Transparency is vital to our democratic system of government.

It promotes good government, spurring those in power into better practice. Even when what is revealed is pretty revolting, transparency means those transgressions are known, and accountability for them can follow.

Transparency is particularly important for people who otherwise do not have access to government, who are not “in the room” or “at the table”, whether that be directly or through lobbyists or other connections.

But recent data reveal government transparency in Australia is on the decline. Given the connection between transparency and a well-functioning democracy, this is deeply concerning.

The Albanese government’s compliance rate with Senate orders for documents is the lowest of any government since 2016, and the second-worst of any government since 1993. Disclosures under freedom of information laws have dropped dramatically over the past decade.

The problem isn’t a lack of solutions, but that governments appear perpetually unwilling to open up.

How should transparency work?

In Australia, there is a complex system of institutions and laws that provide government accountability and transparency.

Outside of the blunt instrument of electoral accountability through the ballot box, the parliament, and in particular the non-government-dominated Senate, plays a key role in providing accountability and transparency.

The transparency work of the Senate is supplemented by a number of regimes, chief among them freedom of information. Under freedom of information, members of the public can request specific information from government departments and agencies, and this is supported by a “freedom of information champion”, the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner.

To work properly, these schemes and regimes need the ongoing support, cooperation and buy-in (literally in the form of funding) from government. This has, at times, been less than forthcoming, which can hobble their operation in different ways.

There are also several reasons why a government might refuse to publicly disclose what it is doing. Former High Court Chief Justice Harry Gibbs said “government at a high level cannot function without some degree of secrecy”.

But limits and exceptions to transparency regimes are controversial. Does there need to be an exception at all? Does a particular document fall within the exception?

The government holds the upper hand in asserting whether a document falls within an exception, because they are the ones who know what the documents are. This gives rise to cynicism that these exceptions can be and are being abused.

Documents remaining buried

This cynicism may be warranted, as two recent reports by the Centre for Public Integrity show successive governments lack true commitment to transparency.

The first report was about Senate orders for the production of documents and how often the government complies with them.

One of the Senate’s most powerful tools in holding the executive to account is its ability to order the production of government documents.

But governments have a long history of avoiding compliance with Senate orders. They either outright refuse to respond, or offer broad claims of “public interest immunity” over sensitive documents, such as those relating to national security, Cabinet, federal relations or law enforcement.

While the Senate can sanction ministers who refuse to comply with its orders, such as through suspending them from the chamber, it has historically done little in response to government insouciance.

This means we don’t know whether the public interest immunity claims being made over the documents are valid, and there is currently no mechanism to find out.

The recent data show the government’s compliance rates with Senate orders to produce documents have fallen from 92% in 1993–96, to approximately 33% for the current parliament.

This is a low that only the Abbott/Turnbull government in the 44th parliament has the ignominious record of beating in the past 30-odd years.

It is coupled with the government increasingly claiming public interest immunity. Public interest immunity rejections as a proportion of non-compliance sat at 61% over the 46th Parliament, this rose to almost 68% over the Albanese government’s first term.

These averaged roughly one claim per week under Albanese, compared with about one claim every three weeks under by the Morrison government in the 46th parliament.

What about freedom of information?

The second report is on the operation of the Commonwealth’s freedom of information (FOI) regime.

The Albanese government’s performance on delivering transparency this way is a mixed bag.

First, the good news: the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner is better resourced, first-instance processing times have improved, and more of the reviews received by the OAIC are being finalised.

But the plaudits end there.

Whereas the proportion of requests granted in full stood at 59% in 2011–12, by 2023–24 it had fallen to just 25%.

Over the same period, outright refusals have ballooned from 12% to 23%.

The precipitous decline in the “refusal gap” (the difference between the proportion of requests granted in full and those refused) is alarming.

Moreover, it’s difficult to have confidence in the correctness of these refusals. In 2023–24, almost half of initial decisions were found to be flawed following internal review.

Processing timeframes are also cause for significant concern. Average processing time for Office of the Australian Information Commissioner reviews has blown out from 6 months in 2016-17, to 15.5 months in 2023-24.

Fixing the mess

Of course, numbers are not a full story. But they also cannot be denied, and these tell a damning story for government.

So how could they be addressed?

The Senate should adopt an independent legal arbiter to oversee claims for public interest immunity. This would discourage secrecy by providing an independent review mechanism for parliament to check the government’s immunity claims.

For this reform to work, the Senate must not shy away from flexing its enforcement muscles either. The government must know that lack of transparency has consequences.

In response to the freedom of information crisis, there’s a number of reforms that could improve transparency. These cover:

• legislative changes such as clarifying that existing applications are not invalidated with a change in minister or portfolio title

• greater resourcing to support information officer training and ongoing monitoring

• and increasing parliamentary oversight of the regime.

Transparency is not an elite concern, but one of those who are otherwise not in the room. It is the peoples’ concern. Governments, however, have incentives to keep the status quo.

So even though Labor spoke a big transparency game in opposition, they have done little in government. We need to demand that they do.

The author would like to thank Catherine Williams, Executive Director of the Centre for Public Integrity, for her contributions to this article.

Gabrielle Appleby, Professor of Law, UNSW Law School, UNSW Sydney

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

Loneliness is not a word often associated with young people. We tend to think of our youth as a time spent with family, friends and being engaged with school and work activities. Loneliness is an experience we may be more likely to associate with older people.

In a new report looking at loneliness in young Australians, we found 43% of people aged 15 to 25 feel lonely. That’s more than two in five young people.

While one in four felt lonely when asked, one in seven had felt lonely for at least two years (what we call persistent loneliness).

There’s more we should be doing in Australia to address loneliness among young people and more broadly.

What else did we find?

In this report, we analysed data from the Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia survey from 2022–23. This helped us understand what sort of factors increase the risk of loneliness among young people.

We found having poor physical health and mental health can double (or more) the likelihood of persistent loneliness among young people.

Life circumstances, as well as socioeconomic and behavioural factors, also play a role, as shown below.

Worryingly, young people who report persistent loneliness are over seven times more likely to experience high or very high psychological distress compared to those who aren’t lonely.

But loneliness in young people should not be seen just as a mental health issue. Research shows it can have consequences for physical health too. For example, a study published in 2024 found loneliness is linked to early signs of vascular dysfunction (functional changes to the arteries) in adults as young as 22.

Why does loneliness persist?

As well as analysing data, we also interviewed young people aged 16 to 25 from diverse backgrounds about what helps them make healthy social connections, and what hinders them.

One of the things they flagged was a need for safe community spaces. A male participant from metro New South Wales, aged between 22 and 25, said:

After lectures, someone’s hungry, you go to eat together. We used to go to [Name of restaurant] after almost every lecture. Talk or discuss somethings so it gave us that extra opportunity to mingle amongst each other and take that next step towards building a good friendship.

We found technology could both help and hinder social connections. A female from regional Victoria, aged 22 to 25, who identified as LGBTIQ+, told us:

If you’re in school or something like that and you don’t really have […] many people within your community to look to, it’s really nice being able to connect with people and make those friends online.

On the flip side, a female participant from metropolitan Victoria, aged between 16 and 18, said:

a lot of maybe like mean stuff or like bullying and stuff happens over the Internet […] there’s a big group chat and like everyone’s texting on it or something. And then a lot of the time, people will break off into a smaller chat […] or they’ll break off into one on one and be like, ohh, do you see what she said?

The high cost of living was also regarded as a hindrance to maintaining social connections. As a male aged 22 to 25 from metro NSW told us:

you’ll go on [a] drive [with friends] or whatever […] but that is so like incredibly expensive. Having to pay for your own car and like petrol and insurance and maintenance. Sometimes it’s hard to […] even like […] sit down in peace and have a chat. All the cafes will close at 2 and by the time everyone gets out of their jobs, you’re having to go to a restaurant and [you’re] spending 50 dollars.

So what can we do?

Loneliness has long been treated as a personal issue but it’s increasingly clear we have to shift our approach to include community-wide and systemic solutions.

The World Health Organization’s Commission on Social Connection recently released a report pointing to loneliness as a public health, social, community and economic issue.

In Australia, the economic burden of loneliness stands at A$2.7 billion each year for associated health-care costs including GP and hospital visits.

And there are additional costs including lower workforce productivity and educational outcomes that have yet to be accounted for.

Some countries have already developed and implemented strategies to address loneliness. In 2023, Denmark, for example, commissioned the development of a national loneliness action plan led by a consortium of organisations. This was underpinned by an investment of around 21 million Danish kroner (roughly A$5 million) over 2023–25.

Australia now stands at a crossroads.

Australia needs a national loneliness strategy

A national strategy underpinned by evidence and by lived experience is crucial to effectively address loneliness. This approach would:

• coordinate efforts across sectors: health, education, social services and business

• identify effective strategies that should be included in a comprehensive response, and the principles to guide their delivery in communities and other settings

• highlight sub-groups at risk of persistent loneliness who should be prioritised within population-wide strategies

• commit to the delivery of a national awareness campaign that can educate the public and reduce stigma around loneliness.

With the right national strategy, we will be able to increase our capacity to help all Australians, not just young people, connect in meaningful ways.

If this article has raised issues for you, or if you’re concerned about someone you know, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. You can learn more about youth loneliness and how to help at Ending Loneliness Together.

Michelle H. Lim, Associate Professor, Sydney School of Public Health, University of Sydney and Ben J. Smith, Professor of Public Health, University of Sydney

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

Is there anything you can do to protect your superannuation from dodgy providers or questionable financial advice? And if someone rings you out of the blue and tempts you with a better return on your savings – what should you do?

Around 12,000 Australians with A$1.2 billion in retirement savings have been caught up in three collapsed or frozen funds: First Guardian, Shield and Australian Fiduciaries.

People have described being cold-called or seeing ads on social media, suggesting they could earn more by leaving their current super fund. Several financial advisers linked to these funds have now been banned for giving “inappropriate advice” to clients, containing “false and misleading statements”.

As a former financial adviser and now researcher, here are the questions I wish more people asked to screen out scammers and dodgy financial advisers faster – and places to seek help if you need it.

What do I do if someone calls with an unexpected sales pitch?

The first thing you need to know is that in Australia we have anti-hawking legislation. This prohibits people making cold calls or unsolicited face-to-face approaches for financial products, such as superannuation.

If you get a phone call like that, the official advice is now to hang up immediately. If they persist, you could say:

I didn’t request this cold call. Did you know you’re breaking the law and I can report you?

They will probably put the phone down! They know they’re not doing the right thing. If they keep talking, hang up.

Block their number. Tell a family member if you need help. If you’ve shared personal information, call your super fund or bank.

I’m thinking of switching super funds. What should I ask first?

Whether you’re talking to a super fund or a financial adviser, my first three questions would be about their fees, what’s known as “the 4Ps” – philosophy, people, process and performance – and risk profile.

What are the fees?

Don’t just look at a super fund’s returns: look closely at their fees.

Your super fund statement will disclose how much administration, insurance premiums, transactions, buy/sell spread and investment fees and costs are being deducted.

High fees charged by a trustee eat up your super balance over time. If a fund earns 7% annually and charges fees of 0.63% annually, then your actual return is only 6.37%.

Is the fund a good match on “the 4 Ps”?

Go to the provider’s website to understand whether the fund’s philosophy reflect your core beliefs about investing and risk.

Learn about the reputations of the people behind the fund who lead and invest your money.

Find out what process they use to select and manage investments. Finally, consider how well and consistently the fund has performed over the past five to ten years.

What’s the risk profile?

Super funds classify investment options into risk profiles (such as conservative, balanced or growth) to provide you with investments to match your risk tolerance and age.

You can find a fund’s risk profile on the fund’s website under investment options, in the product disclosure statement and target market determination.

How can I compare my super fund?

Want to check if your retirement savings are in an underperforming fund? For the past few years, the Australian Prudential Regulation Authority (APRA) has called out MySuper funds that aren’t performing to standard.

Compare funds with the Australian Tax Office’s YourSuper Comparison Tool.

How I can find out if a financial adviser’s been in trouble?

On advisers, you can investigate their reputation or past complaints at:

• MoneySmart’s financial advisers register to confirm registration, qualification and authorisations
• banned and disqualified register to see if they’re authorised to provide financial products and services
• register of disciplinary action for Financial Advice Association members who’ve been investigated by the conduct review committee.

If you’re comfortable using OpenAI, such as ChatGPT or CoPilot, you can try searching with the following prompts.

• “Can you find any complaints or disciplinary actions against (name of adviser/fund)?”
• “What is the public reputation of (adviser/fund) in financial forums or news?”
• “Has (adviser/fund) been mentioned in any ASIC enforceable actions, bans or media reports?”

More action promised, but not yet delivered

There are echoes in what’s allegedly happened with First Guardian and Shield of Storm Financial’s collapse in 2009, which also hit thousands of people.

There are bad apples in every industry. Whether it’s in finance or medicine, it’s often colleagues who know who the dodgy operators are. Then it’s a question of whether anyone does anything about it.

In the case of First Guardian and Shield, other financial advisers helped raise the alarm – unfortunately several years before the corporate watchdog, the Australian Securities and Investments Commission, acted.

The commission says they’re now working with the federal government on more “reform options”. But that won’t help the thousands of people currently without access to their retirement savings, uncertain how much of those funds they’ll recover.

You can seek free counselling and advice from the National Debt Helpline (1800 007 007); Mob Strong Debt Helpline (1800 808 488) for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people; or the Consumer Action Law Centre.

Disclaimer: this is general information only and not to be taken as financial advice.

Angelique Nadia Sweetman McInnes, Academic in Financial Planning, CQUniversity Australia

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

Australia’s First Nations history stretches back many tens of thousands of years, rich in depth and diversity.

Archaeological research has revealed much about this deep past, but it has rarely captured the gestures of the ancestors – their movements, postures and physical motions. Material traces like tools and hearths tend to survive; fleeting movements usually do not.

Newly published research in the journal Australian Archaeology has revealed something different: traces of hand movements preserved in soft rock deep within GunaiKurnai Country.

In a limestone cave in the foothills of the Victorian alps, a team of researchers led by the GunaiKurnai Land and Waters Aboriginal Corporation in partnership with Monash University and international archaeologists from Spain, France and New Zealand studied finger impressions dragged into the walls and ceilings. They reveal the hand movements of ancestors from thousands of years ago.

The glittering Waribruk

The cave, referred to by GunaiKurnai Elders as Waribruk, contains a pitch-black chamber beyond the reach of natural light. To enter and mark these walls, the ancestors would have needed artificial light: firesticks or small fires.

The cave’s deeper interior walls became soft over millions of years as underground waters penetrated the limestone, slowly weathering and dissolving the rock into cavernous tunnels.

The remaining wall surfaces and ceilings became spongy and malleable, much like the texture of playdough.

Over time, cave-dwelling bacteria living on the soft, moist rock produced luminescent microcrystals, so that today, the walls and ceiling glitter when exposed to light.

It is on these glittering surfaces that the finger grooves are found.

We don’t know exactly when they were made, but people would have needed artificial light to reach this part of the cave. They would have either carried firesticks or lit fires on the ground.

Archaeological excavations below and near the panels failed to uncover evidence of fires on the ground, but we did find millimetre-long fragments of charcoal and tiny patches of ash, likely dropped embers from firesticks.

These were found buried in the cave floor under and near the decorated walls. They date between 8,400 and 1,800 years ago, about 420 to 90 generations past.

This, then, is the best estimate for how long ago the old ancestors moved through the dark tunnels of the cave, firelight in hand, to create the finger impressions on the walls.

Rare ancestral gestures

What they made when they dragged their fingers along the soft rock surfaces deep in the cave is remarkable, revealing rare evidence of ancestral gestures: fleeting bodily movements captured in soft cave surfaces.

On one panel, 96 sets of grooves were recorded. The first marks run horizontally, made by multiple fingers, sometimes both hands side by side. Later, vertical and diagonal grooves were added, intersecting the earlier ones.

Among them are two parallel sets of narrow impressions, only 3 to 5 millimetres wide for each finger. They are each set a short distance apart, indicating they were made by a small child. However, they’re so high up, the child must have been lifted by an adult.

Deeper in the cave, a low ceiling panel bears 262 grooves above a narrow clay bench sloping steeply toward a creek bed. The grooves indicate people moved along the ledge, crawling, sitting, or balancing to reach the ceiling.

Farther along, 193 grooves trace a path above the creek bed. Fingers were pressed into the soft ceiling, gradually releasing 1.6 metres farther along as the people walked forward.

All impressions point the same way, suggesting arms and hands raised overhead, capturing a deliberate, embodied gesture as the ancestors moved deeper into the cave.

A place only few could enter

Altogether there are 950 sets of finger grooves deep within Waribruk. Their meaning remained unclear for years, but a close analysis of where the marks appear, and where they don’t, offers key insights.

The grooves are always located in areas where calcite microcrystals coat the cave walls or ceiling, sometimes just extending past the glitter’s edges. They never appear in areas of the cave where the soft walls are without glitter.

Crucially, they occur far from any archaeological evidence of domestic life: no hearths, no food remains, no tools.

This absence matters. GunaiKurnai oral traditions hold that such caves weren’t used for ordinary living. They were only frequented by special individuals, mulla-mullung – medicine men and women who wielded powerful knowledge.

Mulla-mullung healed and cursed through ritual, using crystals and powdered minerals as part of their practice.

In the late 1800s, GunaiKurnai knowledge-holders told the pioneer ethnographer Alfred Howitt about the powers of these crystals, and of the caves. The role of mulla-mullung, they explained, was usually passed on from parent to child, and when a mulla-mullung lost their crystals, they lost their powers.

The finger grooves at Waribruk matches these traditions. They are not casual decorations. They are deliberate gestures, linked to crystal-coated surfaces, made in places only a few could enter.

The grooves reflect movement, touch, and sources of power for special individuals in the community: an embodied record of people interacting with the sacred.

What survives is not just ancient “rock art”. These are the gestures of ancestors, mulla-mullung it now seems, who ventured into the deepest darkness of the cave to access the power of the glittering surfaces.

Through these finger trails, we glimpse not only a physical act, but a cultural practice grounded in knowledge, memory and spirituality. A momentary movement, preserved in stone, connecting us to lives lived long ago – and breathing the cave to life through the actions of the ancestors and culture.

Acknowledgements: The authors are just three of the 13 authors of the journal article, including Olivia Rivero Vilá and Diego Garate Maidagan, who undertook the photography to create the digital 3D models of the panels to record and measure the size of the finger grooves.

Russell Mullett, Traditional Custodian — Kurnai, Indigenous Knowledge; Bruno David, Professor, Australian Research Council Industry Laureate, Monash University, and Madeleine Kelly, Research Associate, College of Science and Engineering, Flinders University

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

Australia has flourished as an export powerhouse for decades. Much of this prosperity has been driven by the nation’s natural endowment with two important raw products for producing steel the traditional way: iron ore and metallurgical coal.

Worth more than A$100 billion in 2024, Australia’s iron ore shipments to China make up about 55% of everything we export there. But a transformation has been taking place in China’s steel industry, which is under intense pressure to decarbonise.

Earlier this year, Beijing formally expanded its national emissions trading scheme to cover steel production. And just this month, it issued another decree requiring steelmakers to increase their share of green energy in steel production.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s recent visit to China may have looked like a celebration of normalised diplomatic or trade ties. Behind the scenes was a quiet but critical economic pivot.

Australia’s economic future depends on whether it can green its exports fast enough to meet the decarbonisation needs of its biggest market.

A greener China

In China, no new permits for coal-based steelmaking appear to have been issued since early 2024. However, China has been approving new, greener steelmaking capacity, using electric arc furnace (EAF) technology, the main low-emissions technology in steel.

These furnaces use high-voltage electric arcs, powered ideally by green energy, to melt scrap steel or what’s known as direct reduced iron (DRI). Through that process, they limit carbon emissions by reducing the use of thermal coal for electricity and metallurgical coal for iron making in blast furnaces.

In total, China has now installed enough electric arc furnaces to produce more than 160 million tonnes of steel annually. That’s about the same as the total steel output of Japan and the United States combined.

China’s current 10% share of steel production from electric arc furnaces still remains below the country’s 15% target. But overall, China’s total domestic steel production continues to fall. With real estate, infrastructure and heavy industry slowing, steel consumption is forecast to drop by more than 20% this decade.

Rather than prop up its old blast furnaces, rapidly falling green energy prices and increased capacity should allow China to accelerate its shift towards green steel.

Why Australia is so exposed

China’s transition directly threatens two pillars of Australia’s export model: coal and iron ore.

The use of thermal coal is poised to decline as China ramps up renewables and needs to burn less coal for electricity.

The other coal type exported from Australia, metallurgical coal (sometimes called “coking” coal), is needed for the traditional “basic oxygen process” of making steel. This is already being squeezed by lower demand and the shift to green steel production.

In the past five years, Australia’s metallurgical coal exports have already fallen by about 15%, despite persistent predictions for growing demand.

Australian iron ore reserves, meanwhile, are primarily composed of hematite, meaning they’re less suited for green steelmaking. Unprocessed, these reserves lack the grade needed for direct reduction using green hydrogen. That incentivises Chinese mills to move to cleaner inputs from elsewhere.

This transformation won’t be immediate. But the nature of long-term investment cycles means Australia faces a choice: start integrating into these greener supply chains, or face key national assets becoming stranded.

Invest in a green future or face irrelevance

Australia can adjust to this new reality. While coal may not have much of a future, iron ore can be processed to make it suitable for green steel production. Yet, significant investment in research and development is required to produce competitive green iron pellets from hematite.

For some in the industry, this transition is already under way. Fortescue, for example, has committed to real net-zero emissions by 2030, without relying on offsets. It is also investing in the development of green iron products. This is not just for climate leadership, but to preserve competitiveness.

The company is also pushing for Australia to adopt a national 75% emissions reduction target by 2035.

Albanese’s trip might mark a turning point

Ambition alone won’t suffice. Australia also needs demand and policy certainty to attract domestic and international investment — including from China.

That’s where Albanese’s recent trip to our biggest trading partner may mark a turning point. One of the most consequential outcomes of this trip could turn out to be the establishment of a new policy dialogue on steel decarbonisation.

This signals an intent from the Australian and Chinese governments to align on standards, contracts and investment frameworks — not just for iron ore, but for green iron, hydrogen and low-carbon steel.

But talk is cheap. Turning this dialogue into real outcomes will require Australia to address difficult questions. Can Australian companies secure sufficient demand from China to justify investments in green supply contracts — not just for iron ore, but for hydrogen, green iron or even finished steel?

And can Australia attract international investors – including from China – to green energy and iron processing, despite recent decisions by Australia’s Foreign Investment Review Board to block or unwind certain Chinese investments?

Unlocking investment

New financial instruments may also be needed to unlock investment. One option is green steel certificates.

Similar to renewable energy certificates (RECs), green steel certificates would allow producers to generate a credit for producing green steel that can be sold to interested “green” buyers, while the steel itself could be used in close-by markets to avoid emissions related to long-distance transport.

While much of the commentary on Albanese’s trip revolved around diplomacy and geopolitics, its real legacy may be economic.

As China continues – and in all likelihood, accelerates – its transition to a low-carbon model, Australia can no longer count on sustained demand for its coal and iron ore exports.

Christoph Nedopil, Director Griffith Asia Institute, Griffith University

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

In Australia, there is growing recognition that children and young people are not just witnesses to domestic, family and sexual violence, but victim-survivors in their own right.

While we are getting better at understanding how coercive control operates in adult relationships – particularly where men use it against women – much less attention has been given to how children experience this kind of abuse, especially when it comes from a parent or caregiver.

New research interviewing teenage victim-survivors reveals how parents can coercively control their children under the guise of parental discipline.

What is coercive control?

Coercive control is a pattern of abusive behaviours used to instil fear, dominate or isolate someone over time. It can include:

• physical violence

• sexual abuse

• surveillance

• threats

• humiliation

• limiting access to money

• technology-facilitated abuse

• animal abuse, among many other abusive tactics.

Focusing largely on adult victim-survivors, research has found experiences of coercive control can have cumulative and long-lasting negative impacts.

Studies of children show how coercive control can erode a child’s mental health, self-esteem and sense of safety.

Fear, guilt and manipulation

For young people, within the context of the family, coercive control may be perpetrated by parents, step-parents, caregivers, siblings and other family members. The tactics used may mirror those seen in adult contexts.

But there are different circumstances at play for children. They are typically dependent on their caregivers, still mentally developing, and often have limited access to external support.

My new report, Silence and Inaction, released by the South Australian Royal Commission into Domestic, Family and Sexual Violence, draws on interviews with 53 young people aged 13–18 who have experienced different forms of domestic, family and sexual violence in that state.

In this study, young victim-survivors spoke of rules imposed by abusive adults in their family to control their friendships, communication, bodily autonomy and emotional expression. These were often enforced through fear, guilt or manipulation. One child told me:

I kicked the wall when I was eight, and my parents came in and they stripped my entire room bare, just got rid of everything […] I was either in my room or was at school […] I got water brought to me, food brought to me three times a day […] they said, “You have abused this home. It was a loving place, and you’ve abused it so when people do things wrong, they go to prison”. I was very fearful of my parents.

Several young people described experiences that reflect the dynamics of coercive control, even if they did not use that language themselves. They spoke of environments where control, surveillance and isolation were constant, and where resistance or independence was met with punishment.

Experiences of gaslighting

Several young victim-survivors interviewed described being made to feel “crazy” or “overdramatic” when they challenged the behaviour they were experiencing. Others were punished for asserting boundaries or seeking help.

A number of young people described experiences of gaslighting – being told their memories or feelings were wrong or exaggerated.

This was particularly apparent among young people who had tried to speak up about the violence they were experiencing. One young victim-survivor told me:

I was very much gaslighting myself, and then also was being gaslit for years prior by my father and not made to feel that I could ever tell anyone.

Some young victim-survivors described beginning to question their own perceptions or feeling responsible for the harm they experienced. One young person said:

I always have a fear in my head that everything I’ve said and done [is] just a massive lie, which is why I documented a lot of things […] I have photos and videos of things that have happened […] it kind of keeps me a little bit sane.

For the young people interviewed, the dynamics of coercive control were further compounded by their legal and financial dependence on the person using violence.

Young people described having limited avenues to escape or resist the abuse, and having little access to alternative sources of care or trusted adults for support.

Discipline or control?

Many of the young people I interviewed said the abuse they experienced was explained away by parents as “discipline”.

Reasonable parenting involves setting boundaries and enforcing rules through clear communication and respect for a child’s emotional and physical safety. What the young people in the study described went well beyond that.

The young people interviewed described being physically punished – through beatings, slaps or threats – as a way of “correcting” behaviour or “teaching respect”.

For young people, this led to confusion and self-doubt about whether what they experienced “counted” as abuse.

This mislabelling of abuse as discipline was particularly difficult for young people to challenge when it was reinforced by religious, cultural or generational norms. In some cases, violence was deeply embedded in family tradition and viewed as an expected method of parenting.

Young people interviewed expressed a strong desire for this cycle to be broken, including through education for caregivers. One young victim said:

it’s not just kids who need to learn – adults need to unlearn the stuff they were taught too.

The need for change

Several young people believed some parents may be unaware of the impacts of these forms of punishment. They called for targeted awareness campaigns and community education. One young victim-survivor suggested:

they feel that is still part of discipline, whereas they are actually going extra miles […] I think parents too need to be educated on how they treat their children.

Several young people said their experiences of abuse were often minimised or dismissed as necessary or appropriate acts of discipline by extended family, caregivers or other adults in their community.

This highlights the need to better engage families and communities to change understandings of discipline, particularly through culturally responsive, trauma-informed approaches to education.

We must develop deeper understandings of coercive and controlling behaviours as they are experienced by children and young people in families.

Without such awareness, there is a risk that controlling behaviour will continue to be minimised as “strict parenting”, or young people’s disclosures will be dismissed.

These experiences highlight the problem of the normalisation of violence in some households and the need for greater prevention and early intervention efforts, both for young people and caregivers.

Kate Fitz-Gibbon, Professor (Practice), Faculty of Business and Economics, Monash University

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

The Albanese government has decided to include YouTube accounts in its ban on access to social media for those under the age of 16.

The decision will be controversial with many social media users, especially young people, and face resistance from the company. YouTube, owned by Google, has threatened to sue if it were included in the ban.

The government said in a statement that it was “Informed by advice from the eSafety Commissioner”.

The eSafety Commissioner, Julie Inman Grant, said in her advice to the Minister for Communications Anika Wells last month, “YouTube currently employs persuasive design features and functionality that may be associated with harms to health, including those which may contribute to unwanted or excessive use”.

Apart from YouTube, platforms that will be age restricted are Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok, and X, among others.

Platforms will face fines up to $49.5 million if they are found to fail to take responsible steps to prevent underage account holders using them.

Young people would still be able to access YouTube through a search, but would be unable to set up an account.

Argument has raged about whether YouTube should be included in the ban, with those opposed to capturing it arguing it has educational value to younger people.

“YouTube is a video-sharing platform, not a social media service, that offers benefit and value to younger Australians,” a YouTube spokesperson said in its defence.

A range of online gaming, messaging apps, health and education services are being exempted from the ban. “These types of online services have been excluded from the new minimum age obligations because they pose fewer social media harms to under 16s, or are regulated under different laws,” the government said in a statement.

The ban comes into effect on December 10 this year. Age-restricted social media accounts are defined as services that allow users to interact and post material.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said:

Our government is making it clear – we stand on the side of families. Social media has a social responsibility and there is no doubt that Australian kids are being negatively impacted by online platforms so I’m calling time on it.

Social media is doing social harm to our children, and I want Australian parents to know that we have their backs.

Wells said there was no perfect solution to keep people safer online, “but the social media minimum age will make a significantly positive difference to their wellbeing. The rules are not a set and forget, they are a set and support.”

Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

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

Parents are often told fruit is “bad” because it contains sugar, prompting concerns about how much fruit they should allow their child to eat.

This message has been fuelled by the “sugar-free” movement, which demonises sugar with claims it’s fattening and causes diabetes. The movement promotes arbitrary lists of foods to avoid, which often include kids’ favourites such as bananas and berries.

But like many claims made by the diet industry, this one isn’t backed by evidence.

Naturally occurring versus added sugars

Sugar itself isn’t inherently harmful, but the type of sugar kids eat can be.

The good news is whole fruits contain naturally occurring sugars that are healthy and provide kids with energy. Whole fruits are packed with vitamins and minerals needed for good health. This includes vitamins A, C, E, magnesium, zinc and folic acid. All fruits are suitable – bananas, berries, mandarins, apples and mangoes, to name just a few.

The insoluble fibre in fruit skins also helps kids stay regular, and the soluble fibre in fruit flesh helps keep their cholesterol in a healthy range, absorbing “bad” cholesterol to reduce their long-term risk of stroke and heart disease.

Added sugars – which add calories but no nutritional value to kids’ diets – are the “bad” sugars and the ones to avoid. They’re found in processed and ultra-processed foods kids crave, such as lollies, chocolates, cakes and soft drinks.

Added sugars are often added to seemingly healthy packaged foods, such as muesli bars. They’re also hidden under 60-plus different names in ingredient lists, making them hard to spot.

Sugar, weight and diabetes risk

There’s no evidence backing claims that sugar directly causes diabetes.

Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease that can’t be prevented or cured and has no connection to sugar consumption. Type 2 diabetes is typically caused when we carry excess body weight, which stops the body from working efficiently, not sugar intake.

However, a diet high in added sugars – found in many processed, ultra-processed foods (for example, sweet and savoury packaged snacks) – can mean kids consume excess calories and gain unnecessary weight, which may increase their chance of developing type 2 diabetes as they get older.

On the other hand, research shows that kids who eat more fruit have less abdominal fat.

Research also shows fruit can reduce the risk of type 2 diabetes, with one study finding kids who ate 1.5 servings of fruit daily had a 36% lower risk of developing the disease.

Nutritional deficiencies

A diet high in added sugars can also result in nutritional deficiencies.

Many processed foods offer low-to-no nutrition, which is why dietary guidelines recommend limiting them.

Kids filling up on these foods are less likely to eat vegetables, fruits, whole grains and lean meats, producing a diet lacking in fibre and other key nutrients needed for growth and development.

But these “discretionary foods” make up one-third of Aussie kids’ daily energy intake.

My advice? Give kids fruit in abundance

There’s no need to limit how much whole fruit kids eat – it’s nutritious, filling and can protect their health. It’s also going to fill them up and reduce their desire to scream out for the processed, packet food that is low in nutrition, and calorie-rich.

Just go easy on juiced and dried fruits because juicing leaves the goodness (the fibre) behind in the juicer, and drying strips fruits of their water content, making them easy to overconsume.

The nutritional guidelines recommend just two serves of fruit a day for those nine years of age and older, 1.5 serves from 4-8, one serve from 2–3, and half a serve from 1–2 years. But these guidelines are dated and need to be changed.

We do need to reduce kids’ sugar consumption. But this needs to be achieved by reducing their intake of processed foods that contain added sugars, rather than fruit.

Added sugars aren’t always easy to spot, so we should focus on reducing kids’ consumption of processed and packet foods and teaching them to rely on fruit – “nature’s treats” – as a way to keep unhealthy sugars out of their diets.

Nick Fuller is the author of Healthy Parents, Healthy Kids – Six Steps to Total Family Wellness.

Nick Fuller, Clinical Trials Director, Department of Endocrinology, RPA Hospital, University of Sydney

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

You’re so ugly it hurts.

Maybe if you lost some weight, someone would actually like you.

No filter can fix that face.

These are the sorts of comments teenage girls see online daily, via social media, group chats, or anonymous messages. While some may dismiss this as teasing, these comments constitute appearance-related cyberbullying.

Our previous research shows appearance-related cyberbullying is one of the most common and harmful forms of online abuse of young people. It not only hurts feelings – it changes how teens, particularly girls, see themselves.

In a new study, we’ve looked at brain images of teenage girls viewing appearance-related cyberbullying. We’ve found even just being exposed to online body shaming directed at others can activate regions of the brain linked to emotional pain and social threat.

What is appearance-related cyberbullying?

Appearance-related cyberbullying is any online behaviour that targets the way someone looks. This includes comments about their face, clothes or body. It often happens in public forums, such as comment sections or social media posts, where other people can see it, join in or share it.

The most damaging type focuses on someone’s body, such as their weight, shape or size. These messages don’t need to be long or explicit to hurt. Sometimes a single word, hashtag or even emoji is enough.

While appearance-related bullying can affect anyone, previous studies have shown teenage girls are particularly vulnerable.

During adolescence, the brain is still developing – especially the parts that shape self-esteem and help us make sense of how others see us. This means teenagers can be more affected by what people say about them.

What’s more, girls often feel strong societal pressure to look a certain way. This combination makes body shaming especially harmful.

How common is it?

In a survey of 336 teenage girls we published last year, 98% had experienced some form of cyberbullying. For 62% of them, the abuse targeted their appearance.

Most of those girls said this bullying had lasting effects on their body image and mental health, with 96% saying it made them want to change how they looked. More than 80% felt they needed to consider cosmetic procedures.

Studies from around the world have shown appearance-related cyberbullying is a strong predictor of body dissatisfaction, which is one of the biggest risk factors for eating disorders in teenage girls.

What does it do to the brain?

To understand how body-shaming content affects girls on a deeper level, we designed a brain imaging study.

First, we created a set of social media posts based on typical comments teenage girls see online. Some posts were neutral, while others included body shaming comments.

More than 400 girls rated how realistic and emotionally powerful these posts were. This helped us validate the content so it could be used in current and future studies on how young people respond to body shaming online.

We then invited 26 girls aged 14 to 18, from the Longitudinal Adolescent Brain Study – a five-year research project at our university seeking to better understand how the teenage brain develops and how this relates to mental health – to take part in a brain scan study.

We used functional MRI, a technique that shows which areas of the brain are more active during certain experiences. Alongside the scans, participants completed questionnaires about their recent experiences of cyberbullying and their body image.

When girls viewed body-shaming posts, we found certain brain regions “lit up” more than others. These included areas involved in emotional pain, self-image, and social judgement. These are regions the brain uses to interpret how others see us, and how we deal with feelings such as shame or rejection.

Girls who had recently been cyberbullied showed more activity in memory and attention regions. This suggests they were reprocessing earlier, painful experiences. Girls with more positive body image, meanwhile, showed calmer, more regulated brain responses, suggesting healthy self-image might be protective.

Girls are affected even when they’re not targeted

Notably, the girls in our study were viewing posts aimed at others – not being subjected to bullying directly. But even so, we saw changes in the way their brains reacted, and how they felt about their own bodies seemed to affect these reactions.

This tells us something important: body-shaming content doesn’t just hurt the person it targets. When appearance is constantly judged and criticised, it can change what girls think is normal or acceptable. It may also affect how their brains respond to social and emotional situations.

What needs to change?

Appearance-related cyberbullying is not just about teenage conflict. It’s a wider, societal issue. Social media platforms reward content that grabs attention, even when it causes harm.

All of this is happening during a sensitive period of brain development, where social feedback shapes how teenagers see themselves and others.

To reduce harm, we need to act on multiple levels:

• start early: while some schools offer lessons on body image and online safety, these topics are not taught consistently. Many young people say they want more support in dealing with appearance-related pressure online

• support parents and educators: adults need tools, resources and language to talk with young people about what they see online, without shame or blame

• hold platforms accountable: social media companies should strengthen reporting systems, and better moderate content that may promote appearance-related abuse such as “before-and-after” posts or other viral trends that target how someone looks

• celebrate all body types: schools, media and influencers can help by showing real people with different body types and focusing on strengths such as kindness, talent, or what bodies can do.

Adolescence is a time of major change in how teenagers think, manage emotions and build relationships. What teenagers experience during these years can shape how they see themselves and understand the world.

Online body shaming may seem like just words on a screen. But if we want the next generation to grow up confident and well, we need to take it seriously.

In Australia, if you are experiencing body image concerns, you can contact the Butterfly Foundation’s national helpline on 1800 33 4673 (or use their online chat).

Taliah Jade Prince, Postdoctoral Research Fellow in Youth Mental Health and Neuroimaging, University of the Sunshine Coast and Daniel Hermens, Professor of Youth Mental Health & Neurobiology, University of the Sunshine Coast

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

In late June, the Scientific Advisory Group for the Origins of Novel Pathogens (SAGO), a group of independent experts convened by the World Health Organization (WHO), published an assessment of the origins of COVID.

The report concluded that although we don’t know conclusively where the virus that caused the pandemic came from:

a zoonotic origin with spillover from animals to humans is currently considered the best supported hypothesis.

SAGO did not find scientific evidence to support “a deliberate manipulation of the virus in a laboratory and subsequent biosafety breach”.

This follows a series of reports and research papers since the early days of the pandemic that have reached similar conclusions: COVID most likely emerged from an infected animal at the Huanan market in Wuhan, and was not the result of a lab leak.

But conspiracy theories about COVID’s origins persist. And this is hampering our ability to prevent the next pandemic.

Attacks on our research

As experts in the emergence of viruses, we published a peer-reviewed paper in Nature Medicine in 2020 on the origins of SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID.

Like SAGO, we evaluated several hypotheses for how a novel coronavirus could have emerged in Wuhan in late 2019. We concluded the virus very likely emerged through a natural spillover from animals – a “zoonosis” – caused by the unregulated wildlife trade in China.

Since then, our paper has become a focal point of conspiracy theories and political attacks.

The idea SARS-CoV-2 might have originated in a laboratory is not, in itself, a conspiracy theory. Like many scientists, we considered that possibility seriously. And we still do, although evidence hasn’t emerged to support it.

But the public discourse around the origin of the pandemic has increasingly been shaped by political agendas and conspiratorial narratives. Some of this has targeted our work and vilified experts who have studied this question in a data-driven manner.

A common conspiracy theory claims senior officials pressured us to promote the “preferred” hypothesis of a natural origin, while silencing the possibility of a lab leak. Some conspiracy theories even propose we were rewarded with grant funding in exchange.

These narratives are false. They ignore, dismiss or misrepresent the extensive body of evidence on the origin of the pandemic. Instead, they rely on selective quoting from private discussions and a distorted portrayal of the scientific process and the motivations of scientists.

So what does the evidence tell us?

In the five years since our Nature Medicine paper, a substantial body of new evidence has emerged that has deepened our understanding of how SARS-CoV-2 most likely emerged through a natural spillover.

In early 2020, the case for a zoonotic origin was already compelling. Much-discussed features of the virus are found in related coronaviruses and carry signatures of natural evolution. The genome of SARS-CoV-2 showed no signs of laboratory manipulation.

The multi-billion-dollar wildlife trade and fur farming industry in China regularly moves high-risk animals, frequently infected with viruses, into dense urban centres.

It’s believed that SARS-CoV-1, the virus responsible for the SARS outbreak, emerged this way in 2002 in China’s Guangdong province.

Similarly, detailed analyses of epidemiological data show the earliest known COVID cases clustered around the Huanan live-animal market in Wuhan, in the Hubei province, in December 2019.

Multiple independent data sources, including early hospitalisations, excess pneumonia deaths, antibody studies and infections among health-care workers indicate COVID first spread in the district where the market is located.

In a 2022 study we and other experts showed that environmental samples positive for SARS-CoV-2 clustered in the section of the market where wildlife was sold.

In a 2024 follow-up study we demonstrated those same samples contained genetic material from susceptible animals – including raccoon dogs and civets – on cages, carts, and other surfaces used to hold and transport them.

This doesn’t prove infected animals were the source. But it’s precisely what we would expect if the market was where the virus first spilled over. And it’s contrary to what would be expected from a lab leak.

These and all other independent lines of evidence point to the Huanan market as the early epicentre of the COVID pandemic.

Hindering preparedness for the next pandemic

Speculation and conspiracy theories around the origin of COVID have undermined trust in science. The false balance between lab leak and zoonotic origin theories assigned by some commentators has added fuel to the conspiracy fire.

This anti-science agenda, stemming in part from COVID origin conspiracy theories, is being used to help justify deep cuts to funding for biomedical research, public health and global aid. These areas are essential for pandemic preparedness.

In the United States this has meant major cuts to the US Centers for Disease Control and the National Institutes of Health, the closure of the US Agency for International Development, and withdrawal from the WHO.

Undermining trust in science and public health institutions also hinders the development and uptake of life-saving vaccines and other medical interventions. This leaves us more vulnerable to future pandemics.

The amplification of conspiracy theories about the origin of COVID has promoted a dangerously flawed understanding of pandemic risk. The idea that a researcher discovered or engineered a pandemic virus, accidentally infected themselves, and unknowingly sparked a global outbreak (in exactly the type of setting where natural spillovers are known to occur) defies logic. It also detracts from the significant risk posed by the wildlife trade.

In contrast, the evidence-based conclusion that the COVID pandemic most likely began with a virus jumping from animals to humans highlights the very real risk we increasingly face. This is how pandemics start, and it will happen again. But we’re dismantling our ability to stop it or prepare for it.

Edward C. Holmes, NHMRC Leadership Fellow and Professor of Virology, University of Sydney; Andrew Rambaut, Professor of Molecular Evolution, University of Edinburgh; Kristian Andersen, Professor; Director of Infectious Disease Genomics, The Scripps Research Institute, and Robert Garry, Professor, Department of Microbiology and Immunology, Tulane University

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

This week, the World Health Organization (WHO) raised concerns about a surge in the number of cases of a mosquito-borne viral infection called chikungunya.

Diana Rojas Alvarez, a medical officer at the WHO, highlighted an outbreak occurring across La Réunion and Mayotte. These small islands in the Indian Ocean were previously hit during an epidemic of the virus in 2004–05.

Between August 2024 and May 2025, more than 47,500 confirmed cases and 12 deaths from chikungunya were reported in La Réunion. Some 116 cases were reported in Mayotte between March and May this year.

But more than 100 countries have seen local transmission of this virus to date, and the WHO has also flagged recent cases in Africa, Asia and Europe.

So, what is chikungunya, how does it spread, and should we be worried here in Australia?

What are the symptoms?

The main symptoms of chikungunya include fever, joint pain and joint swelling. However, other symptoms may include headache, rash, muscle pain, nausea and tiredness. On rare occasions, chikungunya can be fatal.

Some people are more prone to having worse symptoms, including infants, older adults, and people with pre-existing medical conditions.

Symptoms can take up to 12 days to appear, but most people start to experience symptoms three to seven days after being bitten by an infected mosquito.

There’s no specific treatment for chikungunya other than managing the pain with medications, such as paracetamol.

Most people recover after a few weeks, but some people can experience ongoing tiredness and joint pains for many months, or even years.

How does it spread?

Infected female mosquitoes spread chikungunya. The mosquitoes become infected when they feed on a person carrying the virus in their blood. Once infected, the virus reproduces in the mosquito, and then they can transmit it to other people when the mosquitoes bite them.

There are more than 3,000 different types of mosquitoes on Earth, but only two are commonly involved in transmitting chikungunya: Aedes aegypti and Aedes albopictus.

A. aegypti and A. albopictus look similar and can be easily confused. Both are about 4–7 millimetres in size and have similar black and white markings on their thorax and legs.

Both are day-time biters, unlike other mosquitoes that typically bite at dawn or dusk. They’re known as “ankle biters” because they mainly bite exposed legs and ankles. These aggressive mosquitoes bite multiple times and are known to follow people indoors to get their meal of human blood.

These species also transmit dengue virus, yellow fever virus and Zika virus.

Where does chikungunya occur?

Chikungunya was first documented in Tanzania in 1952. While outbreaks initially occurred across Africa and Asia, over time the virus has spread around the world. As of December 2024, local transmission of chikungunya had been reported in 119 countries and territories.

The 2004–05 epidemic was the largest so far, with hundreds of thousands of people infected. The epidemic started in the Indian Ocean islands, but eventually spread across to India. Since then, outbreaks have become more frequent and widespread.

A key contributor to the proliferation of chikungunya is climate change. Warmer temperatures, altered rainfall patterns, and increased humidity are creating ideal conditions for mosquito breeding. This allows the mosquitoes to adapt to new environments and therefore expand into new habitats.

The increase is also partly because chikungunya has evolved and been introduced into new populations, whose immune systems have not previously been exposed to the virus.

So, should we be worried?

While evidence suggests A. aegypti has been present in northern Queensland since the 1800s (outbreaks of dengue occurred in Townsville in 1879 and Rockhampton in 1885), A. albopictus is a more recent arrival, first documented in the Torres Strait in 2005.

A. aegypti mosquitoes are now found in areas across north, central and southern Queensland, while A. albopictus is currently still only found in the Torres Strait.

Nonetheless, to date, there have been no recorded cases of chikungunya transmission within Australia.

But cases do occur in people who have recently travelled overseas, most often to South and Southeast Asia, or the Pacific Islands.

In 2023 there were 42 cases of chikungunya recorded in Australia, 70 in 2024, and 90 so far in 2025. Previous years have seen figures above 100, however numbers in recent years may have been lower due to COVID impacting travel.

As climate change continues to support the spread of A. aegypti and A. albopictus, the risk of transmission within Australia increases.

That said, there is some evidence we might be lucky in Australia, with potential immune protection from a related local virus, Ross River virus.

I’m travelling, what should I do?

Two vaccines are approved for use in the United States against chikungunya, but there’s currently no vaccine approved in Australia. The only way to reduce your risk of infection is to avoid being bitten by mosquitoes.

People travelling to places where chikungunya is known to occur should wear loose-fitting and light-coloured clothing with enclosed shoes, use insect repellent, close windows and consider using mosquito bed nets. Taking these steps also reduces the risk of other mosquito-borne infections, such as dengue fever.

If you travel to a place where chikungunya occurs and you get bitten by mosquitoes, monitor yourself for signs and symptoms.

If you become unwell, see a doctor immediately.

Jacqueline Stephens, Associate Professor in Public Health, Flinders University and Jill Carr, Professor, College of Medicine and Public Health, Flinders University

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