jack retained seniority over the Australian flag. BANZARE took place before the 1931 Statute of Westminster, which gave full political and foreign policy independence to Commonwealth countries, thus Mawson claimed Antarctic space on behalf of Britain. He did so with the understanding that Britain would subsequently grant Australia title to its own Antarctican space. Britain did so in 1933. In the freezing wind, the men take off their hats, give three cheers for the King, and sing “God Save the King.” They deposit a copy of the proclamation into a metal canister and affix this to the flagpole; for a moment they admire the view. But there is little time to savour the moment, or the feeling of solid ground under their cold feet: the ship is waiting and the wind is growing in force. The men row back to the Discovery; Mawson returns to his cabin and writes up the event. A crucial moment in Antarctica’s spatial history has occurred: on what Mawson has aptly named Proclamation Island, Antarctica has been produced as Australian space. But how, exactly, does this production of Antarctica as a spatial possession work? How does this moment initiate the transformation of six million square kilometres of Antarctica—42% of the continent—into Australian space? The answer to this question lies in three separate, but articulated cultural technologies: representation, the body of the explorer, and international territorial law. When it comes to thinking about ‘turf’, Antarctica may at first seem an odd subject of analysis. Physically, Antarctica is a turfless space, an entire continent devoid of grass, plants, land-based animals, or trees. Geopolitically, Antarctica remains the only continent on which no turf wars have been fought: British and Argentinian soldiers clashed over the occupation of a Peninsular base in the Hope Bay incident of 1952 (Dodds 56), but beyond this somewhat bathetic skirmish, Antarctican space has never been the object of physical conflict. Further, as Antarctica has no indigenous human population, its space remains free of the colonial turfs of dispossession, invasion, and loss. The Antarctic Treaty of 1961 formalised Antarctica’s geopolitically turfless status, stipulating that the continent was to be used for peaceful purposes only, and stating that Antarctica was an internationally shared space of harmony and scientific goodwill. So why address Antarctican spatiality here? Two motivations underpin this article’s anatomising of Australia’s Antarctican space. First, too often Antarctica is imagined as an entirely homogeneous space: a vast white plain dotted here and there along its shifting coast by identical scientific research stations inhabited by identical bearded men. Similarly, the complexities of Antarctica’s geopolitical and legal spaces are often overlooked in favour of a vision of the continent as a site of harmonious uniformity. While it is true that the bulk of Antarctican space is ice, the assumption that its cultural spatialities are identical is far from the case: this article is part of a larger endeavour to provide a ‘thick’ description of Antarctican spatialities, one which points to the heterogeneity of cultural geographies of the polar south. The Australian polar spatiality installed by Mawson differs radically from that of, for example, Chile; in a continent governed by international consensus, it is crucial that the specific cultural geographies and spatial histories of Treaty participants be clearly understood. Second, attending to complexities of Antarctican spatiality points up the intersecting cultural technologies involved in spatial production, cultural technologies so powerful that, in the case of Antarctica, they transformed nearly half of a distant continent into Australian sovereign space. This article focuses its critical attention on three core spatialising technologies, a trinary that echoes Henri Lefebvre’s influential tripartite model of spatiality: this article attends to Australian Antarctic representation, practise, and the law. At the turn of the twentieth century, Scott, Shackleton, and Amundsen trooped over the polar plateau, and Antarctic space became a setting for symbolic Edwardian performances of heroic imperial masculinity and ‘frontier’ hardiness. At the same time, a second, less symbolic, type of Antarctican spatiality began to evolve: for the first time, Antarctica became a potential territorial possession; it became the object of expansionist geopolitics. Based in part on Scott’s expeditions, Britain declared sovereignty over an undefined area of the continent in 1908, and France declared Antarctic space its own in 1924; by the late 1920s, what John Agnew and Stuart Corbridge refer to as the nation-state ontology—that is, the belief that land should and must be divided into state-owned units—had arrived in Antarctica. What the Adelaide Advertiser’s 8 April 1929 headline referred to as “A Scramble for Antarctica” had begun. The British Imperial Conference of 1926 concluded that the entire continent should become a possession of Britain and its dominions, New Zealand and Australia (Imperial). Thus, in 1929, BANZARE set sail into the brutal Southern Ocean. Although the expedition included various scientists, its primary mission was not to observe Antarctican space, but to take possession of it: as the expedition’s instructions from Australian Prime Minister Bruce stated, BANZARE’s mission was to produce Antarctica as Empire’s—and by extension, Australia’s—sovereign space (Jacka and Jacka 251). With the moment described in the first paragraph of this article, along with four other such moments, BANZARE succeeded; just how it did so is the focus of this work. It is by now axiomatic in spatial studies that the job of imperial explorers is not to locate landforms, but to produce a discursive space. “The early travellers,” as Paul Carter notes of Australian explorers, “invented places rather than found them” (51). Numerous analytical investigations attend to the discursive power of exploration: in Australia, Carter’s Road to Botany Bay, Simon Ryan’s Cartographic Eye, Ross Gibson’s Diminishing Paradise, and Brigid Hains’s The Ice and the Inland, to name a few, lay bare the textual strategies through which the imperial annexation of “new” spaces was legitimated and enabled. Discursive territoriality was certainly a core product of BANZARE: as this article’s opening paragraph demonstrates, one of the key missions of BANZARE was not simply to perform rituals of spatial possession, but to textualise them for popular and governmental consumption. Within ten months of the expedition’s return, Hurley’s film Southward Ho! With Mawson was touring Australia. BANZARE consisted of two separate trips to Antarctica; Southward Ho! documents the first of these, while Siege of the South documents the both the first and the second, 1930-1, mission. While there is not space here to provide a detailed textual analysis of the entire film, a focus on the “Proclamation Island moment” usefully points up some of the film’s central spatialising work. Hurley situated the Proclamation Island scene at the heart of the film; the scene was so important that Hurley wished he had been able to shoot two hours of footage of Mawson’s island performance (Ayres 194). This scene in the film opens with a long shot of the land and sea around the island; a soundtrack of howling wind not only documents the brutal conditions in which the expedition worked, but also emphasises the emptiness of Antarctican space prior to its “discovery” by Mawson: in this shot, the film visually confirms Antarctica’s status as an available terra nullius awaiting cooption into Australian understanding, and into Australian national space. The film then cuts to a close-up of Mawson raising the flag; the sound of the wind disappears as Mawson begins to read the proclamation of possession. It is as if Mawson’s proclamation of possession stills the protean chaos of unclaimed Antarctic space by inviting it into the spatial order of national territory: at this moment, Antarctica’s agency is symbolically subsumed by Mawson’s acquisitive words. As the scene ends, the camera once again pans over the surrounding sea and ice scape, visually confirming the impact of Mawson’s—and the film’s—performance: all this, the shot implies, is now made meaningful; all this is now understood, recorded, and, most importantly, all this is now ours. A textual analysis of this filmic moment might identify numerous other spatialising strategies at work: its conflation of Mawson’s and the viewer’s proprietary gazes (Ryan), its invocation of the sublime, or its legitimising conflation of the ‘purity’ of the whiteness of the landscape with the whiteness of its claimants (Dyer 21). However, the spatial productivity of this moment far exceeds the discursive. What is at times frustrating about discourse analyses of spatiality is that they too often fail to articulate representation to other, equally potent, cultural technologies of spatial production. John Wylie notes that “on the whole, accounts of early twentieth-century Antarctic exploration exhibit a particular tendency to position and interpret exploratory experience in terms of self-contained discursive ensembles” (170). Despite the undisputed power of textuality, discourse alone does not, and cannot, produce a spatial possession. “Discursive and representational practices,” as Jane Jacobs observes, “are in a mutually constitutive relationship with political and economic forces” (9); spatiality, in other words, is not simply a matter of texts. In order to understand fully the process of Antarctican spatial acquisition, it is necessary to depart from tales of exploration and ships and flags, and to focus on the less visceral spatiality of international territorial law. Or, more accurately, it is necessary to address the mutual imbrication of these two articulated spatialising “domains of practice” (Dixon). The emerging field of critical legal geography is founded on the premise that legal analyses of territoriality neglect the spatial dimension of their investigations; rather than seeing the law as a means of spatial production, they position space as a neutral, universally-legible entity which is neatly governed by the “external variable” of territorial law (Blomley 28). “In the hegemonic conception of the law,” Wesley Pue argues, “the entire world is transmuted into one vast isotropic surface” (568) upon which law acts. Nicholas Blomley asserts, however, that law is not a neutral organiser of space, but rather a cultural technology of spatial production. Territorial laws, in other words, make spaces, and don’t simply govern them. When Mawson planted the flag and read the proclamation, he was producing Antarctica as a legal space as well as a discursive one. Today’s international territorial laws derive directly from European imperialism: as European empires expanded, they required a spatial system that would protect their newly-annexed lands, and thus they developed a set of laws of territorial acquisition and possession. Undergirding these laws is the ontological premise that space is divisible into state-owned sovereign units. At international law, space can be acquired by its imperial claimants in one of three main ways: through conquest, cession (treaty), or through “the discovery of terra nullius” (see Triggs 2). Antarctica and Australia remain the globe’s only significant spaces to be transformed into possessions through the last of these methods. In the spatiality of the international law of discovery, explorers are not just government employees or symbolic representatives, but vessels of enormous legal force. According to international territorial law, sovereign title to “new” territory—land defined (by Europeans) as terra nullius, or land belonging to no one—can be established through the eyes, feet, codified ritual performances, and documents of explorers. That is, once an authorised explorer—Mawson carried documents from both the Australian Prime Minister and the British King that invested his body and his texts with the power to transform land into a possession—saw land, put his foot on it, planted a flag, read a proclamation, then documented these acts in words and maps, that land became a possession. These performative rituals and their documentation activate the legal spatiality of territorial acquisition; law here is revealed as a “bundle of practices” that produce space as a possession (Ford 202). What we witness when we attend to Mawson’s island performance, then, is not merely a discursive performance, but also the transformation of Antarctica into a legal space of possession. Similarly, the films and documents generated by the expedition are more than just a “sign system of human ambition” (Tang 190), they are evidence, valid at law, of territorial possession. They are key components of Australia’s legal currency of Antarctican spatial purchase. What is of central importance here is that Mawson’s BANZARE performance on Proclamation Island is a moment in which the dryly legal, the bluntly physical, and the densely textual clearly intersect in the creation of space as a possession. Australia did not take possession of forty-two percent of Antarctica after BANZARE by law, by exploration, or by representation alone. The Australian government built its Antarctic space with letters patent and legal documents. BANZARE produced Australia’s Antarctic possession through the physical and legal rituals of flag-planting, proclamation-reading, and exploration. BANZARE further contributed to Australia’s polar empire with maps, journals, photos and films, and cadastral lists of the region’s animals, minerals, magnetic fields, and winds. The law of “discovery of terra nullius” coalesced these spaces into a territory officially designated as Australian. It is crucial to recognise that the production of nearly half of Antarctica as Australian space was, and is not a matter of discourse, of physical performance, or of law alone. Rather, these three cultural technologies of spatial production are mutually imbricated; none can function without the others, nor is one reducible to an epiphenomenon of another. To focus on the discursive products of BANZARE without attending to the expedition’s legal work not only downplays the significance of Mawson’s spatialising achievement, but also blinds us to the role that law plays in the production of space. Attending to Mawson’s Proclamation Island moment points to the unique nature of Australia’s Antarctic spatiality: unlike the US, which constructs Antarctic spatiality as entirely non-sovereign; and unlike Chile, which bases its Antarctic sovereignty claim on Papal Bulls and acts of domestic colonisation, Australian Antarctic space is a spatiality of possession, founded on a bedrock of imperial exploration, representation, and law. Seventy-four years ago, the camera whirred as a man stuck a flagpole into the bleak summit rocks of a small Antarctic island: six million square kilometres of Antarctica became, and remain, Australian space. Works Cited Agnew, John, and Stuart Corbridge. Mastering Space: Hegemony, Territory and International Political Economy. London: Routledge, 1995. Ayres, Philip. Mawson: A Life. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 1999. Blomley, Nicholas. Law, Space, and the Geographies of Power. New York: Guilford, 1994. Bush, W. M. Antarctica and International Law: A Collection of Inter-State and National Documents. Vol. 2. London: Oceana, 1982. Carter, Paul. The Road to Botany Bay: An Essay in Spatial History. London: Faber, 1987. Dixon, Rob. Prosthetic Gods: Travel, Representation and Colonial Governance. Brisbane: UQP, 2001. Dodds, Klaus. Geopolitics in Antarctica: Views from the Southern Oceanic Rim. Chichester: Wiley, 1997. Dyer, Richard. White. London: Routledge, 1997. Ford, Richard. “Law’s Territory (A History of Jurisdiction).” The Legal Geographies Reader. Ed. Nicholas Blomley and Richard Ford. Oxford: Blackwell, 2001. 200-17. Gibson, Ross. The Diminishing Paradise: Changing Literary Perceptions of Australia. Sydney: Sirius, 1984. Hains, Brigid. The Ice and the Inland: Mawson, Flynn, and the Myth of the Frontier. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2002. Imperial Conference, 1926. Summary of Proceedings. London: His Majesty’s Stationary Office, 1926. Jacka, Fred, and Eleanor Jacka, eds. Mawson’s Antarctic Diaries. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1988. Jacobs, Jane. Edge of Empire: Postcolonialism and the City. London: Routledge, 1996. Pue, Wesley. “Wrestling with Law: (Geographical) Specificity versus (Legal) Abstraction.” Urban Geography 11.6 (1990): 566-85. Ryan, Simon. The Cartographic Eye: How the Explorers Saw Australia. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996. Tang, David. “Writing on Antarctica.” Room 5 1 (2000): 185-95. Triggs, Gillian. International Law and Australian Sovereignty in Antarctica. Sydney: Legal, 1986. Wylie, John. “Earthly Poles: The Antarctic Voyages of Scott and Amundsen.” Postcolonial Geographies. Ed Alison Blunt and Cheryl McEwan. London: Continuum, 2002. 169-83. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Collis, Christy. "Australia’s Antarctic Turf" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/02-feature-australia.php>. APA Style Collis, C. (2004, Mar17). Australia’s Antarctic Turf. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture,7,<http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/02-feature australia.php>

Photo by Agni B on Unsplash ABSTRACT The number of scientific articles published per year has been steadily increasing; so have the instances of misconduct in medical research. While increasing scientific knowledge is beneficial, it is imperative that research be authentic and bias-free. This article explores why fraud and other misconduct occur, presents the consequences of the phenomenon, and proposes measures to eliminate unethical practices in medical research. The main reason scientists engage in unethical practices is the pressure to publish which is directly related to their academic advancement and career development. Additional factors include the pressure to get research funds, the pressure from funding sources on researchers to deliver results, how scientific publishing has evolved over the years, and the over-publication of research in general. Fraud in medical research damages trust and reliability in science and potentially harms individuals. INTRODUCTION Since the introduction of Evidence-Based Medicine (EBM) in the early 1990s, scientific articles published per year have increased steadily. No one knows the exact number of scientific articles published per year, but several estimates point to around 2,000,000.[1] EBM aims to integrate the clinical experience and the best available scientific knowledge in managing individual patients.[2] The EBM model is based on the accumulation of as much clinical and research data as possible, which has propelled a significant rise in research. Unfortunately, its incentive structure has also led to a rise in research misconduct. “Fraud in science has a long history.”[3] Cases of misconduct began to surface in the late 1980s and increased during the 1990s. Experts suggest that today fraud is “endemic in many scientific disciplines and in most countries.”[4] In recent reporting, the majority of cases of scientific fraud involved falsification and fabrication of the data, while plagiarism was much less frequent. 8 percent of scientists and 10 percent of medical and life-sciences researchers admitted to falsifying data at least once between 2017 and 2021 in a Dutch study of 6,813 researchers, while more than half engaged in at least one questionable research practice.[5] Questionable research practices include research design flaws or unfairness in decisions surrounding publication or grants.[6] In an older study, closer to 2 percent of those surveyed reported having engaged in falsification or fabrication,[7] while in a more recent survey of 3,000 scientists with NIH grants in the United States, 0.3 percent of the scientists responding admitted fabricating research data and 1.4 percent of them admitted plagiarizing.[8] These numbers are almost certainly not reflective of the true incidence of fraud as many scientists admitted that they engaged in a range of behaviors beyond fabrication, falsification, and plagiarism that undermine the integrity of science, such as changing the results of a study under pressure from a funding source or failing to present data that contradicts one’s previous research. It is also unclear whether surveys are the best method to investigate misconduct because a scientist answering the survey may be unsure of anonymity and may not be truthful. This article explores why misconduct occurs, presents the consequences, and proposes measures to eliminate unethical practices in medical research. In the 1999 Joint Consensus Conference on Misconduct in Biomedical Research, “scientific fraud” was defined as any “behavior by a researcher, intentional or not, that falls short of good ethical and scientific standards.”[9] ANALYSIS l. The Scientific Publishing Landscape There are several reasons scientists may commit misconduct and engage in unethical practices. There is an increasing pressure to publish, which the motto "publish or perish reflects.”[10] The number of scientific papers published by a researcher is directly related to their academic advancement and career development. Similarly, academic institutions rely on scientific publications to gain prestige and access research grants. Pressure to get research grants may create environments that make it challenging to research integrity. Researchers are often tempted to alter their data to fulfill the desired results, separately report the results of one research in multiple end publications, commonly referred to as “salami publication,” or even simultaneously submit their scientific articles to more than one journal. This creates a vicious cycle in which the need for funding leads to scientific misconduct, which in turn secures more research funding. Meanwhile, the pressure from the funding sources cannot be overlooked either. Although researchers must report the role of the funding sources, selection and publication bias often may advantage articles that support the interests of the financial sponsor. Disclosure does not alter the conflict of interest. The growing number of scientific articles published per year has practically overwhelmed the peer-review system. Manuscript submissions are often reviewed superficially or assigned to inexperienced reviewers; therefore, misconduct cases may go unnoticed. The rise of “predatory” journals that charge authors publication fees and do not review work for authenticity and the dissemination of information through preprints has worsened the situation. The way that profits influence scientific publishing has very likely contributed to the phenomenon of misconduct. The publishing industry is a highly profitable business.[11] The increased reliance on funding from sources that expect the research to appear in prestigious, open-access journals often creates conflicts of interest and funding bias. On the other hand, high-impact journals have not given space to navigate through negative results and previous failures. Nonsignificant findings commonly remain unpublished, a phenomenon known as “the file drawer problem.” Scientists often manipulate their data to fit their initial hypothesis or change their hypothesis to fit their results, leading to outcome-reporting bias. ll. Misconduct Concerning the Reporting and Publishing Data The types of misconduct vary and have different implications for the scientist’s career and those relying on the research. For example, plagiarism is generally not punished by law currently unless it violates the original author’s copyright. Nevertheless, publishers who detect plagiarism implement penalties such as rejection of the submitted article and expulsion of the author. While plagiarism can be either accidental or deliberate, in either case, it is a serious violation of academic integrity as it involves passing off someone else’s “work or ideas” as one’s own.[12] Plagiarism can be “verbatim” (copying sentences or paragraphs from previously published work without using quotation marks or referencing the source) or rephrasing someone’s work or ideas without citing them. In “mosaic” plagiarism, the work plagiarized comes from various sources. “Self-plagiarism” is defined as an author’s reproduction of their previous publications or ideas in the same or altered words. According to most scientific journals, all authors of an article in part must have contributed to the conception and design of the study, drafted the article, revised it critically, or approved of its final version.[13] The use of a ghost author (usually a professional writer who is not named an author) is generally not ethical, as it undermines the requirement that the listed authors created the article. Moreover, wasteful publication is another practice that contributes to misconduct. Wasteful publication includes dividing the results of one single study into multiple end publications (“salami slicing”), republishing the same results in one or more articles, or extending a previously published article by adding new data without reaching new conclusions. Wasteful publication not only skews the scientific databases, but also wastes the time of the readers, the editors, and the reviewers. It is considered unethical because it unreasonably increases the authors’ citation records. Authors caught engaging in such behaviors may be banned from submitting articles for years while the submitted article is automatically rejected. Wasteful publication is an example of how the pressure to publish more articles leads to dishonest behavior, making it look like a researcher has conducted more studies and has more experience. Conflicts of interest are not strictly prohibited in medicine but require disclosure. Although disclosure of financial interests is a critical step, it does not guarantee the absence of bias. Researchers with financial ties to a pharmaceutical company funding their research are more likely to report results that favor the sponsor, which eventually undermines the integrity of research.[14] Financial sponsors should not be allowed to influence publication; rather authors need to publish their results based on their own decisions and findings. lll. Misconduct in Carrying Out Scientific Research Studies Common forms of fabrication include concealing negative results, changing the results to fit the initial hypothesis or selective reporting of the outcomes. Falsification is the manipulation of experimental data that leads to inaccurate presentation of the research results. Falsified data includes deliberately manipulating images, omitting, or adding data points, and removing outliers in a dataset for the sake of manipulating the outcome. In contrast to plagiarism, this type of misconduct is very difficult to detect. Scientists who fabricate or falsify their data may be banned from receiving funding grants or terminated from their institutions. Falsification and fabrication are dangerous to the public as they can result in people giving and receiving incorrect medical advice. Relying on falsified data can lead to death or injury or lead patients to take a drug, treatment, or use a medical device that is less effective than perceived. Thus, some members of the scientific community support the criminalization of this type of misconduct.[15] Research involving human participants requires respect for persons, beneficence, justice, voluntary consent, respect for autonomy, and confidentiality. Violating those principles constitutes unethical human experimentation. The Declaration of Helsinki is a statement of ethical principles for biomedical research involving human subjects, including research on identifiable human material and data. Similarly, research in which animals are subjects is also regulated. The first set of limits on the practice of animal experimentation was the Cruelty to Animals Act passed in 1876 by the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Currently, all animal experiments in the EU should be carried out in accordance with the European Directive (2010/63/EU),[16] and in the US, there are many state and federal laws governing research involving animals. The incentives to compromise the ethical responsibilities surrounding human and animal practices may differ from the pressure to publish, yet some are in the same vein. They may generally include taking shortcuts, rushing to get necessary approvals, or using duress to get more research subjects, all actions that reflect a sense of urgency. lV. Consequences of Scientific Misconduct Fraud in medical research damages science by creating data that other researchers will be urged to follow or reproduce that wastes time, effort, and funds. Scientific misconduct undermines the trust among researchers and the public’s trust in science. Meanwhile, fraud in medical trials may lead to the release of ineffective or unsafe drugs or processes that could potentially harm individuals. Most recently, a study conducted by Surgisphere Corporation supported the efficacy of hydroxychloroquine for the treatment of COVID-19 disease.[17] The scientific article that presented the results of the study was retracted shortly after its release due to concerns raised over the validity of the data. Scientific misconduct is associated with reputational and financial costs, including wasted funds for research that is practically useless, costs of an investigation into the fraudulent research, and costs to settle litigation connected with the misconduct. The retraction of scientific articles for misconduct between 1992 and 2002 accounted for $58 million in lost funding by the NIH (which is the primary source of public funds for biomedical research in the US).[18] Of retracted articles, over half are retracted due to “fabrication, falsification, and plagiarism.”[19] Yet it is likely that many articles that contain falsified research are never retracted. A study revealed that of 12,000 journals reviewed, most of the journals had never retracted an article. The same study suggests that some journals have improved oversight, but many do not.[20] V. Oversight and Public Interest Organizations The Committee on Publication Ethics (COPE) was founded in 1997 and established practices and policies for journals and publishers to achieve the highest standards in publication ethics.[21] The Office of Research Integrity (ORI) is an organization created in the US to do the same. In 1996, the International Conference of Harmonization (ICH) adopted the international Good Clinical Practice (GCP) guidelines.[22] Finally, in 2017 the Parliamentary Office of Science and Technology (POST) initiated a formal inquiry into the trends and developments on fraud and misconduct in research and the publication of research results.[23] Despite the increasing efforts of regulatory organizations, scientific misconduct remains a major issue. To eliminate unethical practices in medical research, we must get to the root of the problem: the pressures put on scientists to increase output at the expense of quality. In the absence of altered incentives, criminalization is a possibility. However, several less severe remedies for reducing the prevalence of scientific misconduct exist. Institutions first need to foster open and frank discussion and promote collegiality. Reducing high-stakes competition for career advancement would also help realign incentives to compromise research ethics. In career advancement, emphasis should be given to the quality rather than the quantity of scientific publications. The significance of mentorship by senior, experienced researchers over lab assistants can bolster ethical training. Adopting certain codes of conduct and close supervision of research practices in the lab and beyond should also be formalized. The publication system plays a critical role in preserving research integrity. Computer-assisted tools that detect plagiarism and other types of misconduct need to be developed or upgraded. To improve transparency, scientific journals should establish clear authorship criteria and require that the data supporting the findings of a study be made available, a movement that is underway. Preprint repositories also might help with transparency, but they could lead to people acting on data that has not been peer-reviewed. Finally, publishing negative results is necessary so that the totality of research is not skewed or tainted by informative studies but does not produce the results researchers hoped. Consistently publishing negative results may create a new industry standard and help researchers see that all data is important. CONCLUSION Any medical trial, research project, or scientific publication must be conducted to develop science and improve medicine and public health. However, the pressures from the pharmaceutical industry and academic competition pose significant threats to the trustworthiness of science. Thus, it is up to every scientist to respect and follow ethical rules, while responsible organizations, regulatory bodies, and scientific journals should make every effort to prevent research misconduct. - [1] World Bank. “Scientific and technical journal articles”. World Development Indicators, The World Bank Group. https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/IP.JRN.ARTC.SC?year_low_desc=true. [2] Masic I, Miokovic M, Muhamedagic B. “Evidence Based Medicine - New Approaches and Challenges.” Acta Inform Med. 2008;16(4):219-25. https://www.bibliomed.org/mnsfulltext/6/6-1300616203.pdf?1643160950 [3] Dickenson, D. “The Medical Profession and Human Rights: Handbook for a Changing Agenda.” Zed Books. 2002;28(5):332. doi: 10.1136/jme.28.5.332. [4] Ranstam J, Buyse M, George SL, Evans S, Geller NL, Scherrer B, et al. “Fraud in Medical Research: an International Survey of Biostatisticians, ISCB Subcommittee on Fraud. Control Clin Trials. 2000;21(5):415-27. doi: 10.1016/s0197-2456(00)00069-6. [5] Gopalakrishna, G., Riet, G. T., Vink, G., Stoop, I., Wicherts, J. M., & Bouter, L. (2021, “Prevalence of questionable research practices, research misconduct and their potential explanatory factors: a survey among academic researchers in The Netherlands.” MetaArXiv. July 6, 2021. doi:10.31222/osf.io/vk9yt; Chawla, Dalmeet Singh, “8% of researchers in Dutch survey have falsified or fabricated data.” Nature. 2021. https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-021-02035-2 (The Dutch study’s author suggests the results could be an underestimate; she also notes an older similar study that found 4.5 percent.) [6] Chawla. [7] Fanelli D. How many scientists fabricate and falsify research? A systematic review and meta-analysis of survey data. PLoS One. 2009;4(5):e5738. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0005738 [8] Martinson BC, Anderson MS, de Vries R. “Scientists behaving badly” Nature. 2005;435(7043):737-8. https://www.nature.com/articles/435737a. [9] Munby J, Weetman, DF. Joint Consensus Conference on Misconduct in Biomedical Research: The Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh. Indoor Built Environ. 1999;8:336–338. doi: 10.1177/1420326X9900800511. [10] Stephen Beale “Large Dutch Survey Shines Light on Fraud and Questionable Research Practices in Medical Studies Published in Scientific Journals,” The Dark Daily, Aug 30, 2021. https://www.darkdaily.com/2021/08/30/large-dutch-survey-shines-light-on-fraud-and-questionable-research-practices-in-medical-studies-published-in-scientific-journals/ [11] Buranyi S. Is the staggeringly profitable business of scientific publishing bad for science? The Guardian. June 27, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/science/2017/jun/27/profitable-business-scientific-publishing-bad-for-science [12] Cambridge English Dictionary. https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/plagiarism [13] International Committee of Medical Journal Editors. Defining the Role of Authors and Contributors http://www.icmje.org/recommendations/browse/roles-and-responsibilities/defining-the-role-of-authors-and-contributors.html [14] Resnik DB, Elliott KC. “Taking Financial Relationships into Account When Assessing Research.” Accountability in Research. 2013;20(3):184-205. doi: 10.1080/08989621.2013.788383. [15] Bülow W, Helgesson G. Criminalization of scientific misconduct. Med Health Care and Philos. 2019;22:245–252. [16] Directive 2010/63/EU of the European Parliament and of the Council of 22 September 2010 on the protection of animals used for scientific purposes. Official Journal of the European Union. https://eur-lex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri=OJ:L:2010:276:0033:0079:en:PDF [17] Mehra MR, Desai SS, Ruschitzka F, Patel AN. “RETRACTED: Hydroxychloroquine or Chloroquine with or without a Macrolide for Treatment of COVID-19: a Multinational Registry Analysis.” The Lancet. 2020. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(20)31180-6. [18] Stern AM, Casadevall A, Steen RG, Fang FC. “Financial Costs and Personal Consequences of Research Misconduct Resulting in Retracted Publications,” eLife. 2014;3:e02956. doi: 10.7554/eLife.02956. [19] Brainard, Jeffrey and Jia You, “What a massive database of retracted papers reveals about science publishing's ‘death penalty': Better editorial oversight, not more flawed papers, might explain flood of retractions,” Science, Oct 25, 2018 https://www.science.org/content/article/what-massive-database-retracted-papers-reveals-about-science-publishing-s-death-penalty [20] Brainard and You. [21] Doherty M, Van De Putte Lbacope. Guidelines on Good Publication Practice; Annals of the Rheumatic Diseases 2000;59:403-404. [22] Dixon JR Jr. The International Conference on Harmonization Good Clinical Practice Guideline. Qual Assur. 1998 Apr-Jun;6(2):65-74. doi: 10.1080/105294199277860. PMID: 10386329. [23] “Research Integrity Terms of Reference.” Science and Technology Committee, 14 Sept. 2017, committees.parliament.uk/committee/135/science-and-technology-committee/news/100920/research-integrity-terms-of-reference/.