Artykuły w czasopismach na temat „National Liberty Medal Committee”

The Executive Committee of the International Pediatric Association (IPA) has established an "Ihsan Dogramaci" IPA Medal and Prize, to be awarded triennially during the IPA International Congresses. This will consist of a medal and a US $10 000 prize. The award will be made to someone who has made a significant contribution to pediatric education at the national or international level. A selection committee will screen the candidates and make a proposal to the IPA Executive Committee for a final decision. The Member Societies of IPA are invited to propose candidates, with their CVs and a description of their contribution to pediatric education, to reach the office of the Executive Director no later than December 31, 1994:

The article examines the activities of the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment to protect the rights of persons deprived of their liberty. An analysis of the Committee's reports on the results of visits to Ukraine was made. Standards for the prevention of torture or inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment, as well as their reflection in national criminal law enforcement and enforcement, have been identified. Thus, the role of the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment in the protection of the rights of persons deprived of their liberty and the impact of its recommendations on amendments to the criminal executive legislation of Ukraine have been identified. The Committee's activities are aimed at strengthening the protection of persons deprived of their liberty against torture or inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. Based on the principle of cooperation and obligations under the Convention, the state is gradually introducing changes to national legislation in order to bring them into line with international standards. In general, there are positive changes and improvements in the conditions of detention of convicts.

During the National Sports Week XVIII held in September 2012, wrestling athletes from WestJava Province could not meet the expected performance; since they got only one gold and twobronze medals. The athletes performance usually affected by three factors; physicalcondition, technique, and mental condition. To achieve the best result, the gold medal, athletesshould have good predominant physical condition indicators, such as muscle strength,endurance, power, and flexibility. The purpose of this study is to know the physical conditionof West Javas wrestling athletes in the National Sports Week XVIII. The method used wascross-sectional descriptive study using secondary data obtained from Sports MedicineDepartment of National Sports Committee of Indonesia in Bandung. The data are chosen frompredominant physical condition indicator explained before, along with cardio-respiratoryendurance. After that, we compared the data we obtained with National Sports Committee ofIndonesias standards and categorized it specific type; less, enough, good, very good, andperfect. Male and female athletes had different category system. After analyzed, we found thatseveral predominant physical components of wrestling athletes of West Java Province inNational Sports Week XVIII had not met the requirement for good and perfect category andneeded to be improved. In conclusion, athletes should be able to get a gold medal if theirpredominant physical component achieves the good and perfect category.

During the National Sports Week XVIII held in September 2012, wrestling athletes from West Java Province could not meet the expected performance; since they got only one gold and two bronze medals. The athlete’s performance usually affected by three factors; physical condition, technique, and mental condition. To achieve the best result, the gold medal, athletes should have good predominant physical condition indicators, such as muscle strength, endurance, power, and flexibility. The purpose of this study is to know the physical condition of West Java’s wrestling athletes in the National Sports Week XVIII. The method used was a cross-sectional descriptive study using secondary data obtained from the Sports Medicine Department of the National Sports Committee of Indonesia in Bandung. The data are chosen from the predominant physical condition indicator explained before, along with cardio-respiratory endurance. After that, we compared the data we obtained with the National Sports Committee of Indonesia’s standards and categorized it specific type; less, enough, good, very good, and perfect. Male and female athletes had different category systems. After analysis, we found that several predominant physical components of wrestling athletes of West Java Province in National Sports Week XVIII had not met the requirement for the good and perfect category andneeded to be improved. In conclusion, athletes should be able to get a gold medal if their predominant physical component achieves the good and perfect category.

Wrestlers of West Java Province had not met the performance sought in the National Sports Week XVIII as they got one gold and two bronze medals. Athletes performance is affected by three factors; there are physical condition, technique, and mental condition of athlete. Athletes should have a perfect predominant physical component in order to achieve a gold medal. This study aims to know the physical condition of West Javas wrestling athletes in the National Sports Week XVIII. This study was a cross-sectional descriptive study using secondary data obtained from Sports Medicine Department of National Sports Committee of Indonesia in Bandung. The data consisted of various predominant physical components, which were muscle strength, endurance, power, and flexibility, as well as cardiorespiratory endurance. The data was compared to National Sports Committee of Indonesias standards and categorized into less, enough, good, very good, and perfect. Male athletes had several components which were categorized as less and enough; those are abdominal muscle endurance, arm and shoulder muscle endurance, and cardiorespiratory endurance; Whereas, female athletes were less and enough in abdominal muscle endurance, limb muscles strength, limb muscles power, and cardiorespiratory endurance. Several predominant physical components of wrestling athletes of West Java Province in National Sports Week XVIII had not met the requirement for good and perfect category and needed to be improved. Generally, athletes will be able to get a gold medal if their predominant physical component achieves the good and perfect category.

This paper addresses the issue of developing a widely accepted Olympics ranking scheme based upon the Olympic Game medal table published by the International Olympic Committee, since the existing lexicographic ranking and sum ranking systems are both criticized as biases. More specifically, the lexicographic ranking system is deemed as overvaluing gold medals, while the sum ranking system fails to reveal the real value of gold medals and fails to discriminate National Olympic Committees that won equal number of medals. To start, we employ a sophisticated mathematical method based upon the incenter of a convex cone to aggregate the lexicographic ranking system. Then, we consider the fact that the preferences between the lexicographic and the sum ranking systems may not be consistent across National Olympic Committees and develop a well-designed mathematical transformation to obtain interval assessment results under typical preference. The formulation of intervals is inspired by the observation that it is extremely difficult to achieve a group consensus on the exact value of weights with respect to each ranking system, since different weight elicitation methods may produce different weight schemes. Finally, regarding the derived decision making problem involving interval-valued data, this paper utilizes the Stochastic Multicriteria Acceptability Analysis to obtain a comprehensive ranking of all National Olympic Committees. Instead of determining precise weights, this work probes the weight space to guarantee each alternative getting the most preferred one. The proposed method is illustrated by presenting a new ranking of 12 National Olympic Committees participating in the London 2012 Summer Olympic Games.

The purpose of this study is to explain and describe the Strategy of the Indonesian National Sports Committee in improving the achievements of athletes in Central Kalimantan province. The type of research used in this study is descriptive with qualitative research methods. Sources of data in this study are primary data, namely the Deputy General Chair of KONI, Deputy Secretary of KONI, Division of Organization and Management, KONI staff, Athletes and Coaches. While secondary data comes from official documents related to this research such as sports medal data acquisition, and data collection techniques using interviews, observation, and documentation. The focus of his research is to get a clear picture of the Strategy of the Indonesian National Sports Committee in improving Athlete Achievements in Central Kalimantan Province. The results of this study are that the KONI Strategy in improving the achievements of athletes in Central Kalimantan Province is already good, because of the five Performance indicators there are three indicators that have gone well, Responsiveness, Responsibility, Accountability while the two indicators have not gone well are Productivity and Quality of Service

Agreement of Democratic Parties in the Years 1948-1950 – an Attempt to Consolidate the Milieu of Polish Political Immigration After his arrival to London in 1947, Stanisław Mikołajczyk undertook endeavors to form a national committee, which would be a projection of the World War II quadruple agreement, which brought together Polish Peasant Party (Polskie Stronnictwo Ludowe), Polish Socialist Party (Polska Partia Socjalistyczna), Labor Party (Stronnictwo Pracy) and National Party (Stronnictwo Narodowe). The creation of the Agreement of Democratic Parties was to be the initial step towards the future cooperation and functioning. Yet the National Party was not interested in such cooperation and the Agreement turned out to be a weak entity, unable to conduct active policy among Polish emigration. Differences between parties proved to be too big a barrier, among others regarding the question of the legality of Polish government in exile. The final blow to Mikołajczyk’s concept was the creation of Political Council by National Party, Polish Socialist Party and the Polish Liberty Movement “Independence and Democracy” (Polski Ruch Wolnościowy „Niepodległość i Demokracja”).

Present at the creation of American Studies, Daniel Aaron belongs on the short list of the academy's most learned and admired custodians of the nation's culture, for which President Obama awarded him the National Humanities Medal in 2011. That would have been close to seven decades after the inauguration of Aaron's teaching career. A president of the American Studies Association (ASA), he held the rank of Victor S. Thomas Professor of English and American Literature at Harvard, where his service included chairing its Committee on American Civilization. The lengthy span of Aaron's life in the profession, punctuated by many other honors (including the ASA's Bode-Pearson Prize), has few, if any, counterparts in duration and distinction. Such was the arc of his career and concerns that, as this necrology is intended to suggest, the field of American Studies will not see his like again.

Purpose Since the 1990s, the International Olympic Committee has offered nations more medal-winning opportunities at every Winter Games. Meanwhile, many countries are constrained by their limited financial resources to target sports strategically. The purpose of this paper is to examine the targeting approaches to Olympic Winter Sports of National Sports Agencies (NSAs), and to identify the factors they assess in the decision-making process. Design/methodology/approach The data were collected through semi-structured interviews with 11 decision makers of medal-winning NSAs at the 2014 Sochi Games. The data were then analysed with reference to strategic management in an approach which combines a resource-based view (RBV) with a market-based view (MBV) to build a competitive advantage. Findings The results show that NSAs, like firms, combine an internal analysis that reflects the RBV on resources and capabilities (e.g. athletes’ performance per sport and sport-specific elite sport system), with an external analysis of the competitive environment that reflects an MBV (e.g. sport’s medal market size and intensity of competition at Games) to target sports. Using this information, two phases were distinguished: first, the target sports are identified and finance is prioritised accordingly; second, the allocation of the nation’s resources is constantly reviewed in order to optimise it. Research limitations/implications Even though social desirability bias in the responses could not be fully excluded, the findings can help policy-makers to distinguish between the internal and external factors identified in this study, and to make more strategic decisions by combining RBV and MBV approaches to build-up their nation’s competitive advantage. Originality/value This paper models the targeting strategies of NSAs during an Olympic cycle by introducing the competitive positioning of firms to sports management.

Wrestling in Serbia has a long tradition and has had considerable accomplishments. According to the number of medals won at the Olympic Games, wrestling is the most successful sport in Serbia. The continuity of medal winning at big wrestling competitions was interrupted with the imposition of sanctions to SR Yugoslavia (1992). After the crisis that was conditioned by sport sanctions, a new 'golden age of wrestling' in Serbia started in 2007. Since then wrestlers have won 30 medals in senior category and 17 in pioneer, cadet, junior and young senior categories, at the major international championships. The wrestling club 'Partizan' triumphed in the Champion League. The key factors to the success were young talented wrestlers, development of coaching structure, organization of international competitions, financing the highest results by the state and the national Olympic committee, but also the activity and leadership of a sport official Nenad Lalović. It is natural to expect the continuity of success to be maintained, and one priority in the following period ought to be a construction of a national wrestling training centre, which would enable continuous practice, expansion of the wrestling base, implementation of scientific monitoring methods, formulation and dissemination of training methods.

Abstract In connection with the COVID-19 pandemic, all countries of the world are taking actions to minimize the spread of the virus. These actions interfere with civil rights and liberties. They particularly affect convicts who serve prison sentences, as such sentences deprive them many of their rights or significantly restrict them. Recognizing the situation of prisoners at this difficult time, in March 2020, the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture and Inhuman or Degrading Treatment (CPT) issued the Statement of principles relating to the treatment of persons deprived of their liberty in the context of the coronavirus disease (COVID-19)1, while the Subcommittee on Prevention of Torture and other Cruel, Inhuman, or Degrading Treatment or Punishment prepared Advice to States parties and national preventive mechanisms to the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) pandemic. The purpose of this paper is to determine whether our country, while taking certain actions, takes into account the recommendations contained in both aforementioned documents.

Abstract“Draft conclusion 3” of the first ILC report on the “general principles of law” expounds on two categories: general principles of law derived from national jurisdictions and those formed within the international legal system. This paper explores the drafting history of Article 38(1)(c) of the ICJ's Statute to investigate whether the Advisory Committee of Jurists, entrusted to frame a statute for the international court, had conceived the idea that, apart from domestic legal systems, the international legal framework could form general principles of law, or whether they were reluctant to endorse such an open-ended formulation which would give more liberty to judges to apply these principles as per their whims and fancies. The paper argues that the dual categorization of the general principles of law by the ILC has no substantive roots in the preparatory history of the ICJ's Statute and therefore it is purely an innovation by the ILC.

This medal is awarded by the New Zealand Plant Protection Society to honour those who have made exceptional contributions to plantprotection in New Zealand in the widest sense. The medal is awarded for outstanding services to plant protection, whether through research,education, implementation or leadership. In 2016, the New Zealand Plant Protection Medal was awarded to Dr Rob Beresford who is one of New Zealand’s most experienced and versatile plant pathologists. Rob started his career in science with an MSc Hons, 1st class, in Auckland in 1978 and was appointed to DSIR Plant Diseases Division at Lincoln in 1979. He was awarded a National Research Advisory Council Postgraduate Research Fellowship to undertake PhD studies at Long Ashton Research Station in the UK from1982 to 1985, returning to Lincoln in 1986. Those studies kicked off a long career in epidemiology and today Rob is New Zealand’s pre-eminent plant disease epidemiologist. For 30 years, Rob has been New Zealand’s strongest advocate for the use of weather-based disease prediction for developing practicaldisease control strategies, particularly to reduce the economic, environmental and market residue impacts of fungicide use. By understanding and modelling relationships between pathogen biology and ecology and weather, Rob has translated complex correlations between biological and physical factorsinto simple practical tools for growers to use for disease control. To date, these have included decision support tools for apple scab, downy mildew in onions, botrytis in grapes and more recently Psa in kiwifruit. He has also developed prediction models for climatic risk of invasive pathogens (potato wart disease and myrtle rust) and for the impacts of climate change on crop diseases. Recognising the importance of climate and weather in affecting plant diseases, Rob has, for many years, championed a network of weather stations in the key horticultural districts throughout New Zealand to generate data for the decision-support tools. It has been a struggle to keep the network running against shortages of funding and the frequent need to re-assert the value of the network to New Zealand horticulture. Rob has built a team of equally committed colleagues who share this understanding and, through tenacity and persistence, have recently achieved an upgrade of the entire network to internet-based communication systems. It is through his close collaborations over many years with the software company HortPlus that his decision support tools have been delivered to the commercial arena. Rob was a member of the New Zealand team that argued the case at the World Trade Organisation for the easing of restrictions on New Zealand apples entering Australia. Rob’s superior skills in interpreting climate data, in this case Australian data, in terms of pathogen survival, establishment and spread, and his clarity in presenting the results were instrumental in the success of that case in 2010. In parallel with Rob’s epidemiological strategy to reduce fungicide use is his interest in the threat of pathogens developing resistance to fungicides. Rob leads research to identify resistance threats to fungicides and also provides liaison between grower associations and agrochemical companies to design and implement robust resistance-management strategies. His focus on resistance started in 2005 when he published updated management strategies for all nine of the then available fungicide groups for the New Zealand Plant Protection Society (NZPPS). In 2007, he re-established the New Zealand Committee on Pesticide Resistance (NZCPR) (which had been in abeyance for 10 years) and chaired the committee’s work on fungicides, insecticides and herbicides from 2007 to 2012. He stepped aside to become NZCPR Science Advisor in 2012 so he could focus on resistance research. Following devastating disease outbreaks of apple scab (Venturia ineaqualis) in the pipfruit industry in 2009, Rob initiated a research programme with Pipfruit New Zealand that showed the cause of the outbreaks to be resistance to two groups of fungicides in use at the time. He has recently coordinated resistance strategy updates for botrytis affecting the wine industry, for summer fruit diseases and is currently leading a programme to monitor resistance of grape powdery mildew to key groups of fungicides. Rob was awarded the 2014 Plant & Food Research Chairman’s Award for his work on fungicide resistance. Rob is an effective communicator at all levels from heavy science to grower forums and is always willing to share his time, skills and knowledge. He has been involved with undergraduate lecturing for many years and has successfully supervised several PhDs. NZPP Medal recipients for the previous five years:2015: Gary Barker2014: -2013: Andrew Hodson2012: Margaret Dick2011: Jim Walker

IntroductionTransgender identity is poorly accepted in France, and data on living conditions and the daily difficulties transgender people encounter are scarce. This lack of data reinforces their invisibility in social life, contributes to their stigmatisation and probably increases the burden of HIV infection, especially for HIV-positive transgender people (TRHIV). The main objective of the community-based research study ANRS Trans&HIV is to identify personal and social situations of vulnerability in TRHIV, the obstacles they encounter in terms of access to and retention in medical care, and their gender affirmation and HIV care needs.Methods and analysisANRS Trans&HIV is a national, comprehensive, cross-sectional survey of all TRHIV currently being followed in HIV care units in France. TRHIV women are exclusively included in the quantitative component, and TRHIV men in the qualitative component. Data are collected by community-based interviewers and will be analysed to explore patient care pathways and living conditions in the TRHIV population with regard to gender affirmation and HIV. Data collection began in October 2020 and should be completed in December 2021. The statistical analyses techniques used will be adapted to each of the study’s objectives and to the type of data collected (cross-sectional (questionnaires) and retrospective (biographical trajectory)). The study’s results will provide a greater understanding of TRHIV health needs in order to suggest possible national recommendations for comprehensive HIV and gender affirmation medical care.Ethics and disseminationANRS Trans&HIV was approved by Inserm’s Ethical Evaluation Committee (no 20-694 on 12 May 2020) and is registered with the National Commission on Informatics and Liberty under number 2518030720. Potential participants are informed about the study through an information note provided by their attending HIV physician. All results published in peer-reviewed journals will be disseminated to the HIV transgender community, institutional stakeholders and healthcare providers.Trial registration numberNCT04849767.

Analyzing sports policy in Papua in the formation of the XX PON contingent is something that must be done because the achievements of Papua Province at the national level at the national sports week (PON) event, which is held every 4 years, will be increasingly competitive. This study aims to analyze sports policy in Papua in the formation of the Papua contingent at the XX national sports week (PON). Using qualitative methods with data collection techniques interviews, observation and documentation. With the policy analysis methodology used in problem solving: problem formulation, forecasting, recommendations, monitoring, and evaluation. The participants were the Indonesian National Sports Committee (KONI) Papua, the Papua Sports and Youth Office (DISORDA), the Papua Provincial Sports Branch Management, coaches and athletes totaling 22 people. The results of this analysis found that the policies taken by Papua Province in the formation of the XX PON contingent related to the recruitment of Papuan domiciled athletes, recruitment of athletes domiciled outside Papua (contract athletes) and training centers inside and outside Papua aim to determine the medal acquisition target, improve achievement and become a good host. The results of the study concluded that the province of Papua has a policy, namely the Papua Governor Regulation Number 29 of 2020 concerning the Description of Duties and Functions of the Papua Provincial Sports and Youth Office and in the stage of drafting a Special Regional Regulation (PERDASUS) of Sports and the use of athlete mutation regulations in the framework of PON contained in KONI Decree Number 56 of 2010 as an attitude of primordialism to achieve the successful achievement target of the host of the XX Papua PON. Through this research can provide positive input for the Papua provincial government to realize the Sports PERDASUS so that the selection of potential athletes in Papua is managed with a planned, systematic, measurable and sustainable sports coaching pattern. Keywords: Sports Policy, Papua Contingent, PON XX

This study aims to assess the preparation of East Java Sport Committee (KONI) to come of Multi Event National Sports Competition (PON) XIX-2016, held every 4 years. The focus of this research can be presented: 1) The process of making / designing planning East Java Puslatda 100/III; 2) The process of implementation of East Java Puslatda; 3) Compability planning and implementation of program the East Java; 4) The results of program performance East Java Puslatda East Java Puslatda 100/III. The collection data in this research was conducted through observation, study documents, interview and participation, because the researchers directly involved making planning, implementation and evaluation in East Java Puslatda 100/III. From the data are then analyzed using the CIPP methods (context, input, process and product). The results showed: 1) The East Java Puslatda 100/III for planning ideal and detail, then its implementation in first year (2013) and the second year (2014) seeking forms and in 2015 the implementation of Puslatda started in accordance with the plan expected; 4) achievement East Java Puslatda 100/III attributed the gold medal in the National Championship and PON XIX-2016 for four years showed a graph continues to rise. One model of long-term planning has been developed and implemented KONI East Java, East Java Puslatda 100 models in dealing with the planning for four years is a new innovation in preparation following the PON, and the results are relatively good. Besides preparations with a long time, which must be considered is continuity and conduciveness Puslatda organizers should be good and comfortable conditions in terms of the implementation process Puslatda must be in a state that is ideal both administratively and operationally supported and the optimal approach of sport science .

The article examines penitentiary probation as a mechanism to prevent the commission of repeated criminal offenses. The author paid attention to the analysis of international and national legislation, which enshrines the concept of penitentiary probation and the procedure for its implementation in relation to persons sentenced to restriction of liberty and imprisonment. The adoption of the Law of Ukraine “On Probation” and the establishment of a probation service in Ukraine served to introduce one of the types of probation - penitentiary, as one of the requirements of international organizations. In particular, the implementation of Recommendations CM \ Rec (2010) of the Committee of Ministers to member states on the Council of Europe Rules on Probation concerned the purpose of probation by preventing and reducing crime. To achieve this goal, namely to reduce the commission of repeated criminal offenses, it is necessary to establish a positive relationship with the offender and provide social assistance by returning him to public life. According to the Law of Ukraine “Of Probation”, the main purpose of probation is to prepare persons serving a sentence of restriction of liberty or imprisonment for a certain period of time for release for the purpose of employment of such persons after release at their chosen place of residence. Penitentiary probation should ensure that the convict is provided with a range of social services that will prepare him for release from prison with further adaptation and return to society as a full member. Restoration of the social status of the released person and provision of psychological assistance will help prevent the commission of new criminal offenses. To ensure the restoration of this status, the relevant authorities must clarify the need of the convict after his release from prison. In particular, if necessary, provide social assistance, which may be manifested in the provision of housing, employment, assistance in obtaining a profession, recovery of documents, as well as the provision of psychological assistance. The above factors will serve to assist the released person in social and material adaptation in society, which in turn will help prevent the commission of new criminal offenses.

The results of historical research sometimes need updating – especially if some valuable new historical resources turn up. This is often the case of 20th century history, where iconographic materials are important, which are being gradually submitted for publication by families. This way valuable information can be revealed about, for example, the hero of this article. Stefan Hubicki is an extremely interesting person – a soldier by choice, a publicist by temper, a doctor by profession. He was a versatilely gifted, openminded man, descended from a family of strong independence traditions. It was at the beginning of 20th century when he was imprisoned by tsarism for subversive activity. During the Great War in the Russian army and later in Polish military formations, he employed all his talents to the effort of rebuilding the independent Polish Republic. He was fighting as a soldier, then as a French intelligence agent in Bolshevik Russia, then working as a publicist and politician in Polish National Committee in Paris. Since spring 1919, back in Poland, in frontlines of border wars he helped soldiers as the chief of sanitary service. For his service he received the highest military medal of honour Virtuti Militari. In meantime his personal life rolled on in the background – highly complicated, because he was in danger of being convicted for bigamy. He was a colourful person, rising above the limitations of his era. Despite of his inconspicuous looks and average height he possessed a leadership charisma.

John Hartwell is Head of the Resources Division in the Department of Resources, Energy and Tourism, Canberra Australia. The Resources Division provides advice to the Australian Government on policy issues, legislative changes and administrative matters related to the petroleum industry, upstream and downstream and the coal and minerals industries. In addition to his divisional responsibilities, he is the Australian Commissioner for the Australia/East Timor Joint Petroleum Development Area and Chairman of the National Oil and Gas Safety Advisory Committee. He also chairs two of the taskforces, Clean Fossil Energy and Aluminium, under the Asia Pacific Partnership for Clean Development and Climate (AP6). He serves on two industry and government leadership groups delivering reports to the Australian Government, strategies for the oil and gas industry and framework for the uranium industry. More recently he led a team charged with responsibility for taking forward the Australian Government’s proposal to establish a global carbon capture and storage institute. He is involved in the implementation of a range of resource related initiatives under the Government’s Industry Action Agenda process, including mining and technology services, minerals exploration and light metals. Previously he served as Deputy Chairman of the Snowy Mountains Council and the Commonwealth representative to the Natural Gas Pipelines Advisory Committee. He has occupied a wide range of positions in the Australian Government dealing with trade, commodity, and energy and resource issues. He has worked in Treasury, the Department of Trade, Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade and the Department of Primary Industries and Energy before the Department of Industry, Science and Resources. From 1992–96 he was a Minister Counsellor in the Australian Embassy, Washington, with responsibility for agriculture and resource issues and also served in the Australian High Commission, London (1981–84) as the Counsellor/senior trade relations officer. He holds a MComm in economics, and Honours in economics from the University of New South Wales, Australia. Prior to joining the Australian Government, worked as a bank economist. He was awarded a public service medal in 2005 for his work on resources issues for the Australian Government.

After a long illness borne with much grace and dignity, Iain MacIntyre died in London on 18 September 2008. He had led a most distinguished career over five decades as a major figure in the field of calcium-regulating hormones and bone metabolism, with his many scientific achievements marked by originality as well as biological and medical importance. Among his many accomplishments were the co-discovery with Harold Copp of the hormone calcitonin, whose glandular origin, structure and biological and medical functions he defined. Iain also was the first to isolate and sequence, with colleagues, the novel human neuropeptide calcitonin gene-related peptide, demonstrating its role as a potent vasodilator. Subsequently Iain defined the multiple phenotypic consequences attributable to nitric oxide production by different enzymes in a tissue-specific fashion. A major educational contribution was in conceiving and organizing an important biennial series of international endocrine meetings held between 1967 and 1981. These were memorable occasions, at which calcium metabolism and bone metabolism featured strongly, but so too did the latest topics in endocrinology. The meetings featured outstanding national and international speakers from many fields, and pushed the participants to think beyond the confines of their immediate interests. The published proceedings of those conferences are well worth re-reading, with much content that was prophetic and much that provides genuinely valuable history. These meetings played a very influential international role and had a seminal inspiring influence on the international careers of many young researchers who have since achieved major distinction. Iain was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1996, served on a Sectional Committee, and was awarded the Buchanan Medal of the Society in 2006.

Within the conception of the Sochi Linguistic & Rhetorical School the paper discusses the diglossia of the Soviet discourse employed in the former USSR, distinguishes official and personal registers as well as shows their difference drawing on Joseph Stalin’s speech of 31 January 1944 to the Politburo of the Central Committee of the All-Union Communist Party of Bolsheviks concerning Alexander Dovzhenko’s screenplay “Ukraine in Flames” and in the writer’s diaries. The comparison reveals a few specific linguistic rhetorical features of cognitive communicative type ontologically characteristic of the Soviet linguistic personality’s communicative cognitive activity in a totalitarian state. The cognitive features of Stalin’s individual discourse representing the official register and his system of argumentation rest on the significative component of linguistic units, arguments from literature to illustrate the postulates and dogmas of Marxist-Leninist doctrine forming the foundation of the Soviet discourse. It is also found that the official register represented by Stalin’s speech is characterized by the following features: 1) repetition; 2) sarcastic remarks; 3) dramatic mutually exclusive contrast of mental spaces (“our own, true in the last resort” and destructed, represented by the opponent’s discourse); 4) rigidly adversarial characteristic of the alternative linguistic rhetorical worldview; 5) appeal to the Soviet collective linguistic personality’s opinion; 6) ideological translation from one subdiscourse into the other, from personal register into the official one; 7) biased retelling of the discourse regarded as anti-Soviet; 8) appeal to the facts lacking in the discourse under criticism; 9) “ideological editing” taking on the form of peremptory lecturing with consequences threatening the liberty of the person under criticism. The personal register of the Soviet Ukrainian writer Dovzhenko is characterized by a broad interpretation of reality devoid of the “Marxist-Leninist blinds” and a more objective interpretation of the world due to a bigger ratio of denotative references (“evidential arguments” like “I say” and “I heard” etc) and communicative cognitive activity relative to two axiological hierarchies: national and Christian, i.e. the dominance of human values over class morality. It is proved that Dovzhenko’s screenplay was criticized within Stalin’s official register for its deviation from the cognitive schemas and the model of the Soviet discourse, for the focus on Ukraine and its citizens rather than on class struggle.

This article describes the distinguished career of Andrew M. Sessler, the visionary former director of the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory (LBNL), one of the most influential accelerator physicists, and a strong, dedicated human-rights activist. Andy died on 17 April 2014 from cancer at age 85. He grew up in New York City, and attended Harvard (BA in Mathematics, 1949) and then Columbia (PhD in Physics, 1953.) After an NSF postdoc at Cornell with Hans Bethe and a stint on the faculty at the Ohio State University in 1954–59, he joined the Lawrence Radiation Laboratory (now LBNL) in 1959, and spent the remainder of his career there. Although Andy left his mark on several areas of physics, including nuclear structure theory, elementary-particle physics, and many-body problems, his lasting and most important contributions came from his efforts in accelerator physics and engineering, to which he devoted most of his life's work. In collaboration with his colleagues of the legendary Midwestern Universities Research Association, he developed theories for the RF acceleration process and the collective instability phenomena, helping to realize the colliding-beam accelerators with which most of the high-energy-physics discoveries of the last few decades have been made. His work in connection with the free-electron-laser (FEL) amplifier for high-power microwave generation constructed at the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory anticipated the optical-guiding and the self-amplified spontaneous-emission principles, upon which the success of the X-ray FELs as the fourth-generation light sources is based. Throughout his career Andy made major contributions to issues related to the impact of science and technology on society. He helped usher in a new era of research on energy efficiency and sustainable-energy technology and was instrumental in building the research agendas in those areas for the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) and later the Department of Energy. With a lifelong interest in promoting the human rights of scientists, Andy was instrumental in initiating the American Physical Society's Committee on International Freedom of Scientists and in raising funds to endow the APS Andrei Sakharov Prize. He and Moishe Pripstein cofounded Scientists for Sakharov, Orlov, and Sharansky; the group's protests along with those of other groups led to the release of the three Soviet dissidents. More importantly, Andy's voice and example became a major force in helping call the world's attention to the plight of scientists trapped in places where their human rights and their ability to do science were severely compromised. Andy received many honors, including the AEC's Ernest Orlando Lawrence Award in 1970, the APS's Dwight Nicholson Medal in 1994, and the Enrico Fermi Award from the US Department of Energy in 2014.

AbstractThe rise of online learning over the past few decades has raised fundamental questions about the kinds of “spaces” and “places” this mode of education creates. Do they support meaningful exchanges? Can they advance educational equity, access, and community-building? Are they comparable to in-person classroom experiences? The recent COVID pandemic and the global turn toward virtual learning in response have brought such questions into sharp relief. These were the questions and contextual factors that brought distinguished historian Carroll Pursell and international educational technology authority Toru Iiyoshi together for this policy dialogue. Their conversation takes readers on a wide-ranging discussion about the interplay between education, technology, and society writ large. And they offer insights into the past, present, and likely future of education in an era of accelerating technological change.Carroll Pursell is the Adeline Barry Davee Distinguished Professor of History (Emeritus) at Case Western Reserve University and Distinguished Honorary Professor of History at the Australian National University. He held faculty positions at the University of California at Santa Barbara and served as the Andrew W. Mellon Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at Lehigh University. Pursell is a fellow of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS), and former president of both the International Committee for the History of Technology (ICOHTEC) and the Society for the History of Technology (SHOT), which also awarded him its Leonardo da Vinci Medal for outstanding contributions to the history of technology.Toru Iiyoshi is professor and director at the Center for the Promotion of Excellence in Higher Education at Kyoto University. Previously, he was a senior scholar and director of the Knowledge Media Laboratory at the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. He also served as senior strategist in the Office of Educational Innovation and Technology at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Iiyoshi is a member of the World Economic Forum's Global Agenda Council on Technology and Education and past recipient of the Outstanding Practice Award in Instructional Development and the Robert M. Gagne Award for Research in Instructional Design from the Association for Educational Communications and Technology.HEQ Policy Dialogues are, by design, intended to promote an informal, free exchange of ideas between scholars. At the end of the exchange, we offer a list of references to readers who wish to follow up on sources relevant to the discussion.

IntroductionA well-established principle is that informed consent is an obligatory requirement for any medical intervention; a patient’s decision-making capacity to consent is a requirement for legally valid consent. Some individuals may be unable to give valid informed consent due to their limited mental capacity. In such cases, laws permit substitute decision-making and involvement of the patient as far as possible (Art.6, Oviedo Convention). National laws of European countries allow persons with mental health problems to be deprived of their liberty and undergo involuntary treatment, namely treatment without a patient’s informed consent, in certain circumstances. Procedural safeguards must be secured, and a court must review its lawfulness (FRA, 2012). The legality of involuntary treatment is highly debated by various audiences (CRPD committee, CoE bodies). In Latvia and other countries, the requirement to assess a person’s decision-making capacity in the application of involuntary treatment is not required.ObjectivesThis study was conducted to reveal the role of a person’s decision-making capacity to consent to the treatment of mental disorders in cases where involuntary treatment was approved by courts.MethodsA retrospective case law study method was applied. Anonymised decisions of Latvian courts at www.manas.tiesas.lv in cases of involuntary treatment in Latvian adult psychiatric hospitals since 2010 were collected and analysed. The content of decisions concerning persons’ decision-making capacity and applicable legal regulations were studied.ResultsThe case law revealed that the decision-making capacity had not been addressed regularly and in detail. Latvian law does not require an assessment of capacity, and as a result, the courts do also not require any data. Some elements of decision-making abilities, such as the limited ability to comprehend or process information, are mentioned in the decisions of courts.ConclusionsThere is a need to address the significance of decision-making capacity in the application of patients’ rights law in clinical and legal settings when involuntary treatment is suggested or applied. There is a need to amend the laws justifying the limitations of patients’ rights, particularly concerning involuntary treatment.AcknowledgementsThis paper has been prepared within the research project “Towards a human rights approach for mental health patients with a limited capacity: A legal, ethical and clinical perspective”, No. lzp-2020/1-0397 and the project “Strengthening of the capacity of doctoral studies at the University of Latvia within the framework of the new doctoral model, identification No.8.2.2.0/20/I/006”Disclosure of InterestNone Declared

<p><strong>Resumen</strong></p><p>La Comisión Interamericana de Derechos Humanos (CIDH) y el Comité Internacional de la Cruz Roja (CICR) recomiendan las condiciones en las cuales debe desarrollarse la detención de las personas privadas de la libertad, incluyendo las referidas al suministro de alimentación, permitiendo que sobre esa base se constituyan las normas, procesos y procedimientos en los Establecimientos de Reclusión del Orden Nacional (ERON). En Colombia, y en muchos otros países, estos escenarios de producción de alimentación resultan insuficientes; entre las variables a considerar se encuentran la infraestructura física, el tipo de contratación, los hábitos alimentarios regionales por la procedencia heterogénea de la población interna y muchas veces sus preferencias, las patologías crónicas que se manejan, la seguridad en el ingreso de materias primas y el suministro de la alimentación al interior de los ERON. Es importante mencionar que cualquier brote de enfermedad trasmitida por alimentos (ETA) puede desencadenar una epidemia que se complica aún más por la situación de reclusión. Otras dificultades son la comercialización no permitida, el ingreso de alimentos y la conservación de estos en las celdas, lo cual puede ocasionar la pérdida de calidad higiénico-sanitaria y pone en peligro la salud de esta población.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Palabras clave: </strong>Alimentación colectiva; Derechos humanos; Prisiones; Enfermedades transmitidas por alimentos (DeCS).</p><p> </p><p><strong>Summary</strong></p><p>The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) recommend the conditions under which the detention of persons deprived of liberty must be developed, including those relating to food supply. This establishes the basis for the standards, processes and procedures in National Order Detention Facilities (ERON, in its Spanish acronym). In Colombia, and in many other countries, these scenarios of food production are insufficient; among the variables to consider are the physical infrastructure, contract types, regional food habits due to the heterogeneous origin of the inmate population and often their preferences, chronic pathologies that are handled, the security for raw materials entrance and food supply within the ERON. It is noteworthy that any outbreak of foodborne disease (FBD) can trigger an epidemic that is further complicated by the situation in prison. Other difficulties are non-permitted marketing, food entrance and its conservation in the cells, which can produce loss of sanitary quality and endanger the health of this population.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Keywords: </strong>Collective feeding; Human rights; Prisons; Foodborne diseases (MeSH).</p>

Abstract SYNTHESIS OF THE FIRST INTERNATIONAL SYMPOSIUM FOR RESEARCH IN COMPARATIVE CRIMINOLOGY Introduction At the beginning of the development of the social sciences there was a considerable vogue for comparative research. A long period of empirical studies and almost total preoccupation with methodological problems followed. Once again, however, psychology, political science, sociology, and above all anthropology, have taken up the thread of this tradition, and the bibliography in these fields is becoming ever more abundant. The study of deviance, of various manifestations of criminality, and of social reaction against crime are, however, noticeably missing in the picture, even though there is nothing in the nature of criminology which precludes the development of comparative research. To many research workers in criminology, the time seemed ripe to take up the comparative tradition once again. Two imperatives were considered : the generalization of norms of deviance which are tied to the standard of living set by industrial civilization, thus putting the problem of criminality in a global light ; and, second, the development and standardization of methods of studying these phenomena, drawing on the experience of allied disciplines. The response of the participants in this Symposium and the results of their discussions were not unexpected. A consensus was arrived as to the problems it was thought important to study, and agreement was reached about the strategies of research to be undertaken. Priorities, however, were not established since too much depends on the availability of research teams, funds, etc. But the broad, overall look at the main problems in comparative criminology will, hopefully, open a new chapter in the history of crimino-logical research and in our continuing search for knowledge of man and society. The brief resume which follows should give the reader an idea of the extent of the problems tackled. The detailed proceedings of the Symposium will be published at a later date, in mimeographed form. Sectors of research proposed In a sense, this Symposium was prepared by all the participants. The organizers had requested that each person invited prepare a memorandum setting out the problems in comparative criminology which he considered to be most important. The compilation of their replies, reported to the plenary session at the opening of the Symposium, produced the following results : Summary of suggestions for research activities Note : In all that follows, it should be understood that all of these topics should be studied in a cross-cultural or international context. 1) Definitions and concepts : a) Social vs legal concept of deviance ; b) Distinction between political and criminal crimes ; c) The law : a moral imperative or a simple norm ; d) The concepts used in penal law : how adequate ? e.g. personality of criminal ; e) Who are the sinners in different cultures and at different times. 2) Procedures : a) Working concepts of criminal law and procedure ; b) Differentiating between factors relating to the liability-finding process and the sentencing process ; c) Behavioural manifestations of the administration of criminal justice ; d) Judicial decisions as related to the personality of the judges and of the accused ; e) Sentencing in the cross-national context (2 proposals) ; f) In developing countries, the gap between development of the legal apparatus and social behaviour ; g) Determination of liability ; h) The problem of definition and handling of dangerous offenders ; i) Decision-making by the sentencing judges, etc. (2 proposals) ; ;) Medical vs penal committals ; k) Law-enforcement, policing. 3) Personnel : a) Professionalization in career patterns ; b) Criteria for personnel selection ; c) Greater use of female personnel. 4) Causation. Situations related to criminality : a) How international relations and other external factors affect crime ; 6) Hierarchy of causes of crime ; c) Migrants. Minorities in general ; d) Relation to socio-economic development in different countries ; e) A biological approach to criminal subcultures, constitutional types, twin studies, etc. ; f) Cultural and social approach : norms of moral judgment, ideals presented to the young, etc. ; g) Effect of social change : crime in developing countries, etc. (6 proposals) ; h) Effects of mass media, rapid dissemination of patterns of deviant behaviour (2 proposals). 5) Varieties of crime and criminals : a) Traffic in drugs ; b) Prison riots ; c) Violence particularly in youth (7 proposals) ; d) Dangerousness ; e) Relation to the rights of man (including rights of deviants); f) Female crime (2 proposals) ; g) Prostitution ; i) The mentally ill offender ; ;) Cultural variations in types of crime ; k) Organized crime ; /) Use of firearms ; m) Gambling ; n) Victims and victimology. 6) Treatment : evaluation : a) Social re-adaptation of offenders ; b) Statistical research on corrections, with possible computerization of data ; c) Comparisons between prisons and other closed environments ; d) Extra-legal consequences of deprivation of liberty ; e) Rehabilitation in developing countries ; f ) Criteria for evaluation of programs of correction ; g) Biochemical treatment (2 proposals) ; i) Differential treatment of different types of offense. Evaluation ; /) Prisons as agencies of treatment ; k) Effects of different degrees of restriction of liberty ; /) Environments of correctional institutions ; m) Study of prison societies ; n) Crime as related to the total social system. 7) Research methodology : a) Publication of what is known regarding methodology ; b) Methods of research ; c) Culturally-comparable vs culturally-contrasting situations ; d) Development of a new clearer terminology to facilitate communication ; e) Actual social validity of the penal law. 8) Statistics : epidemiology : a) Need for comparable international statistics ; standardized criteria (3 proposals) ; b) Difficulties. Criminologists must collect the data themselves. 9) Training of research workers : Recruiting and training of « com-paratists ». 10) Machinery : Committee of co-ordination. Discussions The discussions at the Symposium were based on these suggestions, the main concentration falling on problems of manifestations of violence in the world today, the phenomenon of student contestation, and on human rights and the corresponding responsibilities attached thereto. Although the participants did not come to definite conclusions as to the respective merits of the problems submitted for consideration, they did discuss the conditions under which comparative studies of these problems should be approached, the techniques appropriate to obtaining valid results, and the limitations on this type or work. Four workshops were established and studied the various problems. The first tackled the problems of the definition of the criteria of « danger » represented by different type of criminals ; the problem of discovering whether the value system which underlies the Human Rights Declaration corresponds to the value system of today's youth; the problem of the treatment of criminals ; of female criminality ; and, finally, of violence in the form of individual and group manifestations. The second workshop devoted its main consideration to the revolt of youth and to organized crime, also proposing that an international instrument bank of documentation and information be established. The third workshop considered problems of theory : how the police and the public view the criminal ; the opportunity of making trans-cultural comparisons on such subjects as arrest, prison, etc. ; and the role of the media of information in the construction of value systems. The fourth workshop blazed a trail in the matter of methodology appropriate to research in comparative criminology. The period of discussions which followed the report of the four workshops gave rise to a confrontation between two schools of thought within the group of specialists. The question arose as to whether the problem of student contestation falls within the scope of the science of criminology. Several experts expressed the opinion that criminologists ought not to concern themselves with a question which really belongs in the realm of political science. On the other hand, the majority of the participants appeared to feel that the phenomenon of student contestation did indeed belong in the framework of criminological research. One of the experts in particular took it upon himself to be the spokesman of this school of thought. There are those, he said, who feel that criminology should confine itself and its research to known criminality, to hold-ups, rape, etc. However, one should not forget that penal law rests on political foundations, the legality of power, a certain moral consensus of the population. Today, it is exactly this « legitimate » authority that is being contested. Is it not to be expected, therefore, that criminology should show interest in all sociological phenomena which have legal and criminal implications ? Contestation and violence have consequences for the political foundations of penal law, and therefore are fit subjects for the research of the criminologist. International Centre {or Comparative Criminology The First International Symposium for Research in Comparative Criminology situated itself and its discussions within the framework and in the perspectives opened by the founding of the International Centre for Comparative Criminology. The Centre is sponsored jointly by the University of Montreal and the International Society for Criminology, with headquarters at the University of Montreal. As one of the participants emphasized, criminologists need a place to retreat from the daily struggle, to meditate, to seek out and propose instruments of research valid for the study of problems common to several societies. Viewing the facts as scientists, we are looking for operational concepts. Theoreticians and research workers will rough out the material and, hopefully, this will inspire conferences and symposiums of practitioners, jurists, sociologists, penologists, and other specialists. Above all, it will give common access to international experience, something which is lacking at present both at the level of documentation and of action. A bank of instruments of method- ology in the field of comparative criminology does not exist at the present time. The Centre will undertake to compile and analyse research methods used in scientific surveys, and it will establish such an instrument bank. It will also gather and analyse information pertaining to legislative reforms now in progress or being contemplated in the field of criminal justice. Through the use of computers, the Centre will be able to put these two projects into effect and make the results easily accessible to research workers, and to all those concerned in this field. The participants at the Symposium were given a view of the extent of the problems envisaged for research by the future Centre. It is hoped that this initiative will be of concrete use to research workers, private organizations, public services and governments at many levels, and in many countries.

The social and political changes in Poland led to abolition of Realsozialismus which is now being replaced with a democratic country governed by Rechtostaat (Art. 1 of the Constitution) from aspirations after national freedom and respect of human rights in public life. The problem of protection of individual freedom made itself particularly felt here; it is also subject of the present paper which discusses the protection of individual subjectivity in the light or the institutions of arrest and detention awaiting trial. Until quite recently, Poland was one of the many Communist countries where human rights were violated much too often, also on the occasion of arrest and detention awaiting trial. Many factors were conductive to this situation, such as faulty legislation; inadequate socjal consciousness; depreciation of the authorities, law and other norms; prevalence of repressiveness in dealing with social pathologies; and absence of social control of the activity of law enforcement agencies, the police and prison staff in particular. But the weakness of legal protection of individual resulted also from a strong relation of the activities of practically all governemental and social bodies those dealing with prosecution and investigation as well as administration of justice included, to politics. This political nature of functioning of those agencies, resulting monopolistic power of the Communist party, led to a limitation of the independance of the judiciary. The adoption of new political principles of Polish State and election of the new Parliament (on June 4, 1989), together with formaion of the non-Communist Cabinet, created the conditions for a new criminal policy based step by step on European standards. The institutions of arrest and detention awaiting trial well illustrate the pathology of functioning of the agencies of legal order and the direction of changes taking place in criminal policy. They also demonstrate a specific paradox; the Polish people’s great devotion to freedom and the simultaneous unfeeling tramling of that freedom. The two institutions have been discussed from the viewpoint of protection of human rights on both the normative plane and in the practice of the years 1980–1990. Arrest is one of the forms of coercion which consists in a short-term deprivation of liberty. The Polish legal system provides for procedural, preventive and administrative arrest. Each of these types has a separate legal regulation (procedural arrest, the Act of 19 April 1969 – Code of criminal procedure; preventive arrest, the Act of 6 June 1990 on the police and another Act bearing that same date on State Protection Office, together with their executory acts; and administrative arrest, the Act of 28 October 1982 on education to sobriety and control of alcoholism). Moreover, each type of arrest is to serve different aims (procedural arrest, protection of propriety of criminal proceedings; preventive arrest, protectton of order and public safety, human life and health, and property; and administrative arrest, control of alcoholism). Also different are the conditions of arrest, the agencies authorized to apply it, and the period for which a person can be detained. The present authors focus mainly on preventive arrest related to the administrative function of the police as guardian of order. That form was particularly abused and human rights were often violated in the course of its execution. Preventive arrest has recently undergone significant changes both in the normative sphere and in practice. As compared to the former one, its present regulation: 1. defines its legal grounds with greater accuracy; 2. broadens the detainee’s rights; and 3. introduced judicial review. This has contributed to the curbing of arbitrary police activities in this sphere. Duration of arrest is specified in the Constitution (Art. 87) and in the provision of Art. 207 of the code of criminal procedure. It cannot be londer than 48 hours from the moment of detention, and 24 hours in the case of administrative arrest (Art. 40 of the act on education to sobriety and control of alcoholism). Violations of these provisions have so far been frequent. In the case of procedural and preventive arrest, the rights of the detainee are the same. According to the valid provisions, the detainee has the following rights among others: the right to be informed in writing as to the time and reasons of arrest; the right to be advised as to the possibility of complaining to the court against the application of that measure, and to the public prosecutor against the way of its execution: the right to health care. The catalogue of the detainee’s rights is insufficient: e.g. it does not contain the right, to legal assistance (conseul). What particularly impairs the protection of the detainee’s personal interests is the absence of by-laws concerning the execution of arrest in the police house of detention, as the duplicated set of provisions called ,,By-laws for Detainees”, introduced by an order of the Chief of Civic Militia in 1959, hardly comes up to the standards. The provisions now in force have broadened the range of legal means of vindication of his rights that are at the detainee’s disposal. Particularly notable here is the reintroduction of the institution of habeas corpus. Namely, the detainee has been granted the right to complain to the court against arrest (Art. 207 point ”a,, of the Code of criminal procedure) and to the public prosecutor against the way of execution of arrest (Art. 15.7 of the Act on the police). If the arrest has been obviously unjustified, the detainee is due indemnity from the Treasury and monetary compensation of moral injury (Art. 487 of the Code of criminal procedure); the same concerns the situation where he has suffered damage or injury as a result of an improper execution of arest (Art.Art. 417-419 of the Civil code). Besides, the detainee may approach the court with a claim in virtue of protection of his personal interests (Art.Art. 23 and 24 of the civil code). In the latter half of 1990, arrest was executed in 798 police houses of detention all over the country, that is fewer by a whole 71,7 per cent as compared to 1989. The recent changes have made it possible to abolish the division of houses of detention into categories (of which there used to be three according to the duration of detention). The number of arrests amounted to over 500,000 a year at times (with the peak of 572,220 in 1982 – see Table 1). Starting from 1988, it gradually went down to nearly one-third of its original value which reflects above all the general liberalization of the police approach towards crime and other deviations. In the period under analysis, the living conditions in the police jails were – and still are primitive and many a time offensive to human dignity. This has been confirmed by the present author’s own study and two surveys of those jails carried out by the National Ombudsperson. An acute problem is the right to apply constraint during and upon detention. It is regulated by provisions of the police Act and an Ordinance of the Council of Ministere of 17 September 1990 which specifies the situations, conditions and ways in which direct coercion can be used by the police. Without questioning the grounds for such coercion, not only the legal conditions of its application but also the faults or even abuses in this sphere have been pointed out. What the authors find the most severe violation of human dignity are neither humiliating conditions of isolation nor illicit prolongation of detention but first and foremost beating of a person after he has surrendered to the power of enforcement officers. Cases of beating have again started growing in number this year (as has been found by the Helsinki Committee in PoIand and the National Ombudsperson). The activities of the public prosecutor’s office in this sphere have been criticised in the article. The paper also discusses the consequences of the introduction of Art. 209 of the Code of criminal procedure which made it possible to commit to the police jails persons detained awaiting trial (for up to ten days or three months), and even those sentenced to a prison term (of up to six months). This provision has recently been quashed, but the police press for its reintroduction. Until quite recently, the police jails were submitted to no supervision whatever. The public prosecutor’s. office remained passive and carried out but most perfunctory supervision, if any. This situation hardly served the protection of detainees’ rights. It was only improved in 1988 when the police jails were submitted to supervision by the Ombudsperson and later also by Commissions: of Administration and Internal Affairs of the Diet and of the Rule of Law and Human Rigths of the Senate, and by other agencies and institutions. Also pre-trial detention is a serious interference with human rights. It is one of the preventive measures provided for by the Code of criminal procedure, and at the stage of execution – by the Code of execution of penalties and the Ordinance of Minister of Justice of 2 May 1989 – by-laws of execution of detention awaiting trial. The discussed measure can be applied by the court, and before the indictment also by the public prosecutor. The present authors find the latter’s right to apply pre-trial detention contradictory to provisions of international law, the covenants ratified by Poland included (see Art. 9,3 of the International Covenant on Political and Civil Rights). The legal provisions fail to specify the upper limit of duration of pre-trial detention. The amendement of the Code of criminal procedure and the changed policy of application of dotention resulted in a fall in the number of those detained awaiting trial. There were 9,722 such detainees on July 31, 1989 (see Tables 4–5). There was also a radical drop in the number of persons detained for over 12 months: in 1990, as few as 0,03 per cent of those kept at the public prosecutor’s disposal had been detained for at least 12 months. However, an alarming upward tendency in the number of persons detained awaiting trial can be noted lately. Discussing the conditions for optional or obligatory pre-trial detention, the authors criticize some of them as estimative in nature, and thus involving the danger of arbitrary use of this measure. The reasoning has been based on decisions of the Supreme Court which is of particular importance for the effective protection of the detainee’s rights. There have been a lot of faults in the practice of application and execution of pre-trial detention which was frequently used as a means of pressure aimed at forcing a person to plead guilty or to denounce an accomplice. In Poland, the application of pre-trail detention is the domain of the public prosecutor’s office. In the years 1975–1989, prosecutors applied this measure in nine out of every ten cases. The population of houses of detention and other penitentiary institutions shaped differently starting from 1945. A comparison of changes in the numer in the number of convicted persons with those of persons detained awaiting trial shows that the latter population was more stable starting from the 1960’s and never changed as radically in number as that of prisoners. That was the case despite the increased frequency of application of detention in the 1970’s. What contributed to this situation above all was the shortening of preparatory proceedings. In the period under analysis, the total number of persons detained awaiting trial in a given year largely approximated that of prisoners in that same year, and showed the same fluctuations resulting from the aggravated or relaxed criminal policy in the country. The trends here have nothing in common with the actual dynamics of crime as such. The authors assume that the number of persons detained awaiting trial reflects decisions in the sphere of criminal policy rather than the actual changes in crime, the economic situation, or even severe political tensions. What is also characteristic of the practice in this respect is the fact of a faulty application of the discussed measure. In the years 1975–1989, at least every 111th and at most every 71st person previously detained awaiting trial was subsequently found not guilty by the court. In some years, there were over 500 such persons. The authors discuss preventive barriers defined by the Supreme Court which are to ban clearly unjustified detention. As follows from analysis of the practical application of conditions for pre-trial detention, the one most frequently quoted was the alleged considerable social danger of the crime. Repressive conditions prevailed over the purely procedural ones. ln order to find out about the actual dimensions of the problem of pre-trial detention, the authors consulted the data concerning the use of preventive measure not involving isolation in criminal proceedings (such measures being financial and non-financial pledge, police supervision, and safe-conduct; see Table 6). It turned out that in the years 1978-1990, preventive measures other than detention awaiting trial never amounted to more than 43,5 and to less than 18 per cent of all preventive measures applied. After the above-mentioned Art. 209 of the code of execution of penalties has been quashed, detention awaiting trial can only be executed in the houses of detention created and run by the Ministry of Justice (Art.Art. 4 and 83 of the code of execution of ponalties). On December 31, 1990, there were 65 such institutions in Poland. Twenty-seven of them had additional wards for convicted persons, while 48 prisons had special wards for those detained awaiting trial. Thus pre-trial detention could be executed in the total of 114 of the 151 institutions of the Prison Department. The houses of detention had the total capacity of 18,263 beds, while the number of detainees was 16,200; the discussed institutions were therefore populated in 88,7 per cent. The rights of the discussed category of detainees are specified in the Code of execution of penalties and by-laws of execution of pre-trial deteotion awaiting trial. What is particularly worthy of attention is the provision which states that the detainee enjoys rights that should at least equal those of a convicted person, and that the only limitations allowed in this sphere are those indispensable for securing the proper course of criminal proceedings, maintaining order and safety in the institution, and preventing mutual demoralization of detainees (Art. 86 para 1 of the Code of execution of penalties). A person detained awaiting trial has many legal measures at his disposal to protect his own rights in relation to the application and execution of detention. Thus the detainee can lodge a complaint with a supreme agency of the penitentiary administration (Art. 48 para 4 of the Code of execution of penalties); with the public prosecutor and penitentiary judge (Art.Art. 27–33 and 48 point 5); to the supreme State agencies, the National Ombudsperson included (Art. 48 point 5); he may apeal against a decision of the administration of the house of detention concerning the actual execution of that measure to the penitentiary court (Art. I4,l of the Code of execution of penaltes); he may also sue the Treasury for damage suffered during detention by guilt of functionaries of the penitentiary administration (Art.Art. 417–l9 of the Civil code); he may claim indemnity for obviously unjustified detention (Art.Art. 487–49l of the Code of criminal procedure); and he may bring legal action by virtue of infringement of his personal interests (Art.Art. 23–24 of the Civil code). As shown by experience, the persons detained awaiting trial either never resort to some of these means or do that ineffectively. The living conditions of the discussed category of detainees are specified mainly in the by-laws of pre-trial detention. Many faults and shortcomings have been found here in practice. Some of such faults were so drastic as to make it necessary to close several houses of detention in 1990 to mention just one example (the institutions were either liquidated or designed for repairs). The authors also assume an attitude towards the treatment of some categories of offenders (women, particularly dangerous detainees, persons with mental disorders, HIV carriers), and discuss the treatment of juvenile detainees. Ending the paper, the authors stress the gradual improvement in the treatment of detainees since 1989. It results both from the legislative changes and from a relatively liberal criminal policy. The legal and to some extent also the organizational conditions have been created for implementation of the rule of law. Further changes are necessary, though, including in particular the passing of a new Constitution and penal codes. The drafts of the latter suggest, many new solutions in the sphere of arrest and detention awaiting trial which would make those institutions meet the European standards. What can considered valuable are the trends towards limiting the application of the two measures, specifying the conditions of their application, importantly, extending the guaranties of detainees’ rights.

We’ll have trouble now!The Archaeological Society of Jutland was founded on Sunday, 11 March 1951. As with most projects with which P.V Glob was involved, this did not pass off without drama. Museum people and amateur archaeologists in large numbers appeared at the Museum of Natural History in Aarhus, which had placed rooms at our disposal. The notable dentist Holger Friis, the uncrowned king of Hjørring, was present, as was Dr Balslev from Aidt, Mr and Mrs Overgaard from Holstebro Museum, and the temperamental leader of Aalborg Historical Museum, Peter Riismøller, with a number of his disciples. The staff of the newly-founded Prehistoric Museum functioned as the hosts, except that one of them was missing: the instigator of the whole enterprise, Mr Glob. As the time for the meeting approached, a cold sweat broke out on the foreheads of the people present. Finally, just one minute before the meeting was to start, he arrived and mounted the platform. Everything then went as expected. An executive committee was elected after some discussion, laws were passed, and then suddenly Glob vanished again, only to materialise later in the museum, where he confided to us that his family, which included four children, had been enlarged by a daughter.That’s how the society was founded, and there is not much to add about this. However, a few words concerning the background of the society and its place in a larger context may be appropriate. A small piece of museum history is about to be unfolded.The story begins at the National Museum in the years immediately after World War II, at a time when the German occupation and its incidents were still terribly fresh in everyone’s memory. Therkel Mathiassen was managing what was then called the First Department, which covered the prehistoric periods.Although not sparkling with humour, he was a reliable and benevolent person. Number two in the order of precedence was Hans Christian Broholm, a more colourful personality – awesome as he walked down the corridors, with his massive proportions and a voice that sounded like thunder when nothing seemed to be going his way, as quite often seemed to be the case. Glob, a relatively new museum keeper, was also quite loud at times – his hot-blooded artist’s nature manifested itself in peculiar ways, but his straight forward appearance made him popular with both the older and the younger generations. His somewhat younger colleague C.J. Becker was a scholar to his fingertips, and he sometimes acted as a welcome counterbalance to Glob. At the bottom of the hierarchy was the student group, to which I belonged. The older students handled various tasks, including periodic excavations. This was paid work, and although the salary was by no means princely, it did keep us alive. Student grants were non-existent at the time. Four of us made up a team: Olfert Voss, Mogens Ørsnes, Georg Kunwald and myself. Like young people in general, we were highly discontented with the way our profession was being run by its ”ruling” members, and we were full of ideas for improvement, some of which have later been – or are being – introduced.At the top of our wish list was a central register, of which Voss was the strongest advocate. During the well over one hundred years that archaeology had existed as a professional discipline, the number of artefacts had grown to enormous amounts. The picture was even worse if the collections of the provincial museums were taken into consideration. We imagined how it all could be registered in a card index and categorised according to groups to facilitate access to references in any particular situation. Electronic data processing was still unheard of in those days, but since the introduction of computers, such a comprehensive record has become more feasible.We were also sceptical of the excavation techniques used at the time – they were basically adequate, but they badly needed tightening up. As I mentioned before, we were often working in the field, and not just doing minor jobs but also more important tasks, so we had every opportunity to try out our ideas. Kunwald was the driving force in this respect, working with details, using sections – then a novelty – and proceeding as he did with a thoroughness that even his fellow students found a bit exaggerated at times, although we agreed with his principles. Therkel Mathiassen moaned that we youngsters were too expensive, but he put up with our excesses and so must have found us somewhat valuable. Very valuable indeed to everyon e was Ejnar Dyggve’s excavation of the Jelling mounds in the early 1940s. From a Danish point of view, it was way ahead of its time.Therkel Mathiassen justly complained about the economic situation of the National Museum. Following the German occupation, the country was impoverished and very little money was available for archaeological research: the total sum available for the year 1949 was 20,000 DKK, which corresponded to the annual income of a wealthy man, and was of course absolutely inadequate. Of course our small debating society wanted this sum to be increased, and for once we didn’t leave it at the theoretical level.Voss was lucky enough to know a member of the Folketing (parliament), and a party leader at that. He was brought into the picture, and between us we came up with a plan. An article was written – ”Preserve your heritage” (a quotation from Johannes V. Jensen’s Denmark Song) – which was sent to the newspaper Information. It was published, and with a little help on our part the rest of the media, including radio, picked up the story.We informed our superiors only at the last minute, when everything was arranged. They were taken by surprise but played their parts well, as expected, and everything went according to plan. The result was a considerable increase in excavation funds the following year.It should be added that our reform plans included the conduct of exhibitions. We found the traditional way of presenting the artefacts lined up in rows and series dull and outdated. However, we were not able to experiment within this field.Our visions expressed the natural collision with the established ways that comes with every new generation – almost as a law of nature, but most strongly when the time is ripe. And this was just after the war, when communication with foreign colleagues, having been discontinued for some years, was slowly picking up again. The Archaeological Society of Jutland was also a part of all this, so let us turn to what Hans Christian Andersen somewhat provocatively calls the ”main country”.Until 1949, only the University of Copenhagen provided a degree in prehistoric archaeology. However, in this year, the University of Aarhus founded a chair of archaeology, mainly at the instigation of the Lord Mayor, Svend Unmack Larsen, who was very in terested in archaeology. Glob applied for the position and obtained it, which encompassed responsibility for the old Aarhus Museum or, as it was to be renamed, the Prehistoric Museum (now Moesgaard Museum).These were landmark events to Glob – and to me, as it turned out. We had been working together for a number of years on the excavation of Galgebakken (”Callows Hill”) near Slots Bjergby, Glob as the excavation leader, and I as his assistant. He now offered me the job of museum curator at his new institution. This was somewhat surprising as I had not yet finished my education. The idea was that I was to finish my studies in remote Jutland – a plan that had to be given up rather quickly, though, for reasons which I will describe in the following. At the same time, Gunner Lange-Kornbak – also hand-picked from the National Museum – took up his office as a conservation officer.The three of us made up the permanent museum staff, quickly supplemented by Geoffrey Bibby, who turned out to be an invaluable colleague. He was English and had been stationed in the Faeroe Islands during the war, where he learned to speak Danish. After 1945 he worked for some years for an oil company in the Gulf of Persia, but after marrying Vibeke, he settled in her home town of Aarhus. As his academic background had involved prehistoric cultures he wanted to collaborate with the museum, which Glob readily permitted.This small initial flock governed by Glob was not permitted to indulge inidleness. Glob was a dynamic character, full of good and not so good ideas, but also possessing a good grasp of what was actually practicable. The boring but necessary daily work on the home front was not very interesting to him, so he willingly handed it over to others. He hardly noticed the lack of administrative machinery, a prerequisite for any scholarly museum. It was not easy to follow him on his flights of fancy and still build up the necessary support base. However, the fact that he in no way spared himself had an appeasing effect.Provincial museums at that time were of a mixed nature. A few had trained management, and the rest were run by interested locals. This was often excellently done, as in Esbjerg, where the master joiner Niels Thomsen and a staff of volunteers carried out excavations that were as good as professional investigations, and published them in well-written articles. Regrettably, there were also examples of the opposite. A museum curator in Jutland informed me that his predecessor had been an eager excavator but very rarely left any written documentation of his actions. The excavated items were left without labels in the museum store, often wrapped in newspapers. However, these gave a clue as to the time of unearthing, and with a bit of luck a look in the newspaper archive would then reveal where the excavation had taken place. Although somewhat exceptional, this is not the only such case.The Museum of Aarhus definitely belonged among the better ones in this respect. Founded in 1861, it was at first located at the then town hall, together with the local art collection. The rooms here soon became too cramped, and both collections were moved to a new building in the ”Mølleparken” park. There were skilful people here working as managers and assistants, such as Vilhelm Boye, who had received his archaeological training at the National Museum, and later the partners A. Reeh, a barrister, and G.V. Smith, a captain, who shared the honour of a number of skilfully performed excavations. Glob’s predecessor as curator was the librarian Ejler Haugsted, also a competent man of fine achievements. We did not, thus, take over a museum on its last legs. On the other hand, it did not meet the requirements of a modern scholarly museum. We were given the task of turning it into such a museum, as implied by the name change.The goal was to create a museum similar to the National Museum, but without the faults and shortcomings that that museum had developed over a period of time. In this respect our nightly conversations during our years in Copenhagen turned out to be useful, as our talk had focused on these imperfections and how to eradicate them.We now had the opportunity to put our theories into practice. We may not have succeeded in doing so, but two areas were essentially improved:The numerous independent numbering systems, which were familiar to us from the National Museum, were permeating archaeological excavation s not only in the field but also during later work at the museum. As far as possible this was boiled down to a single system, and a new type of report was born. (In this context, a ”report” is the paper following a field investigation, comprising drawings, photos etc. and describing the progress of the work and the observations made.) The instructions then followed by the National Museum staff regarding the conduct of excavations and report writing went back to a 19th-century protocol by the employee G.V. Blom. Although clear and rational – and a vast improvement at the time – this had become outdated. For instance, the excavation of a burial mound now involved not only the middle of the mound, containing the central grave and its surrounding artefacts, but the complete structure. A large number of details that no one had previously paid attention to thus had to be included in the report. It had become a comprehensive and time-consuming work to sum up the desultory notebook records in a clear and understandable description.The instructions resulting from the new approach determined a special records system that made it possible to transcribe the notebook almost directly into a report following the excavation. The transcription thus contained all the relevant information concerning the in vestigation, and included both relics and soil layers, the excavation method and practical matters, although in a random order. The report proper could then bereduced to a short account containing references to the numbers in the transcribed notebook, which gave more detailed information.As can be imagined, the work of reform was not a continuous process. On the contrary, it had to be done in our spare hours, which were few and far between with an employer like Glob. The assignments crowded in, and the large Jutland map that we had purchased was as studded with pins as a hedge hog’s spines. Each pin represented an inuninent survey, and many of these grew into small or large excavations. Glob himself had his lecture duties to perform, and although he by no means exaggerated his concern for the students, he rarely made it further than to the surveys. Bibby and I had to deal with the hard fieldwork. And the society, once it was established, did not make our lives any easier. Kuml demanded articles written at lightning speed. A perusal of my then diary has given me a vivid recollection of this hectic period, in which I had to make use of the evening and night hours, when the museum was quiet and I had a chance to collect my thoughts. Sometimes our faithful supporter, the Lord Mayor, popped in after an evening meeting. He was extremely interested in our problems, which were then solved according to our abilities over a cup of instant coffee.A large archaeological association already existed in Denmark. How ever, Glob found it necessary to establish another one which would be less oppressed by tradition. Det kongelige nordiske Oldsskriftselskab had been funded in 1825 and was still influenced by different peculiarities from back then. Membership was not open to everyone, as applications were subject to recommendation from two existing members and approval by a vote at one of the monthly lecture meetings. Most candidates were of course accepted, but unpopular persons were sometimes rejected. In addition, only men were admitted – women were banned – but after the war a proposal was brought forward to change this absurdity. It was rejected at first, so there was a considerable excitement at the January meeting in 1951, when the proposal was once again placed on the agenda. The poor lecturer (myself) did his best, although he was aware of the fact that just this once it was the present and not the past which was the focus of attention. The result of the voting was not very courteous as there were still many opponents, but the ladies were allowed in, even if they didn’t get the warmest welcome.In Glob’s society there were no such restrictions – everyone was welcome regardless of sex or age. If there was a model for the society, it was the younger and more progressive Norwegian Archaeological Society rather than the Danish one. The main purpose of both societies was to produce an annual publication, and from the start Glob’s Kuml had a closer resemblance to the Norwegian Viking than to the Danish Aarbøger for nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie. The name of the publication caused careful consideration. For a long time I kept a slip of paper with different proposals, one of which was Kuml, which won after having been approved by the linguist Peter Skautrup.The name alone, however, was not enough, so now the task became to find so mething to fill Kuml with. To this end the finds came in handy, and as for those, Glob must have allied him self with the higher powers, since fortune smiled at him to a considerable extent. Just after entering upon his duties in Aarhus, an archaeological sensation landed at his feet. This happened in May 1950 when I was still living in the capital. A few of us had planned a trip to Aarhus, partly to look at the relics of th e past, and partly to visit our friend, the professor. He greeted us warmly and told us the exciting news that ten iron swords had been found during drainage work in the valley of lllerup Aadal north of the nearby town of Skanderborg. We took the news calmly as Glob rarely understated his affairs, but our scepticism was misplaced. When we visited the meadow the following day and carefully examined the dug-up soil, another sword appeared, as well as several spear and lance heads, and other iron artefacts. What the drainage trench diggers had found was nothing less than a place of sacrifice for war booty, like the four large finds from the 1800s. When I took up my post in Aarhus in September of that year I was granted responsibility for the lllerup excavation, which I worked on during the autumn and the following six summers. Some of my best memories are associated with this job – an interesting and happy time, with cheerful comradeship with a mixed bunch of helpers, who were mainly archaeology students. When we finished in 1956, it was not because the site had been fully investigated, but because the new owner of the bog plot had an aversion to archaeologists and their activities. Nineteen years later, in 1975, the work was resumed, this time under the leadership of Jørgen Ilkjær, and a large amount of weaponry was uncovered. The report from the find is presently being published.At short intervals, the year 1952 brought two finds of great importance: in Februar y the huge vessel from Braa near Horsens, and in April the Grauballe Man. The large Celtic bronze bowl with the bulls’ heads was found disassembled, buried in a hill and covered by a couple of large stones. Thanks to the finder, the farmer Søren Paaske, work was stopped early enough to leave areas untouched for the subsequent examination.The saga of the Grauballe Man, or the part of it that we know, began as a rumour on the 26th of April: a skeleton had been found in a bog near Silkeborg. On the following day, which happened to be a Sunday, Glob went off to have a look at the find. I had other business, but I arrived at the museum in the evening with an acquaintance. In my diary I wrote: ”When we came in we had a slight shock. On the floor was a peat block with a corpse – a proper, well-preserved bog body. Glob brought it. ”We’ll be in trouble now.” And so we were, and Glob was in high spirits. The find created a sensation, which was also thanks to the quick presentation that we mounted. I had purchased a tape recorder, which cost me a packet – not a small handy one like the ones you get nowadays, but a large monstrosity with a steel tape (it was, after all, early days for this device) – and assisted by several experts, we taped a number of short lectures for the benefit of the visitors. People flocked in; the queue meandered from the exhibition room, through the museum halls, and a long way down the street. It took a long wait to get there, but the visitors seemed to enjoy the experience. The bog man lay in his hastily – procured exhibition case, which people circled around while the talking machine repeatedly expressed its words of wisdom – unfortunately with quite a few interruptions as the tape broke and had to be assembled by hand. Luckily, the tape recorders now often used for exhibitions are more dependable than mine.When the waves had died down and the exhibition ended, the experts examined the bog man. He was x-rayed at several points, cut open, given a tooth inspection, even had his fingerprints taken. During the autopsy there was a small mishap, which we kept to ourselves. However, after almost fifty years I must be able to reveal it: Among the organs removed for investigation was the liver, which was supposedly suitable for a C-14 dating – which at the time was a new dating method, introduced to Denmark after the war. The liver was sent to the laboratory in Copenhagen, and from here we received a telephone call a few days later. What had been sent in for examination was not the liver, but the stomach. The unfortunate (and in all other respects highly competent) Aarhus doctor who had performed the dissection was cal1ed in again. During another visit to the bogman’s inner parts he brought out what he believed to be the real liver. None of us were capable of deciding th is question. It was sent to Copenhagen at great speed, and a while later the dating arrived: Roman Iron Age. This result was later revised as the dating method was improved. The Grauballe Man is now thought to have lived before the birth of Christ.The preservation of the Grauballe Man was to be conservation officer Kornbak’s masterpiece. There were no earlier cases available for reference, so he invented a new method, which was very successful. In the first volumes of Kuml, society members read about the exiting history of the bog body and of the glimpses of prehistoric sacrificial customs that this find gave. They also read about the Bahrain expeditions, which Glob initiated and which became the apple of his eye. Bibby played a central role in this, as it was he who – at an evening gathering at Glob’s and Harriet’s home in Risskov – described his stay on the Persian Gulf island and the numerous burial mounds there. Glob made a quick decision (one of his special abilities was to see possibilities that noone else did, and to carry them out successfully to everyone’s surprise) and in December 1952 he and Bibby left for the Gulf, unaware of the fact that they were thereby beginning a series of expeditions which would continue for decades. Again it was Glob’s special genius that was the decisive factor. He very quickly got on friendly terms with the rulers of the small sheikhdoms and interested them in their past. As everyone knows, oil is flowing plentifully in those parts. The rulers were thus financially powerful and some of this wealth was quickly diverted to the expeditions, which probably would not have survived for so long without this assistance. To those of us who took part in them from time to time, the Gulf expeditions were an unforgettable experience, not just because of the interesting work, but even more because of the contact with the local population, which gave us an insight into local manners and customs that helped to explain parts of our own country’s past which might otherwise be difficult to understand. For Glob and the rest of us did not just get close to the elite: in spite of language problems, our Arab workers became our good friends. Things livened up when we occasionally turned up in their palm huts.Still, co-operating with Glob was not always an easy task – the sparks sometimes flew. His talent of initiating things is of course undisputed, as are the lasting results. He was, however, most attractive when he was in luck. Attention normally focused on this magnificent person whose anecdotes were not taken too seriously, but if something went wrong or failed to work out, he could be grossly unreasonable and a little too willing to abdicate responsibility, even when it was in fact his. This might lead to violent arguments, but peace was always restored. In 1954, another museum curator was attached to the museum: Poul Kjærum, who was immediately given the important task of investigating the dolmen settlement near Tustrup on Northern Djursland. This gave important results, such as the discovery of a cult house, which was a new and hitherto unknown Stone Age feature.A task which had long been on our mind s was finally carried out in 1955: constructing a new display of the museum collections. The old exhibitio n type consisted of numerous artefacts lined up in cases, accompaied ony by a brief note of the place where it was found and the type – which was the standard then. This type of exhibition did not give much idea of life in prehistoric times.We wanted to allow the finds to speak for themselves via the way that they were arranged, and with the aid of models, photos and drawings. We couldn’t do without texts, but these could be short, as people would understand more by just looking at the exhibits. Glob was in the Gulf at the time, so Kjærum and I performed the task with little money but with competent practical help from conservator Kornbak. We shared the work, but in fairness I must add that my part, which included the new lllerup find, was more suitable for an untraditional display. In order to illustrate the confusion of the sacrificial site, the numerous bent swords and other weapons were scattered a.long the back wall of the exhibition hall, above a bog land scape painted by Emil Gregersen. A peat column with inlaid slides illustrated the gradual change from prehistoric lake to bog, while a free-standing exhibition case held a horse’s skeleton with a broken skull, accompanied by sacrificial offerings. A model of the Nydam boat with all its oars sticking out hung from the ceiling, as did the fine copy of the Gundestrup vessel, as the Braa vessel had not yet been preserved. The rich pictorial decoration of the vessel’s inner plates was exhibited in its own case underneath. This was an exhibition form that differed considerably from all other Danish exhibitions of the time, and it quickly set a fashion. We awaited Glob’s homecoming with anticipation – if it wasn’t his exhibition it was still made in his spirit. We hoped that he would be surprised – and he was.The museum was thus taking shape. Its few employees included Jytte Ræbild, who held a key position as a secretary, and a growing number of archaeology students who took part in the work in various ways during these first years. Later, the number of employees grew to include the aforementioned excavation pioneer Georg Kunwald, and Hellmuth Andersen and Hans Jørgen Madsen, whose research into the past of Aarhus, and later into Danevirke is known to many, and also the ethnographer Klaus Ferdinand. And now Moesgaard appeared on the horizon. It was of course Glob’s idea to move everything to a manor near Aarhus – he had been fantasising about this from his first Aarhus days, and no one had raised any objections. Now there was a chance of fulfilling the dream, although the actual realisation was still a difficult task.During all this, the Jutland Archaeological Society thrived and attracted more members than expected. Local branches were founded in several towns, summer trips were arranged and a ”Worsaae Medal” was occasionally donated to persons who had deserved it from an archaeological perspective. Kuml came out regularly with contributions from museum people and the like-minded. The publication had a form that appealed to an inner circle of people interested in archaeology. This was the intention, and this is how it should be. But in my opinion this was not quite enough. We also needed a publication that would cater to a wider public and that followed the same basic ideas as the new exhibition.I imagined a booklet, which – without over-popularsing – would address not only the professional and amateur archaeologist but also anyone else interested in the past. The result was Skalk, which (being a branch of the society) published its fir t issue in the spring of 1957. It was a somewhat daring venture, as the financial base was weak and I had no knowledge of how to run a magazine. However, both finances and experience grew with the number of subscribers – and faster than expected, too. Skalk must have met an unsatisfied need, and this we exploited to the best of our ability with various cheap advertisements. The original idea was to deal only with prehistoric and medieval archaeology, but the historians also wanted to contribute, and not just the digging kind. They were given permission, and so the topic of the magazine ended up being Denmark’s past from the time of its first inhabitant s until the times remembered by the oldest of us – with the odd sideways leap to other subjects. It would be impossible to claim that Skalk was at the top of Glob’s wish list, but he liked it and supported the idea in every way. The keeper of national antiquities, Johannes Brøndsted, did the same, and no doubt his unreserved approval of the magazine contributed to its quick growth. Not all authors found it easy to give up technical language and express themselves in everyday Danish, but the new style was quickly accepted. Ofcourse the obligations of the magazine work were also sometimes annoying. One example from the diary: ”S. had promised to write an article, but it was overdue. We agreed to a final deadline and when that was overdue I phoned again and was told that the author had gone to Switzerland. My hair turned grey overnight.” These things happened, but in this particular case there was a happy ending. Another academic promised me three pages about an excavation, but delivered ten. As it happened, I only shortened his production by a third.The 1960s brought great changes. After careful consideration, Glob left us to become the keeper of national antiquities. One important reason for his hesitation was of course Moesgaard, which he missed out on – the transfer was almost settled. This was a great loss to the Aarhus museum and perhaps to Glob, too, as life granted him much greater opportunities for development.” I am not the type to regret things,” he later stated, and hopefully this was true. And I had to choose between the museum and Skalk – the work with the magazine had become too timeconsuming for the two jobs to be combined. Skalk won, and I can truthfully say that I have never looked back. The magazine grew quickly, and happy years followed. My resignation from the museum also meant that Skalk was disengaged from the Jutland Archaeological Society, but a close connection remained with both the museum and the society.What has been described here all happened when the museum world was at the parting of the ways. It was a time of innovation, and it is my opinion that we at the Prehistoric Museum contributed to that change in various ways.The new Museum Act of 1958 gave impetus to the study of the past. The number of archaeology students in creased tremendously, and new techniques brought new possibilities that the discussion club of the 1940s had not even dreamt of, but which have helped to make some of the visions from back then come true. Public in terest in archaeology and history is still avid, although to my regret, the ahistorical 1960s and 1970s did put a damper on it.Glob is greatly missed; not many of his kind are born nowadays. He had, so to say, great virtues and great fault s, but could we have done without either? It is due to him that we have the Jutland Archaeological Society, which has no w existed for half a century. Congr tulat ion s to the Society, from your offspring Skalk.Harald AndersenSkalk MagazineTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

Because Olympic medals are awarded to athletes representing an individual National Olympic Committee, it is natural for the media, and even the International Olympic Committee, to create a table indicating which nation has experienced the most athletic success. Problems, and even disagreements, arise when nations utilize different methods to count medals. The 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games, contested in 2021, provided a unique opportunity to observe how media organizations create a narrative around medal tables. American media outlets preferred to consistently show the United States at the top of the medal standings even though China had more gold medals for much of the Games' fortnight. Non-American media organizations took exception to that method of counting.

Abstract Care homes for older people may become places of deprivation of liberty due to their residents’ lack of capacity to consent to their stay. The Optional Protocol to the Convention Against Torture requires States Parties to establish National Preventive Mechanisms to undertake visits to all places of deprivation of liberty to prevent torture and other ill treatment. This paper discusses the ways in which National Preventive Mechanisms report on human rights concerns in older people’s care homes across 26 Council of Europe states. A framework established by the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture provides a starting point for this analysis. Common themes around restraint, ill treatment, safeguards for involuntary placements, and resourcing issues emerge. Against a backdrop of concerns heightened by the Covid-19 pandemic, the paper concludes that a narrow focus on individual human rights needs to be supplemented by addressing the structural issues on which the more broadly conceived rights of residents of care homes for older people depend.

This article examines sport/discipline-specific market concentrations in the context of the eight Summer Olympic Games held between 1992 and 2020. Three market concentration-related debates underpin this study: (1) the number of competing firms; (2) market size; and (3) time. A normalized version of the Herfindahl-Hirschman Index (HHIN) is calculated for gold medal and medal concentrations for all 42 sports/disciplines. The analyses included panel data models and Pearson correlations. The main findings are that (1) market concentrations for (gold) medals within most sport/disciplines have not significantly declined over time; and (2) neither an increased number of competing National Olympic Committees (NOCs) nor increased market size is likely to have impacted market concentration within a sport/discipline. The findings advance the understanding of market concentration trends and have implications for elite sport practitioners including the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and International Federations (IFs) in terms of an evaluation of existing measures introduced to promote competitive balance, and NOCs in terms of resource distribution among sports/disciplines and prioritization strategies.

The implementation of compulsory notification of HIV in France has been the subject of debate for many years, mainly due to concern for the human rights of patients with HIV, with only AIDS cases being notified. An anonymous reporting system for HIV infection was scheduled to begin in 1999, but this was delayed due to opposition from organisations demanding measures to strengthen patient anonymity and data protection. The new system is the product of extensive collaboration between the Institut de Veille Sanitaire (InVS), patient associations, civil rights groups, health care professionals (microbiologists, clinicians, epidemiologists), the ministry of health, and expert committees (on safety, ethics), all of whom are represented on a steering committee. The new arrangements, which reinforce patient anonymity and data protection, meets the requirements of the parties involved, and has been authorised by the National Commission for data processing and liberty (CNIL), the national authority for the protection of personal data collected on individuals.

Incorporating coding skills into the basic literacy skills of 21st century citizens is common in many parts of the world. This is because the development of artificial intelligence and smart devices and their social use have become real, and in the near future, the ability to use robots and artificial intelligence devices for their own purposes has become a skill that every citizen should have. Algorithms and programming are included in the Mongolian general education information technology course curriculum. The coding ability plays an important role in the development of a new century citizen’s thinking, creating and evaluating skills. One of the activities that promotes the development of this skill is the International Olympiad in Informatics. Our country has been participating in this Olympiad since 1991 and has won three bronze, one silver and one gold medal. You can participate in the online Olympiad regardless of where you live in Mongolia. This type of Olympiad is very important to support the continuous development of students who are gifted in programming and coding, as well as to enable them to successfully participate in national and international Olympiads. Mongolian Informatics Olympiad Committee (MIOC) organized 24 online contests using Contest Management System (CMS1 ) which is official IOI judging system. In this paper we considered 22 online contests organized in 2019, 2020, 2021 years and classified 115 problems chosen in those contests by topics and complexity. We also report here results of a small research about scores got by participants, development of problem-solving skills. A new registration web system developed while implementing IOI judging system is explained.

"e collection of medals in the National Museum of Banat from Timisoara boasts a silver medal (inv. no. 130) of great artistic, as well as memorialistic value. "e piece recalls the 1875 erection of the monument of Ferdinand Maximilian Josef of Habsburg (1832–1867), Archduke of Austria, Emperor of Mexico (1864–1867), in Trieste, who would remain in the memory of contemporaries due to his tragic fate."e medal was made by Josef Tautenhayn Senior (1837–1911), one of the most important Austrian medalists of the 19th century, a perfectionist of forms, famous for the beauty of his medals. With a diameter of 70.4 mm and a weight of 133.97 grams, the medal was donated to the museum in 1881 by the Minister of War Szende (Frummer) Béla (1823–1882), a native of Banat, along with six other medals.It presents the biography of Maximilian, who had a brilliant career in the Navy, and the special relationship he had with the city of Trieste, chosen as his residence in 1854. Married on July 27th, 1857 to Princess Maria Charlotte of Belgium (1840–1927), the couple would settle in Trieste in 1859, in the splendid Miramare Castle built between 1856–1860 based on the plans of the architect Carl Junker (1827–1882). Here, for several years, Maximilian, who was passionate about natural sciences (especially botany), history, art and literature, devoted himself to travel, scientific and literary pursuits.From here, Maximilian and Carlota will leave on April 14th, 1864 by the frigate Novara for Veracruz, after Maximilian’s acceptance of the crown of Mexico, in an attempt doomed to failure from the beginning. After the execution of Maximilian by the republicans on June 19th, 1867, his lifeless body was brought here by the frigate Novara in January 1868, on the way to Vienna.On July 13th, 1867 a Committee was already formed in Trieste for the erection of a monument dedicated to the memory of Maximilian, which brought together personalities of the city and gathered the necessary funds by public subscription. "e monument, made by the German sculptor Johann Schilling (1828–1910) was inaugurated on April 3rd, 1875 in the presence of Emperor Franz Josef in Giuseppina Square, overlooking the harbour. For this festive moment, the medal which is the subject of this article was issued, made of gold, silver and bronze at the Vienna Mint, designed and drawn by Prof. Johann Schilling, the designer of the monument, and engraved by Josef Tautenhayn Senior. It should be noted that on February 27th, 1875, when the foundation of the monument was built, two medals (one silver, one bronze) were deposited in the foundation along with several silver coins circulating at the time and two documents documenting the erection of the monument.In 1921, when the monument was dismantled to be relocated, the medals, coins and documents deposited in the foundation in February 1875 were discovered, were donated to the Museum of History and Arts in Trieste. "e monument was stored behind an annex in the park of Miramare Castle until 1961, when it was placed in a touristic area of the park. In December 2008, the monument was relocated to its original location, Giuseppina Square (now Piazza Venezia), as a sign of acceptance of the past.

AbstractIt is with great sadness that we have learned of the passing of Professor Ernest Maréchal on 9 January 2016, at the age of eighty-four. Between 1993 and 2008, Ernest Maréchal was deeply involved in the activities of the IUPAC Polymer Division (formerly the Macromolecular Division) and of the Subcommittee on Polymer Terminology, and has led or contributed to six IUPAC Recommendations, amongst others on chemically modified polymers and source-based nomenclature. Ernest Maréchal was a graduate of Ecole Normale Supérieure (Cachan, France), with a degree in Physics (Aggrégation). He received his Doctorate degree from the University of Paris in 1965, specializing in the chemistry of cationic polymerization and was immediately appointed full Professor at the University of Rouen. In 1976, he joined the University Pierre-et-Marie-Curie (UPMC, Paris), where he developed research studies on the mechanisms of cationic polymerizations and polycondensations and on the chemical modification of polymers, establishing close relationships with the polymer industry. He was behind the discovery and development of thermoplastic elastomers, now commercialized by Arkema under the trade name Pebax. His last research works were devoted to pioneering studies on enzymatic catalysis in polymerizations (1989-2001). During his career, he acted as Head of the departments of physical chemistry (1978-1980) and macromolecular chemistry (1985-1992) at UPMC and as Head of the molecular and macromolecular physical chemistry branch of the National Committee for Research of CNRS (1983-1987). He authored or co-authored more than 300 research papers and has supervised more than 100 PhD studies. He was awarded many scientific prizes, including the Silver Medal of CNRS, the Pierre Sue Great Prize, and the Lavoisier Medal of the Société Chimique de France. Ernest was a great figure in polymer science, a leading scientist whom his numerous students will never forget, a man of culture, full of humour, and a warm and faithful friend who will be sorely missed.

Background and Aims: In the field of mental health, the fundamental right to liberty is a point of tension between the practice of psychiatric commitment on the one hand and the universal concept of human rights on the other. The European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) is a very specific means of safeguarding human rights because it allows an individual to not only assert their rights but also compel a state to bring its legislation into conformity with the principles of the European Convention on Human Rights. The aim of this study was to gather the case-law of the ECtHR on psychiatric commitment over the last 60 years and to determine how this case-law has affected national legislation and therefore psychiatric practice.Methods: Jurisprudence data were collected from the HUDOC ECtHR database, and the direct effects of the ECtHR judgements on the legislations of the countries concerned were collected from the HUDOC EXEC database of the Council of Europe. The case-law of the Court included 118 judgements and 56 decisions and concerned 31 of the 45 countries that have ratified the Convention.Results: This study therefore showed a direct effect of the Court's case-law on the legislation on psychiatric commitment in the various countries that have ratified the Convention. It was also possible to detect an indirect effect of this case-law through the directives of international institutions such as the directives of the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe concerning respect for people with mental disorders.Conclusions: The ECtHR case-law therefore has a major influence on the psychiatric practice in all Council of Europe countries.

Introduction On Saturday 6 February 1954, on the third day of the Australian leg of their tour of the Commonwealth, Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, visited Sydney’s Bondi Beach. The specially-staged Royal Surf Carnival they witnessed—comprising a spectacular parade, surf boat races, mock resuscitations and even unscheduled surf rescues—generated extensive media coverage. Attracting attention from historians (Warshaw 134; Ford 194–196), the carnival lingers in popular memory as not only a highlight of the Australian tour (Conway n.p.; Clark 8) and among the “most celebrated events in Australian surf lifesaving history” (Ford et al. 5) but also as “the most spectacular occasion [ever held] at Bondi Beach” (Lawrence and Sharpe 86). It is even, for some, a “highlight of the [Australian] post-war period” (Ford et al. 5). Despite this, the fuller history of the Queen’s visit to Bondi, including the detailed planning involved, remains unexplored. A small round tin medal, discovered online, offered a fresh way to approach this event. 31mm in diameter, 2mm in depth, this dual-sided, smooth-edged medal hangs from a hoop on approximately 80mm of discoloured, doubled red, white, and blue striped ribbon, fastened near its end with a tarnished brass safety pin. The obverse features a relief portrait of the youthful Queen’s face and neck in profile, her hair loosely pulled back into a low chignon, enclosed within a striped symmetrical scrolled border of curves and peaks. This is encircled with another border inscribed in raised capitals: “Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. Royal Visit to Waverley N.S.W.” The reverse features a smooth central section encircled with the inscription (again in raised capitals), “Presented to the Children of Waverley N.S.W. 1954”, the centre inscribed, “By Waverley Municipal Council C.A. Jeppesen Mayor”. Figs. 1 & 2: Medal, c.1954. Collection of the Author. Medals are often awarded in recognition of achievement and, in many cases, are worn as prominent components of military and other uniforms. They can also be made and gifted in commemoration, which was the case with this medal, one of many thousands presented in association with the tour. Made for Waverley Council, it was presented to all schoolchildren under 15 in the municipality, which included Bondi Beach. Similar medals were presented to schoolchildren by other Australian councils and States in Australia (NAA A462). This gifting was not unprecedented, with medals presented to (at least some) Australian schoolchildren to commemorate Queen Victoria’s 1897 Diamond Jubilee (The Age 5; Sleight 187) and the 1937 coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth (“Coronation Medals” 6). Unable to discover any provenance for this medal aside from its (probable) presentation in 1954 and listing for sale in 2021, I pondered instead Waverley Council’s motivation in sourcing and giving these medals. As a researcher, this assisted me in surmounting the dominance of the surf carnival in the history of this event and led to an investigation of the planning around the Bondi visit. Planning Every level of government was involved in planning the event. Created within the Prime Minister’s Department, the Royal Visit Organisation 1954—staffed from early 1953, filling positions from within the Commonwealth Public Service, armed services and statutory authorities—had overall authority over arrangements (NAA 127, 134). National planning encompassed itineraries, travel arrangements, security, public relations, and protocol as well as fly and mosquito control, the royals’ laundry arrangements, and advice on correct dress (NAA: A1533; NAA: A6122; NAA: A9708, RV/DD Annex.15; NAA: A1838, 1516/11 Parts 1&2; NAA: A9708, RV/CD; NAA: A9708, RV/CQ; NAA: A9708, RV/T). Planning conferences were held with State officials who developed State visit programs and then devolved organisational responsibilities to Councils and other local organisations (NAA: A9708, RV/DD Annex.2; NAA: A9708, RV/DD Annex.3). Once the Bondi Beach location was decided, the Surf Life Saving Association of Australia received a Royal Command to stage a surf carnival for the royals. This command was passed to the president of the Bondi club, who organised a small delegation to meet with government representatives. A thirteen-member Planning Committee, all men (“The Queen to See” 12), was appointed “with full power to act without reference to any other body” (Meagher 6). They began meeting in June 1953 and, soon after this, the carnival was announced in the Australian press. In recognition, the “memorable finale” of a Royal Command Performance before the Queen in London in November 1953 marked the royal couple’s impending tour by filling the stage with people from Commonwealth countries. This concluded with “an Australian tableau”. Alongside people dressed as cricketers, tennis players, servicemen, and Indigenous people, a girl carrying a huge bunch of bananas, and a couple in kangaroo suits were six lifesavers dressed in Bondi march-past costumes and caps, carrying the club flag (Royal Variety Charity n.p.). In deciding on a club for the finale, Bondi was “seen the epitome of the surf lifesaving movement—and Australia” (Brawley 82). The Planning Committee worked with representatives from the police, army, government, local council, and ambulance services as well as the media and other bodies (Meagher 6). Realising the “herculean task” (Meagher 9) ahead, the committee recruited some 170 members (again all men) and 20 women volunteers from the Bondi and North Bondi Surf Clubs to assist. This included sourcing and erecting the carnival enclosure which, at over 200 meters wide, was the largest ever at the beach. The Royal dais that would be built over the promenade needed a canvas cover to shield the royal couple from the heat or rain. Seating needed to be provided for some 10,500 paying spectators, and eventually involved 17 rows of tiered seating set across the promenade, 2,200 deckchairs on the sand in front, and, on each flank, the Bondi Surf Club’s tiered stands. Accommodations also had to be provided at selected vantage points for some 100 media representatives, with a much greater crowd of 50–60,000 expected to gather outside the enclosure. Four large tents, two at each end of the competition area, would serve as both change rooms and shady rest areas for some 2,000 competitors. Two additional large tents were needed, one at each end of the lawns behind the beach, fitted out with camp stretchers that had to be sourced for the St John Ambulance Brigade to deal with first-aid cases, most of whom were envisaged to come from the crowds due to heat stroke (Meagher 6–7). The committee also had to solve numerous operational issues not usually associated with running a surf carnival, such as ensuring sufficient drinking water for so many people on what might be a very hot day (“The Queen to See” 12). With only one tap in the carnival area, the organisers had to lay a water line along the entire one-kilometre length of the promenade with double taps every two to three metres. Temporary toilets also had to be sourced, erected, and serviced. Self-financing and with costs adding up, sponsors needed to be secured to provide goods and services in return for advertising. An iced water unit was, for instance, provided on the dais, without cost, by the ElectrICE Commercial Refrigeration company. The long strip of red carpet laid from where the royals would alight from their car right through the dais was donated by the manufacturer of Feltex, a very popular Australian-made wool carpet. Prominent department store, Anthony Horden’s, loaned the intricately carved chairs to be used by the Royal couple and other officials, while The Bondi Diggers Club provided chrome plated chairs for other official guests, many of whom were the crew of royal yacht, the S.S. Gothic (Meagher 6). Fig. 3: “Feltex [Advertisement].” The Australian Home Beautiful Nov. 1954: 40. http://nla.gov.au/nla.obj-2985285882. The Ladies Committees of the Bondi and North Bondi surf clubs were tasked with organising and delivering lunch and drinks to over 400 officials, all of whom were to stay in position from early morning until the carnival concluded at 5 pm (Meagher 6). Girl members of the Bondi social clubs were to act as usherettes. Officials describe deciding who would meet, or even come in any close proximity to, the Queen as “most ticklish” and working with mayors and other officials a “headache” (“Socialites” 3). In Bondi, there were to be notably few officials sitting with the royal couple, but thousands of “ordinary” spectators seated around the carnival area. On her arrival, it was planned that the Queen would walk through a guard of honour of lifesavers from each Australian and New Zealand club competing in the carnival. After viewing the finals of the surf boat races, the Queen would meet the team captains and then, in a Land Rover, inspect the massed lifesavers and greet the spectators. Although these activities were not contentious, debate raged about the competitors’ uniforms. At this time, full-length chest-covering costumes were normally worn in march-past and other formal events, with competitors stripping down to trunks for surf races and beach events. It was, however, decided that full-length costumes would be worn for the entirety of the Queen’s visit. This generated considerable press commentary that this was ridiculous, and charges that Australians were ashamed of their lifesavers’ manly chests (“Costume Rule” 3). The president of the Bondi Life Saving Club, however, argued that they did not want the carnival spoiled by lifesavers wearing “dirty … track suits, football guernseys … old football shorts … and just about everything except proper attire” (ctd. in Jenkings 1). Waverley Council similarly attempted to control the appearance of the route through which the royals would travel to the beach on the day of the carnival. This included “a sequence of signs along the route” expressing “the suburb’s sentiments and loyalty” (“Queen in the Suburbs” 4; see also, “The Royal Tour” 9). Maintaining that “the greatest form of welcome will be by the participation of the residents themselves”, the Mayor sought public donations to pay for decorations (with donors’ names and amounts to be published in the local press, and these eventually met a third of the cost (“The Royal Tour” 9; Waverley Council n.p.). In January 1954, he personally appealed to those on the route to decorate their premises and, in encouragement, Council provided substantial prizes for the most suitably decorated private and commercial premises. The local Chamber of Commerce was responsible for decorating the transport and shopping hub of Bondi Junction, with many businesses arranging to import Coronation decorations from England (“Queen in the Suburbs” 4; “The Royal Tour” 9). With “colorful activity” providing the basis of Council’s plan (“Queen in the Suburbs” 4), careful choreography ensured that thousands of people would line the royal route through the municipality. In another direct appeal, the Mayor requested that residents mass along the roadsides, wearing appropriate rosettes or emblems and waving flags (“Queen in the Suburbs” 4; “The Royal Tour” 9). Uniformed nurses would also be released from duty to gather outside the War Memorial Hospital as the royals passed by (“Royal Visit” n.p.). At the largest greenspace on the route, Waverley Park, some 10,000 children from the municipality’s 18 schools would assemble, all in uniform and wearing the medal to be presented to them to commemorate the visit. Children would also be provided with large red, white, or blue rosettes to wave as the royals drove by. A special seating area near the park was to be set aside for the elderly and ex-servicemen (“Queen in the Suburbs” 4). Fostering Expectations As the date of the visit approached, preparation and anticipation intensified. A week before, a detailed visit schedule was published in local newspaper Bondi Daily. At this time, the Royal Tour Decorations Committee (comprised of Aldermen and prominent local citizens) were “erecting decorations at various focal points” throughout the municipality (“The Royal Tour” 9). On 4 February, the Planning Committee held their final meeting at the Bondi Beach clubhouse (Meagher 6). The next day, the entire beach was cleaned and graded (Wilson 40). The afternoon before the visit, the Council’s decoration competition was judged, with the winners a house alongside Waverley Park and the beachside Hotel Astra (“Royal Visit” n.p.), one of 14 Sydney hotels, and the only one in Bondi, granted permission to sell liquor with meals until the extended hour of 11.00 pm during the Royal visit (“State House” 5). On the day of the surf carnival, The Sydney Morning Herald featured a large photograph of the finishing touches being put to the official dais and seating the day before (“Stage Set” 15). In reality, there was still a flurry of activity from daybreak on the day itself (Meagher 7), with the final “tidying up and decorating still proceeding” (Meagher 7) as the first carnival event, the Senior boat race heats, began at 10.00 am (“N.Z. Surf” 15). Despite some resident anger regarding the area’s general dilapidation and how the money being spent on the visit could have been used for longstanding repairs to the Pavilion and other infrastructure (Brawley 203), most found the decorations of the beach area appealing (“Royal Visit” n.p.). Tickets to the carnival had sold out well in advance and the stands were filled hours before the Queen arrived, with many spectators wearing sundresses or shorts and others stripping down to swimsuits in the sunshine (“Royal Visit” n.p.). With Police Inspector Michael O’Neill’s collapse and death at a royal event the day before thought to be the result of heat exposure, and the thermometer reaching the high 80s°F (low 30s°C), a large parasol was sourced to be held over the Queen on the dais (Meagher 8). A little after 3:15 pm, the surf club’s P.A. system advised those assembled at the beach that the royal party had left Randwick Racecourse on time and were proceeding towards them (“Queen’s Visit to Races” 17), driving through cheering crowds all the way (“Sydney” 18). At Waverley Park, Council had ensured that the waiting crowds had been entertained by the Randwick-Coogee pipe band (“Royal Visit” n.p.) and spirits were high. Schoolchildren, wearing their medals, lined the footpaths, and 102-year-old Ernest Dunn, who was driven to the park in the morning by police, was provided with a seat on the roadway as well as tea and sandwiches during his long wait (“Royal Tour Highlights” 2; “Royal Visit” n.p.). The royal couple, driving by extremely slowly and waving, were given a rousing welcome. Their attire was carefully selected for the very warm day. The Queen wore a sunny lemon Dior-styled cap-sleeved dress, small hat and white accessories, the Duke a light-coloured suit and tie. It was observed that she wore heavier makeup as a protection against the sun and, as the carnival progressed, opened her handbag to locate her fashionable sunglasses (“Thrills” 1). The Duke also wore sunglasses and used race binoculars (Meagher 8). The Result Despite the exhaustive planning, there were some mishaps, mostly when the excitement of the “near-hysterical crowds” (Hardman n.p.) could not be contained. In Double Bay, for instance, as the royals made their way to Bondi, a (neither new nor clean) hat thrown into the car’s rear seat struck the Duke. It was reported that “a look of annoyance” clouded his face as he threw it back out onto the road. At other points, flags, nosegays, and flutter ribbons (long sticks tied with lengths of coloured paper) were thrown at, and into, the Royal car. In other places, hundreds raced out into the roadway to try to touch the Queen or the Duke. They “withstood the ordeal unflinchingly”, but the Duke was reportedly concerned about “this mass rudeness” (“Rude Mobs” 2). The most severe crowding of the day occurred as the car passed through the centre of Bondi Junction’s shopping district, where uniformed police had to jump on the Royal car’s running boards to hold off the crowds. Police also had to forcibly restrain a group of men who rushed the car as it passed the Astra Hotel. This was said to be “an ugly incident … resentment of the police action threatened to breed a riot” (“Rude Mobs” 2). Almost everything else met, and even exceeded, expectations. The Queen and Duke’s slow progress from Bondi Road and then, after passing under a large “Welcome to Bondi” sign, their arrival at the entrance to the dais only three minutes late and presence at the carnival went entirely to plan and are well documented in minute-by-minute detail. This includes in detailed press reports, newsreels, and a colour film, The Queen in Australia (1954). Their genuine enjoyment of the races was widely commented upon, evidenced in how they pointed out details to each other (Meagher 8), the number of times the Duke used his binoculars and, especially, in their reluctance to leave, eventually staying more than double the scheduled time (“Queen Delighted” 7). Sales of tickets and programs more than met the costs of mounting the event (Meagher 8–9) and the charity concert held at the beach on the night of the carnival to make the most of the crowds also raised significant funds (“Queen in the Suburbs” 4). Bondi Beach looked spectacularly beautiful and gained considerable national and international exposure (Landman 183). The Surf Life Saving Association of Australia’s president noted that the “two factors that organisation could not hope to control—weather and cooperation of spectators—fulfilled the most optimistic hopes” (Curlewis 9; Maxwell 9). Conclusion Although it has been stated that the 58-day tour was “the single biggest event ever planned in Australia” (Clark 8), focussing in on a single event reveals the detailed decentralised organisation which went into both each individual activity as well as the travel between them. It also reveals how significantly responsible bodies drew upon volunteer labour and financial contributions from residents. While many studies have discussed the warm welcome given to the monarch by Australians in 1954 (Connors 371–2, 378), a significant finding from this object-inspired research is how purposefully Waverley Council primed this public reception. The little medal discussed at the opening of this discussion was just one of many deliberate attempts to prompt a mass expression of homage and loyalty to the sovereign. It also reveals how, despite the meticulous planning and minute-by-minute scheduling, there were unprompted and impulsive behaviours, both by spectators and the royals. Methodologically, this investigation also suggests that seemingly unprepossessing material remnants of the past can function as portals into larger stories. In this case, while an object biography could not be written of the commemorative medal I stumbled upon, a thoughtful consideration of this object inspired an investigation of aspects of the Queen’s visit to Bondi Beach that had otherwise remained unexplored. References Brawley, Sean. “Lifesavers of a Nation.” 3 Feb. 2007: 82. [extract from The Bondi Lifesaver: A History of an Australian Icon. Sydney: ABC Books, 2007.] Clark, Andrew. “The Queen’s Royal Tours of Australia Remembered: Reflection.” The Australian Financial Review 10 Sep. 2022: 8. Connors, Jane. “The 1954 Royal Tour of Australia.” Australian Historical Studies 25 (1993): 371–82. Conway, Doug. “Queen’s Perennial Pride in Australia.” AAP General News Wire 26 Nov. 2021: n.p. “Coronation Medals Presented to School Children: 6000 Distributed in Rockhampton District.” Morning Bulletin 12 May 1937: 6. “Costume Rule for Queen’s Bondi Visit.” Barrier Miner 18 Dec. 1953: 3. Curlewis, Adrian. “Letter.” Bondi Surfer: Official Organ of the Bondi Surf Bathers’ Life Saving Club 2.7 (1954): 9. Ford, Caroline. Sydney Beaches: A History. Sydney: NewSouth Publishing, 2014. Ford, Caroline, Chris Giles, Danya Hodgetts, and Sean O’Connell. “Surf Lifesaving: An Australian Icon in Transition.” Australian Bureau of Statistics Year Book, Australia 2007. Ed. Dennis Trewin. Canberra: Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2007. 1–12. Hardman, Robert. Our Queen. London: Hutchinson, 2011. <https://www.google.com.au/books/edition/OurQueen/DySbU9r0ABgC>. Jenkings, Frank. “Editorial.” Bondi Surfer: Official Organ of the Bondi Surf Bathers’ Life Saving Club 2.6 (1954): 1. Landman, Jane. “Renewing Imperial Ties: The Queen in Australia.” The British Monarchy on Screen. Ed. Mandy Merck. Manchester: Manchester UP, 2016. 181–204. Lawrence, Joan, and Alan Sharpe. Pictorial History: Eastern Suburbs. Alexandria: Kingsclear Books, 1999. Maxwell, C. Bede. “Letter.” Bondi Surfer: Official Organ of the Bondi Surf Bathers’ Life Saving Club 2.7 (1954): 9. Meagher, T.W. “The Royal Tour Surf Carnival Bondi Beach, February 6, 1954.” Bondi Surfer: Official Organ of the Bondi Surf Bathers’ Life Saving Club 2.7 (1954): 6–9. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A462, 825/4/6, Royal tour 1954—Medals for School children—General representations, 1954. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A1533, 1957/758B, Royal Visit, 1953–1954. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A1838, 1516/11 Part 1, Protocol—Royal Visit, 1948–1954. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A1838, 1516/11 Part 2, Protocol—Royal Visit, 1954–1966. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A6122, 1861, Government Heads of State—Royal Visit 1954—ASIO file, 1953–1958. Canberra: Australian Security Intelligence Organization. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A9708, RV/CD, Fly and Mosquito Control. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A9708, RV/CQ, Laundry and Dry Cleaning and Pressing Arrangements. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A9708, RV/DD Annexure 2, Minutes of Conferences with State Directors, 22 January 1953–14 January 1954. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A9708, RV/DD Annexure 3, State Publications. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A9708, RV/DD Annexure 15, Report by Public Relations Officer. National Archives of Australia (NAA): A9708, RV/T, Matters Relating to Dress. National Archives of Australia (NAA). Royalty and Australian Society: Records Relating to The British Monarchy Held in Canberra. Research Guide. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 1998. “N.Z. Surf Team in Dispute.” The Sydney Morning Herald 6 Feb. 1954: 15. “Queen Delighted by Carnival.” The Sun-Herald 7 Feb. 1954: 7. “Queen in the Suburbs: Waverley.” Sun 21 Jan. 1954: 4. “Queen’s Visit to Races: Drive in Suburbs.” The Daily Telegraph 6 Feb. 1954: 17. “Royal Tour Highlights.” The Mail 6 Feb. 1954: 2. Royal Variety Charity. “Coronation Year Royal Variety Performance.” London: London Coliseum, 2 Nov. 1953. <https://www.royalvarietycharity.org/royal-variety-performance/archive/detail/1953-london-coliseum>. “Royal Visit to Waverley.” Feb. 1954 [Royal Visit, 1954 (Topic File). Local Studies Collection, Waverley Library, Bondi Junction, LS VF] “Rude Mobs Spoil Happy Reception.” The Argus 8 Feb. 1954: 2. Sleight, Simon. Young People and the Shaping of Public Space in Melbourne, 1870–1914. Abingdon: Routledge, 2016. “Socialites in for Rude Shock on Royal Tour Invitations.” Daily Telegraph 3 Jan. 1954: 3. “Stage Set for Royal Surf Carnival at Bondi.” The Sydney Morning Herald 6 Feb. 1954: 15. “State House Rehearses Royal Opening.” The Sydney Morning Herald 27 Jan. 1954: 5. “Sydney.” Women’s Letters. The Bulletin 10 Feb. 1954: 18. The Age 24 Jun. 1897: 5. The Queen in Australia. Dir. Colin Dean. Australian National Film Board, 1954. “The Queen to See Lifesavers.” The Daily Telegraph 24 Aug. 1953: 12. “The Royal Tour.” Bondi Daily 30 Jan. 1954: 9. “Thrills for the Queen at Bondi Carnival—Stayed Extra Time.” The Sun-Herald 7 Feb. 1954: 1. Warshaw, Matt. The History of Surfing. San Fransisco: Chronicle Books, 2010. Wilson, Jack. Australian Surfing and Surf Lifesaving. Adelaide: Rigby, 1979.

Dr. Ping Yang is University Distinguished Professor and holds the David Bullock Harris Chair in geosciences at Texas A&M University (TAMU), where he currently serves as the Senior Associate Dean for Research and Graduate Studies in the College of Arts and Sciences. He previously served as Department Head of Atmospheric Sciences (2012-2018) and Associate Dean for Research (2019-2022) in the College of Geosciences at TAMU. Dr. Yang has supervised/co-supervised 30 doctoral dissertations and 20 master’s degree theses. He has published 366 peer-reviewed journal papers, thirteen invited book chapters, and four books. His publications have been cited 24,144 times (Google Scholar)/15,974 times (Web of Science) with an H-index of 79 (Google Scholar)/62 (Web of Science), as of 26 Sept 2023. His research focuses on light scattering, radiative transfer, and remote sensing. Since joining TAMU, Yang has been extramurally funded for 83 research projects. Yang is a Fellow of the American Physical Society (APS), the Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers (IEEE), OPTICA (formerly the Optical Society of America), The Electromagnetics Academy, the American Geophysical Union (AGU), the American Meteorological Society (AMS), and the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS). Yang received a number of awards/honors, including the NASA Exceptional Scientific Achievement Medal (2017), the Ascent Award by the AGU Atmospheric Science Section (2013), the David and Lucille Atlas Remote Sensing Prize by AMS (2020), and the van de Hulst Light-Scattering Award by Elsevier (2022), and a university-level faculty research award (2017) bestowed by The TAMU Association of Former Students (AFS). Dr. Yang was an elected member of the International Radiation Commission (IRC) under the International Association of Meteorology and Atmospheric Sciences (2012-2020) and was appointed as one of the 16 members of the U.S. National Research Council-Space Studies Board's Committee on Earth Science and Applications from Space (October 2018- June 2022). He has served as an editor of the Journal of the Atmospheric Sciences (2015-2020) and currently serves as an Editor-in-Chief of the Journal of Quantitative Spectroscopy & Radiative Transfer and an editor of the Journal of Geophysical Research-Atmospheres. Dr. George W. Kattawar is a Professor Emeritus in the Department of Physics & Astronomy and the Institute of Quantum Science & Engineering at Texas A&M University. He is an internationally renowned expert in radiative transfer and light scattering dealing with full Mueller matrix/Stokes vector processes. He has made significant contributions in using radiative transfer in such diverse areas as biomedical optics, planetary atmospheres, cloud and aerosol property studies related to climate studies, invisibility cloaking, ultrashort laser propagation in water, and anthrax detection. To list just a few among his seminal contributions, he was the first to show that the clouds of Venus were not water, which was the view held by two eminent scientists Carl Sagan and Richard Goody. It was this seminal work which led to the ultimate determination of the Venus cloud composition. He is one of the first researchers to apply Monte Carlo techniques to radiative transfer in planetary atmospheres. This technique is now being used by researchers all over the world and is also now being used in medical physics. He gave the first correct explanation of the “Ring effect” which had remained an enigma for over twenty years. This paper was designated by a world-renowned scientist at NASA to be the best paper of the decade in atmospheric science. Dr. Kattawar and his collaborators developed one of the most powerful time dependent, three-dimensional Monte Carlo codes capable of handling full Mueller matrix solutions for a coupled atmosphere-ocean system with a fully stochastic interface. This code will become the “Gold Standard” for all future researchers in biomedical, atmospheric, and oceanic optics. He is one of the first to show that nonspherical objects can be made totally invisible if the optical properties are selected in the right way. Dr. Kattawar received many awards and recognitions, including Fellow of the Optical Society of America (1976); Amoco Foundation Teaching Excellence Award (1981); Teacher/Scholar Award (1990), Nils Gunnar Jerlov Award (2014), and van de Hulst Light Scattering Award (2015); He was also elected for two, three-year terms on the Committee on Recommendations for U.S. Army Basic Scientific Research under the National Research Council. He is a former Associate Editor of the Journal of Geophysical Research-Oceans and a former Associate Editor of the Journal of Transport Theory and Statistical Physics. He was selected to be editor of the Society of Photo-Optical Instrumentation Engineers (SPIE) Milestone Series on “Multiple Scattering in Plane Parallel Atmospheres and Oceans: Techniques”. He was selected (2009) to serve on the External Advisory Board of the Stevens Institute of Technology to assess their engineering and science programs. He was appointed as Academic Advisor of the Board of Directors of the Texas Academy of Science. He was selected by Applied Optics as one of the 50 most prolific authors in the last 50 years.

The story of Barbie is a tapestry woven with threads of cultural significance, societal shifts, and corporate narratives. It’s a tale that encapsulates the evolution of American post-war capitalism, mirroring the changing tides of social norms, aspirations, and identities. Barbie’s journey from Germany to Los Angeles, along the way becoming a global icon, is a testament to the power of Ruth Handler’s vision and Barbie’s marketing. Barbie embodies and reflects the rise of mass consumption and the early days of television advertising, where one doll could become a household name and shape the dreams of children worldwide. The controversies and criticisms surrounding Barbie – from promoting a ‘thin ideal’ to perpetuating gender and racial stereotypes – highlight the complexities of representation in popular culture. Yet, Barbie’s enduring message, “You can be anything”, continues to inspire and empower, even as it evolves to embrace a more inclusive and diverse portrayals of power, beauty, and potential. Barbie’s story is not just about a doll; it’s about the aspirations she represents, the societal changes she’s witnessed, and the ongoing conversation about her impact on gender roles, body image, and consumer culture. It’s a narrative that continues to unfold, as Barbie adapts to the times and remains a symbol of possibility. Barbie: A Popular Culture Icon “It is impossible to conceive of the toy industry as being anything other than dependent on a popular culture which shapes and structures the meanings carried by toys” (Fleming 40). The relationship between toys and popular culture is symbiotic. While popular culture influences the creation of toys, toys also contribute to the spread and longevity of cultural icons and narratives. Today, one of the most influential, popular, and contested toys of the twentieth century is Mattel’s Barbie doll. Her launch at the New York Toy Fair on 9 March 1959 by Mattel co-founder Ruth Handler was a game-changer in the toy industry. Her adult appearance, symbolised by her fashionable swimsuit and ponytail, was a bold move by Mattel. Despite the doubts from the toy industry which thought nobody would want to play with a doll that had breasts (Tamkin) and Mattel’s skepticism of its commercial success (Westenhouser 14), Barbie was a success, selling over 350,000 units in her first year, and she quickly became an iconic figure, paving the way for other male and female adult dolls. For the first time in mid-century America, Barbie meant children could play with a doll that looked like a woman, not a little girl or a baby. In a 1965 interview, Ruth Handler argued that American girls needed a doll with a “teen-age figure and a lot of glorious, imaginative, high-fashion clothes” (cited in Giacomin and Lubinski 3). In a 1993 interview, Handler said it was “important that Barbie allowed play situations that little girls could project themselves into … to imagine, pretend and to fantasize”. Hence Ruth Handler’s Barbie could be an “avatar for girls to project their dreams onto” (Southwell). Barbie hit the market with a “sassy ponytail, heavy eyeliner, a healthy dose of side-eye and a distinctly adult body” (Blackmore). Her arched eyebrows were matched with a coy sideways glance reflecting her sexual origins (Thong). Mattel did not reveal that Ruth Handler’s Barbie was inspired by a German novelty men’s toy, Bild Lilli, which Handler had purchased on a European holiday in 1955. Mattel fought several lawsuits and eventually secured the rights to Bild Lilli in 1964, which required the German maker of the Bild Lilli doll to not make her again. Barbie dolls, both blonde and brunette, changed little until 1967, when Mattel launch the ‘new’ Barbie doll which is the foundation for today’s Stereotypical Barbie. The same size as the original, thanks to Mattel engineer Jack Ryan she could twist and turn at the waist. Her facial features were softened, she had ‘real’ eyelashes’ and took on an ‘outdoor look’. The new 1967 version of Barbie originally retailed for US$3.00. Mattel, assuming consumers may not want to buy a new Barbie when they already had one, offered buyers the new Barbie at US$1.50 if they traded in their old 1950s Barbie. The television advertising campaign for the new Barbie featured Maureen McMormick (who would go on to play Marcia Brady in the TV series The Brady Bunch from 1969 to 1974). The original #1 Barbie today sells for over US$25,000 (Reinhard). The most expensive Barbie sold to date was a Stefano Canturi-designed Barbie that sold in 2010 for US$302,500 at Christies in New York (Clarendon). Barbie has been described as “the most successful doll in history”, “the most popular toy in history”, the “empress of fashion dolls” (Rogers 86), the “most famous doll in the world” (Ferorelli), the biggest-selling fashion doll in history (Green and Gellene), and is one if the world’s “most commercially successful toys” (Fleming 41). Barbie is both “idealistic and materialistic” and characterises an “American fantasy” (Tamkin). More so, she is a popular culture icon and “a unique indicator of women’s history” (Vander Bent). The inclusion of Barbie in America’s twentieth-century Time Capsule “cemented her status as a true American icon” (Ford), as did Andy Warhol when he iconised Barbie in his 1968 painting of her (Moore). During the 1950s and 1960s, Barbie’s name was licenced to over 100 companies; while a strategic move that expanded Barbie’s brand presence, it also provided Mattel with substantial royalty payments for decades. This approach helped solidify Barbie’s status as a cultural icon and enabled her to become a lucrative asset for Mattel (Rogers). Sixty-five years later, Barbie has 99% global brand awareness. In 2021, Mattel shipped more than 86 million Barbies globally, manufacturing 164 Barbies a minute (Tomkins). In 2022, Barbie generated gross sales of US$1.49 billion (Statista 2023). With this fiscal longevity and brand recognition, the success of the Barbie film is not surprising. The 2023 film, directed by Greta Gerwig and starring Australian Margot Robbie as Barbie and Canadian Ryan Gosling as Ken, as of March 2024 has a global box office revenue of US$1.45 billion, making it the 14th most successful movie of all time and the most successful movie directed by a woman (Statista 2024). Contested Barbie Despite her popularity, Barbie has been the subject of controversy. Original Barbie’s proportions have been criticised for promoting an unrealistic body image (Thong). Barbie’s appearance has received numerous critiques for “representing an unrealistic beauty standard through its former limited skin tone and hair combination” (Lopez). The original Barbie’s measurements, if scaled to life-size, would mean Barbie is unusually tall and has a slim figure, with a height of 5 feet 9 inches, a waist of just 18 inches, and hips of approximately 33 inches. Her bust would measure around 32 inches with an under-bust of 22 inches, and her shoulder width would be approximately 28 inches. Original Barbie’s legs, which are proportionally longer than an average human’s, would make up more than half her height (Thong). A 1996 Australian study scaled Barbie and Ken to adult sizes and compared this with the physical proportions of a range of women and men. They found that the likelihood of finding a man of comparable shape to Ken was 1 in 50. Barbie was more problematic. The chance of a woman being the same proportion as Barbie was 1 in 100,000 (Norton et al. 287). In 2011, The Huffington Post’s Galia Slayen built a life-sized Barbie based on Barbie’s body measurements for National Eating Disorder Awareness Week. Slayen concluded that “if Barbie was a real woman, she’d have to walk on all fours due to her proportions”. One report found that if Barbie’s measurements were those of a real woman her “bones would be so frail, it would be impossible for her to walk, and she would only have half a liver” (Golgowski). A 2006 study found that Barbie is a “possible cause” for young girls’ “body dissatisfaction”. In this study, 162 girls from age 5 to 8 were exposed to images of a thin doll (Barbie), a plus-size doll (US doll Emme, size 16), or no doll, and then completed assessments of body image. Girls exposed to Barbie reported “lower body esteem and greater desire for a thinner body shape than girls in the other exposure conditions”. The study concluded that “early exposure to dolls epitomizing an unrealistically thin body ideal may damage girls' body image, which would contribute to an increased risk of disordered eating and weight cycling” (Dittman and Halliwell 283). Another study in 2016 found that “exposure to Barbie” led to “higher thin-ideal internalization”, but found that Barbie had no “impact on body esteem or body dissatisfaction” (Rice et al. 142). In response to such criticism, Mattel slowly introduced a variety of Barbie dolls with more diverse body types, including tall, petite, and curvy models (Tamkin). These changes aim to reflect a broader range of beauty standards and promote a more positive body image. Barbie has always had to accommodate social norms. For this reason, Barbie always must have underpants, and has no nipples. One of the reasons why Ruth Handler’s husband Elliott (also a co-founder of Mattel) was initially against producing the Barbie doll was that she had breasts, reportedly saying mothers would not buy their daughters a doll with breasts (Gerber). Margot Robbie, on playing Barbie, told one news outlet that while Barbie is “sexualized”, she “should never be sexy” (Aguirre). Early prototypes of Barbie made in Japan in the 1950s sexualised her body, leaving her to look like a prostitute. In response, Mattel hired film make-up artist Bud Westmore to redo Barbie’s face and hair with a softer look. Mattel also removed the nipples from the prototypes (Gerber). Barbie’s body and fashion have always seemed to “replicate history and show what was what was happening at the time” (Mowbray), and they also reflect how the female body is continually surveilled. Feminists have had a long history of criticism of Barbie, particularly her projection of the thin ideal. At the 1970 New York Women’s Strike for Equality, feminists shouted “I am not a Barbie doll!” Such debates exemplify the role and impact of toys in shaping and reforming societal norms and expectations. Even the more recent debates regarding the 2023 Barbie film show that Barbie is still a “lightning rod for the messy, knotty contradictions of feminism, sexism, misogyny and body image” (Chappet). Decades of criticism about Barbie, her meaning and influence, have left some to ask “Is Barbie a feminist icon, or a doll which props up the patriarchy?” Of course, she’s both, because “like all real women, Barbie has always been expected to conform to impossible standards” (Chappet). Diversifying Barbie Over the decades Mattel has slowly changed Barbie’s body, including early versions of a black Barbie-like dolls in the 1960s and 1970s such as Francie, Christie, Julia, and Cara. However, it was not until 1980 that Mattel introduced the first black Barbie. African American fashion designer Kitty Black-Perkins, who worked for Mattel from 1971, was the principal designer for black Barbie, saying that “there was a need for the little Black girl to really have something she could play with that looked like her” (cited in Lafond). Black Barbie was marketed as She’s black! She’s beautiful! She’s dynamite! The following year, Asian Barbie was introduced. She was criticised for her nondescript country of origin and dressed in an “outfit that was a mishmash of Chinese, Korean and Japanese ethnic costumes” (Wong). More recently, the Asian Barbies were again criticised for portraying stereotypes, with a recent Asian Barbie dressed as a veterinarian caring for pandas, and Asian violinist Barbie with accompanying violin props, reflecting typical stereotypes of Asians in the US (Wong). In 2016, Mattel introduced a range of Barbie and Ken dolls with seven body types, including more curvy body shapes, 11 skin tones and 28 hairstyles (Siazon). In 2019, other Barbie body types appeared, with smaller busts, less defined waist, and more defined arms. The 2019 range also included Barbies with permanent physical disabilities, one using a wheelchair and one with a prosthetic leg (Siazon). Wheelchair Barbie comes with a wheelchair, and her body has 22 joints for body movement while sitting in the wheelchair. The Prosthetic Barbie comes with a prosthetic leg which can be removed, and was made in collaboration with Jordan Reeve, a 13-year-old disability activist born without a left forearm. In 2020, a No Hair Barbie and a Barbie with the skin condition vitiligo were introduced, and in 2022, Hearing Aid Barbie was also launched. In 2022 other changes were made to Barbie’s and Ken’s bodies, with bodies that became fuller figured and Kens with smaller chests and less masculine body shapes (Dolan). Down Syndrome Barbie was released in 2023, designed in collaboration with the US National Down Syndrome Society to ensure accurate representation. By 2024, Barbie dolls come in 35 skin tones, 97 hairstyles, and nine body types (Mattel 2024). Spanning hundreds of iterations, today the Barbie doll is no longer a homogenous, blond-haired, blue-eyed toy, but rather an evolving social phenomenon, adapting with the times and the markets Mattel expands into. With dolls of numerous ethnicities and body types, Barbie has also embraced inclusivity, catering to the plethora of different consumers across the world (Green and Gellene 1989). Career Barbie While not dismissing Barbie’s problematic place in feminist, gender and racial critiques, Barbie has always been a social influencer. Her early years were marked by a variety of makeovers and modernisations, as have recent changes to Barbie’s body, reflecting the changing social norms of the times. Stereotypical Barbie had her first major makeover in 1961, with her ponytail swapped for a short ‘Bubble Bob’ hairstyle inspired by Jackie Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe, reflecting women’s emerging social independence (Foreman). In the early 1970s, Barbie’s original demure face with averted eyes was replaced by a new one that “depicted confidence and a forward-facing gaze” (Vander Bent). Her “soft look” was a departure from the mature image of the original 1959 Barbie (Lafond). The ‘soft look’ on Malibu Barbie with her newly sculpted face featured an open smile for the first time, as well as sun-tanned, make-up free skin and sun-kissed blonde hair. The disappearance of Barbie’s coy, sideways glance and the introduction of forward-looking eyes was a development “welcomed by feminists” (Ford). Barbie’s early makeovers, along with her fashion and accessories, including her homes, cars, and pets, contributed to shaping her image as a fashionable and independent woman. Barbie’s various careers and roles have been used to promote ideas of female empowerment. From astronaut to presidential candidate, Barbie has broken barriers in traditionally male-dominated fields. However, the effectiveness of these efforts in promoting female empowerment is a topic of debate. The post-war period in America saw a significant shift in the pattern of living, with a move from urban areas to the suburbs. This was facilitated by a robust post-war economy, favourable government policies like the GI Bill, and increasing urbanisation. The GI Bill played a crucial role by providing low-interest home loans to veterans, making home ownership accessible to a large segment of the population. It was a significant transformation of the American lifestyle and shaped the country’s socio-economic landscape. It is in this context that Barbie’s first Dreamhouse was introduced in the early 1960s, with its mid-century modern décor, hi-fi stereo, and slim-line furniture. This was at a time when most American women could not get a mortgage. Barbie got her first car in 1962, a peach-colored Austin-Healey 3000 MKII convertible, followed short afterwards by a Porsche 911. She has also owned a pink Jaguar XJS, a pink Mustang, a red Ferrari, and a Corvette. Barbie’s car choices of luxurious convertibles spoke to Barbie’s social and economic success. In 1998, Barbie became a NASCAR driver and also signed up to race in a Ferrari in the Formula 1. Barbie’s ‘I Can Be Anything’ range from 2008 was designed to draw kids playing with the dolls toward ambitious careers; one of those careers was as a race car driver (Southwell). While Barbie’s first job as a baby-sitter was not as glamourous or well-paying as her most of her other over 250 careers, it does reflect the cultural landscape Barbie was living in in the 1960s. Babysitter Barbie (1963) featured Barbie wearing a long, pink-striped skirt with ‘babysitter’ emblasoned along the hem and thick-framed glasses. She came with a baby in a crib, a telephone, bottles of soda, and a book. The book was called How to Lose Weight and had only two words of advice, ‘Don’t Eat’. Even though there was a backlash to the extreme dieting advice, Mattel included the book in the 1965 Slumber Party Barbie. Barbie wore pink silk pajamas with a matching robe and came prepared for her sleepover with toiletries, a mirror, the controversial diet book, and a set of scales permanently set at 110 pounds (approx. 50kg), which caused further backlash (Ford). Barbie’s early careers were those either acceptable or accessible to women of the era, such as the Fashion Designer Barbie (1960), Flight Attendant Barbie (1961), and Nurse Barbie (1962). However, in 1965 Barbie went into space, two years after cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova became the first woman in space, and four years before the American moon landing. Barbie’s career stagnated in the 1970s, and she spends the decade being sports Barbie, perhaps as a response to her unpopularity among vocal second wave feminists and reflecting the economic downturn of the era. America’s shift to the right in the 1980s saw in the introduction of the Yuppie, the young urban professional who lived in the city, had a high-powered career, and was consumption-driven. More women were entering the workforce than ever before. Barbie also entered the workforce, spending less time doing the passive leisure of her earlier self (Ford). It also signals the beginning of neoliberalism in America, and a shift to individualism and the rise of the free market ethos. In 1985, Day-to-Night Barbie was sold as the first CEO Barbie who “could go from running the boardroom in her pink power suit to a fun night out on the town”. For Mattel she “celebrated the workplace evolution of the era and showed girls they could have it all”. But despite Barbie’s early careers, the focus was on her "emphasized femininity”, meaning that while she was now a career woman, her appearance and demeanor did not reflect her job. Astronaut Barbie (1985) is a good example of Barbie’s ‘emphasised femininity’ in how career Barbies were designed and dressed. Astronaut Barbie is clearly reflecting the fashion and culture trends of the 1980s by going into space in a “shiny, hot pink spacesuit”, comes with a second space outfit, a shiny “peplum miniskirt worn over silver leggings and knee-high pink boots” (Bertschi), and her hair is too big to fit into the helmet. A dark-skinned US Astronaut Barbie was released in 1994, which coincided with the start of the Shuttle-Mir Program, a collaboration between the US and Russia which between 1994 and 1998 would see seven American astronauts spend almost 1,000 days living in orbit with Russian cosmonauts on the Mir space station. Throughout the 1990s, Barbie increasingly takes on careers more typically considered to be male careers. But again, her femininity in design, dressing and packaging takes precedence over her career. Police Officer Barbie (1993), for example, has no gun or handcuffs. Instead, she comes with a "glittery evening dress" to wear to the awards dance where she will get the "Best Police Officer Award for her courageous acts in the community”. Police Office Barbie is pictured on the box "lov[ing] to teach safety tips to children". Barbie thus “feminizes, even maternalises, law enforcement” (Rogers 14). In 1992, Teen Talk Barbie was released. She had a voice box programmed to speak four distinct phrases out of a possible 270. She sold for US$25, and Mattel produced 350,000, expecting its popularity. The phrases included ‘I Love Shopping’ and ‘Math class is tough’. The phrase ‘Math class is tough’ was seen by many as reinforcing harmful stereotypes about girls and math. The National Council of American Teachers of Maths objected, as did the American Association of University Women (NYT 1992). In response to criticisms of the gendered representations of Barbie’s careers, Mattel have more recently featured Barbie in science and technology fields including Paleontologist Barbie (1996 and 2012), Computer Engineer Barbie (2010), Robotics Engineer Barbie (2018), Astrophysicist Barbie (2019), Wildlife Conservationist Barbie, Entomologist Barbie (2019), and Polar Marine Biologist Barbie (all in collaboration with National Geographic), Robotics Engineer Barbie (2018), Zoologist Barbie (2021), and Renewable Energy Barbie (2022), which go some way to providing representations that at least encompass the ideal that ‘Girls Can Do Anything’. Barbie over her lifetime has also taken on swimming, track and field, and has been a gymnast. Barbie was an Olympic gold medallist in the 1970s, with Mattel releasing four Barbie Olympians between 1975 and 1976, arguably cashing in on the 1976 Montreal Olympics. Gold Medal Barbie Doll Skier was dressed in a red, white, and blue ski suit completed with her gold medal. Gold Medal Barbie Doll is an Olympic swimmer wearing a red, white, and blue tricot swimsuit, and again wears an Olympic gold medal around her neck. The doll was also produced as a Canadian Olympian wearing a red and white swimsuit. Gold Medal Barbie Skater looks like Barbie Malibu and is dressed in a long-sleeved, pleated dress in red, white, and blue. The outfit included white ice skates and her gold medal. Mattel also made a Gold Medal P.J. Gymnast Doll who vaulted and somersaulted in a leotard of red, white, and blue tricot. She had a warm-up jacket with white sleeves, red cuffs, white slippers, and a gold medal. Mattel, as part of a licencing agreement with the International Olympic Committee, produced a range of toys for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics. The collection of five Barbies represented the new sports added to the 2020 Olympics: baseball and softball, sport climbing, karate, skateboarding, and surfing. Each Barbie was dressed in a sport-specific uniform and had a gold medal. Barbie Olympic Games Tokyo 2020 Surfer, for example, was dressed in a pink wetsuit top, with an orange surfboard and a Tokyo 2020 jacket. For the 2022 Winter Olympics and Paralympics, Mattel released a new collection of Barbie dolls featuring among others a para-skiing Barbie who sits on adaptive skis and comes with a championship medal (Douglas). As part of Mattel’s 2023 Barbie Career of the Year doll, the Women in Sports Barbie range shows Barbie in leadership roles in the sports industry, as manager, coach, referee, and sport reporter. General Manager Barbie wears a blue-and-white pinstripe suit accessorised with her staff pass and a smartphone. Coach Barbie has a pink megaphone, playbook, and wears a two-piece pink jacket and athletic shorts. Referee Barbie wears a headset and has a whistle. Sports Reporter Barbie wears a purple, geometric-patterned dress and carries a pink tablet and microphone (Jones). Political Barbie Barbie has run for president in every election year since 1992. The first President Barbie came with an American-themed dress for an inaugural ball and a red suit for her duties in the Oval Office. In 2016, Barbie released an all-female presidential ticket campaign set with a president and vice-president doll. The 2000 President Barbie doll wore a blue pantsuit and featured a short bob cut, red lipstick pearl necklace, and a red gown to change into, “presumably for President Barbie’s inaugural ball” (Lafond). This followed the introduction of UNICEF Ambassador Barbie in 1989. She is packaged as a member of the United States Committee for UNICEF (United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund), which is mandated to provide humanitarian and development aid to children worldwide. Rather problematically, and again with a focus on her femininity rather than the importance of the organisation she represents, she wears a glittery white and blue full length ball gown with star patterning and a red sash. While some proceeds did go to the US Committee for UNICEF, the dressing and packaging featuring an American flag overshadows the career and its philanthropic message. The period signalled the end of the Cold War and was also the year the United States invaded Panama, resulting in a humanitarian disaster when US military forces attacked urban areas in order to overthrow the Noriega administration. Military Barbie Barbie has served in every US military branch (Sicard). Barbie joined the US army in 1989, wearing a female officer’s evening uniform, though with no sense of what she did. While it may be thought Barbie would increase female in interest in a military career, at the time more women were already enlisting that in any other period from the early 1970s to 2012 (Stillwell). Barbie rejoined the army for the 1990-1991 Gulf War, wearing a Desert Combat Uniform and the 101st Airborne "Screaming Eagle" patch, and serving as a medic. Barbie also joined the Air Force in 1990, three years before Jeannie Leavitt became the first female Air Force fighter pilot. Barbie wore a green flight suit and leather jacket, and gold-trimmed flight cap. She was a fighter pilot and in 1994, she joined the USAF aerial demonstration team, The Thunderbirds. Busy in the 1990s, she also enlisted in the US Navy wearing women's Navy whites. Marine Corps Barbie appeared in 1992, wearing service and conduct medals (Stillwell). All of Barbie’s uniforms were approved by the Pentagon (Military Women’s Memorial). The 2000 Paratrooper Barbie Special Edition was released with the packaging declaring “let’s make a support drop with first aid and food boxes”. She was dressed in undefined military attire which includes a helmet, dog tags, parachute, boots, and hairbrush. Barbie’s Influence In 2014, Barbie became a social media influencer with the launch of the @barbiestyle Instagram account, and in 2015, Barbie launched a vlog on YouTube to talk directly to girls about issues they face. The animated series features Barbie discussing a range of topics including depression, bullying, the health benefits of meditation, and how girls have a habit of apologising when they don’t have anything to be sorry about. The Official @Barbie YouTube channel has over eleven million global subscribers and 23 billion minutes of content watched, making Barbie the #1 girls’ brand on YouTube. Barbie apps average more than 7 million monthly active users and the Instagram count boasts over 2 million followers. The 2023 Barbie film really does attest to Barbie’s influence 70 years after her debut. Barbie, as this article has shown, is more than an influencer and more than a doll, if she ever really was only a doll. She is a popular culture icon, regardless of whether we love her or not. Barbie has sometimes been ahead of the game, and sometimes has been problematically represented, but she has always been influential. Her body, race, ability, careers, independence, and political aspirations have spoken different things to those who play with her. She is fiercely defended, strongly criticised, and shirks from neither. She is also liberating, empowering, straight, and queer. As the articles in this issue reflect, Barbie, it seems, really can be anything. Imagining and Interrogating Barbie in Popular Culture The feature article in this issue outlines how Australian Barbie fans in the 1960s expressed their creativity through the designing and making of their own wardrobes for the doll. Through examining articles from the Australian Women’s Weekly, Donna Lee Brien reveals this rich cultural engagement that was partly driven by thrift, and mostly by enjoyment. Eva Boesenberg examines the social and environmental effects of a plastic doll that is positioned as an ecological ambassador. While there is no doubt that climate change is one of our most pressing social issues, Boesenberg questions the motivations behind Barbie’s eco-crusade: is she an apt role-model to teach children the importance of environmental issues, or is this just a case of corporate greenwashing? Emma Caroll Hudson shifts the focus to entertainment, with an exploration of the marketing of the 2023 blockbuster film Barbie. Here she argues that the marketing campaign was highly successful, utilising a multi-faceted approach centred on fan participation. She highlights key components of the campaign to reveal valuable insights into how marketing can foster a cultural phenomenon. Revna Altiok’s article zooms in on the depiction of Ken in the 2023 film, revealing his characterisation to be that of a ‘manic pixie dream boy’ whose lack of identity propels him on a journey to self-discovery. This positioning, argues Altiok, pulls into focus social questions around gender dynamics and how progress can be truly achieved. Rachel Wang turns the spotlight to Asian identity within the Barbie world, revealing how from early iterations a vague ‘Oriental’ Barbie was accompanied by cultural stereotyping. Despite later, more nuanced interpretations of country-specific Asian dolls, problematic features remained embedded. This, Wang argues, positions Asian Barbies as the racial ‘other’. Kaela Joseph, Tanya Cook, and Alena Karkanias’s article examines how the 2023 Barbie film reflects different forms of fandom. Firstly, Joseph interrogates how the Kens’ patriarchal identity is expressed through acts of collective affirmational fandom. Here, individual fans legitimise their positions within the group by mastering and demonstrating their knowledge of popular culture phenomena. Joseph contrasts this with transformational fandom, which is based upon reimagining the source material to create new forms. The transformation of the titular character of the Barbie movie forms the basis of Eli S’s analysis. S examines how the metaphor of ‘unboxing’ the doll provides an avenue through which to understand Barbie’s metamorphosis from constrained doll to aware human as she journeys from the pink plastic Barbie Land to the Real World. Anna Temel turns her critical gaze to how the 2023 film attempts to reposition Barbie’s image away from gender stereotypes to a symbol of feminist empowerment. Director Greta Gerwig, Temel argues, critiques the ‘ideal woman’ and positions Barbie as a vehicle through which contemporary feminism and womanhood can be interrogated. Temel finds that this is not always successfully articulated in the depiction of Barbie in the film. The reading of the Barbie movie’s Barbie Land as an Asexual Utopia is the focus of Anna Maria Broussard’s article. Here Broussard draws the focus to the harmonious community of dolls who live without social expectations of sexuality. Barbie provides a popular culture reflection of the Asexual experience, expressed through Barbie’s rejection of a heteronormative relationship both in Barbie Land and the Real World. Completing this collection is Daisy McManaman’s article interrogating the multiple iterations of the doll’s embodied femininity. Incorporating an ethnographic study of the author’s relationship with the doll, McManaman uncovers that Barbie serves as a site of queer joy and a role model through which to enjoy and explore femininity and gender. These articles have been both intellectually stimulating to edit, and a joy. We hope you enjoy this collection that brings a new academic lens to the popular cultural phenomenon that is Barbie. References Aguirre, Abby. “Barbiemania! Margot Robbie Opens Up about the Movie Everyone’s Waiting For.” Vogue, 24 May 2023. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://www.vogue.com/article/margot-robbie-barbie-summer-cover-2023-interview>. Bertschi, Jenna. “Barbie: An Astronaut for the Ages.” Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, 18 Jul. 2023. 11 Mar. 2024 <https://airandspace.si.edu/stories/editorial/barbie-astronaut-ages>. Blackmore, Erin. “Barbie’s Secret Sister Was a German Novelty Doll.” History.com, 14 Jul. 2023. 11 mar. 2024 <https://www.history.com/news/barbie-inspiration-bild-lilli>. Chappet, Marie-Claire. “Why Is Barbie So Controversial? How Ever-Changing Standards for Women Have Affected the Famous Doll.” Harpers Bazaar, 18 Jul. 2023. 11 Mar. 2024 <https://www.harpersbazaar.com/uk/culture/culture-news/a44516323/barbie-controversial-figure/>. Clarendon, Dan. “The Most Valuable Barbie Doll Auctioned for $302,500 — Which Others Carry Value?” Market Realist, 14 Apr. 2023. 15 Mar. 2o24 <https://marketrealist.com/fast-money/most-valuable-barbies/>. Dittman, Helga, and Emma Halliwell. “Does Barbie Make Girls Want to Be Thin? The Effect of Experimental Exposure to Images of Dolls on the Body Image of 5- to 8-Year Old Girls.” Developmental Psychology 42.2 (2006): 283-292. DOI: 10.1037/0012-1649.42.2.283. Dolan, Leah. “Barbie Unveils Its First-Ever Doll with Hearing Aids.” CNN, 11 May 2022. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://edition.cnn.com/style/article/barbie-hearing-aid-ken-vitiligo/index.html>. Douglas, Kelly. “Why the New Para Skiing Barbie Is Groundbreaking for Disability Representation.” The Mighty, 21 Oct. 2023. 25 Mar. 2024 <https://themighty.com/topic/disability/para-skiing-barbie-disability-representation/>. Ferorelli, Enrico. “Barbie Turns 21.” Life, Nov. 1979. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://chnm.gmu.edu/cyh/primary-sources/310.html>. Fleming, Dan. Powerplay: Toys as Popular Culture. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996. Ford, Toni Marie. “The History of the Barbie Doll.” Culture Trip, 6 Oct. 2016. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/usa/articles/the-history-of-the-barbie-doll>. Foreman, Katya. “The Changing Faces of Barbie.” BBC, 11 May 2016. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20160511-the-changing-faces-of-barbie>. Gerber, Ruth. Barbie and Ruth: The Story of the World's Most Famous Doll and the Woman Who Created Her. HarperCollins, 2009. Giacomin, Valeria, and Christina Lubinski. 2023. “Entrepreneurship as Emancipation: Ruth Handler and the Entrepreneurial Process ‘in Time’ and ‘over Time’, 1930s–1980s.” Business History Online. 20 Mar. 2024 <https://doi.org/10.1080/00076791.2023.2215193>. Golgowski, Nina. “Bones So Frail It Would Be Impossible to Walk and Room for Only Half a Liver: Shocking Research Reveals What Life Would Be Like If a REAL Woman Had Barbie's body.” Daily Mirror, 14 Apr. 2013. 19 Mar. 2024 <https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2308658/How-Barbies-body-size-look-real-life-Walking-fours-missing-half-liver-inches-intestine.html>. Green, Michelle, and Denise Gellene. “As a Tiny Plastic Star Turns 30, the Real Barbie and Ken Reflect on Life in the Shadow of the Dolls.” People, 6 Mar. 1989. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://people.com/archive/as-a-tiny-plastic-star-turns-30-the-real-barbie-and-ken-reflect-on-life-in-the-shadow-of-the-dolls-vol-31-no-9/>. Jones, Alexis. “Barbie's New 'Women in Sports' Dolls Are a Major Win For Athletes and Fans.” Popsugar, 9 Aug. 2023. 17 Mar. 2024 <https://www.popsugar.com/family/mattel-women-in-sports-barbie-49268194>. Lafond, Hannah. “How Barbies Have Changed over the Years.” The List, 7 Jul. 2023. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://www.thelist.com/1333916/barbies-changed-over-the-years/>. Lopez, Sandra. “10 Barbie Dolls Inspired by Real-Life Iconic Latinas.” Remezcla, 19 Jul. 2023. 20 Mar. 2024 <https://remezcla.com/lists/culture/barbie-dolls-inspired-by-real-life-iconic-latinas/>. Military Women’s Memorial. “Barbie Enlists.” 15 Mar. 2024 <https://womensmemorial.org/curators-corner/barbie-enlists/>. Moore, Hannah. “Why Warhol Painted Barbie.” BBC, 1 Oct. 2015. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-34407991>. Mowbray, Nicole. “Dressing Barbie: Meet the Designer Who Created a Miniature Fashion Icon.” CNN, 14 Jul. 2023. 17 Mar. 2024 <https://edition.cnn.com/style/dressing-barbie-iconic-fashion-looks>. New York Times. “Mattel Says It Erred; Teen Talk Barbie Turns Silent on Math." 21 Oct. 1992. 20 Mar. 2024 <https://www.nytimes.com/1992/10/21/business/company-news-mattel-says-it-erred-teen-talk-barbie-turns-silent-on-math.html>. Norton, Kevin, et al. “Ken and Barbie at Life Size.” Sex Roles 34 (1996): 287-294. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF01544300. Reinhard, Abby. “Here's How Much Your Childhood Barbies Are Really Worth Now, New Data Shows.” Best Life, 14 Jul. 2023. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://bestlifeonline.com/how-much-are-barbies-worth-now-news/>. Rice, Karlie, et al. “Exposure to Barbie: Effects on Thin-Ideal Internalisation, Body Esteem, and Body Dissatisfaction among Young Girls.” Body Image 19 (2016): 142-149. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bodyim.2016.09.005. Rogers, Mary, F. Barbie Culture. Sage, 1999. Siazon, Kevin John. “The New 2019 Barbie Fashionistas Are More Diverse than Ever.” Today’s Parents, 12 Feb. 2019. 19 Mar. 2024 <https://www.todaysparent.com/blogs/trending/the-new-2019-barbie-fashionistas-are-more-diverse-than-ever/>. Sicard. Sarah. “A Few Good Dolls: Barbie Has Served in Every Military Branch.” Military Times, 28 Jul. 2023. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://www.militarytimes.com/off-duty/military-culture/2023/07/27/a-few-good-dolls-barbie-has-served-in-every-military-branch/>. Slayen, Galia. “The Scary Reality of a Real-Life Barbie Doll.” Huffington Post, 8 Apr. 2011. 19 Mar. 2024 <https://www.huffpost.com/entry/the-scary-reality-of-a-re_b_845239>. Southwell, Haxel. “Plastic on Track: Barbie's History in Motorsport”. Road and Track, 21 Jul. 2023. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://www.roadandtrack.com/car-culture/a44588941/plastic-on-track-barbie-history-in-motorsport/>. Statista. “Gross Sales of Mattel's Barbie Brand Worldwide from 2012 to 2022.” 2023. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://www.statista.com/statistics/370361/gross-sales-of-mattel-s-barbie-brand/>. ———. “Highest-Grossing Movies of All Time as of 2024.” 2024. 31 May 2024 <https://www.statista.com/statistics/262926/box-office-revenue-of-the-most-successful-movies-of-all-time/>. Stillwell, Blake. “Barbie and Ken Went to War Long before the 'Barbie' Movie.” Military.com, 26 Jul. 2023. 15 Mar. 2024 <https://www.military.com/off-duty/movies/2023/07/26/barbie-and-ken-went-war-long-barbie-movie.html>. Tamkin, Emily. Cultural History of Barbie.” Smithsonian, 23 Jun. 2023. 17 Mar. 2024 <https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/cultural-history-barbie-180982115/>. Thong, Hang. “Barbie’s Doll Dimensions.” OmniSize, 29 Nov. 2023. 19 Mar. 2024 <https://omnisizes.com/hobbies/barbie-doll/>. Vander Bent, Emily. “The Evolution of Barbie: A Marker for Women’s History.” Girl Museum, 12 Apr. 2021. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://www.girlmuseum.org/the-evolution-of-barbie-a-marker-for-womens-history/>. Westenhouser, Kitturah B. The Story of Barbie. Collector Books, 1994. Wong, Bryan. “Daniel Wu Slams Barbie Maker Mattel for Stereotyping Asians as ‘Panda Doctors’ and ‘Violinists.’” Today Online, 24 Jan. 2024. 16 Mar. 2024 <https://www.todayonline.com/8days/daniel-wu-slams-barbie-maker-mattel-stereotyping-asians-panda-doctors-and-violinists-2347786>.

RECIPIENTS of The Endocrine Society’s Laureate Awards are selected annually by the Awards Committee. The Laureate Awards are presented to endocrinologists, members or nonmembers, from anywhere in the world. Each recipient is presented with an award certificate and is honored at the Society’s annual Awards Dinner in June. Nominations may be submitted by Society members only. A complete listing of all past awardees is available on the Society’s web site, www.endo-society.org. Nominations must be submitted by early April on the appropriate nomination form. The nomination form may be obtained by visiting the Society web site or by contacting The Endocrine Society. Fred Conrad Koch Award In 1957 a substantial legacy was bequeathed to the Society by the late Elizabeth Koch for the purpose of establishing the Fred Conrad Koch Memorial Fund in memory of her late husband, Distinguished Service Professor of Physiological Chemistry at the University of Chicago, and pioneer in the isolation of the androgens. This is the highest honor of the Society and is presented with the Koch Medal of The Endocrine Society, as well as a $25,000 honorarium. The award is given annually for exceptional contributions to endocrinology. The recipients of this award for the past ten years were: Ronald M. Evans and Michael G. Rosenfeld, 1999; C. Ronald Kahn, 2000; Robert J. Lefkowitz, 2001; Jan-Åke Gustafsson, 2002; Maria I. New, 2003; Patricia K. Donahoe, 2004; William F. Crowley, Jr., 2005; Gerald M. Reaven, 2006; John D. Baxter, 2007; and P. Reed Larsen, 2008. Ernst Oppenheimer Memorial Award The Ernst Oppenheimer Memorial Award was first presented by The Endocrine Society in 1944 and is the premier award to a young investigator in recognition of meritorious accomplishments in the field of basic or clinical endocrinology. The recipient must not have reached age 45 by July 1 of the year in which the award is presented. The award includes a $3,000 honorarium. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Ursula B. Kaiser, 2004; Steven A. Kliewer, 2005; Charis Eng, 2006; Rohit N. Kulkarni, 2007; and Joel K. Elmquist and Randy J. Seeley, 2008. Robert H. Williams Distinguished Leadership Award The Robert H. Williams Distinguished Leadership Award was established by Dr. Robert H. Williams in 1970. The award is presented annually in recognition of outstanding leadership in endocrinology as exemplified by the recipient’s contributions and those of his/her trainees and associates to teaching, research, and administration. Distinguished leadership in endocrinology and metabolism may be manifest in a variety of ways and activities (international, national, and local). This award includes a $5,000 honorarium. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: David M. de Kretser, 2004; Gordon H. Williams, 2005; Richard J. Santen, 2006; Lewis E. Braverman, 2007; and Ron G. Rosenfeld, 2008. Edwin B. Astwood Award Lecture The Edwin B. Astwood Award Lecture is awarded for outstanding research in endocrinology. The recipient presents a plenary lecture at the annual meeting to honor the late Dr. Edwin B. Astwood of Boston. The award includes a $2,000 honorarium. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Paolo Sassone-Corsi, 2004; Willa A. Hsueh, 2005; Mitchell A. Lazar, 2006; Lawrence C. Chan, 2007; and John A. Cidlowski, 2008. Clinical Investigator Award Lecture The Clinical Investigator Award Lecture is presented to an internationally recognized clinical investigator who has made major contributions to clinical research related to the pathogenesis, pathophysiology, and therapy of endocrine disease. The recipient presents a plenary lecture at the annual meeting and receives a $3,500 honorarium. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Shlomo Melmed, 2004; Paul M. Stewart, 2005; Walter L. Miller, 2006; Stephen O’Rahilly, 2007; and John C. Marshall, 2008. Gerald D. Aurbach Award Lecture This award was first presented in 1993 in honor of the late Dr. Gerald D. Aurbach, who served as president of The Endocrine Society from 1989–1990. This award is presented for outstanding contributions to research in endocrinology. Dr. Aurbach received his B.A. and M.D. from the University of Virginia. After his training in endocrinology at Tufts University School of Medicine, he joined the Public Health Service and the National Institutes of Health in 1959 and had served as chief of the Metabolic Disease Branch, National Institute of Diabetes, Digestive and Kidney Diseases since 1973. He was the first to isolate PTH and played a key role in discovering the hormone’s biochemical mechanism of action in bone disease and calcium metabolism. The recipient presents a plenary lecture at the annual meeting and receives an honorarium of $1,000. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: David J. Mangelsdorf, 2004; David R. Clemmons, 2005; Paul A. Kelly, 2006; Eve Van Cauter, 2007; and Andrew F. Stewart, 2008. Sidney H. Ingbar Distinguished Service Award The Sidney H. Ingbar Distinguished Service Award is named in honor of the 65th President of The Endocrine Society and presented in recognition of distinguished service in the field of endocrinology. The award includes a $2,000 honorarium. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Margaret A. Shupnik, 2004; P. Michael Conn, 2005; Robert D. Utiger, 2006; Robert A. Vigersky, 2007; and Lisa H. Fish, 2008. Roy O. Greep Award Lecture This award was first presented in 1999 in memory of Dr. Roy O. Greep, President of The Endocrine Society in 1965–1966, Editor-in-Chief of Endocrinology, and President of the Laurentian Hormone Conference. He retired in 1974 as director emeritus of the Laboratory of Human Reproductive Biology at Harvard’s Medical School and as the John Rock Professor Emeritus of Population Studies at Harvard’s School of Public Health. Dr. Greep received international recognition as a pioneer in the field of endocrinology, receiving the Society’s highest honor, the Fred Conrad Koch Award, in 1971. Dr. Greep will be remembered by his colleagues as a remarkable investigator, a loyal friend, and a patient and devoted teacher. The recipient of this award presents a plenary lecture at the annual meeting and receives a $1,000 honorarium. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Phyllis M. Wise, 2004; Evan R. Simpson, 2005; Benita S. Katzenellenbogen and John Katzenellenbogen, 2006; Sally A. Camper, 2007; and Nancy Lynn Weigel, 2008. Distinguished Educator Award This award was established by the Society in 1998 to recognize exceptional achievement of educators in the field of endocrinology and metabolism. The award includes an honorarium of $3,000. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: E. Brad Thompson, 2004; Ernest L. Mazzaferri, 2005; Gilbert H. Daniels, 2006; Kenneth L. Becker, 2007; and Ronald S. Swerdloff, 2008. Distinguished Physician Award The Distinguished Physician Award was established by the Society in 1998 to honor physicians who have made outstanding contributions to the practice of endocrinology. The award includes an honorarium of $3,000. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Edward S. Horton, 2004; Robert M. Carey, 2005; Glenn D. Braunstein, 2006; Bernardo L. Wajchenberg, 2007; and F. John Service, 2008. Richard E. Weitzman Memorial Award This award was established in 1982 to honor outstanding research achievements in the field of endocrinology and metabolism by a young investigator. The award was established in memory of the late Dr. Richard E. Weitzman. Born in 1943, Dr. Weitzman was educated at Cornell University and the State University of New York Upstate Medical Center (Syracuse). He received training in endocrinology at the University of Virginia and the Harbor-UCLA School of Medicine, rising to the rank of Associate Professor, and began a productive career studying neurohypophyseal hormone and cardiovascular-endocrine physiology. In honor of Dr. Weitzman, an anonymous donor has provided funds for an annual award of $1,000 to be given to an exceptionally promising young investigator who has not reached the age of 40 before July 1 of the year in which the award is presented. The award is based on the contributions and achievements of the nominee’s independent scholarship performed after completion of training and shall be based on the entire body of these contributions, rather than a single work. The recipients of this award for the past five years were: Tso-Pang Yao, 2004; Peter Tontonoz, 2005; Fabio Broglio, 2006; W. Lee Kraus, 2007; and Tannishtha Reya, 2008. The Endocrine Society and Pfizer, Inc. International Award for Excellence in Published Clinical Research in The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism In 1998, “The Endocrine Society and Pfizer, Inc. International Award for Excellence in Published Clinical Research in The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism (JCE&M)” was established to encourage, recognize, and reward excellence in clinical research published in JCE&M. There are no restrictions with respect to professional affiliation or geographic location. Each year, a jury selects the four best clinical research papers published in JCE&M in a volume year. Each finalist paper receives a $10,000 award. In addition to the monetary prize, the award includes coach airline travel, meeting registration, hotel for one night, and one day’s per diem for one author on each paper to attend the Society’s annual meeting in June. The announcement of the winners is made in April each year with the awards presented at The Endocrine Society annual meeting in June. Papers accepted for publication but not yet published are not eligible until the year that they are actually published.

IntroductionIn 1802 George Howe (1769-1821), the recently appointed Government Printer, published Australia’s first book. The following year he established Australia’s first newspaper; an enterprise that ran counter to all the environmental factors of the day, including: 1) issues of logistics and a lack of appropriate equipment and basic materials to produce a regularly issued newspaper; 2) issues resulting from the very close supervision of production and the routine censorship by the Governor; and 3) issues associated with the colony’s primary purposes as a military outpost and as a penal settlement, creating conflicts between very different readerships. The Sydney Gazette was, critically for Howe, the only newspaper in the infant city for over two decades. Alternative voices would not enter the field of printed media until the 1820s and 1830s. This article briefly explores the birth of an Australian industry and looks at how a very modest newspaper overcame a range of serious challenges to ignite imaginations and lay a foundation for media empires.Government Printer The first book published in Australia was the New South Wales General Standing Orders and General Orders (1802), authorised by Governor Philip Gidley King for the purposes of providing a convenient, single-volume compilation of all Government Orders, issued in New South Wales, between 1791 and 1802. (As the Australian character has been described as “egalitarian, anti-authoritarian and irreverent” [D. Jones 690], it is fascinating that the nation’s first published book was a set of rules.) Prescribing law, order and regulation for the colony the index reveals the desires of those charged with the colony’s care and development, to contain various types of activities. The rules for convicts were, predictably, many. There were also multiple orders surrounding administration, animal husbandry as well as food stuffs and other stores. Some of the most striking headings in the index relate to crime. For example, in addition to headings pertaining to courts there are also headings for a broad range of offences from: “BAD Characters” to “OFFENSIVE Weapons – Again[s]t concealing” (i-xii). The young colony, still in its teenage years, was, for the short-term, very much working on survival and for the long-term developing ambitious plans for expansion and trade. It was clear though, through this volume, that there was no forgetting the colony of New South Wales was first, and foremost, a penal settlement which also served as a military outpost. Clear, too, was the fact that not all of those who were shipped out to the new colony were prepared to abandon their criminal careers which “did not necessarily stop with transportation” (Foyster 10). Containment and recidivism were matters of constant concern for the colony’s authorities. Colonial priorities could be seen in the fact that, when “Governor Arthur Phillip brought the first convicts (548 males and 188 females) to Port Jackson on 26 January 1788, he also brought a small press for printing orders, rules, and regulations” (Goff 103). The device lay dormant on arrival, a result of more immediate concerns to feed and house all those who made up the First Fleet. It would be several years before the press was pushed into sporadic service by the convict George Hughes for printing miscellaneous items including broadsides and playbills as well as for Government Orders (“Hughes, George” online). It was another convict (another man named George), convicted at the Warwick Assizes on March 1799 (Ferguson vi) then imprisoned and ultimately transported for shoplifting (Robb 15), who would transform the small hand press into an industry. Once under the hand of George Howe, who had served as a printer with several London newspapers including The Times (Sydney Gazette, “Never” 2) – the printing press was put to much more regular use. In these very humble circumstances, Australia’s great media tradition was born. Howe, as the Government Printer, transformed the press from a device dedicated to ephemera as well as various administrative matters into a crucial piece of equipment that produced the new colony’s first newspaper. Logistical Challenges Governor King, in the year following the appearance of the Standing Orders, authorised the publishing of Australia’s first newspaper, The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser. The publication history of The Sydney Gazette, in a reflection of some of the challenges faced by the printer, is erratic. First published on a Saturday from 5 March 1803, it quickly changed to a Sunday paper from 10 April 1803. Interestingly, Sunday “was not an approved day for the publication of newspapers, and although some English publishers had been doing so since about 1789, Sunday papers were generally frowned upon” (Robb 58). Yet, as argued by Howe a Sunday print run allowed for the inclusion of “the whole of the Ship News, and other Incidental Matter, for the preceeding week” (Sydney Gazette, “To the Public” 1).The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser Vol. 1, No. 1, 5 March 1803 (Front Page)Call Number DL F8/50, Digital ID a345001, State Library of New South WalesPublished weekly until 1825, then bi-weekly until 1827 before coming out tri-weekly until 20 October 1842 (Holden 14) there were some notable pauses in production. These included one in 1807 (Issue 214, 19 April-Issue 215, 7 June) and one in 1808-1809 (Issue 227, 30 August-Issue 228, 15 May) due to a lack of paper, with the latter pause coinciding with the Rum Rebellion and the end of William Bligh’s term as Governor of New South Wales (see: Karskens 186-88; Mundle 323-37). There was, too, a brief attempt at publishing as a daily from 1 January 1827 which lasted only until 10 February of that year when the title began to appear tri-weekly (Kirkpatrick online; Holden 14). There would be other pauses, including one of two weeks, shortly before the final issue was produced on 20 October 1842. There were many problems that beset The Sydney Gazette with paper shortages being especially challenging. Howe regularly advertised for: “any quantity” of Spanish paper (e.g.: Sydney Gazette, “Wanted to Purchase” 4) and needing to be satisfied “with a variety of size and colour” (P.M. Jones 39). In addition, the procurement of ink was so difficult in the colony, that Howe often resorted to making his own out of “charcoal, gum and shark oil” (P.M. Jones 39).The work itself was physically demanding and papers printed during this period, by hand, required a great deal of effort with approximately “250 sheets per hour … [the maximum] produced by a printer and his assistant” (Robb 8). The printing press itself was inadequate and the subject of occasional repairs (Sydney Gazette, “We Have” 2). Type was also a difficulty. As Gwenda Robb explains, traditionally six sets of an alphabet were supplied to a printer with extras for ‘a’, ‘e’, ‘r’ and ‘t’ as well as ‘s’. Without ample type Howe was required to improvise as can be seen in using a double ‘v’ to create a ‘w’ and an inverted ‘V’ to represent a capital ‘A’ (50, 106). These quirky work arounds, combined with the use of the long-form ‘s’ (‘∫’) for almost a full decade, can make The Sydney Gazette a difficult publication for modern readers to consume. Howe also “carried the financial burden” of the paper, dependent, as were London papers of the late eighteenth century, on advertising (Robb 68, 8). Howe also relied upon subscriptions for survival, with the collection of payments often difficult as seen in some subscribers being two years, or more, in arrears (e.g.: Sydney Gazette, “Sydney Gazette” 1; Ferguson viii; P.M. Jones 38). Governor Lachlan Macquarie granted Howe an annual salary, in 1811, of £60 (Byrnes 557-559) offering some relief, and stability, for the beleaguered printer.Gubernatorial Supervision Governor King wrote to Lord Hobart (then Secretary of State for War and the Colonies), on 9 May 1803: it being desirable that the settlers and inhabitants at large should be benefitted by useful information being dispersed among them, I considered that a weekly publication would greatly facilitate that design, for which purpose I gave permission to an ingenious man, who manages the Government printing press, to collect materials weekly, which, being inspected by an officer, is published in the form of a weekly newspaper, copies of which, as far as they have been published, I have the honor to enclose. (85)In the same letter, King wrote: “to the list of wants I have added a new fount of letters which may be procured for eight or ten pounds, sufficient for our purpose, if approved of” (85). King’s motivations were not purely altruistic. The population of the colony was growing in Sydney Cove and in the outlying districts, thus: “there was an increasing administrative need for information to be disseminated in a more accessible form than the printed handbills of government orders” (Robb 49). There was, however, a need for the administration to maintain control and the words “Published By Authority”, appearing on the paper’s masthead, were a constant reminder to the printer that The Sydney Gazette was “under the censorship of the Secretary to the Governor, who examined all proofs” (Ferguson viii). The high level of supervision, worked in concert with the logistical difficulties described above, ensured the newspaper was a source of great strain and stress. All for the meagre reward of “6d per copy” (Ferguson viii). This does not diminish Howe’s achievement in establishing a newspaper, an accomplishment outlined, with some pride, in an address printed on the first page of the first issue:innumerable as the Obstacles were which threatened to oppose our Undertaking, yet we are happy to affirm that they were not insurmountable, however difficult the task before us.The utility of a PAPER in the COLONY, as it must open a source of solid information, will, we hope, be universally felt and acknowledged. (Sydney Gazette, “Address” 1)Howe carefully kept his word and he “wrote nothing like a signature editorial column, nor did he venture his personal opinions, conscious always of the powers of colonial officials” (Robb 72). An approach to reportage he passed to his eldest son and long-term assistant, Robert (1795-1829), who later claimed The Sydney Gazette “reconciled in one sheet the merits of the London Gazette in upholding the Government and the London Times in defending the people” (Walker 10). The censorship imposed on The Sydney Gazette, by the Governor, was lifted in 1824 (P.M. Jones 40), when the Australian was first published without permission: Governor Thomas Brisbane did not intervene in the new enterprise. The appearance of unauthorised competition allowed Robert Howe to lobby for the removal of all censorship restrictions on The Sydney Gazette, though he was careful to cite “greater dispatch and earlier publication, not greater freedom of expression, as the expected benefit” (Walker 6). The sudden freedom was celebrated, and still appreciated many years after it was given:the Freedom of the Press has now been in existence amongst us on the verge of four years. In October 1824, we addressed a letter to the Colonial Government, fervently entreating that those shackles, under which the Press had long laboured, might be removed. Our prayer was attended to, and the Sydney Gazette, feeling itself suddenly introduced to a new state of existence, demonstrated to the Colonists the capabilities that ever must flow from the spontaneous exertions of Constitutional Liberty. (Sydney Gazette, “Freedom” 2)Early Readerships From the outset, George Howe presented a professional publication. The Sydney Gazette was formatted into three columns with the front page displaying a formal masthead featuring a scene of Sydney and the motto “Thus We Hope to Prosper”. Gwenda Robb argues the woodcut, the first produced in the colony, was carved by John W. Lewin who “had plenty of engraving skills” and had “returned to Sydney [from a voyage to Tahiti] in December 1802” (51) while Roger Butler has suggested that “circumstances point to John Austin who arrived in Sydney in 1800” as being the engraver (91). The printed text was as vital as the visual supports and every effort was made to present full accounts of colonial activities. “As well as shipping and court news, there were agricultural reports, religious homilies, literary extracts and even original poetry written by Howe himself” (Blair 450). These items, of course, sitting alongside key Government communications including General Orders and Proclamations.Howe’s language has been referred to as “florid” (Robb 52), “authoritative and yet filled with deference for all authority, pompous in a stiff, affected eighteenth century fashion” (Green 10) and so “some of Howe’s readers found the Sydney Gazette rather dull” (Blair 450). Regardless of any feelings towards authorial style, circulation – without an alternative – steadily increased with the first print run in 1802 being around 100 copies but by “the early 1820s, the newspaper’s production had grown to 300 or 400 copies” (Blair 450).In a reflection of the increasing sophistication of the Sydney-based reader, George Howe, and Robert Howe, would also publish some significant, stand-alone, texts. These included several firsts: the first natural history book printed in the colony, Birds of New South Wales with their Natural History (1813) by John W. Lewin (praised as a text “printed with an elegant and classical simplicity which makes it the highest typographical achievement of George Howe” [Wantrup 278]); the first collection of poetry published in the colony First Fruits of Australian Poetry (1819) by Barron Field; the first collection of poetry written by a Australian-born author, Wild Notes from the Lyre of a Native Minstrel (1826) by Charles Tompson; and the first children’s book A Mother’s Offering to Her Children: By a Lady, Long Resident in New South Wales (1841) by Charlotte Barton. The small concern also published mundane items such as almanacs and receipt books for the Bank of New South Wales (Robb 63, 72). All against the backdrop of printing a newspaper.New Voices The Sydney Gazette was Australia’s first newspaper and, critically for Howe, the only newspaper for over two decades. (A second paper appeared in 1810 but the Derwent Star and Van Diemen’s Land Intelligencer, which only managed twelve issues, presented no threat to The Sydney Gazette.) No genuine, local rival entered the field until 1824, when the Australian was founded by barristers William Charles Wentworth and Robert Wardell. The Monitor debuted in 1826, followed the Sydney Herald in 1831 and the Colonist in 1835 (P.M. Jones 38). It was the second title, the Australian, with a policy that asserted articles to be: “Independent, yet consistent – free, yet not licentious – equally unmoved by favours and by fear” (Walker 6), radically changed the newspaper landscape. The new paper made “a strong point of its independence from government control” triggering a period in which colonial newspapers “became enmeshed with local politics” (Blair 451). This new age of opinion reflected how fast the colony was evolving from an antipodean gaol into a complex society. Also, two papers, without censorship restrictions, without registration, stamp duties or advertisement duties meant, as pointed out by R.B. Walker, that “in point of law the Press in the remote gaol of exile was now freer than in the country of origin” (6). An outcome George Howe could not have predicted as he made the long journey, as a convict, to New South Wales. Of the early competitors, the only one that survives is the Sydney Herald (The Sydney Morning Herald from 1842), which – founded by immigrants Alfred Stephens, Frederick Stokes and William McGarvie – claims the title of Australia’s oldest continuously published newspaper (Isaacs and Kirkpatrick 4-5). That such a small population, with so many pressing issues, factions and political machinations, could support a first newspaper, then competitors, is a testament to the high regard, with which newspaper reportage was held. Another intruder would be The Government Gazette. Containing only orders and notices in the style of the London Gazette (McLeay 1), lacking any news items or private advertisements (Walker 19), it was first issued on 7 March 1832 (and continues, in an online format, today). Of course, Government orders and other notices had news value and newspaper proprietors could bid for exclusive rights to produce these notices until a new Government Printer was appointed in 1841 (Walker 20).Conclusion George Howe, an advocate of “reason and common sense” died in 1821 placing The Sydney Gazette in the hands of his son who “fostered religion” (Byrnes 557-559). Robert Howe, served as editor, experiencing firsthand the perils and stresses of publishing, until he drowned in a boating accident in Sydney Harbour, in 1829 leaving the paper to his widow Ann Howe (Blair 450-51). The newspaper would become increasingly political leading to controversy and financial instability; after more changes in ownership and in editorial responsibility, The Sydney Gazette, after almost four decades of delivering the news – as a sole voice and then as one of several alternative voices – ceased publication in 1842. During a life littered with personal tragedy, George Howe laid the foundation stone for Australia’s media empires. His efforts, in extraordinary circumstances and against all environmental indicators, serve as inspiration to newspapers editors, proprietors and readers across the country. He established the Australian press, an institution that has been described asa profession, an art, a craft, a business, a quasi-public, privately owned institution. It is full of grandeurs and faults, sublimities and pettinesses. It is courageous and timid. It is fallible. It is indispensable to the successful on-going of a free people. (Holden 15)George Howe also created an artefact of great beauty. The attributes of The Sydney Gazette are listed, in a perfunctory manner, in most discussions of the newspaper’s history. The size of the paper. The number of columns. The masthead. The changes seen across 4,503 issues. Yet, consistently overlooked, is how, as an object, the newspaper is an exquisite example of the printed word. There is a physicality to the paper that is in sharp contrast to contemporary examples of broadsides, tabloids and online publications. Concurrently fragile and robust: its translucent sheets and mottled print revealing, starkly, the problems with paper and ink; yet it survives, in several collections, over two centuries since the first issue was produced. The elegant layout, the glow of the paper, the subtle crackling sound as the pages are turned. The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser is an astonishing example of innovation and perseverance. It provides essential insights into Australia’s colonial era. It is a metonym for making words matter. AcknowledgementsThe author offers her sincere thanks to Geoff Barker, Simon Dwyer and Peter Kirkpatrick for their comments on an early draft of this paper. The author is also grateful to Bridget Griffen-Foley for engaging in many conversations about Australian newspapers. ReferencesBlair, S.J. “Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser.” A Companion to the Australian Media. Ed. Bridget Griffen-Foley. North Melbourne: Australian Scholarly Publishing, 2014.Butler, Roger. Printed Images in Colonial Australia 1801-1901. Canberra: National Gallery of Australia, 2007.Byrnes, J.V. “Howe, George (1769–1821).” Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography: 1788–1850, A–H. Canberra: Australian National University, 1966. 557-559. Ferguson, J.A. “Introduction.” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser: A Facsimile Reproduction of Volume One, March 5, 1803 to February 26, 1804. Sydney: The Trustees of the Public Library of New South Wales in Association with Angus & Robertson, 1963. v-x. Foyster, Elizabeth. “Introduction: Newspaper Reporting of Crime and Justice.” Continuity and Change 22.1 (2007): 9-12.Goff, Victoria. “Convicts and Clerics: Their Roles in the Infancy of the Press in Sydney, 1803-1840.” Media History 4.2 (1998): 101-120.Green, H.M. “Australia’s First Newspaper.” Sydney Morning Herald, 11 Apr. 1935: 10.Holden, W. Sprague. Australia Goes to Press. Detroit: Wayne State UP, 1961. “Hughes, George (?–?).” Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography: 1788–1850, A–H. Canberra: Australian National University, 1966. 562. Isaacs, Victor, and Rod Kirkpatrick. Two Hundred Years of Sydney Newspapers. Richmond: Rural Press, 2003. Jones, Dorothy. “Humour and Satire (Australia).” Encyclopedia of Post-Colonial Literatures in English. 2nd ed. Eds. Eugene Benson and L.W. Conolly. London: Routledge, 2005. 690-692.Jones, Phyllis Mander. “Australia’s First Newspaper.” Meanjin 12.1 (1953): 35-46. Karskens, Grace. The Colony: A History of Early Sydney. Crows Nest: Allen & Unwin, 2010. King, Philip Gidley. “Letter to Lord Hobart, 9 May 1803.” Historical Records of Australia, Series 1, Governors’ Despatches to and from England, Volume IV, 1803-1804. Ed. Frederick Watson. Sydney: Library Committee of the Commonwealth Parliament, 1915.Kirkpatrick, Rod. Press Timeline: 1802 – 1850. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2011. 6 Jan. 2017 <https://www.nla.gov.au/content/press-timeline-1802-1850>. McLeay, Alexander. “Government Notice.” The New South Wales Government Gazette 1 (1832): 1. Mundle, R. Bligh: Master Mariner. Sydney: Hachette, 2016.New South Wales General Standing Orders and General Orders: Selected from the General Orders Issued by Former Governors, from the 16th of February, 1791, to the 6th of September, 1800. Also, General Orders Issued by Governor King, from the 28th of September, 1800, to the 30th of September, 1802. Sydney: Government Press, 1802. Robb, Gwenda. George Howe: Australia’s First Publisher. Kew: Australian Scholarly Publishing, 2003.Spalding, D.A. Collecting Australian Books: Notes for Beginners. 1981. Mawson: D.A. Spalding, 1982. The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser. “Address.” 5 Mar. 1803: 1.———. “To the Public.” 2 Apr. 1803: 1.———. “Wanted to Purchase.” 26 June 1803: 4.———. “We Have the Satisfaction to Inform Our Readers.” 3 Nov. 1810: 2. ———. “Sydney Gazette.” 25 Dec. 1819: 1. ———. “The Freedom of the Press.” 29 Feb. 1828: 2.———. “Never Did a More Painful Task Devolve upon a Public Writer.” 3 Feb. 1829: 2. Walker, R.B. The Newspaper Press in New South Wales, 1803-1920. Sydney: Sydney UP, 1976.Wantrup, Johnathan. Australian Rare Books: 1788-1900. Sydney: Hordern House, 1987.

On 23 August 2005, John Howard, then Prime Minister, called together Muslim ‘representatives’ from around the nation for a Muslim Summit in response to the London bombings in July of that year. One of the outcomes of the two hour summit was a Statement of Principles committing Muslim communities in Australia to resist radicalisation and pursue a ‘moderate’ Islam. Since then the ill-defined term ‘moderate Muslim’ has been used in both the political and media discourse to refer to a preferred form of Islamic practice that does not challenge the hegemony of the nation state and that is coherent with the principles of secularism. Akbarzadeh and Smith conclude that the terms ‘moderate’ and ‘mainstream’ are used to describe Muslims whom Australians should not fear in contrast to ‘extremists’. Ironically, the policy direction towards regulating the practice of Islam in Australia in favour of a state defined ‘moderate’ Islam signals an attempt by the state to mediate the practice of religion, undermining the ethos of secularism as it is expressed in the Australian Constitution. It also – arguably – impacts upon the citizenship rights of Australian Muslims in so far as citizenship presents not just as a formal set of rights accorded to an individual but also to democratic participation: the ability of citizens to enjoy those rights at a substantive level. Based on the findings of research into how Australian Muslims and members of the broader community are responding to the political and media discourses on terrorism, this article examines the impact of these discourses on how Muslims are practicing citizenship and re-defining an Australian Muslim identity. Free Speech Free speech has been a hallmark of liberal democracies ever since its defence became part of the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. The Australian Constitution does not expressly contain a provision for free speech. The right to free speech in Australia is implied in Australia’s ratification of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), article 19 of which affirms: Article 19. Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. The ultimate recent endorsement of free speech rights, arguably associated with the radical free speech ‘open platform’ movement of the 1960s at the University of California Berkeley, constructs free speech as essential to human and civil liberties. Its approach has been expressed in terms such as: “I reject and detest XYZ views but will defend to the utmost a person’s right to express them”. An active defence of free speech is based on the observation that, unless held to account, “[Authorities] would grant free speech to those with whom they agree, but not to minorities whom they consider unorthodox or threatening” (“Online Archives of California”). Such minorities, differing from the majority view, do so as a right accorded to citizens. In very challenging circumstances – such as opposing the Cold War operations of the US Senate Anti-American Activities Committee – the free speech movement has been celebrated as holding fast (or embodying a ‘return’) to the true meaning of the American First Amendment. It was in public statements of unpopular and minority views, which opposed those of the majority, that the right to free speech could most non-controvertibly be demonstrated. Some have argued that such rights should be balanced by anti-vilification legislation, by prohibitions upon incitement to violence, and by considerations as to whether the organisation defended by the speaker was banned. In the latter case, there can be problems with excluding the defence of banned organisations from legitimate debate. In the 1970s and 1980s, for example, Sinn Fein was denounced in the UK as the ‘political wing of the IRA’ (the IRA being a banned organisation) and denied a speaking position in many forums, yet has proved to be an important party in the eventual reconciliation of the Northern Ireland divide. In effect, the banning of an organisation is a political act and such acts should best be interrogated through free speech and democratic debate. Arguably, such disputation is a responsibility of an involved citizenry. In general, liberal democracies such as Australia do not hesitate to claim that citizens have a right to free speech and that this is a right worth defending. There is a legitimate expectation by Australians of their rights as citizens to freedom of expression. For some Australian Muslims, however, the appeal to free speech seems a hollow one. Muslim citizens run the risk of being constructed as ‘un-Australian’ when they articulate their concerns or opinions. Calls by some Muslim leaders not to reprint the Danish cartoons depicting images of the Prophet Mohammed for example, met with a broader community backlash and drew responses that, typically, constructed Muslims as a threat to Australian cultural values of freedom and liberty. These kinds of responses to expressions by Australian Muslims of their deeply held convictions are rarely, if ever, interpreted as attempts to curtail Australian Muslims’ rights to free speech. There is a poor fit between what many Australian Muslims believe and what they feel the current climate in Australia allows them to say in the public domain. Positioned as the potential ‘enemy within’ in the evolving media and political discourse post September 11, they have been allocated restricted speaking positions on many subjects from the role and training of their Imams to the right to request Sharia courts (which could operate in parallel with Australian courts in the same way that Catholic divorce/annulment courts do). These social and political restrictions lead them to question whether Muslims enjoy citizenship rights on an equal footing with Australians from the broader community. The following comment from an Australian woman, an Iraqi refugee, made in a research interview demonstrates this: The media say that if you are Australian it means that you enjoy freedom, you enjoy the rights of citizenship. That is the idea of what it means to be Australian, that you do those things. But if you are a Muslim, you are not Australian. You are a people who are dangerous, a people who are suspicious, a people who do not want democracy—all the characteristics that make up terrorists. So yes, there is a difference, a big difference. And it is a feeling all Muslims have, not just me, whether you are at school, at work, and especially if you wear the hijab. (Translated from Arabic by Anne Aly) At the same time, Australian Muslims observe some members of the broader community making strong assertions about Muslims (often based on misunderstanding or misinformation) with very little in the way of censure or rebuke. For example, again in 2005, Liberal backbenchers Sophie Panopoulos and Bronwyn Bishop made an emotive plea for the banning of headscarves in public schools, drawing explicitly on the historically inherited image of Islam as a violent, backward and oppressive ideology that has no place in Western liberal democracy: I fear a frightening Islamic class emerging, supported by a perverse interpretation of the Koran where disenchantment breeds disengagement, where powerful and subversive orthodoxies are inculcated into passionate and impressionable young Muslims, where the Islamic mosque becomes the breeding ground for violence and rejection of Australian law and ideals, where extremists hijack the Islamic faith with their own prescriptive and unbending version of the Koran and where extremist views are given currency and validity … . Why should one section of the community be stuck in the Dark Ages of compliance cloaked under a veil of some distorted form of religious freedom? (Panopoulos) Several studies attest to the fact that, since the terrorist attacks in the United States in September 2001, Islam, and by association Australian Muslims, have been positioned as other in the political and media discourse (see for example Aly). The construct of Muslims as ‘out of place’ (Saniotis) denies them entry and representation in the public sphere: a key requisite for democratic participation according to Habermas (cited in Haas). This notion of a lack of a context for Muslim citizenship in Australian public spheres arises out of the popular construction of ‘Muslim’ and ‘Australian’ as mutually exclusive modes of being. Denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as political citizens, Australian Muslims must pursue alternative communicative spaces. Some respond by limiting their expressions to closed spheres of communication – a kind of enforced silence. Others respond by pursuing alternative media discourses that challenge the dominant stereotypes of Muslims in Western media and reinforce majority-world cultural views. Enforced Silence In closed spheres of discussion, Australian Muslims can openly share their perceptions about terrorism, the government and media. Speaking openly in public however, is not common practice and results in forced silence for fear of reprisal or being branded a terrorist: “if we jump up and go ‘oh how dare you say this, rah, rah’, he’ll be like ‘oh he’s going to go off, he’ll blow something up’”. One research participant recalled that when his work colleagues were discussing the September 11 attacks he decided not to partake in the conversation because it “might be taken against me”. The participant made this decision despite the fact that his colleagues were expressing the opinion that United States foreign policy was the likely cause for the attacks—an opinion with which he agreed. This suggests some support for the theory that the fear of social isolation may make Australian Muslims especially anxious or fearful of expressing opinions about terrorism in public discussions (Noelle-Neumann). However, it also suggests that the fear of social isolation for Muslims is not solely related to the expression of minority opinion, as theorised in Noelle-Neumann’s Spiral of Silence . Given that many members of the wider community shared the theory that the attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade Centre in 2001 may have been a response to American foreign policy, this may well not be a minority view. Nonetheless, Australian Muslims hesitated to embrace it. Saniotis draws attention to the pressure on Australian Muslims to publicly distance themselves from the terrorist attacks of September 11 and to openly denounce the actions of terrorists. The extent to which Muslims were positioned as a threatening other was contingent on their ability to demonstrate that they too participated in the distal responses to the terrorist attacks—initial pity for the sufferer and eventual marginalisation and rejection of the perceived aggressor. Australian Muslims were obliged to declare their loyalty and commitment to Australia’s ally and, in this way, partake in the nationalistic responses to the threat of terrorism. At the same time however, Australian Muslims were positioned as an imagined enemy and a threat to national identity. Australian Muslims were therefore placed in a paradoxical bind- as Australians they were expected to respond as the victims of fear; as Muslims they were positioned as the objects of fear. Even in discussions where their opinions are congruent with the dominant opinion being expressed, Australian Muslims describe themselves as feeling apprehensive or anxious about expressing their opinions because of how these “might be taken”. Pursuing alternative discourses The overriding message from the research project’s Muslim participants was that the media, as a powerful purveyor of public opinion, had inculcated a perception of Muslims as a risk to Australia and Australians: an ‘enemy within’; the potential ‘home grown terrorist’. The daily experience of visibly-different Australian Muslims, however, is that they are more fearing than fear-inspiring. The Aly and Balnaves fear scale indicates that Australian Muslims have twice as many fear indicators as non-Muslims Australians. Disengagement from Western media and media that is seen to be influenced or controlled by the West is widespread among Australian Muslims who increasingly argue that the media institutions are motivated by an agenda that includes profit and the perpetuation of a negative stereotype of Muslims both in Australia and around the globe, particularly in relation to Middle Eastern affairs. The negative stereotypes of Muslims in the Australian media have inculcated a sense of victimhood which Muslims in Australia have used as the basis for a reconstruction of their identity and the creation of alternative narratives of belonging (Aly). Central to the notion of identity among Australian Muslims is a sense of having their citizenship rights curtailed by virtue of their faith: of being included in a general Western dismissal of Muslims’ rights and experiences. As one interviewee said: If you look at the Channel Al Jazeera for example, it’s a channel but they aren’t making up stories, they are taping videos in Iraqi, Palestine and other Muslim countries, and they just show it to people, that’s all they do. And then George Bush, you know, we hear on the news that George Bush was discussing with Tony Blair that he was thinking to bomb Al Jazeera so why would these people have their right to freedom and we don’t? So that’s why I think the people who are in power, they have the control over the media, and it’s a big political game. Because if it wasn’t then George Bush, he’s the symbol of politics, why would he want to bomb Al Jazeera for example? Amidst leaks and rumours (Timms) that the 2003 US bombing of Al Jazeera was a deliberate attack upon one of the few elements of the public sphere in which some Western-nationality Muslims have confidence, many elements of the mainstream Western media rose to Al Jazeera’s defence. For example, using an appeal to the right of citizens to engage in and consume free speech, the editors of influential US paper The Nation commented that: If the classified memo detailing President Bush’s alleged proposal to bomb the headquarters of Al Jazeera is provided to The Nation, we will publish the relevant sections. Why is it so vital that this information be made available to the American people? Because if a President who claims to be using the US military to liberate countries in order to spread freedom then conspires to destroy media that fail to echo his sentiments, he does not merely disgrace his office and soil the reputation of his country. He attacks a fundamental principle, freedom of the press—particularly a dissenting and disagreeable press—upon which that country was founded. (cited in Scahill) For other Australian Muslims, it is the fact that some media organisations have been listed as banned by the US that gives them their ultimate credibility. This is the case with Al Manar, for example. Feeling that they are denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as equal political citizens, Australian Muslims are pursuing alternative communicative spaces that support and reinforce their own cultural worldviews. The act of engaging with marginalised and alternative communicative spaces constitutes what Clifford terms ‘collective practices of displaced dwelling’. It is through these practices of displaced dwelling that Australian Muslims essentialise their diasporic identity and negotiate new identities based on common perceptions of injustice against Muslims. But you look at Al Jazeera they talk in the same tongue as the Western media in our language. And then you look again at something like Al Manar who talks of their own tongue. They do not use the other media’s ideas. They have been attacked by the Australians, been attacked by the Israelis and they have their own opinion. This statement came from an Australian Muslim of Jordanian background in her late forties. It reflects a growing trend towards engaging with media messages that coincide with and reinforce a sense of injustice. The Al Manar television station to which this participant refers is a Lebanese based station run by the militant Hezbollah movement and accessible to Australians via satellite. Much like Al Jazeera, Al Manar broadcasts images of Iraqi and Palestinian suffering and, in the recent war between Israel and Hezbollah, graphic images of Lebanese casualties of Israeli air strikes. Unlike the Al Jazeera broadcasts, these images are formatted into video clips accompanied by music and lyrics such as “we do not fear America”. Despite political pressure including a decision by the US to list Al Manar as a terrorist organisation in December 2004, just one week after a French ban on the station because its programming had “a militant perspective with anti-Semitic connotations” (Jorisch), Al Manar continued to broadcast videos depicting the US as the “mother of terrorism”. In one particularly graphic sequence, the Statue of Liberty rises from the depths of the sea, wielding a knife in place of the torch and dripping in blood, her face altered to resemble a skull. As she rises out of the sea accompanied by music resembling a funeral march the following words in Arabic are emblazoned across the screen: On the dead bodies of millions of native Americans And through the enslavement of tens of millions Africans The US rose It pried into the affairs of most countries in the world After an extensive list of countries impacted by US foreign policy including China, Japan, Congo, Vietnam, Peru, Laos, Libya and Guatamala, the video comes to a gruelling halt with the words ‘America owes blood to all of humanity’. Another video juxtaposes images of Bush with Hitler with the caption ‘History repeats itself’. One website run by the Coalition against Media Terrorism refers to Al Manar as ‘the beacon of hatred’ and applauds the decisions by the French and US governments to ban the station. Al Manar defended itself against the bans stating on its website that they are attempts “to terrorise and silence thoughts that are not in line with the US and Israeli policies.” The station claims that it continues on its mission “to carry the message of defending our peoples’ rights, holy places and just causes…within internationally agreed professional laws and standards”. The particular brand of propaganda employed by Al Manar is gaining popularity among some Muslims in Australia largely because it affirms their own views and opinions and offers them opportunities to engage in an alternative public space in which Muslims are positioned as the victims and not the aggressors. Renegotiating an ‘Othered’ Identity The negative portrayal of Muslims as ‘other’ in the Australian media and in political discourse has resulted in Australian Muslims constructing alternative identities based on a common perception of injustice. Particularly since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in September 2001 and the ensuing “war on terror”, the ethnic divisions within the Muslim diaspora are becoming less significant as Australian Muslims reconstruct their identity based on a notion of supporting each other in the face of a global alliance against Islam. Religious identity is increasingly becoming the identity of choice for Muslims in Australia. This causes problems, however, since religious identity has no place in the liberal democratic model, which espouses secularism. This is particularly the case where that religion is sometimes constructed as being at odds with the principles and values of liberal democracy; namely tolerance and adherence to the rule of law. This problematic creates a context in which Muslim Australians are not only denied their heterogeneity in the media and political discourse but are dealt with through an understanding of Islam that is constructed on the basis of a cultural and ideological clash between Islam and the West. Religion has become the sole and only characteristic by which Muslims are recognised, denying them political citizenship and access to the public spaces of citizenship. Such ‘essentialising practices’ as eliding considerable diversity into a single descriptor serves to reinforce and consolidate diasporic identity among Muslims in Australia, but does little to promote and assist participatory citizenship or to equip Muslims with the tools necessary to access the public sphere as political citizens of the secular state. In such circumstances, the moderate Muslim may be not so much a ‘preferred’ citizen as one whose rights has been constrained. Acknowledgment This paper is based on the findings of an Australian Research Council Discovery Project, 2005-7, involving 10 focus groups and 60 in-depth interviews. The authors wish to acknowledge the participation and contributions of WA community members. References Akbarzadeh, Shahram, and Bianca Smith. The Representation of Islam and Muslims in the Media (The Age and Herald Sun Newspapers). Melbourne: Monash University, 2005. Aly, Anne, and Mark Balnaves. ”‘They Want Us to Be Afraid’: Developing Metrics of the Fear of Terrorism.” International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 6 (2007): 113-122. Aly, Anne. “Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism in the Australian Popular Media.” Australian Journal of Social Issues 42.1 (2007): 27-40. Clifford, James. Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century. London: Harvard UP, 1997. Haas, Tanni. “The Public Sphere as a Sphere of Publics: Rethinking Habermas’s Theory of the Public Sphere.” Journal of Communication 54.1 (2004): 178- 84. Jorisch, Avi. J. “Al-Manar and the War in Iraq.” Middle East Intelligence Bulletin 5.2 (2003). Noelle-Neumann, Elisabeth. “The Spiral of Silence: A Theory of Public Opinion.” Journal of Communication 24.2 (1974): 43-52. “Online Archives of California”. California Digital Library. n.d. Feb. 2008 < http://content.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/kt1199n498/?&query= %22open%20platform%22&brand=oac&hit.rank=1 >. Panopoulos, Sophie. Parliamentary debate, 5 Sep. 2005. Feb. 2008 < http://www.aph.gov.au.hansard >. Saniotis, Arthur. “Embodying Ambivalence: Muslim Australians as ‘Other’.” Journal of Australian Studies 82 (2004): 49-58. Scahill, Jeremy. “The War on Al-Jazeera (Comment)”. 2005. The Nation. Feb. 2008 < http://www.thenation.com/doc/20051219/scahill >. Timms, Dominic. “Al-Jazeera Seeks Answers over Bombing Memo”. 2005. Media Guardian. Feb. 2008 < http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2005/nov/23/iraq.iraqandthemedia >.

On 23 August 2005, John Howard, then Prime Minister, called together Muslim ‘representatives’ from around the nation for a Muslim Summit in response to the London bombings in July of that year. One of the outcomes of the two hour summit was a Statement of Principles committing Muslim communities in Australia to resist radicalisation and pursue a ‘moderate’ Islam. Since then the ill-defined term ‘moderate Muslim’ has been used in both the political and media discourse to refer to a preferred form of Islamic practice that does not challenge the hegemony of the nation state and that is coherent with the principles of secularism. Akbarzadeh and Smith conclude that the terms ‘moderate’ and ‘mainstream’ are used to describe Muslims whom Australians should not fear in contrast to ‘extremists’. Ironically, the policy direction towards regulating the practice of Islam in Australia in favour of a state defined ‘moderate’ Islam signals an attempt by the state to mediate the practice of religion, undermining the ethos of secularism as it is expressed in the Australian Constitution. It also – arguably – impacts upon the citizenship rights of Australian Muslims in so far as citizenship presents not just as a formal set of rights accorded to an individual but also to democratic participation: the ability of citizens to enjoy those rights at a substantive level. Based on the findings of research into how Australian Muslims and members of the broader community are responding to the political and media discourses on terrorism, this article examines the impact of these discourses on how Muslims are practicing citizenship and re-defining an Australian Muslim identity. Free Speech Free speech has been a hallmark of liberal democracies ever since its defence became part of the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. The Australian Constitution does not expressly contain a provision for free speech. The right to free speech in Australia is implied in Australia’s ratification of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), article 19 of which affirms: Article 19. Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. The ultimate recent endorsement of free speech rights, arguably associated with the radical free speech ‘open platform’ movement of the 1960s at the University of California Berkeley, constructs free speech as essential to human and civil liberties. Its approach has been expressed in terms such as: “I reject and detest XYZ views but will defend to the utmost a person’s right to express them”. An active defence of free speech is based on the observation that, unless held to account, “[Authorities] would grant free speech to those with whom they agree, but not to minorities whom they consider unorthodox or threatening” (“Online Archives of California”). Such minorities, differing from the majority view, do so as a right accorded to citizens. In very challenging circumstances – such as opposing the Cold War operations of the US Senate Anti-American Activities Committee – the free speech movement has been celebrated as holding fast (or embodying a ‘return’) to the true meaning of the American First Amendment. It was in public statements of unpopular and minority views, which opposed those of the majority, that the right to free speech could most non-controvertibly be demonstrated. Some have argued that such rights should be balanced by anti-vilification legislation, by prohibitions upon incitement to violence, and by considerations as to whether the organisation defended by the speaker was banned. In the latter case, there can be problems with excluding the defence of banned organisations from legitimate debate. In the 1970s and 1980s, for example, Sinn Fein was denounced in the UK as the ‘political wing of the IRA’ (the IRA being a banned organisation) and denied a speaking position in many forums, yet has proved to be an important party in the eventual reconciliation of the Northern Ireland divide. In effect, the banning of an organisation is a political act and such acts should best be interrogated through free speech and democratic debate. Arguably, such disputation is a responsibility of an involved citizenry. In general, liberal democracies such as Australia do not hesitate to claim that citizens have a right to free speech and that this is a right worth defending. There is a legitimate expectation by Australians of their rights as citizens to freedom of expression. For some Australian Muslims, however, the appeal to free speech seems a hollow one. Muslim citizens run the risk of being constructed as ‘un-Australian’ when they articulate their concerns or opinions. Calls by some Muslim leaders not to reprint the Danish cartoons depicting images of the Prophet Mohammed for example, met with a broader community backlash and drew responses that, typically, constructed Muslims as a threat to Australian cultural values of freedom and liberty. These kinds of responses to expressions by Australian Muslims of their deeply held convictions are rarely, if ever, interpreted as attempts to curtail Australian Muslims’ rights to free speech. There is a poor fit between what many Australian Muslims believe and what they feel the current climate in Australia allows them to say in the public domain. Positioned as the potential ‘enemy within’ in the evolving media and political discourse post September 11, they have been allocated restricted speaking positions on many subjects from the role and training of their Imams to the right to request Sharia courts (which could operate in parallel with Australian courts in the same way that Catholic divorce/annulment courts do). These social and political restrictions lead them to question whether Muslims enjoy citizenship rights on an equal footing with Australians from the broader community. The following comment from an Australian woman, an Iraqi refugee, made in a research interview demonstrates this: The media say that if you are Australian it means that you enjoy freedom, you enjoy the rights of citizenship. That is the idea of what it means to be Australian, that you do those things. But if you are a Muslim, you are not Australian. You are a people who are dangerous, a people who are suspicious, a people who do not want democracy—all the characteristics that make up terrorists. So yes, there is a difference, a big difference. And it is a feeling all Muslims have, not just me, whether you are at school, at work, and especially if you wear the hijab. (Translated from Arabic by Anne Aly) At the same time, Australian Muslims observe some members of the broader community making strong assertions about Muslims (often based on misunderstanding or misinformation) with very little in the way of censure or rebuke. For example, again in 2005, Liberal backbenchers Sophie Panopoulos and Bronwyn Bishop made an emotive plea for the banning of headscarves in public schools, drawing explicitly on the historically inherited image of Islam as a violent, backward and oppressive ideology that has no place in Western liberal democracy: I fear a frightening Islamic class emerging, supported by a perverse interpretation of the Koran where disenchantment breeds disengagement, where powerful and subversive orthodoxies are inculcated into passionate and impressionable young Muslims, where the Islamic mosque becomes the breeding ground for violence and rejection of Australian law and ideals, where extremists hijack the Islamic faith with their own prescriptive and unbending version of the Koran and where extremist views are given currency and validity … . Why should one section of the community be stuck in the Dark Ages of compliance cloaked under a veil of some distorted form of religious freedom? (Panopoulos) Several studies attest to the fact that, since the terrorist attacks in the United States in September 2001, Islam, and by association Australian Muslims, have been positioned as other in the political and media discourse (see for example Aly). The construct of Muslims as ‘out of place’ (Saniotis) denies them entry and representation in the public sphere: a key requisite for democratic participation according to Habermas (cited in Haas). This notion of a lack of a context for Muslim citizenship in Australian public spheres arises out of the popular construction of ‘Muslim’ and ‘Australian’ as mutually exclusive modes of being. Denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as political citizens, Australian Muslims must pursue alternative communicative spaces. Some respond by limiting their expressions to closed spheres of communication – a kind of enforced silence. Others respond by pursuing alternative media discourses that challenge the dominant stereotypes of Muslims in Western media and reinforce majority-world cultural views. Enforced Silence In closed spheres of discussion, Australian Muslims can openly share their perceptions about terrorism, the government and media. Speaking openly in public however, is not common practice and results in forced silence for fear of reprisal or being branded a terrorist: “if we jump up and go ‘oh how dare you say this, rah, rah’, he’ll be like ‘oh he’s going to go off, he’ll blow something up’”. One research participant recalled that when his work colleagues were discussing the September 11 attacks he decided not to partake in the conversation because it “might be taken against me”. The participant made this decision despite the fact that his colleagues were expressing the opinion that United States foreign policy was the likely cause for the attacks—an opinion with which he agreed. This suggests some support for the theory that the fear of social isolation may make Australian Muslims especially anxious or fearful of expressing opinions about terrorism in public discussions (Noelle-Neumann). However, it also suggests that the fear of social isolation for Muslims is not solely related to the expression of minority opinion, as theorised in Noelle-Neumann’s Spiral of Silence . Given that many members of the wider community shared the theory that the attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade Centre in 2001 may have been a response to American foreign policy, this may well not be a minority view. Nonetheless, Australian Muslims hesitated to embrace it. Saniotis draws attention to the pressure on Australian Muslims to publicly distance themselves from the terrorist attacks of September 11 and to openly denounce the actions of terrorists. The extent to which Muslims were positioned as a threatening other was contingent on their ability to demonstrate that they too participated in the distal responses to the terrorist attacks—initial pity for the sufferer and eventual marginalisation and rejection of the perceived aggressor. Australian Muslims were obliged to declare their loyalty and commitment to Australia’s ally and, in this way, partake in the nationalistic responses to the threat of terrorism. At the same time however, Australian Muslims were positioned as an imagined enemy and a threat to national identity. Australian Muslims were therefore placed in a paradoxical bind- as Australians they were expected to respond as the victims of fear; as Muslims they were positioned as the objects of fear. Even in discussions where their opinions are congruent with the dominant opinion being expressed, Australian Muslims describe themselves as feeling apprehensive or anxious about expressing their opinions because of how these “might be taken”. Pursuing alternative discourses The overriding message from the research project’s Muslim participants was that the media, as a powerful purveyor of public opinion, had inculcated a perception of Muslims as a risk to Australia and Australians: an ‘enemy within’; the potential ‘home grown terrorist’. The daily experience of visibly-different Australian Muslims, however, is that they are more fearing than fear-inspiring. The Aly and Balnaves fear scale indicates that Australian Muslims have twice as many fear indicators as non-Muslims Australians. Disengagement from Western media and media that is seen to be influenced or controlled by the West is widespread among Australian Muslims who increasingly argue that the media institutions are motivated by an agenda that includes profit and the perpetuation of a negative stereotype of Muslims both in Australia and around the globe, particularly in relation to Middle Eastern affairs. The negative stereotypes of Muslims in the Australian media have inculcated a sense of victimhood which Muslims in Australia have used as the basis for a reconstruction of their identity and the creation of alternative narratives of belonging (Aly). Central to the notion of identity among Australian Muslims is a sense of having their citizenship rights curtailed by virtue of their faith: of being included in a general Western dismissal of Muslims’ rights and experiences. As one interviewee said: If you look at the Channel Al Jazeera for example, it’s a channel but they aren’t making up stories, they are taping videos in Iraqi, Palestine and other Muslim countries, and they just show it to people, that’s all they do. And then George Bush, you know, we hear on the news that George Bush was discussing with Tony Blair that he was thinking to bomb Al Jazeera so why would these people have their right to freedom and we don’t? So that’s why I think the people who are in power, they have the control over the media, and it’s a big political game. Because if it wasn’t then George Bush, he’s the symbol of politics, why would he want to bomb Al Jazeera for example? Amidst leaks and rumours (Timms) that the 2003 US bombing of Al Jazeera was a deliberate attack upon one of the few elements of the public sphere in which some Western-nationality Muslims have confidence, many elements of the mainstream Western media rose to Al Jazeera’s defence. For example, using an appeal to the right of citizens to engage in and consume free speech, the editors of influential US paper The Nation commented that: If the classified memo detailing President Bush’s alleged proposal to bomb the headquarters of Al Jazeera is provided to The Nation, we will publish the relevant sections. Why is it so vital that this information be made available to the American people? Because if a President who claims to be using the US military to liberate countries in order to spread freedom then conspires to destroy media that fail to echo his sentiments, he does not merely disgrace his office and soil the reputation of his country. He attacks a fundamental principle, freedom of the press—particularly a dissenting and disagreeable press—upon which that country was founded. (cited in Scahill) For other Australian Muslims, it is the fact that some media organisations have been listed as banned by the US that gives them their ultimate credibility. This is the case with Al Manar, for example. Feeling that they are denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as equal political citizens, Australian Muslims are pursuing alternative communicative spaces that support and reinforce their own cultural worldviews. The act of engaging with marginalised and alternative communicative spaces constitutes what Clifford terms ‘collective practices of displaced dwelling’. It is through these practices of displaced dwelling that Australian Muslims essentialise their diasporic identity and negotiate new identities based on common perceptions of injustice against Muslims. But you look at Al Jazeera they talk in the same tongue as the Western media in our language. And then you look again at something like Al Manar who talks of their own tongue. They do not use the other media’s ideas. They have been attacked by the Australians, been attacked by the Israelis and they have their own opinion. This statement came from an Australian Muslim of Jordanian background in her late forties. It reflects a growing trend towards engaging with media messages that coincide with and reinforce a sense of injustice. The Al Manar television station to which this participant refers is a Lebanese based station run by the militant Hezbollah movement and accessible to Australians via satellite. Much like Al Jazeera, Al Manar broadcasts images of Iraqi and Palestinian suffering and, in the recent war between Israel and Hezbollah, graphic images of Lebanese casualties of Israeli air strikes. Unlike the Al Jazeera broadcasts, these images are formatted into video clips accompanied by music and lyrics such as “we do not fear America”. Despite political pressure including a decision by the US to list Al Manar as a terrorist organisation in December 2004, just one week after a French ban on the station because its programming had “a militant perspective with anti-Semitic connotations” (Jorisch), Al Manar continued to broadcast videos depicting the US as the “mother of terrorism”. In one particularly graphic sequence, the Statue of Liberty rises from the depths of the sea, wielding a knife in place of the torch and dripping in blood, her face altered to resemble a skull. As she rises out of the sea accompanied by music resembling a funeral march the following words in Arabic are emblazoned across the screen: On the dead bodies of millions of native Americans And through the enslavement of tens of millions Africans The US rose It pried into the affairs of most countries in the world After an extensive list of countries impacted by US foreign policy including China, Japan, Congo, Vietnam, Peru, Laos, Libya and Guatamala, the video comes to a gruelling halt with the words ‘America owes blood to all of humanity’. Another video juxtaposes images of Bush with Hitler with the caption ‘History repeats itself’. One website run by the Coalition against Media Terrorism refers to Al Manar as ‘the beacon of hatred’ and applauds the decisions by the French and US governments to ban the station. Al Manar defended itself against the bans stating on its website that they are attempts “to terrorise and silence thoughts that are not in line with the US and Israeli policies.” The station claims that it continues on its mission “to carry the message of defending our peoples’ rights, holy places and just causes…within internationally agreed professional laws and standards”. The particular brand of propaganda employed by Al Manar is gaining popularity among some Muslims in Australia largely because it affirms their own views and opinions and offers them opportunities to engage in an alternative public space in which Muslims are positioned as the victims and not the aggressors. Renegotiating an ‘Othered’ Identity The negative portrayal of Muslims as ‘other’ in the Australian media and in political discourse has resulted in Australian Muslims constructing alternative identities based on a common perception of injustice. Particularly since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in September 2001 and the ensuing “war on terror”, the ethnic divisions within the Muslim diaspora are becoming less significant as Australian Muslims reconstruct their identity based on a notion of supporting each other in the face of a global alliance against Islam. Religious identity is increasingly becoming the identity of choice for Muslims in Australia. This causes problems, however, since religious identity has no place in the liberal democratic model, which espouses secularism. This is particularly the case where that religion is sometimes constructed as being at odds with the principles and values of liberal democracy; namely tolerance and adherence to the rule of law. This problematic creates a context in which Muslim Australians are not only denied their heterogeneity in the media and political discourse but are dealt with through an understanding of Islam that is constructed on the basis of a cultural and ideological clash between Islam and the West. Religion has become the sole and only characteristic by which Muslims are recognised, denying them political citizenship and access to the public spaces of citizenship. Such ‘essentialising practices’ as eliding considerable diversity into a single descriptor serves to reinforce and consolidate diasporic identity among Muslims in Australia, but does little to promote and assist participatory citizenship or to equip Muslims with the tools necessary to access the public sphere as political citizens of the secular state. In such circumstances, the moderate Muslim may be not so much a ‘preferred’ citizen as one whose rights has been constrained. Acknowledgment This paper is based on the findings of an Australian Research Council Discovery Project, 2005-7, involving 10 focus groups and 60 in-depth interviews. The authors wish to acknowledge the participation and contributions of WA community members. References Akbarzadeh, Shahram, and Bianca Smith. The Representation of Islam and Muslims in the Media (The Age and Herald Sun Newspapers). Melbourne: Monash University, 2005. Aly, Anne, and Mark Balnaves. ”‘They Want Us to Be Afraid’: Developing Metrics of the Fear of Terrorism.” International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 6 (2007): 113-122. Aly, Anne. “Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism in the Australian Popular Media.” Australian Journal of Social Issues 42.1 (2007): 27-40. Clifford, James. Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century. London: Harvard UP, 1997. Haas, Tanni. “The Public Sphere as a Sphere of Publics: Rethinking Habermas’s Theory of the Public Sphere.” Journal of Communication 54.1 (2004): 178- 84. Jorisch, Avi. J. “Al-Manar and the War in Iraq.” Middle East Intelligence Bulletin 5.2 (2003). Noelle-Neumann, Elisabeth. “The Spiral of Silence: A Theory of Public Opinion.” Journal of Communication 24.2 (1974): 43-52. “Online Archives of California”. California Digital Library. n.d. Feb. 2008 http://content.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/kt1199n498/?&query= %22open%20platform%22&brand=oac&hit.rank=1>. Panopoulos, Sophie. Parliamentary debate, 5 Sep. 2005. Feb. 2008 http://www.aph.gov.au.hansard>. Saniotis, Arthur. “Embodying Ambivalence: Muslim Australians as ‘Other’.” Journal of Australian Studies 82 (2004): 49-58. Scahill, Jeremy. “The War on Al-Jazeera (Comment)”. 2005. The Nation. Feb. 2008 http://www.thenation.com/doc/20051219/scahill>. Timms, Dominic. “Al-Jazeera Seeks Answers over Bombing Memo”. 2005. Media Guardian. Feb. 2008 http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2005/nov/23/iraq.iraqandthemedia>. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Aly, Anne, and Lelia Green. "‘Moderate Islam’: Defining the Good Citizen." M/C Journal 10.6/11.1 (2008). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/08-aly-green.php>. APA Style Aly, A., and L. Green. (Apr. 2008) "‘Moderate Islam’: Defining the Good Citizen," M/C Journal, 10(6)/11(1). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/08-aly-green.php>.

Photo ID 129550055 © Katarzyna Bialasiewicz | Dreamstime.com ABSTRACT It has been 26 years since medical aid in dying (“MAiD”) was first legalized in Oregon, and today, about 20 percent of people in the US live in jurisdictions that permit MAiD. The New York State legislature is currently considering a bill that would permit Medical Aid in Dying for terminally ill patients in certain defined circumstances. Those states now benefit from decades of experience, evidence, and reporting from MAiD jurisdictions. This demonstrates that legislation can simultaneously grant terminally ill citizens the civil right to access MAiD while also aggressively protecting all patients from coercion, manipulation, and harm. Given the copious evidence gathered in the past decades, concerns about abuse can no longer be credited as grounds for opposing the passage of legislation that is demonstrably both effective and safe. INTRODUCTION It has been 26 years since medical aid in dying (“MAiD”) was first legalized in Oregon,[1] and today, about 20 percent of people in the US live in jurisdictions that permit MAiD.[2] Other jurisdictions, including New York, are actively considering adopting MAiD laws. Those states now benefit from decades of experience, evidence, and reporting from MAiD jurisdictions, demonstrating that legislation can permit MAiD while also aggressively protecting all patients from coercion, manipulation, and harm. The data should allay the concerns of those who oppose MAiD due to the risk of abuse, coercion, and a hypothetical slippery slope. We, as a society, as clinicians, and as ethicists, must remain vigilant and prevent abuse of MAiD, given the potential risks in the community and in congregate care settings and the risk of patient exploitation by family members. However, given the copious evidence, concerns about abuse do not justify opposition to legislation that is effective and safe. I. New York’s MAiD Bill The New York State legislature is currently considering a bill that would permit MAiD for terminally ill patients in defined circumstances.[3] The bill applies only to adults with a terminal illness or condition that is “incurable and irreversible” and “will, within reasonable medical judgment, produce death within six months.” The bill contains numerous protective requirements: MAiD requests can only be made by the patient themself; requests cannot be made by healthcare agents, surrogates, or anyone else; MAiD requests must be made both orally and in writing to the patient’s attending physician; No person is eligible for MAiD solely because of age or disability; The patient’s attending physician must determine the patient has a qualifying terminal illness, has decision-making capacity, and has made a voluntary, informed decision to request MAiD, in the absence of coercion; These determinations must be confirmed by a second consulting physician in writing; If the attending physician has any concern that the patient may not have decision-making capacity, the patient must be referred to a mental health professional; The attending physician has additional duties to the patient, including ensuring the decision is informed, by discussing the patient’s condition and prognosis; discussing the MAiD process, and treatment alternatives like palliative and hospice care; offering referrals to other appropriate treatment, like palliative and hospice care; and educating the patient that their request can be rescinded at any time and offering them an opportunity to do so; The written request must be witnessed by at least two adults who cannot be (i) related to the patient, (ii) entitled to any portion of the patient’s estate, (iii) employed by a healthcare facility where the patient is receiving treatment or residing, (iv) or the attending physician, consulting physician, or mental health professional determining decision-making capacity; and MAiD medication must be self-administered by the patient, and it must be voluntarily ingested.[4] ARGUMENTS FOR AND AGAINST MAiD II. No Evidence of Abuse of Existing MAiD Laws MAiD supporters and critics alike have a concern about the abuse of MAiD. For this reason, MAiD laws throughout the US incorporate strict eligibility criteria and protective procedural requirements. For instance, patients are eligible only if they are terminally ill with six months or less to live, more than one physician must be involved, and requests must be witnessed (by individuals unrelated to the patient who will not profit from the patient’s estate). MAiD requests have been closely examined in the 27 years since Oregon became the first state to legalize the practice. The results show that these compassionate and protective measures have worked. There have been no documented or substantiated incidents of MAiD abuse since Oregon became the first to implement a MAiD law in 1997.[5] In 2019, the executive director of Disability Rights Oregon (DRO), an organization mandated by federal law to investigate complaints of abuse or neglect of people with disabilities, reported that DRO has never received a complaint that a person with disabilities was coerced into obtaining a prescription for MAiD drugs.[6] A recent study of aggregated data from all nine of the US jurisdictions with publicly available MAiD records from 1998 to 2002 found that 95.6 percent of those who died by MAiD were non-Hispanic white individuals, and 53.1 percent were male.[7] 72.2 percent of these individuals had at least some college education, 74 percent had a cancer diagnosis, and the median age of MAiD death was 74 years old. Only 11 percent of patients were uninsured. MAiD users tend to be white, older, educated, diagnosed with cancer, and insured. Fears that MAiD would overwhelmingly be used by (or on) the poor, the uninsured, the uneducated, or racial and ethnic minorities have not materialized. This data has actually raised a converse concern: that MAiD may, inequitably, not be readily available to less privileged populations or those with a diagnosis other than cancer.[8] Opponents of MAiD may argue that the recent relaxation of certain legal restrictions in some jurisdictions is evidence that the slippery slope to unrestricted euthanasia has begun. This is a mischaracterization. Certain restrictions have been adjusted. For instance, Oregon and Vermont removed the residency restriction that previously excluded non-residents from eligibility.[9] Both states changed the residency requirement due to lawsuits challenging the constitutionality of requiring residence.[10] New Jersey’s law will likely change soon, as well.[11] Initial MAiD laws were drafted to be highly restrictive out of concern about unintended and unforeseeable consequences. Given the gravity of the subject, decades ago, it was better to err on the side of caution, even if that meant excluding from eligibility people who ought to, ethically or legally, be included. Now, with nearly 30 years of experience and data, we can better determine which requirements are necessary to appropriately protect patients, clinicians, and society. Restrictions proven to be unnecessary can now be modified. The core purposes of MAiD laws and the rights and protections they provide are not changing. Rather, a few aspects of the regulations are being adjusted so they are not more restrictive than necessary to achieve their purpose. The ever-growing body of evidence that MAiD laws can adequately protect against abuse and the mythic slippery slope has assured many that their fears will not materialize.[12] For example, NYU bioethicist Arthur Caplan was once a vigorous opponent of MAiD. He worried that MAiD laws would lead to the abuse of the poor, uninsured, and disabled in service of cost-saving or the convenience of others. [13] But, after closely following the empirical evidence from MAiD early-adopters, Oregon and Washington, Caplan changed his mind. In 2018, he argued in favor of the NY MAiD bill before the New York State Assembly Standing Committee on Health.[14] Discussing his review of evidence from these states, Caplan stated: I found no cause for my concerns, none with respect to the slippery slope. There isn’t solid evidence of coercion or duplicity being exercised with respect to people who choose assistance in dying in either state. The police, government officials, families of those who have chosen to use the legislation and the general citizenry find no causes or basis for changing the laws due to abuse or misapplication . . . These slippery slope arguments are just not true . . . there is no current factual support for this slippery slope argument that vulnerable individuals are at risk for being coerced into using the law.[15] Decades of evidence has shown that legislation can simultaneously grant terminally ill patients access to MAiD while also protecting against coercion and abuse. In the face of this evidence, continuing to deny access to MAiD because of hypothetical abuse is unjust and unethical. III. Views of Opponents are Neither Grounded in Fact nor Consistent with Current End-of-Life Practices a. Risk of coercion One common argument heard today from some disability advocates who oppose MAiD goes something like this: Everybody who would qualify for and use MAiD is (or will become) a disabled person, so MAiD only kills people with disabilities. The most common reasons people choose to end their lives via MAiD are disability issues, like loss of autonomy, less ability to engage in activities, and loss of dignity. They argue that, instead of making it easier for disabled people to die, we should make sure that proper services and support exist so that disabled people do not choose to die. Such disability-rights-based arguments tend to assert that to avoid abuse, we must prohibit MAiD altogether. They argue that legalizing MAiD will inexorably lead to abuse and coercion, and disabled people will be pressured into suicide. Some even argue that MAiD laws are the first step to euthanasia, noting the path in other jurisdictions.[16] As an initial matter, people with disabilities deserve adequate support and services, and these are not always available to them. People with disabilities have faced tremendous discrimination in the healthcare system and have been historically prevented from accessing proper care and asserting their autonomy. Ensuring that all can access adequate end-of-life care, like palliative or hospice care, is an ongoing battle that ought not be abandoned. But fighting for adequate end-of-life care and legalizing MAiD are not mutually exclusive. In Oregon, 90 percent of those who access MAiD are enrolled in hospice and states with MAiD laws tend to have better access to palliative care than states without.[17] MAiD proponents seek only to add another choice for the dying, not to diminish any other options. This is reflected in the text of New York’s pending bill, which explicitly requires patient education and referrals to appropriate end-of-life services, like palliative care and hospice.[18] No one has openly argued that society should hold terminally ill patients hostage in order to obtain broader support and funding for palliative care, but that is the practical effect. Beyond the need for supportive services and proper access to the full range of end-of-life care options, the disability argument fails. First, the assertion that MAiD laws will be abused and disabled people will be coerced into suicide is not grounded in fact. To the contrary, real-life evidence gathered in over two decades of legal MAiD has shown no documented or substantiated incidents of abuse, as discussed above.[19] The slippery slope has simply not materialized. Advocates for people with disabilities who are opposed to MAiD have not clearly articulated exactly who is vulnerable to being coerced into obtaining a MAiD prescription or even how such coercion could logistically occur. Most people with disabilities are not vulnerable to MAiD abuse, as they do not have a qualifying terminal illness or lack decisional capacity due to a developmental disability and are therefore not eligible. MAiD opponents appear to be claiming that all those who qualify for MAiD are vulnerable and seek protection from MAiD laws. But this would include many of the people that, over the past decades, have aggressively and publicly advocated for access to MAiD – terminally ill people, like Brittany Maynard,[20] many of whom lobbied hard for the passage of MAiD laws while knowing that they themselves would die before the laws passed. Opponents of MAiD from a segment of the disability rights community are telling individuals who they claim, without permission, as members of the MAiD opposition community, that they must all endure unimaginable suffering without a MAiD option because they must be protected from theoretical coercive harm. People with disabilities should be allowed to make their own choices. No one, not even the most well-meaning advocate, should be allowed to obstruct a patient’s end-of-life choices – those choices belong to the patient alone. b. Argument That the Demand for MAID is a Result of Poor Disability Services Second, the argument that terminally ill patients would decline MAiD if only they had better disability services or support is disingenuous to the extent that it ignores the fact that people choosing MAiD are actively dying. No provision of supportive services can change this. And it is perfectly reasonable for someone who knows that they will die in less than six months to want some control over the manner of their death and to avoid the deterioration, indignity, and suffering that could come with it. The argument construes a MAiD death as a choice to die rather than live with a disability. But individuals choosing MAiD are not choosing death – death is coming and coming quickly. MAiD simply offers some control over this reality, giving patients an option that is safe, certain, and painless. Certainly, supportive hospice services should be available for these individuals. But there is no evidence demonstrating that any amount of service would eliminate the need and desire for the MAiD option. c. Inconsistent Positions on MAID and Other Ending Life Care Options: Palliative Sedation and VSED MAiD opponents who are concerned about abuse and coercion often hold inconsistent views on other currently available ending life care options.[21] For example, some argue that palliative sedation[22] renders MAiD unnecessary and does not present the same ethical problems.[23] However, whereas MAiD can only be chosen by the patient themself (and the patient must have decision-making capacity), the same is not true for palliative sedation. Palliative sedation, a valuable modality of end-of-life care, does not have to be initiated by the patient. If the patient is deemed not to have decision-making capacity to make that decision, their healthcare proxy can decide to initiate the process and continue it until the patient dies. Individuals other than patients often choose to begin palliative sedation and continue it to its inevitable conclusion. And because palliative sedation does not require enabling legislation, none of the protective safeguards incorporated in MAiD legislation are available to protect those who receive palliative sedation. Some may try to differentiate between palliative sedation and MAiD by saying that once started, palliative sedation can always be discontinued – it need not end in the patient’s death. This is true, but the very process of palliative sedation will inevitably make the patient insensible or unconscious or otherwise unable to exercise a choice to stop sedation. With MAiD, the patient must self-administer and ingest the medication on their own, with death following quickly. The patient can choose to forgo MAID up until the very moment of self-administration. Considering MAiD’s procedural safeguards, including that only the patient may choose and administer MAiD, MAiD patients are offered more protection from potential abuse than patients who receive palliative sedation. While some have vocally opposed MAiD for decades, there has not been similar opposition to the option of voluntarily stopping eating and drinking (VSED). With VSED, adults with decision-making capacity make a voluntary decision to refuse nutrition and hydration to die more quickly. People choosing VSED are, essentially, making the same choice that people choosing MAiD do. But VSED is a less predictable process that takes much longer to complete. Unfortunately, the process also carries a risk of unpleasant side-effects, though proper care can help mitigate them. Additionally, the practice of VSED is not constrained by statutorily defined protective measures, as is the case with MAiD – one does not even need to have a terminal illness to choose VSED.[24] It is logically inconsistent for those who oppose MAiD because of the perceived potential of abuse to hold different views about VSED.[25] If malevolent actors can unethically pressure or coerce patients into MAiD, they can also coerce them to stop eating and drinking. As with palliative sedation, it could be argued that an important difference is that VSED can be stopped, unlike MAiD. This argument fails clinically and ethically. As with palliative sedation, the VSED process eventually results in the patient losing consciousness and decision-making capacity. The patient generally becomes unarousable for a period that could last for days or even weeks. For this reason, it is crucial for VSED patients to express their choice in writing (or preferably in video recording)[26] to ensure that they will not be given nutrition or hydration when they are no longer able to enforce their refusal (or if they begin asking for nutrition or hydration). Therefore, there is a period in which the patient cannot decide to end the process, just as with palliative sedation. To the extent that someone is so concerned with potential abuse of MAiD that they seek to ban it but have not expressed similar concerns with VSED, these positions are inconsistent. At a NYS Bar Association-sponsored conference on MAiD in 2019, David Hoffman asked a MAiD opponent whether, “as someone who is looking out for the interests of a segment of the disability population,” she supports palliative sedation and VSED.”[27] Kathryn Carroll, who represented the Center for Disability Rights (“CDR”), confirmed that CDR did not oppose palliative sedation and did not offer a position on VSED. She noted the subtle difference in intention: I don’t believe the Center for Disability Rights has taken issue with palliative sedation. And my understanding is that there is a key difference between palliative sedation and assisted suicide, particularly in that palliative sedation, the point is not to bring about the death of the person, but to relieve the pain that they are experiencing. And so the death is more of a side effect rather than the intended outcome.[28] During the questioning, she provided no explanation as to why the potential for abuse would be different among palliative sedation, VSED, and MAiD.[29] The other MAiD opponent on the panel, Dennis Vacco, of Vacco v. Quill[30] fame, interjected but could not explain any ethically significant difference between VSED and MAiD. Instead, he focused solely on palliative sedation, stating that the relevant difference is that palliative sedation can be stopped: . . . treating the pain including what you referred to as terminal sedation, is not moral and legally and ethnically the same as physician-assisted suicide . . . The fact of the matter is – the difference is you can terminate that treatment, and it’s the permanent aspect of physician-assisted suicide that goes back to what I said 20 minutes ago. You can’t put the bright line anyplace else other than where it is.[31] But, as discussed above, that difference is of little import, given that palliative sedation results in patients without the ability or capacity to make the choice to stop treatment. Vacco then reverted to his concerns about the potential for coercion and the elusive slippery slope, referencing his primary argument that the only way to ensure there is no abuse of a MAiD law is not to have one at all: The bright line that is created by the law in the state of New York, which makes physician-assisted suicide a manslaughter in the second-degree, or assisting suicide by anybody, manslaughter in the second degree . . . is unfortunately the only place that line can be. That line should not move further toward accommodation. And we see here in the context of . . . all of the so-called protections in the statute. With every protection that is not prohibition, with every protection, you raise the possibility of abuse. You raise the possibility with every protection.[32] Neither Vacco nor Carroll addressed the fact that many common practices today can be the result of coerced decisions. These practices have none of the safeguards contained in MAiD legislation. As another panelist, David Leven, stated: consider that people who want to have life-sustaining treatment withdrawn, whether it’s a ventilator or feeding tube, they can also be coerced by family members. That can happen even more often, of course, because that process takes place more and more often, and there are none of the safeguards that we’re talking about here . . . there are risks involved in any process which might result in a hastened death. But there seems to be very little risk involved with medical aid in dying based on the experience in 40 years and the nine states which now permit medical aid in dying.[33] There is an inescapable inconsistency within the disability argument: one cannot logically be so concerned about the abuse of legalized access to MAiD to justify opposing all MAiD legislation while simultaneously supporting options like palliative sedation or VSED as abuse-free alternatives. d. Argument Against Speaking for a Community with Diverse Views Finally, while some disability advocates opposing MAiD will claim terminally ill patients as part of their community, they have no right or authorization to speak for the extremely heterogeneous group of terminally ill patients or the disability community[34] as a whole. The disability community is not homogenous; while some members oppose MAiD, others support it.[35] Recent polling indicates that MAiD may have broad support across the disability community.[36] e. MAiD Opponents Hold the Rights of the Terminally Ill Subordinate to Their Personal Morality and Unsubstantiated Theoretical Concerns The argument that does not get much attention, the one that is the simplest and perhaps even the most compelling, is that all killing is wrong, and the government ought not to be in the business of enabling it. That is certainly a compelling religious and moral argument against individuals engaging in any form of acts that result in ending a human life. But such an ethical or theological position does not dictate that individuals who hold different views on personal morality should be precluded by the state from accessing the most safe, certain, and painless means of addressing an invariably terminal illness. Arguments like the one described above by Vacco (that the only way to completely avoid potential MAiD abuse is to prohibit MAiD) are essentially claiming that the safest thing to do is to subordinate the suffering of the terminally ill to avoid the more subtle task of balancing the interests of two different groups of New York state citizens. But surely, that is the role of the legislature every day. And we should expect no less from the legislature on this issue. The best way to ensure no one dies in car accidents is to prohibit driving. But instead of doing so, we implement safety regulations (like speed limits) to balance the right to travel with the right of everyone else not to be killed in the process. Evidence demonstrates that MAiD legislation can also strike a balance between the rights of the terminally ill and the need to prevent harm. It is not justifiable to support a blanket prohibition of MAiD. CONCLUSION Opponents of MAiD have had decades to cite problematic case studies or formulate a compelling moral argument against it that is grounded in data rather than an assertion of their personal morality. Plainly, no one on either side of the MAiD legislative discussion wants to see anyone subjected to involuntary euthanasia or coerced into MAiD as a better alternative to palliative care when such a plan of care is a viable alternative to “ending life care.” However, enough time has passed, and the risk of coercion has been given sufficient study and debate that we can now conclude, as a society, that the rights of the terminally ill and the rights of persons committed to living their best and longest life with a disability are wholly compatible. It is time for the legislature to strike the appropriate balance and give the terminally ill a well-regulated, responsible pathway to obtaining medication that can relieve their suffering in a manner that is safe, certain, and painless. - [1] Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act, Oregon Health Authority, https://www.oregon.gov/oha/ph/providerpartnerresources/evaluationresearch/deathwithdignityact/pages/index.aspx [2] Elissa Kozlov et al., Aggregating 23 Years of Data on Medical Aid in Dying in the United States, 70 Journal of the American Geriatrics Society 3040 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1111/jgs.17925 [3] Medical Aid in Dying Act, A.995-A, N.Y. St. Assemb. (2023), available at https://legislation.nysenate.gov/pdf/bills/2023/A995A; see also, Medical Aid in Dying Act, S.2445-A, N.Y. St. Senate (2023), available at https://legislation.nysenate.gov/pdf/bills/2023/S2445A. [4] Id. [5] Ronald A. Lindsay, Oregon’s Experience: Evaluating the Record, 9 The American Journal of Bioethics 19 (2009), https://doi.org/10.1080/15265160802654137; Christopher A. Riddle, Medical Aid in Dying: The Case of Disability, in New Directions in the Ethics of Assisted Suicide and Euthanasia 234 (Michael Cholbi & Jukka Varelius eds., 2nd ed. 2023), https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-25315-7; Health Law Section: Duties, Rights & the Law at the End of Life (2019), NY ST. BAR ASSOC. (Nov. 8, 2019), https://nysba.org/products/health-law-section-duties-rights-the-law-at-the-end-of-life-2019/; Medical Aid in Dying: Hearing on A.2383-A Before the New York State Assembly Standing Committee on Health (2018) (testimony of Arthur Caplan), transcript available at https://nystateassembly.granicus.com/DocumentViewer.php?file=nystateassembly_bc5bd4afc9fd8b9021781bc9e35e15ae.pdf&view=1; Fact: Medical Aid in Dying Laws Work to Protect Patients. (n.d.). Compassion & Choices. Retrieved September 5, 2023, from https://compassionandchoices.org/resource/fact-medical-aid-in-dying-laws-work-to-protect-patients; Frequently Asked Questions. (2021, December 7). Death With Dignity. https://deathwithdignity.org/resources/faqs/. [6] Bob Joondeph, Letter from Disability Rights Oregon (DRO), Compassion & Choices (Feb. 14, 2019), https://www.compassionandchoices.org/docs/default-source/default-document-library/disability-rights-oregon-dwd-letter-2-14-19.pdf. [7] Elissa Kozlov et al., Aggregating 23 Years of Data on Medical Aid in Dying in the United States, 70 Journal of the American Geriatrics Society 3040 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1111/jgs.17925 [8] Id. [9] Medical Aid in Dying: Act 39: Patient Choice and Control at the End of Life, Vermont Ethics Network, https://vtethicsnetwork.org/palliative-and-end-of-life-care/medical-aid-in-dying-act-39 (last visited Sept. 21, 2023). [10] Gideonse v. Brown, No. 3:21-cv-01568-AC (D. Or.); Bluestein v. Scott, No. 2:22-cv-00160 (D. Vt.). [11] Govatos v. Murphy, No. 2:23-cv-12601(D.N.J.). [12] Medical associations, historically opponents of MAiD, have begun adopting neutral positions, reflecting changing attitudes of the medical community. E.g., California Medical Association removes opposition to physician aid in dying bill, California Medical Association (May 20, 2015), https://www.cmadocs.org/newsroom/news/view/ArticleId/27210/California-Medical-Association-removes-opposition-to-physician-aid-in-dying-bill; Board directs CMS to develop and distribute “End-of-Life Act” education to members, Colorado Medical Society (November 22, 2016), https://www.cms.org/articles/board-directs-cms-to-develop-and-distribute-end-of-life-act-education-to-me; Vermont Medical Society Policy on End-of-life-Care, Vermont Medical Society (2017), https://vtmd.org/client_media/files/vms_resolutions/2017End-of-Life-Care.pdf (last accessed Sept. 21, 2023); but see Physician-Assisted Suicide, AMA Code of Ethics, https://code-medical-ethics.ama-assn.org/ethics-opinions/physician-assisted-suicide. (5.7 provides opinion opposing MAiD; opinion 1.1.7 provides opinion on conscientious objection.); The American Medical Association could vote to change its stance on medical aid in dying, Death with Dignity (Nov. 10, 2023), https://deathwithdignity.org/news/2023/11/ama-could-vote-to-change-stance-on-maid/ (Update notes that the AMA did not change its stance from opposed to neutral at its November 2023 interim meeting in Baltimore, but referred the resolutions for further study). [13] Medical Aid in Dying: Hearing on A.2383-A Before the New York State Assembly Standing Committee on Health (2018) (testimony of Arthur Caplan), transcript available at https://nystateassembly.granicus.com/DocumentViewer.php?file=nystateassembly_bc5bd4afc9fd8b9021781bc9e35e15ae.pdf&view=1. [14] Id. [15] Id. [16] Id. (noting the laws in Netherlands, Belgium and Canada.); see also National Council on Disability, The danger of assisted suicide laws: Part of the Bioethics and Disability series (2019). https://ncd.gov/sites/default/files/NCD_Assisted_Suicide_Report_508.pdf. [17] Sean Riley & Ben Sarbey, The unexamined benefits of the expansive legalization of medical assistance-in-dying, 19 J. Bioethical Inquiry 4, 663 (2022) (citing Oregon Health Authority Center for Health Statistics, Oregon Death with Dignity Act: 2018 Data Summary (2019), https://www.oregon.gov/oha/PH/PROVIDERPARTNERRESOURCES/EVALUATIONRESEARCH/DEATHWITHDIGNITYACT/Documents/year21.pdf and R. Sean Morrison, et al., America’s care of serious illness: A state-by-state report card on access to palliative care in our nation’s hospitals, 14 J. Palliat. Med. 10, 1094–1096 (2011)). [18] Medical Aid in Dying Act, A.995-A, N.Y. St. Assembly. (2023), available at https://legislation.nysenate.gov/pdf/bills/2023/A995A [19] See also, Ben Colburn, Disability‐based Arguments against Assisted Dying Laws, 36 Bioethics 680 (2022) (cataloging research in multiple countries and concluding that “there is no evidence that assisted dying laws have a disproportionate effect on people with disabilities”). https://doi.org/10.1111/bioe.13036 [20] Eyder Peralta, As Planned, Right-To-Die Advocate Brittany Maynard Ends Her Life, NPR (Apr. 3, 2014), https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2014/11/03/361094919/as-planned-right-to-die-advocate-brittany-maynard-ends-her-life (Activist Brittany Maynard moved to Oregon after she was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor, because her home state did not permit MAiD at the time). [21] Ending life care is defined as the final stage of the end-of-life care continuum, where the patient chooses to end their life as a means to end their suffering or unacceptable quality of life. [22] Palliative sedation is defined as “the use of medications to induce decreased or absent awareness in order to relieve otherwise intractable suffering at the end of life,” and it carries a risk of hastening death. Molly L. Olsen, Keith M. Swetz & Paul S. Mueller, Ethical Decision Making With End-of-Life Care: Palliative Sedation and Withholding or Withdrawing Life-Sustaining Treatments, 85 Mayo Clin Proc 949 (2010). https://doi.org/10.4065/mcp.2010.0201 [23] E.g. Disability Rights Toolkit for Advocacy Against Legalization of Assisted Suicide, Not Dead Yet, https://notdeadyet.org/disability-rights-toolkit-for-advocacy-against-legalization-of-assisted-suicide (last visited Dec. 8, 2023) (describing palliative sedation as “a legal solution to any remaining painful and uncomfortable deaths; one that does not raise the very serious hazards of legalizing assisted suicide”); Testimony of CDR’s Kathryn Carroll, Esq. Opposing NY Assisted Suicide Bill A2383A, Not Dead Yet (Apr. 23, 2018), https://notdeadyet.org/testimony-of-cdrs-kathryn-carroll-esq-opposing-ny-assisted-suicide-bill-a2383a. [24] Voluntarily Stopping Eating and Drinking: A Compassionate, Widely-Available Option for Hastening Death, (Timothy E. Quill et al. eds., 2021). https://doi.org/10.1093/med/9780190080730.001.0001 [25] This is not to say that MAiD and VSED are ethically identical. Different writers have articulated various reasons why MAiD and VSED are meaningfully different and meaningfully similar. Here we distinguish the potential for abuse, as this is the argument that persists among MAiD opponents, For a broader discussion on the ethics of VSED and how it compares to MAiD, see Voluntarily Stopping Eating and Drinking: A Compassionate, Widely-Available Option for Hastening Death, (Timothy E. Quill et al. eds., 2021). https://doi.org/10.1093/med/9780190080730.001.0001 [26] Id.; see also David N. Hoffman and Judy Schwarz, Can Patients Choose to Stop Eating–Even If They Have Dementia–and Can Health Care Facilities Get Paid for Taking Care of Them? Ethics and Reimbursement at the End of Life (Am. Health L. Ass’n Conf. on Long Term Care and the Law 2020). [27] Health Law Section: Duties, Rights & the Law at the End of Life (2019), NY St. Bar Assoc. (Nov. 8, 2019), https://nysba.org/products/health-law-section-duties-rights-the-law-at-the-end-of-life-2019/. [28] Id. [29] CDR still does not appear to have articulated a position on VSED. CDR is a major and vocal opponent of MAiD legislation in NY with considerable resources (they state their projected 2010 budget was approximately $29,000,000). About Us, Center for Disability Rights, https://cdrnys.org/about/. [30] Vacco v. Quill, 521 U.S. 793 (1997) (holding that there is no equal protection violation when N.Y. law criminalized assisted-suicide but permitted removal of life-support systems). [31] Health Law Section: Duties, Rights & the Law at the End of Life (2019), supra note 5. [32] Id. [33] Id. [34] Ben Colburn, Disability‐based Arguments against Assisted Dying Laws, 36 Bioethics 680 (2022) (providing evidence that “that people with disabilities, and disability rights organizations, have diverse views on the question of whether assisted dying should be legal”). https://doi.org/10.1111/bioe.13036 [35] Us for Autonomy, https://www.usforautonomy.org (last visited Sep 10, 2023); see also, Kathryn L. Tucker, Building Bridges Between the Civil Rights Movements of People with Disabilities and Those with Terminal Illness, 78 U. of Pitt. L. Rev. 329 (2017) (collecting and describing amici participation by disability advocates supporting end-of-life liberty). https://doi.org/10.5195/lawreview.2017.473 [36] E.g., USA/National Public Opinion Survey, Susquehanna Polling & Research, Inc. (Feb. 2023),https://d31hzlhk6di2h5.cloudfront.net/20230307/2e/9e/21/14/d37db7887f3f349202ae6f31/Raben_Crosstabulation_Report_2023.FINAL%20(1).pdf ).

When we think of United Nations (UN) peacekeepers, the first image that is conjured in our mind is of an individual sporting a blue helmet or a blue beret (fig. 1). While simple and uncomplicated, these blue accessories represent an expression and an embodiment resembling that of a warrior, sent to bring peace to conflict-torn communities. UN peacekeeping first conceptually emerged in 1948 in the wake of the Arab-Israeli war that ensued following the United Kingdom’s relinquishing of its mandate over Palestine, and the proclamation of the State of Israel. “Forged in the crucible of practical diplomacy” (Rubinstein 16), unarmed military observers were deployed to Palestine to monitor the hostilities and mediate armistice agreements between Israel and its Arab neighbours. This operation, the United Nations Truce Supervision Organization (UNTSO), significantly exemplified the diplomatic and observational capabilities of military men, in line with the UN Charter’s objectives of international peace and security, setting henceforth a basic archetype for international peacekeeping. It was only in 1956, however, that peacekeeping formally emerged when armed UN forces deployed to Egypt to supervise the withdrawal of forces occupying the Suez Canal (informally known as the ‘Second Arab-Israeli’ war). Here, the formation of UN peacekeeping represented an international pacifying mechanism comprised of multiple third-party intermediaries whereby peaceful resolution would be achieved by transcending realist instincts of violence for political attainment in favour of applying a less-destructive liberal model of persuasion, compromise, and perseverance (Howard). ‘Blue helmet’ peacekeeping operations continue to be regarded by the UN as an integral subsidiary instrument of its organisation. At present, there are 12 active peacekeeping operations led by the UN Department of Peacekeeping across the world (United Nations Peacekeeping). Fig. 1: United Nations Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS) sporting blue berets (https://www.gov.uk/government/news/uk-troops-awarded-un-medals-for-south-sudan-peacekeeping-mission) But where did the blue helmets and berets originate from? Rubinstein details a surprisingly mundane account of the origins of the political accessory that is now a widely recognised symbol for UN peacekeepers’ uniforms. Peacekeepers’ uniforms initially emerged from the ad hoc need to distinguish UN troops from those of the armed forces in a distinctive dress during the 1947 UNTSO mission by any means and material readily available, such as armbands and helmets (Henry). The era of early peacekeeping operations also saw ‘observers’ carry UN flags and paint their vehicle white with ‘UN’ written in large black letters in order to distinguish themselves. The blue helmets specifically came to be adorned during the first peacekeeping operation in 1956 during the Suez crisis. At this time, Canada supplied a large number of non-combatant troops whose uniform was the same as the belligerent British forces, party to the conflict. An effort to thus distinguish the peacekeepers was made by spray-painting surplus World War II American plastic helmet-liners, which were available in quantity in Europe, blue (Urquhart; Rubenstein). The two official colours of the UN are ‘light blue’ and ‘white’. The unique light “UN” blue colour, in particular, was approved as the background for the UN flag in the 1947 General Assembly Resolution 167(II), alongside a white emblem depicting a map of the world surrounded by two olive branches. While the UN’s use of the colour was chosen as a “practical effect of identifying the Organization in areas of trouble and conflict, to any and all parties concerned”, the colour blue was also specifically chosen at this time as “an integral part of the visual identity of the organisation” representing “peace in opposition to red, for war” (United Nations). Blue is seen to be placed in antithesis to the colour red across several fields including popular culture, and even within politics, as a way to typically indicate conflict between two warring groups. Within popular culture, for example, many films in the science fiction, fantasy, or horror genres, use a clearly demarcated, dichotomous ‘red vs. blue’ colour scheme in their posters (fig. 2). This is also commonly seen in political campaign posters, for example during the 2021 US presidential election (fig. 3). Fig. 2: Blue and red colour schemes in film posters (left to right: Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015), Captain Marvel (2019), and The Dead Don’t Die (2019)) Fig. 3: Biden (Democratic party) vs. Trump (Republican party) US presidential election (https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-10-15/us-election-political-parties-explained-democrats-vs-republicans/12708296) This dichotomy can be traced back to the high Middle Ages between the fourteenth and seventeenth century where the colour blue became a colour associated with “moral implications”, rivalling both the colours black and red which were extremely popular in clothing during the eras of the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance (Pastoureau 85). This ‘moral metamorphosis’ in European society was largely influenced by the views of Christian Protestant reformers concerning the social, religious, and artistic use of the colour blue (Pastoureau). A shift in the use of blue and its symbolic connotations may also be seen, for example, in early Christian art and iconography, specifically those deriving from depictions of the Virgin Mary; according to Pastoureau (50), this provides the “clearest illustration of the social, religious, and artistic consequences of blue's new status”. Up until the eighteenth century, the colour blue, specifically ‘sky blue’ or light blue tones resemblant of the “UN” shade of blue, had minimal symbolic or aesthetic value, particularly in European culture and certainly amongst nobility and the upper levels of society. Historically, light blue was typically associated with peasants’ clothing. This was due to the fact that peasants would often dye their clothes using the pigment of the woad herb; however, the woad would poorly penetrate cloth fibres and inevitably fade under the effects of sunlight and soap, thereby resulting in a ‘bland’ colour (Pastoureau). Although the blue hues worn by the nobility and wealthy were typically denser and more solid, a “new fashion” for light blue tones gradually took hold at the courts of the wealthy and the bourgeoisie, inevitably becoming deeply anchored in Western European counties (Pastoureau). Here, the reorganisation of the colour hierarchy and reformulation of blue certainly resembles Pastoureau’s (10) assertion that “any history of colour is, above all, a social history”. Within the humanities, colour represents a social phenomenon and construction. Colour thus provides insights into the ways society assigns meaning to it, “constructs its codes and values, establishes its uses, and determines whether it is acceptable or not” (Pastoureau, 10). In this way, although colour is a naturally occurring phenomenon, it is also a complex cultural construct. That the UN and its subsidiary bodies, including the Department of Peacekeeping, deliberately assigned light blue as its official organisational colour therefore usefully illustrates a significant social process of meaning-making and cultural sociology. The historical transition of light blue’s association from one of poverty in and around the eighteenth century to one of wealth in the nineteenth century may perhaps also be indicative of the next transitional era for light blue in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, representative of the amalgamation or unity between the two classes. Representing the ambitions not only of the organisation, but rather of the 193 member-states, of attaining worldwide peace, light blue may be seen as a colour of peace, as well as one of the people, for the people. This may be traced back, according to Pastoureau, as early as the Middle Ages where the colour blue was seen a colour of ‘peace’. Colours, however, do not solely determine social and cultural relevance in a given historical event. Rather, fabrics and clothing too offer “the richest and most diverse source of artifacts” in understanding history and culture. Artifacts such as UN peacekeepers’ blue berets and helmets necessarily incorporate economic, social, ideological, aesthetic, and symbolic aspects of both colour and material into the one complete uniform (Pastoureau). While the ‘UN blue’ is associated with peace, the beret, on the other hand, has been described as “an ally in the battlefield” (Kliest). The history of the beret is largely rooted in the armed forces – institutions typically associated with conflict and violence – and it continues to be a vital aspect of military uniforms worn by personnel from countries all around the globe. Given that the large majority of UN peacekeeping forces are made up of military personnel, peacekeeping, as both an action and an institution, thus adds a layer of complexity when discussing artifact symbolism. Here, a peacekeeper’s uniform uniquely represents the embodiment of an amalgamation of two traditionally juxtaposing concepts: peace, nurture, and diplomacy (often associated with ‘feminine’ qualities) versus conflict, strength, and discipline (often associated with ‘masculine’ qualities). A peacekeeper’s uniform thus represents the UN’s institutionalisation of “soldiers for peace” (Howard) who are, as former UN Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjold proclaimed, “the front line of a moral force” (BBC cited in Howard). Aside from its association with the armed forces, the beret has also been used as a fashion symbol by political revolutionaries, such as members of the ‘Black Panther Party’ (BPP) founded in the 1960s during the US Civil Rights Movement, as well as Che Guevara, prominent Leftist figure in the Cuban Revolution (see fig. 4). For, Rosabelle Forzy, CEO of beret and headwear fashion manufacturing company ‘Laulhère’, the beret is “emblematic of non-conformism … worn by people who create, commit, militate, and resist” (Kliest). Fig. 4: Berets worn by political revolutionaries (Left to right: Black Panthers Party (BPP) protesting outside of a New York courthouse (https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2988897/Black-Panther-double-cop-killer-sues-freedom-plays-FLUTE-Murderer-demands-parole-changed-fury-victim-s-widow.html), and portrait of Che Guevara) In a way, the UN’s ‘blue beret’ too bears a ‘non-conformist’ visage as its peacekeepers neither fit categorisations as ‘revolutionaries’ nor as traditional ‘soldiers’. Peacekeepers personify a cultural phenomenon that operates in a complex environment (Rubinstein). While peacekeepers retain their national military (usually camouflage) uniforms during missions, the UN headwear is a symbol of non-conformity in response to sociological preconceptions regarding military culture. In the case of peacekeeping, the implementation and longevity of peacekeepers’ uniforms has occurred through a process of what Rubinstein (50) refers to as ‘cultural’ or ‘symbolic inversion’ wherein traditional notions of military rituals and symbolism have been appropriated or ‘inverted’ and given a new meaning by the UN. In other words, the UN promotes the image of soldiers acting without the use of force in service of peace in order to encode an image of a “world transformed” through the contribution of peacekeeping toward the “elaboration of an image of an international community acting in a neutral, consensual manner” (Rubinstein, 50). Cultural inversion therefore creates a socio-political space wherein normative representations are reconfigured and conditioned as acceptable. Rubinstein argues, however, that the UN’s need to integrate individuals with such diverse backgrounds and perceptions into a collective peacekeeper identity can be problematic. Rubinstein (72) adds that the blue beret is the “most obvious evidence” of an ordinary symbol investing ‘legitimacy’ in peacekeeping through ritual repetition which still holds its cultural relevance to the present day. Arguably, institutional uniforms are symbols which profoundly shape human experience, validating contextual action according to the symbol’s meanings relevant to those wearing it. In this way, uniform symbolism not only allows us to make sense of our daily experiences, but allows us to construct and understand our identities and our interactions with others who are also part of the symbolic culture we are situated in. Consider, for example, a police officer. A police officer’s uniform not only grants them membership to the policing institution but also necessarily grants them certain powers, privileges, and jurisdictions within society which thereby impact on the way they see the world and interact with it. Necessarily, the social and cultural identity one acquires from wearing a specific uniform only effectively functions by “investing differences”, however large or small, into these symbols that “distinguish us from others” (Rubinstein, 74). For example, a policeman’s badge is a signifier that they are, in fact, part of an exclusive group that the majority of the citizenry are not. To this extent, the use of uniforms is not without its controversies or without the capacity to be misused as a tool of discrimination in a ‘them’ versus ‘us’ scenario. Referring to case regarding the beret, for example, in 2000 then US Army Chief of Staff, General Eric Shineski, announced that the black beret – traditionally worn exclusively by specialised US Army units such as ‘Rangers’ – would become a standardised part of the US Army uniform for all soldiers and would denote a “symbol of unity”. General Shineski’s decision for the new headgear symbolised “the half-million-strong army’s transition to a lighter, more agile force that can respond more rapidly to distant trouble spots” (Borger). This was, however, met with angry backlash particularly from the Rangers who stated that they “were being robbed of a badge of pride” as “the beret is a symbol of excellence … that is not to be worn by everybody” (Borger). Responses to the proposition pointed to the problem of ‘low morale’ that the military faced, which could not be fixed just by “changing hats” (Borger). In this case, the beret was identified and isolated as a tool for coordinating perceptions (Rubinstein, 78). Here, the use of uniforms is as much about being external identifiers and designating a group from another as it is about sustaining a group by means of perpetuating what Rubinstein conceptualises as ‘self-legitimation’. This occurs in order to ensure the survival of a group and is similarly seen as occurring within UN peacekeeping (Joseph & Alex). Within peacekeeping the blue beret is an effective symbol used to perpetuate self-legitimacy across various levels of the UN which construct systems, or a ‘community’, of reinforcement largely rooted on organisational models of virtue and diplomacy. In the broadest sense, the UN promotes “a unique responsibility to set a global standard” in service to creating a unified and pacific world order (Guterres). As an integral instrument of international action, peacekeeping is, by extension, necessarily conditioned and supported by this cultural model whereby the actions of individual peacekeepers are strategically linked to the symbolic capital at the broadest levels of the organisation to manage the organisation’s power and legitimacy. The image of the peacekeeper, however, is fraught with problems and, as such, UN peacekeepers’ uniforms represent discrepancies and contradictions in the UN’s mission and organisational culture, particularly with relation to the UN’s symbolic construction of community and cooperation amongst peacekeepers. Given that peacekeeping troops are made up of individuals from different ethnic, cultural, and professional backgrounds, conditions for cultural interaction become challenging, if not problematic, and may necessarily lead to cross-cultural misunderstandings, miscommunication, and conflict. This applies to the context of peacekeeper deployment to host nations amongst local communities with whom they are also culturally unfamiliar (Rubinstein, "Intervention"). According to Rubinstein ("Intervention", 528), such operations may “create the conditions under which criminal activities or the institution of neo-colonial relationships can emerge”. Moncrief adds to this by also suggesting that a breakdown in conduct and discipline during missions may also contribute to peacekeepers engaging in violence during missions. Consequently, multiple cases of misdemeanour by UN peacekeepers have been reported across the years including peacekeeper involvement in bribery, weapons trading, and gold smuggling (Escobales). One of the most notorious acts of misconduct and violence that continues to be reported in the present day, however, is of peacekeepers perpetrating sexual exploitation and abuse against host women and children. Between 2004 and 2016, for example, “the UN received almost 2,000 allegations of sexual exploitation and abuse” (Essa). According to former chief of operations at the UN’s Emergency Co-ordination Centre, Andrew Macleod, this figure may be, however, much more disturbing, estimating in general that approximately “60,000 rapes had been carried out by UN staff in the past decade” (Zeffman). An article in the Guardian reported that a 12-year-old girl had been hiding in a bathroom during a house search in a Muslim enclave of the capital, Bangui [in the Central African Republic] … . A man allegedly wearing the blue helmet and vest of the UN peacekeeping forces took her outside and raped her behind a truck. (Smith & Lewis) In the article, the assailant’s uniform (“the blue helmet and vest”) is not only described as literal imagery to contextualise the grave crime that was committed against the child. In evoking the image of the blue helmet and vest, the author highlights the uniform as a symbolic tool of power which was misused to perpetuate harm against the vulnerable civilian ‘other’. In this scenario, like many others, rather than representing peace and hope, the blue helmet (or beret) instead illustrates the contradictions of the UN peacekeeper’s uniform. Here, the uniform has consequently come to be associated as a symbol of violence, fear, and most significantly, betrayal, for the victim(s) of the abuse, as well as for much of the victim’s community. This discrepancy was also highlighted in a speech presented by former Ambassador of the UK Mission to the UN, Matthew Rycroft, who stated that “when a girl looks up to a blue helmet, she should do so not in fear, but in hope”. For many peacekeepers perpetrating sexual exploitation and abuse, particularly transactional sex, however, they “do not see themselves as abusing women”. This is largely to do with the power and privileges peacekeepers are afforded, such as ‘immunity’ – that is, a peacekeeper is granted immunity from trial or prosecution for criminal misconduct by the host nation’s judicial system. Over the years, scholarly research regarding peacekeepers’ immunity has highlighted a plethora of organisational problems within the UN, including lack of perpetrator accountability, and internal investigation or follow-up. More so, it has undoubtedly “contributed to a culture of individuals committing sexual violence knowing that they will get away with it” (Freedman). When a peacekeeper wears their uniform, they are thus imbued with the power and charged with the responsibility to properly embody and represent the values of the UN; “if [peacekeepers] don’t understand how powerful a position they are in, they will never understand what they do is actually wrong” (Elks). As such, unlike other traditional institutional uniforms, such as that of a soldier or a police officer, a peacekeeper’s uniform stands out as an enigma. One the one hand, peacekeepers channel the peaceful and passive organisational values of the UN by wearing the blue beret or helmet, whilst at the same time, they continue to sport the national military body uniform of their home country. Questions pertaining to the peacekeeper’s uniform arise and require further exploration: how can peacekeepers disassociate from their disciplined military personas and learnt combat skills if they continue to wear military camouflage during peacekeeping missions? Is the addition of the blue beret or helmet enough to reconfigure the body of the peacekeeper from one of violence, masculinity, and offence to that of peace, nurture, and diplomacy? Certainly, a range of factors are pertinent to an understanding of peacekeepers’ behaviour and group culture. But whether these two opposing identities can cohesively create or reconstitute a third identity using the positive skills and attributes of both juxtaposing institutions remains elusive. Nonetheless, the blue beret is a symbol of international hope, not only for vulnerable populations, but also for the world population collectively, as it represents neutral third-party member states working together to rebuild the world through non-combative means. References Borger, Julian. “Elite Forces Fear the Coming of the Egalitarian Beret.” The Guardian 19 Oct. 2000. <https://www.theguardian.com/world/2000/oct/19/julianborger>. Elks, Sonia. “Haitians Say Underaged Girls Were Abused by U.N. Peacekeepers.” Reuters 19 Dec. 2019. <https://www.reuters.com/article/us-haiti-women-peacekeepers-idUSKBN1YM27W>. Escobales, Roxanne. “UN Peacekeepers 'Traded Gold and Guns with Congolese rebels'.” The Guardian 28 Apr. 2008. <https://www.theguardian.com/world/2008/apr/28/congo.unitednations>. Essa, Azad. “Why Do Some Peacekeepers Rape? The Full Report.” Al Jazeera 10 Aug. 2017. <https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2017/8/10/why-do-some-peacekeepers-rape-the-full-report>. Freedman, Rosa. “Why Do peacekeepers Have Immunity in Sex Abuse Cases?” CNN 25 May 2015. <https://edition.cnn.com/2015/05/22/opinions/freedman-un-peacekeepers-immunity/index.html>. Guterres, António. Address to High-Level Meeting on the United Nations Response to Sexual Exploitation and Abuse. United Nations. 18 Sep. 2017. <https://www.un.org/sg/en/content/sg/speeches/2017-09-18/secretary-generals-sea-address-high-level-meeting>. Henry, Charles P. Ralph Bunche: Model Negro or American Other? New York: New York UP, 1999. Howard, Lise Morjé. Power in Peacekeeping. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2019. Joseph, Nathan, and Nicholas Alex. "The Uniform: A Sociological Perspective." American Journal of Sociology 77.4 (1972): 719-730. Kliest, Nicole. “Why the Beret Never Goes Out of Style.” TZR 6 April 2021. <https://www.thezoereport.com/fashion/history-berets-hat-trend>. Rubinstein, Robert A. "Intervention and Culture: An Anthropological Approach to Peace Operations." Security Dialogue 36.4 (2005): 527-544. DOI: 10.1177/0967010605060454. ———. Peacekeeping under Fire: Culture and Intervention. Routledge, 2015. Rycroft, Matthew. "When a Girl Looks Up to a Blue Helmet, She Should Do So Not in Fear, But in Hope." 10 Mar. 2016. <https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/when-a-girl-looks-up-to-a-blue-helmet-she-should-do-so-not-in-fear-but-in-hope>. Smith, David, and Paul Lewis. "UN Peacekeepers Accused of Killing and Rape in Central African Republic." The Guardian 12 Aug. 2015. <https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/aug/11/un-peacekeepers-accused-killing-rape-central-african-republic>. United Nations. :United Nations Emblem and Flag." N.d. <https://www.un.org/en/about-us/un-emblem-and-flag>. United Nations Peacekeeping. “Where We Operate.” N.d. <https://peacekeeping.un.org/en/where-we-operate>. Urquhart, Brian. Ralph Bunche: An American Life. New York: W.W. Norton & Co. 1993. Zeffman, Henry. “Charity Sex Scandal: UN Staff ‘Responsible for 60,000 rapes in a Decade’.” The Times 14 Feb. 2018. <https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/un-staff-responsible-for-60-000-rapes-in-a-decade-c627rx239>.

Photo by Sean Pollock on Unsplash ABSTRACT Bioethics and Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) were born out of similar concerns, such as the reaction to scandal and the restraint of irresponsible actions by individuals and organizations. However, these fields of knowledge are seldom explored together. This article attempts to explain the motives behind the gap between bioethics and CSR, while arguing that their shared agenda – combined with their contrasting principles and goals – suggests there is potential for fruitful dialogue that enables the actualization of bioethical agendas and provides a direction for CSR in health-related organizations. INTRODUCTION Bioethics and Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) seem to be cut from the same cloth: the concern for human rights and the response to scandal. Both are tools for the governance of organizations, shaping how power flows and decisions are made. They have taken the shape of specialized committees, means of stakeholder inclusion at deliberative forums, compliance programs, and internal processes. It should be surprising, then, that these two fields of study and practice have developed separately, only recently re-approaching one another. There have been displays of this reconnection both in academic and corporate spaces, with bioethics surfacing as part of the discourse of CSR and compliance initiatives. However, this is still a relatively timid effort. Even though the bioethics-CSR divide presents mostly reasonable explanations for this difficult relationship between the disciplines, current proposals suggest there is much to be gained from a stronger relationship between them. This article explores the common history of bioethics and corporate social responsibility and identifies their common features and differences. It then explores the dispute of jurisdictions due to professional and academic “pedigree” and incompatibilities in the ideological and teleological spheres as possible causes for the divide. The discussion turns to paths for improving the reflexivity of both disciplines and, therefore, their openness to mutual contributions. I. Cut Out of the Same Cloth The earliest record of the word “bioethics” dates back to 1927 as a term that designates one’s ethical responsibility toward not only human beings but other lifeforms as well, such as animals and plants.[1] Based on Kantian ethics, the term was coined as a response to the great prestige science held at its time. It remained largely forgotten until the 1970s, when it resurfaced in the United States[2] as the body of knowledge that can be employed to ensure the responsible pursuit and application of science. The resurgence was prompted by a response to widespread irresponsible attitudes toward science and grounded in a pluralistic perspective of morality.[3] In the second half of the twentieth century, states and the international community assumed the duty to protect human rights, and bioethics became a venue for discussing rights.[4] There is both a semantic gap and a contextual gap between these two iterations, with some of them already being established. Corporate social responsibility is often attributed to the Berle-Dodd debate. The discussion was characterized by diverging views on the extent of the responsibility of managers.[5] It was later settled as positioning the company, especially the large firm, as an entity whose existence is fomented by the law due to its service to the community. The concept has evolved with time, departing from a largely philanthropic meaning to being ingrained in nearly every aspect of a company’s operations. This includes investments, entrepreneurship models, and its relationship to stakeholders, leading to an increasing operationalization and globalization of the concept.[6] At first sight, these two movements seem to stem from different contexts. Despite the difference, it is also possible to tell a joint history of bioethics and CSR, with their point of contact being a generalized concern with technological and social changes that surfaced in the sixties. The publishing of Silent Spring in 1962 by Rachel Carson exemplifies this growing concern over the sustainability of the ruling economic growth model of its time by commenting on the effects of large-scale agriculture and the use of pesticides in the population of bees, one of the most relevant pollinators of crops consumed by humans. The book influenced both the author responsible for the coining bioethics in the 1971[7] and early CSR literature.[8] By initiating a debate over the sustainability of economic models, the environmentalist discourse became a precursor to vigorous social movements for civil rights. Bioethics was part of the trend as it would be carried forward by movements such as feminism and the patients’ rights movement.[9] Bioethics would gradually move from a public discourse centered around the responsible use of science and technology to academic and government spaces.[10] This evolution led to an increasing emphasis on intellectual rigor and governance. The transformation would unravel the effort to take effective action against scandal and turn bioethical discourse into governance practices,[11] such as bioethics and research ethics committees. The publication of the Belmont Report[12] in the aftermath of the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, as well as the creation of committees such as the “God Committee,”[13] which aimed to develop and enforce criteria for allocating scarce dialysis machines, exemplify this shift. On the side of CSR, this period represents, at first, a stronger pact between businesses and society due to more stringent environmental and consumer regulations. But afterward, a joint trend emerged: on one side, the deregulation within the context of neoliberalism, and on the other, the operationalization of corporate social responsibility as a response to societal concerns.[14] The 1990s saw both opportunities and crises that derived from globalization. In the political arena, the end of the Cold War led to an impasse in the discourse concerning human rights,[15] which previously had been split between the defense of civil and political rights on one side and social rights on the other. But at the same time, agendas that were previously restricted territorially became institutionalized on a global scale.[16] Events such as the European Environment Agency (1990), ECO92 in Rio de Janeiro (1992), and the UN Global Compact (2000) are some examples of the globalization of CSR. This process of institutionalization would also mirror a crisis in CSR, given that its voluntarist core would be deemed lackluster due to the lack of corporate accountability. The business and human rights movement sought to produce new binding instruments – usually state-based – that could ensure that businesses would comply with their duties to respect human rights.[17] This rule-creation process has been called legalization: a shift from business standards to norms of varying degrees of obligation, precision, and delegation.[18] Bioethics has also experienced its own renewed identity in the developed world, perhaps because of its reconnection to public and global health. Global health has been the object of study for centuries under other labels (e.g., the use of tropical medicine to assist colonial expeditions) but it resurfaced in the political agenda recently after the pandemics of AIDS and respiratory diseases.[19] Bioethics has been accused from the inside of ignoring matters beyond the patient-provider relationship,[20] including those related to public health and/or governance. Meanwhile, scholars claimed the need to expand the discourse to global health.[21] In some countries, bioethics developed a tight relationship with public health, such as Brazil,[22] due to its connections to the sanitary reform movement. The United Kingdom has also followed a different path, prioritizing governance practices and the use of pre-established institutions in a more community-oriented approach.[23] The Universal Declaration on Bioethics and Rights followed this shift toward a social dimension of bioethics despite being subject to criticism due to its human rights-based approach in a field characterized by ethical pluralism.[24] This scenario suggests bioethics and CSR have developed out of similar concerns: the protection of human rights and concerns over responsible development – be it economic, scientific, or technological. However, the interaction between these two fields (as well as business and human rights) is fairly recent both in academic and business settings. There might be a divide between these fields and their practitioners. II. A Tale of Jurisdictions It can be argued that CSR and business and human rights did not face jurisdictional disputes. These fields owe much of their longevity to their roots in institutional economics, whose debates, such as the Berle-Dodd debate, were based on interdisciplinary dialogue and the abandonment of sectorial divisions and public-private dichotomies.[25] There was opposition to this approach to the role of companies in society that could have implications for CSR’s interdisciplinarity, such as the understanding that corporate activities should be restricted to profit maximization.[26] Yet, those were often oppositions to CSR or business and human rights themselves. The birth of bioethics in the USA can be traced back to jurisdictional disputes over the realm of medicine and life sciences.[27] The dispute unfolded between representatives of science and those of “society’s conscience,” whether through bioethics as a form of applied ethics or other areas of knowledge such as theology.[28] Amid the civil rights movements, outsiders would gain access to the social sphere of medicine, simultaneously bringing it to the public debate and emphasizing the decision-making process as the center of the medical practice.[29] This led to the emergence of the bioethicist as a professional whose background in philosophy, theology, or social sciences deemed the bioethicist qualified to speak on behalf of the social consciousness. In other locations this interaction would play out differently: whether as an investigation of philosophically implied issues, a communal effort with professional institutions to enhance decision-making capability, or a concern with access to healthcare.[30] In these situations, the emergence and regulation of bioethics would be way less rooted in disputes over jurisdictions. This contentious birth of bioethics would have several implications, most related to where the bioethicist belongs. After the civil rights movements subsided, bioethics moved from the public sphere into an ivory tower: intellectual, secular, and isolated. The scope of the bioethicist would be increasingly limited to the spaces of academia and hospitals, where it would be narrowed to the clinical environment.[31] This would become the comfort zone of professionals, much to the detriment of social concerns. This scenario was convenient to social groups that sought to affirm their protagonism in the public arena, with conservative and progressive movements alike questioning the legitimacy of bioethics in the political discourse.[32] Even within the walls of hospitals and clinics, bioethics would not be excused from criticism. Afterall, the work of bioethicists is often unregulated and lacks the same kind of accountability that doctors and lawyers have. Then, is there a role to be played by the bioethicist? This trend of isolation leads to a plausible explanation for why bioethics did not develop an extensive collaboration with corporate social responsibility nor with business and human rights. Despite stemming from similar agendas, bioethics’ orientation towards the private sphere resulted in a limited perspective on the broader implications of its decisions. This existential crisis of the discipline led to a re-evaluation of its nature and purpose. Its relevance has been reaffirmed due to the epistemic advantage of philosophy when engaging normative issues. Proper training enables the bioethicist to avoid falling into traps of subjectivism or moralism, which are unable to address the complexity of decision-making. It also prevents the naïve seduction of “scientifying” ethics.[33] This is the starting point of a multitude of roles that can be attributed to the bioethicists. There are three main responsibilities that fall under bioethics: (i) activism in biopolicy, through the engagement in the creation of laws, jurisprudence, and public policies; (ii) the exercise of bioethics expertise, be it through the specialized knowledge in philosophical thought, its ability to juggle multiple languages related to various disciplines related to bioethics, or its capacity to combat and avoid misinformation and epistemic distortion; (iii) and, intellectual exchange, by exercising awareness that it is necessary to work with specialists from different backgrounds to achieve its goals.[34] All of those suggest the need for bioethics to improve its dialogue with CSR and business and human rights. Both CSR and business and human rights have been the arena of political disputes over the role of regulations and corporations themselves, and the absence of strong stances by bioethicists risks deepening their exclusion from the public arena. Furthermore, CSR and business and human rights are at the forefront of contemporary issues, such as the limits to sustainable development and appropriate governance structures, which may lead to the acceptance of values and accomplishment of goals cherished by bioethics. However, a gap in identifying the role and nature of bioethics and CSR may also be an obstacle for bridging the chasm between bioethics and CSR. III. From Substance to Form: Philosophical Groundings of CSR and Bioethics As mentioned earlier, CSR is, to some extent, a byproduct of institutionalism. Institutional economics has a philosophical footprint in the pragmatic tradition[35], which has implications for the purpose of the movement and the typical course of the debate. The effectiveness of regulatory measures is often at the center of CSR and business and human rights debates: whatever the regulatory proposal may be, compliance, feasibility, and effectiveness are the kernel of the discussion. The axiological foundation is often the protection of human rights. But discussions over the prioritization of some human rights over others or the specific characteristics of the community to be protected are often neglected.[36] It is worth reinforcing that adopting human rights as an ethical standard presents problems to bioethics, given its grounding in the recognition of ethical pluralism. Pragmatism adopts an anti-essentialist view, arguing that concepts derive from their practical consequences instead of aprioristic elements.[37] Therefore, truth is transitory and context dependent. Pragmatism embraces a form of moral relativism and may find itself in an impasse in the context of political economy and policymaking due to its tendency to be stuck between the preservation of the status quo and the defense of a technocratic perspective, which sees technical and scientific progress as the solution to many of society’s issues.[38] These characteristics mean that bioethics has a complicated relationship with pragmatism. Indeed, there are connections between pragmatism and the bioethics discourse. Both can be traced back to American naturalism.[39] The early effort in bioethics to make it ecumenical, thus building on a common but transitory morality,[40] sounds pragmatic. Therefore, scholars suggest that bioethics should rely on pragmatism's perks and characteristics to develop solutions to new ethical challenges that emerge from scientific and technological progress. Nonetheless, ethical relativism is a problem for bioethics when it bleeds from a metaethical level into the subject matters themselves. After all, the whole point of bioethics is either descriptive, where it seeks to understand social values and conditions that pertain to its scope, or normative, where it investigates what should be done in matters related to medicine, life sciences, and social and technological change. It is a “knowledge of how to use knowledge.” Therefore, bioethics is a product of disillusionment regarding science and technology's capacity to produce exclusively good consequences. It was built around an opposition to ethical relativism—even though the field is aware of the particularity of its answers. This is true not only for the scholarly arena, where the objective is to produce ethically sound answers but also for bioethics governance, where relativism may induce decision paralysis or open the way to points of view disconnected from facts.[41] But there might be a point for more pragmatic bioethics. Bioethics has become an increasingly public enterprise which seeks political persuasion and impact in the regulatory sphere. When bioethics is seen as an enterprise, achieving social transformation is its main goal. In this sense, pragmatism can provide critical tools to identify idiosyncrasies in regulation that prove change is needed. An example of how this may play out is the abortion rights movement in the global south.[42] Despite barriers to accessing safe abortion, this movement came up with creative solutions and a public discourse focused on the consequences of its criminalization rather than its moral aspects. IV. Bridging the Divide: Connections Between Bioethics and CSR There have been attempts to bring bioethics and CSR closer to each other. Corporate responsibility can be a supplementary strategy for achieving the goals of bioethics. The International Bioethics Committee (IBC), an institution of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), highlights the concept that social responsibility regarding health falls under the provisions of the Universal Declaration on Bioethics and Human Rights (UDBHR). It is a means of achieving good health (complete physical, mental, and social well-being) through social development.[43] Thus, it plays out as a condition for actualizing the goals dear to bioethics and general ethical standards,[44] such as autonomy and awareness of the social consequences of an organization’s governance. On this same note, CSR is a complementary resource for healthcare organizations that already have embedded bioethics into their operations[45] as a way of looking at the social impact of their practices. And bioethics is also an asset of CSR. Bioethics can inform the necessary conditions for healthcare institutions achieving a positive social impact. When taken at face value, bioethics may offer guidelines for ethical and socially responsible behavior in the industry, instructing how these should play out in a particular context such as in research, and access to health.[46] When considering the relevance of rewarding mechanisms,[47] bioethics can guide the establishment of certification measures to restore lost trust in the pharmaceutical sector.[48] Furthermore, recognizing that the choice is a more complex matter than the maximization of utility can offer a nuanced perspective on how organizations dealing with existentially relevant choices understand their stakeholders.[49] However, all of those proposals might come with the challenge of proving that something can be gained from its addition to self-regulatory practices[50] within the scope of a dominant rights-based approach to CSR and global and corporate law. It is evident that there is room for further collaboration between bioethics and CSR. Embedding either into the corporate governance practices of an organization tends to be connected to promoting the other.[51] While there are some incompatibilities, organizations should try to overcome them and take advantage of the synergies and similarities. CONCLUSION Despite their common interests and shared history, bioethics and corporate social responsibility have not produced a mature exchange. Jurisdictional issues and foundational incompatibilities have prevented a joint effort to establish a model of social responsibility that addresses issues particular to the healthcare sector. Both bioethics and CSR should acknowledge that they hold two different pieces of a cognitive competence necessary for that task: CSR offers experience on how to turn corporate ethical obligations operational, while bioethics provides access to the prevailing practical and philosophical problem-solving tools in healthcare that were born out of social movements. Reconciling bioethics and CSR calls for greater efforts to comprehend and incorporate the social knowledge developed by each field reflexively[52] while understanding their insights are relevant to achieving some common goals. - [1]. Fritz Jahr, “Bio-Ethik: Eine Umschau Über Die Ethischen Beziehungen Des Menschen Zu Tier Und Pflanze,” Kosmos - Handweiser Für Naturfreunde 24 (1927): 2–4. [2]. Van Rensselaer Potter, “Bioethics, the Science of Survival,” Perspectives in Biology and Medicine 14, no. 1 (1970): 127–53, https://doi.org/10.1353/pbm.1970.0015. [3]. Maximilian Schochow and Jonas Grygier, eds., “Tagungsbericht: 1927 – Die Geburt der Bioethik in Halle (Saale) durch den protestantischen Theologen Fritz Jahr (1895-1953),” Jahrbuch für Recht und Ethik / Annual Review of Law and Ethics 21 (June 11, 2014): 325–29, https://doi.org/10.3726/978-3-653-02807-2. [4] George J. Annas, American Bioethics: Crossing Human Rights and Health Law Boundaries (Oxford ; New York: Oxford University Press, 2005). [5] Philip L. Cochran, “The Evolution of Corporate Social Responsibility,” Business Horizons 50, no. 6 (November 2007): 449–54, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bushor.2007.06.004. p. 449. [6] Mauricio Andrés Latapí Agudelo, Lára Jóhannsdóttir, and Brynhildur Davídsdóttir, “A Literature Review of the History and Evolution of Corporate Social Responsibility,” International Journal of Corporate Social Responsibility 4, no. 1 (December 2019): 23, https://doi.org/10.1186/s40991-018-0039-y. [7] Potter, “Bioethics, the Science of Survival.” p. 129. [8] Latapí Agudelo, Jóhannsdóttir, and Davídsdóttir, “A Literature Review of the History and Evolution of Corporate Social Responsibility.” p. 4. [9] Albert R. Jonsen, The Birth of Bioethics (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003). p. 368-371. [10] Jonsen. p. 372. [11] Jonathan Montgomery, “Bioethics as a Governance Practice,” Health Care Analysis 24, no. 1 (March 2016): 3–23, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10728-015-0310-2. [12]. The National Commission for the Protection of Human Subjects of Biomedical and Behavioral Research, “The Belmont Report: Ethical Principles and Guidelines for the Protection of Human Subjects of Research” (Washington: Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, April 18, 1979), https://www.hhs.gov/ohrp/sites/default/files/the-belmont-report-508c_FINAL.pdf. [13] Shana Alexander, “They Decide Who Lives, Who Dies,” in LIFE, by Time Inc, 19th ed., vol. 53 (Nova Iorque: Time Inc, 1962), 102–25. [14]. Latapí Agudelo, Jóhannsdóttir, and Davídsdóttir, “A Literature Review of the History and Evolution of Corporate Social Responsibility.” [15]. Boaventura de Sousa Santos, “Por Uma Concepção Multicultural Dos Direitos Humanos,” Revista Crítica de Ciências Sociais, no. 48 (June 1997): 11–32. [16] Latapí Agudelo, Jóhannsdóttir, and Davídsdóttir, “A Literature Review of the History and Evolution of Corporate Social Responsibility.” [17]. Anita Ramasastry, “Corporate Social Responsibility Versus Business and Human Rights: Bridging the Gap Between Responsibility and Accountability,” Journal of Human Rights 14, no. 2 (April 3, 2015): 237–59, https://doi.org/10.1080/14754835.2015.1037953. [18]. Kenneth W Abbott et al., “The Concept of Legalization,” International Organization, Legalization and World Politics, 54, no. 3 (2000): 401–4019. [19]. Jens Holst, “Global Health – Emergence, Hegemonic Trends and Biomedical Reductionism,” Globalization and Health 16, no. 1 (December 2020): 42–52, https://doi.org/10.1186/s12992-020-00573-4. [20]. Albert R. Jonsen, “Social Responsibilities of Bioethics,” Journal of Urban Health: Bulletin of the New York Academy of Medicine 78, no. 1 (March 1, 2001): 21–28, https://doi.org/10.1093/jurban/78.1.21. [21]. Solomon R Benatar, Abdallah S Daar, and Peter A Singer, “Global Health Challenges: The Need for an Expanded Discourse on Bioethics,” PLoS Medicine 2, no. 7 (July 26, 2005): e143, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pmed.0020143. [22]. Márcio Fabri dos Anjos and José Eduardo de Siqueira, eds., Bioética No Brasil: Tendências e Perspectivas, 1st ed., Bio & Ética (São Paulo: Sociedade Brasileira de Bioética, 2007). [23]. Montgomery, “Bioethics as a Governance Practice.” p. 8-9. [24]. Aline Albuquerque S. de Oliveira, “A Declaração Universal Sobre Bioética e Direitos Humanos e a Análise de Sua Repercussão Teórica Na Comunidade Bioética,” Revista Redbioética/UNESCO 1, no. 1 (2010): 124–39. [25] John R. Commons, “Law and Economics,” The Yale Law Journal 34, no. 4 (February 1925): 371, https://doi.org/10.2307/788562; Robert L. Hale, “Bargaining, Duress, and Economic Liberty,” Columbia Law Review 43, no. 5 (July 1943): 603–28, https://doi.org/10.2307/1117229; Karl N. Llewellyn, “The Effect of Legal Institutions Upon Economics,” The American Economic Review 15, no. 4 (1925): 665–83; Carlos Portugal Gouvêa, Análise Dos Custos Da Desigualdade: Efeitos Institucionais Do Círculo Vicioso de Desigualdade e Corrupção, 1st ed. (São Paulo: Quartier Latin, 2021). p. 84-94. [26] Milton Friedman, “A Friedman Doctrine‐- The Social Responsibility of Business Is to Increase Its Profits,” The New York Times, September 13, 1970, sec. Archives, https://www.nytimes.com/1970/09/13/archives/a-friedman-doctrine-the-social-responsibility-of-business-is-to.html. [27] Montgomery, “Bioethics as a Governance Practice.” p. 8. [28] John Hyde Evans, The History and Future of Bioethics: A Sociological View, 1st ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). [29] David J. Rothman, Strangers at the Bedside: A History of How Law and Bioethics Transformed Medical Decision Making, 2nd pbk. ed, Social Institutions and Social Change (New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 2003). p. 3. [30] Volnei Garrafa, Thiago Rocha Da Cunha, and Camilo Manchola, “Access to Healthcare: A Central Question within Brazilian Bioethics,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics 27, no. 3 (July 2018): 431–39, https://doi.org/10.1017/S0963180117000810. [31] Jonsen, “Social Responsibilities of Bioethics.” [32] Evans, The History and Future of Bioethics. p. 75-79, 94-96. [33] Julian Savulescu, “Bioethics: Why Philosophy Is Essential for Progress,” Journal of Medical Ethics 41, no. 1 (January 2015): 28–33, https://doi.org/10.1136/medethics-2014-102284. [34] Silvia Camporesi and Giulia Cavaliere, “Can Bioethics Be an Honest Way of Making a Living? A Reflection on Normativity, Governance and Expertise,” Journal of Medical Ethics 47, no. 3 (March 2021): 159–63, https://doi.org/10.1136/medethics-2019-105954; Jackie Leach Scully, “The Responsibilities of the Engaged Bioethicist: Scholar, Advocate, Activist,” Bioethics 33, no. 8 (October 2019): 872–80, https://doi.org/10.1111/bioe.12659. [35] Philip Mirowski, “The Philosophical Bases of Institutionalist Economics,” Journal of Economic Issues, Evolutionary Economics I: Foundations of Institutional Thought, 21, no. 3 (September 1987): 1001–38. [36] David Kennedy, “The International Human Rights Movement: Part of the Problem?,” Harvard Human Rights Journal 15 (2002): 101–25. [37] Richard Rorty, “Pragmatism, Relativism, and Irrationalism,” Proceedings and Addresses of the American Philosophical Association 53, no. 6 (August 1980): 717+719-738. [38]. Mirowski, “The Philosophical Bases of Institutionalist Economics.” [39]. Glenn McGee, ed., Pragmatic Bioethics, 2nd ed, Basic Bioethics (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 2003). [40]. Tom L. Beauchamp and James F. Childress, Principles of Biomedical Ethics, 7th ed (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013). [41]. Montgomery, “Bioethics as a Governance Practice.” [42]. Debora Diniz and Giselle Carino, “What Can Be Learned from the Global South on Abortion and How We Can Learn?,” Developing World Bioethics 23, no. 1 (March 2023): 3–4, https://doi.org/10.1111/dewb.12385. [43]. International Bioethics Committee, On Social Responsibility and Health Report (Paris: Unesco, 2010). [44]. Cristina Brandão et al., “Social Responsibility: A New Paradigm of Hospital Governance?,” Health Care Analysis 21, no. 4 (December 2013): 390–402, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10728-012-0206-3. [45] Intissar Haddiya, Taha Janfi, and Mohamed Guedira, “Application of the Concepts of Social Responsibility, Sustainability, and Ethics to Healthcare Organizations,” Risk Management and Healthcare Policy Volume 13 (August 2020): 1029–33, https://doi.org/10.2147/RMHP.S258984. [46]The Biopharmaceutical Bioethics Working Group et al., “Considerations for Applying Bioethics Norms to a Biopharmaceutical Industry Setting,” BMC Medical Ethics 22, no. 1 (December 2021): 31–41, https://doi.org/10.1186/s12910-021-00600-y. [47] Anne Van Aaken and Betül Simsek, “Rewarding in International Law,” American Journal of International Law 115, no. 2 (April 2021): 195–241, https://doi.org/10.1017/ajil.2021.2. [48] Jennifer E. Miller, “Bioethical Accreditation or Rating Needed to Restore Trust in Pharma,” Nature Medicine 19, no. 3 (March 2013): 261–261, https://doi.org/10.1038/nm0313-261. [49] John Hardwig, “The Stockholder – A Lesson for Business Ethics from Bioethics?,” Journal of Business Ethics 91, no. 3 (February 2010): 329–41, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10551-009-0086-0. [50] Stefan van Uden, “Taking up Bioethical Responsibility?: The Role of Global Bioethics in the Social Responsibility of Pharmaceutical Corporations Operating in Developing Countries” (Mestrado, Coimbra, Coimbra University, 2012). [51] María Peana Chivite and Sara Gallardo, “La bioética en la empresa: el caso particular de la Responsabilidad Social Corporativa,” Revista Internacional de Organizaciones, no. 13 (January 12, 2015): 55–81, https://doi.org/10.17345/rio13.55-81. [52] Teubner argues that social spheres tend to develop solutions autonomously, but one sphere interfering in the way other spheres govern themselves tends to result in ineffective regulation and demobilization of their autonomous rule-making capabilities. These spheres should develop “reflexion mechanisms” that enable the exchange of their social knowledge and provide effective, non-damaging solutions to social issues. See Gunther Teubner, “Substantive and Reflexive Elements in Modern Law,” Law & Society Review 17, no. 2 (1983): 239–85, https://doi.org/10.2307/3053348.

Photo by Richard Catabay on Unsplash ABSTRACT COVID-19 exposed deep-rooted structural inequities. Allocation protocols developed during COVID-19 may cause furtherance of structural inequalities. In this essay, I specifically address the issue of structural inequities in the context of resource allocation during a period of crisis standard of care. In response to the increasing evidence of structural inequities during the pandemic, physicians and bioethicists Douglas White and Bernard Lo proposed incorporating a correction factor into resource allocation protocols. According to them, this would provide an advantage for disadvantaged individuals. The proposed correction factors use the Area Deprivation Index to determine eligibility. I argue that the correction factor is ethically justified and supported by Rawls’s difference principle, Daniels’s equality of opportunity, and Harris’s double jeopardy argument. I also suggest that the proposed correction factor does not go far enough, particularly if used with other objective factors, such as SOFA scoring. At least one study shows that using SOFA scoring for resource allocation during COVID-19 has a discriminatory effect on non-Hispanic black patients. One problem with the correction factor using the ADI is that it only applies to those currently in the reflected socioeconomic status. Additionally, when only one hospital serves a largely socioeconomically disadvantaged community, all admissions will fall within the targeted category for application of the correction factor. Thus, further actions are needed to dismantle structural inequities, such as implementing load balancing or the planned sharing of resources among healthcare systems. INTRODUCTION COVID-19 forced deep-rooted structural inequities to the surface. SARS-CoV-2 was a novel virus, but the connection between structural inequities and the disparate impact of the virus on marginalized populations is not. The history of pandemics reflects how much structural inequities negatively influence health equity.[1] The lack of preparedness and response to the structural inequities exemplify “blistering systemic failures.”[2] Despite warnings from prior threats from SARS and H1N1, we were unprepared for COVID-19. Antommaria and Chelen show that one-half of responding hospitals did not have an allocation protocol in place.[3] When an influx of critically ill patients and limited resources required implementing a crisis standard of care, many hospitals quickly established protocols addressing the allocation of scarce resources. Most crisis standard of care (CSC) protocols reflect public health’s utilitarian focus on saving the most lives.[4] The utilitarian focus ignores the disproportionate impact resulting from structural inequities. In December 2020, two physicians and bioethicists, Douglas White and Bernard Lo responded to the increasing evidence of the disproportionate impact of COVID-19 on disadvantaged communities by adding a correction factor to their CSC resource allocation protocol. The correction factor adjusts triage scores of individuals living in the most disadvantaged neighborhoods by subtracting one point from the triage score.[5] Patients with lower triage scores are more likely to receive life-saving care. Thus, subtracting a point provides an advantage. The correction factor uses a composite measure of disadvantage to determine eligibility called the Area Deprivation Index (ADI).[6] The ADI is a geographic measure of socioeconomic disadvantage that calculates an aggregate disadvantage score on a 10-point scale. The ADI measures seventeen elements of disadvantage related to poverty, education, employment, physical environment, and infrastructure.[7] The correction factor compensates for structural injustices by using ADI scores of patients in the highest quartile of socioeconomic disadvantage or having an ADI score of 8 to 10 since the strongest association between ADI scores and health outcomes occurs at the highest ADI levels.[8] l. Ethical Justifications Various theories of justice support applying the correction factor in the allocation of scarce resources. Rawls’s difference principle provides an ethical justification for the correction factor as it benefits the worse off in the event of resource allocation.[9] Applying the correction factor and subtracting one point from the triage score admittedly creates inequality among two otherwise like patients, but it is justified under Rawls’s theory since it gives the advantage to the least advantaged, addressing equity. Norman Daniels’ argument for protecting fair “equality of opportunity” also supports the correction factor.[10] The correction factor protects the equality of opportunity for those denied access to care because of deep-rooted structural inequities exacerbated by the pandemic. Using the correction factor to provide access to life-saving resources compensates patients with diminished opportunities in other arenas like the social determinants of health. Derek Parfit’s deontic egalitarianism supports the correction factor. Under Parfit’s view of deontic egalitarianism, justification of giving an advantage to the worse off depends on the reason for the inequality. If the unequal status results from circumstances such as a genetic condition or an accidental injury, like Daniel’s equality of opportunity, deontic egalitarianism does not support giving an advantage to the worse-off. If the unequal position results from the unjust actions of another, such as discriminatory treatment of people of color, deontic egalitarianism supports providing the advantage to address the inequity.[11] The disproportionate impact of resource allocation results from unjust treatment such as discrimination and structural inequity.[12] John Harris’s double jeopardy argument adds additional support to the correction factor in that[13] the socioeconomically disadvantaged or those facing racial or ethnic discrimination may have had an increased risk of contracting COVID-19 or having a severe case or death due to structural inequities. If the triage procedures do not compensate for the structural inequities and they are precluded access to critical care based only on traditional triage, they will suffer double jeopardy. The correction factor avoids this double jeopardy. ll. Operationalizing the Correction Factor Those opposing the correction factor might assert the infeasibility of mitigating inequities during a pandemic.[14] Yet one large US health system successfully applied similar criteria in allocating remdesivir[15] and the National Academy of Medicine endorsed disparity-mitigating criteria for allocating scarce vaccines.[16] Applying the correction factor is neither time nor resource intensive. It will not divert resources from the goal of treating illness and reducing morbidity. With the data available about COVID-19’s disproportionate impact, not applying an available tool to lessen inequities is an abrogation of ethical duty. One utilitarian argument asserts that we will save fewer lives if the prioritized patients are more likely to die despite interventions. Yet society bears responsibility for the social policies that created the disparities. Thus, there is an obligation to mitigate those societal problems, even when doing so might save fewer lives.[17] Some clinicians argue that they should have discretion in determining triage scores. This objection to the correction factor in formulating triage procedures reflects the conflict between clinical and public health ethics. Implementing a CSC protocol shifts decision-making from the clinician to a triage committee and from an individual focus to a community focus. Allowing clinicians to determine triage protocols would increase the risk of decisions based on bias and subjectivity. Another open question is whether the correction factor will achieve the intended goal. Nancy Kass suggests that without evidence to support the effectiveness, we cannot ethically implement the policy.[18] Thus, applying the Kass analysis, diverting a scarce resource to someone less likely to survive should require proof that doing so systematically would resolve or improve structural inequity. There is limited empirical evidence, but we may proceed with caution based on the presumptive data and the hypothesis that a triage allocation that uses a correction factor could help. Computer-based modeling or “tabletop” exercises applying the framework to actual patients but not enacting the protocols could assess the possible effects of the protocols.[19] Perhaps the most robust rebuttal in response to the opposition of applying a correction factor is in an argument proffered by Douglas White that no reasonable triage framework maximizes health outcomes if it creates significant inequalities.[20] White’s argument emphasizes the importance of addressing inequity. lll. A More Robust Version of the Correction Factor The burdens associated with any public health intervention typically fall into three categories:[21] privacy and confidentiality, risk to liberty and self-determination, and justice. Most burdens associated with allocating scarce resources fall under the justice category. I not only disagree with the arguments against using a correction factor, but I also argue that the correction factor does not go far enough. First, using the ADI neglects consideration of people of color disproportionately affected by COVID-19 no longer living in a neighborhood with the highest ADI scores. Based on new research, Sequential Organ Failure Assessment (SOFA) scores are also potentially discriminatory and not ideal for addressing structural inequity, racism, or ethnic discrimination in the triage setting, although they are applied to triage.[22] Second, public hospitals in socioeconomically depressed communities and rural locations may serve a population in which nearly the entire community will have ADI scores that qualify for application of the correction factor. lV. Relying on ADI cannot protect all people disadvantaged due to their race or ethnicity The ADI uses seventeen measures of socioeconomic disadvantage. Some racial inequality in healthcare is unrelated to socioeconomic status and can be missed by ADI. Racial inequality in healthcare may be directly related to implicit and explicit bias and past and current discrimination. But the correction factor will not help the Black patient not currently residing in a highly disadvantaged neighborhood or experiencing other vestiges of racism in the form of socioeconomic disadvantage. A correction factor that uses more information than ADI could make up for some of the weaknesses of SOFA as well. V. When all patients have high ADI Scores What happens when triaging occurs in hospitals serving populations where almost all patients have ADI scores of 8 to 10? To illustrate, I will use the example of Belle Glade, Florida, in western Palm Beach County.[23] The overwhelming majority of the neighborhoods served by the one public hospital, Lakeside Medical Center, is at a level 10 state decile, with a few neighborhoods at 8 and 9 state decile.[24] During a surge in that hospital, the correction factor will apply to every patient. The hospital must then resort to other considerations, such as random allocation. This potential dilemma suggests the need to consider further steps, such as load balancing, to lessen the inequities. Vl. Load Balancing Load balancing is a plan in which hospitals report daily census and available beds. Patients are diverted or transferred to hospitals with open beds when one hospital is at maximum capacity. Although identified as a method to avoid the need for triaging, I suggest load balancing is also equity balancing, especially when the overwhelmed hospital is in a high ADI area. Failures in load balancing exacerbate the harm to disadvantaged populations. Disadvantaged individuals are more likely to seek treatment in hospitals with limited ability to increase capacity or care for many critically ill patients. During surges in COVID-19, hospitals in poor neighborhoods were overrun by admissions and lacked resources to treat, while nearby private hospitals had available beds and resources.[25] The Arizona Department of Health Services developed an effective load-balancing system to coordinate the statewide transfer of patients from overloaded hospitals to other hospitals.[26] The system dramatically improved access to care for people of color and rural populations.[27] One of the state’s foremost responsibilities is safeguarding the health and well-being of people threatened when health systems fail to cooperate. Voluntary load balancing is preferable, but if the healthcare systems are unwilling to cooperate and if voluntary efforts are ineffective, state governments should intervene and require private hospitals to take part in load balancing. When needed, public health officials should issue emergency orders to require hospitals to participate in load-balancing efforts, including accepting patient transfers that are not part of their covered population. CONCLUSION Rawls’s difference principle, Daniels’s equality of opportunity, Parfit’s deontic egalitarianism, and Harris’s double jeopardy argument all justify and may even compel using the correction factor. COVID-19 turned academic and hypothetical discussions and debates about allocating scarce resources and making untenable choices of who lives and who dies to real-life responsibilities. Once hospitals move to a crisis standard of care, they may need to allocate scarce resources, so having systems in place that can compensate for past inequities and improve fairness in access to care is the ethical imperative. Dismantling structural inequities and reassessing allocation protocols should incorporate the correction factor as a new foundational framework and then build on it using load balancing and exercising caution if applying SOFA. It is an ethical responsibility to use these tools to dismantle the pervasive structural inequities when allocating scarce resources. - [1] Goldberg, Daniel S. “Against the Medicalization of Public Health (Ethics).” Public Health Ethics 14, no. 2 (2021): 117–19. https://doi.org/10.1093/phe/phab024. [2] Morrissey, Mary Beth, and Jorge L. Rivera-Agosto. “Protecting the Public's Health in Pandemics: Reflections on Policy Deliberation and the Role of Civil Society in Democracy.” Frontiers in Public Health 9 (June 1, 2021): 6. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpubh.2021.678210. [3] Antommaria, Armand H., Tyler S. Gibb, Amy L. McGuire, Paul Root Wolpe, Matthew K. Wynia, Megan K. Applewhite, Arthur Caplan, et al. “Ventilator Triage Policies during the Covid-19 Pandemic at U.S. Hospitals Associated with Members of the Association of Bioethics Program Directors.” Annals of Internal Medicine 173, no. 3 (April 4, 2020): 188–94. https://doi.org/10.7326/m20-1738; Chelan, Julia S., Douglas B. White, Stephanie Zaza, Amanda N. Perry, Deborah S. Feifer, Maia L. Crawford, and Amber E. Barnato. “US Ventilator Allocation and Patient Triage Policies in Anticipation of the Covid-19 Surge.” Health Security 19, no. 5 (2021): 459–67. https://doi.org/10.1089/hs.2020.0166. [4] Lin, Janet Y., and Lisa Anderson-Shaw. “Rationing of Resources: Ethical Issues in Disasters and Epidemic Situations.” Prehospital and Disaster Medicine 24, no. 3 (2009): 215–21. https://doi.org/10.1017/s1049023x0000683x. [5] Executive Summary Allocation of Scarce Critical Care Resources during a ...,” April 9, 2021. https://ccm.pitt.edu/sites/default/files/Model%20hospital%20policy%20for%20allocation%20of%20critical%20care_2020-03-23%20web.pdf. [6]. Executive Summary Allocation of Scarce Critical Care Resources during a ...,” April 9, 2021. https://ccm.pitt.edu/sites/default/files/Model%20hospital%20policy%20for%20allocation%20of%20critical%20care_2020-03-23%20web.pdf. [7] https://www.neighborhoodatlas.medicine.wisc.edu/mapping; Executive Summary Allocation of Scarce Critical Care Resources during a ...,” April 9, 2021. [8] White, Douglas B., and Bernard Lo. “Structural Inequities, Fair Opportunity, and the Allocation of Scarce ICU Resources.” Hastings Center Report 51, no. 5 (2021): 42–47. https://doi.org/10.1002/hast.1285 [9] McKie, John, and Jeff Richardson. “The Rule of Rescue.” Social Science and Medicine 56 (2003): 2407–19 [10] Daniels, Norman. “Justice, Health, and Health Care.” Essay. In Medicine and Social Justice Essays on the Distribution of Health Care, edited by Rosamond Rodes, Margaret P Battin, and Anita Silvers, Seconded., 17–33. Oxford University Press, n.d. [11] Brock, Dan W. “Priority to the Worse Off in Health Care Resource Prioritization .” Essay. In Medicine and Social Justice Essays on the Distribution of Health Care, edited by Rosamond Rhodes, Margaret Battin, and Anita Silvers, 155–64. Oxford University Press, n.d. [12] Brock, Dan W. “Priority to the Worse Off in Health Care Resource Prioritization .” Essay. In Medicine and Social Justice Essays on the Distribution of Health Care, edited by Rosamond Rhodes, Margaret Battin, and Anita Silvers, 155–64. Oxford University Press, n.d. [13] Harris, J. “Qualifying the Value of Life.” Journal of Medical Ethics 13, no. 3 (1987): 117–23. https://doi.org/10.1136/jme.13.3.117. [14] White, Douglas B., and Bernard Lo. “Mitigating Inequities and Saving Lives with ICU Triage during the COVID-19 Pandemic.” American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine 203, no. 3 (February 1, 2021): 287–95. https://doi.org/10.1164/rccm.202010-3809cp. [15] White, Douglas B., and Bernard Lo. “Mitigating Inequities and Saving Lives with ICU Triage during the COVID-19 Pandemic.” American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine 203, no. 3 (February 1, 2021): 287–95. https://doi.org/10.1164/rccm.202010-3809cp. [16] White, Douglas B., and Bernard Lo. “Mitigating Inequities and Saving Lives with ICU Triage during the COVID-19 Pandemic.” American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine 203, no. 3 (February 1, 2021): 287–95. https://doi.org/10.1164/rccm.202010-3809cp. [17] White, Douglas B., and Bernard Lo. “Mitigating Inequities and Saving Lives with ICU Triage during the COVID-19 Pandemic.” American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine 203, no. 3 (February 1, 2021): 287–95. https://doi.org/10.1164/rccm.202010-3809cp. [18] Kass, Nancy E. “An Ethics Framework for Public Health.” American Journal of Public Health 91, no. 11 (November 2001): 1776–82. https://doi.org/10.2105/ajph.91.11.1776. [19] White, Douglas B., and Bernard Lo. “Mitigating Inequities and Saving Lives with ICU Triage during the COVID-19 Pandemic.” American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine 203, no. 3 (February 1, 2021): 287–95. https://doi.org/10.1164/rccm.202010-3809cp. [20] White, Supra.12 [21] Kass, Nancy E. “An Ethics Framework for Public Health.” American Journal of Public Health 91, no. 11 (November 2001): 1776–82. https://doi.org/10.2105/ajph.91.11.1776. [22] Tolchin, Benjamin, Carol Oladele, Deron Galusha, Nitu Kashyap, Mary Showstark, Jennifer Bonito, Michelle C. Salazar, et al. “Racial Disparities in the SOFA Score among Patients Hospitalized with Covid-19.” PLOS ONE. Public Library of Science, September 17, 2021. https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0257608; SOFA is a prognostic scoring system that assigns points for organ failure evidence within six different organ systems. Higher SOFA scores correlate with higher mortality. New research by Tolchin reveals the flaws in SOFA due to its failure to account for delays in seeking care and overestimates of Black mortality. Also see Antommaria, Armand H., Tyler S. Gibb, Amy L. McGuire, Paul Root Wolpe, Matthew K. Wynia, Megan K. Applewhite, Arthur Caplan, et al. “Ventilator Triage Policies during the Covid-19 Pandemic at U.S. Hospitals Associated with Members of the Association of Bioethics Program Directors.” Annals of Internal Medicine 173, no. 3 (April 4, 2020): 188–94. https://doi.org/10.7326/m20-1738; Chelen, Julia S., Douglas B. White, Stephanie Zaza, Amanda N. Perry, Deborah S. Feifer, Maia L. Crawford, and Amber E. Barnato. “US Ventilator Allocation and Patient Triage Policies in Anticipation of the Covid-19 Surge.” Health Security 19, no. 5 (2021): 459–67. https://doi.org/10.1089/hs.2020.0166; and Pence, Gregory E. Pandemic Bioethics. Peterborough: Broadview Press, 2021. [23] Black – population 59.28 % Median Household income 24,322 Population 20,276 Education: 31.$ HS; 21.71% less than 95 grade, Postsecondary Asso-7%, Bachelors 6.7, ttps://worldpopulationreview.com/us-cities/belle-glade-fl-population [24] Neighborhood atlas®. Neighborhood Atlas - Mapping. (n.d.). Retrieved February 15, 2022, from https://www.neighborhoodatlas.medicine.wisc.edu/mapping [25] White, Douglas, Keynote Address, American Society of Bioethics and Humanities, October 13, 2021, COVID-19 at the Crossroads, https://eventpilotadmin.com/web/planner.php?id=ASBH21 [26] Angelo, A. (2020, May 26). Latest Covid-19 Model Shows Arizona can Meet a Health Care Surge. Retrieved February 15, 2022, from https://communityimpact.com/phoenix/chandler/coronavirus/2020/05/26/latest-covid-19-model-shows-arizona-can-meet-a-health-care-surge/ [27] White, Douglas, Keynote Address, American Society of Bioethics and Humanities, October 13, 2021, COVID-19 at the Crossroads, https://eventpilotadmin.com/web/planner.php?id=ASBH21