As grocery prices continue to rise, many Australians are struggling to afford healthy food and are looking for alternatives to the big supermarket chains.

The recent supermarkets inquiry, run by the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, confirmed Australia’s grocery sector is highly concentrated, with limited competition and rising retail margins. In regional and remote areas, consumers often face higher prices and fewer choices.

One option growing in popularity around the country is the community food co-operative, or “food co-op”.

Food co-ops are local not-for-profit or member-owned groups where people join together to buy food in bulk, usually straight from farmers or wholesalers. These co-ops can take different forms, including shops, neighbourhood-based hubs, or box delivery models. They typically offer a range of foods such as fresh fruit and vegetables, bread, dairy products, eggs and pantry staples.

By co-ordinating their orders, members can reduce food costs, limit packaging waste, and avoid supermarket markups. Co-ops can also help lower transport emissions by reducing long supply chains.

We’ve been researching the benefits of food co-ops. We’ve found this model could reduce food insecurity and increase people’s intake of fruit and vegetables.

How are food co-ops run?

Some co-ops are owned and run by their members. Any surplus or profits are generally reinvested into the co-op or shared through lower prices, improved services, or support for local community initiatives.

Other co-ops are managed by not-for-profit organisations focused on improving food access for whole communities.

More recently, digital platforms and apps have made it even easier for people to start or join co-ops and connect with local growers.

Regardless of the model, co-ops are guided by values of co-operation, fairness and community benefit, rather than profit.

What does the research say?

We recently published a study which adds to a growing body of evidence showing food co-ops can play an important role in improving diet and reducing food insecurity.

Food insecurity is when someone doesn’t have reliable access to affordable, nutritious food. It can mean skipping meals, eating less fresh produce, relying on cheap processed foods, or experiencing ongoing stress about being able to afford groceries.

We surveyed more than 2,200 members of Box Divvy, a community-based food co-op operating across New South Wales and the Australian Capital Territory. Within this co-op, members join local “hubs”, pool their orders for groceries through an app, and collect their food from a nearby coordinator.

To measure food security, we used an internationally recognised survey that asks about things such as running out of food or skipping meals due to cost.

Before joining the co-op, more than 50% of surveyed members were classified as “food insecure”. This is well above the national average (estimated to be around 22%). It suggests many people turning to food co-ops are already under significant financial pressure.

After joining, food insecurity dropped by nearly 23%. The rate of severe food insecurity – where people skip meals and regularly experience hunger – more than halved.

These changes were accompanied by improved diets. We asked participants to report how many serves of fruit and vegetables they usually ate in a day. On average, members increased their vegetable intake by 3.3 serves per week and their fruit intake by 2.5 serves.

The benefits were even more pronounced for people experiencing severe food insecurity, who tend to have poorer diets overall. They ate 5.5 more serves of vegetables and 4.4 more serves of fruit per week while using the co-op.

These are meaningful improvements that bring people closer to meeting national dietary guidelines. This matters because eating more fruit and vegetables is linked to a lower risk of chronic diseases such as heart disease, type 2 diabetes, and some cancers.

Other research has reflected similar findings. A 2020 Sydney-based study found co-op members were more likely to meet the recommended servings of fruit and vegetables than non-members.

Another study of The Community Grocer, a Melbourne-based social enterprise, found their weekly markets offered produce around 40% cheaper than nearby retailers and improved healthy food access for culturally diverse and low-income customers.

Internationally, a Canadian study of a community-based food box program – similar in structure to some co-ops – reported higher fruit and vegetable intake among regular users. It found a decline in intake for those who stopped using the service.

In Wales, disadvantaged communities that used co-ops reported better access to fresh produce. Similarly in New Zealand, co-op participants reported better access to healthy food.

In qualitative research, people who have experienced food insecurity say co-ops offer a more dignified alternative to food relief by offering choice and control over what’s on the table.

Where to next?

Despite clear benefits, food co-ops remain largely overlooked in Australian policy. This is at a time when national conversations about price gouging and supermarket power highlight the need for viable, community-based alternatives.

Meanwhile, food co-ops also face operational challenges. For example, regulatory requirements can vary significantly between local councils and states. This makes it difficult to establish, scale or replicate successful co-ops.

Government support could help co-ops grow where they’re needed most. Some measures might include:

• seed funding and small grants to establish co-ops in low-income communities
• subsidised memberships or vouchers for eligible households
• investment in digital tools and logistics to support efficient operations, particularly in rural and remote areas
• simplifying regulatory processes.

As the Feeding Australia strategy develops under the Albanese government, there’s an opportunity to consider how community models such as food co-ops could complement broader national efforts to improve food security and strengthen local food systems.

Katherine Kent, Senior Lecturer in Nutrition and Dietetics, University of Wollongong; Cristy Brooks, Associate Lecturer in Interprofessional Health Sciences, Western Sydney University, and Freya MacMillan, Professor, Translational Health Research Institute, Western Sydney University

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

Wet and shivering, I rose from the outrigger of a Polynesian voyaging canoe. We’d been at sea all afternoon and most of the night. I’d hoped to get a little rest, but rain, wind and an absence of flat space made sleep impossible. My companions didn’t even try.

It was May 1972, and I was three months into doctoral research on one of the world’s most remote islands. Anuta is the easternmost populated outpost in the Solomon Islands. It is a half-mile in diameter, 75 miles (120 kilometers) from its nearest inhabited neighbor, and remains one of the few communities where inter-island travel in outrigger canoes is regularly practiced.

My hosts organized a bird-hunting expedition to Patutaka, an uninhabited monolith 30 miles away, and invited me to join the team.

We spent 20 hours en route to our destination, followed by two days there, and sailed back with a 20-knot tail wind. That adventure led to decades of anthropological research on how Pacific Islanders traverse the open sea aboard small craft, without “modern” instruments, and safely arrive at their intended destinations.

Wayfinding techniques vary, depending upon geographic and environmental conditions. Many, however, are widespread. They include mental mapping of the islands in the sailors’ navigational universe and the location of potential destinations in relation to the movement of stars, ocean currents, winds and waves.

Western interest in Pacific voyaging

Disney’s two “Moana” movies have shined a recent spotlight on Polynesian voyaging. European admiration for Pacific mariners, however, dates back centuries.

In 1768, the French explorer Louis Antoine de Bougainville named Sāmoa the “Navigators’ Islands.” The famed British sea captain James Cook reported that Indigenous canoes were as fast and agile as his ships. He welcomed Tupaia, a navigational expert from Ra‘iātea, onto his ship and documented Tupaia’s immense geographic knowledge.

In 1938, Māori scholar Te Rangi Hīroa (aka Sir Peter Buck) authored “Vikings of the Sunrise,” outlining Pacific exploration as portrayed in Polynesian legend.

In 1947, Thor Heyerdahl, a Norwegian explorer and amateur archaeologist, crossed from Peru to the Tuamotu Islands aboard a balsa wood raft that he named Kon-Tiki, sparking further interest and inspiring a sequence of experimental voyages.

Ten years later Andrew Sharp, a New Zealand-based historian and prominent naysayer, argued that accurate navigation over thousands of miles without instruments is impossible. Others responded with ethnographic studies showing that such voyages were both historic fact and current practice. In 1970, Thomas Gladwin published his findings on the Micronesian island of Polowat in “East Is a Big Bird.” Two years later, David Lewis’ “We, the Navigators” documented wayfinding techniques across much of Oceania.

Many anthropologists, along with Indigenous mariners, have built on Gladwin’s and Lewis’ work.

A final strand has been experimental voyaging. Most celebrated is the work of the Polynesian Voyaging Society. They constructed a double-hull voyaging canoe named Hōkūle‘a, built from modern materials but following a traditional design. In 1976, led by Micronesian navigator Mau Piailug, they sailed Hōkūle‘a over 2,500 miles, from Hawai‘i to Tahiti, without instruments. In 2017, Hōkūle‘a completed a circumnavigation of the planet.

In traversing Earth’s largest ocean, one can travel thousands of miles and see nothing but sky and water in any direction. Absent a magnetic compass, much less GPS, how is it possible to navigate accurately to the intended destination?

Looking to the stars

Most Pacific voyagers rely on celestial navigation. Stars rise in the east, set in the west, and, near the equator, follow a set line of latitude. If a known star either rises or sets directly over the target island, the helmsman can align the vessel with that star.

However, there are complications.

Which stars are visible, as well as their rising and setting points, changes throughout the year. Therefore, navigation requires detailed astronomical understanding.

Also, stars are constantly in motion. One that is positioned directly over the target island will soon either rise too high to be useful or sink below the horizon. Thus, a navigator must seek other stars that follow a similar trajectory and track them as long as they are visible and low on the horizon. Such a sequence of guide stars is often called a “star path.”

Of course, stars may not align precisely with the desired target. In that case, instead of aiming directly toward the guide star, the navigator keeps it at an appropriate angle.

A navigator must modify the vessel’s alignment with the stars to compensate for currents and wind that may push the canoe sideways. This movement is called leeway. Therefore, celestial navigation requires knowledge of the currents’ presence, speed, strength and direction, as well as being able to judge winds’ strength, direction and effect on the canoe.

During daylight, when stars are invisible, the Sun may serve a similar purpose. In early morning and late afternoon, when the Sun is low in the sky, sailors use it to calculate their heading. Clouds, however, sometimes obscure both Sun and stars, in which case voyagers rely on other cues.

Waves, wind and other indicators

A critical indicator is swells. These are waves produced by winds that blow steadily across thousands of miles of open sea. They maintain their direction regardless of temporary or local winds, which produce differently shaped waves called “seas.”

The helmsman, feeling swells beneath the vessel, gleans the proper heading, even in the dark. In some locations, as many as three or four distinct swell patterns may exist; voyagers distinguish them by size, shape, strength and direction in relation to prevailing winds.

Once sailors near their target island, but before it is visible, they must determine its precise location. A common indicator is reflected waves: swells that hit the island and bounce back to sea. The navigator feels reflected waves and sails toward them. Pacific navigators who have spent their lives at sea appear quite confident in their reliance on reflected waves. I, by contrast, find them difficult to differentiate from waves produced directly by the wind.

Certain birds that nest on land and fish at sea are also helpful. In early morning, one assumes they’re flying from the island; in late afternoon, they’re likely returning to their nesting spots.

Navigators sometimes recognize a greenish tint to the sky above a not-yet-visible island. Clouds may gather over a volcanic peak.

And sailors in the Solomon Islands’ Vaeakau-Taumako region report underwater streaks of light known as te lapa, which they say point toward distant islands. One well-known researcher has expressed confidence in te lapa’s existence and utility. Some scholars have suggested that it could be a bioluminescent or electromagnetic phenomenon. On the other hand, despite a year of concerted effort, I was unable to confirm its presence.

Estimating one’s position at sea is another challenge. Stars move along a given parallel and indicate one’s latitude. To gauge longitude, by contrast, requires dead reckoning. Navigators calculate their position by keeping track of their starting point, direction, speed and time at sea.

Some Micronesian navigators estimate their progress through a system known as etak. They visualize the angle between their canoe, pictured as stationary, and a reference island that is off to one side and represented as moving. Western researchers have speculated on how etak works, but there is no consensus yet.

For millennia, Pacific voyagers have relied on techniques such as these to reach thousands of islands, strewn throughout our planet’s largest ocean. They did so without Western instruments. Instead, they held sophisticated knowledge and shared understandings, passed by word of mouth, through countless generations.

Richard (Rick) Feinberg, Professor Emeritus of Anthropology, Kent State University

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

Anzac Day has come and gone again. But – lest we forget – war and its consequences are not confined to single days in the calendar. Nor do we only remember those who fought at Gallipoli more than a century ago.

This gradual expansion of the scope and meaning of April 25 is now about to grow further, with the Anzac Day Amendment Bill currently before parliament. Its goal is to make the commemoration “broader and more inclusive than it currently is”.

Remembrance will soon include “other conflicts and persons who have served New Zealand in time of war or in warlike conflicts in the past and in the future that are not currently covered”.

New Zealand personnel who served in United Nations missions, and who fought or died in training, will be recognised, as will civilians who served in war or warlike conflicts. Without doubt, it is an excellent initiative.

The question is, does it go far enough? The obvious omission, if the new law is intended to be “broader” and include past wars, is the conflict that helped shape (and still shapes) the country we are today: the New Zealand Wars.

Of course, including this pivotal period from 1843 to 1872 plays into the politics of today, given the land confiscations and other injustices the New Zealand Wars also represent. The question is whether their inclusion can avoid becoming a culture war in the process.

How Anzac Day has grown

The case for explicitly including the New Zealand Wars is strong. It is thought about 500 British and colonial troops, 250 of their Māori allies (sometimes known as kūpapa), and 2,000 Māori fighting against the Crown died in these conflicts.

It was also during these wars that Australian and New Zealand military cooperation (the earliest form of Anzacs, in a sense) actually began. Around 2,500 Australian men enlisted for irregular New Zealand militia units, many encouraged by the offer of land grants in return for serving.

Furthermore, Anzac Day has gradually grown over time to include wars and military conflicts beyond the tragedy in Turkey, first observed in 1916 when the government gazetted a half-day holiday (later made into a full public holiday in 1921) .

The government again changed the law governing Anzac Day in 1949 to include World War II and the 11,500 New Zealand citizens who died in it. Significantly, it also added the South African/Boer War (which killed 59 New Zealanders), setting a precedent for bringing pre-first world war events into the frame.

In 1966, Anzac Day’s scope grew again to recognise those “who at any time have given their lives for New Zealand and the British Empire or Commonwealth of Nations”. This allowed commemorations to cover the Cold War period, during which New Zealanders were killed in the Malayan Emergency (15), Korea (38) and Vietnam (37).

Remembering without prejudice

The counterargument to including the New Zealand Wars in an expanded Anzac Day might be that we already have a dedicated day of observance: Te Pūtake o te Riri on October 28, the date the Declaration of Independence of the United Tribes of New Zealand (precursor to the Treaty of Waitangi) was signed in 1835.

First observed in 2018, the commemorations take place in different locations each year. And perhaps one day, young New Zealanders will talk about the events at Rangiriri, Gate Pā, Matawhero and Ngātapa in the same way they now talk about Gallipoli, Passchendaele, Crete and Monte Cassino.

But the problem is that a two-tier system seems to have been created. Te Pūtake o te Riri was not made an official holiday and has struggled for wider recognition. While there is some public funding available, it is not on the scale of Anzac Day.

Te Pūtake o te Riri can and will continue to evolve, and it’s focus on the causes and injustices of these conflicts should not be diminished.

But an expanded and more inclusive Anzac Day, which recognises those who fought and died, would add another layer of meaning to a date long enshrined in the national calendar, similar to the way National Memorial Day in the United States encompasses their Civil War.

We are now at a point in history when the injustices of the early colonial government have at least been acknowledged through the Treaty settlement process. It would make sense for the New Zealand Wars to be folded into the Anzac Day Amendment Bill.

The words “lest we forget” should also apply to those who fell in the nation’s third most costly military conflict. That way we can remember all of the fallen, without prejudice.

Public submissions on the Anzac Day Amendment Bill close on Thursday May 22.

Alexander Gillespie, Professor of Law, University of Waikato

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

Inhalers have been key to asthma management since the 1950s. The most common, salbutamol, comes in a familiar blue-coloured inhaler (or “puffer”).

This kind of “rescue inhaler” brings quick relief from asthma symptoms. You may know these inhalers by their brand names such as Ventolin, Asmol or Zempreon.

But there is growing evidence that using this kind of inhaler without treating the underlying condition may not only be ineffective – it could actually increase the risk of an asthma attack.

Next month, the National Asthma Council is releasing updated guidelines that reflect this shift. Here’s what’s changing and what you need to know.

What is a bronchodilator?

Bronchodilators such as salbutamol act by relaxing smooth muscle in the airways. While they don’t address inflammation, which is the key cause of asthma, bronchodilators are effective at quickly opening up constricted airways.

This means for people experiencing typical asthma symptoms – such as tightness of the chest and shortness of breath – a puff of salbutamol brings relief within ten minutes. The effect can last up to six hours.

Salbutamol is used by people with asthma and other respiratory conditions, such as chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (which includes chronic bronchitis and/or emphysema). As part of a management plan made with a doctor, salbutamol is used to relieve shortness of breath when it occurs.

In Australia, more than 60% of salbutamol is purchased over the counter (without a prescription) in pharmacies. Many of these purchases may be for people with infrequent asthma symptoms, meaning less than twice a month.

However, we now know there are safer and more effective ways for people with infrequent asthma to manage it in the long term.

So, what’s wrong with using salbutamol?

Treating symptoms is only one part of asthma management. Salbutamol doesn’t address the root cause – why the airways of people who get asthma become constricted in the first place.

It’s a bit like taking pain relief for a swollen elbow without treating the tendonitis causing the pain.

In asthma, chronic inflammation is usually a result of genes and environment interacting.

Some people have airways that overreact to triggers in the environment. These triggers include pollens, moulds and dust mites, or air that is cold or humid.

Over the long term, chronic inflammation can lead to changes in the airways. The airway walls become thicker and produce more mucus, allowing less space for air to flow through them.

Using short-acting treatments such as salbutamol without addressing chronic inflammation in the airways poses risks.

Salbutamol can become less effective with regular use. This means people with shortness of breath don’t gain the relief they expect and need, and paradoxically, their airways may become more “twitchy” (sensitive to environmental triggers) and inflamed. One response to this is people use more salbutamol and the problem is compounded.

Strong data links increased use of short-term inhalers such as salbutamol to higher risk of asthma flare-ups, hospital admissions and even death.

Purchasing three or more salbutamol inhalers per year is considered overuse.

According to asthma guidelines in Australia and globally, needing salbutamol for symptom relief on more than two days a week is an indicator of poorly controlled asthma, requiring review and possibly anti-inflammatory treatment.

What do the new guidelines recommend?

In 2019, the Global Initiative for Asthma, an independent not-for-profit organisation, radically changed its recommendations for salbutamol use. This is based on its committee of asthma experts reviewing the evidence.

Australian asthma guidelines from the National Asthma Council are set to follow suit.

The council’s 2025 Australian Asthma Handbook now states that salbutamol alone is inadequate treatment for asthma in adults or adolescents.

Previously, the guidelines recommended people with infrequent symptoms to use salbutamol when needed and “alone” – that is, without an anti-inflammatory preventer.

The new recommendations specifically warn against anyone with asthma using a short-acting bronchodilator such as salbutamol by itself, due to the increased health risks mentioned above.

People with asthma who use salbutamol, for example, should also use an anti-inflammatory treatment that provides preventive cover, such as an inhaled corticosteroid.

The 2025 Australian Asthma Handbook now recommends anti-inflammatory relievers from day one when it comes to asthma treatment in adults and adolescents.

These inhalers contain, in a single dose (one puff), both a bronchodilator (to relieve symptoms) and a low-dose anti-inflammatory corticosteroid (to treat underlying inflammation).

They are recommended instead of salbutamol-only inhalers for symptom relief, even for those whose symptoms are infrequent.

When used in place of salbutamol-only inhalers, anti-inflammatory relievers have demonstrated improvements in quality of life for people with asthma, as well as lower risks of hospitalisations and death.

In the case of children with asthma, global guidelines emphasise the use of anti-inflammatory inhalers and discourage over-reliance on bronchodilators.

Will I need to change my inhaler?

Currently, combination anti-inflammatory relievers are only available with a prescription from a doctor. These prescriptions with repeats can allow people with asthma up to 12 months of treatment.

In Australia you can still buy salbutamol in a pharmacy without a prescription, after consultation with a pharmacist.

However, if you have asthma and you’re concerned about the new guidance, you should speak to your pharmacist or doctor for advice.

Stephen Hughes, Lecturer in Pharmacy Practice, University of Sydney and Bandana Saini, Professor, Pharmacy Practice, University of Sydney

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

Populist rhetoric targeting young offenders often leads to kneejerk punitive responses, such as stricter bail laws and lowering the age of criminal responsibility. This, in turn, has led to more young people being held in detention.

In Australia, the number of young people held in detention facilities increased by 8% (from 784 to 845) between the June quarter of 2023 and the June quarter of 2024.

But what if some of these young people were treated and helped, rather than incarcerated? A series of recently published studies examining mental health in the youth justice population suggests treatment would be more beneficial than punitive measures – some of which may even promote persistent offending.

Increased incarceration

New South Wales saw a 31% increase in young people in detention between 2023 and 2024.

Increases in youth detention numbers have also been reported in Queensland, the Australian Capital Territory, Tasmania and South Australia over the same period.

About 60% of young people in detention are First Nations youth.

Custody as a catalyst

Young people in the justice system have significantly higher rates of mental ill-health and adverse childhood experiences than their peers in the general population.

However, less clear is how involvement in the justice system, particularly custody, affects the severity and trajectory of these mental health issues over time.

Our team examined how exposure to the justice system affected mental health among young people in NSW. We analysed administrative health and justice data over two years post-supervision.

These data came from more than 1,500 justice-involved youth who participated in the Young People in Custody Health Survey in 2003, 2009 and 2015 and Young People on Community Orders Health Survey between 2003 and 2006.

We found young people who had spent time in custody faced markedly higher rates of subsequent psychiatric hospitalisation compared with those supervised in the community.

The risk of psychiatric hospitalisations was higher for those with multiple custody episodes. This demonstrates the significant negative impact of incarceration on the mental health of young people long after they are released.

We also examined how the impact of custody on psychiatric hospitalisations differed by age.

We found psychiatric hospitalisation rates were similar among youth aged 14–17 years who had been supervised in the community, compared with those aged 18 and older.

However, youth aged 14–17 who were placed in custody were hospitalised at significantly higher rates than their older peers aged 18 and above.

This suggests incarceration is particularly harmful for younger offenders.

How does this affect crime?

When we examined the long-term consequences of youth detention on subsequent offending, we found conviction during adolescence, especially before the age of 14, significantly increased the likelihood of later entering the adult prison system.

Those who were incarcerated during adolescence faced a fivefold increase in the risk of being incarcerated as an adult, compared with young people who’d never been in custody.

This suggests it may be beneficial to delay the involvement of young people in the justice system to help prevent repeat offending in the future.

Breaking the cycle

So what can be done to help?

In NSW, laws allow young people with mental health conditions to be diverted from judicial processes into treatment. Such laws for young people also exist in other states, although specific models vary.

While research shows those diverted into treatment have a lower risk of reoffending, less than half of eligible youth receive this option.

How do we help those who miss out? Our studies examined whether going to mental health services voluntarily (without a court order) could help reduce recidivism.

Among boys who had been in custody, we found they were 40% less likely to reoffend if they received mental health treatment after release than those who did not receive such treatment.

A similar, but larger, benefit was observed among boys supervised in the community. There, mental health treatment was associated with a 57% reduction in reoffending risk.

Evidence-based reform

Evidence shows punitive measures do not deter youth crime, but instead are likely to perpetuate cycles of offending into adulthood.

Policymakers should reimagine youth justice to protect young people and create real pathways to rehabilitation.

Raising the minimum age of criminal responsibility to delay the onset of formal contact with the justice system aligns with developmental science and prevents early criminalisation of young people.

Enhancing routine mental health screening in the justice system and expanding access to diversion programs is warranted.

Our findings on the benefits of routine mental health treatment highlight the potential for more integrated approaches. When combined with wraparound services for health and education, they could be even more effective.

As detaining a young person costs around $1 million annually, mental health treatment-based approaches make sound financial sense too.

Emaediong I. Akpanekpo, PhD Candidate, School of Population Health, UNSW Sydney and Tony Butler, Professor and Program Head, Justice Health Research Program, UNSW Sydney

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

If you have a job in Australia, you’ve probably noticed each of your payslips has a section telling you how much superannuation will be paid alongside your wages.

But while your wages are deposited in your bank account however frequently you receive a payslip – whether that’s weekly, fortnightly or monthly – it’s a different story for your super.

Under current superannuation laws, employers are only required to pay super into an employee’s nominated fund at least four times a year – 28 days after the end of each quarter – although many do pay more regularly.

But that’s set to change. From July 1 2026, new “payday super” rules will require employers to pay super into the employee’s fund within seven days of wages.

This reform was announced in the 2023–24 federal budget, allowing employers, superannuation funds and software providers three years to set up compliant systems. But it hasn’t yet been legislated.

Now, some industry groups are calling for a further delay of up to two years. So, who are these reforms designed to benefit? And does business really need more time to get ready?

Missing or incorrect super

Missing or incorrect super payments present a huge problem for Australia’s retirement system.

The Super Members Council claims one in four Australians are missing out on the correct amount of superannuation contributions.

The Australian Taxation Office (ATO) estimates A$5.2 billion of guaranteed superannuation went unpaid in 2021–22.

This can be due to payroll errors, misclassification under an award or, in extreme cases, non-payment of superannuation as a form of wage theft. All these things can be harder to spot when super is paid less frequently.

Rules only requiring super to be paid quarterly may have been appropriate 30 years ago, in the early days of the superannuation guarantee. Business systems were often not computerised, and wages were often paid in cash.

Times have changed

Payroll systems are now much more sophisticated.

From 2018, the federal government rolled out the single-touch payroll program that requires employers to report wages in real time, including details of superannuation guarantee withheld from an employee’s wages.

The government is already benefiting from the increased automation of data submitted through this system.

Single-touch payroll data helps improve official labour statistics and provides up-to-date income information for employees through the MyGov portal.

Sending real-time data to Centrelink addresses one of the major flaws underpinning the Robodebt scandal, which used an averaging system to estimate fortnightly earnings.

Benefits for employees

In simple terms, the coming changes are basically a change in timing. Payments will be transferred to an employee’s super fund in the same way their wages are transferred directly to their bank account.

Once bedded down, the changes will provide benefits across the board to employees, employers and the government.

Currently, if an employee believes the correct amount of superannuation is not being paid to their fund, they are expected to follow this up directly with the ATO.

Unfortunately, many employees presume the withheld amount shown on the payslip has already been paid into their super account.

Unless a member is actively monitoring their super balance, they may be unaware that the amount shown on their payslip is not being paid into their fund on a timely basis.

Benefits for business

Employers should also benefit from these changes, many of whom already do transfer superannuation when wages are paid.

Currently, superannuation guarantee payments are run on a separate payment cycle to payroll, coinciding with payment of tax liabilities. If payments are on the same cycle as payroll, it should make budgeting easier, and ensure the separate super payment run is not overlooked.

This assumes, of course, that the business is not relying on unpaid superannuation contributions to manage their cash flows elsewhere in the business. If that is the case, payday super changes will help protect the employee if the employer runs into financial difficulties.

The change will also allow the tax office to match deductions and payments in real time to detect fraud – and check that super is actually being paid. This can reduce audit costs and – in the long run – reduce reliance on the aged pension as super account balances improve.

Why wait any longer?

So, with all of these expected benefits, why has the financial services sector this month asked for implementation to be delayed further – by up to two years? The building blocks of the system – electronic payments to transfer funds and the government’s single-touch payroll gateway – are already in place.

One challenge is legislative. Although announced in May 2023, the draft legislation was only released for consultation in March 2025.

The Superannuation Guarantee (Administration) Act 1992 needs extensive amendments to rewrite references to the calculation and payment of the superannuation guarantee charge.

The draft legislation also makes some changes to definitions that may impact on how systems must be set up for payday super. Although not intended to change entitlements, they need to be made accurate in the software.

Still, payday super has the potential to strengthen Australia’s superannuation system, protecting employee contributions and smoothing the payment system for employers. Concerns around its implementation are largely due to the time it has taken for the draft legislation to emerge.

Following the election, the federal government has the numbers to pass this legislation as a matter of priority.

Helen Hodgson, Professor, Curtin Law School and Curtin Business School, Curtin University

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

Cynics point out that when a party turns to a woman leader, it is often handing her a hot mess. That’s certainly so with the federal Liberals, now choosing their first female leader in eight decades.

For the Liberals, and for Sussan Ley, 63, this is a bittersweet milestone. The odds are overwhelmingly against her chances of taking the Liberals from opposition to government.

Given Labor’s massive majority, it will be virtually impossible for the Liberals to regain office in under two terms (when Ley would be in her late 60s). The way these things go, there’s likely to be more than one opposition leader in the next half dozen years.

Most immediately, Ley has to put the meagre talent pool available to best use. This is not just fitting the right people into the right spots but containing ambitions and discontents.

Peter Dutton didn’t have to look over his shoulder in three years. Ley will be constantly glancing behind. Given the closeness of the vote, and his personality, Angus Taylor is unlikely to regard the result as closing the book. But for the moment, he said on Tuesday, “We must unify […] I will contribute the best way I can to help get us back in the fight.”

Jacinta Price, after defecting from the Nationals in a bid to become deputy to Taylor, has had her hopes of dramatic advancement dashed. In the end, she didn’t even contest the deputyship. She said later she was “disappointed” Taylor was not elected. Talked up by the conservative base, she may also find her new Liberal kennel more flea-ridden than her previous fairly-comfy Nationals one. Certainly Price, used to running her own race, will require careful management. She told Sky on Tuesday night she looked forward to “robust debate” in the party room.

Over coming days, there’ll be the opposition’s pain-filled policy overhaul. The nearly evenly divided leadership vote (29-25), in which the moderates supported Ley and the conservatives backed Taylor, highlights differences over policy.

A large cloud hangs over the controversial nuclear policy. Some will want to ditch it entirely; others will argue it should be recalibrated. A complication is that Ted O'Brien, the new deputy, was its main architect.

More seriously, the commitment to net zero emissions reduction by 2050 will be on the table.

Ley told her joint news conference with O'Brien: “There won’t be a climate war. There will be sound and sensible consultation”. That sounds like wishful thinking. It certainly goes against the Coalition’s history.

While there are some Liberal critics of net zero, this is particularly a debate for the Nationals, among whom there will be a strong push to ditch the commitment.

Within the Coalition, the Nationals will have greater clout because they held almost all their seats. What they do on climate policy will substantially affect the joint party room. But will there be pressure to break the Coalition?

Especially challenging for Ley – and at present looking almost impossible – is how the Liberals manage to appeal to two vital constituencies, women and younger voters. Many professional women in what were once solid Liberal areas have gone off to the teals. The under-50s have comprehensively rejected the Liberals.

Ley said: “We have to have a Liberal Party that respects modern Australia, that reflects modern Australia, and represents modern Australia. And we have to meet the people where they are.”

That’s exactly right, if the Liberal Party is to be successful. But the reality is that the party, as things stand, appears incapable of “meeting the people where they are.” The fundamental problem is that these constituencies – younger voters and women – are increasingly progressive in their politics, but the Liberals are not.

It’s not as if Ley, when deputy leader, didn’t make an effort with women. After the 2022 election, she embarked on a “women’s listening tour”. But such efforts didn’t work, and the Liberals then further alienated women with the working-from-home debacle..

Pitching to women in future will require the Liberals to consider whether they should swallow their objection to quotas for female candidates – and that will encounter fierce resistance.

The Liberals need to thread the needle between the so-called “leafy” urban areas they must win back and the outer suburbs that Dutton thought, wrongly, could take him to power.

Ley is a centrist and a pragmatist. She told her news conference she believed government “is ultimately formed in a sensible centre”.

She will probably be able to navigate issues such as “welcome to country” and the flag better than Dutton, and she said that at the Liberal Party meeting “I committed to my colleagues that there would be no captain’s calls”.

She has changed her views on issues, ranging from her previously strong support for the Palestinians (she was in the parliamentary friends of Palestine) to her opposition to the live sheep trade (she had a private member’s bill in 2018 restricting these exports).

A massive problem Ley will confront is the weak and in parts feral Liberal organisation, which is a federation of states. Variously, these divisions are riven by factionalism, depleted, and incompetent, or all of those. In contrast, Labor excels in its ground game at elections. Ley won’t be able to drive the needed reform, and the party lacks the strong figures in the organisation to do so.

Few people want to join political parties these days, and when a party is on the ropes, the traffic is the other way. This gives the ideologues and factional players even more power over candidate selection, often with bad outcomes.

Adding to their organisational challenges, the Liberals will also likely have to find a new federal director, with Andrew Hirst, who has been in the post since 2017, expected to move on.

When Ley was young she put an extra “s” in her name. She describes it as a joke in her rebellious youth. She told journalist Kate Legge in 2015, “I read about this numerology theory that if you add the numbers that match the letters in your name you can change your personality. I worked out that if you added an "s” I would have an incredibly exciting, interesting life and nothing would ever be boring.“

However it turns out, her time as opposition leader won’t be boring.

Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

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

We have a refreshed and revitalised Australian government, enriched with great political capital.

During the last term of parliament before the election, opportunities to address Australia’s raging gambling habit were neglected.

Could this government now have enough authority and courage to take on the gambling ecosystem?

A massive issue

Australians are the world’s biggest gambling losers.

Many attribute this to some inherent Australian trait. But what it really comes down to is the proliferation of gambling operators and their products.

They’re everywhere, along with their marketing and promotion.

Half of the gambling problems in Australia are associated with poker machines, ubiquitous in all states and territories other than Western Australia (WA).

Consequently, and unsurprisingly, WA has the lowest rate of gambling harms. The state has 2,500 pokies at a single Perth casino and none in clubs or pubs.

New South Wales boasts nearly 90,000 pokies, the highest pokie “density” in Australia, and its clubs and pubs make $8.1 billion a year.

Overall, pokie losses in Australia total $15.8 billion per year.

Wagering (betting on sport, racing and even elections), is now mainly online, and reaps another $8.4 billion in Australia. This is the fastest growing gambling sector, with growth, adjusted for inflation, of more than 45% between 2018-19 and 2022-23.

Pokies grew by a more modest 7.6% during the same period. Only casinos went backwards.

Overall, gambling costs Australians more than $32 billion annually.

This has been fuelled by relentless promotion and marketing and the expansion of the gambling ecosystem: the network of commercial actors who reap a major dividend from gambling losses.

It includes the bookies, pub and club chains as well as sporting leagues, financial services providers, software and game developers, charitable organisations, broadcasters, and state and territory governments.

Of course, gambling comes at a cost: it is strongly linked to broken relationships, loss of assets, employment and educational opportunities, and crime rates.

Intimate partner violence and neglect of children, along with poor mental and physical health, are also connected to gambling accessibility. As, unfortunately, is suicide.

However, there are ways to reduce gambling harm.

Six ways to tackle the problem

1. First up, we need a national gambling regulator. This was an important recommendation in the 2023 report of the all-party parliamentary committee chaired by the late Peta Murphy.

Currently, gambling is regulated by each state and territory. Some have reasonably robust systems in place. Others, somewhat less so. None are best practice.

A national system is long overdue, as many gambling businesses operate across multiple Australian jurisdictions.

In the absence of national regulation, the Northern Territory has become the de facto national regulator for online wagering. It offers a low-tax and arguably low intervention regulatory system.

Yet the vast majority of losses from punters come in other jurisdictions.

National regulation would also assist in standardising tax rates and maintaining reasonable uniform standards of regulation and enforcement.

2. Poker machines are Australia’s biggest gambling problem, but a national precommitment scheme would provide a tool for people to manage their gambling.

This proposal has been frequently mooted in Australia since the Productivity Commission recommended it in 2010.

It has worked well in Europe: forms of it now operate in 27 European countries.

Both Victoria and Tasmania have proposed it, as did the Perrottet government in the lead into the last NSW election.

Unfortunately, the power of the pokie lobby, supercharged by the addiction surplus it reaps from punters, has slowed or stopped its implementation.

But it’s eminently feasible and is highly likely to significantly reduce the harm of pokies.

The technical challenges are far from insurmountable, despite what industry interests argue.

3. Limiting accessibility to pokies is an important way to reduce harm.

Nothing good happens in a pokie room after midnight, yet they are often open until 4am, with reopening time only a little later.

Closing down venues after midnight and not opening until 10am would help a lot of people.

4. We can’t talk about political access without considering some key tools of the gambling ecosystem.

Pokie operators have enormous ability to influence politicians. Donations are a typical method to ensure access, backed up by the “revolving door” of post-politics jobs.

Politicians also enjoy a stream of freebies from the gambling ecosystem, which allow these businesses to bend the ear of a guest for hours at a time, at lunch, over drinks, or during an event.

To address this, we need better rules around acceptance of hospitality and gifts. Some states have moved towards such arrangements but there has been little action on the national front.

5. Another major recommendation from the Murphy committee was the banning of online gambling ads.

The majority of Australians want it to happen, and gambling ads are banned for almost all other forms of gambling.

The special treatment for this rapidly growing, highly harmful gambling product makes no sense.

6. Finally, we need to properly resource research into gambling harm and its prevention.

Much gambling research (and its conferences) are funded by the gambling ecosystem, either directly or via representative organisations.

This raises massive conflicts and has lead to a poor evidence base for policy making.

The time is now

Anything that stops people getting into trouble with gambling will be opposed by the gambling ecosystem because their best customers are those with the biggest losses.

But nobody is saying we should do away with gambling.

The evidence-based ideas above would help people with existing problems, and stop many more from ending up in trouble.

Gambling is a problem we can solve.

It does need political effort – but the Albanese government has the political capital to solve this problem.

Charles Livingstone, Associate Professor, School of Public Health and Preventive Medicine, Monash University and Angela Rintoul, Principal Research Fellow - Gambling and Suicide, The University of Melbourne

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

An interview with Paula and Bridgette Powers – identical twins who witnessed their mother’s carjacking – recently went viral. The way they spoke and gestured in unison has captivated global audiences.

Genetically, identical twins are clones. They result from the splitting of an early embryo, meaning they share the same genes.

In contrast, fraternal twins are the result of two eggs being fertilised by two different sperm. On average they share 50% of their genes – the same as any siblings who share both their biological mother and father.

So, when identical twins talk and gesture in unison (known as synchrony), is it down to genes? The answer can be complicated.

Genes aren’t the only influence on looks, language and like-minded thinking. Let’s break down the factors that might lead some twins to speak – and apparently think – in unison.

A close bond in a shared environment

Almost all twins, even “identical” ones, show some differences in physical, mental and emotional traits. They also regard themselves as distinct individuals and typically don’t like being referred to as “the twins”.

Yet we know most people naturally mimic the way those close to them speak and move, even without realising it. This phenomenon is called automatic mimicry and may be part of healthy social development, helping people synchronise behaviours and share emotions.

For identical twins who grow up in the same home, school and community, the effect of a shared environment and close bond may be particularly intense.

Paula and Bridgette Powers, for example, have shared an environment: not only the same parents, home and upbringing, but also the same job, running a bird rescue charity.

Twins may know each other so well they can intuitively sense what the other twin is about to say — and may feel like their brains are in sync. The Powers sisters have explained:

our brains must think alike at the same time.

In contrast, twins who grow up apart share many personality traits, but without years of shared interaction they are less likely to develop synchronised speech or mirrored behaviours. However, they do display many of the same unusual habits and idiosyncrasies.

What about genetics?

Studying identical and fraternal twins separated at birth can help us unravel how much of our behaviours – intelligence, personality and temperament – are influenced by genes and environment.

Even when identical twins grow up apart, they tend to closely resemble one another – not only physically, but in their personality, interests and behaviours. Fraternal twins, in general, are much less alike. This tells us genes matter.

One of us (Nancy) was a researcher with the Minnesota Study of Twins Raised Apart, which lasted from 1979 to 1999 and looked at more than 100 sets of twins (and triplets) separated at birth and raised apart. Twins were separated for various reasons, such as the stigma of single motherhood, inadequate family resources and maternal death.

The study comprehensively examined factors affecting a wide range of psychological, physical and medical traits. Researchers wanted to understand the impact of differences in their life histories on both identical and fraternal twins, reared apart and how they affected the current similarities and differences between them.

A striking finding was identical twins raised apart are as similar in personality as identical twins raised together. For example, the Minnesota researchers found little difference in traits such as wellbeing and aggression, whether identical twins were raised together or apart.

This shows genes play an important role in shaping our personality. Genes also affect the way we process speech and language.

Sharing identical genes may mean identical twins also respond to situations in similar ways. This is because their brains lead them to behave in comparable ways. This genetic closeness, which underlies their behavioural resemblance, explains why they may independently say or do the same thing, without any need for a mystical explanation.

The Minnesota study also found when identical twins were reunited they formed closer relationships with each other than reunited fraternal twins did. This suggests perceptions of similarity in behaviour might draw people together and help keep them connected.

We now know genes and environment each account for half the person-to-person differences in personality. However, the life events we individually experience remain the most important factor shaping how our unique traits are expressed and who we ultimately become.

What about a secret ‘twin language’?

Parents of identical twins may be left baffled as their children, even as toddlers, seem to communicate through babbles and gestures that no one else can understand.

Each twin pair has their own way of communicating. Twins’ private speech, also called idioglossia, cryptophasia or a “secret language”, refers to verbal and nonverbal exchanges most other people don’t understand. This is different to synchronised speech.

Private speech is displayed by about 40% of twins. However, estimates vary wildly – ranging from as low as 2% to as high as 47%. That’s mainly because researchers define and measure it differently.

Private speech usually fades as children age, at about three years of age. But some twins continue to use it into early childhood.

Why are we so fascinated by twins?

Twins continue to fascinate us. That is clear in the wealth of media attention they receive, their popularity in scientific studies, and their presence in myths and legends across all continents.

Perhaps it is because when we see identical twins who look and act so much alike, it challenges our belief that we are all unique.

But even identical twins are not exact replicas of one another. Genetic changes, events in the womb, and/or life experiences can conspire to create differences between them.

Nevertheless, most identical twins are more alike and socially closer than any other pair of people on the planet.

Bridgette and Paula Powers appear in an episode of Australian Story airing on Monday on ABCTV and ABC iview.

Jeffrey Craig, Professor in Medical Sciences, Deakin University and Nancy Segal, Professor of Psychology and Director of the Twin Studies Center, California State University, Fullerton

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