Beautiful, rare 'purple cauliflower' coral off NSW coast may be extinct within 10 years

When we think of Australia’s threatened corals, the Great Barrier Reef probably springs to mind. But elsewhere, coral species are also struggling – including a rare type known as “cauliflower soft coral” which is, sadly, on the brink of extinction.

This species, Dendronephthya australis, looks like a purple cauliflower due to its pink-lilac stems and branches, crowned with white polyps.

The coral primarily occurs at only a few sites in Port Stephens, New South Wales, and is a magnet for divers and underwater photographers. But sand movements, boating and fishing have reduced the species’ population dramatically.

Recent flooding in NSW compounded the problem – in fact, it may have reduced the remaining coral population by 90%. Our recent research found cauliflower soft coral may become extinct in the next decade unless we urgently protect and restore it.

Lilac Underwater Gardens

Cauliflower soft corals are predominantly found in estuarine environments on sandy seabeds with high current flow. They rely on tidal currents to transport plankton on which they feed.

The species is most commonly found in the Port Stephens estuary, about 200 kilometres north of Sydney. It’s also found in the Brisbane Water estuary in NSW, and has been found sporadically in other locations south to Jervis Bay.

The coral colonies form aggregations or “gardens”. At Port Stephens, these gardens are the preferred habitat for the endangered White’s seahorse and protected species of pipefish. They also support juvenile Australasian snapper, an important species for commercial and recreational fishers.

In recent months, the cauliflower soft coral has been listed as endangered in NSW and nationally.

Read more: Marine life is fleeing the equator to cooler waters. History tells us this could trigger a mass extinction event

An Alarming Decline

Scientists first mapped the distribution of the cauliflower soft coral in 2011. They found none of the biggest colonies in the Port Stephens estuary were protected by “no take” zones – areas where fishing and other extractive activities are banned.

In research in 2016, we found a sharp decline in the extent and distribution of cauliflower soft coral.

Our recent study examined the problem in more detail. It involved mapping the southern shoreline of Port Stephens, using an underwater camera towed by a vessel.

We found the cauliflower soft coral in the Port Stephens estuary has declined by almost 70% over just eight years. It now occurs over 9,300 square metres – down from 28,600 square metres in 2011.

Our subsequent modelling sought to identify what was driving the corals’ decline. We found a correlation between coral loss and sand movements over the last decade.

Human changes to shorelines, such as marina developments, have changed the dynamic of currents across the estuary. For example, previous research found a large influx of sand from the western end of Shoal Bay smothered cauliflower soft coral colonies at two nearby locations. As of 2018, those colonies had disappeared completely.

While diving as part of the project, we identified other causes of damage to the coral. Dropped boat anchors and the installation of moorings had damaged some colonies. Others were injured after becoming entangled in fishing line.

It is possible that disease, and pollution or other water quality issues, may also be contributing to the species’ decline.

Then The Floods Hit

Some 18 months after our most recent mapping, cauliflower soft corals suffered yet another blow. Major flooding in NSW in March this year caused a massive amount of fresh water to discharge from the Karuah River into the Port Stephens estuary, where sea water is dominant. Fresh water can kill cauliflower soft corals.

Following the floods, we conducted exploratory dives at locations where the cauliflower soft corals had been thriving at Port Stephens. We found much of the coral had disintegrated and disappeared. In fact, we estimated as much as 90% of the remaining cauliflower soft coral population was gone.

We plan to remap the estuary in the coming weeks, and feel confident our initial estimates will be close to the mark. If so, this means less than 5% of the species area mapped in 2011 now remains.

The floods also devastated kelp forests and other canopy-forming habitats in the estuary. Further work by scientists at the NSW Department of Primary Industries is underway to quantify these losses and monitor the recovery.

Read more: Sydney's disastrous flood wasn't unprecedented: we're about to enter a 50-year period of frequent, major floods

Urgent Work Required

The cauliflower soft coral urgently needs protecting. This will require ongoing, coordinated research and management.

Clearly, action must be taken to reduce threats such as anchoring, fishing, and development that may magnify sand movement.

Best-practice rehabilitation is also needed. This may involve rearing the coral off-site and transplanting it into suitable habitat. Such trials at Port Stephens have shown promising signs.

Human activities are causing species loss at an alarming rate. We must do everything in our power to prevent the extinction of the cauliflower soft coral, and other threatened species, to preserve the balance of nature and its ecosystems.

Read more: Australia's threatened species plan sends in the ambulances but ignores glaring dangers 

Meryl Larkin, PhD Candidate, Southern Cross University; David Harasti, Adjunct assistant professor, Southern Cross University; Steve Smith, Professor of Marine Science, National Marine Science Centre, Southern Cross University, and Tom R Davis, Research Scientist - Marine Climate Change

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Mouse plague: bromadiolone will obliterate mice, but it'll poison eagles, snakes and owls, too

It’s the smell that hits you first. The scent of urine and decomposing bodies. Then you notice other signs: scuttles and squeaks, small dead bodies leaking blood, tails sticking out of hubcaps.

If you’ve lived through a mouse plague, you’ve seen this, and smelled the stench of mice dying of poison baits.

As a desperate measure to help combat the mouse plague devastating rural communities across New South Wales, the state government yesterday secured 5,000 litres of bromadiolone. This is a bait that’s usually illegal to roll out at the proposed scale.

This is a bad idea. While bromadiolone effectively kills mice, it also travels up the food chain to poison predators who eat the mice, and other species. And these predators, from wedge-tailed eagles to goannas, are coming out in droves to feast on their abundant prey.

When Your Prey Is Everywhere

Animal plagues in Australia are fuelled by the “boom and bust” of rainfall.

We have natural, flood-driven population explosions of the native long-haired rat, with accompanying booms of letter-winged kites, their predator. We also have locust plagues when the conditions are right, leading to antechinus or mice plagues which eat the locusts.

Since at least the late 1800s, we’ve had terrible plagues of the introduced house mouse (Mus musculus). But rarely has it been this bad, with conditions currently seeming worse than the last plague in 2011, which caused over A$200 million in crop damage alone.

High numbers of birds of prey — nankeen kestrels, black-shouldered kites and barn owls — are often reported feasting on plague mice.

Snakes, goannas, native carnivores such as quolls, and feral cats and foxes, also take advantage of the abundant food. Pets, especially cats and some dogs, are highly likely to consume mice under these conditions, too.

Poisoning The Food Web

Laying out poison baits is one way people try to end mouse infestations and plagues. So-called “anticoagulant rodenticides” are divided into first and second generations, based on when they were first synthesised and the differences in potency.

Second generation anticoagulant rodenticides have higher toxicities than first generation, and are lethal after a single feed. First generation rodenticides, on the other hand, require rodents to feed on them for consecutive days to be lethal.

But mouse-eating predators are highly exposed to second generation rodenticides. For most animal species, the lethal doses of rodenticide aren’t yet known.

A scientific review from 2018 documented the poisoning of 31 bird, five mammal and one reptile species. Second generation aniticoaugulant rodenticides were implicated in the death of these animals.

Our research from 2020 found urban reptiles are highly exposed to second generation rodenticides, too. This includes mouse-eating snakes, called dugites, which had up to five different rodent poisons in them.

We also found poisons in frog-eating tiger snakes, and in omnivorous bobtail skinks which eat fruit, vegetation and snails. This is even more concerning because it shows how second generation rodenticides can saturate the entire foodweb, affecting everything from slugs to fish.

Bromadiolone Is Particularly Dangerous, Even To Humans

The NSW government secured bromadiolone baits as part of its $50 million mouse plague support package for regional communities.

Five thousand litres of the poison can treat around 95 tonnes of grain, and the government will provide it for free to primary producers once federal authorities approve its use.

Bromadiolone is usually restricted to use in and around buildings. But given the widespread impacts on wildlife, using bromadiolone at the proposed scale will do more harm than good.

Past research on bromadiolone has shown residues persist for up to 135 days in the carcasses of voles (another rodent species). In international studies, bromadiolone has been found in the livers of a host of birds of prey, including a range of owl species, red kites, sparrowhawks and golden eagles.

And it’s not just a problem for wildlife, humans are also at risk of exposure. For example, we can get exposed from eating eggs from chickens that feed on poisoned mice, or more directly from eating other animals that may have ingested poisoned mice.

A 2013 study looked at chicken eggs for human consumption, and detected bromadiolone in eggs between five and 14 days after the chicken ingested the poison. It’s not yet clear how many of these eggs we’d have to eat for us to get sick.

So What Are The Alternatives?

There are highly effective first generation rodenticides that provide viable solutions for managing mouse plagues. They may take a little longer to kill mice, but the upshot is they don’t stick around in the environment. A 2020 study found house mice in Perth didn’t have genetic resistance to first generation rodenticides, which suggests they’re effectively lethal.

Another approach has been to use zinc phosphide, a poison which is unlikely to secondarily poison other animals that eat the poisoned mice. However, zinc phosphide is still extremely toxic and will kill sheep, cows, pets and even humans if directly eaten.

Rolling out double-strength zinc phosphide may be the lesser of the evils in causing secondary poisoning, but only if used very carefully.

And another way to help control the mouse plague is to limit food resources for mice on farms. Farmers can minimise grain on ground, and Australia should invest in research for grain storage facilities that are less permeable to mice.

Mouse plagues are a regular cycle in Australia. Natural predators not only help create healthy, natural ecosystems, but also they help with mouse control. Second generation rodenticides will only destroy and weaken the predator populations we need to help us combat the next plague.

Robert Davis, Senior Lecturer in Wildlife Ecology, Edith Cowan University; Bill Bateman, Associate professor, Curtin University; Damian Lettoof, PhD Candidate, Curtin University; Maggie J. Watson, Lecturer in Ornithology, Ecology, Conservation and Parasitology, Charles Sturt University, and Michael Lohr, Adjunct Lecturer, Edith Cowan University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Hundreds of Australian lizard species are barely known to science. Many may face extinction

Most of the incredible diversity of life on Earth is yet to be discovered and documented. In some groups of organisms – terrestrial arthropods such as spiders and scorpions, marine invertebrates such as sponges and molluscs, and others – scientists have described fewer than 20% of species.

Even our knowledge of more familiar creatures such as fish and reptiles is far from complete. In our new research, we studied 1,034 known species of Australian lizards and snakes and found we know so little about 164 of them that not even the experts know whether they are fully described or not. Of the remaining 870, almost a third probably need some work to be described properly.

Documenting and naming what species are out there – the work of taxonomists – is crucial for conservation, but it can be difficult for researchers to decide where to focus their efforts. Alongside our lizard research, we have developed a new “return on investment” approach to identify priority species for our efforts.

We identified several hotspots across Australia where research is likely to be rewarded. More broadly, our approach can help target taxonomic research for conservation worldwide.

Why We Need To Look At Species More Closely

As more and more species are threatened by land clearing, climate change and other human activities, our research highlights that we are losing even more biodiversity than we know.

Conservation often relies on species-level assessments such as those conducted by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List, which lists threatened species. Although new species are being discovered all the time, a key problem is that already named “species” may harbour multiple undocumented and unnamed species. This hidden diversity remains invisible to conservation assessment.

One such example are the Grassland Earless Dragons (Tympanocryptis spp.) found in the temperate native grasslands of south-eastern Australia. These small secretive lizards were grouped within a single species (Tympanocryptis pinguicolla) and listed as Endangered on the IUCN Red List.

But recent taxonomic research split this single species into four, each occurring in an isolated region of grasslands. One of these new species may represent the first extinction of a reptile on mainland Australia and the other three have a high probability of being threatened.

Read more: Why we're not giving up the search for mainland Australia's 'first extinct lizard'

Scientists call documenting and describing species “taxonomy”. Our research shows the importance of prioritising taxonomy in the effort to conserve and protect species.

Taxonomists At Work

Many government agencies do take some account of groups smaller than species in their conservation efforts, such as distinct populations. But these are often ambiguously defined and lack formal recognition, so they are not widely used. That’s where taxonomists come in, to identify species and describe them fully.

Our new research was a collaboration of 30 taxonomists and systematists, who teamed up to find a good way of working out which species should be a priority for taxonomic research for conservation outcomes. This new approach compares the amount of work needed with the likelihood of finding previously unknown species that are at risk of extinction.

The research team, who are experts on the taxonomy and systematics of Australia’s reptiles, implemented this new approach on Australian lizards and snakes. This group of reptiles is ideal as a test case because Australia is a global hotspot of lizard diversity – and we also have a strong community of taxonomic experts.

Australia’s Lizards And Snakes

Of the 1,034 Australian lizard and snake species, we were able to assess whether 870 of them may contain undescribed species. This means we know so little about the remaining 164 species that even the experts could not make an informed opinion on whether they contain hidden diversity. There is so much still to learn!

Of the 870 species experts could assess, they determined 282 probably or definitely needed more taxonomic research. Mapping the distributions of these species indicated hotspot regions for this taxonomic research, including the Kimberley, the Tanami Desert region, western Victoria and offshore islands (such as Tasmania, Lord Howe and Norfolk Islands). Some areas in the Kimberley region had more than 60 species that need further taxonomic research.

We found 17.6% of the 282 species that need more taxonomic research contained undescribed species that would probably be of conservation concern, and 24 had a high probability of being threatened with extinction. Taxonomists know that there are undescribed species because there is some data available already but the description of these species – the process of defining and naming – has not been done.

These high-priority species belong to a range of families including geckos, skinks and dragons found across Australia.

The high number of undescribed species, especially those with significant likelihood of being endangered, was a shock to even the experts. The IUCN currently estimates only 6.3% of Australian lizards and snakes require taxonomic revision, but this is obviously a significant underestimate.

A Race Against Extinction

Beyond lizards, there is a huge backlog of species awaiting description.

Recent projects have used genetic analyses to discover unknown species, including a $180 million global BIOSCAN effort aiming to identify millions of new species. However, genetics is only a first step in the formal recognition of species.

Read more: About 500,000 Australian species are undiscovered – and scientists are on a 25-year mission to finish the job

The taxonomic process of documenting, describing and naming species requires multiple further steps. These steps include a comprehensive diagnostic assessment using a combination of evidence, such as genetics and morphology, to uniquely distinguish each species from another. This process requires a high level of familiarity and scholarship of the group in question.

Among the Australian lizards and snakes alone, there is a backlog of 59 undescribed species for which only the final elements of taxonomic research are awaiting completion.

To work through these taxonomic backlogs – let alone species that are so far entirely unknown – resources need to be invested in taxonomy, including research funding and increased provision of viable career paths.

Without taxonomic research, the conservation assessment of these undocumented species will not proceed. There are untold numbers of species needing taxonomic research that are already under threat of extinction. If we don’t hurry, they may go extinct before we even know they exist.

Jane Melville, Senior Curator, Terrestrial Vertebrates, Museums Victoria and Reid Tingley, Lecturer, Monash University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

About 500,000 Australian species are undiscovered – and scientists are on a 25-year mission to finish the job

Here are two quiz questions for you. How many species of animals, plants, fungi, fish, insects and other organisms live in Australia? And how many of these have been discovered and named?

To the first, the answer is we don’t really know. But the best guess of taxonomists – the scientists who discover, name, classify and document species – is that Australia’s lands, rivers, coasts and oceans probably house more than 700,000 distinct species.

On the second, taxonomists estimate almost 200,000 species have been scientifically named since Europeans first began exploring, collecting and classifying Australia’s remarkable fauna and flora.

Together, these estimates are disturbing. After more than 300 years of effort, scientists have documented fewer than one-third of Australia’s species. The remaining 70% are unknown, and essentially invisible, to science.

Taxonomists in Australia name an average 1,000 new species each year. At that rate, it will take at least 400 years to complete even a first-pass stocktake of Australia’s biodiversity.

This poor knowledge is a serious threat to Australia’s environment. And a first-of-its kind report released today shows it’s also a huge missed economic opportunity. That’s why today, Australia’s taxonomists are calling on governments, industry and the community to support an important mission: discovering and documenting all Australian species within 25 years.

Australia: A Biodiversity Hotspot

Biologically, Australia is one of the richest and most diverse nations on Earth – between 7% and 10% of all species on Earth occur here. It also has among the world’s highest rates of species discovery. But our understanding of biodiversity is still very, very incomplete.

Of course, First Nations peoples discovered, named and classified many species within their knowledge systems long before Europeans arrived. But we have no ready way yet to compare their knowledge with Western taxonomy.

Finding new species in Australia is not hard - there are almost certainly unnamed species of insects, spiders, mites and fungi in your backyard. Any time you take a bush holiday you’ll drive past hundreds of undiscovered species. The problem is recognising the species as new and finding the time and resources to deal with them all.

Taxonomists describe and name new species only after very careful due diligence. Every specimen must be compared with all known named species and with close relatives to ensure it is truly a new species. This often involves detailed microscopic studies and gene sequencing.

More fieldwork is often needed to collect specimens and study other species. Specimens in museums and herbaria all over the world sometimes need to be checked. After a great deal of work, new species are described in scientific papers for others to assess and review.

So why do so many species remain undiscovered? One reason is a shortage of taxonomists trained to the level needed. Another is that technologies to substantially speed up the task have only been developed in the past decade or so. And both these, of course, need appropriate levels of funding.

Of course, some groups of organisms are better known than others. In general, noticeable species – mammals, birds, plants, butterflies and the like – are fairly well documented. Most less noticeable groups - many insects, fungi, mites, spiders and marine invertebrates - remain poorly known. But even inconspicuous species are important.

Fungi, for example, are essential for maintaining our natural ecosystems and agriculture. They fertilise soils, control pests, break down litter and recycle nutrients. Without fungi, the world would literally grind to a halt. Yet, more than 90% of Australian fungi are believed to be unknown.

Read more: How we discovered a hidden world of fungi inside the world’s biggest seed bank

Mind The Knowledge Gap

So why does all this matter?

First, Australia’s biodiversity is under severe and increasing threat. To manage and conserve our living organisms, we must first discover and name them.

At present, it’s likely many undocumented species are becoming extinct, invisibly, before we know they exist. Or, perhaps worse, they will be discovered and named from dead specimens in our museums long after they have gone extinct in nature.

Second, many undiscovered species are crucial in maintaining a sustainable environment for us all. Others may emerge as pests and threats in future; most species are rarely noticed until something goes wrong. Knowing so little about them is a huge risk.

Third, enormous benefits are to be gained from these invisible species, once they are known and documented. A report released today by Deloitte Access Economics, commissioned by Taxonomy Australia, estimates a benefit to the national economy of between A$3.7 billion and A$28.9 billion if all remaining Australian species are documented.

Benefits will be greatest in biosecurity, medicine, conservation and agriculture. The report found every $1 invested in discovering all remaining Australian species will bring up to $35 of economic benefits. Such a cost-benefit analysis has never before been conducted in Australia.

The investment would cover, among other things, research infrastructure, an expanded grants program, a national effort to collect specimens of all species and new facilities for gene sequencing.

Read more: A few months ago, science gave this rare lizard a name – and it may already be headed for extinction

Mission Possible

Australian taxonomists – in museums, herbaria, universities, at the CSIRO and in government departments – have spent the last few years planning an ambitious mission to discover and document all remaining Australian species within a generation.

So, is this ambitious goal achievable, or even imaginable? Fortunately, yes.

It will involve deploying new and emerging technologies, including high-throughput robotic DNA sequencing, artificial intelligence and supercomputing. This will vastly speed up the process from collecting specimens to naming new species, while ensuring rigour and care in the science.

A national meeting of Australian taxonomists, including the young early career researchers needed to carry the mission through, was held last year. The meeting confirmed that with the right technologies and more keen and bright minds trained for the task, the rate of species discovery in Australia could be sped up by the necessary 16-fold – reducing 400 years of effort to 25 years.

With the right people, technologies and investment, we could discover all Australian species. By 2050 Australia could be the world’s first biologically mega-rich nation to have documented all our species, for the direct benefit of this and future generations.

Read more: Hundreds of Australian lizard species are barely known to science. Many may face extinction 

Kevin Thiele, Adjunct Assoc. Professor, The University of Western Australia and Jane Melville, Senior Curator, Terrestrial Vertebrates, Museums Victoria

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

'Green steel' is hailed as the next big thing in Australian industry. Here's what the hype is all about

Steel is a major building block of our modern world, used to make everything from cutlery to bridges and wind turbines. But the way it’s made – using coal – is making climate change worse.

On average, almost two tonnes of carbon dioxide (CO₂) are emitted for every tonne of steel produced. This accounts for about 7% of global greenhouse gas emissions. Cleaning up steel production is clearly key to Earth’s low-carbon future.

Fortunately, a new path is emerging. So-called “green steel”, made using hydrogen rather than coal, represents a huge opportunity for Australia. It would boost our exports, help offset inevitable job losses in the fossil fuel industry and go a long way to tackling climate change.

Australia’s abundant and cheap wind and solar resources mean we’re well placed to produce the hydrogen a green steel industry needs. So let’s take a look at how green steel is made, and the challenges ahead.

Steeling For Change

Steel-making requires stripping oxygen from iron ore to produce pure iron metal. In traditional steel-making, this is done using coal or natural gas in a process that releases CO₂. In green steel production, hydrogen made from renewable energy replaces fossil fuels.

Australia exports almost 900 million tonnes of iron ore each year, but only makes 5.5 million tonnes of steel. This means we have great capacity to ramp up steel production.

A Grattan Institute report last year found if Australia captured about 6.5% of the global steel market, this could generate about A$65 billion in annual export revenue and create 25,000 manufacturing jobs in Queensland and New South Wales.

Steel-making is a complex process and is primarily achieved via one of three processes. Each of them, in theory, can be adapted to produce green steel. We examine each process below.

Read more: Australia could fall apart under climate change. But there's a way to avoid it

1. Blast Furnace

Globally, about 70% of steel is produced using the blast furnace method.

As part of this process, processed coal (also known as coke) is used in the main body of the furnace. It acts as a physical support structure for materials entering and leaving the furnace, among other functions. It’s also partially burnt at the bottom of the furnace to both produce heat and make carbon monoxide, which strips oxygen from iron ore leaving metallic iron.

This coal-driven process leads to CO₂ emissions. It’s feasible to replace a portion of the carbon monoxide with hydrogen. The hydrogen can strip oxygen away from the ore, generating water instead of CO₂. This requires renewable electricity to produce green hydrogen.

And hydrogen cannot replace carbon monoxide at a ratio of 1:1. If hydrogen is used, the blast furnace needs more externally added heat to keep the temperature high, compared with the coal method.

More importantly, solid coal in the main body of the furnace cannot be replaced with hydrogen. Some alternatives have been developed, involving biomass – a fuel developed from living organisms – blended with coal.

But sourcing biomass sustainably and at scale would be a challenge. And this process would still likely create some fossil-fuel derived emissions. So to ensure the process is “green”, these emissions would have to be captured and stored – a technology which is currently expensive and unproven at scale.

Read more: Australians want industry, and they'd like it green. Steel is the place to start

2. Recycled Steel

Around 30% of the world’s steel is made from recycled steel. Steel has one of the highest recycling rates of any material.

Steel recycling is mainly done in arc furnaces, driven by electricity. Each tonne of steel produced using this method produces about 0.4 tonnes of CO₂ – mostly due to emissions produced by burning fossil fuels for electricity generation. If the electricity was produced from renewable sources, the CO₂ output would be greatly reduced.

But steel cannot continuously be recycled. After a while, unwanted elements such as copper, nickel and tin begin to accumulate in the steel, reducing its quality. Also, steel has a long lifetime and low turnover rate. This means recycled steel cannot meet all steel demand, and some new steel must be produced.

3. Direct Reduced Iron

“Direct reduced iron” (DRI) technology often uses methane gas to produce hydrogen and carbon monoxide, which are then used to turn iron ore into iron. This method still creates CO₂ emissions, and requires more electricity than the blast furnace method. However its overall emission intensity can be substantially lower.

The method currently accounts for less than 5% of production, and offers the greatest opportunity for using green hydrogen.

Up to 70% of the hydrogen derived from methane could be replaced with green hydrogen without having to modify the production process too much. However work on using 100% green hydrogen in this method is ongoing.

Read more: For hydrogen to be truly 'clean' it must be made with renewables, not coal

Becoming A Green Steel Superpower

The green steel transition won’t happen overnight and significant challenges remain.

Cheap, large-scale green hydrogen and renewable electricity will be required. And even if green hydrogen is used, to achieve net-zero emissions the blast furnace method will still require carbon-capture and storage technologies – and so too will DRI, for the time being.

Private sector investment is needed to create a global-scale export industry. Australian governments also have a big role to play, in building skills and capability, helping workers retrain, funding research and coordinating land-use planning.

Revolutionising Australia’s steel industry is a daunting task. But if we play our cards right, Australia can be a major player in the green manufacturing revolution.

Jessica Allen, Senior Lecturer and DECRA Fellow, University of Newcastle and Tom Honeyands, Director, Centre for Ironmaking Materials Research, University of Newcastle

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Peter Wegner’s portrait of Guy Warren at 100 wins the 100th Archibald Prize

The artist Guy Warren gave the best summary of this year’s centenary Archibald Prize, telling the crowd assembled for the official announcement: “It’s a lot of fun”.

Appropriately, as well as praising Peter Wegner, whose portrait of the centenarian won this year’s Archibald Prize, Warren congratulated the many artists whose works hang alongside his likeness.

Warren is an Archibald realist. He knows the almost random nature of the first cull where the Trustees decide which works have a chance to be considered for hanging, while the great majority go directly to the stacks of rejects.

In 1985 both Warren and his good friend, the artist Bert Flugelman, entered portraits of each other. Portraiture was a departure in style for both men. Although he had worked for some years as a graphic artist, Warren was best known for both experimental work and fluid semi-abstract landscapes. Flugelman had an established reputation as a sculptor.

Flugelman’s portrait of Warren was not hung. Guy Warren’s portrait, Flugelman with Wingman won the prize. With this year’s prize, Warren therefore has the rare distinction of both winning the prize and being the subject of a winning painting.

Read more: 'I think Archie would be pleased': 100 years of our most famous portrait prize and my almost 50 years watching it evolve

More Works By Women, But A Male Winner

Our public institutions are keenly aware of gender equity in 2021. Art Gallery of NSW director Michael Brand was at pains to tell the assembled throng of journalists, photographers, film crew, artists and actors (including Rachel Griffiths in prime position to film both the crowd and the podium for her forthcoming documentary) that more works by women than men had been hung this year.

Jude Rae and Pat Hoffie were highly commended by judges. But the tradition of giving the big prize to a portrait of a man, by a man, prevailed.

And it’s not a bad painting. The artist-subject is shown sitting on a chair, with his arms awkwardly placed, staring into the distance. He looks somewhat frail. Because of the echoes of history, it will be both a popular choice and a reminder that, at its core, the Archibald is a prize for social history, not art.

Read more: From Grace Tame to Craig Foster: distinguished public figures but only one politician in a telling 2021 Archibald shortlist

Artistic Peers And Stars

The other prizes announced at the same time reflect both old traditions and the new.

It was not a surprise that Georgia Spain, whose Getting down or falling up was awarded the Sulman Prize. Guest judge Elisabeth Cummings, was one of her favourite artists, the winner told the crowd. Indeed, there are strong echoes of Cummings’ painterly approach in Spain’s work.

The Sulman, unlike the other prizes, is judged by a different artist each year. Those considering entering the prize should always look at the judge’s art before entering their own.

In recent years the Wynne Prize has been dominated by work by Aboriginal artists from either central or northern Australia, and this year is no exception. Yolŋu artist Nyapanyapa Yunupiŋu’s Garak Night Sky, is muted in tone, but stunningly beautiful.

It is a retelling of one of the great narratives of Aboriginal Australia — the Seven Sisters, the constellation also referred to in non-Indigenous cultures as Pleiades.

The story of the Seven Sisters is repeated in Tjungkara Ken’s painting, which was awarded the Roberts Family Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Prize this year. Just as European artists can paint infinite variations on the theme of the Nativity, so the Seven Sisters remain an ever fertile subject for Indigenous artists.

The Colour Of Water

Noel McKenna’s sweet little South Coast headland (2), Ottoman rose was awarded the Trustees Watercolour Prize, a subset of the Wynne Prize.

Leah Bullen’s Arid garden, Wollongong was awarded the Pring Prize for a watercolour by a woman. In times past so few women entered (or were hung) in the Wynne that this prize was sometimes not awarded. This year the competition was stronger.

Read more: Why weren't there any great women artists? In gratitude to Linda Nochlin

Now that the judges have spoken, it is time for the people to have their say. For the last 33 years the gallery has awarded the ANZ People’s Choice award, with votes cast by visitors to the exhibition. Occasionally, but rarely, the people agree with the judges.

All finalists in the Archibald, Wynne and Sulman Prizes 2021 will be exhibited at the Art Gallery of NSW from 5 June to 26 September 2021, then tour regionally.

Joanna Mendelssohn, Principal Fellow (Hon), Victorian College of the Arts, University of Melbourne. Editor in Chief, Design and Art of Australia Online, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Photos from the field: the stunning crystals revealing deep secrets about Australian volcanoes

Environmental scientists see flora, fauna and phenomena the rest of us rarely do. In this series, we’ve invited them to share their unique photos from the field.

Volcanic activity is a constant global threat. It’s estimated over 1 billion people live within the potential, direct impact range of volcanic eruptions.

Just recently, lava flows from the eruption of Mount Nyiragongo, a volcano in the Democratic Republic of Congo, killed 32 people, with many more missing. Tens of thousands of people have been forced to flee the city of Goma.

This shows why understanding more about the inner workings of volcanoes is critical to improve the safety of those living in their shadows.

As a volcano scientist, my research takes me across Australia and all over the world. But sometimes, the most stunning revelations actually occur in the lab.

I take a microscopic look at volcanic rocks and fragments of the Earth’s mantle to estimate just how fast molten rock (magma) moves from deep in the Earth to the surface. This can help us prepare for future eruptions.

Australia’s Fiery Past — And Future

Since the demise of the dinosaurs to recent human settlement, magmatic activity has left behind a trail of volcanoes stretching over 4,000 kilometres down Australia’s eastern margin, forming one of the world’s most extensive volcanic belts.

Read more: Australia's volcanic history is a lot more recent than you think

The last mainland eruptions took place at Mount Gambier and Mount Schank in South Australia around 5,000 years ago, a mere blink of a geological eye.

These eruptions were witnessed by local Aboriginal people and incorporated into oral traditions that have been passed down for hundreds of generations.

Based on the time since the last eruption, there are potentially two active volcanic regions in mainland Australia: in the northeast (southwest of Cairns) and southeast (from Melbourne across into South Australia).

The Mount Gambier and Mount Schank volcanoes are two of more than 400 volcanoes in the active southeast region called the Newer Volcanics Province, which has been active for at least the last 4.5 million years.

It’s considered likely there’ll be a future eruption in this province, but it’s not known when or where exactly the eruption will be.

So How Much Warning Time Might We Have?

To answer this question, we have to unravel the secrets held by past eruptions, now locked away in the erupted rocks and the crystals within them.

Our first clue is that many of the dark black volcanic rocks that erupted in the Newer Volcanics Province (and others) contain chunks of green rock, called peridotite.

These dense green rock fragments are, in fact, pieces of the Earth’s upper mantle that were plucked out by the rising magma and carried all the way to the surface from depths of greater than 30 or 40 kilometres below our feet.

These fragments can sink back down through the liquid rock during its ascent, like a pebble dropped into a cylinder of honey. So in order to reach the surface, the rising magma had to move fast — likely taking just a few days from the source.

Volcanic Crystal Balls

In the same way tree rings can tell you about what the climate was like when the tree grew, the crystals within volcanic rocks and the mantle fragments they carry preserve memories of the environment on their upward journey through the Earth.

In the photo below, you can see how cross-polarised light passing through the mantle rock reveals a mosaic of colourful crystals. The darker part is the enclosing volcanic rock.

This thin slice of rock is just 30 microns in thickness, about half the thickness of a typical human hair.

Now let’s take a look through a scanning electron microscope at the border where the mantle crystals make contact with the now-solidified magma.

In the two photos below, you can see the rim of the crystals has become lighter in colour, which means it changed its chemical composition. This is so it could adapt to its new magma environment on ascent in a process called diffusion.

We use the sharpness of this chemical boundary to estimate how long mantle fragments sat in the magma before the rock erupted.

In other words, the minimum time magma took to travel from source to surface — an eruption warning time.

Read more: Curious Kids: Why do volcanoes erupt?

I can also use the chemistry and shapes of crystals that grew within the magma itself to map out the plumbing system beneath the volcano — the route magma takes to the surface.

The photos below show some of the different shapes crystals can form as the magma rises to the surface, cooling along the way. The spiky and skeleton-shaped crystals grow when the rising magma cools fast and by a large degree.

And we’re finding so far that individual volcanoes in the Newer Volcanics Province can take strikingly different pathways to the surface. This could result in varying eruption warning times.

Australia Isn’t Prepared

With likely maximum warning times of some past eruptions in Australia on the order of days, it’s worth considering how prepared we are for future eruptions — and not just from within Australia. If the global pandemic has taught us anything, it’s to expect the unexpected.

Large volcanic events are far from recent human memory, but in the Asia-Pacific region, they occur with a frequency of around every 400 years.

The federal government’s recent announcement of A$600 million towards establishing a new National Recovery and Resilience Agency will help Australia adapt to some climate change-associated hazards. But volcanic events appear to be excluded.

Preparing for the next potentially cataclysmic volcanic event in Australia’s neighbouring Ring of Fire should be part of Australia’s risk and resilience conversation.

Read more: The government has pledged over $800m to fight natural disasters. It could be revolutionary — if done right 

Heather Handley, Honorary Associate Professor in Volcanology and Geochemistry, Macquarie University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

'I didn't have a superhero that looked like me': Marvel's new female, culturally diverse and queer protagonists mirror our times

Last week, the trailer dropped for what will be the 26th movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe franchise: Eternals, directed by Chloé Zhao. Opening with a dreamy, misty shoreline, we hear Skeeter Davis’s The End of the World. An ominous spaceship appears over the ocean, and the Eternals begin to prepare for the impending battle.

This year, Zhao was only the second woman (and first woman of colour) to win Best Director at the Academy Awards: a reminder of Hollywood’s entrenched gender and race biases. The cinematic world of Marvel, which began with Iron Man in 2008, has been similarly male and white.

Of the 23 Marvel films released so far, just one has been directed by a woman (Anna Boden, who co-directed Captain Marvel with Ryan Fleck) and two by people of colour (Ryan Coogler for Black Panther, and Taika Waititi for Thor: Ragnarok).

But things are changing.

In July, Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) — one of the original Avengers — will finally get her own film in Black Widow, directed by Australian Cate Shortland.

In September, Destin Daniel Cretton’s Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings will showcase a predominantly Asian cast, where superhero Shang-Chi (Simu Liu in the character’s film debut) encounters the terrorist group Ten Rings.

Read more: Oscar winners: how the pandemic led to a record-breaking year of diversity

Zhao’s Eternals, to be released in November, will see an immortal alien race forced out of hiding after thousands of years in a quest to save humanity. Starring a multicultural, ensemble cast including Gemma Chan, Salma Hayek and Angelina Jolie, Eternals will feature Marvel’s first openly queer superhero — Phastos (Brian Tyree Henry) — and deaf superhero — Makkari (Lauren Ridloff).

Asian American Cretton has said:

Growing up, I didn’t have a superhero that looked like me and it’s really exciting to give a new generation something I did not have.

Owned by Disney, Marvel Studios is an entertainment giant, which has grossed over US$22.5 billion (A$29 billion) at the global box office. Its investment in more diverse stories, characters and directors is clever marketing. But it is also an indication of the dynamic relationship between one of the world’s biggest film franchises and its fan base, and how they both sit within the broader culture.

Marvel, like all film studios, has found itself creating popular culture during a period of great social and political upheaval. Global movements such as #MeToo, #BlackLivesMatter and #StopAsianHate have been a clarion call for social justice.

These movements have exposed and challenged discrimination and violence against marginalised groups, including exclusion from representation on screen and behind the scenes.

Pressure from #MeToo activists has seen Hollywood hire more female filmmakers since 2018. In the wake of #BlackLivesMatter’s growth in 2014 came #OscarsSoWhite in 2015, a movement which led to a remarkable change in the diversity of filmmakers — and the recognition they received.

Knowing Their Audience

2018’s Black Panther broke new ground with its all Black lead cast and Coogler as the franchise’s first African American director. Making US$1.34 billion (A$1.72 billion) at the box office, it is the second highest grossing Marvel film in the US.

Read more: How I marvelled at Black Panther’s reimagining of Africa

2019’s Captain Marvel, the franchise’s first standalone female superhero film, with its first female director, made US$1.13 billion (A$1.45 billion) at the box office.

This year we had a Black Captain America for the first time in the Disney+ spin-off series The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Directed by Kari Skogland, the series was the streaming service’s most watched premiere ever.

This casting, and the story the series told about race, resonated with viewers who were frustrated and angry at the criminalisation and disempowerment of Black men playing out time and again in the news media.

This is not to suggest Marvel is radically undoing the biases of society and the film industry, smashing stereotypes shored up by centuries of patriarchal or colonial domination. That would be an insurmountable challenge even for the Avengers.

Rather, Marvel’s increasingly liberal steps stem from an understanding of the power of the people. The franchise’s continued success depends on remaining culturally relevant and, crucially, not underestimating what its audiences want — and who its audiences are.

Familiar tropes of Asian-ness will appear in Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (Shang-Chi’s powers are, of course, martial arts skills). But by handing over the keys to Cretton and his culturally diverse creative team, we can expect Marvel’s first standalone Asian superhero film to be a nuanced, multifaceted depiction of Asian cultures and identities not seen before in the genre.

As an immigrant female director and Marvel enthusiast, Zhao perhaps epitomises the future — and logical endpoint — of Marvel’s quest for inclusion and diversity.

“I’m not just making [Eternals] as a director,” she said. “I’m making the film as a fan.”

Christina Lee, Senior Lecturer in Literary and Cultural Studies, Curtin University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Denim jeans have long been political: now skinny jeans are in the firing line

Last week, reports emerged that North Korea was banning skinny jeans over concerns regarding their symbolic relationship with the “exotic and decadent lifestyle” of capitalism. The crackdown on “anti-socialist behaviour” also reportedly bans mullet, spiky or dyed hairstyles and piercings.

Although an official statement on the ban hasn’t been identified, policing of personal style in North Korea is not new.

Political leaders have long been aware of the representational power of fashion. In her book Fashion and Politics, fashion scholar Djurdja Bartlett notes that “as early as the 1920s, the Bolsheviks frowned on western fashion and its Art Deco opulence”.

The role of dress in promoting allegiance to the nation state can come in the form of a uniform or via the rejection of garments seen to symbolise religious, ideological or political beliefs.

Whether banning Western fashion in the Soviet Union or the burqa in France, political control over what we wear has always been controversial. But what is it about skinny jeans that apparently inspires denunciation by North Korea today?

The Skinny On Skinny Jeans

Slim or tight-fitted trousers are a direct descendant of tight men’s breeches worn in the 1800s.

Their denim offspring emerged in the 1950s as part of the counter-cultural movement. Most often worn in a dark wash with a cuffed hem, the jeans, favoured by the likes of Elvis Presley and Marlon Brando, were a gender-neutral representation of alternative lifestyles in the wake of the second world war.

In the 1960s, jeans in the “drainpipe” style — black and ultra-skinny — became synonymous with rock and roll.

Through the 1970s and 80s, the UK embraced the punk look – pioneered by designer Vivienne Westwood and the Sex Pistols, which saw tight jeans ripped, stained and safety pinned.

The 1990s brought baggy styles for rave dancing, bootlegs and retro flares. But skinny jeans didn’t stay gone for long. The 2000s saw them taken up, again by subcultures — emos and goths, who wore them super tight and low on the hips.

By the 2010s they seemed destined to stick around after being championed by Kate Moss, the Duchess of Cambridge and Michelle Obama.

Death By TikTok

Rumblings of change in the denim market were first heard in the late 2010s, when fashion journalists including Sarah Spellings claimed we could begin counting down to the return of low-rise jeans. The rise of 90s nostalgia fashion, popularised by models such as Bella Hadid, bought a return of wide-legged fits and exposed midriffs.

By 2019, skinny jeans were reportedly being usurped by so-called “mom jeans”. And that was before 2020 forced everyone indoors, where comfort trumped more fitted styles.

Gen Z “Zoomer” TikTokers finally rang the death knell for skinny jeans — adding a beat and some dance moves, of course. In early 2021, TikTok videos mocking Millennials for their side parted hair and tight denim-clad legs went viral.

So, if they’re no longer cool, why might North Korea want to ban them?

Read more: Dressed for success – as workers return to the office, men might finally shed their suits and ties

Trouser Power

What we wear on our legs has long been a subject of particular political significance, especially in terms of class and gender differentiation.

During the French Revolution, full length trousers became synonymous with the ideals of liberté, égalité, fraternité — but only for men. Women remained bound by the Ancien Régime, excluded from wearing trousers and from the social freedoms they allowed.

It followed that in the fight for suffrage, trousers became a symbolic garment in the emancipation of women as political subjects.

In the 1960s, meanwhile, blue denim became a symbol of the US civil rights movement and in 1978, Levi Strauss & Co began large-scale shipments of jeans behind the Iron Curtain.

Analysis today shows specific denim brands are aligned with political preferences: American Democrat voters tend to wear Levis, while Republican voters are more likely to prefer Wrangler jeans. Brands may also seek to align themselves with consumers by voicing support for specific issues.

Most recently, a chief minister within India’s Bharatiya Janata Party government faced condemnation after he tweeted that women were immoral for wearing jeans that exposed their knees.

Across India women took to social media to voice their exasperation, posting photographs of themselves wearing torn denim with the hashtag #RippedJeans.

Read more: How women in India reclaimed the protest power of ripped jeans

Jeans are still provoking the powerful. Still, if the reports from North Korea are correct, railing against this symbolic garment may have given those willing to rebel a clearer sense of what to wear.

Harriette Richards, Research Associate, Cultural Studies, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

If you're planning to hike this winter, invest in the right gear. Being unprepared for Australia’s harsh terrain can be deadly

Two years ago, emergency workers rescued a hiker in Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park. He had spent nine days in his tent in freezing weather with dangerous blizzards, trying to keep dry from infiltrating snow and rain.

Because he was an experienced and prepared hiker, he had the skills and gear needed to keep himself safe and relatively warm until rescuers could find him. His preparedness ultimately led to his survival.

Such experiences, however, don’t always have happy endings.

Of the hikers, trekkers and bushwalkers who need rescuing from Australia’s harsh wilderness each year, a small proportion never make it back alive. And as we head into winter, the likelihood of accidents increases, especially in places like Tasmania.

Our recent research on hikers in Tasmania shows just how important preparedness is to prevent injuries and deaths. So let’s look at what it means to be prepared for a hike and who’s most at risk.

Slips, Drops, Hypothermia

Tasmania is quickly becoming known worldwide as a hiking destination, with Cradle Mountain National Park the crown jewel, from short two-hour walks to the multi-day Overland track.

In 2017-18, an estimated 280,000 people visited Cradle Mountain, and 9,000 hikers completed the Overland track between October and May.

But in winter, Tasmania’s weather conditions can change rapidly, particularly in alpine areas that draw people in with the promise of snow-capped mountains. One hour it can be clear and sunny. The next, bad weather can worsen into a blizzard.

The island’s sometimes severe weather means risks are amplified. These can include getting lost, running out of food or water while sheltering, and having an accident such as falling from steep and slippery terrain.

Read more: Photos from the field: capturing the grandeur and heartbreak of Tasmania's giant trees

Across Tasmania, bushwalker rescues fluctuate substantially by year, from lows of six (2018) to highs of 44 (2019).

Of the recent hiker deaths in Tasmania, some have been due to falls from great heights, while others are attributed to a lack of preparation and appropriate gear causing hypothermia.

For park management agencies, rescuing injured hikers or recovering the deceased can be dangerous and expensive. Estimated rescue costs range from a few hundred dollars to tens of thousands of dollars per incident.

At times, bad weather conditions means rescue agencies can’t access sites. They have to make the challenging decision not to respond to rescue calls, to protect the lives of volunteers and rescue staff.

What Is Preparedness And Why Does It Matter?

Preparedness is about providing yourself with the necessary resources to safely tackle unexpected issues that may arise.

How prepared you are can be the difference between severe injury or death, and survival. We define preparedness as the process of:

• packing essential clothing and equipment

• conducting pre-planning and familiarisation with a destination (what are the weather conditions, or trail conditions like?)

• self-assessment of capabilities (what’s your fitness level, and what are your wilderness knowledge and skills like?)

• notifying others about your travel intentions.

Some Hikers Are Better Prepared Than Others

Our research surveyed overnight hikers in Tasmania. And we found a lack of preparedness is related to people’s backgrounds (such as age and sex) and behavioural traits (such as risk taking).

Young men, for example, appear more likely to take risks, overestimating their skills and experience. Some tourist groups, who are unfamiliar with local weather conditions and landscapes, are also at higher risk.

In many accidents, inadequate clothing or footwear is a culprit, such as lack of woollen base layers, hats and gloves, and waterproof outer layers. This can result in hypothermia, frostbite, falls and other major problems.

Read more: We accidentally found a whole new genus of Australian daisies. You've probably seen them on your bushwalks

We were surprised by what many hikers didn’t carry, including maps, compasses, whistles, and first aid kits — essential items for all hikers. Some told us they didn’t own that equipment, others thought it was unnecessary.

People in a tour group were less likely to carry food, a first aid kit and safety items, believing their guide would carry it for them. But if group members become separated, the consequences can be fatal.

Our research also suggests hikers out for day trips or shorter walks, appear to feel there’s less risk and seem less prepared than if they were doing a longer trip.

They’re unlikely to take an emergency position indicating radio beacon (EPIRB) or personal locator beacon (PLB), which can send a distress signal and alert rescuers to your location in places with no phone reception. They may also wear sport shoes instead of hiking boots, and some don’t carry essential items for winter walking, such as a waterproof jacket or tent.

Being prepared with the right gear and experience is important regardless of how long you plan on being out. The reality is weather conditions can change suddenly, even if you’re not out for very long.

So How Can You Be Better Prepared?

In response to past hiker deaths, coronial inquests have identified better education, improved visitor management and safety measures as possible solutions.

But we’ve also identified a simple, but likely effective solution that could supplement a continued lack of appropriate gear: the use of a “gear library”.

A gear library would be set up at visitor centres where you’re usually expected to start hikes and would allow people to hire speciality gear items, such as personal safety devices (EPIRB, PLB). These can usually cost more than $200, but would be substantially cheaper in a gear library, ensuring rescue workers are notified and can find you after an accident.

Read more: Stick to the path, and stay alive in national parks this summer

It’s also important to keep a checklist to pack essential items. Some key items include:

• adequate supply of food and water, including contingency items for unexpected additional days hiking because of bad weather

• warm clothes, such as a waterproof jacket with hood and storm front, waterproof over-trousers, sturdy walking boots and warm clothing (a fleece or woollen jumper, thermal base layers, hat and gloves)

• appropriate footwear, such as hiking boots

• a tent for overnight hikes

• a first aid kit

• a torch.

There are plenty of resources for people seeking information about how best to prepare for their bushwalk, including national park visitor centres, Westpac Rescue Tas and the Parks and Wildlife Tasmania website. These websites provide essential bushwalking guides on what to pack and how to prepare for bushwalking.

Anyone can safely enjoy a good day out in the Tasmanian wilderness — it’s beautiful, but can also be deadly. You can never be too prepared.

Read more: Good signage in national parks can save lives. Here's how to do it right 

Vanessa Adams, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of Geography and Spatial Sciences, University of Tasmania; Jason Byrne, Professor of Human Geography and Planning, University of Tasmania, and Noelle Nemeth, Master's Research Student, University of Tasmania

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Growing up with trees: new books use story and science to connect kids with nature

When I tell people I’m an environmental psychologist, they often assume that means I am a “tree hugger” and they are not entirely wrong. But it really means I spend a lot of time thinking and finding out about people’s relationships with the natural world, trees included.

So when I dropped in at my local book store and saw a whole collection of new books for children about trees, I found myself wondering: What kinds of books help kids connect with trees?

The question was prompted by a recent publication, The Book of Australian Trees by Inga Simpson and Alicia Rogerson. Its not the only tree book published this year, but it’s notable for its focus on Australian trees.

The last few years have seen the publication of some remarkable books about trees for children, for example Peter Wohlleben’s Can you hear the trees talking (a 2019 young reader’s edition of his book The Hidden Life of Trees) and Piotr Socha and Wojciech Grajkowski’s The Book of Trees (2018).

I love both these books, but they also illustrate why books about Australian trees and plants are needed. When Socha and Grajkowski declare: “In winter, the only green trees are coniferous trees”, or when Wohlleben suggests young readers go outside and find a birch log (likely in in their family’s store of firewood) kids in the southern hemisphere might feel lost.

Read more: People are 'blind' to plants, and that's bad news for conservation

Learning To Love Plants And Trees

Having books that help children learn to love trees really matters to me. There is increasing concern that people are less connected with the natural world than in the past. Plants are of particular concern, as there is evidence of lower appreciation, knowledge and concern for plants compared with animals. Various writers have noted the negative implications of these trends for human health and well-being, environmental action, and conservation.

Direct experience of nature is often seen as essential to building connections, but it’s not always possible and might not be enough. Books can help children connect with trees, for example by:

• telling stories about trees (and people’s relationships with them) that evoke empathy for trees

• bridging everyday human experience with the very different life of plants

• building a vocabulary for talking about nature

• suggesting ways that young readers might directly engage with nature.

So how are recent children’s book authors going about this important task?

Read more: Where the old things are: Australia's most ancient trees

The Book Of Australian Trees

The introduction to Simpson and Rogerson’s book echoes some of these pathways for connection. “Trees tell stories about places,” Simpson writes and while trees may all seem the same, “if you look more closely, they are each a little different, like people”.

The book introduces just 16 different trees, most from the eastern mainland states of Australia. Each species is introduced with a single painting by Rogerson, often showing the trunk and lower canopy but sometimes just a part of the trees such as a Bunya Pine nut or a flower.

Simpson’s text is brief. It includes visual characteristics of the tree, the kinds of soils or climate in which it grows, and usually a an insight to cultural associations with the tree. Some entries refer to “famous trees”, for example Centurion, the tallest mountain ash tree found in Tasmania. Others refer to Australian literary references to trees, like the “Old Man Banksias” of May Gibbs’ Snugglepot and Cuddlepie stories.

I enjoyed Simpson’s evocative description of trees, particularly of bark and the ways it differs across trees and seasons. These often emphasise the links between visual attributes of trees and familiar human characteristics. Brush box branches “grow out like arms, with crooked elbows, then wrists and long fingers”. But while Simpson describes the kind of environments in which the trees typically grow, there is little sense of story or sense of place in these descriptions.

Books on trees and plants often focus purely on ecological qualities. Simpson incorporates cultural aspects of trees as they offer an important means of connection. But these are not always well considered. Linking magnificent Flame Trees to Cold Chisel’s 1984 song about “lost loves or old flames” seems unlikely to resonate with younger readers. Only a single entry (Bunya Pine) references relationships with First Nations peoples that have been maintained over many thousands of years.

The book is beautifully illustrated and celebrates the beauty of trees of this land — the flyleaf paintings of leaves, bark, cones, seeds, and blossoms lend themselves to a plant-rich conversation with younger readers.

4 More To Choose From

Other recent books about trees make great use of stories, emotion, science and tree-related activities to help children connect with trees.

The Forest in the Tree (by Australian team Ailsa Wild, Aviva Reed, Briony Barr and Gregory Crocetti) skilfully weaves story and science to explore symbiotic relationships between trees and fungi. Characters include Broma the Cacao tree and We, Gloma the fungal network that connects the forest system. It is sure to fascinate and inform older children.

Little Sap (by Jan Hughes and Ruth Hengeveld) is written for a much younger audience. It tells a moving tale of a mother tree and a young sapling who eventually takes her place in the canopy. The authors note they found inspiration in the science of Suzanne Simard and Monica Gagliano among others.

Peter Wohlleben has also published a book for younger children. His book Peter and the Tree Children is a tale about Peter the forester and Piet the squirrel, and all they learn while walking in the forest.

I found it less engaging than his earlier book Can you hear the trees talking which is structured around curious questions like “How do trees make babies?” or “Is there a forest internet?”.

Finally, Plantastic! A new A-Z to 26 of Australia’s most unique and incredible native plants by Catherine Clowes and Rachel Gyan deserves a mention. Its not only about trees, but suggests some great activities that will encourage Australian kids to get out into nature and explore the wonder of plants.

Kathryn Williams, Professor in environmental psychology, School of Ecosystem and Forest Sciences, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Elder, lawman, survivor: new stamp discovery is the latest chapter in Gwoja Tjungurrayi's remarkable life in pictures

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised this article contains images and names of deceased people.

Every contemporary Australian has likely seen Gwoja Tjungurrayi’s image. Tjungurrayi, a stockman, traditional lawman, and survivor of the brutal 1928 Coniston massacre, is the Warlpiri-Anmatyerr Aboriginal man engraved on our two dollar coin.

Tjungurrayi (whose name is sometimes spelled Gwoya Tjungurrayi, Gwoya Jungarai or Gwoya Djungarai) first rose to unlikely fame not on currency, but on the face of a postage stamp. In 1950 he became the first living Australian — settler or Aboriginal — to be featured on a stamp.

From 1950 to 1966, 99 million stamps featuring Tjungurrayi’s portrait were sold, and he became known to Australia and the world as “One Pound Jimmy”.

Now, fresh research has revealed the 1950 stamp was, in fact, not the first to feature Tjungurrayi. The discovery is the latest twist in a life story told in images.

The Face Of Geelong

In 1938, a postage stamp was released to mark the centenary of the Victorian town Geelong. It has no decimal mark as it was not issued by the Post-Master General’s Department. Hence it could not be used to send mail but was produced by the city as a collector’s item.

While researching images of Aboriginal people on stamps, in an online stamp collecting forum, I realised the man on the Geelong stamp was unmistakably Tjungurrayi, pictured 12 years before the “One Pound Jimmy” stamp. It’s the first time the image has been formally identified as Tjungurrayi.

Both stamps are based on a Roy Dunstan photograph of Tjungurrayi that first appeared in the Australian National Travel Association magazine Walkabout in 1936. Tjungurrayi had encountered Dunstan and magazine editor Charles Holmes east of Alice Springs, allowing Dunstan to take his photograph.

This chance encounter had a lasting impact on Tjungurrayi’s life, transforming him into an enduring public figure.

A Remarkable Life

Tjungurrayi was born around 1895 in the Tanami Desert north-west of Alice Springs. He was a survivor of the 1928 Coniston massacre in which up to 70 people were brutally murdered.

One son described Tjungurrayi “worm[ing] his way out from among the dead and dying”. Another son said he was captured and chained to a tree, but freed himself. He fled to the Arltunga region.

Tjungurrayi was a stockman and station hand by trade. But he was also a traditional lawman, land custodian, cultural intermediary and guide for visiting anthropologists, and family man. He took his responsibility as a father and law custodian very seriously, and was dedicated to ensuring traditional law and knowledge of country was passed down to future generations.

Tjungurrayi died in March 1965, having lived many years in the Tanami region. Obituaries to him appeared in Northern Territory News and on the Centralian Advocate’s front page.

Between Federation in 1901 and the 1930s, Aboriginal people were conspicuously absent in visual representations of Australian nationhood, which centred on native flora and fauna.

The use of Aboriginal motifs on stamps prior to Tjungurrayi’s image in 1950 was rare. The first stamps to feature Aboriginal themes were released between 1934 and 1950 — but there were only four designs and they didn’t portray real people.

Still, the use of images like that of Tjungurrayi exemplify what academic Jillian E. Barnes calls the “pioneer tourist gaze”, presenting him as an adversarial “other”.

Australian modernist artists and writers at this time such as Margaret Preston and the Jindyworobak literary movement became interested in Aboriginal designs and mythology, often appropriating these in their work.

“Aboriginalia” souvenirs and bric-a-brac depicting Aboriginal people according to racial stereotypes were displayed in suburban homes. Aboriginal people’s creative works and performances meanwhile, were still commonly classified as “ethnography”, not art, thus they were not afforded the opportunity to represent themselves and their own culture.

The 1938 stamp shows an apparently “authentic” Aboriginal presence in Australia, but relegates it to a distant and ancient time. In doing so it suggests the contemporary presence of Aboriginal people was anachronistic.

Read more: Friday essay: the politics of Aboriginal kitsch

A New Generation

The Geelong centenary stamp may have drawn inspiration from a 1934 Victorian centenary stamp. In both, a standing Indigenous figure is used to contrast the supposed “stasis” of Aboriginal pre-history with the “progress” and modernity of the Australian settler colony.

But as Tjungurrayi’s own life story demonstrates, Aboriginal people continued to survive and thrive, often against the odds. Tjungurrayi’s three sons became leaders in the Western Desert art movement in the 1970s.

One son, Clifford Possum Tjapaltjarri, became one of Australia’s best known and well regarded Aboriginal artists.

In 1988, a new chapter in legacy of the family’s engagement with the postage stamp began.

The painting Ancestor Dreaming (1977) by Tjungurrayi’s son Tim Leura Tjapaltjarri was featured on an Australia Post stamp as a part of a series celebrating Western Desert art.

Unlike his father’s designation as “Aborigine” in 1950, or his anonymity on the 1938 stamp, Tim was showcased as a significant artist.

In 2019, the Northern Territory electorate formerly named Stuart was renamed Gwoja in honour of Tjungurrayi.

Contemporary Australia is finally willing and able to remember and celebrate Tjungurrayi as an Elder, lawman and survivor.

Read more: A stamp of approval for legendary sports commentators - but only the male ones 

Paige Gleeson, PhD Candidate, University of Tasmania

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Curious Kids: where do swallows sleep?

Curious Kids is a series for children. If you have a question you’d like an expert to answer, send it to curiouskids@theconversation.edu.au You might also like the podcast Imagine This, a co-production between ABC KIDS listen and The Conversation, based on Curious Kids.

I would like to find out something about swallows: we have noticed that they return to the same nests each year, but there must be younger birds that have no nest. Where do they sleep until they have built their new nest? – Nefeli, age 13, Corfu, Greece.

Thank you for your question, Nefeli.

It’s true that some swallows return to the same nests each year. But what do they do there?

We need to understand what nests are really for – and they are not for sleeping. They are for putting eggs into. The eggs need protection from the weather (hot and cold, wind and rain) and from other animals that would eat them. For predators, eggs taste great!

Eventually the eggs hatch, then a blind and featherless baby swallow emerges. The babies are called nestlings or sometimes chicks. So nests are not for sleeping, they are for raising a family.

It is true that when an adult is sitting on eggs and nestlings, it may sleep, especially at night.

But the young swallows who don’t have a nest to return to must build their own nest (to protect and feed their babies) or sleep on a tree branch, a rock ledge of a cliff face, or inside the hollow of a tree.

When swallows sleep away from the nest they sleep in places called roosts.

So remember: nests are mostly for babies; roosts are for sleep.

Read more: Curious Kids: is water blue or is it just reflecting off the sky?

Hello, curious kids! Have you got a question you’d like an expert to answer? Ask an adult to send your question to curiouskids@theconversation.edu.au Please tell us your name, age and which city you live in. We won’t be able to answer every question but we will do our best.

Graham Fulton, PhD student, School of Biological Sciences, The University of Queensland

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Curious Kids: if trees are cut down in the city, where will possums live?

If trees are cut down in the city, where will possums live? - Millie, age 9, Sydney.

Hi Millie.

Thanks for your question. I worry about this too.

Trees are really important to possums in the city. Like lots of Australian animals, possums depend on hollows — a hole that forms in trees as they get older. Because possums are nocturnal (meaning they only come out at night), they need somewhere safe to curl up and sleep during the day. A nice cosy tree hollow is the perfect place.

Tree hollows are special because they take a long time to make. They usually happen when a tree gets injured and the place where it broke starts to rot away, eventually forming a hole. Most types of gum tree don’t even start making hollows until they’re more than 100 years old. Usually, the bigger the tree, the more hollows you’re likely to find.

Out in the bush, a possum might have lots of different trees and hollows to choose from. Some kinds of possum might have 12 different hollows – 12 bedrooms! Can you imagine?

But in the city, we don’t have as many big trees with hollows, so possums can’t be as picky about their bedrooms. And when a big old tree dies or is cut down, even if we plant a new one we might have to wait hundreds of years before it provides a good possum house. This means the possums have to look for somewhere else to live.

Read more: Curious Kids: if our bodies are happy at 37℃, why do we feel so unhappy when it's too hot outside?

Other Possum Places In The City

Now, there are a few other places that possums might find in the city.

They want somewhere dark, dry and warm, and they don’t mind if they’re not supposed to be there.

That’s why people often find possums sleeping in their roof, in old pots in the garden, or even inside a barbecue!

Tiny possums can squeeze into even smaller places. Sugar gliders are sometimes found in electricity boxes, and feathertail gliders might nest in a drainpipe.

It’s amazing how resourceful animals can be! But these aren’t very safe places for possums to make a home. So there are two things we can do to help.

1. Protect Our City’s Big Trees

There aren’t many left, so every single tree is important. And it’s not just gum trees — lots of types of trees make hollows or provide food for native animals. Even dead trees!

Great big trees can get dangerous as they get older because if they drop branches or fall over they could hurt someone. Sometimes tree experts can use cables to keep the trees upright and safe, or only cut down the dangerous branches.

Or sometimes we can fence the area so that people don’t walk underneath. If a tree does have to be cut down, scientists came up with an idea to move the whole tree to a new spot — like a tree transplant! The tree can’t grow anymore, but it still has all the hollows possums and other animals need to make their homes.

2. Build New Possum Homes

There are lots of different ways to build new hollows for wildlife. Nest boxes (sometimes known as dreys) might be made out of wood, or old hollow logs, or even pot plant liners.

Sometimes local councils will use a chainsaw to carve holes into trees to make new homes for wildlife.

And other scientists are using 3D printers to make hollows that mimic the same shapes as real hollows (but we need to make sure the designs are safe).

City trees are so important. They help keep us cool in summer, make the air nice and fresh, and they’re nice to look at. Some of them have been here longer than the buildings.

So protecting trees in the city isn’t just good for possums. It’s good for humans, too.

Read more: Curious Kids: why does the sun's bright light make me sneeze?

Hello, Curious Kids! Have you got a question you’d like an expert to answer? Ask an adult to send your question to curiouskids@theconversation.edu.au

Kylie Soanes, Postdoctoral Fellow, School of Ecosystem and Forest Sciences, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.