Статті в журналах з теми "Pesticides Victoria"

For the past six years the conservation and collection management departments at Museums Victoria have been conducting a major survey to determine the type and extent of hazardous substances in the collections to better inform safe handling and storage practices. This paper focuses on mercury compounds in the collection, including mercury chloride applied as a pesticide, mercury sulfide pigments, liquid mercury used in scientific equipment, and mineral specimens such as native mercury and cinnabar. All these compounds can release volatile mercury vapour into storage furniture and have the potential to contaminate both the cabinet and other specimens stored nearby. Although previous testing had confirmed that the air in storage rooms and workspaces contained no detectable levels of mercury vapour, recent publications by Hawks et al. 2004, Havermans et al. 2015 and Marcotte et al. 2017 showing high levels of mercury vapour inside storage containers in herbaria raised concern that there could be higher than acceptable levels of mercury vapour building up inside storage cabinets at Museums Victoria. This prompted analysis of the headspace in cabinets using a Jerome J405 portable mercury vapour meter. Testing was informed by the results of previous hazards surveys using X-ray fluorescence spectrography to target cabinets where mercury vapour was likely to be present. Air from cabinets was sampled across the indigenous cultures, history, technology and natural sciences collections. Results showed levels of mercury vapour could be considerably above 25 μg/m3 the Australian time-weighted average (TWA) exposure standard for an 8 hour workday in cabinets of bird skins and indigenous artefacts treated with mercuric chloride pesticides. Results above 150 μg/m3 the temporary emergency exposure level (TEEL) were measured in the mineralogy collection. Mitigation strategies are being implemented to reduce the risks to staff health and contamination of other collection materials, including enclosing mercury-containing species of minerals in gas barrier film, venting high risk cabinets to dissipate vapour before accessing specimens, and engineering controls during the handling of specimens.

This study examined the relationship between soil structure and solute transport in a texture contrast soil under 2 different tillage treatments—raised beds and conventional cultivation—in south-western Victoria. Undisturbed soil samples were collected for resin-impregnation and image analysis. This enabled several descriptive parameters of macropore structure to be calculated. Large, undisturbed soil samples were also collected for a solute transport experiment using a KCl solution. A convective log-normal transfer function was used to model Cl– movement. The assessment of soil structure showed that the raised beds contained a better connected pore network than the conventionally cultivated soil. Solute transport was faster through the raised bed soil when close to saturation (at –5 mm tension). Under these conditions, the solute transport parameters showed a smaller ratio of transport volume to soil water volume in the raised bed than the conventionally cultivated soil. Together, these data strongly indicate that the raised beds had greater pore connectivity and were able to transmit solute faster and more efficiently than the conventionally cultivated soil. It is concluded that raised bed soils are better structured and provide less risk from waterlogging than conventionally cultivated soils. However, there is greater potential for preferential flow of pesticides and solutes in raised bed soils.

In 2007, samples of treated effluent were collected at point of discharge to the environment from 39 wastewater treatment plants (WWTPs) located across Victoria, Australia grouped by treatment type. Sample genotoxicity was assessed with a high-throughput luminescent umu test method using Salmonella typhimurium TL210 strain, with and without addition of a commercially available metabolic activation system. Samples were also screened using a gas chromatographic—mass spectrometric mass-structure database recognition method. A genotoxic response was observed in half of the samples tested without metabolic activation system (<LOR – 0.19 μg/L 4-nitroquinoline-N-oxide equivalents). On addition of metabolic activation system, 75% of samples elicited a genotoxic response, the majority of responses were stronger than without metabolic activation (<LOR – 2.97 μg/L benzo[a]pyrene equivalents). The type of WWTP had no effect on genotoxicity. A large number of chemicals were identified in the effluents, although none could be unambiguously tied to the genotoxicity observed. Chemicals observed in one or more effluents included food additives (e.g. dibenzylether), various alkyl phenols, tyre leachates (e.g. 2(3H)-benzothiazolone), antioxidants, flame retardants (e.g. tris(2-chloroethyl)phosphate), insect repellents (e.g. diethyltoluamide), stimulants (e.g. caffeine) and anticonvulsants (e.g. carbamazepine). Of the 451 pesticides screened, carbamate insecticides (e.g. bendiocarb, propoxur), plant growth regulators (e.g. propham) and herbicides (e.g. atrazine, metolachlor, simazine) were amongst the compounds observed.

Loss of perennial ryegrass (Lolium perenne L.) from the pasture within several years of sowing is a common problem in the higher rainfall (550–750 mm annual rainfall), summer-dry regions of south-eastern Australia. This pasture grass came to Australia from northern Europe, where it mostly grows from spring to autumn under mild climatic conditions. In contrast, the summers are generally much drier and hotter in this region of south-eastern Australia. This ‘mismatch’ between genotype and environment may be the fundamental reason for the poor persistence. There is hope that the recently released cultivars, Fitzroy and Avalon, selected and developed from naturalised ryegrass pastures in south-eastern Australia for improved winter growth and persistence will improve the performance of perennial ryegrass in the region. Soon-to-be released cultivars, developed from Mediterranean germplasm, may also bridge the climatic gap between where perennial ryegrass originated and where it is grown in south-eastern Australia. Other factors that influence perennial ryegrass persistence and productivity can be managed to some extent by the landholder. Nutrient status of the soil is important since perennial ryegrass performance improves relative to many other pasture species with increasing nitrogen and phosphorus supply. It appears that high soil exchangeable aluminium levels are also reducing ryegrass performance in parts of the region. The use of lime may resolve problems with high aluminium levels. Weeds that compete with perennial ryegrass become prevalent where bare patches occur in the pasture; they have the opportunity to invade pastures at the opening rains each year. Maintaining some herbage cover over summer and autumn should reduce weed establishment. Diseases of ryegrass are best managed by using resistant cultivars. Insect pests may be best managed by understanding and monitoring their biology to ensure timely application of pesticides and by manipulating herbage mass to alter feed sources and habitat. Grazing management has potential to improve perennial ryegrass performance as frequency and intensity of defoliation affect dry matter production and have been linked to ryegrass persistence, particularly under moisture deficit and high temperature stress. There is some disagreement as to the merit of rotational stocking with sheep, since the results of grazing experiments vary markedly depending on the rotational strategy used, climate, timing of the opening rains, stock class and supplementary feeding policy. We conclude that flexibility of grazing management strategies is important. These strategies should be able to be varied during the year depending on climatic conditions, herbage mass, and plant physiology and stock requirements. Two grazing strategies that show potential are a short rest from grazing the pasture at the opening rains until the pasture has gained some leaf area, in years when the opening rains are late. The second strategy is to allow ryegrass to flower late in the season, preventing new vegetative growth, and perhaps allowing for tiller buds to be preserved in a dormant state over the summer. An extension of this strategy would be to delay grazing until after the ryegrass seed heads have matured and seed has shed from the inflorescences. This has the potential to increase ryegrass density in the following growing season from seedling recruitment. A number of research opportunities have been identified from this review for improving ryegrass persistence. One area would be to investigate the potential for using grazing management to allow late development of ryegrass seed heads to preserve tiller buds in a dormant state over the summer. Another option is to investigate the potential, and subsequently develop grazing procedures, to allow seed maturation and recruitment of ryegrass seedlings after the autumn rains.

Environmental contextOwing to its remoteness, Antarctica is an excellent natural laboratory for conducting studies on the behavior of marine aerosols and for monitoring the impact of global human activities. The aim of this study is to provide an extensive chemical characterization of Antarctic aerosol and to investigate its sources. A distinction among anthropogenic, crustal, and biogenic sources was defined using several chemical markers. AbstractDuring the 2010–11 austral summer, an aerosol sampling campaign was carried out at a coastal Antarctic site (Terra Nova Bay, Victoria Land). In this work, previously published data about water-soluble organic compounds and major and trace elements were merged with novel measurements of major ions, carboxylic acids and persistent organic pollutants (polychlorobiphenyls, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, polychlorinated naphthalenes, polybrominated diphenylethers and organochlorine pesticides) in order to provide a chemical characterisation of Antarctic aerosol and to investigate its sources. The persistent organic pollutants were determined using a high-volume sampler, able to collect both particulate and gaseous fractions, whereas remaining compounds were determined by performing an aerosol size fractionation with a PM10 cascade impactor. Ionic species represented 58% (350ng m–3) of the sum of concentrations of all detected compounds (596ng m–3) in our Antarctic PM10 aerosol samples due to natural emission. Trace concentrations of persistent organic pollutants highlighted that the occurrence of these species can be due to long-range atmospheric transport or due to the research base. Factor analysis was applied to the dataset obtained from the samples collected with the PM10 sampler in order to make a distinction between anthropogenic, crustal and biogenic sources using specific chemical markers.

SUMMARYFruit and vegetable farming generally involves high levels of chemical inputs despite the fact that consumers are increasingly concerned about the sanitary and organoleptic aspects of fruit quality. Pineapple is largely subject to these issues since it is dominated by conventional monocropping with high levels of agrochemical inputs due to nitrogen (N) and potassium (K) fertilisation, weed management, crop protection and flowering induction. However, low-input pineapple cropping systems are both rare and little documented. Our study aimed at replacing all or part of the chemical fertilisers used with local organic fertilisers. It was conducted on the cultivar ‘Queen Victoria’, without pesticides or herbicides, in Reunion Island. We compared the impacts of three fertilisation treatments on pineapple growth and yield, fruit quality traits, symptoms of two major fungal diseases in fruit and production costs and labour times: (i) conventional: NPK fertiliser at recommended doses (265.5 kg ha−1 N–10.53 kg ha−1 P–445.71 kg ha−1 K); (ii) integrated: Mucuna pruriens green manure (240.03 kg ha−1 N, 18.62 kg ha−1 P, 136.11 kg ha−1 K) incorporated into the soil and a half-dose of NPK fertiliser and (iii) organic: M. pruriens green manure incorporated into the soil and foliar applications of sugarcane vinasse from a local distillery, rich in K (14.44 g L−1). Our results showed that NPK fertilisation could be replaced by organic fertilisers as well as by integrated fertilisation. ‘D’-leaf analysis showed that vinasse supplies a largely sufficient K level for growing pineapples. With organic fertilisation, pineapple growth was slower, 199 days after planting vs. 149 days for integrated or conventional fertilisations, and fruit yield was lower, 47.25 t ha−1 vs. 52.51 and 61.24 t ha−1, probably because M. pruriens green manure provided an early increase in soil mineral N, whereas N requirements are much higher four months after planting. However, the fruit weight (709.94 ± 123.53 g) was still within the size range required for the export market (600–900 g). Interestingly, organic fertilisation significantly reduced Leathery Pocket disease and produced the best quality fruit with the highest total soluble solids contents (TSS) and the lowest titratable acidity (TTA). Fruit quality was also significantly improved with integrated fertilisation, with fruit weight similar to that of conventional fertilisation. To conclude, these findings have implications for the sustainability of pineapple production and could lead to low-input innovative cropping systems that reduce production costs and develop local organic inputs.

This paper discusses the development and implementation of integrated pest management (IPM) strategies for broadacre cropping in Victoria, Australia, with reference to other crops and also the levels of adoption of IPM in Australia and overseas. Levels and rates of adoption are mostly low but with some exceptions. The reasons for differing levels of adoption include the failure of strategies to successfully deal with all pests, the lack of motivation to change to using IPM given current successful pesticide-based controls, and the poor availability of IPM advisors in the field. This paper outlines how IPM strategies for wheat, barley and canola crops were developed and implemented using a collaborative approach between farmers, agronomists and entomologists. It was found that although there were no existing specific IPM strategies for the crops grown in the region of south-eastern Australia, there was sufficient information for farmers to start using an IPM approach. This paper gives a case study of implementing change to IPM from conventional pesticide spraying, including the development of a course in IPM for growers and agronomists. It focuses on the process of changing practices and information transfer rather than on entomological details.

A hardy shrub rose evaluation trial was planted at three locations in Wisconsin representing U.S.D.A. cold hardiness zones 3, 4, and 5. There were nine replications of each of the 20 different, new or underused rose cultivars located at each location. The roses were then evaluated monthly (May-Nov.) for three years. Monthly data were taken and parameters included: plant height, width, flowers (color, size, amount, duration), insect injury, disease susceptibility, hips (production, size, and color in fall), and amount of winter dieback in spring. Pesticides and winter protection were not used in the trial to properly evaluate for pest resistance and cold hardiness. Pest resistance for roses varied among the cultivars. `Marie-Victorin' was the most severely infected rose by insects. Blackspot and anthracnose were severe (>60% of plant infected) on `Robusta', Red FairyTM, Kaleidoscope™, Cambridge™, and Madison™. Flower amount and continuous bloom occurred on Carefree Delight™, Cambridge™, Madison™, Knockout™, Fire Meidiland™, Mystic Meidiland™, and Red Fairy™. Hip production occurred on many of the cultivars, however, only Carefree Beauty™, `Marie-Victorin', and Mystic Meidiland™ produced colorful orange-red hips. Winter hardiness also varied between the cultivars.

“I don't think there was ever a field of law which developed as explosively and dramatically as environmental law,” David Sive, a pioneering environmental lawyer, declared in a 1982 interview. “It was the great romance.” Along with new state and federal regulatory agencies and more than a dozen major environmental statutes passed in the 1970s, fledgling public interest environmental law firms emerged as a major force in national politics. The most prominent organizations, founded between 1967 and 1971, included the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF), Center for Law and Social Policy (CLASP), Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), and the Sierra Club Legal Defense Fund. Public Advocates and the Center for Law in the Public Interest, two California-based firms founded during these same years, also initiated key litigation. These small but powerful legal organizations—all predominantly funded by the Ford Foundation—quickly achieved landmark victories that helped to define the early successes of modern environmentalism. They delayed the Alaskan pipeline for more than 3 years, defeated a Disney resort proposed for the Sierra Nevada mountains, and helped push the pesticide DDT off the market in the United States. The organizations also foiled myriad plans for highways, airports, and power plants and pressed agencies to implement new environmental laws in the 1970s.

AbstractThe predictions of three published models of temperature-dependent egg hatch of the European strain of the gypsy moth, Lymantria dispar L., were compared with observed hatch rates of caged egg masses in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Two of the three models gave a good fit to observations. Both of these models considered explicitly the period between oviposition in the summer of one year and hatch of neonates the following spring. When combined with models for temperature-dependent development of larvae and pupae, and adult longevity, the seasonal life history of an entire generation of gypsy moth could be simulated. These composite models predict the seasonal occurrence of all life stages of the insect. The simulated flight period of adult male gypsy moth on Vancouver Island in 1998 compared favourably with observed captures in pheromone traps. A series of gypsy moth generations was simulated using daily temperature inputs reconstructed from climatic normals (period 1961–1990) at various locations on the south coast and southern interior of British Columbia where gypsy moth has been frequently introduced but is not established. These simulations provided estimates of the probability of a persistent population resulting from a predicted stable seasonality of the gypsy moth. The highest probabilities of persistence were in coastal areas along the Strait of Georgia between Vancouver Island and the continental mainland and in southern interior valleys below approximately 500-m elevation (above sea level). Outside these regions, normal climatic profiles resulted in an unstable seasonality for gypsy moth with increasingly late oviposition dates, and subsequent problems in synchronizing initiation and completion of winter diapause with appropriate ambient conditions. The phenology models discussed here can be and were used as decision-support tools either to improve the efficiency of pest management operations (sampling, pesticide applications) or to make better decisions concerning the need for eradication of the gypsy moth in novel environments.

AbstractProviding sources of sustainable and quality potable water in Uganda is a significant public health issue. This project aimed at identifying and prioritizing possible actions on how sustainable high quality potable water in Uganda’s water supply systems could be achieved. In that respect, a review of both the current water supply systems and government programs on drinking water in Uganda was completed. Aspects of quantity, quality, treatment methods, infrastructure, storage and distribution of water for different water systems were evaluated and compared with the existing water supply systems in the U.S., Latin America and the Caribbean, for purposes of generating feasible recommendations and opportunities for improvement. Uganda utilizes surface water, groundwater, and rainwater sources for consumption. Surface water covers 15.4% of the land area and serves both urban and rural populations. Lake Victoria contributes about 85% of the total fresh surface water. Potable water quality is negatively affected by the following factors: disposal of sewage and industrial effluents, agricultural pesticides and fertilizers, and surface run-offs during heavy rains. The total renewable groundwater resources in Uganda are estimated to be 29 million m

Wastewater treatment plants (WWTP) are used worldwide to purify domestic and industrial wastewater before it is returned to the environment. Even after treatment, wastewater may still contain a variety of contaminants, including nutrients (usually nitrogen and phosphorus) and organic pollutants, such as endocrine disruptors and pesticides. These compounds can leak into groundwater via old and/or damaged infrastructure, leaching from biosolids storage areas and/or release of effluents. However, similar contaminant impacts can come from other sources, such as agriculture. It is often very difficult to distinguish the true source of such contamination, especially where wastewater treatment plants are located in agricultural areas. Robust and sensitive techniques are needed to characterize impacts where there are multiple potential sources. This study analyzed a variety of synthetic chemicals using liquid chromatography triple quadrupole mass spectrometry (LC–QQQ–MS) to generate unique fingerprints of pollution. These were used to distinguish the impact on the local groundwater of a WWTP in southeast Victoria (Australia) from that of local agriculture. The use of such novel tracers could become a valuable tool in environmental monitoring, management, and remediation in the future.

Abstract Background Within the last decades, there has been increasing research on the occurrence of chemicals of emerging concern (CECs) in aquatic ecosystems due to their potential adverse effects on freshwater organisms and risk to human health. However, information on CECs in freshwater environments in sub-Saharan countries is very limited. Here, we investigated the occurrence of CECs in snails and sediments collected from 48 sites within the Lake Victoria South Basin, Kenya, which have been previously investigated for water contamination. Samples were analyzed by liquid chromatography coupled to high-resolution mass spectrometry (LC-HRMS) with a target list of 429 compounds. Results In total, 30 compounds have been detected in snails and 78 in sediment samples, compared to 79 previously identified compounds in water. By extending the monitoring of CECs to snails and sediments, we found 68 compounds that were not previously detected in water. These compounds include the anti-cancer drug anastrozole, detected for the first time in the Kenyan environment. Individual compound concentrations were detected up to 480 ng/g wet weight (N-ethyl-o-toluenesulfonamide) in snails and 110 ng/g organic carbon (pirimiphos-methyl) in sediments. Higher contaminant concentrations were found in agricultural sites than in areas not impacted by anthropogenic activities. Crustaceans were the organisms at greatest toxic risk from sediment contamination [toxic unit (TU) up to 0.99] with diazinon and pirimiphos-methyl driving this risk. Acute and chronic risks to algae were driven by diuron (TU up to 0.24), whereas fish were found to be at low-to-no acute risk (TU up to 0.007). Conclusions The compound classes present at the highest frequencies in all matrices were pesticides and biocides. This study shows substantial contamination of surface water in rural western Kenya. By filling data gaps on contamination of sediments and aquatic biota, our study reveals that CECs pose a substantial risk to environmental health in Kenya demanding for monitoring and mitigation.

Conventional agriculture currently relies on the intensive and expansive growth of a small number of monocultures, this is both risky for food security and is causing substantial environmental degradation. Crops are typically grown far from their native origins, enduring climates, pests, and diseases that they have little evolutionary adaptation to. As a result, farming practices involve modifying the environment to suit the crop, often via practices including vegetation clearing, drainage, irrigation, tilling, and the application of fertilizers, pesticides, and herbicides. One avenue for improvement, however, is the diversification of monoculture agricultural systems with traditional foods native to the area. Native foods benefit from evolutionary history, enabling adaptation to local environmental conditions, reducing the need for environmental modifications and external inputs. Traditional use of native foods in Australia has a rich history, yet the commercial production of native foods remains small compared with conventional crops, such as wheat, barley and sugarcane. Identifying what native crops can grow where would be a first step in scoping potential native food industries and supporting farmers seeking to diversify their cropping. In this study, I modeled the potentially suitable distributions of 177 native food and forage species across Australia, given their climate and soil preferences. The coastal areas of Queensland's wet tropics, south-east Queensland, New South Wales, and Victoria were predicted to support the greatest diversity of native food and forage species (as high 80–120 species). These areas also correspond to the nation's most agriculturally intensive areas, including much of the Murray-Darling Basin, suggesting high potential for the diversification of existing intensive monocultures. Native crops with the most expansive potential distribution include Acacia trees, Maloga bean, bush plum, Emu apple, native millet, and bush tomatoes, with these crops largely being tolerant of vast areas of semi-arid conditions. In addition to greater food security, if diverse native cropping results in greater ecosystem service provisioning, through carbon storage, reduced water usage, reduced nutrient runoff, or greater habitat provision, then payment for ecosystem service schemes could also provide supplemental farm income.

Photograph by Gonzalo Echeverria (2010)We need to get some broad-based support, to capture the public’s imagination … so we have to offer up scary scenarios, make simplified, dramatic statements and make little mention of any doubts … each of us has to decide what the right balance is between being effective and being honest (Hulme 347). Acclaimed climate scientist, the late Stephen Schneider, made this comment in 1988. Later he regretted it and said that there are ways of using metaphors that can “convey both urgency and uncertainty” (Hulme 347). What Schneider encapsulates here is the great conundrum for those attempting to communicate climate change to the everyday public. How do scientists capture the public’s imagination and convey the desperation they feel about climate change, but do it ethically? If scientific findings are presented carefully, in boring technical jargon that few can understand, then they are unlikely to attract audiences or provide an impetus for behavioural change. “What can move someone to act?” asks communication theorists Susan Moser and Lisa Dilling (37). “If a red light blinks on in a cockpit” asks Donella Meadows, “should the pilot ignore it until in speaks in an unexcited tone? … Is there any way to say [it] sweetly? Patiently? If one did, would anyone pay attention?” (Moser and Dilling 37). In 2010 Tim Flannery was appointed Panasonic Chair in Environmental Sustainability at Macquarie University. His main teaching role remains within the new science communication programme. One of the first things Flannery was emphatic about was acquainting students with Karl Popper and the origin of the scientific method. “There is no truth in science”, he proclaimed in his first lecture to students “only theories, hypotheses and falsifiabilities”. In other words, science’s epistemological limits are framed such that, as Michael Lemonick argues, “a statement that cannot be proven false is generally not considered to be scientific” (n.p., my emphasis). The impetus for the following paper emanates precisely from this issue of scientific uncertainty — more specifically from teaching a course with Tim Flannery called Communicating climate change to a highly motivated group of undergraduate science communication students. I attempt to illuminate how uncertainty is constructed differently by different groups and that the “public” does not necessarily interpret uncertainty in the same way the sciences do. This paper also analyses how doubt has been politicised and operates polemically in media coverage of climate change. As Andrew Gorman-Murray and Gordon Waitt highlight in an earlier issue of M/C Journal that focused on the climate-culture nexus, an understanding of the science alone is not adequate to deal with the cultural change necessary to address the challenges climate change brings (n.p). Far from being redundant in debates around climate change, the humanities have much to offer. Erosion of Trust in Science The objectives of Macquarie’s science communication program are far more ambitious than it can ever hope to achieve. But this is not necessarily a bad thing. The initiative is a response to declining student numbers in maths and science programmes around the country and is designed to address the perceived lack of communication skills in science graduates that the Australian Council of Deans of Science identified in their 2001 report. According to Macquarie Vice Chancellor Steven Schwartz’s blog, a broader, and much more ambitious aim of the program is to “restore public trust in science and scientists in the face of widespread cynicism” (n.p.). In recent times the erosion of public trust in science was exacerbated through the theft of e-mails from East Anglia University’s Climate Research Unit and the so-called “climategate scandal” which ensued. With the illegal publication of the e-mails came claims against the Research Unit that climate experts had been manipulating scientific data to suit a pro-global warming agenda. Three inquiries later, all the scientists involved were cleared of any wrongdoing, however the damage had already been done. To the public, what this scandal revealed was a certain level of scientific hubris around the uncertainties of the science and an unwillingness to explain the nature of these uncertainties. The prevailing notion remained that the experts were keeping information from public scrutiny and not being totally honest with them, which at least in the short term, damaged the scientists’s credibility. Many argued that this signalled a shift in public opinion and media portrayal on the issue of climate change in late 2009. University of Sydney academic, Rod Tiffen, claimed in the Sydney Morning Herald that the climategate scandal was “one of the pivotal moments in changing the politics of climate change” (n.p). In Australia this had profound implications and meant that the bipartisan agreement on an emissions trading scheme (ETS) that had almost been reached, subsequently collapsed with (climate sceptic) Tony Abbott's defeat of (ETS advocate) Malcolm Turnbull to become opposition leader (Tiffen). Not long after the reputation of science received this almighty blow, albeit unfairly, the federal government released a report in February 2010, Inspiring Australia – A national strategy for engagement with the sciences as part of the country’s innovation agenda. The report outlines a commitment from the Australian government and universities around the country to address the challenges of not only communicating science to the broader community but, in the process, renewing public trust and engagement in science. The report states that: in order to achieve a scientifically engaged Australia, it will be necessary to develop a culture where the sciences are recognized as relevant to everyday life … Our science institutions will be expected to share their knowledge and to help realize full social, economic, health and environmental benefits of scientific research and in return win ongoing public support. (xiv-xv) After launching the report, Innovation Minister Kim Carr went so far as to conflate “hope” with “science” and in the process elevate a discourse of technological determinism: “it’s time for all true friends of science to step up and defend its values and achievements” adding that, "when you denigrate science, you destroy hope” (n.p.). Forever gone is our naïve post-war world when scientists were held in such high esteem that they could virtually use humans as guinea pigs to test out new wonder chemicals; such as organochlorines, of which DDT is the most widely known (Carson). Thanks to government-sponsored nuclear testing programs, if you were born in the 1950s, 1960s or early 1970s, your brain carries a permanent nuclear legacy (Flannery, Here On Earth 158). So surely, for the most part, questioning the authority and hubristic tendencies of science is a good thing. And I might add, it’s not just scientists who bear this critical burden, the same scepticism is directed towards journalists, politicians and academics alike – something that many cultural theorists have noted is characteristic of our contemporary postmodern world (Lyotard). So far from destroying hope, as the former Innovation Minister Kim Carr (now Minister for Innovation, Industry, Science and Research) suggests, surely we need to use the criticisms of science as a vehicle upon which to initiate hope and humility. Different Ways of Knowing: Bayesian Beliefs and Matters of Concern At best, [science] produces a robust consensus based on a process of inquiry that allows for continued scrutiny, re-examination, and revision. (Oreskes 370) In an attempt to capitalise on the Macquarie Science Faculty’s expertise in climate science, I convened a course in second semester 2010 called SCOM201 Science, Media, Community: Communicating Climate Change, with invaluable assistance from Penny Wilson, Elaine Kelly and Liz Morgan. Mike Hulme’s provocative text, Why we disagree about climate change: Understanding controversy, inaction and opportunity provided an invaluable framework for the course. Hulme’s book brings other types of knowledge, beyond the scientific, to bear on our attitudes towards climate change. Climate change, he claims, has moved from being just a physical, scientific, and measurable phenomenon to becoming a social and cultural phenomenon. In order to understand the contested nature of climate change we need to acknowledge the dynamic and varied meanings climate has played in different cultures throughout history as well as the role that our own subjective attitudes and judgements play. Climate change has become a battleground between different ways of knowing, alternative visions of the future, competing ideas about what’s ethical and what’s not. Hulme makes the point that one of the reasons that we disagree about climate change is because we disagree about the role of science in today’s society. He encourages readers to use climate change as a tool to rigorously question the basis of our beliefs, assumptions and prejudices. Since uncertainty was the course’s raison d’etre, I was fortunate to have an extraordinary cohort of students who readily engaged with a course that forced them to confront their own epistemological limits — both personally and in a disciplinary sense. (See their blog: https://scom201.wordpress.com/). Science is often associated with objective realities. It thus tends to distinguish itself from the post-structuralist vein of critique that dominates much of the contemporary humanities. At the core of post-structuralism is scepticism about everyday, commonly accepted “truths” or what some call “meta-narratives” as well as an acknowledgement of the role that subjectivity plays in the pursuit of knowledge (Lyotard). However if we can’t rely on objective truths or impartial facts then where does this leave us when it comes to generating policy or encouraging behavioural change around the issue of climate change? Controversial philosophy of science scholar Bruno Latour sits squarely in the post-structuralist camp. In his 2004 article, “Why has critique run out of steam? From matters of fact to matters of concern”, he laments the way the right wing has managed to gain ground in the climate change debate through arguing that uncertainty and lack of proof is reason enough to deny demands for action. Or to use his turn-of-phrase, “dangerous extremists are using the very same argument of social construction to destroy hard-won evidence that could save our lives” (Latour n.p). Through co-opting (the Left’s dearly held notion of) scepticism and even calling themselves “climate sceptics”, they exploited doubt as a rationale for why we should do nothing about climate change. Uncertainty is not only an important part of science, but also of the human condition. However, as sociologist Sheila Jasanoff explains in her Nature article, “Technologies of Humility”, uncertainty has become like a disease: Uncertainty has become a threat to collective action, the disease that knowledge must cure. It is the condition that poses cruel dilemmas for decision makers; that must be reduced at all costs; that is tamed with scenarios and assessments; and that feeds the frenzy for new knowledge, much of it scientific. (Jasanoff 33) If we move from talking about climate change as “a matter of fact” to “a matter of concern”, argues Bruno Latour, then we can start talking about useful ways to combat it, rather than talking about whether the science is “in” or not. Facts certainly matter, claims Latour, but they can’t give us the whole story, rather “they assemble with other ingredients to produce a matter of concern” (Potter and Oster 123). Emily Potter and Candice Oster suggest that climate change can’t be understood through either natural or cultural frames alone and, “unlike a matter of fact, matters of concern cannot be explained through a single point of view or discursive frame” (123). This makes a lot of what Hulme argues far more useful because it enables the debate to be taken to another level. Those of us with non-scientific expertise can centre debates around the kinds of societies we want, rather than being caught up in the scientific (un)certainties. If we translate Latour’s concept of climate change being “a matter of concern” into the discourse of environmental management then what we come up with, I think, is the “precautionary principle”. In the YouTube clip, “Stephen Schneider vs Skeptics”, Schneider argues that when in doubt about the potential environmental impacts of climate change, we should always apply the precautionary principle. This principle emerged from the UN conference on Environment and Development in Rio de Janeiro in 1992 and concerns the management of scientific risk. However its origins are evident much earlier in documents such as the “Use of Pesticides” from US President’s Science Advisory Committee in 1962. Unlike in criminal and other types of law where the burden of proof is on the prosecutor to show that the person charged is guilty of a particular offence, in environmental law the onus of proof is on the manufacturers to demonstrate the safety of their product. For instance, a pesticide should be restricted or disproved for use if there is “reasonable doubt” about its safety (Oreskes 374). Principle 15 of the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development in 1992 has its foundations in the precautionary principle: “Where there are threats of serious or irreversible environmental damage, lack of full scientific certainty should not be used as a reason for postponing measures to prevent environmental degradation” (n.p). According to Environmental Law Online, the Rio declaration suggests that, “The precautionary principle applies where there is a ‘lack of full scientific certainty’ – that is, when science cannot say what consequences to expect, how grave they are, or how likely they are to occur” (n.p.). In order to make predictions about the likelihood of an event occurring, scientists employ a level of subjectivity, or need to “reveal their degree of belief that a prediction will turn out to be correct … [S]omething has to substitute for this lack of certainty” otherwise “the only alternative is to admit that absolutely nothing is known” (Hulme 85). These statements of “subjective probabilities or beliefs” are called Bayesian, after eighteenth century English mathematician Sir Thomas Bayes who developed the theory of evidential probability. These “probabilities” are estimates, or in other words, subjective, informed judgements that draw upon evidence and experience about the likelihood of event occurring. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) uses Bayesian beliefs to determine the risk or likelihood of an event occurring. The IPCC provides the largest international scientific assessment of climate change and often adopts a consensus model where viewpoint reached by the majority of scientists is used to establish knowledge amongst an interdisciplinary community of scientists and then communicate it to the public (Hulme 88). According to the IPCC, this consensus is reached amongst more than more than 450 lead authors, more than 800 contributing authors, and 2500 scientific reviewers. While it is an advisory body and is not policy-prescriptive, the IPCC adopts particular linguistic conventions to indicate the probability of a statement being correct. Stephen Schneider convinced the IPCC to use this approach to systemise uncertainty (Lemonick). So for instance, in the IPCC reports, the term “likely” denotes a chance of 66%-90% of the statement being correct, while “very likely” denotes more than a 90% chance. Note the change from the Third Assessment Report (2001), indicating that “most of the observed warming in over the last fifty years is likely to have been due to the increase in greenhouse gas emissions” to the Fourth Assessment (February 2007) which more strongly states: “Most of the observed increase in global average temperatures since the mid twentieth century is very likely due to the observed increase in anthropogenic greenhouse gas concentrations” (Hulme 51, my italics). A fiery attack on Tim Flannery by Andrew Bolt on Steve Price’s talkback radio show in June 2010 illustrates just how misunderstood scientific uncertainty is in the broader community. When Price introduces Flannery as former Australian of the Year, Bolt intercedes, claiming Flannery is “Alarmist of the Year”, then goes on to chastise Flannery for making various forecasts which didn’t eventuate, such as that Perth and Brisbane might run out of water by 2009. “How much are you to blame for the swing in sentiment, the retreat from global warming policy and rise of scepticism?” demands Bolt. In the context of the events of late 2009 and early 2010, the fact that these events didn’t materialise made Flannery, and others, seem unreliable. And what Bolt had to say on talkback radio, I suspect, resonated with a good proportion of its audience. What Bolt was trying to do was discredit Flannery’s scientific credentials and in the process erode trust in the expert. Flannery’s response was to claim that, what he said was that these events might eventuate. In much the same way that the climate sceptics have managed to co-opt scepticism and use it as a rationale for inaction on climate change, Andrew Bolt here either misunderstands basic scientific method or quite consciously misleads and manipulates the public. As Naomi Oreskes argues, “proof does not play the role in science that most people think it does (or should), and therefore it cannot play the role in policy that skeptics demand it should” (Oreskes 370). Doubt and ‘Situated’ Hope Uncertainty and ambiguity then emerge here as resources because they force us to confront those things we really want–not safety in some distant, contested future but justice and self-understanding now. (Sheila Jasanoff, cited in Hulme, back cover) In his last published book before his death in mid-2010, Science as a contact sport, Stephen Schneider’s advice to aspiring science communicators is that they should engage with the media “not at all, or a lot”. Climate scientist Ann Henderson-Sellers adds that there are very few scientists “who have the natural ability, and learn or cultivate the talents, of effective communication with and through the media” (430). In order to attract the public’s attention, it was once commonplace for scientists to write editorials and exploit fear-provoking measures by including a “useful catastrophe or two” (Moser and Dilling 37). But are these tactics effective? Susanne Moser thinks not. She argues that “numerous studies show that … fear may change attitudes … but not necessarily increase active engagement or behaviour change” (Moser 70). Furthermore, risk psychologists argue that danger is always context specific (Hulme 196). If the risk or danger is “situated” and “tangible” (such as lead toxicity levels in children in Mt Isa from the Xstrata mine) then the public will engage with it. However if it is “un-situated” (distant, intangible and diffuse) like climate change, the audience is less likely to. In my SCOM201 class we examined the impact of two climate change-related campaigns. The first one was a short film used to promote the 2010 Copenhagen Climate Change Summit (“Scary”) and the second was the State Government of Victoria’s “You have the power: Save Energy” public awareness campaign (“You”). Using Moser’s article to guide them, students evaluated each campaign’s effectiveness. Their conclusions were that the “You have the power” campaign had far more impact because it a) had very clear objectives (to cut domestic power consumption) b) provided a very clear visualisation of carbon dioxide through the metaphor of black balloons wafting up into the atmosphere, c) gave viewers a sense of empowerment and hope through describing simple measures to cut power consumption and, d) used simple but effective metaphors to convey a world progressed beyond human control, such as household appliances robotically operating themselves in the absence of humans. Despite its high production values, in comparison, the Copenhagen Summit promotion was more than ineffective and bordered on propaganda. It actually turned viewers off with its whining, righteous appeal of, “please help the world”. Its message and objectives were ambiguous, it conveyed environmental catastrophe through hackneyed images, exploited children through a narrative based on fear and gave no real sense of hope or empowerment. In contrast the Victorian Government’s campaign focused on just one aspect of climate change that was made both tangible and situated. Doubt and uncertainty are productive tools in the pursuit of knowledge. Whether it is scientific or otherwise, uncertainty will always be the motivation that “feeds the frenzy for new knowledge” (Jasanoff 33). Articulating the importance of Hulme’s book, Sheila Jasanoff indicates we should make doubt our friend, “Without downplaying its seriousness, Hulme demotes climate change from ultimate threat to constant companion, whose murmurs unlock in us the instinct for justice and equality” (Hulme back cover). The “murmurs” that Jasanoff gestures to here, I think, can also be articulated as hope. And it is in this discussion of climate change that doubt and hope sit side-by-side as bedfellows, mutually entangled. Since the “failed” Copenhagen Summit, there has been a distinct shift in climate change discourse from “experts”. We have moved away from doom and gloom discourses and into the realm of what I shall call “situated” hope. “Situated” hope is not based on blind faith alone, but rather hope grounded in evidence, informed judgements and experience. For instance, in distinct contrast to his cautionary tale The Weather Makers: The History & Future Impact of Climate Change, Tim Flannery’s latest book, Here on Earth is a biography of our Earth; a planet that throughout its history has oscillated between Gaian and Medean impulses. However Flannery’s wonder about the natural world and our potential to mitigate the impacts of climate change is not founded on empty rhetoric but rather tempered by evidence; he presents a series of case studies where humanity has managed to come together for a global good. Whether it’s the 1987 Montreal ban on CFCs (chlorinated fluorocarbons) or the lesser-known 2001 Stockholm Convention on POP (Persistent Organic Pollutants), what Flannery envisions is an emerging global civilisation, a giant, intelligent super-organism glued together through social bonds. He says: If that is ever achieved, the greatest transformation in the history of our planet would have occurred, for Earth would then be able to act as if it were as Francis Bacon put it all those centuries ago, ‘one entire, perfect living creature’. (Here on Earth, 279) While science might give us “our most reliable understanding of the natural world” (Oreskes 370), “situated” hope is the only productive and ethical currency we have. ReferencesAustralian Council of Deans of Science. What Did You Do with Your Science Degree? A National Study of Employment Outcomes for Science Degree Holders 1990-2000. Melbourne: Centre for the Study of Higher Education, University of Melbourne, 2001. Australian Government Department of Innovation, Industry, Science and Research, Inspiring Australia – A National Strategy for Engagement with the Sciences. Executive summary. Canberra: DIISR, 2010. 24 May 2010 ‹http://www.innovation.gov.au/SCIENCE/INSPIRINGAUSTRALIA/Documents/InspiringAustraliaSummary.pdf›. “Andrew Bolt with Tim Flannery.” Steve Price. Hosted by Steve Price. Melbourne: Melbourne Talkback Radio, 2010. 9 June 2010 ‹http://www.mtr1377.com.au/index2.php?option=com_newsmanager&task=view&id=6209›. Carson, Rachel. Silent Spring. London: Penguin, 1962 (2000). Carr, Kim. “Celebrating Nobel Laureate Professor Elizabeth Blackburn.” Canberra: DIISR, 2010. 19 Feb. 2010 ‹http://minister.innovation.gov.au/Carr/Pages/CELEBRATINGNOBELLAUREATEPROFESSORELIZABETHBLACKBURN.aspx›. Environmental Law Online. “The Precautionary Principle.” N.d. 19 Jan 2011 ‹http://www.envirolaw.org.au/articles/precautionary_principle›. Flannery, Tim. The Weather Makers: The History & Future Impact of Climate Change. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 2005. ———. Here on Earth: An Argument for Hope. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 2010. Gorman-Murray, Andrew, and Gordon Waitt. “Climate and Culture.” M/C Journal 12.4 (2009). 9 Mar 2011 ‹http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/viewArticle/184/0›. Harrison, Karey. “How ‘Inconvenient’ Is Al Gore’s Climate Change Message?” M/C Journal 12.4 (2009). 9 Mar 2011 ‹http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/viewArticle/175›. Henderson-Sellers, Ann. “Climate Whispers: Media Communication about Climate Change.” Climatic Change 40 (1998): 421–456. Hulme, Mike. Why We Disagree about Climate Change: Understanding, Controversy, Inaction and Opportunity. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2009. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. A Picture of Climate Change: The Current State of Understanding. 2007. 11 Jan 2011 ‹http://www.ipcc.ch/pdf/press-ar4/ipcc-flyer-low.pdf›. Jasanoff, Sheila. “Technologies of Humility.” Nature 450 (2007): 33. Latour, Bruno. “Why Has Critique Run Out of Steam? From Matters of Fact to Matters of Concern.” Critical Inquiry 30.2 (2004). 19 Jan 2011 ‹http://criticalinquiry.uchicago.edu/issues/v30/30n2.Latour.html›. Lemonick, Michael D. “Climate Heretic: Judith Curry Turns on Her Colleagues.” Nature News 1 Nov. 2010. 9 Mar 2011 ‹http://www.nature.com/news/2010/101101/full/news.2010.577.html›. Lyotard, Jean-Francois. The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1984. Moser, Susanne, and Lisa Dilling. “Making Climate Hot: Communicating the Urgency and Challenge of Global Climate Change.” Environment 46.10 (2004): 32-46. Moser, Susie. “More Bad News: The Risk of Neglecting Emotional Responses to Climate Change Information.” In Susanne Moser and Lisa Dilling (eds.), Creating a Climate for Change: Communicating Climate Change and Facilitating Social Change. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007. 64-81. Oreskes, Naomi. “Science and Public Policy: What’s Proof Got to Do with It?” Environmental Science and Policy 7 (2004): 369-383. Potter, Emily, and Candice Oster. “Communicating Climate Change: Public Responsiveness and Matters of Concern.” Media International Australia 127 (2008): 116-126. President’s Science Advisory Committee. “Use of Pesticides”. Washington, D.C.: The White House, 1963. United Nations Declaration on Environment and Development. Rio de Janeiro, 1992. 19 Jan 2011 ‹http://www.unep.org/Documents.Multilingual/Default.asp?DocumentID=78&ArticleID=1163›. “Scary Global Warming Propaganda Video Shown at the Copenhagen Climate Meeting – 7 Dec. 2009.” YouTube. 21 Mar. 2011‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzSuP_TMFtk&feature=related›. Schneider, Stephen. Science as a Contact Sport: Inside the Battle to Save Earth’s Climate. National Geographic Society, 2010. ———. “Stephen Schneider vs. the Sceptics”. YouTube. 21 Mar. 2011 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rj1QcdEqU0›. Schwartz, Steven. “Science in Search of a New Formula.” 2010. 20 May 2010 ‹http://www.vc.mq.edu.au/blog/2010/03/11/science-in-search-of-a-new-formula/›. Tiffen, Rodney. "You Wouldn't Read about It: Climate Scientists Right." Sydney Morning Herald 26 July 2010. 19 Jan 2011 ‹http://www.smh.com.au/environment/climate-change/you-wouldnt-read-about-it-climate-scientists-right-20100727-10t5i.html›. “You Have the Power: Save Energy.” YouTube. 21 Mar. 2011 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCiS5k_uPbQ›.

Introduction Eating is one of the most quintessential activities of human life. Because of this primacy, eating is, as food anthropologist Sidney Mintz has observed, “not merely a biological activity, but a vibrantly cultural activity as well” (48). This article posits that the current awareness of climate change in the Western world is animating such cultural activity as the Slow Food movement and is, as a result, stimulating what could be seen as an evolutionary change in popular foodways. Moreover, this paper suggests that, in line with modelling provided by the Slow Food example, an increased awareness of the connections of climate change to the social injustices of food production might better drive social change in such areas. This discussion begins by proposing that contemporary foodways—defined as “not only what is eaten by a particular group of people but also the variety of customs, beliefs and practices surrounding the production, preparation and presentation of food” (Davey 182)—are changing in the West in relation to current concerns about climate change. Such modification has a long history. Since long before the inception of modern Homo sapiens, natural climate change has been a crucial element driving hominidae evolution, both biologically and culturally in terms of social organisation and behaviours. Macroevolutionary theory suggests evolution can dramatically accelerate in response to rapid shifts in an organism’s environment, followed by slow to long periods of stasis once a new level of sustainability has been achieved (Gould and Eldredge). There is evidence that ancient climate change has also dramatically affected the rate and course of cultural evolution. Recent work suggests that the end of the last ice age drove the cultural innovation of animal and plant domestication in the Middle East (Zeder), not only due to warmer temperatures and increased rainfall, but also to a higher level of atmospheric carbon dioxide which made agriculture increasingly viable (McCorriston and Hole, cited in Zeder). Megadroughts during the Paleolithic might well have been stimulating factors behind the migration of hominid populations out of Africa and across Asia (Scholz et al). Thus, it is hardly surprising that modern anthropogenically induced global warming—in all its’ climate altering manifestations—may be driving a new wave of cultural change and even evolution in the West as we seek a sustainable homeostatic equilibrium with the environment of the future. In 1962, Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring exposed some of the threats that modern industrial agriculture poses to environmental sustainability. This prompted a public debate from which the modern environmental movement arose and, with it, an expanding awareness and attendant anxiety about the safety and nutritional quality of contemporary foods, especially those that are grown with chemical pesticides and fertilizers and/or are highly processed. This environmental consciousness led to some modification in eating habits, manifest by some embracing wholefood and vegetarian dietary regimes (or elements of them). Most recently, a widespread awareness of climate change has forced rapid change in contemporary Western foodways, while in other climate related areas of socio-political and economic significance such as energy production and usage, there is little evidence of real acceleration of change. Ongoing research into the effects of this expanding environmental consciousness continues in various disciplinary contexts such as geography (Eshel and Martin) and health (McMichael et al). In food studies, Vileisis has proposed that the 1970s environmental movement’s challenge to the polluting practices of industrial agri-food production, concurrent with the women’s movement (asserting women’s right to know about everything, including food production), has led to both cooks and eaters becoming increasingly knowledgeable about the links between agricultural production and consumer and environmental health, as well as the various social justice issues involved. As a direct result of such awareness, alternatives to the industrialised, global food system are now emerging (Kloppenberg et al.). The Slow Food (R)evolution The tenets of the Slow Food movement, now some two decades old, are today synergetic with the growing consternation about climate change. In 1983, Carlo Petrini formed the Italian non-profit food and wine association Arcigola and, in 1986, founded Slow Food as a response to the opening of a McDonalds in Rome. From these humble beginnings, which were then unashamedly positing a return to the food systems of the past, Slow Food has grown into a global organisation that has much more future focused objectives animating its challenges to the socio-cultural and environmental costs of industrial food. Slow Food does have some elements that could be classed as reactionary and, therefore, the opposite of evolutionary. In response to the increasing homogenisation of culinary habits around the world, for instance, Slow Food’s Foundation for Biodiversity has established the Ark of Taste, which expands upon the idea of a seed bank to preserve not only varieties of food but also local and artisanal culinary traditions. In this, the Ark aims to save foods and food products “threatened by industrial standardization, hygiene laws, the regulations of large-scale distribution and environmental damage” (SFFB). Slow Food International’s overarching goals and activities, however, extend far beyond the preservation of past foodways, extending to the sponsoring of events and activities that are attempting to create new cuisine narratives for contemporary consumers who have an appetite for such innovation. Such events as the Salone del Gusto (Salon of Taste) and Terra Madre (Mother Earth) held in Turin every two years, for example, while celebrating culinary traditions, also focus on contemporary artisanal foods and sustainable food production processes that incorporate the most current of agricultural knowledge and new technologies into this production. Attendees at these events are also driven by both an interest in tradition, and their own very current concerns with health, personal satisfaction and environmental sustainability, to change their consumer behavior through an expanded self-awareness of the consequences of their individual lifestyle choices. Such events have, in turn, inspired such events in other locations, moving Slow Food from local to global relevance, and affecting the intellectual evolution of foodway cultures far beyond its headquarters in Bra in Northern Italy. This includes in the developing world, where millions of farmers continue to follow many traditional agricultural practices by necessity. Slow Food Movement’s forward-looking values are codified in the International Commission on the Future of Food and Agriculture 2006 publication, Manifesto on the Future of Food. This calls for changes to the World Trade Organisation’s rules that promote the globalisation of agri-food production as a direct response to the “climate change [which] threatens to undermine the entire natural basis of ecologically benign agriculture and food preparation, bringing the likelihood of catastrophic outcomes in the near future” (ICFFA 8). It does not call, however, for a complete return to past methods. To further such foodway awareness and evolution, Petrini founded the University of Gastronomic Sciences at Slow Food’s headquarters in 2004. The university offers programs that are analogous with the Slow Food’s overall aim of forging sustainable partnerships between the best of old and new practice: to, in the organisation’s own words, “maintain an organic relationship between gastronomy and agricultural science” (UNISG). In 2004, Slow Food had over sixty thousand members in forty-five countries (Paxson 15), with major events now held each year in many of these countries and membership continuing to grow apace. One of the frequently cited successes of the Slow Food movement is in relation to the tomato. Until recently, supermarkets stocked only a few mass-produced hybrids. These cultivars were bred for their disease resistance, ease of handling, tolerance to artificial ripening techniques, and display consistency, rather than any culinary values such as taste, aroma, texture or variety. In contrast, the vine ripened, ‘farmer’s market’ tomato has become the symbol of an “eco-gastronomically” sustainable, local and humanistic system of food production (Jordan) which melds the best of the past practice with the most up-to-date knowledge regarding such farming matters as water conservation. Although the term ‘heirloom’ is widely used in relation to these tomatoes, there is a distinctively contemporary edge to the way they are produced and consumed (Jordan), and they are, along with other organic and local produce, increasingly available in even the largest supermarket chains. Instead of a wholesale embrace of the past, it is the connection to, and the maintenance of that connection with, the processes of production and, hence, to the environment as a whole, which is the animating premise of the Slow Food movement. ‘Slow’ thus creates a gestalt in which individuals integrate their lifestyles with all levels of the food production cycle and, hence to the environment and, importantly, the inherently related social justice issues. ‘Slow’ approaches emphasise how the accelerated pace of contemporary life has weakened these connections, while offering a path to the restoration of a sense of connectivity to the full cycle of life and its relation to place, nature and climate. In this, the Slow path demands that every consumer takes responsibility for all components of his/her existence—a responsibility that includes becoming cognisant of the full story behind each of the products that are consumed in that life. The Slow movement is not, however, a regime of abstention or self-denial. Instead, the changes in lifestyle necessary to support responsible sustainability, and the sensual and aesthetic pleasure inherent in such a lifestyle, exist in a mutually reinforcing relationship (Pietrykowski 2004). This positive feedback loop enhances the potential for promoting real and long-term evolution in social and cultural behaviour. Indeed, the Slow zeitgeist now informs many areas of contemporary culture, with Slow Travel, Homes, Design, Management, Leadership and Education, and even Slow Email, Exercise, Shopping and Sex attracting adherents. Mainstreaming Concern with Ethical Food Production The role of the media in “forming our consciousness—what we think, how we think, and what we think about” (Cunningham and Turner 12)—is self-evident. It is, therefore, revealing in relation to the above outlined changes that even the most functional cookbooks and cookery magazines (those dedicated to practical information such as recipes and instructional technique) in Western countries such as the USA, UK and Australian are increasingly reflecting and promoting an awareness of ethical food production as part of this cultural change in food habits. While such texts have largely been considered as useful but socio-politically relatively banal publications, they are beginning to be recognised as a valid source of historical and cultural information (Nussel). Cookbooks and cookery magazines commonly include discussion of a surprising range of issues around food production and consumption including sustainable and ethical agricultural methods, biodiversity, genetic modification and food miles. In this context, they indicate how rapidly the recent evolution of foodways has been absorbed into mainstream practice. Much of such food related media content is, at the same time, closely identified with celebrity mass marketing and embodied in the television chef with his or her range of branded products including their syndicated articles and cookbooks. This commercial symbiosis makes each such cuisine-related article in a food or women’s magazine or cookbook, in essence, an advertorial for a celebrity chef and their named products. Yet, at the same time, a number of these mass media food celebrities are raising public discussion that is leading to consequent action around important issues linked to climate change, social justice and the environment. An example is Jamie Oliver’s efforts to influence public behaviour and government policy, a number of which have gained considerable traction. Oliver’s 2004 exposure of the poor quality of school lunches in Britain (see Jamie’s School Dinners), for instance, caused public outrage and pressured the British government to commit considerable extra funding to these programs. A recent study by Essex University has, moreover, found that the academic performance of 11-year-old pupils eating Oliver’s meals improved, while absenteeism fell by 15 per cent (Khan). Oliver’s exposé of the conditions of battery raised hens in 2007 and 2008 (see Fowl Dinners) resulted in increased sales of free-range poultry, decreased sales of factory-farmed chickens across the UK, and complaints that free-range chicken sales were limited by supply. Oliver encouraged viewers to lobby their local councils, and as a result, a number banned battery hen eggs from schools, care homes, town halls and workplace cafeterias (see, for example, LDP). The popular penetration of these ideas needs to be understood in a historical context where industrialised poultry farming has been an issue in Britain since at least 1848 when it was one of the contributing factors to the establishment of the RSPCA (Freeman). A century after Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle (published in 1906) exposed the realities of the slaughterhouse, and several decades since Peter Singer’s landmark Animal Liberation (1975) and Tom Regan’s The Case for Animal Rights (1983) posited the immorality of the mistreatment of animals in food production, it could be suggested that Al Gore’s film An Inconvenient Truth (released in 2006) added considerably to the recent concern regarding the ethics of industrial agriculture. Consciousness-raising bestselling books such as Jim Mason and Peter Singer’s The Ethics of What We Eat and Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma (both published in 2006), do indeed ‘close the loop’ in this way in their discussions, by concluding that intensive food production methods used since the 1950s are not only inhumane and damage public health, but are also damaging an environment under pressure from climate change. In comparison, the use of forced labour and human trafficking in food production has attracted far less mainstream media, celebrity or public attention. It could be posited that this is, in part, because no direct relationship to the environment and climate change and, therefore, direct link to our own existence in the West, has been popularised. Kevin Bales, who has been described as a modern abolitionist, estimates that there are currently more than 27 million people living in conditions of slavery and exploitation against their wills—twice as many as during the 350-year long trans-Atlantic slave trade. Bales also chillingly reveals that, worldwide, the number of slaves is increasing, with contemporary individuals so inexpensive to purchase in relation to the value of their production that they are disposable once the slaveholder has used them. Alongside sex slavery, many other prevalent examples of contemporary slavery are concerned with food production (Weissbrodt et al; Miers). Bales and Soodalter, for example, describe how across Asia and Africa, adults and children are enslaved to catch and process fish and shellfish for both human consumption and cat food. Other campaigners have similarly exposed how the cocoa in chocolate is largely produced by child slave labour on the Ivory Coast (Chalke; Off), and how considerable amounts of exported sugar, cereals and other crops are slave-produced in certain countries. In 2003, some 32 per cent of US shoppers identified themselves as LOHAS “lifestyles of health and sustainability” consumers, who were, they said, willing to spend more for products that reflected not only ecological, but also social justice responsibility (McLaughlin). Research also confirms that “the pursuit of social objectives … can in fact furnish an organization with the competitive resources to develop effective marketing strategies”, with Doherty and Meehan showing how “social and ethical credibility” are now viable bases of differentiation and competitive positioning in mainstream consumer markets (311, 303). In line with this recognition, Fair Trade Certified goods are now available in British, European, US and, to a lesser extent, Australian supermarkets, and a number of global chains including Dunkin’ Donuts, McDonalds, Starbucks and Virgin airlines utilise Fair Trade coffee and teas in all, or parts of, their operations. Fair Trade Certification indicates that farmers receive a higher than commodity price for their products, workers have the right to organise, men and women receive equal wages, and no child labour is utilised in the production process (McLaughlin). Yet, despite some Western consumers reporting such issues having an impact upon their purchasing decisions, social justice has not become a significant issue of concern for most. The popular cookery publications discussed above devote little space to Fair Trade product marketing, much of which is confined to supermarket-produced adverzines promoting the Fair Trade products they stock, and international celebrity chefs have yet to focus attention on this issue. In Australia, discussion of contemporary slavery in the press is sparse, having surfaced in 2000-2001, prompted by UNICEF campaigns against child labour, and in 2007 and 2008 with the visit of a series of high profile anti-slavery campaigners (including Bales) to the region. The public awareness of food produced by forced labour and the troubling issue of human enslavement in general is still far below the level that climate change and ecological issues have achieved thus far in driving foodway evolution. This may change, however, if a ‘Slow’-inflected connection can be made between Western lifestyles and the plight of peoples hidden from our daily existence, but contributing daily to them. Concluding Remarks At this time of accelerating techno-cultural evolution, due in part to the pressures of climate change, it is the creative potential that human conscious awareness brings to bear on these challenges that is most valuable. Today, as in the caves at Lascaux, humanity is evolving new images and narratives to provide rational solutions to emergent challenges. As an example of this, new foodways and ways of thinking about them are beginning to evolve in response to the perceived problems of climate change. The current conscious transformation of food habits by some in the West might be, therefore, in James Lovelock’s terms, a moment of “revolutionary punctuation” (178), whereby rapid cultural adaption is being induced by the growing public awareness of impending crisis. It remains to be seen whether other urgent human problems can be similarly and creatively embraced, and whether this trend can spread to offer global solutions to them. References An Inconvenient Truth. Dir. Davis Guggenheim. Lawrence Bender Productions, 2006. Bales, Kevin. Disposable People: New Slavery in the Global Economy. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004 (first published 1999). Bales, Kevin, and Ron Soodalter. The Slave Next Door: Human Trafficking and Slavery in America Today. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009. Carson, Rachel. Silent Spring. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1962. Chalke, Steve. “Unfinished Business: The Sinister Story behind Chocolate.” The Age 18 Sep. 2007: 11. Cunningham, Stuart, and Graeme Turner. The Media and Communications in Australia Today. Crows Nest: Allen & Unwin, 2002. Davey, Gwenda Beed. “Foodways.” The Oxford Companion to Australian Folklore. Ed. Gwenda Beed Davey, and Graham Seal. Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1993. 182–85. Doherty, Bob, and John Meehan. “Competing on Social Resources: The Case of the Day Chocolate Company in the UK Confectionery Sector.” Journal of Strategic Marketing 14.4 (2006): 299–313. Eshel, Gidon, and Pamela A. Martin. “Diet, Energy, and Global Warming.” Earth Interactions 10, paper 9 (2006): 1–17. Fowl Dinners. Exec. Prod. Nick Curwin and Zoe Collins. Dragonfly Film and Television Productions and Fresh One Productions, 2008. Freeman, Sarah. Mutton and Oysters: The Victorians and Their Food. London: Gollancz, 1989. Gould, S. J., and N. Eldredge. “Punctuated Equilibrium Comes of Age.” Nature 366 (1993): 223–27. (ICFFA) International Commission on the Future of Food and Agriculture. Manifesto on the Future of Food. Florence, Italy: Agenzia Regionale per lo Sviluppo e l’Innovazione nel Settore Agricolo Forestale and Regione Toscana, 2006. Jamie’s School Dinners. Dir. Guy Gilbert. Fresh One Productions, 2005. Jordan, Jennifer A. “The Heirloom Tomato as Cultural Object: Investigating Taste and Space.” Sociologia Ruralis 47.1 (2007): 20-41. Khan, Urmee. “Jamie Oliver’s School Dinners Improve Exam Results, Report Finds.” Telegraph 1 Feb. 2009. 24 Aug. 2009 < http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/educationnews/4423132/Jamie-Olivers-school-dinners-improve-exam-results-report-finds.html >. Kloppenberg, Jack, Jr, Sharon Lezberg, Kathryn de Master, G. W. Stevenson, and John Henrickson. ‘Tasting Food, Tasting Sustainability: Defining the Attributes of an Alternative Food System with Competent, Ordinary People.” Human Organisation 59.2 (Jul. 2000): 177–86. (LDP) Liverpool Daily Post. “Battery Farm Eggs Banned from Schools and Care Homes.” Liverpool Daily Post 12 Jan. 2008. 24 Aug. 2009 < http://www.liverpooldailypost.co.uk/liverpool-news/regional-news/2008/01/12/battery-farm-eggs-banned-from-schools-and-care-homes-64375-20342259 >. Lovelock, James. The Ages of Gaia: A Biography of Our Living Earth. New York: Bantam, 1990 (first published 1988). Mason, Jim, and Peter Singer. The Ethics of What We Eat. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 2006. McLaughlin, Katy. “Is Your Grocery List Politically Correct? Food World’s New Buzzword Is ‘Sustainable’ Products.” The Wall Street Journal 17 Feb. 2004. 29 Aug. 2009 < http://www.globalexchange.org/campaigns/fairtrade/coffee/1732.html >. McMichael, Anthony J, John W Powles, Colin D Butler, and Ricardo Uauy. “Food, Livestock Production, Energy, Climate Change, and Health.” The Lancet 370 (6 Oct. 2007): 1253–63. Miers, Suzanne. “Contemporary Slavery”. A Historical Guide to World Slavery. Ed. Seymour Drescher, and Stanley L. Engerman. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998. Mintz, Sidney W. Tasting Food, Tasting Freedom: Excursions into Eating, Culture, and the Past. Boston: Beacon Press, 1994. Nussel, Jill. “Heating Up the Sources: Using Community Cookbooks in Historical Inquiry.” History Compass 4/5 (2006): 956–61. Off, Carol. Bitter Chocolate: Investigating the Dark Side of the World's Most Seductive Sweet. St Lucia: U of Queensland P, 2008. Paxson, Heather. “Slow Food in a Fat Society: Satisfying Ethical Appetites.” Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture 5.1 (2005): 14–18. Pietrykowski, Bruce. “You Are What You Eat: The Social Economy of the Slow Food Movement.” Review of Social Economy 62:3 (2004): 307–21. Pollan, Michael. The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. New York: The Penguin Press, 2006. Regan, Tom. The Case for Animal Rights. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983. Scholz, Christopher A., Thomas C. Johnson, Andrew S. Cohen, John W. King, John A. Peck, Jonathan T. Overpeck, Michael R. Talbot, Erik T. Brown, Leonard Kalindekafe, Philip Y. O. Amoako, Robert P. Lyons, Timothy M. Shanahan, Isla S. Castañeda, Clifford W. Heil, Steven L. Forman, Lanny R. McHargue, Kristina R. Beuning, Jeanette Gomez, and James Pierson. “East African Megadroughts between 135 and 75 Thousand Years Ago and Bearing on Early-modern Human Origins.” PNAS: Proceedings of the National Academy of the Sciences of the United States of America 104.42 (16 Oct. 2007): 16416–21. Sinclair, Upton. The Jungle. New York: Doubleday, Jabber & Company, 1906. Singer, Peter. Animal Liberation. New York: HarperCollins, 1975. (SFFB) Slow Food Foundation for Biodiversity. “Ark of Taste.” 2009. 24 Aug. 2009 < http://www.fondazioneslowfood.it/eng/arca/lista.lasso >. (UNISG) University of Gastronomic Sciences. “Who We Are.” 2009. 24 Aug. 2009 < http://www.unisg.it/eng/chisiamo.php >. Vileisis, Ann. Kitchen Literacy: How We Lost Knowledge of Where Food Comes From and Why We Need to Get It Back. Washington: Island Press/Shearwater Books, 2008. Weissbrodt, David, and Anti-Slavery International. Abolishing Slavery and its Contemporary Forms. New York and Geneva: Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, United Nations, 2002. Zeder, Melinda A. “The Neolithic Macro-(R)evolution: Macroevolutionary Theory and the Study of Culture Change.” Journal of Archaeological Research 17 (2009): 1–63.