When the police and intelligence agencies of the five nations of the Five Eyes intelligence community come together and release a report, it’s a significant event.

The report, released on December 6, is the first of its kind. It’s remarkable that it focuses on youth radicalisation, giving case studies of young teenagers being radicalised through involvement in online platforms.

As the Australian Federal Police (AFP) point out, every single one of the counter-terrorism cases in Australia this year have involved minors or very young adults. ASIO says about 20% of its priority counter-terrorism cases involve minors.

Over the past four years, the AFP and its police partners have conducted 35 counter-terrorism investigations involving minors, with the youngest child being just 12. Most have resulted in charges being laid. Two teenagers, aged 14 and 16, have been convicted.

Tragically, by the time a police investigation commences, it’s often difficult to avoid life-changing prosecution and legal action. So this report, involving the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom, is a wake-up call. It asks for parents, teachers and others working with teenagers to pay attention to the signs of online radicalisation.

It’s a pity, to say the least, that the report doesn’t do a better job of spelling out these early warning signs (broken links and clumsy acronyms don’t help). But the intent is sincere and the need urgent.

How does Australia deal with this?

In Australia, community workers and police have long focused on three areas of observable behavioural change:

• changes in expressed ideology or belief

• changes in relationships, including forming new friendships and abruptly breaking up with old friends

• atypical changes in actions involving transgressive behaviour, such as getting into trouble at school or possibly with police.

When there is change occurring simultaneously across these domains, there’s a high likelihood of something going on in a young person’s life, such as grooming and radicalisation, which requires intervention.

Individually, these sorts of changes are common in the lives of teenagers. But all three at once, particularly when there is an escalating level of change over time, is a good indication that more attention needs to be taken.

Fortunately, Australia has good systems in place, particularly in the large states of Victoria and New South Wales, to receive help by reaching out through police but involving trained professionals like psychologists and youth workers.

Help can be given to, first of all, determine what might be going on, seeing what sort of problem there is, and, if need be, making early interventions.

With the help of the public these sorts of early interventions, even though they involve liaising with police, we can avoid engaging with the law-enforcement system and the laying of criminal charges.

From the case studies in the Five Eyes report, it’s clear it’s not just terrorist groups such as Islamic State that are the problem. Neo-Nazi and other far-right extremist groups pose a threat, as well extremist networks involving a seemingly strange mixture of religious or political or other beliefs.

How does radicalisation happen?

It’s important to understand that radicalisation is essentially a social process. It can involve peers coming together and exacerbating behaviour or egging each other on to more extreme actions.

But more often, it involves an adult preying on a minor and grooming them to do things for an organisation or cause that the young person has little idea about at the outset.

This kind of exploitation often follows parallel lines to child sexual exploitation. From the perspective of a young teenager, they experience somebody showing interest in them, treating them as important and offering friendship. It’s primarily that need for friendship and acceptance that enables predatory actors to exploit young people.

In the report, it’s also clear that when a young person is going through a period of trauma, experiencing a loss, or some other disturbance, they are particularly vulnerable.

In some cases, a lonely child who is not neurotypical is preyed on and their social awkwardness exploited, with the false promise of friendship used to take them into a dark and harmful place.

For young people who have grown up online, social media can form part of the dangerous environment that exposes them to recruitment and radicalisation.

But it is not social media in itself, nor even extremist content, that causes the problem. It’s the relationships they form online.

Consequently, while there is a logic in limiting the access of young teenagers to social media, we need to be careful not to cut off lines of communication and drive them underground.

The key priority for those involved in the lives of young people, whether parents or teachers, is to converse with them. Understand the gaming and social platforms young people are on, the people that they meet and the ideas they come across.

It also means adults can talk about children before they’re radicalised and too difficult to reach.

There are good resources available, including training and networks of early responders. For these to work, parents and friends need to pay attention and speak up when they have concerns.

Greg Barton, Chair in Global Islamic Politics, Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation, Deakin University

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

Australia is on the cusp of a once-in-a-generation transformation, as our energy systems shift to clean, renewable forms of power. First Nations peoples, the original custodians of this land, must be central to – and benefit from – this transition.

That is the key message of the federal government’s new First Nations Clean Energy Strategy, launched on Friday. The government has committed A$70 million to help realise its aims.

I was part of a committee that helped guide the government on the strategy. It involved more than a year of consultation with First Nations communities across Australia, plus input from industry and state and territory governments.

Australia has pledged to reach net-zero greenhouse gas emissions by 2050. Of the renewable energy infrastructure needed to achieve this, about half will be developed on First Nations land.

First Nations peoples have cared for Country for 65,000 years. Australia’s renewable energy transition must be on their terms. The strategy released today will guide this process – so let’s take a look at what it contains.

1. Get clean energy into First Nations communities

The strategy emphasises the need to establish renewable energy in First Nations communities and make homes more energy-efficient. Electricity supply to these communities is often limited, unreliable and more expensive than elsewhere in Australia.

Many remote communities across northern Australia also rely on back-up diesel power for much of the day. This is a highly polluting source of energy and hugely expensive to service.

Some remote communities use pre-paid electricity cards to access energy. This is expensive and those who cannot afford to pay often “self-disconnect” from the supply.

And remote First Nations houses – many of which are poorly built and insulated – can become dangerously hot which causes significant health problems.

2. Enable equitable partnerships

Equitable partnerships between First Nations peoples, industry and governments allow First Nations people to consent to projects on their terms. It also reduces risks, costs and delays for proponents.

The strategy aims to increase the capacity of First Nations peoples to actively take part in decisions about clean energy projects and policies.

First Nations people should have access to culturally appropriate advice and resources. This will arm them to better understand the opportunities and risks of, say, a solar farm proposed near their community.

It also means helping First Nations people participate in and benefit from projects – for example through skills training or help negotiating agreements.

3. Ensure First Nations people benefit economically

In times of significant economic change, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples have usually been left behind. This time, history must not repeat.

Acceleration in Australia’s clean energy industry will create major economic and employment opportunities. First Nations peoples must be supported to seize them. For instance, First Nations peoples comprise just 1.9% of Australia’s clean energy workforce, which presents an enormous opportunity for increased participation.

Actions identified in the strategy include supporting First Nations energy businesses, including ensuring access to financial support. Other measures include developing a First Nations workforce by building on success stories such as the Indigenous Ranger program.

Recognition of Aboriginal land rights has led to a vast estate owned or managed by Indigenous people. The majority is in remote areas in northern Australia, far from population centres. But the Indigenous estate in south-eastern Australia is not insignificant and will prove vital in the new clean energy economies.

4. Put Country and culture at the centre

The strategy calls for First Nations peoples’ connection to land and sea Country, and their cultural knowledge and heritage, to be respected during the clean energy transition.

It acknowledges that clean energy harnesses the natural elements – such as sun, wind and water – and First Nations peoples’ knowledge of Country, developed over millennia, can greatly improve the way projects are designed and implemented.

It says governments and the clean energy industry must become more “culturally competent” so they can work collaboratively with First Nations peoples.

Towards autonomy and self-determination

Actions in the strategy are designed to complement the Closing the Gap agreement, which aims to close the health and life expectancy gap between First Nations peoples and non-Indigenous Australians. Closing the Gap targets include:

• realising economic participation and development
• social and emotional wellbeing
• access to information and services so First Nations people can make informed decisions about their lives.

Several priorities identified in the strategy are already in place, to some degree.

For example, the Capacity Investment Scheme – under which the government underwrites the risk of investing in new renewable energy projects – requires proponents to demonstrate First Nations engagement and commitments.

And New South Wales’ Electricity Infrastructure Roadmap requires energy proponents to meet First Nations targets for employment and procurement.

However, much work is needed to translate the new strategy into real benefits on the ground, and to realise the aspirations of First Nations peoples for autonomy and self-determination.

A hopeful initiative

First Nations peoples are already highly vulnerable to the damaging effects of climate change. It threatens to make their Country unlivable, leading to a new wave of dispossession. For that reason and others, we need the clean energy transition to work.

The strategy is an optimistic and hopeful initiative. Done right, it will ensure the continent’s original custodians benefit socially and economically from the enormous changes ahead.

Over the last 60 years, various government policies in Australia have sought to boost First Nations economic development. But the efforts have been stymied by a lack of capacity and resources.

If this new strategy is to succeed, further funding and ongoing monitoring is needed to ensure its aims are achieved.

As Australia bids to host the United Nations climate change conference in 2026, in partnership with Pacific nations, we must show a commitment to elevating the rights and interests of Indigenous peoples around the world – including on home soil.

Heidi Norman, Professor, Faculty of Arts, Design and Architecture, Convenor: Indigenous Land & Justice Research Group, UNSW Sydney

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

Recently, a landmark coronial inquiry into the deaths of four Indigenous women from domestic and family violence in the Northern Territory released its findings after a year-long investigation.

The coroner aimed to understand the systemic responses to an “epidemic of violence that is our national shame”, to then propose improvements to prevent future deaths.

This is not the first inquiry of its kind in the NT. This raises questions of what will be different this time and what actions will be taken.

Simultaneously, the government released its response to the Senate Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous women and children. Mentioned quietly amid a flurry of end-of-year bills, it said little of substance that will help save Indigenous women’s lives.

In a year when domestic and family violence has often been at the centre of public discussion, there’s still a lack of political appetite to help Indigenous women.

Coronial constraints

Judge Elisabeth Armitage delivered 35 recommendations to guide efforts in preventing future deaths from domestic violence in the NT. These were all informed by evidence presented during the inquiry.

However, while these recommendations will be submitted to the attorney-general and relevant agencies under the Coroner’s Act, there’s nothing to guarantee they’ll be implemented.

The agencies must report back to the coroner within three months on their response to the recommendations. But as with all coronial inquests, whether or not they’re enacted is up to the government.

Understanding the limitations of the Coroner’s Act is crucial. There have been myriad previous recommendations in the NT and across the country that have seen inconsistent follow-through and a lack of accountability in tracking their effectiveness in preventing deaths over time.

Anticipating this outcome, Armitage announced she would conduct a second major inquiry into domestic, family and sexual violence in August 2025. It will investigate eight deaths, allegedly related to domestic violence, since June 2024 in the NT. It will further be an opportunity, she said, to assess progress in implementing her recommendations from this inquest.

No new action

At the same time, the federal government responded to the murdered and missing Indigenous women and children senate inquiry. It “noted” the recommendations.

It was a disappointing re-announcement of a commitment of $4.4 billion in “new” funding to gender-based violence. This was previously announced in response to a rapid review that included $3.9 billion to support frontline legal assistance services.

The latter has already been widely critiqued as not being “new” funding but anticipated expenditure to maintain existing services.

They also reiterated that they released the first ever Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Action Plan to support the National Plan to End Violence against Women and Children. The action plan also included a $194 million investment.

An inaugural National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Family Safety Plan also has government support. To be launched in 2025, it would be informed by the work of the Senate inquiry.

Amid all this, there is nothing mentioned about any new funding commitments for Indigenous women and children in response to the inquiry.

Indeed, Greens Senator Dorinda Cox, who helped to establish the inquiry, expressed disappointment that the government has only addressed two of the ten recommendations.

With 12 Indigenous women having lost their lives to violence nationally between June and early November 2024, the pressing question remains: where is the national outrage? Moreover, where is the action?

Sceptism instead of support

Despite there being ready engagement and attention to domestic violence deaths generally by the Australian public, the deaths of Indigenous women are rarely seen in the national headlines.

The profound impact of death on families and communities is also unseen. Some communities suffer more than others.

Although some may grow weary of this issue, we can’t look away. The statistics reveal Indigenous women are seven times more likely than non-Indigenous women to be killed by a violent partner.

The ramifications of these deaths extend beyond loss of life. They affect children, leading to further systemic failures that have historically let down Indigenous women.

As families are left to cope with their loss, they often receive minimal support for their specific needs. In their grief, they typically form support groups with others who have faced similar tragedies, while navigating police and court systems.

Often, these systems didn’t protect their loved ones.

While victim services for those who have lost a loved one to murder exist, their support is limited and they are not culturally grounded to Indigenous communities. This can force families to seek help from nonspecialist services or forgo assistance altogether.

Our research highlights that the systems designed to protect vulnerable people respond inadequately to Indigenous women. Cripps (one of the authors of this piece) reviewed the cases of 151 Indigenous women lost to intimate partner violence. Through coronial data she found, like Judge Armitage, that many of these deaths are entirely preventable.

Soon to be released research by Longbottom (also an author of this piece) identified multiple systemic failures that contribute to reduced support, which in turn puts the lives of Indigenous women at increased risk. These include lack of training, inconsistent application of domestic violence guidelines and delayed service responses.

Significant delays from emergency personnel compound the issue further. Responses to calls for help are incorrectly downgraded to welfare checks, even when an active protection order exists.

During the NT inquiry, it was revealed that police records frequently included notations suggesting a woman “may make false allegations”. Armitage highlighted that such remarks not only undermine the credibility of the victims, but also adversely affect the urgency and effectiveness of subsequent police responses.

This pattern of behaviour reflects a broader issue within the system that often prioritises scepticism over immediate support for women in risky and vulnerable situations.

Follow the evidence

Our research highlights the importance of Indigenous communities leading response development. Families’ stories enhance these responses, while Indigenous experts provide supporting evidence, and services ensure effective operational support.

Carceral measures, such as increased policing, are ineffective. This underscores the need for a place-based, culturally grounded approach that connects with Indigenous communities, not punishes them.

Aligning with the NT coroner’s findings, our research emphasises the urgent need for systemic reform.

However, we believe the coroner’s recommendations, along with those from the Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous women, do not sufficiently address the existing issues. Governments often can and do selectively choose the recommendations they are going to implement, despite evidence to do otherwise.

Responding to domestic and family is complex. Preventing deaths demands sustainable, evidence-based reforms that are both accountable and adaptable to local situations.

These reforms must be shaped by the voices of those with direct experience, ensuring their insights guide policies and interventions. It’s crucial that systems are open to scrutiny and feedback, continuously evolving to meet the needs of those affected.

Everyone has a responsibility to act. Our women’s lives are at stake and we must commit to creating a society where they are protected and valued. Inaction is not an option.

Kyllie Cripps, Director Monash Indigenous Studies Centre, CI ARC Centre of Excellence for the Elimination of Violence against Women (CEVAW), School of Philosophical, Historical & International Studies (SOPHIS), School of Social Sciences (SOSS), Faculty of Arts, Monash University and Marlene Longbottom, Associate Professor, Indigenous Education & Research Centre, James Cook University

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

When Finlay Browne died at just 16 years old, “Down syndrome” was listed on his death certificate as a cause of death.

But Finlay did not die of Down syndrome. A coroner found earlier this year that the teenager died due to complications from a bowel obstruction, and noted “issues concerning the adequacy of care and treatment” provided at his local hospital.

Since Finlay died his family have spoken out many times about the need to improve health care for people with an intellectual disability.

But sadly Finlay is not alone. Our new study published in The Lancet Public Health shows Australians with disability are around four times more likely to die than people without disability.

Our research

We looked at census data from more than 15 million Australians aged 0–74 between 2011–20, and analysed death certificate information of those who died during this period (around 463,000 people).

We found people with disability are dying of conditions such as cancer, heart disease, chronic lung conditions and diabetes at a much higher rate than the rest of the population.

Men with disability are dying at almost four times the rate of men without disability. Meanwhile, women with disability are dying at almost five times the rate of their non-disabled peers.

While our study drew on large data sets and used complex statistical techniques, we are conscious that the dots on our graphs represent many premature and preventable deaths of people like Finlay.

Why the disparity?

The diseases causing the early deaths of many Australians with disability are generally more common among people living in disadvantaged circumstances. We know poverty, poor-quality housing and exclusion from the health system contribute to early death. These circumstances are more common among Australians with disability compared to the overall population.

People with disability face the same issues as many other Australians when trying to access good health care, such as lack of availability, rising costs and long wait times. But they also face additional challenges. For example:

• buildings where health services are located are not always accessible to people with disability

• people with disability sometimes experience discrimination by health-care staff including GPs, nurses and hospital staff

• people with disability often see multiple health professionals for the same health conditions and report a lack of communication between health professionals treating them.

Unfortunately the results of our study are not surprising. People with disability, families and advocacy organisations have spoken for many years about poor health outcomes for people with disability, as well as early deaths that, with the right action, could have been prevented.

The recent Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability heard directly from people with disability about the impacts of poverty, poor housing and discrimination in the health system on health and wellbeing.

What can we do?

Our study is the first of its type and size in Australia, which is telling.

Historically, understanding patterns in causes of death has informed our public health priorities. But up until now, patterns in causes of death for people with disability have largely not been prioritised, gathered or analysed. With inadequate data, public health efforts have systematically neglected people with disability.

Yet poorer health outcomes for people with disability are not inevitable.

We need to see concerted, coordinated action across metropolitan, regional and rural Australia to prevent more unnecessary deaths. As a nation, we need to tackle the conditions in which many people with disability live – starting with poverty and the lack of affordable, accessible housing.

We also need to make health care more accessible and affordable for people with disability.

But, none of this will be enough if we don’t confront discrimination in health care head on. This will involve making changes in policies, processes and systems at all levels of health care that adjust for the needs of people with disability.

We also need to think about whether our general disease prevention strategies, some of which have been hugely successful, are reaching people with disability. For example, are people with disability able to access routine screening in the same way as others? Or are they missing out?

Ultimately, we need to debunk the myth that poor health is part and parcel of having a disability. What is inevitable is that Australians with disability will keep dying before their time unless we take action, and make the health and wellbeing of people with disability a national priority.

Yi Yang, Research Fellow, Melbourne School of Population and Global Health, The University of Melbourne; George Disney, Research Fellow, Social Epidemiology, The University of Melbourne, and Kirsten Deane, Deputy Director, Melbourne Disability Institute, The University of Melbourne

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

Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) impacts the ability to maintain attention to tasks. Often, it also involves impulsive behaviour – saying or doing things without stopping to think first – as well as hyperactivity.

ADHD is the most common developmental disorder in childhood, affecting 5–8% of children worldwide.

Not all children and adolescents with ADHD need medication, particularly if they are functioning well at school and at home. Children with ADHD can also be supported with behavioural and educational strategies, as well as by working on the associated problems that commonly occur alongside ADHD, such as learning difficulties, emotional problems like anxiety, social challenges and autism spectrum disorder.

However, around four in five children with ADHD are prescribed medication.

One of the most common concerns parents have about ADHD medication is their child’s appetite and weight. So what can families expect? And how can parents optimise their child’s calories and nutrition?

Medication can reduce symptoms

Decades of research shows stimulant medication is the most effective way to reduce the main symptoms of ADHD. It can improve the ability to sustain attention and complete tasks, and reduce impulsive behaviours.

Two stimulants are approved to treat ADHD: methylphenidate (known by brand names such as Ritalin) and dexamphetamine (known by brand names such as Vyvanse). Both come in short- and long-acting forms.

These medicines work well in about 80% of patients and often improve the child’s school performance, relationships and self-image.

But they don’t suit all children. A minority become irritable, withdrawn or socially blunted. They may start finding it’s hard to have fun, for example.

If parents observe these or other negative effects, they can stop the medication. The child will return to their normal self by the next day, and their clinician and parents can consider alternatives.

The most common side effect of stimulant medication is reduced appetite. This happens in most children who take stimulants, for the hours the medication is active. This often means they are not hungry during the school day and have little or no lunch.

How can you boost your child’s food and nutrition intake?

When starting on stimulants, some children lose weight.

But they usually regain this over time as they get used to a different pattern of eating that includes a similar amount of daily calories. This might include:

• eating a hearty breakfast before the medication kicks in. Stimulant medications typically take about 30 to 60 minutes to start working (long-acting medications have a slower onset than short acting)

• eating enjoyable snacks throughout the day, such as muesli bars or chips

• having a substantial after-school snack. Some kids have a mini meal when they get home from school, and then another main meal at around 7pm.

Nutrition and energy-dense breakfasts or after school snacks could include a full cream milk smoothie with banana, protein powder and peanut or almond butter.

High-calorie powdered food supplements – which are rich in protein and essential vitamins and minerals – in milk are another option. These are available from the chemist or supermarket.

If the child’s ADHD symptoms are only problematic at school, they will only need to take the medication on school days, and not on weekends or school holidays. They can catch up with eating on non-medication days.

It’s also important to use the dose that achieves maximal benefit with tolerable side effects. The aim is often to reduce the child’s symptoms to close the levels of children without ADHD.

Using these strategies, most children can maintain a healthy weight while they take stimulant medication.

What if my child is still losing weight?

Occasionally, weight loss is more problematic, and alternate solutions need to be considered.

These might include:

• using a short-acting medication (these usually last for 3–4 hours) to just cover the mornings. Or adding an afternoon dose, after the child’s appetite has returned and they have eaten lunch

• trying one of the non-stimulant ADHD medications, such as atomoxetine (Strattera) or guanfacine (Intuniv). These are not usually as effective as the stimulants, but can be helpful to reduce ADHD symptoms. They have their own side effects, but do not suppress appetite

• using a lower dose of the stimulant (aiming to provide some benefits with fewer side effects) in combination with a non-stimulant medication.

What about children’s height?

The other potential growth side effect of stimulant medication is on children’s height. There is some evidence that if a child takes stimulant medication consistently for many years, particularly in higher doses, they may lose 1–2 cm off their adult height.

However, it would be unusual for ADHD medication to stunt growth so much that a child has to stop taking it. Optimising nutrition is the best way to prevent this.

What else do doctors and parents look out for?

Children and adolescents with ADHD who are treated with medication need to be monitored regularly. They should have appointments with their prescribing doctor (usually a paediatrician) or GP at least every six months to monitor the treatment’s effectiveness and side effects.

Their medical review is likely to include a discussion of academic, social and emotional functioning – sometimes with the aid of questionnaires completed by teachers and parents – and a physical check-up including measurement of height, weight and blood pressure.

Whether or not a child with ADHD takes medication, it’s important in all cases to pay attention to lifestyle factors that can influence their health, including their sleep, nutrition, exercise and use of electronic devices.

Daryl Efron, Associate Professor, Department of Paediatrics, The University of Melbourne

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

It’s that time of year again … and we’ve invited 30 of our writers, from fields as disparate as wildlife ecology and mathematics to literature and politics, to share their best books of of 2024. Of course, best books lists are subjective, relying on what people have read and remembered. But we always love finding out which books lingered for our writers.

This year, the Books & Ideas team set ourselves the hard (but fun) task of picking our own best books too.

Suzy Freeman-Greene’s best book was Hazzard and Harrower: the letters, edited by Brigitta Olubas and Susan Wyndham (NewSouth): four decades of correspondence between two fiercely intelligent writers as vivid, felt and dramatic as a fine novel. (Honorable mention: Samantha Harvey’s Orbital).

James Ley’s pick was Blue Lard (NY Review Books) by dissident Russian novelist Vladimir Sorokin. It is not for the faint-hearted: a bizarre and baffling mashup of science fiction and alternative history, cut with outrageous grotesquery and irreverent parodies of classic Russian literature. (Honourable mention: Rachel Kushner’s Creation Lake.)

And Jo Case’s best book was Liars (Picador), Sarah Manguso’s electric, vividly poetic fragmented divorce novel (the standout in a fertile 2024 genre): a masterclass in balancing cold precision and blazing emotion. (Honourable mention and close second: Fiona McFarlane’s inventive fictional riff on true crime, Highway 13.)

We’d love to hear your best books of 2024 too – please share them in the comments at the end of this article.

Dennis Altman

There are many ways of reading Jock Serong’s Cherrywood (Fourth Estate), and it helps to know Enid Blyton’s Magic Faraway Tree and the Melbourne suburb of Fitzroy. Regardless, Serong has created a magical world, illuminated by language that is both lyrical and straightforward. Central to the story is the history of a stack of timber, sourced mysteriously from somewhere in the Caucasus, which links two periods of time, divided by 70 years, all flowing together in a wonderful mix of realism and fantasy.

Dennis Altman is vice chancellor’s fellow and professorial fellow, Institute for Human Security and Social Change, La Trobe University.

Robyn Arianrhod

I’ve enjoyed several recent books, including Dava Sobel’s fresh retelling of Marie Curie’s story – and my pick, Jim Baggott and John L. Heilbron’s challenging but compelling Quantum Drama: From the Bohr-Einstein Debate to the Riddle of Entanglement (Oxford University Press). This detailed history of quantum theory includes a terrific explanation of the mysterious “Bell inequality” – which enabled experimenters to prove Einstein’s “spooky” concept of entanglement is real – and a fascinating glimpse into key players’ personal, political and philosophical responses to their bizarre quantum discoveries.

Robyn Arianrhod is an affiliate in the School of Mathematics at Monash University and author of Vector (New South).

Michelle Arrow

Lauren Samuelsson’s witty, illuminating history of the Australian Women’s Weekly’s food pages A Matter of Taste (Monash University Publishing) reveals their influence on how Australians cooked, ate and entertained in the 20th century. It’s also a fascinating account of changing gender roles: food was largely women’s domestic responsibility and could be a chore, but also provided a space of creativity. This is a view of Australia’s past from the kitchen bench, rather than the driver’s seat of the family car. I’ll bet your mum would love it for Christmas.

Michelle Arrow is professor of history, Macquarie University.

Jumana Bayeh

The Sunbird by Sara Haddad (University of Queensland Press) is a short book, a novella, designed to be read in one sitting. It was written after the Gaza war commenced and conveys an urgency to tell the Palestinian story. It focuses on Nabila Yasmeen, a Palestinian woman who lives in Australia because she was exiled from her native Palestine during the 1948 Nakba. The Sunbird jumps across time (1948 and 2023) and space (Palestine and Australia) to capture Nabila’s ongoing displacement and her relentless desire to go home.

Jumana Bayeh is an associate professor in the Faculty of Arts at Macquarie University.

Hugh Breakey

Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation (Allen Lane) makes two key claims. First, the kids are not alright: compared to earlier generations, Gen Z has almost twice the chance of serious mental health disorders and related episodes. Second, a major cause is the smartphone. Problems arise not only from what happens on smartphones, but what doesn’t happen. Children need unsupervised play, physical risk-taking and relationships with actual peers. Haidt recommends social media be banned for those under 16, but he also urges parents to recognise that social media is not the only source of teenage mental health concerns.

Hugh Breakey is deputy director, Institute for Ethics, Governance & Law, Griffith University.

Mridula Nath Chakraborty

In The Distaste of the Earth (Penguin India), Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih, author of Funeral Nights (2021), continues his fabulist storytelling about mythic archetypes, against the backdrop of his beloved Khasi Hills rainforests. Subverting the tragic star-crossed lovers folktale of Manik Raitong the Wretched and Khasi Queen Liang Makaw, Nongkynrih extends oral storytelling traditions to create an utterly irreverential narrative. Part poetry, part philosophy and part critique, this is a fascinating glimpse into a world weary of humankind and wise in its Aesop-like vision of our contemporary moment.

Mridula Nath Chakraborty is senior lecturer, Monash Intercultural Lab, Monash University.

Intifar Chowdhury

I don’t usually pick up memoirs by those who know they’re about to die – they’re unbearably sad. But Alexei Navalny’s Patriot (Bodley Head) is a darkly comedic exception. Surviving a Federal Security Service (FSB) assassination attempt, Navalny returned to Russia to defy Vladimir Putin, knowing the Kremlin wouldn’t let him go. They didn’t. Written from prison, Patriot immortalises his unshakeable hope for a “beautiful Russia”. With sharp wit and boundless courage, Navalny’s story transcends borders, reminding us of the enduring power of resistance. His voice and vision live on.

Intifar Chowdhury is a youth researcher and lecturer in government at Flinders University.

Tom Doig

My discovery of 2024 was Children in Tactical Gear (University of Iowa Press) by Peter Mishler, winner of the Iowa Poetry Prize. It’s a technicolour nightmare of whiteboards and bullets, plastic and product placement. Mainly free verse, there are moments of fixed rhyme and metre – which I usually hate. But I love this: “he stands with me, / barefoot, in a whirlpool / of trash, my dark hair collecting / ballistic ash.” The collection is a bleak, pitiless vision of corporate, consumerist America. It would make a perfect Christmas gift.

Tom Doig is an investigative journalist and lecturer in creative writing, University of Queensland

Charmaine Papertalk Green

One favourite pick for 2024 is Anita Heiss’ Dirrayawadha (Simon & Schuster Australia), a groundbreaking Wiradyuri nation historical novel set at the time of Wiradyuri–colonial contact in rural New South Wales. This book is a reminder to Australia of the truth-telling needed to wipe away the historical colonial amnesia narratives curated to make Aboriginal people invisible – nullius. This book invites deep listening to a Wiradyuri and Australian story, carrying forward resilience, memory and Country.

Charmaine Papertalk Green is a visual artist and poet, and research fellow, School of Allied Health, Western Australian Centre for Rural Health, University of Western Australia.

Nick Haslam

Eighty-five years after his death, is there anything left to say about Freud? Andrew Blauner’s fine collection On the Couch: Writers Analyse Sigmund Freud (Princeton University Press) answers an emphatic yes. A dream-team of leading writers consider subjects ranging from Freud’s first scientific paper (on eel testicles) to the shadowy figure of his wife Martha, and his love of dogs. The book offers lucid, deeply personal reflections on the complicated legacies of psychoanalysis. Is it a failed system, a model of radical doubt, or a humanising corrective to a culture of shallowness and artificiality?

Nick Haslam is professor of psychology, University of Melbourne.

Alexander Howard

Elfriede Jelinek’s The Children of the Dead (Yale University Press), originally published in 1995, is now available in English for the first time, in a masterful translation by Gitta Honegger. It’s a haunting exploration of Austria’s Nazi past and its failure to confront the Holocaust. Hypnotic and unsettling, Jelinek’s darkly satirical novel yokes avant-gardism and popular culture together, offering an unflinching reckoning with history. With antisemitism and the far-right on the rise in Europe, it feels more urgent and relevant than ever.

Alexander Howard is senior lecturer, English and Writing, University of Sydney.

Tony Hughes d'Aeth

The book I most enjoyed this year was Brian Castro’s Chinese Postman (Giramondo). An elliptical meditation on the indignity of ageing and the inevitability of death might not be everyone’s recipe for a relaxing summer read. Yet Abe Quin, Castro’s alter ego, has a downbeat charm, with his limpid turns of phrase, self-deprecation and seething hatred of hypocrisy. In Castro’s work, there is a bleakness teetering on the edge of farce and a pathos bubbling through quotidian reverie, but the situations bounce back on the springs of his irony. Then the humour drops away and we meet a man reflecting on his life with astonishing candour.

Tony Hughes d'Aeth is chair of Australian literature, University of Western Australia.

Allanah Hunt

Murriyang: Song of Time by Stan Grant (S&S Bundyi) is a book you will remember for a lifetime. Grant writes with such deep reverence and reflection around ideas of time, spirituality, history, philosophy and physics. The sections on Grant’s father, Wiradjuri leader Uncle Stan Grant Sr, are the book’s true heart, making me reflect on my own relationship with my parents with deeper understanding. Grant’s book is about building a bridge of love: with parents, with community, even with those who espouse racist ideologies.

Allanah Hunt is lecturer, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies Unit, University of Queensland.

Andy Jackson

Anthologies are so diverse, a reader’s enthusiasm often wanes at certain points. But Woven, edited by Anne-Marie Te Whiu (Magabala Books), is a breathtaking exception. This collection of 15 collaborations between First Nations poets from Australia and overseas is consistently compelling and formally ingenious, with lyrical, political punch. Joy Harjo with Ali Cobby Eckermann, Tony Birch with Simon J. Ortiz, and Raelee Lancaster with essa may ranapiri are standouts. But all the conversations in the book brilliantly enhance solidarities, while allowing differences to cohabit with care.

Andy Jackson is a poet and creative writing lecturer, University of Melbourne.

Philip Johnson

I first read Alice Driver’s reporting on slaughterhouse workers in the US South in the New York Review of Books in 2021. Life and Death of the American Worker (Atria/One Signal Publishers) is the book-length investigation I’ve waited for since. From Arkansas, but reporting for years from Mexico and Central America, Driver was uniquely equipped to get to know the Spanish-speaking workers who prop up the US meat industry. When Covid hit, she was immersed in this world. She offers incredible insights into the expendable lives powering an “essential” industry.

Philip Johnson is lecturer, College of Business, Government and Law at Flinders University. He researches crime and violence in the Americas.

Natalie Kon-yu

In Tell Me Everything (Viking), Elizabeth Strout demonstrates why she is one of the best living writers in the Anglophone world. It’s hard to summarise the plot – there is some narrative tension about a court case, a hard death and a love story – but these are not the point of the book. If there is a point, it is that there is a multitude of conflicting stories within us – and all of them shape us, whether we know it or not.

Natalie Kon-yu is associate professor, creative writing and literary studies, Victoria University.

John Long

Stanley Tucci’s What I Ate in One Year (Fig Tree) is exactly what we all need in these strange times. While Tucci’s prose immediately piques your curiosity about Italian cooking, it dives much deeper than just food. My favourite parts are the unexpected moments of profound humanity as he reflects on the value of family, friendships, mortality and the downsides of being famous. Tucci’s year is exposed in this engrossing, humorous, heartwarming book. A delicious memoir of gastronomy, love, loss, death and pasta. Oh yes, and more pasta!

John Long is strategic professor in palaeontology, Flinders University.

Julienne van Loon

I loved Michelle de Kretser’s Theory & Practice (Text Publishing) for its formal experimentation and for its post-critique flavour. How does de Kretser do both those things and write such a page turner? It’s a disturbing read and a thoughtful one. Disturbing because distrust, betrayal and other familiar exclusionary tactics reproduce themselves in the world of the narrator. Thoughtful because de Kretser urges us to look at the relationship between theory and practice with clear-sightedness and care.

Julienne van Loon is associate professor in creative writing, School of Culture and Communication, University of Melbourne

Peter Mares

The most recent data shows CEOs of Australia’s top listed companies take home 55 times average adult earnings. Yet such inequalities rarely feature in public policy. The focus is on tackling disadvantage and increasing opportunity, without addressing entrenched privilege and unequal outcomes. Poverty is a politically safe topic, argues Ingrid Robeyns. Inequality raises uncomfortable questions about societal structures, political choices and power differences. In a democratic society, we should argue about how much inequality is (un)reasonable. Limitarianism: The Case Against Extreme Wealth (Allen Lane) can help that conversation.

Peter Mares is adjunct senior research fellow, School of Media, Film and Journalism, Monash University.

Vijay Mishra

We have been told authors die in the act of writing. What strikes me about Salman Rushdie’s memoir, Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder (Jonathan Cape), is his engagement with death in its very materiality, its corporeality, as he describes what it is like to be confronted, after the fatwa, with a second death. Written without sentimentality or accusation, this is an extraordinary account that makes us think of death not as a theoretical premise that informs the act of writing, but a living reality for an author who dared to challenge age-old assumptions.

Vijay Mishra is emeritus professor of English and comparative literature, Murdoch University.

Lynda Ng

This year, the Booker judges overlooked a piercing reflection on racial identity in favour of a novel set on a space station. While we may like to believe the existential threat of climate change will ultimately overturn racial politics, Percival Everett’s James (Mantle) forces us to consider the ethics of embracing such a post-racial fantasy. Everett’s reimagining of Mark Twain’s classic Huckleberry Finn imbues the runaway slave Jim with ingenuity, agency and gravitas. His scintillating prose elicits a long overdue reckoning with the literary canon.

Lynda Ng is lecturer in world literature (including Australian literature), University of Melbourne.

Julian Novitz

Alan Hollinghurst’s Our Evenings (Picador) follows Dave Win from his youth in 1960s England through to the era of Brexit turmoil and pandemics. While the history is sweeping, the novel focuses on significant yet understated moments, particularly those that reflect on Dave’s close relationship with his resilient mother and his entanglement with a wealthy family encountered while a scholarship student at boarding school. Hollinghurst’s preoccupations are on display: class, sexuality, race and power, generational shifts, legacies and memories. Dave is an excellent lens for exploring these concerns and perhaps Hollinghurst’s most engaging protagonist to date.

Julian Novitz is senior lecturer, writing, department of Media and Communication, Swinburne University of Technology.

Edwina Preston

My pick is British historian William Dalrymple’s The Golden Road: How Ancient India Transformed the World (Bloomsbury). After hearing him speak about this book in Melbourne a few weeks ago, I purchased and devoured it. It is, in written form, a reflection of Dalrymple’s erudition and passion: a vastly and methodically researched resetting of cultural truths that puts India at the centre of South-East Asian culture and religion, and positions India’s Golden Road as every bit as important as the Silk Road.

Edwina Preston is a novelist and PhD candidate in the School of Culture and Communication, University of Melbourne.

Carl Rhodes

Byung-Chul Han’s The Crisis of Narration (Polity) is an indictment of the loss of community and identity in a world drowning in information and all-too-easy clickbait answers. Narrative, in Han’s words, no longer “anchors us in being”. Storytelling has been reduced to political pitches and advertisements. We are left with “storyselling” where dissemination and manipulation lock us into the moment like a just-swiped selfie. Is all hope gone? It would be hard to describe Han’s book as positive. But The Crisis of Narration offers a provocative, novel and insightful way to reconsider politics and community in the age of information.

Carl Rhodes is dean and professor of organisation studies at UTS Business School.

Euan Ritchie

Observing wildlife and communing with nature brings immense joy to my life. Bill Bailey – extraordinarily talented multi-instrumentalist, actor and quirky comedian – is also known for his adoration of animals. So, it’s unsurprising I was instantly drawn to My Animals and Other Animals: A Memoir of Sorts (Quercus). A quick skim of the contents hooked me. With stories like Radioactive Sea Lice, Hissing Cockroaches and The Chicken that Went Bad, I simply had to read on. Complete with gorgeous drawings, it’s the delightful, heartwarming romp you’d expect.

Euan Ritchie is professor in wildlife ecology and conservation, School of Life & Environmental Sciences, Deakin University.

Matthew Sharpe

Future historians will puzzle about how, in 2024, a twice-impeached convicted felon facing indictment for his role in insurrectionary violence was returned to office by popular vote. John Ganz’s When the Clock Broke (Farrar Straus Giroux) will be a work of reference, as it is for anyone today trying to understand “how America cracked up”. Ganz’s scope is sweeping, his prose incisive. He shows that Trump did not come from nowhere. MAGAism is the product of over three decades of radicalisation on the right. Ganz does not preach; he simply reports, leaving readers to draw the links between then and now.

Matthew Sharpe is associate professor in philosophy, Australian Catholic University.

Elfie Shiosaki

Award-winning writer Nam Le’s form-breaking book of poetry, 36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem (Scribner Australia), is a bracing reckoning with identity and representation, each poem a distinct vantage point from which to examine the violence of identity, with both clarity and ambiguity. With unpredictable and destablising movement, Le masters language, its form and its register, only to break it, demonstrating the power of language to erase identity on one hand and resist erasure on the other.

Elfie Shiosaki is associate professor, The Centre for Social Policy Research, Australian National University

Emma Shortis

In the endless stream of hot takes on American politics, Nick Bryant’s The Forever War (Viking) is a breath of fresh air. This beautifully written book reminds us that Trump is both symptom and cause, both new and old. The Forever War meticulously makes sense of the unresolved contradictions of American history, unpicking tired mythology to clearly argue that Trump – and his support – is the product of that inescapable history.

Emma Shortis is adjunct senior fellow, School of Global, Urban and Social Studies, RMIT University.

Wanning Sun

Ying Qian’s Revolutionary Becomings (Columbia University Press) is a fascinating study of how Chinese documentary cinema shaped the revolutionary politics of the 20th century. It traces the emergence of early documentaries about colonial war and transnational revolutionary networks. The author analyses how documentary impacted political and social change during the Mao and post-Mao periods. She is deeply empathetic to revolutionaries’ aspirations and actions, but insists on learning hard lessons from China’s revolutionary past. It promises to be rewarding reading, likely to stimulate scholars, documentary-makers and cinema lovers alike.

Wanning Sun is professor of media and cultural studies, University of Technology Sydney.

Jen Webb

Dominique Hecq’s Volte Face (Liquid Amber Press) is an exquisite collection of prose poems: poems written in sentences and paragraphs rather than lines, while obeying the grammar of poetry rather than prose. The book is crammed with luscious words and impossible juxtapositions that, articulated (by the poet) and contemplated (by the reader), seem entirely true. This work is a “fugue of language”, whose poems eschew reportage. Instead, they work through gestures of recognition, instances of spotting something unexpected from the corner of the eye.

Jen Webb is distinguished professor of creative practice, Faculty of Arts and Design, University of Canberra.

Jo Case, Deputy editor, Books & Ideas, The Conversation

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

So, you’ve enjoyed a picnic in the sunshine. Or you’ve sat on the grass for a twilight concert. But you’ve come away with itchy and scratchy skin.

Could you have an allergy to grass? Or is something else going on?

Grass has tiny hairs

One possible reason we get a rash is the physical structure of grass itself.

Blades of grass are covered in tiny “hairs” (called trichomes), which you can view under a microscope.

These help protect the grass from being eaten by insects or animals, damaged by ultraviolet rays or losing too much water.

Trichomes can also cause tiny scratches to the skin and the skin reacts by becoming red and may feel itchy.

Some species of grass are also firmer or stiffer so may feel more “scratchy” when people sit on them.

Skin is a complex organ and is linked to the immune system. When irritated, the skin and immune system recognise something is happening and release complex chemicals that can cause redness and itching.

People with dry, red, itchy skin conditions often find their skin is extra sensitive to grass and other irritants like fertilisers or sprays. For example, if you have eczema (also called dermatitis) your skin looks and feels dry, as your skin barrier is damaged.

Could it be an allergy?

Grass allergy involves aero-allergens, that is, the grass pollen in the air. Symptoms include runny or a stuffy nose, itchy nose and eyes and even itchy ears.

If you have these symptoms allergy specialists may perform a skin prick test to identify particular aero-allergen triggers.

After the allergist takes your detailed history, drops of various allergens are placed on the forearm, along with a positive and negative control. A sterile lancet pricks the skin through the drop. After 15 minutes the test is read, with positive reactions showing a “wheal and flare” response (a lump like a mosquito bite and redness). The allergist then interprets the findings.

But, in the absence of hay fever-like symptoms, dermatologists may perform allergy patch testing to investigate contact allergies (dermatitis) to specific plants, for example Compositae.

In a patch test the dermatologist places a series of small chambers (or sticky dots) on the back, each one containing a different potential allergen. The test takes several days to produce results. If a reaction develops under a test chamber, the dermatologist may confirm allergic contact dermatitis.

But definitive results are tricky as these two allergy tests can’t tell you if your rash is from physical irritation – such as the tiny scratches – rather than an allergy.

How can I avoid it?

The best way to reduce physical irritation problems with grass it to limit contact. This could involve simple things like wearing long sleeves or pants, or sitting on a rug or towel.

Many Australians do have dry skin, but do not often realise how dry it is. So, applying a basic thick moisturiser to the face and body skin can help place a barrier between the grass and the skin. Sunscreen is also recommended when outdoors.

For people who have dry, red or itchy skin conditions or those who experience itchiness when sitting on the grass, taking antihistamines a minimum of 30 minutes before you sit on the grass may help lessen the itchiness.

How can I calm my skin?

If you do develop a an irritant rash, here are a few tips. You could try

• taking an antihistamine

• rinsing skin with tepid water

• washing off the potential irritants with a non-soap-based bland body cleanser can be helpful. Then, re-apply a layer of thick, bland, fragrance-free moisturiser.

If none of these measures help, see a pharmacist for advice on using an appropriate strength cortisone cream which may help reduce the symptoms.

Be aware of more serious signs of an allergic reaction. If in addition to red bumps and itchiness, other symptoms such as shortness of breath, cough, wheeze, chest tightness or facial swellings develop while sitting on the grass, people may need urgent medical care.

Deryn Lee Thompson, Lecturer in Nursing, University of South Australia

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

Liberal frontbencher Paul Fletcher got a big shock last election in his Sydney seat of Bradfield. Teal candidate Nicolette Boele pushed the result to preferences, leaving her within striking distance for next year’s poll. She has been further helped by the redistribution.

Now the usually mild-mannered Fletcher, a moderate within the Liberal party, has apparently decided no-holds-barred attack is the best form of defence as he and other Liberals fight the teal wave again. But he’s at risk of alienating and insulting the voters he needs to get on side.

In an address to the Sydney Institute on Monday, Fletcher prosecuted two points. He claimed the teals “are a giant green left con job”. And he maintained a minority government would be bad for the country.

There are arguments both ways about minority government. The case Fletcher makes about the teals, however, is hyperbolic.

The teals, he argues, “are very much in the tradition of front groups established by left-wing political operatives which are designed to lure votes away from the Liberal Party by tricking voters about their bona fides”.

The “look and feel” of the campaigns run by teal candidates, including slogans, t-shirts, and videography - “was extremely slick” and “highly consistent across multiple electorates”.

So too were their key campaign issues – “climate change, an anti-corruption commission and the treatment of women in politics.

"Of course it is not an accident that these issues were deployed across multiple campaigns. They were chosen through expensive polling work across the country.”

Fletcher cites as compelling evidence of the teals being a “green left con job” the fact these community movements appeared in Liberal seats, with no sign of them in Labor electorates.

And evidence the teal campaign was designed to “dupe” Liberal voters was that a third of the successful new teal MPs  – that is, two of six – “was the daughter or niece of a long time Liberal MP, with the same name”.

“The strategy was clear: to appeal to traditional Liberal voters who would never vote Labor but who were disenfranchised with the Coalition.”

“The intention was to get people to think, ‘That nice teal candidate could almost be a Liberal. I’ll vote for her.’”

This was “trickery, backed by big money,” according to Fletcher.

Yes, the teals had some big (Climate 200) money, very big, in some instances; yes, they shared some common campaign approaches, and ran on similar issues. And yes, they pitched to disillusioned Liberal voters.

But none of that amounts to “trickery”. The community candidates push in Liberal seats was a loose movement, candidates “networked”, gaining strength from sharing experience and resources. That’s different from a plot or some sort of conspiracy.

The specific teal geography and issues were substantially a reaction against the performance of the Liberal Party and Scott Morrison. This manifestation of the community candidate movement  also grew off the back of the successful push by Cathy McGowan, a regional “community candidate” elected on a different platform, who dislodged an unpopular Liberal in 2013 in Indi.

Fletcher’s reference to the two successful relatives of one-time Liberal MPs just draws attention to the fact that in other days, those women (Allegra Spender, Kate Chaney) might well have been attracted to the Liberal Party. Of course some voters thought they “could almost be a Liberal”.

Fletcher also claims the teals “exploited” the preferential voting system. If we had first past the post voting none of the teals would have won, he said. Indeed. But if we had had first past the post voting, many Liberals would have lost in many elections. Does he want to change the voting system?

He complains the teals were helped by Labor and Greens supporters voting “tactically”. “Left wing voters saw a chance to unseat a Liberal incumbent and voted in large numbers to do so.” No doubt. But if the Liberals had been a more acceptable alternative, they would have had a stronger primary vote and not been so susceptible to being undermined in heartland seats.

Among other lines of attack, Fletcher says the teals have voted with the Greens a lot in parliament. They’ve both “made little difference”, because it’s not a hung parliament, and “made it easier for Labor to govern”, because there are few times when Labor’s majority is on a knife-edge in divisions in parliament.

He says the teals reduce scrutiny of the government because they are allocated question time slots that cut the number of opposition questions, and  shadow ministers have less opportunity for a run of questions. From my observation, the teals’ questions are often sharper than most of those from the opposition.

Fletcher is on stronger, though much-contested, ground on the issue of majority versus minority government.

He argues minority government “leads to chaotic processes” and makes it “virtually impossible to achieve  substantive reform”.

“The stability of the two party system is a good thing.  It has delivered many benefits to Australia.  Stable majority government is a foundational requirement for achieving any serious reform and advancing our nation’s prosperity.”

Anthony Albanese  would agree with him. But critics would counter that minority government can lead to compromise and better outcomes.

“Majority government is at real risk in Australia – in large measure due to the cynical green left con job perpetrated by the political operatives behind the teal movement and their big money backers,” Fletcher says.

Majority government is at “real risk” at this election. The reason is not because all those voters are “conned” but because they have become increasingly fed  up with sub-optimal performances from the major parties. 

Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

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

Publishing is one of many fields poised for disruption by tech companies and artificial intelligence (AI). New platforms and approaches, like a book imprint by Microsoft and a self-publishing tech startup that uses AI, promise to make publishing faster and more accessible than ever.

But they also may threaten jobs – and demand a reconsideration of the status and role of books as cultural objects. And what will be the impact of TikTok owner ByteDance’s move into traditional book publishing?

Microsoft’s 8080 Books

Last week, Microsoft announced a new book imprint, 8080 Books. It will focus on nonfiction titles relating to technology, science and business.

8080 Books plans “to test and experiment with the latest tech to accelerate and democratize book publishing”, though as some sceptics have noted, it is not yet entirely clear what this will entail.

The first title, No Prize for Pessimism by Sam Schillace (Microsoft’s deputy chief technology officer) arguably sets the tone for the imprint. These “letters from a messy tech optimist” urge readers to embrace the disruptive potential of new technologies (AI is name-checked in the blurb), arguing optimism is essential for innovation and creativity. You can even discuss the book with its bespoke chatbot here.

Elsewhere, in the self-publishing space, tech startup Spines aims to bring 8,000 new books to market each year. For a fee, authors can use the publishing platform’s AI to edit, proofread, design, format and distribute their books.

The move has been condemned by some authors and publishers, but Spines (like Microsoft) states its aim is to make publishing more open and accessible. Above all, it aims to make it faster, reducing the time it takes to publish to just a fortnight – rather than the long months of editing, negotiating and waiting required by traditional publishing.

TikTok is publishing books too

Technological innovations are not just being used to speed up the publishing process, but also to identify profitable audiences, emerging authors and genres that will sell. Chinese tech giant and owner of TikTok, ByteDance, launched their publishing imprint 8th Note Press (initially digital only) last year.

They are now partnering with Zando (an independent publishing company whose other imprints include one by actor Sarah Jessica Parker and another by the Pod Save America team’s Crooked Media) to produce a fiction range targeted at Gen Z readers. It will produce print books, to be sold in bookshops, from February.

8th Note Press focuses on the fantasy and romance genres (and authors) generating substantial followings on BookTok, the TikTok community proving invaluable for marketing and promoting new fiction. In the United States, authors with a strong presence on BookTok have seen a 23% growth in print sales in 2024, compared to 6% growth overall.

Access to Tiktok’s data and the ability to engineer viral videos could give 8th Note Press a serious advantage over legacy publishers in this space.

Hundreds of AI self-publishing start-ups

These initiatives reflect some broader industry trends. Since OpenAI first demoed ChatGPT in 2022, approximately 320 publishing start-ups have emerged. Almost all of them revolve around AI in some way. There is speculation that the top five global publishers all have their own proprietary internal AI systems in the works.

Spotify’s entry into the audiobook market in 2023 has been described as a gamechanger by its CEO, and is now using AI to recommend books to listeners. Other companies, like Storytel and Nuanxed, are using AI to autogenerate audiobook narration and expedite translations.

The embrace of AI may produce some useful innovations and efficiencies in publishing processes. It will almost certainly help publishers promote their authors and connect books with invested audiences. But it will have an impact on people working in the sector.

Publishing houses have been consistently reducing in-house staff since the 1990s and relying more heavily on freelancers for editorial and design tasks. It would be naïve to think AI and other emergent technologies won’t be used to further reduce costs.

We are moving rapidly towards a future where once-important roles in the publishing sector – editing, translation, narration and voice acting, book design – will be increasingly performed by machines.

Spines’ CEO and co-founder, Yehuda Niv, has said, when queried, “We are not here to replace human creativity”. He emphasised his belief this automation will allow more writers to access the book market.

Storytel and Nuanxed have both suggested the growth of audiobook circulation will compensate for the replacement of human actors and translators. Exactly who will benefit the most from this growth – authors or faceless shareholders – remains to be seen.

Side hustles, grifts and ‘easy’ writing

I appreciate Schillace’s genuine, thoughtful optimism about AI and other new technologies. (I will admit to not having read his book yet, but did have a stimulating conversation with its bot.) But my mind is drawn back to the techno-utopianists of the 19th century, like Edward Bellamy.

In his 1888 novel, Looking Backward, Bellamy speculates on a future in which art and literature flourishes, once advanced automation has freed people from the drudgery of miserable labour, leaving them with more time for cultural pursuits.

The inverse seems to be occurring now. Previously important and meaningful forms of cultural work are being increasingly automated.

I could be shortsighted about this, of course. The publishing disruption is just getting underway, and we’ve already made some great strides towards dispensing with the admittedly often quite miserable labour of writing itself.

Soon after the launch of ChatGPT, science-fiction magazines in the US had to close submissions, due being inundated with AI-generated short stories, many of them almost identical. Today, there are so many AI-assisted books being published on Amazon, they have had to limit self-publishing authors to just three uploads per day.

AI-assisted publishing enterprises range from side hustles focusing on republishing editions of texts in the public domain, to grifts targeting unsuspecting readers and writers. All these schemes are premised on the idea writing can be rendered easy and effortless.

The use of AI may have other, delayed, costs though.

Can AI be a ‘thinking partner’?

When I was younger, writing and publishing a lousy short story just obliterated my time and personal relationships. Now I can do so with a one-sentence prompt, if I have a mind to – but apparently, this will destroy a lake somewhere.

Of course, as the No Prize for Pessimism bookbot takes pains to remind me, using AI in the writing process needn’t be a matter of lazy auto generation. It can be used for generative drafting, which is then revised, again and again, and integrated into the text.

AI can operate as a “thinking partner”, helping the writer with ideation and brainstorming. The technology is in its infancy, after all: there is bound to be some initial mess. But whatever way it is used, AI will help writers get to publication faster.

8080 Books’ charter offers a lot of rhetorical praise for the form of the book. We are told that books “matter”, that they impart “knowledge and wisdom”, that they “build empathy”. 8080 Books also wants to “accelerate the publishing process” and see less “lag” between the manuscript submission and its arrival in the marketplace. It wants books that are immediate and timely.

Slow can be good

But what is a book if it arrives easily and at speed? Regardless of whether it is AI-generated or AI-assisted, it won’t be quite the same medium.

For much of their history, books have been defined by slowness and effort, both in writing and the journey towards publication. A book doesn’t always need to be up to date or of the moment.

Indeed, the hope might be that the slowness and effort of its production can lead to the book outlasting its immediate context and remaining relevant in other times and places.

Greater speed and broader access may be laudable aims for these publishing innovations. But they will also likely lead to greater disposability – at least in the short term – for both publishing professionals and the books themselves.

Julian Novitz, Senior Lecturer, Writing, Department of Media and Communication, Swinburne University of Technology

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

Australian Year 4 students have achieved their best ever result in a major international assessment of maths and science. Year 8 students, who also did the test, held steady.

The results from the 2023 Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMSS) were released on Wednesday night.

What is TIMSS?

TIMSS runs every four years and has been going since 1995. In 2023, more than 650,000 students from 64 countries did the test.

It isn’t possible to test every Year 4 or Year 8 student (that would take too long and cost too much) so we take a sample. In Australia, this included 13,912 students from 559 Australian schools.

The test was done completely online. It included traditional test items such as multiple choice and short written responses. There were also interactive items where, for example, students could replicate a science experiment in a series of animated on-screen activities.

Students and schools also did questionnaires to give researchers more information about the context in which they are learning.

TIMSS is one of three international assessments in which Australia participates, along with the Progress in International Reading Literacy Study (PIRLS), which looks at Year 4 students’ reading comprehension skills, and the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) which looks at 15-year-olds’ skills in maths, science and reading.

This is on top of Australia’s NAPLAN testing of basic literacy and numeracy skills for years 3, 5, 7 and 9.

What has changed?

A lot of the improvement at Year 4 was due to a significant increase in the percentage of very high performing students. These are students who perform at advanced levels for their year level.

In 2023, one in every eight Australian Year 4 students were very high performers in maths and one in every six were very high performers in science.

This contributed to lifting the proportion of students achieving the Australian-set “National Proficient Standard” (where students have to demonstrate more than elementary skills expected at that year level). This has increased by 11 percentage points in Year 4 maths and 12 percentage points in Year 4 science since 1995.

The performance of Year 8 students has not changed significantly since 1995 or since the last test in 2019.

How did we go compared to other countries?

Countries who did the test include the United States, United Kingdom, Japan, Finland and Germany but not China or India.

Singapore was the top performing country overall in both subjects and age groups.

Only four countries outperformed Australia in Year 4 science, while seven countries outperformed us in Year 8 science. In maths, eight countries were ahead in Year 8 and 14 in Year 4.

Boys are outperforming girls

At both Year 4 and Year 8, Australian boys had a higher score than Australian girls in both maths and science. The gender gap in Year 4 maths was one of the largest of the participating countries.

Our improvement at Year 4 since 2019 was also stronger for boys than girls. At Year 8, girls’ performance declined in this time.

Across the board, there was a greater proportion of very high performing boys than girls. For example, one in six Year 4 boys were very high performers in maths compared to one in ten girls.

Previous international assessments have shown girls have less confidence than boys in maths. We also know a students’ self-belief is linked to their achievement.

So we’ll be looking at the student questionnaire responses over the coming months to see if there are any gender differences attitudes and beliefs about science and maths.

What does this mean?

It is worth noting COVID lockdowns happened between 2019 and 2023 tests. Despite these challenges, Australian students have managed to either maintain a good result (at Year 8) or improve (at Year 4).

The strength of the improvement at Year 4 in science suggests efforts to promote STEM in early education are beginning to see results.

We might see this flow through to the middle years when TIMSS is next tested in 2027. This is when the Year 4 group from 2023 will be in Year 8.

By 2027, we would also expect to see the effect of the updated Australian Curriculum that began to roll out in 2023. This has a greater focus on mastering key skills in maths. So we would hope to see an improvement in maths achievement at the lower end of the scale, alongside the strong results of our very high performers that we saw in 2023.

Nicole Wernert, Senior Research Fellow, Australian Council for Educational Research

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