Should young people be paid less than their older counterparts, even if they’re working the same job? Whether you think it’s fair or not, it’s been standard practice in many industries for a long time.

The argument is that young people are not fully “work-ready” and require more intensive employer support to develop the right skills for their job.

But change could be on the horizon. Major unions and some politicians are pushing for reform – arguing “youth wages” should be scrapped entirely for adults.

Why? They say the need to be fairly paid for equal work effort, as well as economic considerations such as the high cost of living and ongoing housing crisis, mean paying young adults less based on their age is out of step with modern Australia.

So is there a problem with our current system, and if so, how might we go about fixing it?

What are youth wages?

In Australia, a youth wage or junior pay rate is paid as an increasing percentage of an award’s corresponding full adult wage until an employee reaches the age of 21.

This isn’t the case in every industry – some awards require all adults to be paid the same minimum rates.

But for those not covered by a specific award, as well as those working in industries including those covered by the General Retail Industry Award, Fast Food Industry Award and Pharmacy Industry Award, employees younger than 21 are not paid the full rate.

Why pay less?

Conventionally, junior rates have been thought of as a “training wage”. Younger people are typically less experienced, so as they gain more skills on the job over time, they are paid a higher hourly rate.

But there are a few key problems with this approach, which may not be relevant given many employers’ expectations for their workers to start “job-ready” and a lack of consistency in the training they provide.

Training up and developing skills is an important part of building any career. But it isn’t always provided by their employers.

Many young workers train themselves in job-related technical education and short courses, often at their own expense and prior to starting work.

Employers reap the benefit of this pre-employment training and so a “wage discount” for younger workers may be irrelevant in this instance.

None of this is to say employers aren’t offering something important when they take on young employees.

Younger workers coming into employment relatively early have access to more than just a paid job, but also become part of a team, with responsibilities and job requirements that support “bigger-picture” life skills.

Those who employ them may be contributing to their broader social and cultural engagement, something that could be considered part of a more inclusive training package. Whether that justifies a significant wage discount is less clear.

Calls for a rethink

There are growing calls for a rethink on the way we compensate young people for their efforts.

An application by the Shop Distributive and Allied Employees’ Association – the union for retail, fast food and warehousing workers – seeks to remove junior rates for adult employees on three key awards. This action will be heard by the Fair Work Commission next year.

Sally McManus, Secretary of the Australian Council of Trade Unions, said the peak union body will lobby the government to legislate such changes if this application fails. The Greens have added their support.

That doesn’t have to mean abolishing youth wages altogether. But 21 years of age is a high threshold, especially given we get the right to major adult responsibilities such as voting and driving by 18.

A transition strategy could consider gradually lowering this threshold, or increasing the wage percentages over time.

Lessons from New Zealand

We wouldn’t be the first to make such a bold change if we did.

Our geographically and culturally close neighbour, New Zealand, has already removed the “youth wage” – replacing it with a “first job” rate and a training wage set at 80% of the full award rate in 2008.

A common argument against abolishing youth wages – and increasing the minimum wage in general – is that it will stop businesses hiring young people and thus increase unemployment.

But a 2021 study that examined the effects of New Zealand’s experience with increasing minimum wages – including this change – found little discernible difference in employment outcomes for young workers.

The authors did note, however, that New Zealand’s economic downturn post-2008 had a marked effect on the employment of young workers more generally.

What’s fair?

It’s easy to see how we arrived at the case for paying younger adults less. But younger workers should not bear the burden of intergenerational inequity by “losing out” on wages in the early part of their working life.

The debate we see now echoes the discussions about equal pay for equal work value run in the 1960s and ‘70s in relation to women’s unequal pay.

We were warned that paying women the same as men would cause huge economic dislocation. Such a catastrophe simply did not come to pass.

Kerry Brown, Professor of Employment and Industry, School of Business and Law, Edith Cowan University

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

The NSW Education Standards Authority has announced that teaching of the Aboriginal past prior to European arrival will be excluded from the Year 7–10 syllabus as of 2027.

Since 2012, the topic “Ancient Australia” has been taught nationally in Year 7 as part of the Australian Curriculum. In 2022, a new topic called the “deep time history of Australia” was introduced to provide a more detailed study of 65,000 years of First Nations’ occupation of the continent.

However, New South Wales has surprisingly dropped this topic from its new syllabus, which will be rolled out in 2027. Instead, students will only learn First Nations’ history following European colonisation in 1788.

This directly undermines the Alice Springs (Mparntwe) Education Declaration of 2020. This is a national agreement, signed by education ministers from all jurisdictions, which states:

We recognise the more than 60,000 years [sic] of continual connection by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as a key part of the nation’s history, present and future.

If the planned change to the syllabus goes through, the only Aboriginal history taught to NSW students would be that which reflects the destruction of traditional Aboriginal society. It also means Aboriginal students in NSW will be denied a chance to learn about their deep ancestral past.

The significance of Australia’s deep time past

Bruce Pascoe’s groundbreaking 2014 book Dark Emu (which sold more than 500,000 copies), and the associated documentary, have highlighted an enormous appetite for learning about Australia’s deep time past.

Hundreds of thousands of Australians engaged with Dark Emu. As anthropologist Paul Memmott notes, the book prompted a debate that encouraged a better understanding of Aboriginal society and its complexity.

It also generated research that investigated whether terms such as “hunter-gatherers” are appropriate for defining past Aboriginal society and economic systems.

In schools, teachers have used Pascoe’s book Young Dark Emu to introduce students to sophisticated land and aquaculture systems used by First Peoples prior to colonisation.

The book raises an important question. If you lived in a country that invented bread and the edge-ground axe – a culture that independently developed early trade and social living – and did all of this without resorting to land war – wouldn’t you want your children to know about it?

For many students, the history they learn at school is knowledge they carry into their adult lives – and knowledge is the strongest antidote to ignorance. Rather than abandoning the Aboriginal deep time story, schools should be encouraging students to engage with it.

Learning on Country

One of the strengths of the current NSW history syllabus is the requirement for students to undertake a “site study” in Years 8 and 9. Currently, NSW is the only jurisdiction that has made this mandatory.

Site studies are an excellent opportunity for students to learn on Country. Many teachers organise excursions to Aboriginal cultural sites where students can directly engage with local Traditional Owners and Elders.

New South Wales is brimming with sites of cultural significance to Aboriginal people. The map below highlightssome of these, ranging from megafauna sites, to extensive fish traps, to the enigmatic rock art galleries and ceremonial engravings (petroglyphs).

How students will miss out

The Ngambaa people and archaeologists from the University of Queensland are currently investigating one of the largest midden complexes in Australia. This complex, located at Clybucca and Stuart’s Point on the north coast, spans some 14 kilometres and dates back to around 9,000 years ago.

Middens, or “living sites”, are accumulations of shell that were built over time through thousands of discarded seafood meals. Since the shells help reduce the acidic chemistry of the soil, animal bones and plant remains are more likely to be preserved in middens.

For instance, the Clybucca-Stuarts Point midden complex contains remains from seals and dugongs. Both of these animals were once part of the local ecosystem, but no longer are.

The middens also extend back to before the arrival of dingoes, so studying them could help us understand how biodiversity changed once dingoes replaced thylacines and Tasmanian devils on the mainland.

Local school students, especially Aboriginal students, will be actively participating in this cutting-edge research alongside the Ngambaa people, archaeologists and teachers. Among other things, the students will learn how the Ngambaa people sustainably managed land and sea Country over thousand of years during periods of dramatic environmental change.

But innovative programs like this will no longer be as relevant if Australia’s deep time history is removed from the NSW syllabus.

An opportunity for leadership

The study of First Nations archaeological sites, history and cultures tells us a broader human story of continuity and adaptability over deep time. Indigenising the curriculum – wherein Aboriginal knowledge is braided with historical and archaeological inquiry – is a powerful way to reconcile different approaches to understanding the past.

The NSW Education Standards Authority’s proposed changes risk sending young people the message that Australia’s “history” before colonisation is not an important part of the country’s historic narrative.

But there is still time to show leadership – by reversing the decisions and by connecting teachers and students to powerful stories from Australia’s deep time past.

Michael Westaway, Australian Research Council Future Fellow, Archaeology, School of Social Science, The University of Queensland; Bruce Pascoe, Enterprise Professor, Indigenous Agriculture School of Agriculture, Food and Ecosystem Sciences, The University of Melbourne, and Louise Zarmati, Senior Lecturer in Humanities and Social Sciences Education, Faculty of Education, University of Tasmania

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

Over the nearly five years since COVID first emerged, you’d be forgiven if you’ve lost track of the number of new variants we’ve seen. Some have had a bigger impact than others, but virologists have documented thousands.

The latest variant to make headlines is called XEC. This omicron subvariant has been reported predominantly in the northern hemisphere, but it has now been detected in Australia too.

So what do we know about XEC?

Is COVID still a thing?

People are now testing for COVID less and reporting it less. Enthusiasm to track the virus is generally waning.

Nonetheless, Australia is still collecting and reporting COVID data. Although the number of cases is likely to be much higher than the number documented (around 275,000 so far this year), we can still get some idea of when we’re seeing significant waves, compared to periods of lower activity.

Australia saw its last COVID peak in June 2024. Since then cases have been on the decline.

But SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID, is definitely still around.

Which variants are circulating now?

The main COVID variants circulating currently around the world include BA.2.86, JN.1, KP.2, KP.3 and XEC. These are all descendants of omicron.

The XEC variant was first detected in Italy in May 2024. The World Health Organization (WHO) designated it as a variant “under monitoring” in September.

Since its detection, XEC has spread to more than 27 countries across Europe, North America and Asia. As of mid-September, the highest numbers of cases have been identified in countries including the United States, Germany, France, the United Kingdom and Denmark.

XEC is currently making up around 20% of cases in Germany, 12% in the UK and around 6% in the US.

Although XEC remains a minority variant globally, it appears to have a growth advantage over other circulating variants. We don’t know why yet, but reports suggest it may be able to spread more easily than other variants.

For this reason, it’s predicted XEC could become the dominant variant worldwide in the coming months.

How about in Australia?

The most recent Australian Respiratory Surveillance Report noted there has been an increasing proportion of XEC sequenced recently.

In Australia, 329 SARS-CoV-2 sequences collected from August 26 to September 22 have been uploaded to AusTrakka, Australia’s national genomics surveillance platform for COVID.

The majority of sequences (301 out of 329, or 91.5%) were sub-lineages of JN.1, including KP.2 (17 out of 301) and KP.3 (236 out of 301). The remaining 8.5% (28 out of 329) were recombinants consisting of one or more omicron sub-lineages, including XEC.

Estimates based on data from GISAID, an international repository of viral sequences, suggests XEC is making up around 5% of cases in Australia, or 16 of 314 samples sequenced.

Queensland reported the highest rates in the past 30 days (8%, or eight of 96 sequences), followed by South Australia (5%, or five out of 93), Victoria (5%, or one of 20) and New South Wales (3%, or two of 71). WA recorded zero sequences out of 34. No data were available for other states and territories.

What do we know about XEC? What is a recombinant?

The XEC variant is believed to be a recombinant descendant of two previously identified omicron subvariants, KS.1.1 and KP.3.3. Recombinant variants form when two different variants infect a host at the same time, which allows the viruses to switch genetic information. This leads to the emergence of a new variant with characteristics from both “parent” lineages.

KS.1.1 is one of the group commonly known as “FLiRT” variants, while, KP.3.3 is one of the “FLuQE” variants. Both of these variant groups have contributed to recent surges in COVID infections around the world.

The WHO’s naming conventions for new COVID variants often use a combination of letters to denote new variants, particularly those that arise from recombination events among existing lineages. The “X” typically indicates a recombinant variant (as with XBB, for example), while the letters following it identify specific lineages.

We know very little so far about XEC’s characteristics specifically, and how it differs from other variants. But there’s no evidence to suggest symptoms will be more severe than with earlier versions of the virus.

What we do know is what mutations this variant has. In the S gene that encodes for the spike protein we can find a T22N mutation (inherited from KS.1.1) as well as Q493E (from KP.3.3) and other mutations known to the omicron lineage.

Will vaccines still work well against XEC?

The most recent surveillance data doesn’t show any significant increase in COVID hospitalisations. This suggests the current vaccines still provide effective protection against severe outcomes from circulating variants.

As the virus continues to mutate, vaccine companies will continue to update their vaccines. Both Pfizer and Moderna have updated vaccines to target the JN.1 variant, which is a parent strain of the FLiRT variants and therefore should protect against XEC.

However, Australia is still waiting to hear which vaccines may become available to the public and when.

In the meantime, omicron-based vaccines such as the the current XBB.1.5 spikevax (Moderna) or COMIRNATY (Pfizer) are still likely to provide good protection from XEC.

It’s hard to predict how XEC will behave in Australia as we head into summer. We’ll need more research to understand more about this variant as it spreads. But given XEC was first detected in Europe during the northern hemisphere’s summer months, this suggests XEC might be well suited to spreading in warmer weather.

Lara Herrero, Research Leader in Virology and Infectious Disease, Griffith University

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

Attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is the most diagnosed childhood neurological disorder in Australia.

Over the years, it has been the subject of controversy about potential misdiagnosis and overdiagnosis. There has also been variation in levels of diagnosis and drug prescription, depending on where you live and your socioeconomic status.

To address these concerns and improve consistency in ADHD diagnosis and prescribing, the Australasian ADHD Professionals Association has released a new prescribing guide. This will help the health-care workforce to consistently get the right treatment to the right people, with the right mix of medical and non-medical supports.

Here’s how ADHD prescribing has changed over time and what the new guidelines mean.

What is ADHD and how is it treated?

Up to one in ten young Australians experience ADHD. It is diagnosed due to inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity that has negative effects at home, school or work.

Psychostimulant medication is a central pillar of ADHD treatment.

However, the internationally recognised approach is to combine medicines with non-medical interventions in a multimodal approach. These non-medical interventions include cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), occupational therapy, educational strategies and other supports.

Medication use has changed over time

In Australia, Ritalin (methylphenidate) was originally the most prescribed ADHD medication. This changed in the 1990s after the introduction of dexamphetamine, along with the subsequent availability of Vyvance (lisdexamfetamine).

Perhaps the most significant change has come with “slow release” versions of the above medications that can last more than eight hours (longer than a school day).

When following clinical guidelines, prescribing medication for ADHD is safe practice. Yet the use of amphetamines to treat young people with ADHD has caused public concern. This highlights the importance of consistent guidelines for prescribing professionals.

Growth in diagnosis and prescribing

Starting from low levels, there was a dramatic rise in diagnosis and drug treatment in the 1990s. Much of this was overseen by a small number of psychiatrists and paediatricians in each state or territory. While this promised the potential of consistency in the early days, it also raised concerns about best practice.

This led to the development of the first ADHD clinical guidelines by the National Medical Health and Research Council in 1997.

It was followed by several refinements as prescription expanded due to changing diagnostic criteria (expanding to include a dual diagnosis with autism) and the need for best practice with the growing prescription by GPs. These guidelines enhanced the consistency of approaches nationally and reduced the likelihood of misdiagnosis or overdiagnosis.

However, a recent Senate inquiry found diagnosis and drug treatment continued to grow substantially in the five years to 2022. It emphasised the need for a more consistent approach to diagnosis and prescribing.

First the ingredients, then the recipe

The most recent clinical guidelines, released by the Australasian ADHD Professionals Association in 2022, outlined a roadmap for ADHD clinical practice, research and policy. They did so by drawing on the lived experience of those with ADHD. They also emphasised broader health questions, such as how to respond to ADHD as a holistic condition.

It remains difficult to predict individual responses to different medication. So the new prescribing guide offers practical advice about safe and responsible prescribing. This aims to reduce the potential for incorrect prescribing, dosing and adjusting of ADHD medication, across different age groups, settings and individuals.

To put this visually, the clinical guidelines describe what the ingredients of the cake should be, while the prescribing guidelines provide step-by-step recipes.

So what do they recommend?

An important principle in both these documents is that medication should not be the first and only treatment. Not every drug works the same way for every child. In some cases they do not work at all.

The possible side effects of medication vary and include poor appetite, sleep problems, headaches, stomach aches, moodiness and irritability. These guidelines assist in adapting medication to reduce these side effects.

Medication provides an important window of opportunity for many young people to gain maximum value from psychosocial and psychoeducational supports. These supports can, among others, include:

• cognitive training
• CBT
• neurofeedback
  
• occupational therapy
• educational strategies
• ADHD coaching.

Support for ADHD can also include parent training. This is not to suggest parents cause ADHD. Rather, they can support more effective treatment, especially since the rigours of ADHD can be a challenge to even the “perfect” parent.

Getting the right diagnosis

There have been reports of people seeking to use TikTok to self-diagnose, as well as a rise in people using ADHD stimulants without a prescription.

However, the message from these new guidelines is that ADHD diagnosis is a complex process that takes a specialist at least three hours. Online sources might be useful to prompt people to seek help, but diagnosis should come from a qualified health-care professional.

Finally, while we have moved beyond unhelpful past debate about whether ADHD is real to consolidate best diagnostic and prescribing practice, there is some way to go in reducing stigma and changing negative community attitudes to ADHD.

Hopefully in future we’ll be better able to cherish diversity and difference, and not just see it as a deficit.

Brenton Prosser, Professor of Public Policy and Leadership, UNSW Sydney

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

For almost a decade, researchers have been gathering evidence that the social media platform Facebook disproportionately amplifies low-quality content and misinformation.

So it was something of a surprise when in 2023 the journal Science published a study that found Facebook’s algorithms were not major drivers of misinformation during the 2020 United States election.

This study was funded by Facebook’s parent company, Meta. Several Meta employees were also part of the authorship team. It attracted extensive media coverage. It was also celebrated by Meta’s president of global affairs, Nick Clegg, who said it showed the company’s algorithms have “no detectable impact on polarisation, political attitudes or beliefs”.

But the findings have recently been thrown into doubt by a team of researchers led by Chhandak Bagch from the University of Massachusetts Amherst. In an eLetter also published in Science, they argue the results were likely due to Facebook tinkering with the algorithm while the study was being conducted.

In a response eLetter, the authors of the original study acknowledge their results “might have been different” if Facebook had changed its algorithm in a different way. But they insist their results still hold true.

The whole debacle highlights the problems caused by big tech funding and facilitating research into their own products. It also highlights the crucial need for greater independent oversight of social media platforms.

Merchants of doubt

Big tech has started investing heavily in academic research into its products. It has also been investing heavily in universities more generally. For example, Meta and its chief Mark Zuckerberg have collectively donated hundreds of millions of dollars to more than 100 colleges and universities across the United States.

This is similar to what big tobacco once did.

In the mid-1950s, cigarette companies launched a coordinated campaign to manufacture doubt about the growing body of evidence which linked smoking with a number of serious health issues, such as cancer. It was not about falsifying or manipulating research explicitly, but selectively funding studies and bringing to attention inconclusive results.

This helped foster a narrative that there was no definitive proof smoking causes cancer. In turn, this enabled tobacco companies to keep up a public image of responsibility and “goodwill” well into the 1990s.

A positive spin

The Meta-funded study published in Science in 2023 claimed Facebook’s news feed algorithm reduced user exposure to untrustworthy news content. The authors said “Meta did not have the right to prepublication approval”, but acknowledged that The Facebook Open Research and Transparency team “provided substantial support in executing the overall project”.

The study used an experimental design where participants – Facebook users – were randomly allocated into a control group or treatment group.

The control group continued to use Facebook’s algorithmic news feed, while the treatment group was given a news feed with content presented in reverse chronological order. The study sought to compare the effects of these two types of news feeds on users’ exposure to potentially false and misleading information from untrustworthy news sources.

The experiment was robust and well designed. But during the short time it was conducted, Meta changed its news feed algorithm to boost more reliable news content. In doing so, it changed the control condition of the experiment.

The reduction in exposure to misinformation reported in the original study was likely due to the algorithmic changes. But these changes were temporary: a few months later in March 2021, Meta reverted the news feed algorithm back to the original.

In a statement to Science about the controversy, Meta said it made the changes clear to researchers at the time, and that it stands by Clegg’s statements about the findings in the paper.

Unprecedented power

In downplaying the role of algorithmic content curation for issues such as misinformation and political polarisation, the study became a beacon for sowing doubt and uncertainty about the harmful influence of social media algorithms.

To be clear, I am not suggesting the researchers who conducted the original 2023 study misled the public. The real problem is that social media companies not only control researchers’ access to data, but can also manipulate their systems in a way that affects the findings of the studies they fund.

What’s more, social media companies have the power to promote certain studies on the very platform the studies are about. In turn, this helps shape public opinion. It can create a scenario where scepticism and doubt about the impacts of algorithms can become normalised – or where people simply start to tune out.

This kind of power is unprecedented. Even big tobacco could not control the public’s perception of itself so directly.

All of this underscores why platforms should be mandated to provide both large-scale data access and real-time updates about changes to their algorithmic systems.

When platforms control access to the “product”, they also control the science around its impacts. Ultimately, these self-research funding models allow platforms to put profit before people – and divert attention away from the need for more transparency and independent oversight.

Timothy Graham, Associate Professor in Digital Media, Queensland University of Technology

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

Missy Higgins’ recent ARIA number-one album, The Second Act, represents an increasingly rare sighting: an Australian artist at the top of an Australian chart.

My recently published analysis of Australia’s best-selling singles and albums from 2000 to 2023 shows a significant decline in the representation of artists from Australia and non-English-speaking countries.

The findings suggest music streaming in Australia – together with algorithmic recommendation – is creating a monoculture dominated by artists from the United States and United Kingdom. This could spell bad news for our music industry if things don’t change.

Who dominates Australian charts?

In 2023, Australia’s recorded music industry was worth about A$676 million, up 10.9% year on year.

Building a strong local music industry is important, not only to support diverse cultural expression, but also to create jobs and boost Australia’s reputation on a global stage.

When Australian artists succeed, this attracts global investment, which in turn stimulates all aspects of the local music industry. Conversely, a weak music economy can lead to global disinvestment, thereby disadvantaging local companies, artists and consumers.

My research shows how the rise of music streaming – which became the dominant format for Australian recorded music sales in 2017 – has had a noticeable impact on the diversity of artists represented in the ARIA top 100 single and album charts.

In the year 2000, the top 100 singles chart featured hits from 14 different countries. By contrast, only seven countries were represented in 2023.

The percentage of Australian and New Zealand artists in the top 100 single charts declined from an average of 16% in 2000–16 to around 10% in 2017–23, and just 2.5% in 2023.

Album share also declined from an average of 29% in 2000–16 to 18% in 2017–23, and 4% in 2023.

Similarly, the proportion of artists from outside the Anglo bloc of North America, the UK and Australia/New Zealand declined from an average of 11.1% in 2000–16 to 7.3% in 2017–23 – while album share declined from 5% in 2000–16 to 2.3% in 2017–23.

My study also found representation of Indigenous artists remained low, but stable, over the period studied – and in line with population ratios.

Concetration of power

The findings suggest the decline in Australian and non-Anglo representation in the ARIA top 100 charts is linked.

Some economists and academics have argued easier access to independent music and global distribution via streaming will lead to greater diversity in music. But this hasn’t been the case in Australia, at least as far as chart-topping artists are concerned.

The global recorded music industry has consolidated in recent years. In the early 2000s there were five major music labels. Currently there are just three: Universal, Sony and Warner.

Last year, these three labels were responsible for more than 95% of the Australian top 100 single and album charts. Meanwhile, Spotify, Apple Music and YouTube make up an estimated 97% of the Australian streaming market.

These concentrations of power allow a handful of record labels and distributors to have a disproportionate influence over music design, production, distribution and governance – thereby limiting opportunities for diversity.

The need for new policy

My findings align with European research that found markets with a strong cultural differentiator of language are showing increased national diversity with streaming.

However, countries without a distinctive language are being increasingly dominated by global music production. In Australia’s case, we’re becoming reliant on the star-making machinery of the US.

Recently, Australia’s live music crisis came under scrutiny at a federal government inquiry, which highlighted the significant power imbalance between artists and multinational promoters.

As I and many others have suggested, targeted cultural policies are necessary to combat our highly concentrated and US-dependent market.

Relying on labels and streaming platforms will do little to preserve and promote our nation’s unique musical and cultural identity.

Tim Kelly, PhD Candidate, University of Technology Sydney

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

This article is part of a series on the great internet letdown. Read the rest of the series.

Ever found yourself unable to resist checking out a social media notification? Or sending a random picture just to keep a Snapchat “streak” going? Or simply getting stuck staring at YouTube because it auto-played yet another cute cat video?

If so, you’re far from alone. And if we adults can’t resist such digital temptations, how can we expect children to do any better?

Many digital environments are not designed with the best interest of users in mind – and this is especially true of games, apps and platforms commonly used by kids and teens.

Designers use persuasive design techniques to make users spend more time on apps or platforms, so they can make more money selling ads. Below, we explain some of the most common design tricks used in popular games, social media and apps.

Decision-making made easy 🔀

Social media and streaming platforms strive to provide “seamless” user experiences. This makes it easy to stay engaged without needing to click anything very often, which also minimises any obvious opportunities where we might disengage.

These seamless experiences include things such as auto-play when streaming videos, or “infinite scrolling” on social media. When algorithms present us with a steady flow of content, shaped by what we have liked or engaged with in the past, we must put in extra effort to stop watching. Unsurprisingly, we often decide to stay put.

Rewards and dopamine hits 🧠

Another way to keep children engaged is by using rewards, such as stars, diamonds, stickers, badges or other “points” in children’s apps. “Likes” on social media are no different.

Rewards trigger the release of a chemical in our brains – dopamine – which not only makes us feel good but also leaves us wanting more.

Rewards can be used to promote good behaviour, but not always. In some children’s apps, rewards are doubled if users watch advertisements.

Loot boxes and ‘gambling’ 💰

Variable rewards have been found to be especially effective. When you do not know when you will get a certain reward or desired item, you are more likely to keep going.

In games, variable rewards can often be found (or purchased) in the form of “loot boxes”. Loot boxes might be chests, treasures, or stacks of cards containing a random reward. Because of the unpredictable reward, some researchers have described loot boxes as akin to gambling, even though the games do not always involve real money.

Sometimes in-game currency (fake game money) can be bought with real money and used to “gamble” for rare characters and special items. This is very tempting for young people.

In one of our (as yet unpublished) studies, a 12-year-old student admitted to spending several hundred dollars to obtain a desired character in the popular game Genshin Impact.

The lure of streaks 🔥

Another problematic way of using rewards in design is negative reinforcement. For instance, when you are at risk of a negative outcome (like losing something good), you feel compelled to continue a particular behaviour.

“Streaks” work like this. If you do not do the same task for several days in a row, you will not get the extra rewards promised. Language learning app DuoLingo uses streaks, but so does Snapchat, a popular social media app. Research has shown a correlation between Snapchat streaks and problematic smartphone use among teens.

Streaks can also make money for apps directly. If you miss a day and lose your streak, you can often pay to restore it.

Loss of reputation 👎

Reputation is important on social media. Think of the number of Facebook friends you have, or the number of likes your post receives.

Sometimes designers build on our fear of losing our reputation. For instance, they can do this by adding a leaderboard that ranks users based on their score.

While you may have heard of the use of leaderboards in games, they are also common in popular educational apps such as Kahoot! or Education Perfect. Leaderboards introduce an element of competition that many students enjoy.

However, for some this competition has negative consequences – especially for those languishing low in the ranks.

Similarly, Snapchat has a SnapScore where reputational loss is still at play. You do not want a lower score than your friends! This makes you want to keep using the app.

Exploiting feelings of connection 🥰

Another tool in the designers’ bag of tricks is capitalising on the emotional ties or connections users form with influencers or celebrities on social media, or favourite media characters (such as Elmo or Peppa pig) for younger children.

While these connections can foster a sense of belonging, they can also be exploited for commercial gain, such as when influencers promote commercial products, or characters urge in-app purchases.

What can parents do? 🤷

Persuasive design isn’t inherently bad. Users want apps and games to be engaging, like we do for movies or TV shows. However, some design “tricks” simply serve commercial interests, often at the expense of users’ wellbeing.

It is not all bleak, though. Here are a few steps parents can take to help kids stay on top of the apps:

• have early and ongoing discussions with children about ideas such as the underlying commercial intent of what they are engaging with

• model good digital choices of not giving in to persuasive design, such as by avoiding digital distractions yourself

• use trustworthy resources to help in digital decision-making, such as Common Sense Media and Dark Pattern Games.

For the moment, the responsibility for managing children’s interactions with the digital realm falls largely on individuals and families.

Some governments are beginning to take action, but measures such as blanket age-based bans on social media or other platforms will only shield children temporarily. A better approach for governments and regulators would be to focus on safety by design: the idea that the safety and rights of users should be the starting point of any app, product or service, rather than an afterthought.

Chris Zomer, Associate Research Fellow at the Centre of the Digital Child, Deakin University and Sumudu Mallawaarachchi, Research Fellow, ARC Centre of Excellence for the Digital Child, University of Wollongong

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

Pandemics – the global spread of infectious diseases – seem to be making a comeback. In the Middle Ages we had the Black Death (plague), and after the first world war we had the Spanish flu. Tens of millions of people died from these diseases.

Then science began to get the upper hand, with vaccination eradicating smallpox, and polio nearly so. Antibiotics became available to treat bacterial infections, and more recently antivirals as well.

But in recent years and decades pandemics seem to be returning. In the 1980s we had HIV/AIDS, then several flu pandemics, SARS, and now COVID (no, COVID isn’t over).

So why is this happening, and is there anything we can do to avert future pandemics?

Unbalanced ecosystems

Healthy, stable ecosystems provide services that keep us healthy, such as supplying food and clean water, producing oxygen, and making green spaces available for our recreation and wellbeing.

Another key service ecosystems provide is disease regulation. When nature is in balance – with predators controlling herbivore populations, and herbivores controlling plant growth – it’s more difficult for pathogens to emerge in a way that causes pandemics.

But when human activities disrupt and unbalance ecosystems – such as by way of climate change and biodiversity loss – things go wrong.

For example, climate change affects the number and distribution of plants and animals. Mosquitoes that carry diseases can move from the tropics into what used to be temperate climates as the planet warms, and may infect more people in the months that are normally disease free.

We’ve studied the relationship between weather and dengue fever transmission in China, and our findings support the same conclusion reached by many other studies: climate change is likely to put more people at risk of dengue.

Biodiversity loss can have similar effects by disrupting food chains. When ranchers cleared forests in South America for their cattle to graze in the first half of the 20th century, tiny forest-dwelling, blood-feeding vampire bats suddenly had a smörgåsbord of large sedentary animals to feed on.

While vampire bats had previously been kept in check by the limited availability of food and the presence of predators in the balanced forest ecosystem, numbers of this species exploded in South America.

These bats carry the rabies virus, which causes lethal brain infections in people who are bitten. Although the number of deaths from bat-borne rabies has now fallen dramatically due to vaccination programs in South America, rabies caused by bites from other animals still poses a global threat.

As urban and agricultural development impinges on natural ecosystems, there are increasing opportunities for humans and domestic animals to become infected with pathogens that would normally only be seen in wildlife – particularly when people hunt and eat animals from the wild.

The HIV virus, for example, first entered human populations from apes that were slaughtered for food in Africa, and then spread globally through travel and trade.

Meanwhile, bats are thought to be the original reservoir for the virus that caused the COVID pandemic, which has killed more than 7 million people to date.

Ultimately, until we effectively address the unsustainable impact we are having on our planet, pandemics will continue to occur.

Targeting the ultimate causes

Factors such as climate change, biodiversity loss and other global challenges are the ultimate (high level) cause of pandemics. Meanwhile, increased contact between humans, domestic animals and wildlife is the proximate (immediate) cause.

In the case of HIV, while direct contact with the infected blood of apes was the proximate cause, the apes were only being slaughtered because large numbers of very poor people were hungry – an ultimate cause.

The distinction between ultimate causes and proximate causes is important, because we often deal only with proximate causes. For example, people may smoke because of stress or social pressure (ultimate causes of getting lung cancer), but it’s the toxins in the smoke that cause cancer (proximate cause).

Generally, health services are only concerned with stopping people from smoking – and with treating the illness that results – not with removing the drivers that lead them to smoke in the first place.

Similarly, we address pandemics with lockdowns, mask wearing, social distancing and vaccinations – all measures which seek to stop the spread of the virus. But we pay less attention to addressing the ultimate causes of pandemics – until perhaps very recently.

A planetary health approach

There’s a growing awareness of the importance of adopting a “planetary health” approach to improve human health. This concept is based on the understanding that human health and human civilisation depend on flourishing natural systems, and the wise stewardship of those natural systems.

With this approach, ultimate drivers like climate change and biodiversity loss would be prioritised in preventing future pandemics, at the same time as working with experts from many different disciplines to deal with the proximate causes, thereby reducing the risk overall.

The planetary health approach has the benefit of improving both the health of the environment and human health concurrently. We are heartened by the increased uptake of teaching planetary health concepts across the environmental sciences, humanities and health sciences in many universities.

As climate change, biodiversity loss, population displacements, travel and trade continue to increase the risk of disease outbreaks, it’s vital that the planetary stewards of the future have a better understanding of how to tackle the ultimate causes that drive pandemics.

This article is the first in a series on the next pandemic.

Olga Anikeeva, Research Fellow, School of Public Health, University of Adelaide; Jessica Stanhope, Lecturer, School of Allied Health Science and Practice, University of Adelaide; Peng Bi, Professor, School of Public Health, University of Adelaide, and Philip Weinstein, Professorial Research Fellow, School of Public Health, University of Adelaide

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

This piece is the final of a three part series on Australia’s defamation laws. You can read the other pieces here and here.

Defamation laws exist to strike a balance between press freedom and the protection of people’s reputations from wrongful harm. In Australia, this balance has always been loaded against press freedom.

This is due partly to the way the defamation laws have been framed and partly by the way the courts have interpreted them.

Courts examine matters of journalism in the same way they examine matters of law: forensically, with strict rules and high standards of evidence and proof.

While we rightly expect ethical and honest reporting from our media, even the best can prove insufficient under the piercing gaze of defamation law. And in a time when media companies are more cash-strapped than ever, this has a chilling effect on the stories that get told and press freedom more broadly.

Ethics vs the law

Until 2006, each Australian jurisdiction had its own defamation laws. This created a nightmare of complexity for publishers, especially of newspapers and broadcasts that crossed state boundaries, which meant all the main media organisations.

They had to take into account the risks posed by litigation in the jurisdiction least favourable to press freedom.

For many decades, that was New South Wales. It was one of the states where truth alone was not a sufficient defence; there also had to be a public interest in the material. In some other jurisdictions this was called public benefit.

This was a major burden on press freedom and it was removed by the introduction of uniform defamation laws in 2006.

Since then, it has been enough for publishers to prove the substantial truth of the meanings conveyed in an article in order for the defence of truth to succeed.

It may sound straightforward, but proving substantial truth requires producing admissible evidence strong enough to satisfy the civil standard of proof: on the balance of probabilities. That usually means having documents and witnesses who are willing to be identified.

If, as is often the case, the article has drawn on evidence from a confidential source, the publisher is unable to put that source in the witness box because to do so would breach the media’s fundamental ethical obligation to protect the identity of confidential sources.

So unless the source is prepared in advance to be identified should the matter come to court, a story relying significantly on that person’s testimony may not see the light of day unless some other defence is available.

In 2021, those defences were expanded, although quite how significant that expansion turns out to be remains to be seen.

What appears on paper to be the most significant change was the introduction of a general public interest defence. This says that if publication of a story is in the public interest, and the publisher has a reasonable belief that it is, then publication can be defended on that ground.

There has been only one major test of that new defence, and it went against the media.

That case showed “reasonable belief” depended on the journalism being sound. In this case, the court found that the defendant, which was the ABC, had relied on shaky testimony that had not been sufficiently verified and had not given the subject of the story a fair opportunity to respond.

At odds with practicalities

This brings us to the question of how the courts interpret the law.

One of the big disappointments in this respect has been the way the courts have interpreted what, at the time, was hoped to be a significant addition to Australia’s threadbare free-speech jurisprudence.

In a case brought against the ABC by a late prime minister of New Zealand, David Lange, the High Court established the principle that freedom of speech on matters of government and politics trumped a person’s case for protection for their reputation.

If a person wanted to sue for defamation, they had to do so in a way that did not burden freedom of speech on matters of government and politics.

However, the High Court attached a test of reasonableness to this freedom. In several ways, it’s similar to the “reasonable belief” test in the new public interest defence.

Unfortunately, successive courts have applied the Lange reasonableness test in ways that are so strict they require journalists to meet standards demanding more powers of investigation than they possess or to exceed the usual journalistic standards of verification. Journalists can’t subpoena documents or compel people to speak to them.

The result is that this defence has become more or less a dead letter for journalistic purposes.

Is a story worth the cost?

Those accused of defamation can also defend it by saying it was comment or honest opinion. The first requirement of this defence is that the material be a comment and not a statement of fact.

But courts have interpreted this in different ways.

This uncertainty was illustrated by a famous case that became known as “Leo the Lobster”. A restaurant and restaurateur in Sydney successfully sued the Sydney Morning Herald over a review of a lobster dinner written by one Leo Schofield.

Schofield, who was a colourful writer, said the lobster had been overcooked:

the carbonized claws contained only a kind of white powder which might have been albino walrus.

Despite the amusing language, the court interpreted that as a literal factual description, not a statement of opinion.

Courts have a limited sense of humour, which makes satirical writing a chancy business, since the sharper the satire, the closer it is to literal truth.

Cartoons, which are satirical by definition, have more leeway but are not immune to defamation suits.

Then there’s the costs of defamation, particularly for media outlets. They’ve become exorbitant.

It has been estimated that the costs involved in the case brought by Ben Roberts-Smith against The Sydney Morning Herald, The Age and The Canberra Times amounted to about $25 million. The newspapers won, although the matter has gone to appeal.

But even if the verdict is upheld, experience shows it is unlikely they will recoup anything like their full costs.

At a time when all major news media organisations are under acute financial pressure because of the inroads the internet has made on their revenue, there is a strong temptation not to risk publishing material the public has a right to know because of the financial impact an action for defamation would have.

Denis Muller, Senior Research Fellow, Centre for Advancing Journalism, The University of Melbourne

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

This week the New South Wales government announced it would introduce legislation that ensures renters are offered convenient, fee-free options to pay their rent.

The announcement is just one of many state and territory reforms that aim to address issues arising from the use of rental technology platforms.

In recent years these platforms and the landlords who use them have come under fire for intruding on renters’ privacy and charging additional fees. While practices such as “rent bidding” have already been outlawed around Australia, governments are now starting to turn their attention to other harmful practices facilitated by new technologies.

Action on these issues is long overdue, and there’s much more that needs to be done to ensure rental technology platforms actually benefit consumers.

An expanding industry

A wide range of digital technology platforms are used to facilitate the use, trading, operation and management of real estate assets. A well-known example is AirBnb, a technology platform that facilitates short-term rentals by connecting hosts with guests.

The property technology industry in Australia is rapidly expanding. In 2023, there were more than 478 products, start-ups and established companies ranging from marketing tools to data analytics platforms. This was up from 188 in 2019.

A portion of these companies make services typically designed to be used by renters, real estate agents or landlords.

A major selling point of rental technology platforms is that they promise to streamline a range of processes. To renters, these technologies are billed as quick, easy and effective ways to submit property applications, request maintenance or pay rent.

If designed well, these platforms can certainly offer convenience. But many have expressed dissatisfaction with rental technology businesses that pressure renters to pay for costly background checks, collect too much personal data, or use opaque algorithms to “score” applicants.

People who struggle to access or use technologies may also find these platforms difficult to use. This makes it harder for them to access an essential service.

Some 41% of renters report feeling pressured to use a third-party rental technology platform to apply for a property. And 29% say they have opted not to apply for particular rentals because they do not trust rental technology platforms. This suggests that the use of these technologies may sometimes deter, rather than attract, applicants.

Additional fees

Over 30% of Australians rent their homes, a figure that continues to grow as people find themselves priced out of home ownership. Rising rents and the overall increase in the cost of living have put many renters under substantial financial pressure.

With this in mind, it’s concerning that some renters have found themselves with little choice but to use rental technology platforms that charge fees to process rental payments.

For example, renters using a popular platform called Ailo are typically charged between 0.25% to 1.50% to make automated rental payments, depending on the method of payment they use. A rough estimate shows that a household paying the median weekly rent (A$627 per week) on a fortnightly basis might see themselves paying between $81.51 and $489.06 in additional fees each year.

As required by law, Ailo does offer a fee-free option to pay rent. But this option is highly inconvenient: it requires renters to enter their bank details anew each time they make a payment.

The fee-free options offered by some other rental technology platforms are equally inconvenient. They include paying rent in cash at the local post office.

For renters who have been asked to use a rental payment platform, this may mean spending additional time and effort every time they pay their rent to avoid paying additional fees.

The NSW government already requires lessors to offer fee-free ways to pay rent (similar protections are legislated in other states and territories). However, the key element of this week’s announcement is a commitment to making sure these fee-free methods are actually convenient. This should hopefully close the legislative loophole that is enabling these rental technologies to unfairly profit at renters’ expense.

While the draft legislation is yet to be seen, these reforms might see renters reverting to tried and tested payment methods such as bank transfers and bypassing rental technology payment platforms altogether.

Effective enforcement

Introducing laws that ensure renters have access to convenient, fee-free ways to make rental payments is a no-brainer. The next step is ensuring these laws are enforced effectively.

To achieve this, the regulator must be well resourced to carry out compliance and enforcement activities that ensure lessors and rental technology businesses comply with these protections.

Beyond these reforms, there is more work to be done to ensure renters are effectively protected from a range of harms that are created or exacerbated by rental technology platforms.

Issues such as discrimination and unfair treatment through rental technology platforms warrant further attention.

The key challenge for governments and regulators is to keep up with technological developments so they can identify and address issues as they arise.

Correction: this article has been amended to reflect the fact that Ailo requires renters to enter their details for each payment, rather than monthly as originally stated.

Linda Przhedetsky, PhD Candidate, Faculty of Law, University of Technology Sydney

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