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Choosing a senior maths subject is truly like finding the Goldilocks option. Too difficult, and students may become overwhelmed and underperform. Too easy, and they may miss out on the challenge, preparation or assumed knowledge they require for their future career pathways. They need the subject that is just right.

Across Australia, thousands of students are currently choosing their Year 11 subjects. Students may think they’re just choosing a maths subject, but they are also shaping the university courses and careers most immediately available after school.

For most Year 11 subjects, the choice is relatively straightforward: students either choose chemistry, for example, or they do not. Maths is different, with multiple choices available. This can make subject selection difficult.

Finding the right fit

Let’s start with an important point: not every student should study the most advanced mathematics available.

Research shows choosing a maths subject that is too difficult can increase a student’s anxiety, lower their confidence and reduce their enjoyment of the subject. This may take away from their learning in other subjects or their general enjoyment of their senior years.

Instead, the right maths subject depends on a student’s interests, strengths and future goals.

For some students, a general or standard maths subject will provide the foundational mathematical knowledge they will use throughout their lives and careers. For others, advanced mathematics courses are a better fit.

What unis typically require

For some university courses, particularly in STEM, your senior maths subjects can determine whether you meet entry requirements or arrive with the assumed knowledge needed to succeed.

Many uni degrees in fields such as engineering, physics, computer science, mathematics, and actuarial studies require, or strongly recommend, advanced mathematics. Even when it isn’t a formal prerequisite, students often find first-year university maths requires the knowledge learnt in these subjects.

But what if you’re not looking at a STEM degree — are advanced maths subjects worth your time?

Advanced mathematics isn’t always just about content. Studying the subject develops analytical reasoning, logical thinking, problem solving, and mathematical modelling skills. These are valued across many professions, from economics and finance to business, technology, and data-driven industries.

Support in earlier years

One thing many families often don’t realise is that not all year 10 students will have every senior maths option available to them in years 11 and 12.

Across Australia, schools organise mathematics differently. However, most schools stream students into different maths pathways from as early as the start of Year 7. Those pathways often determine the content students study, and whether they are eligible to take advanced maths courses in the senior years.

This means that, by the time students are choosing their Year 11 subjects, some options may already have become much harder to access.

For families, it is important to ask questions about how maths pathways operate in their child’s school, rather than assuming students can easily access higher levels of maths later.

For students with STEM aspirations who are finding maths difficult in Years 7 to 10, seeking support early is important. Speaking with teachers, understanding pathway requirements, and addressing learning gaps before senior subject selection can help keep more options open.

Other pathways

The good news is there are still options for students to pursue STEM careers later on, even if they don’t study advanced maths in Year 12. Most universities now offer bridging mathematics, foundation studies and enabling programs for students who discover a passion for STEM after leaving school. However, these often involve additional study or a longer route to the same destination.

Some unis are also investing in initiatives that encourage students — particularly girls and students from underrepresented communities — to see themselves in STEM before they even reach Year 11. The path may look different, but the door is rarely locked.

One useful guiding principle for choosing maths subjects in Year 12 is this: students should choose the highest level that keeps future pathways open while remaining realistic about their interest, commitment and prior achievement.

Bronwyn Reid O'Connor, Lecturer in Mathematics Education, University of Sydney and Ben Zunica, Lecturer in Mathematics Education, University of Sydney

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

The senior years of high school can be very stressful. For many students, they are dominated by exams and pressure to gain a certain ATAR for certain university courses.

For some students, perhaps for health or family reasons – this pathway isn’t possible. But this does not mean uni isn’t an option.

Students have historically had to wait until after high school to complete a different pathway such as the Skills for Tertiary Admissions Test, a vocational educational training certificate, portfolio entry or enabling pathway.

Enabling courses can prepare students for undergraduate study. And as our new report shows, it’s possible for students to do an enabling program as part of their high school work.

What are enabling programs?

Enabling programs are courses that qualify students for undergraduate university study. They are also known as “bridging” or “fee-free uni ready” programs.

They teach both academic skills as well as subject knowledge and qualify students to enter a wide range of undergraduate degrees for example education, nursing, science, creative arts and criminology.

Since the 1990s, they have specifically supported students from equity and underrepresented backgrounds, or those with disrupted education.

Many enabling programs are run through universities. So, students complete them after they leave school (sometimes directly after school and sometimes many years after) . But they can also be run in schools, while students are in year 11 or 12.
Each universities has slightly different qualifying criteria for entry into the program based on English competency and school recommendations.

How do enabling programs work in schools?

In 2026, seven universities offer structured in-school programs, targeting regional, remote, and equity cohort schools.

Developed between universities and schools, these programs build academic skills, such as time management, research, academic reading and writing and maths. They can also focus on discipline-specific knowledge and on skills such as confidence and critical thinking.

The curriculum, designed by universities, is embedded in the school timetable in year 11 and 12 and taught by school teachers with university support. Some programs are also on uni campus outside school hours.

These programs are aimed at students who have uni aspirations, but have experienced disadvantage or have not thrived via an ATAR pathway.

Our research

We did an analysis of enabling programs delivered by 94 high schools around Australia. This included surveys of 2,000 students enrolled between 2021 and 2023.

We found 79% of the group completed the program and 660 students progressed to uni in 2022–2024.

Of those who went onto university study, 75% continued into second year. This compares to 79% for ATAR entrants.

At university, students who had done an enabling course had an average pass rate of 76%. recent school leavers who entered uni with an ATAR had an average pass rate of 88%.

What do students say?

In our survey, students repeatedly spoke of being under enormous pressure at school before choosing an enabling pathway. ATAR struggles and stress were a key reason for this. As one student noted:

I struggled a lot with ATAR. I did well in classes and assignments but fell through with the exams.

Another stated:

I dropped out of [the] ATAR [pathway] due to stress and poor mental health, but I still wanted to attend university.

Other students spoke of how the enabling program better suited their particular health or disability needs. One student with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder told us:

I found [school program] more effective […] as the learning was a lot more practical, and the learning and content felt more in-depth.

Students spoke of the program giving them “faith in myself” and a “head start” before they began undergraduate studies. As another student told us, “[the program] explained exactly what universities expect of you”.

What now?

Some politicians have criticised enabling programs in schools, saying they are not challenging enough and do not prepare students for university study. Our findings suggest the opposite.

This study suggests governments and schools need to increasingly recognise there is no single route that suits every student.

One limitation of the study is that this study did not have available data on graduates who went on to study at universities outside the partner institutions.

For schools and universities considering these programs, guidance from our research highlights how the strongest outcomes are linked to programs that are taught within the school timetable. This is because it reduces barriers to attendance and provides support and monitoring from their teachers.

Effective programs also need support from the university partners who provide teacher training and academic guidance. Information for schools on how to set up an enabling program with a university is further explained in our research.

Fiona Navin, Selena Dhondea-Tenakov, Joanne Lisciandro, Johanna Nieuwoudt, Anita Maclaurin, Fabiane Ramos, Shaz Attree and Michael Howie all contributed to the research report described in this article.

Angela Jones, Senior Lecturer Access and Equity, Edith Cowan University

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

Under the Morrison government’s Job-ready Graduates scheme, the price of arts degrees more than doubled to over A$50,000.

But while attention has understandably been focused on undergraduate degrees, what has happened at the postgraduate level?

In a new research paper we explore how the scheme slashed study costs for many postgraduate students, especially in nursing.

‘Full-fee’ versus ‘student contribution’ places

Since the late 1980s, universities have offered domestic students full-fee places in postgraduate courses. Full-fee places receive no government subsidy, and universities set the fees.

In 2024, the average university revenue per full-fee student place was $33,000 a year. Students can finance these fees with a FEE-HELP loan.

Full-fee places exist alongside postgraduate government-subsidised “Commonwealth supported places” (which are also used for undergraduates). For these places, the government provides a subsidy and students pay a price-capped student contribution.

These contributions are high – currently $17,399 a year in arts, business and law – but much less than the average full-fee rate.

Fixed numbers of subsidised postgraduate places

Before Job-ready Graduates, universities could offer postgraduate students Commonwealth supported places. But for each university the government capped numbers in total and by discipline.

By contrast, there were no restrictions around full-fee postgraduate places. As the chart shows, enrolments in full-fee places grew in most, although not all, years up to the mid-2010s.

The two largest postgraduate fields are teaching and business.

This reflected more people seeking to advance their careers through postgraduate study, as well as postgraduate degrees becoming a possible or required entry point for some professions such as psychology.

The cheaper Commonwealth supported places saved students money over full-fee courses, but produced anomalies across the system. Some universities were allocated thousands of places but others only dozens. Frustrated universities complained some competitors had Commonwealth supported places while they could only offer full-fee places in the same course.

Job-ready Graduates and student places

Job-ready Graduates, which was announced in 2020 and started in 2021, changed this situation. Instead of specifically allocating postgraduate Commonwealth supported places, the government put funding into a single, flexible grant shared with undergraduate courses.

For universities and their students this created new opportunities, but also new trade-offs: between undergraduate and postgraduate places, and between subsidised and full-fee postgraduate places.

Framing it differently, universities faced potential choices between opportunities for first and second-time students for government-subsidised higher education, and between lower and higher total revenue per student.

Increased postgraduate Commonwealth supported places was not an inevitable outcome, but it happened.

Between 2019 (the old system’s last normal year) and 2024, the number of postgraduate Commonwealth supported places increased by a third to more than 57,000. By contrast the number of full-fee postgraduate places at public universities fell by 11%, to about 41,000 places.

Which courses benefited?

Growth in postgraduate Commonwealth supported places occurred across many courses. But nursing was a standout, more than doubling to nearly 8,000 places. Specialities such as critical care and mental health nursing showed large increases.

Price differences between subsidised and full-fee places are very large in these fields. For example, for a Graduate Certificate of Critical Care Nursing at Deakin University a full-fee place costs $14,700 in 2026, while a Commonwealth supported place costs just $2,639. The University of Newcastle markets its Master of Mental Health Nursing as up to 75% cheaper, costing $5,117 with Commonwealth support.

Job-ready Graduates cut nursing student contributions to boost demand. While undergraduate nursing demand did increase, a discount was never likely attract students without prior healthcare interests. But for someone who is already a nurse, a cheap Commonwealth supported place could make a big difference to their decision to pursue postgraduate study.

University reasoning

Students prefer lower fees, but this still leaves the question of why universities offered more nursing places.

Our analysis of postgraduate enrolment trends was part of a broader project exploring university decision-making around Commonwealth supported places. As part of this project, we interviewed university leaders and officials.

A consistent theme was they wanted to prioritise postgraduate Commonwealth supported places in social service occupations with relatively low wages, such as nursing, teaching and social work.

Look at undergrad demand

While universities had social service reasons for offering more postgraduate places in certain fields, another important factor affected decision-making under Job-ready Graduates.

This was a major decline in domestic undergraduate demand. Fewer Year 12 students and more people choosing work over study in a strong labour market were both factors.

For many universities, this abolished the trade-off between undergraduate and postgraduate places. They had more funding for Commonwealth supported places than they could use.

Our interview research found universities placed a high priority on fully utilising their government funding. They saw this as a government expectation. They feared that consistent failure to use funding would see it cut. Offering additional postgraduate places was one way to use more government funding.

Can this last?

The social service reasons for offering postgraduate Commonwealth supported places will remain. But with undergraduate demand now recovering, boosted by renewed growth in Year 12 enrolments, the trade-offs with postgraduate places are returning.

At the same time, the government has introduced legislation putting tougher caps on how many Commonwealth supported students universities can take. This will see some universities need to reduce their Commonwealth supported student intake.

We cannot predict exactly how universities will navigate this changed environment. But postgraduate Commonwealth supported places have probably reached their peak as priorities are likely to move back to undergraduate education.

Andrew Norton, Professor of Higher Education Policy, Monash University and Ren-Hao Xu, Lecturer, Graduate School of Education, The University of Western Australia

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

Martin Scorsese recently announced he will be joining generative artificial intelligence (AI) company Black Forest Labs. He said he would embrace AI for storyboarding – the practice of creating a visual outline in the early stages of developing a movie or TV show.

The announcement was met with significant online backlash and sentiments about how AI has the potential to “ruin cinema”.

The announcement follows recent viral footage showing graduate students at multiple college ceremonies booing commencement speakers who praised generative AI. Speaking at the University of Florida, property developer Gloria Caulfield declared AI is “the next Industrial Revolution”. The humanities graduates, already burdened with debt and job insecurity, responded with a torrent of boos.

Former Google CEO Eric Schmidt and Big Machine Records CEO Scott Borchetta were also booed as they sang the praises of AI at graduation ceremonies. Their bemused reactions reflect a growing generational divide when it comes to AI adoption.

Who’s actually enthusiastic about new tech?

It’s often assumed younger generations are the most enthusiastic adopters of new technologies. Yet numerous studies already show gen Z is pushing back against AI.

A recent Gallup study found gen Z is

not convinced that AI enhances creativity or critical thinking, and the majority believe it may come at a cost, particularly to learning.

In contrast, a 2025 Thomson Reuters survey found the most “ambitious group” predicting AI would enter the workplace were baby boomers.

Baby boomers and AI

Baby boomers bridged the gap between analogue technologies like the typewriter and digital innovations like word processors. The labour market was defined by long hours and administrative filing.

This explains why, according to survey data, many boomers see AI as a revolutionary tool. They think AI not only saves time, but is more intuitive than the technologies they once relied upon.

Technology writer Josiah Gogarty argues boomers also find AI amusing. He points to the rise of low-quality AI content or slop on Facebook, “lapped up by the platform’s older audience”.

Yet for younger generations, AI presents an existential threat to their livelihoods.

When booed by the attendant students, Borchetta doubled down: “Deal with it. Do something about it. It’s a tool, make it work for you.”

But his comments ignore the structural conditions that allowed older generations to prosper in ways younger generations cannot. Borchetta and other boomers came of age during a period when human labour carried significantly more economic and social value than it does today.

The very systems that made these individuals wealthy have weakened labour security while removing the professional pathways that allowed them to thrive in the first place. The message “adapt or get left behind” therefore feels disingenuous to a generation now faced with a future defined by constant disruption and reskilling.

Gen Z’s loss of self worth

The issue is not just with a dire job market. Many young people are left feeling as though they no longer have any meaningful stake in a system that demands their compliance while it systematically engineers their obsolescence.

As social psychologist Shoshana Zuboff puts it, we are living in a

harsh social habitat produced by a decades-old regime of neoliberal market economics in which our sense of self-worth and need for self-determination are routinely thwarted.

Indeed, younger generations face a unique existential crisis as algorithms increasingly shape taste, preferences, decisions and more. Teens are “living inside a contradiction”, encouraged to embrace AI while they report it’s hurting their learning.

In the 20th century, baby boomers had greater agency over how much technology was integrated into their lives, and there was more opportunity to opt out. Studies show older generations were able to evaluate their adoption of technology based on factors like “compatibility with lifestyle” and affordability. Email and mobile phones weren’t viewed as essential to everyday life, nor was upgrading to a clock radio or a TV with a remote control considered as “inevitable” as having an AI chatbot on your smartphone is today.

Today, AI and algorithms feel unavoidable to younger generations, because they’re built into the very fabric of society. Tech CEOs argue the dominance of AI is inevitable, but the people in power aren’t engaging in dialogue with younger generations.

In an age when it feels as though we’ve resigned ourselves to a future determined by AI and algorithms, younger generations now want to reclaim agency over their futures, rather than just blindly embrace AI.

The vocal gen Z backlash against AI should be a reminder to everyone that alternatives to an AI-saturated future are still possible.

Siobhan Lyons, Scholar in Media and Cultural Studies, Macquarie University

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

Today, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese laid out how his government plans to manage artificial intelligence (AI) and ensure the rapidly advancing technology works in Australia’s interest.

In a major speech at the University of Sydney, Albanese declared that AI “is a bigger challenge and a bigger opportunity than social media”, and that Australia must move now to determine its “social licence” and capture the opportunities it presents.

Key to the government’s plans is the immediate establishment of an Office of AI within the prime minister’s own department and the creation of new national standards for AI.

This news comes as a group of leading economists and AI researchers urge policymakers and tech companies around the world to prepare now for how the technology could reshape the global economy on a much bigger and faster scale than the Industrial Revolution did.

A new office and new standards

Albanese said the new Office of AI will coordinate AI policy across government, rather than leaving individual departments to develop their own approaches. This will be similar to how the government developed coordinated approaches for other significant technologies such as civil aviation and genetics.

The office will also help coordinate the design of new national standards for AI.

These standards, which Albanese said will be legislated early next year, will build on the government’s previously announced expectations for data centres. They will, for example, create a new legal obligation for large data centre operators to underwrite their own power supply, not increase household power prices, and minimise water usage.

Other countries are also grappling with how best to handle this issue. Indeed, hours before Albanese’s speech, New York enforced a one-year moratorium on the building of new data centres.

There are growing calls for Australia to do the same.

But Albanese suggested his government would not be heeding these calls. As he said:

No government can turn back the clock or press pause on all of this. Nor would we want to. That would only mean cutting ourselves off from the opportunities that are there to be seized.

Protection for artists and creative industries

Albanese also reiterated his government’s commitment to the “strongest possible protection” for artists, musicians and journalists, who should retain ownership and control of their works in the AI age.

Last year the Labor government rejected a copyright exemption that would allow AI companies to use protected content for free when developing AI models.

In contrast to other jurisdictions (such as the United States, European Union and Japan), Australian AI developers will still have to pay for creators’ content.

This approach is fair. But the government has since been grappling with how to ensure this policy does not disadvantage Australian AI developers and the payments reach actual creators.

In his speech today, Albanese promised laws to address this. But he did not provide any clarity on what they might look like.

Where does Australia sit internationally?

By establishing the AI Office and developing national standards for AI, Australia is trying to position itself as an international leader in AI policy.

But Albanese’s claim that Australia “will be the first country in the world to bring [AI] issues into a single, national framework” is overstated.

For example, the European Union adopted the AI Act back in 2024. This established strict regulation especially for high-risk AI. It also established the EU AI Office to coordinate the implementation of the AI Act and protect people against the risks of the technology.

This year, however, the EU Commission introduced amendments to weaken some of the requirements in the AI Act and postponed certain implementation deadlines.

This “watering down” of the AI Act is intended to boost AI innovation in the EU. It comes after AI developers have been complaining that strict EU regulation slows down AI development.

Other countries seem to also favour a pro-innovation approach, instead of strong regulation. South Korea, for example, has introduced an AI Basic Act for high impact AI systems, but its rules are much less strict than in the EU.

Japan has opted for voluntary guidance for the AI sector.

So Australia’s decision not to introduce hard regulation (such as mandatory AI guardrails) but rather rely on softer standards and national-level coordination appears to align with international trends.

A starting point

The new standards and office announced today are a good starting point for managing AI. So too is Albanese’s promise to protect creative industries whose content has been used by AI companies to train their large language models without consent.

However, we don’t yet know how, or how well, the government will do this.

Much more work and leadership from the government is needed – especially in relation to mitigating the wide array risks of AI, from misinformation and deceptive deep-fakes, anti-democratic propaganda, health AI apps causing health safety issues, and public security challenges.

And while the government hopes its new AI standards will allay community fears about data centres, the news out of New York is likely to only fuel the push in Australia to hit “pause” on them.

Rita Matulionyte, Associate Professor in Law, Macquarie University

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

I remember watching an interview with actor Sam Neill, who has died aged 78, saying “Good screen acting hints at secrets. At other lives underneath the veneer.”

At the time, I wondered what were these secrets Neill was referring to.

I just had to look at the vast body of Neill’s work, the characters he played, and how he played them to answer that question.

Claiming him as Australian

The actor was born Nigel John Dermot Neill in 1947 in Northern Ireland before moving to New Zealand as a child. In the time-honoured tradition of Australia claiming New Zealand talent as our own, it was when he made the move across the pond that he first found fame and the launching pad for his international career.

A law school dropout, he soon found acting to be his calling while at university, acting in a number of plays before moving to New Zealand television and his first starring role in the action thriller feature Sleeping Dogs (1977).

This film got him noticed in Australia where he picked up a small role in television series The Sullivans before landing his first major motion picture – My Brilliant Career (1979), opposite another emerging talent of the Australian screen, Judy Davis.

He made a plethora of less widely known films like Just Out of Reach (1979) and Attack Force Z (1982), while also appearing in television shows such as Young Ramsey.

His international break out film was, unusually, playing the son of Satan in the quite schlocky Omen III: The Final Conflict (1981).

But the film was commercially successful, and the role opened up many doors for Neill who spent the rest of his professional career criss-crossing continents and acting in films and television series in the United States, the United Kingdom, Europe and his original home, New Zealand.

As often happens with our Australian talent, they have to be recognised overseas before we recognise them back home.

So back in Australia we came to embrace Neill in landmark films such as playing Micheal Chamberlain opposite Meryl Streep in Evil Angels (1988) and opposite a young Nicole Kidman in Dead Calm (1989).

At this time, he met with producer Cubby Broccoli to be considered as the replacement for Roger Moore in the James Bond series, but unfortunately lost out to Timothy Dalton.

Neill may have been the greatest Bond we never had.

The actor who didn’t show he was acting

Perhaps the role he is best remembered for is as the star of the original Jurassic Park (1993) and sequels Jurassic Park III (2001) and Jurassic World Dominion (2022), where he played renowned palaeontologist Alan Grant.

This role is a great example of how refined his acting talents were.

At the beginning of Jurassic Park, Grant is quite aloof and cold to those around him, and visibly uncomfortable around the park owner’s grandchildren. As the drama unfolds, Grant gradually shifts to becoming the children’s protective mentor risking his life for them.

Neill doesn’t do this through dramatic speeches or over-the-top visual displays. Instead he gives us a performance of subtle shifts in the character’s behaviour.

Neill’s ability at nuance made his roles so believable and authentic.

When we view his body of work, we can see Neill’s characters always have a significant level of intellect and astuteness. He was often cast in roles of men of intelligence, quiet authority or class. Neill was the reasonable, decent man everyone looked at for stability and strength when disaster fell, and all others were losing their heads.

He had this understated quality to many of his roles. Not being the overt method actor like many of his generation, he chose restraint and reason, embellishing his characters with a feeling of genuine realism.

Neill was able to relate emotion through slight facial expressions or minute vocal inflections. He could be equally delighted, menacing or upset with just a glance.

The quality of the man

Neill took many risks with the roles he took on. His versatility and range meant he could be equally good in a historical drama (Sirens, 1994) as he was in a comedy (Death in Brunswick, 1990) or even horror (In the Mouth of Madness, 1994) and sci-fi (Event Horizon, 1997).

It shows the quality of the man that Neill was as willing to appear in blockbusters as he was in small, independent films, to help and coach the next generation of filmmakers.

In ironic casting, the Sam Neill who dropped out of law school to become an actor played his final role as a lawyer, in the acclaimed three seasons of the Australian courtroom series The Twelve (2022–25).

In 2023, Neill said “I’m not afraid to die, but it would annoy me”.

For him it may have been annoying. Those who admired him will be meeting this moment with profound sadness and gratitude for the exceptional work he leaves behind.

Neill uncovered the secrets in the lives of all of his characters, presented them to us in his own inimitable style and made even the most ordinary moments feel quietly extraordinary.

Daryl Sparkes, Senior Lecturer, Media Studies and Production, University of Southern Queensland

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

Female farm managers are hidden in plain sight in ancient Roman texts, mentioned in laws, literature and grave inscriptions across five centuries. Modern historians have generally assumed they were housekeepers, in charge of domestic tasks and household meals, and segregated from the productive business of the farm.

My new paper, published in the Journal of Roman Archaeology, challenges this assumption.

In fact, there is evidence to suggest that many Roman female farm managers supervised wine production and other processes vital to farming and profits.

A false lead

A farming manual written by the Roman writer Lucius Junius Moderatus Columella in the 1st century CE is a window to the roles of the female manager.

An upper class landowner himself, Columella lists the responsibilities of farm managers, who were probably enslaved. The male manager was termed the vilicus, and the female manager the vilica, terms derived from their roles at the “villa”.

But many historians reading this text have been side-tracked by a false lead: Columella begins his section on the vilica with a long quote from the Greek philosopher Xenophon, who wrote in Athens more than four centuries earlier.

The “natural” role of women, according to Xenophon, was to work indoors. Therefore in his discussion, the ideal upper-class married woman is depicted staying inside her town house to supervise the domestic work of the slaves.

The Greek writer is not discussing farm workers. In fact, Columella says four times that these ideas are not his own, but those of Xenophon, writing long ago.

Columella lists a completely different set of responsibilities for the vilica on a Roman farm: most importantly, the making of wine and olive oil, which were highly valuable commodities – the backbone of landowners’ profits.

In his description of the vilica’s duties, Columella includes the extraction of the juice from grapes during the harvest; adding flavourings and preservatives such as salt, wormwood, fennel or boiled grape-juice; and overseeing successful fermentation into wine.

According to Columella, the vilica also managed the processing of other farm products to make them long-lasting and profitable, such as turning inedible olives into olive oil for sale.

From archaeology we know that production of wine or oil, using huge machines in substantial buildings, could reach 50,000 to 100,000 litres per year, or even more. The vilica was therefore responsible for overseeing large-scale work essential to the operation of the estate.

Calling on the gods

Correct sacrifices to the gods were seen as vital to the success of the farm. Archaeology has uncovered altars for offerings in Roman wine-making buildings.

Wine-making in the Roman world was a precarious process, due to uncontrolled temperatures, bacteria or oxygenation. Wine could easily go mouldy or turn into vinegar.

A striking element of Columella’s account is that he includes carrying out offerings to avert such a disaster in his instructions for the female farm manager.

Looking for more clues

Other texts contain barely more than a mention of the vilica, revealing only her presence.

But we can still put together some clues.

Legal writings on inheritance, quoting the 1st century BCE jurist Trebatius, include her in the instrumentum fundi – whatever (including enslaved personnel) is required for productive work, gathering and preserving produce of the estate.

Another aristocratic landowner and writer, Cato the Elder, living two centuries before Columella, lists both the female and the male farm manager as essential staff for a vineyard or olive farm.

He devotes only one small section to outlining the female farm manager’s tasks, but a close look shows these are not predominantly domestic. Cato includes keeping poultry and processing of seasonal farm products. Although he does include supervision of cleaning, this could refer to maintenance of work spaces such as stables and wine making buildings, an integral part of estate management – and also listed by Columella among the vilica’s duties.

Cato also gives the vilica the responsibility for making sacrifices to the gods for the success of the farm. She must regularly offer garlands at the altar “for abundance”, he writes.

A Roman mosaic showing estate work in different seasons depicts a scene of sacrifices for abundant crops to the god Jupiter (in his Celtic form as a sky and weather god). A woman is shown holding an offering of garlands, just as Cato instructs. Beside her are a jug for wine offerings and a male figure.

Perhaps this mosaic shows the vilica and vilicus, both essential to the success of annual harvests. While such images of female figures are rare, one fragmentary wall painting from Rome shows a female overseeing wine-making workers, just as Columella describes.

This combined body of evidence suggests we should expand outdated understandings of the roles that Roman women played in farm production, the dominant sector of ancient economies.

No vilica has left us an account of her work in her own words. But by paying careful attention to the evidence, we can hear an echo of her voice.

Tamara Lewit, Honorary Fellow, School of Historical and Philosophical Studies, The University of Melbourne

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

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has vowed to protect Australian writers, musicians, artists and journalists, saying they “must retain ownership and control of their work. Our laws will spell that out plain as day.”

In his speech on AI, delivered at the University of Sydney, he said:

no company should use Australian books, music, art or news to build or train AI without the artist’s control. That includes the artist’s control of the price and value of their work […] Anything less, is theft

The best way, he said, to secure the strongest copyright protections for Australian artists was “for Australia to be active and involved”. But while these are strong words, he did not spell out what action his government would take. Meanwhile, creators are already having their work plundered.

How will his government legislate to protect Australian ownership of Australian work? Will it act on thefts that have already taken place?

What could be done

There are two main courses of action the federal government can pursue to protect Australian creators’ work. One is legislative and the other is legal.

In Australia, unlike other jurisdictions, copyright is automatic for Australian creators and covered by the 1968 Copyright Act. There have been relatively few updates to this legislation, despite major changes in technology.

For example, loading content such as books into AI is often a breach of copyright, but it is common practice, including among university students.

It would be possible to amend the legislation to allow uploads, so long as creators received payment for the associated training the large language model (LLM) gains from the upload. This could work in a similar way to the system where copyright holders receive payment when their work is used in student readers.

Some arts groups are “encouraged” by Albanese’s speech. The Australian Society of Authors chair, Jennifer Mills commended the government

for sticking to its principles and seeing the value of Australian authors and Australian stories. Our rights as creators must be defended. Now big tech needs to come to the table and accept the facts.

The problem is that AI companies effectively have all the licence they need to breach Australian copyright, since no coordinated action is underway to address the existing scraping of Australian copyright material to train LLMs such as ChatGPT or Claude.

This is not for lack of evidence. In 2025, the Atlantic published an online database of works that had been scraped by AI companies. Local authors were quick to discover their works had been a part of that process.

Taking action against multinational companies is not new ground in Australia. To name just one recent example, attorney-general Michelle Rowland announced the government would sue US manufacturer 3M over its use of forever chemicals.

Such lawsuits are a reminder that powerful tech companies are not beyond answering for their actions. The federal government could, for instance, launch a lawsuit against a tech company on behalf of creators whose copyright has been breached.

Lawsuits are happening in other countries. In the US, publishers have just launched a lawsuit against Google, alleging it has illegally copied works to train its Gemini AI product.

The theft continues

No other country, said Albanese, had “got it right” in protecting creators “when it comes to AI training”. Australia will “build the best possible solution for ourselves”.

But any claims that Australia is “active and involved” are little more than hot air without action on the existing thefts of Australian material and a program for compensation. The latter could potentially take the form of an agreement brokered between the government and tech companies to pay creators for work that has been used in LLM training.

It’s worth remembering, too, that there is already a body looking after copyright payments for Australian writers. Under current arrangements, Australians registered with the Copyright Agency receive a payment based on a survey it conducts determining how many times their work has been copied without recompense. This covers school and university readers and government use.

At the moment, there is no such payment from any AI company as compensation for the work these companies have used to train LLMs. There is no reason why this agency could not be involved with the development of a new system to tackle AI companies.

While Australia might self-identify as a small or relatively insignificant country, federal legislation, from the media bargaining code to the under-16 social media ban (leaving to one side deliberations on its efficacy), is making us a world leader on some tech issues.

And while there is hot air on copyright, the government has promised to “speed up approvals” on data centres. The imbalance is clear: data centres are getting support and copyright creators are not.

Alice Grundy, Visiting Fellow, School of Literature, Language and Linguistics, Australian National University

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

I remember watching an interview with actor Sam Neill, who has died aged 78, saying “Good screen acting hints at secrets. At other lives underneath the veneer.”

At the time, I wondered what were these secrets Neill was referring to.

I just had to look at the vast body of Neill’s work, the characters he played, and how he played them to answer that question.

Claiming him as Australian

The actor was born Nigel John Dermot Neill in 1947 in Northern Ireland before moving to New Zealand as a child. In the time-honoured tradition of Australia claiming New Zealand talent as our own, it was when he made the move across the pond that he first found fame and the launching pad for his international career.

A law school dropout, he soon found acting to be his calling while at university, acting in a number of plays before moving to New Zealand television and his first starring role in the action thriller feature Sleeping Dogs (1977).

This film got him noticed in Australia where he picked up a small role in television series The Sullivans before landing his first major motion picture – My Brilliant Career (1979), opposite another emerging talent of the Australian screen, Judy Davis.

He made a plethora of less widely known films like Just Out of Reach (1979) and Attack Force Z (1982), while also appearing in television shows such as Young Ramsey.

His international break out film was, unusually, playing the son of Satan in the quite schlocky Omen III: The Final Conflict (1981).

But the film was commercially successful, and the role opened up many doors for Neill who spent the rest of his professional career criss-crossing continents and acting in films and television series in the United States, the United Kingdom, Europe and his original home, New Zealand.

As often happens with our Australian talent, they have to be recognised overseas before we recognise them back home.

So back in Australia we came to embrace Neill in landmark films such as playing Micheal Chamberlain opposite Meryl Streep in Evil Angels (1988) and opposite a young Nicole Kidman in Dead Calm (1989).

At this time, he met with producer Cubby Broccoli to be considered as the replacement for Roger Moore in the James Bond series, but unfortunately lost out to Timothy Dalton.

Neill may have been the greatest Bond we never had.

The actor who didn’t show he was acting

Perhaps the role he is best remembered for is as the star of the original Jurassic Park (1993) and sequels Jurassic Park III (2001) and Jurassic World Dominion (2022), where he played renowned palaeontologist Alan Grant.

This role is a great example of how refined his acting talents were.

At the beginning of Jurassic Park, Grant is quite aloof and cold to those around him, and visibly uncomfortable around the park owner’s grandchildren. As the drama unfolds, Grant gradually shifts to becoming the children’s protective mentor risking his life for them.

Neill doesn’t do this through dramatic speeches or over-the-top visual displays. Instead he gives us a performance of subtle shifts in the character’s behaviour.

Neill’s ability at nuance made his roles so believable and authentic.

When we view his body of work, we can see Neill’s characters always have a significant level of intellect and astuteness. He was often cast in roles of men of intelligence, quiet authority or class. Neill was the reasonable, decent man everyone looked at for stability and strength when disaster fell, and all others were losing their heads.

He had this understated quality to many of his roles. Not being the overt method actor like many of his generation, he chose restraint and reason, embellishing his characters with a feeling of genuine realism.

Neill was able to relate emotion through slight facial expressions or minute vocal inflections. He could be equally delighted, menacing or upset with just a glance.

The quality of the man

Neill took many risks with the roles he took on. His versatility and range meant he could be equally good in a historical drama (Sirens, 1994) as he was in a comedy (Death in Brunswick, 1990) or even horror (In the Mouth of Madness, 1994) and sci-fi (Event Horizon, 1997).

It shows the quality of the man that Neill was as willing to appear in blockbusters as he was in small, independent films, to help and coach the next generation of filmmakers.

In ironic casting, the Sam Neill who dropped out of law school to become an actor played his final role as a lawyer, in the acclaimed three seasons of the Australian courtroom series The Twelve (2022–25).

In 2023, Neill said “I’m not afraid to die, but it would annoy me”.

For him it may have been annoying. Those who admired him will be meeting this moment with profound sadness and gratitude for the exceptional work he leaves behind.

Neill uncovered the secrets in the lives of all of his characters, presented them to us in his own inimitable style and made even the most ordinary moments feel quietly extraordinary.

Daryl Sparkes, Senior Lecturer, Media Studies and Production, University of Southern Queensland

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

It was May 1999 and Derryn Hinch had been called into the manager’s office at Adelaide’s 5DN. The ratings for his morning program had been tumbling, and after less than a year on air he was told to pack his things.

At the time, I was writing a profile of him for The Australian newspaper and happened to be in his office as he gathered his belongings. He told me that after the station manager broke the news he responded with two demands: the biggest possible payout, and the right to tell the press the truth about why he’d been sacked.

According to Hinch, 5DN offered him an “out” to give to the media. The station was happy to say he’d resigned to write a book. But Hinch was having none of it. “Nothing annoys a journo more than being bullshitted,” he said.

As well as being the “human headline”, Hinch was known for his towering ego and unfailing tabloid news sense. But those who knew him well also say he was a straight shooter, immensely likeable and, as he demonstrated after his fifth sacking in seven and a half years, also disarmingly self-deprecating.

“I’ve been to more stations than the Southern Aurora,” he joked.

Principled, in his own way

I first met Hinch in the early 1990s in the studios of Channel Ten, where he’d taken his eponymous current affairs program after it had been dropped by Channel Seven. He let me observe the production process for a documentary for Radio National’s Media Report.

Frankly, some of what I saw behind the scenes was shocking, including one of the program’s reporters faking footage because they’d got to a story late and missed the action they were there to cover.

But the most memorable moment was sitting next to Derryn as he wrote his tub-thumping nightly editorial with which he famously began each show.

That night he was accusing a judge of being too lenient because he’d given a sex offender a light sentence. As I watched him pounding away on the keyboard, I noticed his source was a three-paragraph news brief on a ripped-up piece of newspaper sitting on his desk.

I questioned whether he knew enough about the case to be so judgemental? Perhaps the judge might know more about the circumstances of the case than he did? Perhaps a light sentence was appropriate in this case?

No way, replied Hinch. Too many judges are too lenient, they all need to toughen up, too many offenders are getting away with appalling crimes. I asked whether he had sought a comment from the judge himself. Of course not, he replied, there’s no point doing that, they won’t talk to the Hinch program.

That was Hinch. Endlessly outraged and untroubled by the norms of balanced or considered reporting. But also principled in his own way, especially on the issue of sex crimes and the abuse of children.

It was the cause for which he was imprisoned in 1987 for contempt of court after disclosing the prior convictions of paedophile Catholic priest Michael Glennon, who was then facing trial. He was also convicted of contempt of court in 2011 after defying several suppression orders, and sentenced to home detention. And he was convicted again in 2014 for detailing the criminal history of the man who murdered Melbourne woman Jill Meagher.

Hinch’s friend and colleague Steve Vizard – who regularly impersonated Hinch as a bearded zealot crying “shame, shame, shame” down the barrel of a camera – told ABC Radio today that Hinch’s disregard for the legal process increased the possibility of guilty sex offenders walking free.

“If you derail a trial you’re inflicting your own verbal punishment in substitute to proper legal punishment,” he said.

However ill-conceived it was, Hinch’s commitment to the cause was heartfelt and drove his move into politics at the age of 72 as a senator for Victoria between July 2016 and June 2019.

A series of short-lived stints

Hinch was born in New Zealand and worked for the Taranaki Herald before moving to Australia to become police roundsman for the Sydney Sun. He later edited the paper after 11 years working in the United States and Canada.

In 1978 he worked for Melbourne radio station 3XY before joining 3AW as the morning presenter the following year.

In 1987, Seven’s then owner Christopher Skase walked into his office and told him “I want to make you the Walter Cronkite of Australia”. The idea appealed to Hinch’s outsized ego and soon his racy current affairs program was born.

In 1992 he moved to Network Ten, but that only lasted two years before he was recruited by Nine to present the Midday Show.

Sacked after just a year, he moved to 2GB, which also fell apart quickly, as did a stint at Melbourne’s Gold FM and then Adelaide’s 5DN.

His ratings in Adelaide had fallen to just 4.5%, suggesting he’d either lost his once-famous tabloid news sense or that he was too “eastern states” for Adelaide listeners.

On that occasion, Hinch was sanguine. He conceded he had no one to blame but himself, unlike his dismissal from 2GB, which he attributed to a falling out with owner John Singleton.

At the time, his longtime friend and former producer, Paul Barber, concluded that Hinch’s saturation coverage meant he had gone the way of TV personalities such as Bert Newton and Don Lane. “People become so totally over-exposed that the public become exhausted and doesn’t bother anymore, we’re all becoming Derryn’d out.”

But apparently not.

Bombastic but genuine

In February the following year, 3AW called a press conference to announce that Hinch was back, as the presenter of the station’s popular Nightline program.

At the press conference, I asked him whether he was still drinking heavily. It seemed like an appropriate question as this was the sort of thing he routinely asked others and because his excessive drinking had been a theme throughout his career. His excessive alcohol consumption would be the primary cause for the cancer and cirrhosis of his liver which led to a liver transplant a decade later.

Despite this, he assured the media he had his drinking and infamous long lunches under control.

His return to 3AW made him the surprise winner of the cash-for-comment scandal that had rocked the commercial radio industry, especially Sydney’s 2UE, and had claimed the scalp of longtime 3AW presenter Bruce Mansfield.

Hinch knew he was lucky to be back and had even accepted a smaller salary. He promised not to waste the opportunity, but it too didn’t last long.

Today, former colleagues and friends have spoken about Hinch with great fondness. They agree that unlike the fearsome public persona he once had, he was in fact extremely likeable.

Up close he was personable, a superb listener and, most endearingly, open to criticism and scrutiny. He was quite used to the rest of the media criticising him for his tabloid style and didn’t seem to mind it at all.

His longstanding and always-busy lawyer, Nic Pullen, told ABC Radio Hinch was bombastic and larger than life, but also humane and genuine. It’s these traits that makes his death at age 82 “a sad day for Australian journalism”.

Andrew Dodd, Professor of Journalism, The University of Melbourne

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

Melatonin is best known for helping us sleep. But a new study suggests it might have another surprising use: easing muscle and joint pain.

Produced naturally by the pineal gland in the brain at night, melatonin helps regulate the body’s sleep-wake cycle. That’s why this hormone is widely used as a treatment for insomnia and jet lag.

Sleep and pain are closely linked (poor sleep can make pain feel worse, and pain can make sleep harder). But melatonin may also reduce pain directly. Researchers believe it dampens pain signals in the brain and spinal cord, reduces inflammation, calms overactive nerves and protects cells from oxidative stress – the cellular wear and tear caused when harmful molecules build up.

In the new study, researchers combined the results of 23 clinical trials involving over 2,000 participants to identify overall patterns. These trials looked at melatonin for long-term muscle and joint pain as well as pain after surgery.

Overall, melatonin reduced both pain and sleep problems in people with chronic muscle and joint pain. But the improvements were modest. On average, pain scores fell by about nine points on a 100-point scale. That’s within the range reported for some anti-inflammatory drugs in similar studies, although the two treatments haven’t been directly compared.

Melatonin’s effects may also depend on whether people already have sleep problems or other long-term health conditions. Most of the chronic pain studies included people who already had poor sleep to begin with, but none of the trials looked at results separately for people with and without sleep issues. Because of this, it’s unclear whether melatonin works better for people who struggle with sleep or whether the effects are similar for everyone.

The findings were much less convincing for pain after surgery. Melatonin did not make a noticeable difference to pain or sleep. One analysis found a tiny improvement (about 2.5 points on a 100-point pain scale), but this is far below what would matter to patients recovering from surgery.

The benefits in chronic muscle and joint pain are modest. Based on the current evidence, melatonin should be seen as a possible add-on treatment rather than a replacement for established therapies. The evidence suggests melatonin could complement treatments such as physiotherapy, exercise and anti-inflammatory medicines rather than replace them.

What we still don’t know

There is also still a lot we don’t know. The trials in this study used a wide range of doses, from 1mg to 10mg, and the researchers couldn’t determine which dose worked best.

There were hints that longer treatment helped more in chronic pain, but this was based on only a few studies. There is also very little evidence on the effectiveness of higher doses, even though they appear safe in other studies.

Melatonin is widely used and generally considered safe for short-term use, but it can cause side-effects, such as daytime sleepiness, dizziness, headaches and nausea.

People with liver or kidney conditions, or those with autoimmune conditions like rheumatoid arthritis, should speak with a doctor or pharmacist before taking it.

It is also worth noting that melatonin is regulated very differently around the world. In the US, melatonin is sold as a dietary supplement, meaning people can buy it easily in supermarkets and online without medical advice. But in the UK, melatonin is a prescription-only medicine and is only licensed for short-term sleep problems and jet lag.

For now, the findings suggest melatonin may offer modest relief for some people with chronic muscle and joint pain, particularly if poor sleep is part of the problem. It’s unlikely to replace established treatments, but it could eventually earn a place alongside them. Larger, well-designed trials will be needed before doctors can say with confidence who is most likely to benefit.

Dipa Kamdar, Senior Lecturer in Pharmacy Practice, Kingston University

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

It begins with a follow request. An 18-year-old male accepts one on Instagram from an attractive female stranger. She likes his posts, messages him first, friendly, flattering, quick to move the chat to a messaging app.

Within an hour she has shared an intimate image and asked for one in return. The moment he sends it, the flirtation stops: pay, or his image goes to his mother and every friend the blackmailer has found on his profile. A countdown begins.

This is a fictional scenario, but in 2025 the eSafety Commissioner received more than 3,300 reports of sexual extortion or “sextortion”. The vast majority of reports were made by male victims.

A national survey by the Australian Institute of Criminology found more than one in ten Australian adolescents have experienced sexual extortion, over half of them before they’d turned 16. Two in five were targeted with digitally manipulated material, and two-thirds by someone they had only ever met online.

In addition, new national research published last week found that among young people who had sexual images shared without consent, one in four said AI was involved.

eSafety’s latest transparency report, released today, draws on answers platforms must provide under Australia’s Online Safety Act. It reveals many platforms are still not using available tools to detect this crime. Yet sexual extortion is arguably the most predictable serious crime on the internet. It follows a script.

A crime that follows a script

Sextortion is a form of blackmail in which someone threatens to share a nude or sexual image (real or AI-fabricated), unless the victim pays or provides more intimate material. When the target is under 18, it is child sexual exploitation.

Offenders – frequently organised criminal networks overseas – work through a well-documented sequence. First contact usually happens on social media before the conversation is moved to another service, such as Snapchat or WhatsApp. The offender fast-tracks trust by sharing an intimate image, sometimes using images taken from earlier victims.

Once the target shares their image, the demands begin, often with countdowns engineered to cause panic. Meanwhile the offender searches their social accounts for family and friends to threaten to contact.

Each stage leaves linguistic “fingerprints”. eSafety’s investigators have compiled the gangs’ most common scripts, language indicators and recycled fake imagery, and supplied them directly to the major platforms.

The pattern is so recognisable, eSafety built a public campaign around it. “If sextortionists were honest”, launched in June, uses AI-generated characters to act out the script in advance so young men can spot it in their own messages.

If a short video can teach a teenager to recognise a sexual extortion script, why can’t the largest tech companies teach their systems to do the same?

What the report shows

The new report puts sexual extortion at its centre and shows the detection gap persists across all seven providers.

In the second half of 2025 alone, eSafety received more than 2,000 sexual extortion complaints: men aged 18 to 24 were the largest cohort, and Instagram and WhatsApp the services most named.

Yet Instagram used no language analysis in private messages. It relies on user reports, even though Meta removed end-to-end encryption from private messages in May this year, clearing the way for detection tools.

WhatsApp – where messages are encrypted – used none either and offered no dedicated way to report sexual extortion.

Apple’s iMessage also used none. Its nudity-blurring Communication Safety feature can’t detect extortion scripts or threats and is on by default only for self-declared under-18s.

Snapchat ran language analysis only on material reported by users and did nothing proactive, even on the unencrypted parts of its service. Discord used no language analysis at all, despite most of its service not being encrypted. Google used none on Messages or Gmail.

Microsoft illustrates both the possibility and the failure: it uses language analysis to detect sexual extortion on Xbox, yet applies no equivalent tools on Teams.

If a service encrypts messages, it can make proactive detection of sextortion scrips difficult, although not impossible. And it can’t explain the detection gap on unencrypted services like Instagram, Discord, Gmail, Teams, or the parts of Snapchat that are not end-to-end encrypted.

When blackmail occurs in plain text, the barrier to detection is simply the platform’s priorities.

Where to from here?

Three steps would make an immediate difference.

First, platforms should deploy language analysis across every unencrypted service. It should be calibrated to protect both children and adults, using the indicators eSafety has already supplied. The regulator has collected the threat intelligence for them.

Second, detection should trigger intervention. If the victim receives a warning or interruption at certain moments the script predicts, it can interrupt the crime and redirect them to receive support. A legislated digital duty of care would make such safety-by-design a legal obligation rather than an optional extra.

Design matters, as the report found only 0.3% of teens who received Snapchat’s warning about a risky contact chose to block or report. However, good warning message design can work, and such interventions must be evaluated and continuously improved, not just switched on.

Third, companies need to share more information across platforms. This crime deliberately migrates between services – for example, from Instagram to WhatsApp (both owned by Meta) – precisely to exploit the gaps between them.

Social media and messaging platforms should share more threat intelligence across sectors such as finance, which is more regulated and has stronger connections to law enforcement. Currently, that’s not happening at a level needed to disrupt the criminal networks of sextortion.

Sexual extortion announces itself in plain text. The playbook has been recorded, studied, and delivered to the companies that host the crime. Detecting it does not require a breakthrough, but a decision to act.

Joel Scanlan, Adjunct Associate Professor, School of Law; Academic Co-Lead, CSAM Deterrence Centre, University of Tasmania

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

Phones and devices have become inextricably linked with everyday life. They store our credit cards, provide critical bus updates, and allow us to communicate whenever we need to.

But when our device use starts to affect our mood, replace real-life experiences, or interfere with face-to-face relationships, it’s a sign our habits have crossed the line from healthy to unhealthy.

How are teens more affected?

Teenagers are particularly vulnerable to excessive device use, as the part of the brain responsible for planning, imagining consequences and working for delayed rewards has not yet fully matured. They also have heightened sensitivities to rewards and social evaluation (in other words, what your peers think of you).

Research shows teenagers are more prone to mood swings, are still evolving their ability to manage uncertainty and are learning how to regulate their emotions.

All of this makes them more susceptible to online triggers that can trap a vulnerable teen in a cycle of conflicting and constantly changing emotions, particularly when information is arriving constantly.

For teens (and adults) it can become a complete world of its own where daily responsibilities are avoided and challenges are only faced with a dependency on phones.

So how do you know when it’s become a problem?

What to look out for

There are some obvious signs excessive device use is becoming a problem for teens (or yourself).

1. They use phones to fill in spare time. If every quiet moment is filled with scrolling, checking notifications or opening apps, it shows a teen’s device is the primary way they respond to spare time, stress or discomfort.

2. They appear distracted when you talk to them. If your teen automatically reaches for their phone midway through conversation, it might be a sign they devalue face-to-face exchanges and have lost the discipline to wait.

3. They put off important tasks. When teens routinely avoid everyday responsibilities such as work, homework, school, household chores or tasks that involve mixing with new people.

4. They seem tired all the time. Teens may block negative thoughts by scrolling in bed, socialising online late in the night, or even getting into bed after the school day.

How does it get to this stage?

The devices we rely on have the potential to develop what I call the “addictive pull” due to the features and services available on them. The “pull” begins when notifications, such as likes, messages, loot box wins and emails, arrive on devices unpredictably. Some are positive while others are neutral. And some also relieve worries. This creates a powerful dopamine-driven loop.

Over time, the device itself becomes a conditioned stimulus. This means even something as simple as seeing your phone case, or watching your device’s screen light up, is enough to trigger an urge to check it. It’s almost as if we are magnetically pulled to the device in the hope of a reward (such as more messages or likes), or to soothe a preoccupying worry.

This can also create an anxiety loop which means even without a notification, a person checks their device, rechecks it and experiences brief moments of relief via a message or app. When the loop occurs on repeat, it winds up worry and creates emotional dependence on others or apps.

The “addictive pull” can be hard to resist. Over time these unnoticed habits can become associated with the space where devices are often used (such as the bedroom, the apartment, the bus). The “pull” to re-engage with a device is a result of predictable conditioning and reinforcement processes rather than a lack of willpower. The bedroom – a place of rest, privacy and study – can be particularly problematic for teens and adults.

Leading by example

We cannot expect children or teens to break from the “addictive pull” if the adults around them don’t either.

As a parent, these are some ways you can lead by example to be more intentional when using devices.

1. Recognise the subtle tension that builds when you have a worry and want to reach for your device immediately.

2. When you walk into your home, place your phone or smartwatch out of the way and in a bag.

3. Do not have your phone or tablet in arm’s reach when it is designated family time.

4. Work with each family member to put apps being used without restraint onto one device per person. For instance, a parent or older teen might have TikTok on a tablet and not on their phone (so they can use their phone without distraction). They should then try to use that tablet in only one room of the house, outside of the bedroom.

Remember, an honest picture of everyone’s screen time habits sit on the device’s screen time records. We may get a minor fright when looking at it, but rather than resigning ourselves to this new way of life – and ignoring the insidious impact on attention, mood and wellbeing – we can commit to one another to make small changes.

Danielle Einstein, Adjunct Fellow, School of Psychological Sciences, Macquarie University

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

I hate you. You’re the worst mum in the world!

It’s a sentence that can feel heartbreaking to parents. You try to set a boundary with your little one and they lash out with “I hate you”.

Those words land can like a punch. Even when you know, deep down, that your child doesn’t really mean it.

Why do kids say this? And how can you respond?

Hitting a nerve

Part of what makes “I hate you” so hard to hear is that it can touch on something most parents quietly worry about. “Am I doing this right?”, “Am I a good parent?”.

Being on the receiving end can also be unexpectedly triggering. For parents who grew up in households where strong emotions were dismissed, minimised, or hidden, a child’s emotional outburst can feel alarming, disrespectful or even shameful. Your instinct might be to shut it down quickly, or to feel something has gone badly wrong.

What’s going on when a child says ‘I hate you’?

Try not to read too much into it if you child says “I hate you”. Young children, especially those under six, are in the early stages of learning how to understand and regulate their emotions. The part of their brain responsible for regulating emotions, is still very much developing.

While this is most common in young children, children of all ages can struggle to find words for overwhelming feelings.

When a young child is overwhelmed by an emotion (like anger at being told no or disappointment of being told to leave the playground), they often don’t have the language to help them express these big feelings.

So they may use the strongest words they know without understanding the true meaning.

The good news is children are most likely to express big, uncomfortable emotions with the people they feel safest with. They trust that this person can handle their feelings, and are confident their love is unconditional. This reflects a strong, secure parent-child relationship.

What can parents do in the moment?

1. Take a breath before you respond

Notice what this brings up for you. Where you can, take a moment to regulate your own emotions so you can model emotion regulation for your child.

2. Acknowledge and validate the emotion

Before anything else, name what you’re seeing. For example, “I can see you’re really angry right now. That makes sense. You really wanted to keep playing, and it’s hard when we have to stop.”

This isn’t about agreeing with the outburst. It’s about letting your child know their feeling has been seen and that anger itself is OK. Strong emotions need acknowledging before they can settle. Teaching children all emotions are OK early on sets them up for strong emotional regulation skills later on.

3. Stay present while the feeling passes

Once you have acknowledged the feeling try to avoid problem-solving straight away. Staying present (keeping your attention on your child — resisting the urge to walk away, pick up your phone, or move straight to problem-solving) and helping your child ride out the big emotion and find a calmer state is the goal.

For some children, they may respond well to a hug or having you sit calmly next to them. Other children may want more space. Staying calm and being present is often enough to help a child regulate their emotions.

4. Gently name the limit

Once there is more calm, gently remind your child that while all emotions are OK, telling someone you hate them can hurt their feelings. For example, “It’s OK to feel angry but it’s not OK to say I hate you. What else could you say next time?”

5. Reconnect

Once your child is calm, find a way to show they are safe and loved. Repairing a situation after conflict is one of the strongest ways to build and sustain a secure attachment – or the bond between parent and child. This is also an important way to model respect, even during times of conflict. You could say, “That was hard. You were really upset. I love you, even when you’re angry.”

6. Help build their emotional literacy

Teaching kids to recognise and name all their emotions can help give them the words to say “I’m angry” next time. Integrating this into play and via books can be useful. Practising strategies that help them respond to strong emotions (for example, jumping up and down, colouring, going outside, petting a pet) when they are calm, can help kids when intense emotions do show up.

7. Remember that support is available

If you find yourself upset about these moments often, or they are bringing up things for you, it’s worth reaching out for support. Talking to someone, whether that’s a friend, a GP, a psychologist or a helpline, can really make a difference and help parents be in a place to better manage when these situations come up.

If this article has raised issues for you, some helplines include:

PANDA — 1300 726 306 (for perinatal mental health, which is also relevant if the parent is also experiencing postnatal difficulties)

Beyond Blue — 1300 22 4636

Mensline- 1300 78 99 78 (a free telephone and online counselling service offering support for Australian men anywhere, anytime)

13YARN — 13 92 76 (for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples)

Alison Fogarty, Research Fellow, Lifespan Institute and School of Psychology, Deakin University, Deakin University; Grace McMahon, Clinical Psychologist and Research Officer in the Intergenerational Health Group, Murdoch Children's Research Institute, and Monique Seymour, Clinical Psychologist, Research Fellow in the School of Psychology, Deakin University

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

If you are feeling financially depleted personally, and pessimistic about the economic outlook generally, figures released this week won’t cheer your mood.

The OECD found Australia was one of 11 developed countries where the real minimum wage had fallen between April 2025 and April 2026.

Meanwhile, Deloitte Access Economics in its latest Business Outlook cut its forecast for growth in 2026–27, with the dismal message, “The economy is now expected to limp along at less than 2.0% annual growth for the next two years”.

This was followed by the International Monetary Fund’s World Economic Outlook data projecting Australia’s GDP growth to be 1.9% this year and 1.7% next year.

Australia’s overall economic growth is slow, but at least it’s in positive territory. However, that’s held up by population increase. On a per capita basis, GDP went backwards in two of the past five quarters (March 2025 and March 2026) and was flat in a third (September 2025).

No wonder consumer confidence is low, and One Nation’s tune rings loudly in the ears of voters who hear it reflecting their grievances.

The government would say, hang on a minute, it’s not all bad. Business investment is strong. Unemployment is still very low. It would also point out that “talking down” the economy can play into “pushing down” the economy.

Nevertheless, the government can read the numbers, and one thing they tell us is that without refuelling that vital growth agent, productivity, we will stay in the doldrums.

Despite all the talk since the election about action to boost productivity, we need faster progress to improve our poor performance.

Yes, some reforms are in the pipeline, for example to remove obstacles and streamline approvals in the building sector and to reduce the regulatory burdens on projects.

But those looking for bigger, faster gains are inevitably turning their attention to Artificial Intelligence. At the government level, AI is receiving extensive attention from cabinet and ministers individually.

AI can, potentially, be the accelerant under big productivity gains. New data centres (not all involve AI but increasingly they do) are fuelling business investment. Australia is an attractive home for international investment in these centres because of its land and water, its uptake of technology, and the stability of its legal and political systems.

But AI also brings a mass of potential negatives (or fears of them). Data centres soak up vast amounts of energy and water, as well as producing noise and heat. Some communities are unhappy about them.

This new industrial revolution fires up its bright-eyed advocates, and comes with warnings from the worriers.

It’s a bit like that in the federal ministry too, where there’s a spread of views about the rollout of policies and which stakeholders should have how much say in what’s done.

Some characterise it as a sort of tug-of-war between the enthusiasts and the cautious.

Former industry minister Ed Husic favoured overarching new legislation, but the government has gone down the more decentralised route, with ministers and regulators having carriage of AI in their own areas.

Assistant Minister for Science, Technology and the Digital Economy Andrew Charlton is seen by colleagues as something of an ambassador for AI. Although well down the formal pecking order, Charlton carries weight because he’s highly qualified in economics and tuned into the AI sector. As cabinet secretary he has a level of political access other assistant ministers would not.

Charlton is a strong promoter of AI but also mindful of the need for strict conditions, not least for maintaining its social licence.

Industry minister Tim Ayres – who’s Charlton’s senior minister in the portfolio – is attuned to the opportunities AI presents and doesn’t want Australia to miss out. But he comes from the union movement and has highlighted unions (which are cautious about AI) should be “at the top table” in the rollout.

Employment minister Amanda Rishworth is concerned about the fate of many workers. On Wednesday she released a report prepared by her department on “AI and Employment in Australia”. One line in it neatly sums up where things are. “AI could reshape the labour market, but its effect on employment is highly uncertain.” Bearing in mind we’re in the first stage of this journey, the report found,

There is no evidence to date of broad labour market upheaval driven by Artificial Intelligence (AI) in Australia. Overall labour market conditions remain strong by historical standards, youth outcomes have mostly held up, and occupational reshuffling has not accelerated.

However, occupations more exposed to potential automation by generative AI have grown more slowly than other occupations. Between November 2022 and February 2026, employment in the most-exposed fifth of occupations grew by 5.6%, compared with 9.5% in the least-exposed fifth.

We find a small negative relationship between AI exposure and employment growth. For an occupation with AI exposure one standard deviation above average, our model implies employment was about 2% lower by February 2026 than it would have been under its pre-ChatGPT trend.

The government in December released its National AI Plan. It was interpreted as “light touch” regulation, and reflecting the position of Treasurer Jim Chalmers. It was also light on detail, although it did include an AI Safety Institute and flagged expectations data centres would have to meet, that were subsequently released.

AI can’t have a set-and-forget policy. It has to be constantly updated as things develop, and hot issues must be addressed as they emerge.

Just now, there’s much concern in the music industry and other parts of the arts and creative communities. Arts Minister Tony Burke is dubbed the “shop steward” for the musos. Creatives are particularly worried about their copyright being undermined. Attorney-General Michelle Rowland, who oversees copyright, is said to be disturbed by the agitation. The government believes the existing law on copyright is robust enough, but is ready to act if particular problems need attention.

The government is very aware of the need for Australia to stamp its sovereignty on AI policy. Perhaps influenced by its battle with the tech giants over the enforcement of the under-16 social media ban, it believes it can’t allow “the tech bros to let it rip”, as one source puts it. But it can’t allow the country to fall behind the pack either.

Next week Anthony Albanese will give a speech on AI. It is expected to present a broad picture rather than all the nitty gritty. But it is being billed as showing the level of prime ministerial engagement in this area in which the government is trying to thread a course between huge potential and undoubted risks.

Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

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

Australians’ life expectancy has increased steadily over time but dropped during the COVID pandemic, according to a new report released today by the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare.

The report – Australia’s Health 2026 – shows life expectancy for a boy born in 2022–2024 was 81.1 years, while a girl could expect to live, on average, to 85.1 years.

However newer data not included in the report shows this has stabilised and life expectancy in 2024 was up marginally at 85.5 for women and 81.6 for men.

Between 2003 and 2024, Australians’ life expectancy and years lived in “full health” increased. But the time spent in poor health also rose: by 1.2 years for men and 1.5 years for women.

More than three in five (61%) Australians now have at least one chronic condition – such as asthma, arthritis or depression – and almost two in five (38%) have two or more.

Cancer causes the most burden of disease, or years of healthy life lost to illness and premature death. Mental conditions and substance use disorders as a group are the second biggest cause of healthy life lost.

Dementia is now the leading cause of death in Australia, accounting for almost one in ten deaths in 2024. Dementia deaths rose by 39% in a decade, while deaths from coronary heart disease – the previous leading cause of death – decreased by 18%.

So what are the biggest changes to Australia’s health and wellbeing over the past two years? The Conversation’s panel of health experts explain.

Our experts

Sebastian RosenbergMental health

Sarah DiepstratenCancer

Peter BreadonHealth expenditure

Helen DickinsonCarers

Nicole LeeDrinking

Kathryn BackholerObesity

Mental illness is rising among young people but supports aren’t keeping up

Sebastian RosenbergAssociate Professor, Brain and Mind Centre, University of Sydney

One in five Australians aged 16–85 (22%) had experienced a mental disorder in the previous 12 months. This rate appears fairly stable.

However, the proportion of people aged 16–24 experiencing a mental disorder has increased, from 26% to 39% between 2007 and 2020–2022.

Given 75% of all mental illness manifests before the age of 25, we need effective responses for young Australians.

Mental illness is 15% of the total burden of disease and suicide. Meanwhile, self-inflicted injury was the leading cause of disease burden among males aged 15–44.

Yet a previous report found mental health accounts for only 7% of total health spending. This gap doesn’t explain all of the crisis in mental health, but it explains something.

Some 6.5% of Australians are reported as having psychosocial disability (disability arising from a mental illness). This is up from 4.6% in 2018.

Now half a million Australians with severe or moderate psychosocial support needs aren’t receiving support through the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) or other government‐funded programs.

More cancer in young people but survival rates are increasing overall

Sarah DiepstratenSenior Research Officer, Blood Cells and Blood Cancer Division, Walter and Eliza Hall Institute of Medical Research

Significantly more Australians are surviving five years after a cancer diagnosis, up from 50% in 1987–1991 to 72% in 2017–2021.

This is due to people being diagnosed earlier, when cancers are easier to treat, as well as the availability of more effective therapies.

While survival rates have not improved for all cancers equally, even the deadliest cancers have seen major improvements. Pancreatic cancer only has a 14% five-year survival rate (2017–2021), but this has increased from only 3.1% (1987–1991).

The report highlights increasing cancer incidence among younger people. Diagnoses for people in their 30s have risen by 11.6% since 2000, primarily for colorectal and thyroid cancers.

But the actual numbers remain low (135 cases per 100,000 people), and the number of deaths from cancer among younger people has actually declined by 38% since 2000.

While cancer remains the greatest contributor to disease burden in Australia, addressing modifiable risk factors such as obesity and smoking – coupled with cancer screening and focused research initiatives – will help reduce cancer incidence and deaths going forward.

Obesity has overtaken smoking as the leading contributor to disease

Kathryn BackholerCo-Director, Global Centre for Preventive Health and Nutrition, Deakin University

Excess weight and obesity have overtaken tobacco use as the leading risk factor contributing to disease burden.

In 2022–24, around 13.2 million adults (67%) and 1.4 million children and adolescents (27%) were living with obesity or were overweight.

The generational pattern is particularly concerning. Australians born more recently are more likely to be living with obesity compared to previous generations at the same age. Among adults aged 25–34, obesity increased from 20% in 2011–12 to 29% in 2022–24.

Urgent action is needed to create healthier environments that make it easier for Australians to choose healthy foods and stay physically active.

We also need more equitable access to evidence-based treatment and care, including GLP-1 weight-loss medicines. As the report notes, the high cost of these medicines means the people with the greatest need are often less able to access them.

Risky drinking is down, but we still drink more than our OECD peers

Nicole LeeAdjunct Professor at the National Drug Research Institute, Curtin University

Australians drink 9.8 litres of pure alcohol (773 standard drinks) per person each year. This is well above the OECD average of 8.4 litres.

First Nations people are less likely to drink at all than the general population and risky drinking among in First Nations people has fallen from 48% in 2010 to 33% in 2022-23.

Risky drinking, which is often linked to injuries and emergency department visits, has also declined in the general population.

But alcohol is now one of the most preventable drivers of chronic disease. It contributes to more than 200 health conditions such as cancer, heart and liver disease, injuries and poor mental health.

With Australia’s population ageing – and three in five Australians already living with at least one chronic condition – reducing risky drinking is one of our biggest opportunities to prevent future disease and ease pressure on the health system.

Health-care costs have risen, with more people skipping care

Peter BreadonProgram Director, Health and Aged Care, Grattan Institute

After pandemic fluctuations, three long-term trends resumed: government spending kept going up, so did the share of funding going to hospitals, and so did patient out-of-pocket fees.

Australia spent just over $10,000 per person on health in 2023–24. That’s 17% higher than a decade ago, on top of inflation, and a quarter higher than the average among wealthy nations.

The biggest area of health spending remains hospitals, which take up a growing share, rising from 39% to 42% over the past decade.

Average out-of-pocket fees totalled $1,634, nearly $200 more than a decade earlier (in today’s dollars). As fees go up, more people are skipping care, with 8% of Australians saying they delayed or avoided a GP visit in 2024–25 because of the cost.

And for some care, patients shoulder a much bigger share of the bill. They pay the most for dental care, covering 61% of total costs, so it’s no surprise 16% of people skipped dental care due to cost.

Carers are compensating for system gaps and are burnt out

Helen DickinsonProfessor, Public Service Research, UNSW Sydney

Unpaid carers provide ongoing support to family members, friends and neighbours who have a disability, chronic illness, mental illness, age-related frailty, dementia, or other condition that limits their independence.

In 2022 around 3 million Australians (one in eight) provided informal care, including 1.2 million primary carers. These carers perform a wide range of tasks that help the person remain safe, healthy and living in the community.

Unpaid carers are estimated to save the Australian economy around $77.9 billion each year in avoided care costs.

Research consistently shows carers experience poorer health and wellbeing than the general population. The AIHW report shows:

• 61% of carers did not report healthy levels of wellbeing, compared with 34% of Australians overall

• 43% felt lonely (often or always) compared with 12% of Australians overall

• 36% experienced high psychological distress, compared to 16% of Australians overall.

The report warns that:

without better-coordinated and more responsive formal support, pressures on unpaid carers may intensify.

Yet the federal government’s proposed NDIS reforms may increase pressures on unpaid carers by tightening eligibility and reducing funded supports.

This risks shifting greater caring responsibilities onto families.

Disclosure statements:

Sarah Diepstraten receives funding from the National Health and Medical Research Council, Cure Cancer Australia and My Room Children’s Cancer Charity.

Kathryn Backholer is Vice President (Policy) at the Public Health Association of Australia. She receives funding from the National Health and Medical Research Council, the Australian Research Council, The Ian Potter Foundation, The National Heart Foundation and VicHealth for her research related to food and nutrition and obesity prevention.

Nicole Lee has previously been awarded grants by state and federal governments, NHMRC and other public funding bodies for alcohol and other drug research. She is CEO of Hello Sunday Morning, a government funded not for profit alcohol early intervention service.

Grattan Institute has been supported in its work by government, corporates, and philanthropic gifts. A full list of supporting organisations is published at www.grattan.edu.au.

Helen Dickinson receives funding from the Australian Research Council, National Health and Medical Research Council, the Medical Research Future Fund and Australian governments.

Sebastian Rosenberg does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Fron Jackson-Webb, Deputy Editor and Senior Health Editor, The Conversation and Matt Garrow, Editorial Web Developer, The Conversation

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

The clock reads 2:13am. You are exhausted. Your eyes ache, your body feels heavy and the alarm is already beginning to loom over the night, yet your brain refuses to let go. Instead, thoughts arrive in waves. Did you send that email? What if you forgot something important? Perhaps now is also the perfect time for your mind to replay a conversation from 2017 with forensic precision.

Many people recognise this frustrating state of being “wired but tired” – the paradoxical feeling of being physically exhausted but mentally unable to switch off. Surely tiredness should produce sleep automatically, but the brain does not simply fall asleep because the body is fatigued. In fact, under stress, exhaustion and sleeplessness often occur together. Part of the reason lies in the biology of survival.

The human stress response evolved to deal with immediate physical threats. For most of human history, danger tended to be extreme and short-lived – a predator nearby, an environmental hazard or conflict with another human group. In those moments, the brain’s priority was not rest but survival.

When the brain detects threat, a region called the amygdala initiates the body’s classic fight-or-flight response. Stress hormones including adrenaline and cortisol are released. Heart rate increases, breathing quickens and attention sharpens. Energy is diverted away from long-term maintenance tasks towards immediate action.

This response is extraordinarily useful – if you are trying to escape a sabre-toothed tiger. It is much less useful when the “threat” is an overflowing inbox or mounting financial pressure.

Modern stressors are psychologically powerful but biologically peculiar. Unlike predators, they rarely resolve quickly. Emails continue arriving. Work follows us home through smartphones and laptops. Social media creates a constant stream of social comparison and low-level vigilance. Even leisure time has become strangely porous, interrupted by notifications, messages and often the expectation of permanent availability.

The result is that the parts of the brain responsible for keeping us alert can remain partially activated for long periods. This matters because sleep is not simply the absence of wakefulness. Falling asleep requires the brain to actively reduce alertness. A network of arousal centres in the brainstem, hypothalamus and forebrain normally keeps us awake and attentive during the day. To transition into sleep, these systems must quieten down.

Under long-term stress, however, the brain can become stuck in a state of hyperarousal. Even when the body is exhausted, the brain continues scanning, anticipating and rehearsing. From an evolutionary perspective, this makes a certain kind of sense. If the environment feels threatening or uncertain, being fully offline may not seem safe.

One reason this state feels so unpleasant is that physical exhaustion and mental arousal are controlled by overlapping but partly separate systems. Your muscles may desperately need rest while your brain continues producing stress-driven alertness. The result is the strange mismatch many people know well, a tired body and racing thoughts.

Cortisol also plays an important role. Under normal circumstances, cortisol follows a daily rhythm. Levels rise in the morning to promote wakefulness and gradually decline towards night. Chronic stress can disrupt this pattern, leaving the body activated later into the evening.

Some studies suggest that people with insomnia show elevated metabolic and neurological activity even while trying to sleep – almost as though the brain is idling too high. Modern life may amplify this problem in ways our nervous systems did not evolve to handle.

Why the modern world makes it worse

Artificial light suppresses melatonin, the hormone that helps regulate sleep timing. Smartphones provide endless cognitive stimulation at exactly the point the brain should be winding down. Doomscrolling combines emotional arousal, uncertainty and novelty – three things human attention systems find almost impossible to ignore.

Then there is rumination: the repetitive mental replaying of worries and problems. Humans possess a remarkable ability to mentally simulate the future and revisit the past. This capacity helps us plan, learn and avoid danger. But it also means the brain can continue generating stress responses long after any immediate threat has disappeared.

The cruel irony is that the more exhausted we become, the harder emotional regulation often gets. Sleep deprivation itself increases amygdala reactivity while reducing the moderating influence of the prefrontal cortex – the part of the brain involved in rational control and perspective.

A tired brain becomes more emotionally reactive, which can make worries feel even louder at night. In other words, being overtired can make the brain less capable of calming itself down.

This helps explain why “just relax” is usually terrible advice for insomniacs. Hyperarousal is not simply a failure of willpower. It is a deeply biological state shaped by stress systems, hormones, attention networks and learned patterns of vigilance. That does not mean the situation is hopeless.

Sleep researchers often emphasise that rest and safety are closely linked in the brain. Consistent routines, reduced evening stimulation, exercise, daylight exposure and limiting late-night screen use can all help reinforce the signals that night is a time for recovery rather than alertness. Cognitive behavioural therapy for insomnia has also proved remarkably effective, partly because it targets the cycle of anxiety and sleeplessness itself.

Perhaps the most important point is broader. Feeling “wired but tired” is not evidence that your body has failed to rest properly. Often it is evidence that the brain has become too good at staying alert in a digital world that never really stops.

Michelle Spear, Professor of Anatomy, University of Bristol

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

Around one in three people worldwide have been infected with a microscopic parasite called Toxoplasma gondii – or simply “toxo” – which can cause toxoplasmosis. After the initial infection, toxo settles into our muscles and brain, where it can remain for life.

A parasite that lives in our brain for life – that sounds worrying.

Yet, the vast majority would not even know they are infected, as it rarely poses clinical problems in healthy people who aren’t pregnant. In fact, our bodies do a remarkable job of protecting us against a barrage of infections, without us even knowing, toxo included.

So, why has toxo received so much attention? And are you at risk even if you don’t have a cat?

Do we get toxo from cats?

Cats can carry toxo and pass it on to humans through their faeces. They are the only “definitive hosts” in which the toxo parasite can reproduce.

But this doesn’t mean it’s only cat owners who are at risk.

Worldwide, eating undercooked meat that contains toxo is a major source of infection.

It’s also important to note that cats only shed toxo when they are infected for the first time and are then immune afterwards, meaning they no longer shed and pass it on. Most infected cats show no symptoms, but if they develop the clinical disease toxoplasmosis, they may lose their appetite and experience fever and lethargy.

Who is at risk?

Many people first hear about the risk of toxo infection in relation to pregnancy.

Expectant mothers are told to stay away from undercooked meat and kitty litter – two ways we can accidentally ingest toxo. The parasite can cross the placenta and infect the developing fetus, leading to blindness, congenital neurological defects and miscarriage.

Thankfully, this is very rare in Australia, estimated to be 0.17–2.3 cases per 10,000 births. The risk is considered low enough that routine screening during pregnancy is not necessary.

Some people will have previously been infected with toxo and won’t be at risk of a new infection during pregnancy. The risk is to pregnant women who have never had toxo.

In Australia, infectious disease doctors and oncologists are also trained to look for toxo.

A dormant infection can become a deadly illness if it reactivates into an acute infection which can occur if you become severely immunosuppressed, after receiving a bone marrow transplant or contracting HIV. In these rare cases, effective therapies are available, although with some significant possible side effects.

Toxo can also cause progressive blindness if parasites lodge in the retina. Retinal toxoplasmosis has been estimated to be one in 149 people in Australia. Optometrists and ophthalmologists are well trained to look for this and other eye infections.

The risk is much higher in other countries

For instance, the estimated infection rate in France is around 50%, while in Brazil up to 80% of people have been exposed. These countries report a far higher number of related health problems.

Such high infection levels are thought to do with eating undercooked meat, greater numbers of stray cats, the type of locally circulating strains, and local hotter and humid climates that allows toxo to survive in the environment.

OK, but how does toxo affect the brain?

Once infected, toxo can live in the host’s muscles or brain for life. But we have no way of knowing exactly where it is; the only tests we have show the presence of antibodies, not the parasite itself.

Interestingly, when a rodent’s brain is infected, toxo can manipulate the rodent’s behaviour, including reversing its natural aversion to cat odour.

Scientists have speculated that the parasite does this to make the infected rodent less likely to run away, and therefore more likely to be eaten by a cat. This completes the parasite’s complicated life cycle; their sexual cycle exclusively takes place inside cats.

Such a remarkable ability of toxo – a single-celled organism – to impart behavioural changes on a complex organ like the brain seems fantastical. But it has been proven true over multiple rodent laboratory studies.

But while we know toxo can affect rodents’ brain and behaviour, we don’t know how this happens, exactly why, or whether it happens outside of the laboratory.

Can toxo affect human behaviour?

In humans, researchers have found links between toxo and a wide range of brain disorders and behaviours, including risk-taking behaviour and psychiatric conditions, especially schizophrenia.

But we should view these findings very cautiously, as these are correlative studies. This means they do not prove toxo is the cause of these diseases or behaviours, just that there is a link. Further, they show only a mild increase in risk. Other published scientific papers refute some of the findings.

Correlative studies also cannot prove which came first: whether a condition such as schizophrenia, for example, changes your behaviour in ways that make a toxo infection more likely, or whether a toxo infection predisposes you to – or even causes – this condition.

This is the most contentious area of research in the field, so is continues to be a major focus for scientists.

How worried should I be?

So should the fact that one in three people carry a brain-dwelling parasite keep us awake at night?

Probably not.

For most healthy people, toxo remains a silent passenger for life, causing no illness at all. Our health-care system already manages the situations where it poses genuine risks, particularly during pregnancy and in people with weakened immune systems.

But understanding how this remarkably successful parasite hides from our immune system could lead to something we’ve never had before: treatments that completely clear dormant infection.

That would make a real difference for the people most at risk and would transform how we think about one of the world’s most common infections.

Chris Tonkin, Associate Professor, WEHI (Walter and Eliza Hall Institute of Medical Research)

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

The average Australian visits a community pharmacy 18 times a year – more than any other health service.

Pharmacies will only get more important as Australia’s population gets older and sicker, and more scripts are dispensed.

But policy failures are holding the sector back. Vested interests control decision-making. Prices and services aren’t based on evidence. And regulations block competition, innovation and discounting.

A new Grattan Institute report shows how to set the pharmacy sector up for the future.

Secret backroom deals

Australian pharmacy policy is a case study in bad governance.

Pharmacies are funded and regulated through Community Pharmacy Agreements negotiated between the federal government and the Pharmacy Guild of Australia.

The Guild represents most Australian pharmacy owners. It’s also one of the most powerful political lobby groups in the country. In the past five years, it has donated A$2.5 million to political parties, making it the largest donor from the health-care sector.

No other Australian health industry group gets to negotiate its own funding behind closed doors, with no public evidence to justify the decisions. These opaque negotiations should be replaced with independent, transparent, policy decisions that are based on evidence.

It looks like we’re paying too much

When a pharmacy dispenses a Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme (PBS) medicine, it gets fees to cover labour, administration and handling. The patient pays up to the maximum co-payment, and the government pays the rest.

Like so much in pharmacy policy, the dispensing fees are set through negotiation with the guild, with no public data to justify the numbers. As result, we can’t know if the price is right – but there are signs it’s too high.

Funding for each script has increased even as e-prescriptions and automation have slashed the labour involved in dispensing. The guild’s own data suggest member profits have more than doubled in real terms over the past decade.

The fix is clear. Government funding shouldn’t be negotiated at all. Like for public hospitals and aged care, it should be determined by the Independent Health and Aged Care Pricing Authority, based on real cost data.

For patients, discounts on PBS medicines are restricted by complex rules. Those rules depend on how much a medicine costs in total, counting funding from both patients and the government.

For the cheapest medicines, discounting is allowed. For the most expensive, it’s banned outright. For those in the middle, pharmacies can offer discounts, but only if they give up all their government funding for that script.

In 2015, an optional $1 discount on the maximum patient out-of-pocket was introduced, but it’s being phased out. It should be reinstated and increased over time.

Some claim it’s unfair if some patients get a discount when others don’t. People in areas with little competition between pharmacies are more likely to miss out. But these aren’t surcharges – total fees are capped – and discounts in one pharmacy don’t come at the expense of patients in another.

Even if dispensing should be restricted, the rules we have, which block discounting for some medicines and not others, make little sense.

Services need to be good value

Proposals to expand the services that pharmacies can offer – to include things such as prescribing medicines and chronic disease management – have generated heated debate.

The guild and pharmacist workforce groups say more pharmacy services is a commonsense solution to growing demand for primary health care. But medical bodies warn it would fragment care and risk patient safety.

The evidence shows it’s not so black and white.

International studies show pharmacists can safely provide a range of services, including prescribing, and that these services are popular with patients.

But with rapidly growing health-care demand and spending, services must also offer good value for money. Here the evidence is much weaker. That’s because pharmacies pose unique risks to value.

Walk-in appointments mean some conditions are treated that would have resolved on their own. There is a risk of duplicating GP care. And a retail setting creates commercial incentives to promote unnecessary care.

Only one new service has enough cost-effectiveness evidence for a national roll-out: prescribing for uncomplicated urinary tract infections.

International evidence for some other services is promising. But dozens of government-funded trials have failed to show their cost-effectiveness here.

The federal government should coordinate stronger national trials that focus on the most promising services, such as treating shingles and prescribing contraception.

Get pharmacists to work alongside GPs

It’s time to scale up a new type of “integrated pharmacist”. Instead of dispensing, they work in general practice alongside GPs to provide medicine reviews and patient education.

The United Kingdom and Canada already fund these positions at scale. Australia should too, with government funding for pharmacists in general practice and Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisations.

Unleash competition

Pharmacies are private businesses that receive billions of dollars in government funding. In return, they should face competition that promotes improved efficiency, quality and convenience – like other businesses.

But location rules dictate how close a new pharmacy can open to an existing one, and how far an existing one can move.

Several European countries lifted similar restrictions in the late 1990s and early 2000s. The result was more pharmacies, longer opening hours, and, in several cases, lower prices.

Ownership rules ban anyone but pharmacists from owning a pharmacy. This is supposedly to ensure pharmacies prioritise patient care. But we don’t apply this rule anywhere else. Standards of care are upheld by clinician training, registration and accountability, regardless of who owns the business. Pharmacists already carry those obligations.

Together, location and ownership rules protect a small group of incumbents from having to compete on prices or quality.

The government should scrap these rules, and ask the competition watchdog to design competition safeguards, alongside independent reporting on quality and outcomes.

Future pharmacy

The current Community Pharmacy Agreement expires in mid 2029. Three years is enough time to collect cost data, start trials, legislate competition reforms, and set up quality monitoring.

If the federal government acts now, the current agreement – the eighth – should be the last.

Peter Breadon, Program Director, Health and Aged Care, Grattan Institute; Mia Jessurun, Associate, Disability Program, Grattan Institute, and Molly Chapman, Associate, Health Program, Grattan Institute

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

More children under five years old should be able to be vaccinated in pharmacies from January 2027 under a range of measures designed to boost vaccine coverage announced in this year’s federal budget.

Other measures include funding to send families SMS reminders and targeted information when their child’s vaccines are due.

These measures aim to stem a decline in childhood vaccine coverage we’ve seen since 2020.

What’s the issue?

Vaccine coverage in Australian children has been steadily declining since 2020. The latest data show a drop in fully vaccinated 12-month-olds from 94.8% in 2020 to 90.5% in 2025.

On-time vaccination (getting a routine vaccine within 30 days of the recommended age) has dropped even further compared with levels before the COVID pandemic.

In 2025, nearly two in five children received the first dose of measles-mumps-rubella (MMR) vaccine (recommended at 12 months old) late. One in five children received their second dose of a diphtheria-tetanus-pertussis (DTP)-containing vaccine late.

Two out of ten adolescents had not received a human papillomavirus (HPV) vaccine dose by 15 years of age. Three out of ten had not received an adolescent dose of meningococcal ACWY vaccine by 17 years of age.

Return of ‘old foes’

The declines in coverage are occurring at a time when we have seen a global rise in vaccine preventable diseases.

Measles cases have risen globally and led to the loss of measles elimination status in many countries, including the United Kingdom and Canada. In Australia, there have already been more than 100 measles cases this year.

We’re battling Australia’s worst diphtheria outbreak in decades with more than 425 cases in 2026 (mostly in the Northern Territory and Western Australia). This is a scenario that could be curbed by vaccines.

This, coupled with the detection of polio in sewage in Western Australia, is a timely reminder to make sure you and your children are up to date with your routine vaccines.

Why the decline?

There are many reasons why vaccination coverage is falling, including:

• a decline in trust of health-care providers
• concerns about safety and efficacy of vaccines
• proliferation of online health-related misinformation
• practical barriers (such as out-of-pocket costs, convenience and access to vaccine providers)
• a shortage of doctors, nurses and Aboriginal health workers, especially in rural areas, making it harder to get appointments or access walk-in clinics.

A 2025 national survey asked parents of children under five about barriers to vaccination. More than half of parents of partially vaccinated children said vaccines were unsafe and did not trust information about vaccines from healthcare providers.

A survey of Australian parents looked at the impact of the COVID pandemic on trust and confidence in routine vaccinations. It found that between 2017 and 2023 there was an increase in the proportions of parents expressing ideas about childhood vaccinations that have been shown to be incorrect. These included that vaccine ingredients were unsafe, vaccines cause autism and children received too many vaccines.

Are there safety concerns?

The vaccines recommended and used in the childhood national immunisation program a decade ago are essentially the same ones used today.

Australia has about 300,000 births recorded annually, with an estimated coverage of 90% for infant vaccines. This means about 2.5 million infants have received vaccines over the past decade since 2015.

Australia also has a comprehensive system to detect serious safety signals. If there were any serious issues related to national immunisation program vaccines over this time, we’d have spotted them by now – we haven’t.

How will the new measures help?

Family life is busy so being able to get your kids vaccinated at pharmacies free of charge will hopefully make it easier to stay on top of vaccinations and get vaccinated on time.

This year, the new nasal flu vaccine, registered for children aged two to under 18 years, is available in some pharmacies. However, access and eligible ages for free flu vaccine vary by jurisdiction.

Currently, children aged five and older can already receive childhood vaccines in pharmacies under the National Immunisation Program Vaccination in Pharmacies program.

From January 1 2027, children under five years should also be able to get their childhood vaccines in pharmacies in the new expanded program. A health department spokesperson confirmed to The Conversation that at this stage, participating pharmacies would start doing so from next year, where state and territory legislation permitted it.

These timely initiatives target barriers to accessing vaccination. So they are an important step to stop further declines in coverage and restore community protection against further resurgence of vaccine preventable disease.

Nicholas Wood, Professor, The Children's Hospital at Westmead Clinical School and Sydney Infectious Diseases Institute, University of Sydney and Lucy Deng, Paediatrician and Clinical Senior Lecturer, Children's Hospital Westmead Clinical School, University of Sydney

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

Earlier today, the ABC flagged a shift in their position on generative artificial intelligence (AI) use in their news production. Despite previous caution, a recent deal with US tech company Anthropic has opened the door for ABC staff to bring Claude AI into their broadcasting news work.

For now, the scope of this inclusion is limited to about 100 employees. However, the ABC has signalled a willingness to expand this scope to include other tasks. The broadcaster will also hire specialists to help with AI adoption.

The broadcaster is also piloting conversion of regional radio bulletins into articles with its own AI tool developed by the ABC.

The goal is to free up time for staff to engage in other core journalistic work, such as investigations, while also expanding the ABC’s production capabilities.

Australians have a distinctive distrust of AI tools, so it remains to be seen how the public will react to this change. On the other hand, the decision tracks with a long history of editors and journalists being early adopters of tech innovations.

Journalists already use various data tools. And it’s possible to use generative AI to augment journalistic work in valuable and unprecedented ways.

However, this comes at a time when journalism faces crises of sustainability for journalists and news – problems AI can as easily exacerbate as remedy.

The original tech-heads?

Journalists and news producers have long had not only a vested interest in innovations that might improve their busy workflows, but also a broad curiosity about the cutting edge of tools and technologies.

Generative AI in chatbot form has only made headlines in the past three years. But journalists have saved time by using automated systems and “robo-writing” to convert data into simple news stories for over a decade. In one 2016 study, readers even rated computer-written articles as “more credible and higher in journalistic expertise”.

Nevertheless, with rampant tech adoption also come concerns that some innovations are more disruptive than beneficial.

For example, social media and analytics introduced the almighty algorithm as an unwelcome additional editor to journalists’ work, undermining their autonomy.

Generative AI introduces a new threat that raises existential concerns for the sustainability of news.

Disrupting and displacing journalism

Journalists are more worried about generative AI than they were with other automated tools in the past – because chatbots can seemingly write just like a human can. In response, they’ve been emphasising their indispensable role as gatekeepers who convey news to the public.

So if organisations choose to use AI to help produce journalism, a key question is how to handle ethics and concerns over quality. Time-poor professionals in fields from law to medicine have found themselves burned when their generative AI went off-script and crafted plausible fictions.

This potentially raises a bigger threat for journalists. The profession is already facing a crisis of public mistrust, including in Australia. Relying on AI for content generation opens the door to missteps that news producers like the ABC can ill afford.

But these risks can be mitigated if newsrooms dedicate additional effort to verifying and curating the AI content. This makes journalists’ roles as gatekeepers more important than ever. Yet it also relies on audiences having a relationship with journalists and appreciating their judgement and analysis in the first place.

These efforts represent a new kind of work, one that shifts the lens away from the forms of production that have long been central to journalism.

A space of opportunities

Conversely, the latest AI tools do offer journalists new ways to augment their work. The large language models and other AI tools the public uses to generate office emails or funny cat pictures have been used by journalists globally to engage in unprecedented investigations and news production.

BBC’s in-depth coverage of Russia’s presence in Ukraine leveraged AI to dig through troves of text and video. This provided insights that would have been impractical or impossible to achieve through manual methods.

Global South news producers have used AI to overcome endemic resourcing challenges. They’ve been able to repurpose and translate content, extending the capacities of already stretched news reporters.

Generative AI can save time. Using AI tools for routine news production can make room for journalists to improve their relationships with audiences, focus on quality, and make a stronger case for journalism’s distinctive value.

Displacing journalists or displacing journalism?

These changes at the ABC are coming at a time when funding and resources for journalism are becoming increasingly scarce. The business models that have long underpinned our media system were rendered unsustainable by big tech, while Australian news organisations are having to compete with overabundant online media from across the world.

AI tools bring potential for further displacement. AI summaries served by search engines summarise news content instead of directing online traffic to the original news source.

Additionally, AI-generated news obscures Australian media outlets or redirects users to larger international news organisations – particularly those in the US. Newsrooms are weighing their options on how to best use AI even as they strategise how to compete with it as a source for news.

The ABC’s goals for using AI in their news work fits a long-established historical trend toward keeping journalism on the cutting edge of what technological innovations can offer.

The efficiency gains and expanded capabilities for journalism are real, and audiences can appreciate its outputs even as they distrust the technology itself.

The question remains whether the ABC can channel AI into benefits for the public in a way that does not sacrifice their commitment to news quality or the public’s esteem for the public broadcaster.

Correction: this article was updated to clarify that Claude AI is not being used for converting radio bulletins to text, but instead the ABC uses its own AI tool for this pilot.

Timothy Koskie, Postdoctoral Researcher, School of Media and Communications, University of Sydney

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

Seventy years ago, Earth had only one satellite: the Moon. Now it has more than 15,000 – about 10,000 of which are owned by Elon Musk’s SpaceX. The world’s first trillionaire plans to launch one million more satellites, each roughly 70 metres long and 20 metres wide, that would form a data centre megaconstellation.

But more satellites means more space junk, which is already threatening critical infrastructure we rely on every day.

Addressing this problem effectively requires work across three fronts: technology, policy and philosophy.

The race to the Moon and beyond is accelerating. Some say it’s for the benefit of all humanity. But is it really? In this seven-part series, we explore what our future in space will look like, how we might travel and survive out there, and what’s needed to stop a catastrophe from happening.

13 million cane toads worth of space junk

Space junk is everything in Earth orbit that doesn’t have a purpose. It includes discarded rocket bodies, defunct and broken satellites, and fragments down to nanoparticle size. There are 36,000 pieces of junk larger than ten centimetres and tens of millions of smaller pieces and particles.

The estimated weight of all of this junk is 13,486 tonnes, the equivalent of 13 million adult cane toads. The United States, Russia (as well as the former USSR), and China are the biggest contributors.

Space junk is dangerous because it’s orbiting at almost unimaginable speeds – 7 kilometres per second on average in low Earth orbit. A collision can break up a satellite and create even more space junk.

The worst case scenario is called Kessler syndrome. Each collision creates space junk which collides with other space junk, in an endless cascade. It could make regions of Earth orbit unusable, or possibly even cut Earth off from space.

Human spaceflight is already threatened by the debris around Earth. The International Space Station manoeuvres to avoid collision at least once a year.

The default solution is to let space junk get dragged into the atmosphere where it incinerates. For example, at least one Starlink satellite burns up in the atmosphere every day.

But this is now creating enough soot and alumina particles to have an impact on the ozone layer, which protects us from harmful ultraviolet radiation.

New technology can help

Technological solutions involve active debris removal, and strategic satellite and mission design.

Active debris removal gets rid of old spacecraft by tipping them into the atmosphere or pushing them into a “graveyard” orbit" which isn’t used by functioning satellites. There’s even a hit list of the 50 most dangerous spacecraft – mainly abandoned rocket bodies.

Debris removal technologies include nets, magnets, tethers, sails, slingshots, and harpoons. Very few have been successfully tested in space.

New satellites can be made from materials that are more durable, so they last longer – or more disposable, so they can be used and quickly de-orbited.

Japan has been testing wood as a spacecraft material. Other options include refuelling spacecraft to extend their life.

Better policies

Policies are also changing to focus more on satellite end-of-life disposal.

The old standard was that spacecraft should not remain in original mission orbits for more than 25 years. Now it’s five years. The disadvantage to this policy is that more spacecraft will burn up in the atmosphere.

The European Space Agency is spearheading a zero debris policy, and the Inter-Agency Debris Co-ordination Committee issues debris mitigation guidelines. There’s also an international standard for space debris mitigation.

Better international co-operation could be achieved through space traffic management. Space traffic management aims to establish “road rules” for avoiding congestion in orbit, by limiting debris creation, co-ordinating orbital activities and sharing information. However, a globally agreed space traffic management system doesn’t yet exist.

All the same, satellite operators are starting to take their environmental responsibilities seriously. But is this enough?

Rethinking space

Old ways of thinking about space have not served humanity well.

The ideologies driving the space junk problem are competition for prestige and orbital resources, and the belief that there are no moral obligations to the space environment. Often, orbital space is not seen as an environment at all because it is without life.

These beliefs coincide in the “techbro” space, in which billionaires are competing to launch satellite megaconstellations. Research has shown caring for the environment is not seen as masculine.

Earth and space are no longer separate domains. Space junk should be managed as a more-than-planetary interconnected system extending from the spacecraft cemetery at the bottom of the ocean, through the atmosphere, to all Earth and lunar orbits. The Moon’s surface is also being impacted by space junk.

Philosopher Val Plumwood’s co-participation approach to environmental management provides a new perspective. We give the environment what it needs to flourish, instead of depleting it to the point of collapse.

The jury is still out on whether Kessler Syndrome will eventually cut us off from space. Perhaps new myths and stories will arise around the space junk people see burning through the atmosphere. Watching the skies for “cultural meteorites” is becoming part of the shared human experience.

Alice Gorman, Associate Professor in Archaeology and Space Studies, Flinders University

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

The Artemis II mission to the Moon has reignited humanity’s desire for exploration and renewed our perspective of Earth. It has also revived our fascination with space food.

As space missions become longer and more ambitious, food in space has emerged as a crucial priority, intrinsically linked to brain health, culture, sustainability and agriculture.

These challenges are driving innovation, inspiring practical solutions for life both on Earth and beyond.

The race to the Moon and beyond is accelerating. Some say it’s for the benefit of all humanity. But is it really? In this seven-part series, we explore what our future in space will look like, how we might travel and survive out there, and what’s needed to stop a catastrophe from happening.

Once an engineering problem

In the early days of human space travel, eating was treated largely as an engineering problem rather than an aesthetic one. Astronauts survived on pureed meals squeezed from aluminium tubes, and on freeze-dried cubes.

In 1973, Skylab, the United States’ first experimental space station in low Earth orbit, introduced the first truly functional space galley allowing for the preparation and cooking of meals.

Since then nutrition and food have remained secondary concerns, often reduced to issues of mass and storage efficiency.

Perhaps the most famous early space food controversy occurred during the Gemini 3 mission in 1965, when astronaut John Young secretly smuggled a corned beef sandwich into orbit, only for crumbs to float through the capsule in what became known as a cautionary tale. The crumbs from the sandwich could have resulted in catastrophic errors, if they had jammed or impacted any of the onboard equipment.

Today researchers are no longer asking whether astronauts can eat in space, but instead: how does the space environment alter how food tastes? How can nutrition optimise astronaut performance and cognitive function? How can food growth systems support sustainability during long-distance space exploration missions?

And perhaps most importantly, what does human food culture look like beyond Earth? Because even in space, life is about more than survival – there must still be room for small luxuries.

Spoilt for pre-packaged choice

Astronauts are currently spoilt for choice when it comes to pre-packaged foods aboard the International Space Station, with the current menu offering a selection of more than 200 meal and beverage options. The catch though, is that aboard their missions, they are only allowed 8-10 of those different choices. This means that during months-long missions, food fatigue can kick in.

But one thing is still missing – daily fresh produce.

The astronauts are treated to a few pieces of fresh fruit each resupply mission every few months. But this certainly doesn’t compare to the fresh food us humans on Earth have access to.

Ready-to-eat fresh food in space has become a common theme of our research in recent years.

We’ve been exploring the viability of yoghurt production, mushroom growth and even various microgreens on board the International Space Station. Microgreens are the young, tender seedlings of edible vegetables or herbs.

This research explores everything from the basics of nutritional properties of the food, to how the biological systems may have changed in orbit.

In a microgravity environment, producing foods as basic as yoghurt, mushrooms and microgreens becomes exponentially more complicated. Limited resources, stresses on the biological systems, and constrained space are all major considerations.

But these are challenges we must overcome, especially as we think of the future of space exploration where we will no longer be able to rely entirely on prepackaged meals.

More than nutrition

There are serious concerns for humans’ gut health over long space flights. Increasing fresh, space-cultivated foods might help to address this.

Above nutrition, food is vital to human culture. Shared meals and the art of preparing even the most basic meals play deeply into the mental health of humans, and this is especially true aboard a space station.

Even kids recognise the importance of food as a cultural tool. When British astronaut Tim Peake challenged students to create a meal for him on the International Space Station, many thought about the meaning different foods had in their own lives and what they didn’t want astronauts to miss out on.

This human connection is vital. It helps us appreciate how space on a fundamental level is a human endeavour.

As we look beyond low-Earth orbit and set our sights on a Moon base in the 2030s, we must consider both nutrition and the overall experience of living and eating for the astronauts on lunar missions that will last weeks or even months.

Through the Artemis II mission we saw first-hand the simple joys that came from shared meals. For example, the crew celebrated their far side of the Moon crossing with Canadian maple cream cookies. We even saw a tub of Nutella floating through the capsule.

Food cannot just be functional; it needs to serve multiple purposes. Sometimes, it should simply bring joy.

The future of space is uncertain, but one thing we can count on is that food is one of the vital parts of our continued exploration.

Sara Webb, Associate Dean of Innovation and Engagement, Swinburne University of Technology; Jac Cotttee, PhD Student, School of Science, Computing and Emerging Technologies, Swinburne University of Technology, and Rebecca Allen, Co-Director Space Technology and Industry Institute, Swinburne University of Technology

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