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THE WHITBY

FIRST EDITION 2021

St Hilda’s College

The University of Melbourne First Edition 2021

St Hilda’s College acknowledges the Wurundjeri people, Traditional Custodians of the Kulin nation, the land on which our college lies upon today, and pays respects to their Elders past and present, and recognises the both academic and cultural impact that the Aboriginal people of Australia have on our studies.

Editor’s Note We often talk about celebrating people’s achievements and talents, whether it be cheering from the sidelines at a sporting event, applauding a musical performance, or going out for celebratory drinks after being elected to a new role. While all achievements are worthy of recognition, I believe that academic achievements are among those that are least celebrated, despite being some of the most significant and well-earned. This is why I am so thrilled to bring the first edition of The Whitby to life, with the aim of putting a spotlight on our talented, quiet achievers of St Hilda’s College. The idea to create an academic journal for the college was first suggested to me last year, after being elected as academic convenor. The process has been challenging yet rewarding, and it is wonderful to see the wide range of talent in works from both students and tutors from the college. Unfortunately we have not been able to showcase everyone’s submissions, but it has been lovely to see the willingness of so many students to share their passions and creativity. The Whitby was designed and edited by students, and all works are presented as they were submitted.

Amelia De Smet

Academic Convenor 2021

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Acknowledgments Editor in Chief Amelia De Smet Editors Zodie Bolic Isi Ogwu Imogen Senior Design Emma Kelly Cover Art Mali Gordon Academic Committee Members Isabelle Auld Zodie Bolic David Elijah Bess Hamshaw Thomas Langdon Dylan Lennon Trent Madden Dominika Michalek Sophie Pech Alex Rowe Imogen Senior Emily Wang

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Contributors Alexandra Ashburner-Hill Natalia Benetti Zodie Bolic Casey Casimaty Choi Hin Cheung jo Amelia De Smet Luke Foley Mali Gordon Alanah Hardy Emma Kelly Thomas Loughnan Ophelia Mathers Tom McNamara Sophie Michael Michael Nakai Imogen Nelson Isi Ogwu Dan Parker Lachlan Pedley Cécile Plaa Imogen Quilty Imogen Senior Theo Viney Guy Webster Ben Wrobel

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Contents Foreword Principal Brenda Holt Phallic Performances: Male Dominations of the International Order Imogen Senior Jessie Alexandra Ashburner The Origin of the Incel: A Product of Hegemonic Masculinity Isi Ogwu Let Them Eat Lotus Guy Webster The Limits of Mill’s Harm Principle: When the State is the Source of Harm Imogen Nelson Gum leaves: Art and the Botanical Amelia De Smet Neoliberal Trade Unions: A Case Study Tom McNamara A Necessary Vulnerability: The Power of the Nation Lachlan Pedley Exploring Art Cécile Plaa a teenage guide to godhood Isi Ogwu Consent in Relation to Sexual Offences: Submission to the NSW Law Reform Commission’s Consultation Paper 21 Imogen Senior Actions and Interaction Casey Casimaty Martian Climatic Evolution: Life before Earth Casey Casimaty Parkinson’s Disease and L-dopa Imogen Quilty Time Heals SM A Chance of Rain Anam Cara v.

1 3 6 7 11 13 16 17 19 23 25 29 34 35 37 39 41

The Association Between High Blood Pressure and Changes in Human Gut Microbial Metabolic Pathways Michael Nakai Botulinum Toxin A as an Adjunct to Retromuscular Repair of Large Ventral Hernias Luke Foley Maternal SMCHD1 Regulation of Hox Gene Expression and Patterning in the Mouse Embryo Natalia Benetti Roses: Withdrawing Anonymous Botanical Watercolour: Art and the Botanical Mali Gordon Critical Analysis of the “Culture Industry” Alanah Hardy Miss Americana: The Supposed ‘Inside Look’ Pales in its Transparency to Many of Swift’s Albums Zodie Bolic Ten Degrees Theo Viney Clickbait is captivating, catastrophic, and so much more Ophelia Mathers National Gallery of Victoria: Bauhaus Exhibition Concept Mali Gordon Victorian Rowhouse Redesign: Multigenerational Choi Hin Cheung jo Insiders and Outsiders: Evaluating Positionalities in Qualitative Research Lachlan Pedley Designing for Urban Animals Dan Parker A Trip in the Rain Ophelia Mathers Modular Four: Frame vs. Field Thomas Loughlan Appropriation Amelia De Smet Modular Typeface: ReMorse Type Emma Kelly References

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Foreword One of the best things that came out of 2020 was a restructure of the General Committee, led by then President and Vice-President, Lily Collins and Oscar Bird. The new restructure was terrific—Lily and Oscar had sought to bring a very outdated structure to better reflect the changing times. There was only one role on their new restructure that seemed to be missing to me. ‘What if you added an Academic Convener?’ I asked. As we discussed the roles on their spreadsheet, they acknowledged that academics had been such a given of what the college did that they had not thought about it as a student leadership role. But after discussion, they decided it was necessary. I was delighted that Amelia De Smet was appointed as the first St Hilda’s Academic Convener, and an academic committee was gathered around her to drive academic initiatives. 2021 started brilliantly. The ‘normal year’ that we all had longed for in 2020 was looking fantastic—until lockdown #4 in mid-Week 12 of our first semester. Amelia’s role as Academic Convener was then not just a bonus but necessary: all 222 students had to pivot to have all their exams online. Each student would need a tutorial room for their exclusive use during their exams. Amelia did all of that work and kept everyone going throughout the exam period. Semester 2 began in lockdown #5, then lockdown #6 followed our 10 days of freedom. Again, the students were online. The academic convener and her team have ably mentored, encouraged, ensured rooms and support for all our students during this very stressful time. On top of this work, they decided to add yet another wonderful gift to our college: what if they could produce an academic journal full of contributions from our students? The journal, named The Whitby, is a nod to our academic heritage. 1

Our college is named after Hild, the royal princess of Northumbria, and later the first abbess of Whitby Abbey, founded in 657. The abbey was a centre of learning. Our Fellows, St Hilda’s most esteemed alumni, lead an academic series for our top students called The Whitby Series. Therefore, The Whitby is an appropriate name for this academic journal of our students’ work. We are so very proud of all of our students, and this sample of their work demonstrates both the depth of academic strength and also our diversity. Congratulations to our inaugural Academic Convener and her excellent committee for this great initiative!

Brenda Holt Principal

Phallic Performances: Male Dominations of the International Order Imogen Senior This essay was written for Introduction to International Politics by Imogen Senior. It explores the gendered assumptions that underpin much of realism as a dominant paradigm in international relations theory. It compares how these masculine ideals manifest in the language around military defence, often comically sexual, and compares this to feminist understandings of power.

This essay will compare structural realist conceptions of global power with Enloe’s (2004a) feminist theory, arguing that Enloe provides a better understanding of power’s operation in global politics. The two theories have vastly differing definitions of relevant power in global politics, with realism focused on the military and state, and feminist theory seeing cultured intrastate hierarchies of domination as relevant to global power. Feminist IR applies a critical lens to realist thought to examine how it marginalises gender discourses and perpetuates a constructed centre, revealing the fragility of these processes and theory (Enloe, 2004a). Realism fails not just because it delegitimates femininity but because it is built on a centre of masculine domination, and constructs masculinity in turn. This essay will compare these theories conceptions of power through the lens of militarisation and war, which form the basis for realist thought and are critiqued by feminist theory for their production of masculine hegemony. Cohn’s (1987) examination of nuclear defence strategists provides a case study in how language and logic has legitimated a centre of masculine domination and marginalises feminist discourses of security and peace in militarisation. Structural realism is focused on global power through the lens of individual state survival in an anarchic system (Waltz, 2001). Rousseau theorises that while individuals are protected from anarchy by entering into the social contract and trading freedom for security, the international structure remains dangerously anarchical in the state of nature (Roosevelt, 1987).

Booth (2011) emphasises that paradoxically, anarchy is order, not chaos, in a system where states coexist. The system is characterised by a need to rely on oneself due to a pervasive fear of war. All states seek survival through sovereignty and are inherently rational and strategic in pursuing their own interests, unintentionally creating a balance of power to prevent hegemony (Waltz, 2001). Power refers solely to the material assets which allow coercion, with socio-economic circumstance only relevant when contributing to military potential (Mearsheimer, 2016). All gains are relative. Any difference in state identity or ideology is irrelevant when considering the distribution of power, since all states have the same interest of survival. Waltz (2001) emphasises that states should not seek to maximise their power beyond security as this will undermine it, only their security, since they will be punished for seeking hegemony. Mearsheimer (2016) is contrarily an offensive structural realist, believing that states must seek hegemony to minimise the uncertainty of the anarchic system. Feminists remain skeptical of realist claims of universal knowledge from which women have been excluded (Hooper, 1999). Pateman (1988) argues that Rousseau’s (Roosevelt, 1987) social contract was presupposed by women’s subordination. The notion of a state formed of consenting individuals seeking to escape anarchy excludes women, as male freedom was dependent on patriarchal right to dominate women in the private sphere, upholding the patriarchy of the public sphere.

Women’s natural domination becomes civil patriarchy. The central state system, and hence ideas of justice, human nature and civil freedom, was structured around the marginalisation of women (Tickner, 1997). Realism underestimates the numerous types of power that form state relationships and legitimacy, assuming that inequality and power is natural and stagnant, and is therefore are unable to predict change when groups gain power. Waltz (2001) and Mearsheimer (2016) claim to have a primary interest in power, reason and rationality, yet only focus on a central state material power. However, marginalisation of other perspectives does not occur organically but through the creation of a centre by groups powerful enough to construct norms of legitimacy and truth (Enloe, 2004a). One must look to the construction of gendered bodies in politics and voices on the margins in order to seek truth outside of hegemonic masculinities. By investigating how power perpetuates de-legitimation in the margins, one gains insight into the level and nature of state powers in the international system, showing how the state has reached its stability or fragility. There are many hierarchies within this power, emulating different political powers, which subvert and reinforce each other. Therefore, examining women’s experiences lends insight into global power. For example, hierarchies within the bedroom are relevant to foreign affairs, since confidence comes largely from sexual access (Enloe, 2004a). The power dynamics of personal and political relationships are in an interdependent relationship, meaning many forms of power are relevant to the global scene. Realist theory is not objective observation of reality because it cannot be applied independently of its own production (Shephard, 2010). Booth (2011), a realist, interestingly claims that traditional realist theories do not just explain, but actually make and construct, global politics. Enloe (2004a) attributes realists’ unwillingness to consider gender due to their fear that their own ‘gendered investments’ in rationality and masculinity will evaporate. While it is a common argument that international relations theory is predominantly masculine, Hooper (1999) argues that it actually disciplines and produces a centre of masculinity in return. Feminist theory cannot include women in realist analysis since realism is already informed by gender and enforces masculinity.

In this way, feminist argument pushes rather for a feminist consciousness and curiosity as to why some live on the margins, and how gender serves to exclude and dominate (Enloe, 2004b). We must look to how and why masculinity is privileged and centred, and how much this depends on controlling or coercing women. This is explicitly a constructionist approach, with masculinity seen as malleable and influencing the construction of certain truths and behaviours. Realism’s blindness to its own construction of gender reinforces the link between masculinity, objectivity and power. This essay will focus on the relationship between military and masculinity, since realism’s analysis of global coercive power relies largely on military capability, and feminist theory investigates the militarisation of masculinities. Where realism simply sees war as an issue of states, sovereignty and security (Waltz, 2001), feminist critical analyses understand that war is concerned with humanity’s relationships of domination (Tickner, 1997). Looking to the construction of gender allows us to understand the centred realist discourses of war which predispose us to war, with both femininity and masculinity complicit in war-making (Cockburn, 2010). Realists discourse legitimate wars as fought to protect the internal vulnerable from outside threats. In seeing gender as a relation, one can recognise these relationships where femininity presents as vulnerable and passive to complement protection narratives of militarised and honourable masculinity (Cockburn, 2010). The centring of war on ‘combatants’ marginalises the role women play in war as abducted wives and cooks and silences their ideas and needs in crisis de-escalation. The consequent equation of women with peace denies them power or voice in security. Realist discourse is readily undermined by states’ internal violence and the death of women as civilians and refugees (Wibben, 2011). Female suicide bombers and torturers also undermine women’s construction as maternal and peaceful (Sjoburg, 2007). Therefore, personal identity and the international are both complicit in war-making. War and masculinity are in a reciprocal relationship- war makes men and men make war (Hooper, 1999). Hence, feminist theory attempts to unlink security from military. As leadership, security and national identity are equated with the military, the naturalness and inevitability of masculine control of politics is legitimated.

Butler’s (1988) analysis of gender as performative through the repetition of unconscious acts and discourses speaks to the regulation of male soldiers’ bodies to perform and produce hegemonic masculinity according to a system of values, reinforcing power as masculine (Hooper, 1999). The military is tied to masculinity since weapons trade mirrors the judgement of masculine status amidst uncertainty. This understanding of global power fails to understand threats other than states or strengthen processes of peace. Feminists therefore challenge the state and military as a security framework since inequalities extend from the personal to global power. Feminist security studies see security as the reduction of all violence- structural, ecological and physical, which contributes to insecurity in the international realm. This essay will examine Cohn’s (1987) analysis of 1984 specialist nuclear defence intellectuals through Enloe’s feminist theory of global power. Cohn reveals the extent to which realist perceptions of war, military and rationality are connected to masculinity and heterosexuality. These perceptions and practices are constructed as the legitimate centre, and ideas of identity, humanity or feminist security perceptions are marginalised. These margins are maintained through the hegemony of militarised masculine realism and its reliance on its own logic and language to legitimate it. When critiqued for their lack of humanity, realists use gendered attributes to claim they are objective and rational, not emotional or passive. Within the language employed by realist nuclear weapons strategists, this discourse appears rational, despite its sexual imagery and euphemism. It precludes even the nature of ideas that will be discussed- a symptom of the underlying assumptions and contradicting logics of realism in excluding opponents. For example, the word ‘peace’ is not present in this vocabulary- to use it signals your naivety (Cohn, 1987, p.706). Realism concerns only material interests, and one simply cannot speak about humans in a language designed around weapons. However, changing the language does not change the ideology of masculine rationality validated only through its own assumptions. The entire realist world is abstract, where rational, emotionless actors compete on solely material interests using correct intelligence and mathematical calculations in isolation from their context. This discourse remains the only legitimate way to think about security despite its internal contradictions.

Through euphemistic and gendered language, defence intellectuals rationalise the use of weapons of mass destruction as safety mechanisms, authorising US realist nuclear strategy (Cohn, 1987). Cohn had previously assumed that the specialists had considered and discarded feminist theory. Yet sexual and phallic imagery behind the weapons and norms revealed that they had never heard feminist critiques, seeing disarmament or peace as emasculating, and using sexualised language such as ‘penetration’ and ‘orgasmic whump’ (Cohn, 1987, p.693). The lack of accountability and distance from moral reality is pervasive as realists use euphemism and humanising weapons in order to tame and legitimate their destruction- the description of ‘clean bombs’ and ‘Peacekeepers’ (Cohn, 1987, p.691) is annihilation with no emotion. The desire to ‘pat’ missiles reflects a broader view of ‘affectionate domination’ as one can forget their capacities (Cohn, 1987, p.696). There remains, therefore, a gap between the truth and the image, distorting our understanding of global power’s ability to destruct. In learning the language of these realist defence specialists, one rationalises war, becoming powerful and ridiculing passivity or victimhood. These images serve to display connections between masculine sexuality and nuclear weapons, minimising the horrors of their destruction and reinforcing heterosexual masculinity’s rationality and hold on power. This essay has compared structural realist conceptions of global power with Enloe’s (2004) feminist theory’s call for an investigation into marginalisation processes which construct a legitimated masculine centre. Realism is thus predicated upon masculine hegemony, legitimating discourses of war and militarisation processes, intrinsically tied to gender relations and performances. Cohn’s (1987) case study demonstrates how masculine, sexualised understandings of nuclear weapons have been centred in realist security studies, marginalising and silencing through language ideas of identity, femininity and peace. To understand global power, one must look to the margins to understand the processes which maintain nations’ legitimacy and reveal their fragility. Feminist theory, in its curiosity in investigating all understandings of coercion from the personal to the political, allows for a greater understanding of power dynamics on the international stage.

Jessie Alexandra Ashburner-Hill

I’m sitting in my bed painting my nails, she sits at my desk. Green is my favourite colour. We both wear it. Do you hear what I can’t say, or do you not feign this oblivion? I think about the first time we met, I think about dancing in the shadows, and it was like a scene from a movie, hungry and free. Her hair is in a braid. It could be so easy, for me, to spend hours trying to process these feelings, of how she doesn’t feel comfortable when I link our arms. For this moment I can pretend that we are in love. I feel hungry again. Hungry for the feeling of her hand in mine, for our lips to touch for the third time. You appear to me as a dream, but what am I to you? “You’re just my muse” and colours blur. My devil’s ivy lays next to her, so close to feeling her skin. I focus on all of the green in my room to distract myself; The labels on my apple cider (which she doesn’t like), my desk chair (which she sits on), Her green eyes, How they look at me, Always unfocused and a bit past me because she shouldn’t see me the same way. Shit. It always comes back to this, it comes back to her. While you exist in the plane of life, tangled and glossy, I remain in the shadows from the night we first touched. I could never be enough to hold you anyway. My walls dissolve in vapour, my mind is lost to green, and my hands always longing for a girl Who remains just out of reach. 6

The Origin of the Incel: A Product of Hegemonic Masculinity Isi Ogwu The following article contains discussion of violent misogyny, mass shooting and racism. Reader discretion is advised. The Origin of the Incel examines the basis of the ‘involuntary celibate’ community, using Connell’s theory of hegemonic masculinity as a theoretical framework. It posits that incels exemplify a modern crisis of masculinity, in which they are constructed and function in a subversive position outside the traditional masculine order. ‘Incel’ is a portmanteau of the term involuntary celibate, referring to young men, largely young and white who define themselves by their inability to procure a sexual partner, expressing entitlement conceptualising gendered actors and a ‘sexual marketplace; to explain their sex-deficit. Incels gather primarily in online ‘communities’ such as forum boards. Connell’s ground-breaking Masculinities (2005), defines hegemonic masculinity as the most desired, accepted and powerful practice of masculinity in a time and place that legitimises the patriarchy. It provides a framework to understand Incels’ construction and function. The central argument of this essay is that Incels are products of hegemonic masculinity and its heteropatriarchal dominance over society and other masculinities. It will firstly argue that the current hegemonic masculine ideal does not provide for the provision of disciplinary violence required to maintain the patriarchy, requiring Incels to fulfil this requirement from a subversive position outside the masculine order. Then, it will assert that hegemonic masculinity presents an unreachable standard that Incels are formed from a crisis of masculinity. Finally, it will present that as a result of hegemonic masculinities adversarial nature, it was inevitable that a reactionary movement such as Inceldom arise in response to any change in its dominant dynamic.

Incels take a subversive position within the masculine hierarchy, benefiting from the patriarchy while imagining themselves as subordinated by it. From this position, they perform the requisite violence that hegemonic masculinities cannot, demonstrating that they are a by product of hegemonic masculinities function. The modern gender order positions men above women hierarchically. Men gain social and material rewards from patriarchal dominance, which they maintain through violence. Men who enact this violence believe themselves authorised by patriarchal supremacy (Connell, 2005). However, the hegemonic ideal is not constituted by violence itself, but the threat, or capacity for it. Hegemonically suitable violence must be morally or ideologically justified, such as in the case of a soldier or a film representation of a superhero (Witt, 2020). The hegemonic ideal of the current historical period does not tolerate the implementation of disciplinary violence that empowered bodies utilise to preserve the patriarchal gender order. Hence, the transactional violence used to maintain patriarchy cannot be discharged by masculine hegemony. Connell’s Masculinities (2005) provides a threefold frame from which to conceptualise multiple masculinities. Hegemonic masculinity consists of the masculine presentation that is most desired and culturally powerful in a historical period, and to some degree dominates all other presentations.

Complicit masculinities reap the dividends of patriarchy, but as a result of compromises or limitations, do not occupy the hegemonic position – most masculinities fall here. Subordinated masculinities, such as homosexual masculinity, are symbolic archives for qualities or performances expelled from, or in opposition to hegemonic masculinity. Finally, marginalised masculinities are those lacking qualities that prevent them from conforming to hegemonic masculinity. These masculinities are subjugated by dominant masculinities – such as the institutional privilege afforded white over black masculinities by white supremacy. Incels, however, do not neatly occupy any of the aforementioned categories. Complicit and subordinate characterisations are readily applied to Incel communities as well as conceptions of a ‘geek masculinity’. Despite ‘geek masculinities’ rejection of caricatural hypermasculinity, they simultaneously reify elements of it. The perceived subordination in Incel communities is as much structured around conventional masculinity (Aunspach & Kelly, 2020). Incel’s inability to imitate hegemonic masculinity is a catalyst for masculinity crisis and extreme self victimisation, that transitions into resentment towards society and women (Jones, 2020). This self-victimisation compromises Incels’ willingness to wield or even acknowledge patriarchal dividends. Conversely, Incel claims to subordination are lacking the structural oppression or loss of power. Incels practise a subversive form of complicit masculinity in which, as members of the dominant group they receive structural benefits, but as a result of their oscillation between hegemonic and subordinate patterns of practice they do not fully previously defined categories of masculinity and are therefore positioned outside the predefined structure. The mass murderer Elliot Rodger provides a clear case study in Incel disciplinary violence. On the 23rd of May 2014, Rodger began a killing spree that killed 6 and wounded 14 targeting women of the Alpha Phi sorority and the general UCSB campus population, while doing so, he released a 100,000word autobiographical manifesto that proclaimed, “I am the true victim in all of this. I am the good guy.” (Rodger, 2014 p 137). Rodger was one of the first mass murderers directly connected to the Incel community, who now revere him as the ‘supreme gentleman’. Rodger affirmed Western hegemonic masculine ideals and emphasised his own virginity and physical weakness in comparison, attributing his position to women who denied him sexually.

This exemplifies the core ethos of Incel violence – targeted attacks with explicit ideological and political aims to subjugate women globally. Through violence, Incels endeavour to validate not only their own claims to masculinity but all men’s right to control women (Witt, 2020). In a revision of Masculinities, Connell and Messerschmidt (2005), acknowledge the increasing effect of young women’s identity and practice on that of younger men. Scholars argue that Incels, and by extension, their violence is not a product of hegemonic masculinity, but hegemonic femininity. Hegemonic femininity, unlike hegemonic masculinity, regulates power among women rather than exerting authoritative power. It is argued that Incels create and utilise gendered typological actors to illustrate or explain their sex deficit, such as the stereotypically feminine ‘Stacy’ and her lesser ‘Becky’. Each caricature is reduced to and mocked for its feminine presentations, as both fail to meet conceptions of hegemonic femininity (Menzie, 2020). However, both typologies failure lies in their failure to make themselves sexually available to Incels. The caricatures are defined by access and a patriarchal entitlement to women’s bodies. This is merely a further iteration of the disciplinary project intended to validate women’s subordination to men’s sexual desires and thus, their domination – demonstrating again, the origin of Incel behaviour in hegemonic masculinity. Incels experience masculinity crisis as they fall short of the unreachable standard presentable by hegemonic masculinity, they commit violence as they redirect their resentment towards women. Hegemonic masculinity is a pattern of practices that embody the most culturally honoured way to be a man in a particular historical period (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005). One critical aspect of this pattern is heterosexual demonstration, consisting of sexual discourses that flaunt and display sexual prowess amongst other men to indicate power, dominance and control (Segalewicz, 2020). Hegemonically masculine men are primarily concerned with the display of sexual partners as semiotic indications of wealth, known as ‘erotic capital’. In the case of Incels, this is understood through the construction of the gendered caricature known as ‘Chad’. This figure spawns much debate within Incel communities but is generally a stereotypical alpha male – Aryan-white, fit, ablebodied and 6 feet or taller. Socially, they are considered attractive, with many friends and confident.

Chads, while denigrated as brutish, aggressive and obnoxious are simultaneously held as a ‘higher’ person by Incels. In comparison, Incels consider themselves to possess genetically pre determined ‘Incel features’ that indicate low testosterone and make them sexually and socially inferior (Menzie, 2020). Incels’ adherence to these stereotypical ideals of masculinity positions them to feel cheated by any shift in socio-sexual dynamics. Further, Incels subscribe to a racialized standard of beauty that values whiteness above all other racial categories, but paradoxically reject the inherent ‘advantage’ it affords their mostly white communities in the socio-sexual marketplace. The racial dimension of white masculinity dictates that white men are sexually superior and thus in a position to define what ‘appropriate’ sexuality is. This is exemplified by the oft-debated acronym, JBW – just be white – which is considered merely an expression of jealously by Incels of Colour and an unfounded coping method. Also, from the manifesto of mass murdered Elliot Rodger, “How could an inferior, ugly black boy be able to get a white girl and not me?... I am descended from British aristocracy. He is descended from slaves,” (Rodger, 2014 p 84). The further a man’s performance of masculinity deviates from the ideal, such as Incels’ inability to achieve accrue erotic capital through flaunting of sexual performance, the less legitimate his claim to masculinity becomes (Witt, 2020). This creates a masculinity crisis within him, prompting feelings of resentment and anger against the social institutions that they reinforce, which he displaces onto women, who he considers to be most blameworthy (Jones, 2020). Incels consider women’s attraction to ‘Chad’s an evolutionary flaw and Feminism is blamed as a disruption of the ‘natural order’ that positions women as subordinate and eternally sexually available to them. Incels entire ideology is centred around these ideas, which produces their outspoken hatred of women, as a form of retaliation (Menzie, 2020). An alternate argument is that Incels are not a product of hegemonic masculinity, but compulsory sexuality. This argues that the portrayal of sex as the innermost expression of personhood and personal fulfilment and a biological imperative creates a sexu society and a culture of compulsory sexuality that is advanced by the hegemonic masculine ideal which positions erotic capital as necessary and inherent to masculinity. Incels in this case are products of the pressure to structure one’s identity around sex (Aunspach & Kelly, 2020).

A clear flaw in this argument is the subordination of gay male sexuality in Incel spaces, they are unable to be considered true Incels within the communities strongly policed borders (Segalewicz, 2020). Connell (2005) conceptualised homosexuality as a repository for anything symbolically expelled from hegemonic masculinity for proximity to femininity. This demonstrates a commitment to heterosexuality, rather than sexual practice of any kind. Hegemonic masculinity requires a demonstration of appropriate sexuality which must be white and heterosexual. Incels subscription to this model of sexual practice and rejection of any practice that deviates from it demonstrates their movements direct origin in hegemonic masculinity rather than compulsory sexuality. The birth of the Incel movement is an inevitable product of the adversarial nature of hegemonic masculinity. All men in some way benefit from patriarchy, however, consideration of class and racial dimensions elucidate the degrees to which this is true (Demetriou, 2001). However, the overarching construction of the gender order places men above women, and, as beneficiaries, men will always be concerned with the defence of this order (Connell, 2005). As a result, the women’s equality movement’s goals of female advancement place them in fundamental tension with the hegemonic masculine order (Jones, 2020). The ‘manosphere’ refers to an online community of conservativeleaning men united primarily by “antagonism towards women, opposition to feminism and… hyperbolic misogynistic discourse” (Segalewicz, 2020 p 11). Within this umbrella falls Incels, Men’s Rights Activists (MRAs) and Pick Up Artists (PUAs) (Segalewicz, 2020). Incels are just one example of the reactionary movements that have appeared in opposition to the perceived corruption of modern society by political correctness and progressive politics such as feminism. Their extoll of a return to ‘traditional’ gender roles, ‘old days’ conservatism, white supremacist ideology and draconian policy to eliminate women’s sexual agency demonstrate the reactionary character of their movement. Incel’s association and overlapping ideology with fascist far-right movements establish a similar trend. Incel discourse valorises white identity, self-mastery and has a distinct character of victimisation by a phenomenon they view as transgressing the natural orders of society.

The main issue with this is the heavily policed community borders mirror fascist homosocial autarky, and their typology and hierarchisation of society take a eugenic quality, particularly evident in the manifesto of Elliot Rodger, that references “impurity” and “degeneracy” (Rodger, 2014 p 136). Incel violence, such as that of Rodger promises to restore society, with white men – Incels – in power (Aunspach & Kelly, 2020). It could be argued that Incels are not a ‘product’ of hegemonic masculinity, as in a disciplinary offshoot off hegemonic practice, but its new historical iteration. Hegemonic masculinity is a changeable historical construction that can give way to new formations to preserve its ascendancy (Connell, 2005). Previously, the militaristic, individualist and violent masculinity of the old-world ‘gentry’ gave way to a more calculated, rational and regulated form, which is now being challenged by feminist and other progressive movements (Demetriou, 2001). ea lies in the incongruence with the current masculine hegemony concerning force. The violence presented by Incels is not considered legitimate by society. This is most evident in the policy attempts to classify Incel violence as terrorism. Scholarship and policy relate Incels to the subordinated masculinity of Jihadists – “Incel terrorists have also displayed a willingness to adopt Islamic State tactics… perhaps influenced by Jihadist successes” (Hoffman, Shapiro & Ware, 2020). The ready application of the racialized label demonstratesthe lack of structural power afforded them. Incels reactionary form of masculinity does not achieve the persuasiveness necessary to establish a new masculine hegemony, though it performs a specific disciplinary function. Therefore, it is a product of hegemonic masculinity – not as a new iteration, but an extension. Hegemonic masculinity produces Incels, and by extension their violence, through three modes. Firstly, as a means to perform disciplinary violence that hegemonic masculinities reject. Secondly, by presenting an impossible standard of masculinity that necessarily produces a resentful population of masculinities in crisis. Finally, by priming an inevitable reactionary movement through an inherent adversarial character. These modes demonstrate the development and creation of the Incel movement as direct products of hegemonic masculinity.

Let Them Eat Lotus Guy Webster Guy Webster is Resident Arts Tutor at St Hilda’s College. An academic and writer living on unceded Wurundjeri land, his work has been published by Overland, Kill Your Darlings, Australian Book Review and The Conversation. His play, Driftwood, has been selected as part of Theatre Work’s Queer Playwriting Showcase to be performed in January next year, and then as part of the Midsummer Festival 2022. He currently plays Plath in Eleven O’Clock theatre’s production of Breaths In Between, and The Dentist for Western Art’s production of Little Shop of Horrors. He is currently finishing his doctorate at The University of Melbourne. He tweets as @guytothewebster. ‘Let them eat lotus’ was originally published in Overland, and is reprinted here with permission. The original can be viewed at this link: https://overland.org.au/2021/09/let-them-eat-lotus/ The mid-season finale of HBO’s recent revival of Gossip Girl (2021) ends with a love triangle unironically staged in the middle of a protest for a housing crisis. Obie (Eli Brown) is a wealthy teenager with a penthouse apartment and some mother issues. Rebuked by his girlfriend and exgirlfriend for not standing up for himself in front of his family – the usual suspects: an aloof CEOmother and Rupert Murdoch-stand in grandfather – he makes the choice to attend a protest against them. Obie’s character-defining decision to stand up against a toxic family-run business conglomerate is a reaction to feeling ashamed of his past behaviour. Shame is the experience of being ‘witnessed in one’s failure’, Sara Ahmed writes in her 2004 essay ‘Shame Before Others’. As a result, it offers the shamed individual the chance to ‘reintegrate … in their moment of failure to live up to a social ideal.’ Obie is given just such an opportunity; to absolve himself of personal shame and so re-join the social group he values. Yet his actions – which are, in effect, an attempt to shame his family – elide his own, potentially shameful, complicity in benefiting from their injustices. When he kisses his ex-girlfriend in a back alley hidden from the police who are attacking protesters (I promise I’m not making this up), one wonders if he’ll return to the penthouse apartment they bought for him. It is telling that a revival of Gossip Girl stages an individual experience of shame-induced self-development against the backdrop of a public shaming

(‘You People Are Evil’, one protest sign reads). Shame has a powerful capacity to promote self-development, the show seems to say. But, as Sara Ahmed asks, ‘What does it mean to claim identity through shame?’ This question is at the heart of HBO’s continuing investment in shows like Gossip Girl – what Marina Fang describes as ‘Shows About Rich White People Problems’. Mike White’s recent series, The White Lotus is the latest addition to this sub-genre that treats shame as one such problem. Similar to Big Little Lies (2017), Succession (2018 -), The Undoing (2020), and Gossip Girl, The White Lotus (2021) follows a group of wealthy, mostly white, people, this time as they holiday at the luxurious five-star hotel, The White Lotus. Its characters, writer Mike White tells us in a recent interview with The New York Times, ‘live in a bubble of money’. The show emphasises the fragility implied by this image – a threat that the ‘bubble’ might burst at any moment that the show’s characters feel as shame. ‘They’re so defensive’, White continues in his interview, ‘the culture has them on their heels.’ ‘People have been coming for me my whole life’, newlywed Shane (Jake Lacy) complains in Episode 3 after a long day by the hotel pool. ‘I’m just playing the hand I was delt’, he continues. ‘Like yeh, it’s a great hand, but that’s not my fault’. Shane, a white man from a wealthy family, feels that he is being shamed for his privilege, and seeks to absolve himself of it.

His defensiveness is shared by many of the guests, all of whom attempt to absolve themselves from a perception that their wealth is shameful. These attempts are central to the way Mike White gets his characters to perform their entitlement.

’—is used to galvanise opposition against it. Ultimately, this diverts the conversation away from the issue of white supremacy to an overstated sense of individual shame that enables the desire, on the part of the shamed, to do nothing.

When Olivia Mossbacher (Sydney Sweeney), a college student on holiday with her family, declares that the entertainment at the previous night’s three-course dinner—a tokenistic performance presented as traditionally Hawaiian—was ‘disturbing’, her father (Steve Zahn), responds with exaggerated defensiveness. ‘How are we going to make it right?’ he asks between mouthfuls of a seasonal fruit bowl. ‘Should we give away all our money? … Maybe we should just feel shitty about ourselves all the time, for the crimes of the past.’

The dedication to alleviating these feelings instead of reflecting on the reasons for them is key to the satire of The White Lotus. The problem, for Mark Mossbacher, is not the fetishisation of Hawaii’s indigenous culture for the benefit of tourists, but rather the shame he feels in being asked to acknowledge it. By overstating his personal culpability through comedic hyperbole, he avoids considering the role he plays in perpetuating inequality, and so removes the question of taking action in response to it. These are the ‘lotus-eaters’— privileged people who feast on shame with the kind of spectacle that justifies their apathy and inaction.

It is striking, and perhaps all-too familiar, to note the way Zahn’s character perceives a personal attack in a critique which is only obliquely about him. How can he be held personally responsible for the inequality faced by Hawaii’s entire indigenous population? The question is too vast, and the answer is too easy—he can’t. It is the straw man argument of the privileged, wheeled out in response to the perception that one is being shamed in order to disguise the very real ways in which one is actually guilty. In a recent interview for La Repubblica, Hilary Mantel revisited the now infamous publication of ‘A Letter on Justice and Public Debate’ in Harpers last year. Signed by hundreds of authors and public figures, the letter criticised ‘an intolerance of opposing views’ and ‘vogue for public shaming’ in contemporary online discourse. For Mantel, it offered a response to the ‘the self-righteous, stifling, fear-ridden climate of cancel culture.’ The irony of the letter, quickly pointed out on social media, was that those who had signed it were unlikely to find their influence compromised by instances of public shaming and online ostracism. In fact, the letter was testament to the narrative of ‘being shamed’ that those with power often draw upon, and monetise, when they need to. It overstates shame to embolden, and even give a moral dimension to, its critique. Brooke Obie’s review of The White Lotus for Refinery29 sees a similarity between this misguided emphasis on shame and the backlash against Critical Race Theory being ‘taught in schools’. The possibility of being shamed—‘of making white children feel bad about the legacy of white supremacy

Viewers are asked to participate in this process. These characters should be ashamed, we are encouraged to think. Or rather, they should be shamed. The show’s satire offers a complementary catharsis to this impulse, and its mysterious death— of which we are made aware at the beginning of the first episode—toys with this catharsis, offering the promise of a gruesome form of restorative justice. The possibility that shame might translate into real consequences for at least one of the guests becomes increasingly attractive as the series progresses. In the final twist, however, this promised resolution is denied. Speaking to Vulture’s Kathryn Van Arendonk, Mike White responded to the criticism of the ending, as well as the fact that the show was written by a single white man, by saying: ‘I think the gatekeepers need to be shamed into allowing more people to have access to the resources to tell the stories they want to tell.’ Shame is a practice available to us, he implies, to make the kinds of changes that the characters in his show reveal we need. But shame is not guilt, no matter how intertwined they become in White’s treatment. Shame does not, as DL Nathanson writes, necessitate action, or actionable consequence. We can absolve ourselves of shame. In The White Lotus, this pursuit of absolution becomes a form of self-actualisation. Shame affirms these characters—both in how they respond to it, and how they attempt to elicit it in others. But this is an ability reserved to them precisely because of their circumstances. Privilege, we learn by the show’s end, offers a limitless supply of tools through which to both invoke shame and resolve it.

The Limits of Mill’s Harm Principle: When the State is the Source of Harm Imogen Nelson This work was produced by Imogen Nelson for her first year subject ‘Law in Society’. It looks at the effects of state violence and control of people of colour through over-incarceration.

Mill’s harm principle is limited when the state itself is responsible for causing harm to its people. The prison system is a racialized institution designed to target marginalised people (Schenwar & Law 2020, 6). The overincarceration of minorities, particularly people of colour, has caused harm to many communities as a result of growing state control and demonstrates that liberalism only applies to a select group of people. For the purpose of this essay, the term Bla(c)k will be used to as an inclusive term to represent people of colour that identify as both Black and Blak. In this essay I will look at the limitations of Mill’s harm principle when applying Seth’s theory of plurality and the harm that occurs to communities when they fall outside the liberal boundaries of accepted multiculturalism (Seth 2001, 68). Finally, I will look at the effects of current prison reform policies to demonstrate that the state remains a source of harm to communities even after they have left the prison system, illustrating the limitations of Mill’s harm principle as the state constitutes the main cause of harm for particular communities. Mill’s harm principle states that “the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any members of a civilised community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others” (Mill 1962, 165). Therefore, it can be said that the state has no place getting involved in the private lives of its people unless they are causing harm to others. This expresses the core liberal value of freedom and the desire for little state intervention (Holtug 2002, 357).

When looking at the overincarceration of minority groups in the US and Australia, the state is causing harm to many communities, contrary to Mill’s harm principle which states that the state should be preventing harm rather using its power to inflict it. The state using power against its people has a long historical background in many institutions. As sociologist Zygmunt Baumann wrote, “the civilising process is not about the uprooting, but about the redistribution of violence” (Baumann 1996, 141). Furthermore, the recent growth of prisons globally and continuous racial tensions has meant that “mass incarceration has been the most thoroughly implemented governmental social program of our time” (Davis 2003, 11). These racial tensions have grown as the boundaries created when looking at multiculturalism in liberal societies have continues, as seen by Sanjay Seth’s theory of plurality and differences. Seth’s theory of plurality and differences provides reasoning for why certain groups of people are subject to harm by the state. Within a liberal state, multiculturalism is accepted within the boundaries set by that state (Seth 2001, 68) and diversity is only valued when differences fall within a certain limit of what is seen as acceptable (Seth 2001, 74). Boundaries are created within liberal society that allow for certain differences, however, differences outside of those boundaries becomes pluralities and are not commonly accepted (Seth 2001, 76). The boundaries in the US and Australia are defined by white, settler-colonial values, often following Judeo-Christian thought.

Western liberal democracy is a system that claims to give opportunity to everyone but treats people differently based on their cultural practices due to a strong underlying racial bias. This concept of the boundaries creates a group known as the “other” that can be excluded from society or be victims of harm caused by the state. The state has taken advantage of these marginalised groups as they often represent minorities in liberal societies and can therefore be targets for the state to continue the prison industrial complex, which will be discussed further when looking at the overincarceration of Bla(c)k citizens below. The “other”, often people of colour, are seen as surplus and the prison provides an abstract site, for these people to be removed from society and method of dealing with socio-economic issues (WilsonGilmore 1998, 174; Davis 2003, 16). Seth’s theory of plurality and differences provides an explanation as to why people of colour are subjected to harm by the state in the form of over-incarceration. Violence and over-incarceration of people of colour is a tool of social control and fundamental to the formation and persisting hegemonic values of the modern neoliberal capitalist state (Tauri 2014, 29). The prison industrial complex is a way of maintaining inequalities in society, whether it be through race or socio-economic status (Davis 2000, 12). It is a method that uses surveillance, overpolicing and imprisonment as a way of managing society and benefits the state and private companies that own the prisons through the high levels of revenue that incarceration provides. Systemic racism has been deeply involved in the creation of modern state institutions in the US (Davis 2003, 23). After the abolition of slavery in 1865, laws were put in place to limit the freedoms of African Americans as they became free citizens, resulting in many arrests for minor offences (Schenwar & Law 2020, 13). In the US today, there are two million incarcerated people, the majority being from poor Black or brown communities (Kushner, 2019). The prison system in the US has grown so rapidly that people of colour or of Native American descent are more likely to go to prison than to gain a tertiary education (Davis 2003, 10). This illustrates the harm being caused to these communities, and they ways in which inequalities are being perpetuated by the actions of the state. The prison system has become a punishment unrelated to crime, but instead for marginalisation and a method for the state to cause harm to people of colour.

Indigenous communities are particularly affected by high rates of incarceration as a result of colonialism and the threat Indigenous culture poses to the boundaries set in society. Although liberalism values freedom, these freedoms have to fit a particular mould and those that hold these different beliefs are targeted. Australia was founded on the oppression and genocide of Indigenous people, with an aim to eliminate Indigenous culture. Legislation passed in the 19th and 20th centuries criminalised the practice of Indigenous culture, demonstrating the longstanding positioning of Indigenous people as the “other” in Australia following colonisation (Tauri 2014, 22). Indigenous culture falls outside of the multicultural boundaries of Australia, which values an inherent whiteness that now defines the settler colonial criminal justice system (Seth 2001, 68). There is a deliberate state targeting of Aboriginal communities in Australia, with police granted unnecessary stop-and-search powers and strategic employment of strict, militaristic-style policing at Indigenous protests (Cunneen 2006, 335). The 1991 Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody found that Indigenous overincarceration is directly linked to socio-economic factors (Cunneen 2006, 334). Looking back to the maintenance of inequalities as a method of repression, Indigenous people are also targeted due to their socio-economic status, acting as both a cause and an effect of Indigenous over-representation in prison. This falls under the prison industrial complex, as Indigenous inequalities are intentionally perpetuated by the state, causing harm to their communities and demonstrating the limits of Mill’s harm principle. An alternative to the carceral state and the state’s response to over-incarceration has been the introduction of reform policies. However, reform has been shown to cause further harm to individuals and communities as diverting people out of the prison system to less expensive alternatives increases the influence of the carceral state and overall state influence into our everyday lives (Schenwar & Law 2020, 11). The modern prison system emerged as a reform to the previous historical prison system known for harsh punishment and frequent use of the death penalty (Schenwar & Law 2020, 12).

This new system was only for people recognised as full citizens as a system gradually focussing less on punishment and more on rehabilitation (Davis 1988, 361). Conversations about reform focus on decreasing prison populations due to the financial pressure but these people are kept under state control as they enter rehabilitation centres or serve their sentences under house arrest, often causing more harm to the individual (Schenwar & Law 2020, 17). The influence and racial bias of the state caused by plurality still has great control over individuals after they leave the prison system, with five out of six people rearrested within nine years of leaving the prison system, demonstrating the power the state has over communities and its ability to cause harm (Schenwar & Law 2020, 3). Prisons are unable to be reformed in a way that does not cause harm, instead we need to promote prison abolition and focus on the crimes of society rather than the common liberal notion of individual responsibility. By reforming the state’s social policies surrounding poverty, health care and education, inequalities within society and therefore high rates of incarceration can be lowered, reducing the harm the state inflicts on individuals that fall outside the state’s confines of acceptable difference and multiculturalism. Mill’s harm principle is limited when looking at the carceral state and overrepresentation of minorities in the prison system, as the state is responsible for causing harm rather than using its power to prevent it as the principle suggests. Within a western liberal democracy, there are boundaries set within society that allow for differences within a certain range but falling outside of this range results in pluralities that are rejected and the marginalisation of certain groups. The boundaries in the US and Australia are built on white settler-colonial values and therefore discrimination of people of colour, resulting in overrepresentation in the prison system. The prison industrial complex is a way to maintain inequalities within society, such as socio-economic status and the treatment of people of colour, particularly Indigenous Australians. Therefore, it is evident that Mill’s harm principle is limited due to the state’s capacity to inflict harm based on racial bias and plurality, and the negative long-term impacts that the prison system has on communities and individuals as a result.

Gum Leaves Art and the Botanical Amelia De Smet

Graphite on watercolour paper 12 x 16” This set of drawings is a ‘working with scale’ project for Art and the Botanical.

Neoliberal Trade Unions: A Case Study Tom McNamara ‘This is what a neoliberal trade union looks like’ was originally published by ‘Africa is a Country’, and is reprinted with permission. The original article can be accessed here: https://africasacountry.com/2019/01/ the-growth-and-stability-of-business-unionism-in-zambia. It was published by Tom McNamara and James Musonda while they were working for the Université of Liége. They spent a year living with mining trade unionists in Zambia and learnt how they were responding to worsening wages and conditions. The article argues that the unions were made more powerful by running stores, but in doing so an exploitative political economy was naturalised. The work was controversial at the time, prompting response from the Deputy General Secretary of the Mineworkers Union of Zambia, which can be found here: http://www. workinmining.ulg.ac.be/blog/mineworkers-union-of-zambias-general-secretary-responds-to-this-is-what-aneoliberal-union-looks-like. July 2018, the Mineworkers Union of Zambia (MUZ), the largest and oldest of Zambia’s mining unions, held its 14th quadrennial conference and elections. Union elections in Zambia are typified by allegations of corruption, but not these. After serving two terms as the union’s General Secretary, Joseph Chewe, was elected unopposed as union President. His long-term Deputy, George Mumba, became General Secretary and Chishimba Nkole, former MUZ president remained as Zambia Congress of Trade Unions (ZCTU) president. The other two mineworker unions, the National Union of Mine and Allied Workers (NUMAW) and the United Mineworkers Union of Zambia (UMUZ) also held national elections in 2016 and 2017, and re-elected their respective leaderships. After almost a generation of instability, the last five years have arguably been a period of success for these mineworker unions. Stable leadership has coincided with a reduction in the substantial debts of each union, with MUZ going from near receivership to annual profitability in ten years. More importantly, after the number of unionized miners fell to below 20,000 in the early and mid-2000s (from a peak of 65,000 before privatization), it has reached about 30,000 across the mining unions. Much of this growth in membership has come from unionizing sub-contracted miners, whose contract precariousness had previously been seen as a potential deathblow to a union movement structured around well-paid permanent workers.

However, the stabilization of Zambia’s mining unions has been intimately tied to an increasing focus on profit-generating businesses, at the expense of collective action. Union businesses are located on company property and require licensing from the government. Each union operates stores at the worksite and in town, selling essential commodities on credit to their members at a high markup. As payments are deducted from payroll (to reduce defaults) the unions need their employers’ cooperation for this system to continue. MUZ also owns a busing company that is contracted by the mines to transport workers (MUZ members) to the worksite and a mealie mill plant that has been made viable through subsidized maize and soft loans from Zambia’s government. Across each of the unions, these businesses are providing funds that compensate for the decreased dues that lower salaried workers are contributing, and the increased administrative costs of unionizing small groups of subcontractors. Dependence on these new sources of income has reduced militancy and is a liability during daily interactions with the companies. Many underground miners who are members of the union are beginning to question the relevance of the union to workers’ rights. As one machine operator asked “what interests do the unions in the mining sector serve? It appears to me that they are more interested in business ventures than workers’ concerns.”

Thus, members move from one union to the next hoping that the other union might serve them better only to discover that all unions offer the same kinds of services. Other members were concerned about the close business relations that unions have with banks and the mining companies. For every loan that is given to a mine worker by the bank, the union is given a commission. Yet this cost is passed on to the worker/member who suffers high interest charges and long repayment periods. At one of the mining companies, about 78 percent of general payroll employees had loans with commercial banks. In a context where retrenchments are frequent, and banks recover their loans from retrenchment packages, many retrenched miners have lost their entire packages. According to the Ex-Miners Association of Zambia EMAZ), an association that provides financial support for and lobbies government on behalf of retrenched miners, in 2015 alone, over 85 percent of the retrenched workers lost their packages through loan recovery from banks. The unions’ changing emphasis and structure has been a relatively deliberate response to Zambian neoliberalism, aimed at mitigating, rather than challenging structural change. The presidents of the three mineworker unions mentioned earlier see their increased reliance on business as necessitated by mechanization, casualization, and feckless international investors. Mechanization is particularly troubling. Senior unionists see a time when there are a few thousand long-term jobs in the mining sector and are attempting to prepare the union for that. This creates many questions about what the mining unions’ purpose will be if there is no mining workforce.

When civil society organizations are protesting against issues such as abuse of government funds or corruption, the union encourages its members not to be involved in politics. In an interview with some union leaders, most argued that “it is impossible to work with civil society organizations because they are very political.” This view clearly demonstrated that the unions in Zambia still see engaging in political and governance issues to be beyond the scope of the unions. The combination of a mechanizing workforce and wealthier apolitical unions creates new questions for those who hope social alliances with social movements will re-empower unions in southern Africa. It represents a near direct contrast to Pnina Werbner’s description of Botswanan unions engaging in widespread mobilization of civil society associations that supersedes the notion of class identity. There are valid questions as to how Zambia unions can be involved in such civil action, not only due to their current entanglements with the government and companies, but also because class identity is so key to Zambian miners’ lived experiences. Alternatively, the unions’ growing financial clout has the potential to enable greater independence. Many more militant MUZ branch executives see MUZ’s mealie mill sales as potentially supporting a strike fund, subsidizing the costs of unionizing sub-contracted workers or even offering retirement packages (which they increasingly believe neither the government nor companies can be trusted to provide). It remains to be seen whether these (highly leveraged) companies will be a success and whether this success will enhance or damage Zambia’s mining unions’ potential to combat injustices in their sector or society.

Recent debates on trade union militancy advocate for social movement unionism—the idea that trade unions need to work closely with other like-minded civil society organizations, combining workplace issues with broader political issues in order to be relevant. The major problem, however, has been that unions in the mining sector find it appropriate to align with the ruling political party than with other civil society organizations. Each of the three unions holds an official policy of “working with the government of the day.” At both MUZ and NUMAWU’s quadrennial elections, members of government were invited, who warned miners against militancy that targeted either the companies or government.

A Necessary Vulnerability: The Power of the Nation Lachlan Pedley This is an essay written by Lachlan Pedley for the subject ‘Power’. It discusses the ideological vulnerabilities of nations, made inherent by their discursive constructions.

The power of the nation is a necessarily vulnerable concept. This essay will justify this premise through engagement with a variety of ideas pertaining to the nation, its imagined composition as well as its dependence on nationalist sentiment. Initially, the difficulty with which to define the nation will be explored. The desired outcome of this is to convey the idea of the nation as a social or mental construct (Ting, 2008; James, 1996; Anderson, 1991), thus leaving the nation in a position of susceptibility and weakness due to its intangibility. Following on from this, due to the theoretical nature of nations, a great reliance is placed on a mass, social identification of nationality. National identity and nationalism, it can therefore be argued, has a reinforcing or constitutive effect on nations (Gellner, 1983; Harris, 2009; Calhoun, 1997). Herein lies another prominent vulnerability of the nation. Nationalism involves an association of culturally and ethnically diverse people. As such, it is widely considered a dangerous concept (Billig, 1995; Cederman, 2019; Harris, 2016), particularly when considering ethnic ties and the potential for cultural exclusion. Finally, a topical case study of Donald Trump’s modern America will be drawn on to emphasise a nation’s vulnerability as a result of the presence of an exclusionary nationalism. Through discussion of these main ideas, the conclusion will be drawn, that the power of nations is necessarily vulnerable. Addressing the vague and intangible definition of the nation as the point of departure, would be a beneficial introduction to understanding the nation’s vulnerability.

In the past, academic engagement with the subject of the nation has often been one of fruitlessness and difficulty. Early scholar on nationalism, Hugh Seton-Watson conveys this sentiment, stating, “I am driven to the conclusion that no ‘scientific definition’ of a nation can be devised” (1977, p. 4). Over time, explanations of the nation have since evolved, but not without a degree of ambiguity. A dominant thesis on the topic is that of Anderson (1991) who presents the concept of the ‘imagined community’. As Anderson explains, “members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion” (1991, p. 7). Extrapolating this idea, nations can be considered as nothing more than an inter-personal belief in association or as James articulates it, the nation represents a “social relation” (1996, p. 2). As a result, it is possible to infer a lack of physical tangibility to the nation. Consequently, national membership requires a population, individual or group to imagine as such. This draws connections to Ting’s analysis of the nation as a “mental construct” that exists “essentially in the symbolic realm” (2008, p. 461). The nation concept, therefore, is instilled and largely reliant upon Billig’s (1995) thesis of ‘banal nationalism’. This idea portrays the imagined community as dependant on the nation-state’s ability to internalise national identity within its citizens. As Billig describes, the nation requires nationalism to be an “inner psychological state” (1995, p. 69), a difficult thing to achieve, let alone maintain over an indefinite period of time.

Herein lies the nation concept’s susceptibility or weakness; the dependence on a continued, persistent and widespread social belief of its existence and right to exist. Along similar lines to the previous argument, nations present a vulnerability in their dependence on nationalist sentiment itself. Calhoun succinctly introduces this idea, stating, “nations exist only within the context of nationalism” (1997, p. 99). This thesis goes far beyond conveying a label of vulnerability to the construct of nations, but rather, an outright reliance on a widespread belief in nationalism. Gellner presents a similar point, suggesting that “nationalism engenders nations” (1983, p. 54). A converse relationship is conveyed here, depicting nations to be resulting from nationalism (Gellner, 1983), but also dependent on it for the nation’s continuity (Calhoun, 1997). No matter the perspective taken on the link between nations and nationalism, it may be accepted that their relationship is one of mutual reinforcement (Harris, 2009). The notion of nationalism, despite a negative contemporary portrayal, has the potential to not only support the construct of the nation, but also benefit it greatly. This notion is portrayed by Fukuyama (2018), who believes an inclusive sense of national identity, one that promotes diversity and democracy, remains a pivotal aspect of a successful modern nation. The benefits of an inclusive national identity are far reaching. As Fukuyama suggests, national identity is integral to an upkeep in the “quality of government” and “economic development” as well as the promotion of a “wide radius of trust” among the population (2018, p. 10). Therefore, in its most positive form, nationalism has the capacity to act as a social harmoniser, that may help to drive the nation forward. Overall, it may be concluded that the role of nationalism is pivotal to the construction of nations and, in some cases, has the potential to yield benefits. Yet, nationalism is not always characterised as a positive ideological force, and as such, presents the potential to undermine the power of nations. Nationalism, much like nations, does not adhere to a single, objective definition. Rather, nationalism is dynamic and situational as it concerns, or seeks to concern, a whole population; their heritage, cultural values and opinions. Duara summarises this by stating, “nationalism is rarely the nationalism of nations, but rather represents the site where different views of the nation contest and negotiate” (1996, p. 152).

Here, the wide array of opinion that exists in any given cross-sectional analysis of a nation is illustrated. Within a nation, particularly contemporary, Western liberal democracies, a variety of values exist throughout a nation’s population, namely involving factors of language, religion, culture, regionality and many other basic values (Smooha, 2018, p. 216). Diversity presents a challenge to inclusive nationalist sentiment (Papademetiou, 2012), as Ting references, nation-states must be “careful to avoid privileging the dominant narrative of the nation as representative of the perspective of the whole population” (2008, p. 460). The influence of ethnic diversity over nationalism is introduced here. The result of such influence often precipitates the formation of an ethnic nationalism. This concept represents an assertion of national identity that is narrow, intolerant, deeply illiberal and pertains “inherent tendencies toward exclusion of non-co-ethnics” (Harris, 2016, p. 243; Fukuyama, 2018). On the flip side of the nationalist coin lies civic nationalism, the open and voluntaristic form, characterised by inclusion of diversity on the basis of citizenship alone (Harris, 2016; Fukuyama, 2018). As such, nationalism is a dynamic theory, that comprises extremely polarising perspectives. Harris reinforces this statement, suggesting “all nationalisms are civic and ethnic to a lesser or greater degree at different times” (2016, p. 244). Consequently, an element of unpredictability shrouds the movement, and as such, establishes a vulnerability that can be seen to translate to the concept of the nation and its power when one subscribes to the thesis that “nationalism engenders nations” (Gellner, 1983, p. 54). Overall, nations are inherently vulnerable due to their strong dependence on nationalism, a concept that contains an all to great propensity for exclusion. In correlation to the previous point and constituting the final argument concerning the vulnerability of the nation, the concept of nationalism, particularly with its potential to form ethnic ties, is in and of itself, a contradiction. Nationalism, as touched on previously, involves the association of a population that is inherently diverse, an oxymoronic concept. As a basis from which to establish this point, a definition of national identity is required. Utilising Smith’s “fundamental features of national identity” (1991, p. 14), several factors are identified as crucial to a national identity. Namely, “an historic territory or homeland”, “common myths and historical memories” and finally, “a common, mass public culture” (Smith, 1991, p. 14).

These criteria are noticeably centred around a theme of commonality, hoping to socially unify a population under a nationalist movement. Yet, as explored previously, due to the innate social, cultural and linguistic differences (to name a few) present in a population, nationalist sentiment faces many challenges in terms of diversity or cultural fragmentation. Herein lies the inherent contradiction of nationalism, its attempt to unify the divided. Ting supports this idea, suggesting, with reference to Smith’s “features of national identity” (1991, p. 14), “the ‘structural’ aspects of national identity… no doubt contribute to the shaping of the collective psyche of the population, albeit unevenly and appreciated differently” (2008, p. 460). James similarly reinforces the thesis of nationalism and the nation as “beset by contradictions” and continues by suggesting the nation is “open to self-conscious cultural management” (1996, p. 2). As a result, the conclusion can be made that nationalism is a flawed ideal. Due to its contradictions and propensity for exclusion, many scholars regard it to be a dangerous ideal (Billig 1995; Cederman 2019; Harris 2016). In concordance, Smith concludes that “nationalism… inevitably pits culture-communities against each other” which consequently “can only drag humanity into a political Charybdis” (1991, p. 18). The metaphorical ‘Charybdis” referenced here is representative of an eventual finality to the concept of nations and nationalism. As such, nations present an inherent vulnerability as a result of nationalism’s contradictory objective to unite the culturally fragmented. In order to demonstrate the actuality of the points founded previously in this essay, a case study of the United States in the contemporary setting will be drawn upon. In recent years, a shift towards the populist right of politics has occurred in the West (Kaufman, 2019), characterised by the election of Donald Trump as president of the United States, as well as Britain’s vote exit from the European Union, both of which occurred in 2016. Many view this trend as a manifestation of nationalist sentiments (Kaufman, 2019; Whitehead, Perry & Baker, 2018; Jardina, 2019) with the catalytic factor being that of immigration (Jardina, 2019; Kaufman, 2019; Papademetriou, 2012). As Papademetriou describes, “large-scale immigration has led to unprecedented levels of diversity” which is seen to be “challenging long and closely held notions of national identity” (2012, p. 1).

In the case of White America, a definite escalation of the contradictory nationalism that attempts to associate the culturally fragmented is observed. The rise of “white nationalism” (Hawley, 2017, p. 11) or “Christian nationalism” (Whitehead, Perry & Baker, 2018, p. 148) on display is not one concerned with “privileging the dominant narrative” (Ting, 2008, p. 460) of an ethnic group, but rather one of denial and “exclusion of non-co-ethnics” (Harris, 2016, p. 243). As such, the nationalist sentiments that are present in modern America, it can be justified, are overtly extreme forms of ethnic nationalism. Ethnic nationalism and, in particular, intense forms such as this, have the potential to uncover the vulnerability of nations. It is, however, important to note that the racially fuelled nationalism described, does not resonate with an overwhelming majority of the population, but the fact remains that such exclusionary ideals are present and growing in support (Hawley, 2017). The evidence to prove its presence is unquestionable. In the United States 2016 presidential election, Whitehead, Perry & Baker found that desires to restrict immigration, the stigma of Islamophobia and the desire to defend the nation’s “perceived Christian heritage” (2018, p. 165) were the strongest predictors of voting for Trump. Simultaneously, Hawley references the “meteoric rise” (2017, p. 6) of the online, racist, white-nationalist movement of the “Alt-Right”, that at it its core, wishes “to see the creation of a white ethnostate in North America” (2017, p. 11). There is an overt sentiment of exclusion present in modern America, that is commonly masked by a discourse of national protection or resurrection, accurately depicted by Trump’s 2016 election catchphrase, to “make America great again.” As such, the conclusion can be made that “Americans today remain more polarised around issues of race than ever” (Jardina, 2019, p. 2). Abrajano and Hajnal, reinforce this statement, referencing the 75% voting majority of native born whites. They suggest, “how non-immigrant white Americans respond to this growing immigrant… population is crucial” for the “relations between different racial and ethnic groups within the United States” (Abrajano & Hajnal, 2015, p. 2). Ultimately, a certain vulnerability to the power of the United States may be emerging in the modern setting as a result of the racially infested intersection of immigration and nationalism.

In conclusion, the concept of a nation is one not without vulnerability. Initially, the intangible, and as such, susceptible, construction of the nation was addressed with reference to Anderson’s (1991) ‘imagined communities’ thesis. The vulnerability of nations was further emphasised through the illustration of nationalism as constituting the supports for a strong conceptualisation of the nation. Following on from this, the danger of nationalism itself was explained, depicting an ethnicity-based social movement as conducive to exclusion and division in a nation. Finally, a topical and contemporary case study into the politically polarised state of modern America was incorporated in order to portray the susceptibility of nations in the real world. Ultimately, the conclusion may be drawn that the nation, due to its imaginary construction and dependence on nationalist sentiment, is a necessarily vulnerable concept.

Exploring Art Cécile Plaa Cécile’s art can be found on Instagram via @cile_mcp_art. The South Yarra art collective mentioned refers to the Chapel Street Collective, and can be located here: https://chapelstcollective.com.

Maybe you know me, maybe not. I’m Cécile, residential Arts tutor for two years at St Hilda’s college. I’m the short French woman. I could write about the French language, or European politics and history, but I risk being boring. Academic education is a pillar of our community, but I would like to share with you some thoughts about fine art which is one of my passions and occupations. The lockdown was an opportunity for me to emotionally reinvest in my passion for oil painting. There are many arts and there are as many artistic expressions as there are artists. Everyone explores works in their own way while repeating gestures and techniques passed down from generation to generation. Many artists are inventing new techniques (even more so today with digital art), but it is always beautiful to see that they draw inspiration from their peers. No matter what scale, I like to believe that artists are explorers: they travel and discover. There are many “mediums” in painting: watercolour, gouache, resin, acrylic and oil. For me, oil painting smells of childhood: I started painting this medium at a young age in a fine arts class. As a hyperactive kid, this was the only thing that kept me focused, sometimes for hours. At the age of 10, I did a painting course during the school holidays (two hours in the morning and three hours in the afternoon). Tired, I sat down on my palette. I’ll let you imagine my parents’ faces when I came home in the evening ...

Oil painting is the only medium that I have really worked with. It requires a certain rigour and routine that I appreciate. It is also one of the oldest surviving mediums. Oil painting gradually replaced tempura (egg white paint) during the Renaissance in Italy, then in Flanders and throughout Europe. From the Renaissance to the 19th century, artists, organized in workshops with apprentices, prepared oil paint from natural pigments (mainly plants or minerals) by mixing them with oil (linseed oil most of the time). Pigments were expensive and required a lot of preparatory work. The oil painting took time because it dries slowly, and you work by layers. Fortunately, in the 19th century with industrialisation and modernisation, important inventions were made: tube painting was invented and easels became portable (which allowed the Impressionist movement to paint outdoors, for example). These inventions also gradually allowed oil painting to become more democratic. And thanks to all this, more and more artists (including many women) can paint today. I put ‘women’ in parentheses because unfortunately they are still under-represented in the world of the arts. In terms of data, I will only cite an equivocal report from the French Ministry of Culture: six out of ten students at the Beaux-Arts are women while one in ten awarded artists is a woman.

Personally, painting calms me down and gives me joy. I love the material, the texture of oil painting. I prepare my canvases with terra Siena pigments; when it’s dry I take out my brushes and paint. Most often I paint by mixing images, photos, and memories, or I use objects for still life paintings. I paint in all modesty and do not paint anything revolutionary. On the contrary, my style is quite ‘early twentieth century’. I have always loved Expressionists and would like to paint in a more modern way sometimes, but I continue to paint like when I was 14 years old. The gesture is stronger than the mind. Finally, I have this impression; there is often a disparity between the object I paint and its representation, because I place more importance on the experience of the touch of the brush than on the desire to accurately represent reality. I prefer to paint with my heart rather than with my eyes. Recently, I had the chance and the opportunity to join a collective in South Yarra. Perhaps this will be the occasion to make interesting new experiences and encounters. A French idiom says that we can’t please everyone “on ne peut pas plaire à tout le monde” so if you like my artworks don’t hesitate to talk about it with me or to just have a look on my Instagram. If you do not, I am sure there are several talented artists in this College whom you can encourage.

a teenage guide to godhood Isi Ogwu

Every city has a soul, it seeps out of cracks and weak places, reaches inside us where we can’t see. It makes something out of all us, roots us in place. A city has power, to be taken and moulded. That shapes and changes in turn. The streets today are bloated with energy, the roads curved underneath us as we drive, empty as though carved out for us. If you pressed your ear against the ground, you could have heard it’s beating heart. “Are we seeing everyone tonight?” Addy says from the passenger seat. “I thought we were just getting food?” I let my answer trail off into a question. Addy doesn’t say anything, so I gesture vaguely towards the bag of food balanced on the centre console. She barely glances at it before turning back to me and shrugging with a practiced helplessness, and I have to work hard to keep my face neutral. I find it hard to give Addy a definitive ‘no’ most of the time. You can’t, really, because it tends to escalate any situation almost immediately. What begins as a simple question can become a shrieking argument at any moment. I try to relax my fingers over the faux leather wheel. They burn and itch and the tips, gripping too hard, trying to gather frayed edges back together. Right now, with Addy, it’s just easier to focus on trying to find our spot. I’m not usually the one that drive Today had been long because we had had an argument. At the end of the summer, Addy wanted to leave. She wasn’t happy, she said. She wouldn’t tell me where she was going, or what her plans were. The end of our shared childhood was approaching. In my mind, the two of us would continue as we were, together, moving forward and the others following. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t want that also. “You’ve been happy here before,” I had said. Even as I begged I knew how weak I sounded. I was grasping for anything that I could do, to make her stay. I just wanted to be someone who could keep her here. We were sitting at the table in her kitchen. I was supposed to be helping Addy braid her hair. Instead, I wedged my nail in the cracks in her wooden table over and over again. Her hands moved down the thick bundle of hair at an aggressive pace. Her fingers twined in and out of the strands hypnotically, occasionally pulling down and away to straighten out the rest. She looked at war with herself, the braid pulled taut from her face, and her chin jutted almost angrily in the opposite direction. Her fingers kept on, pulling the sections between and around each other, like two fat spiders with legs going in and out, coiling another thick black rope down the side of her head. From between her teeth, she ground out, “Who said that I was satisfied?” I opened my mouth to say something, but the sound of a key at the door stopped me. It was her dad. Back already? A glance at my phone said it was almost 9. I hadn’t noticed it getting so late.

“Still here?” he chuckled when he saw me. I’d slept over the night before as well. When it came to Addy’s hair, wash day was more of a weekender. And it’s not like I’d had much of a choice. “Yeah!” I tried to be polite anyway; I knew that he wasn’t the one that decided when I was welcome there. “Can hardly stay away,” Addy hummed in agreement. “We’ll be out soon,” she crooned, turning away from me. Next, we would go down to the river. The others would be there as well. It was less of a routine, more of a compulsion. The air between us still simmered. I didn’t argue back. I tried to be okay with the idea of Addy being gone. I tried to imagine how I would be away from her. The picture was fuzzy at the edges, and it made me feel sticky and stupid. I stood up to refill our glasses of water. Addy’s dad whistled lowly, “Whew! You girls are getting tall!” “It’s in the water,” Addy said, like always. “It’s even got calcium that’ll make your teeth stronger.” “Right, right!” from her dad, “First newborn I’ve ever seen come out with teeth.” Addy smiles wide, putting her perfect set on display. Dubious story, but that was just Addy’s family. Proud to a fault, embellishers of truths and spouter of pithy inspirational-isms. I had heard this exact conversation on various occasions, Different participants, different tones. All the same. But she was right about the water, it all came down to the limestone. The entire city was built on it. Our drinking water filtered through it from natural aquifers that supplied the entire region. All of us grew up on it, raised on its hills. In that way, it was inside all of us too. Maybe not so much Addy though, I couldn’t even imagine being anywhere else, or drinking any other water. How did she? I don’t remember exactly when Addy arrived in town, only when we became friends. We were at the Royal Show, I remember that. Too old for it now. Noise too loud, food too greasy, lines too long. But back then we loved it. Summer heat was just beginning to pool in the air with sweet-salty and peppery-grease. Under the roar of the gathered crowd, adrenaline dogged the promise of thrills. We bid our parents goodbye at the entrance. Had we come together? We must have. We did. The showground was massive and dazzling. Addy and I marched through with our sweaty hands firmly clutched together. Parting only to count out money for games, rides and showbags. It was one of these times, long after the sun had set, hours after we were supposed to have met up with our parents that when I reached for her hand again it wasn’t there. For one breathless moment, I lost her. Fear washed over me. It made my hands shake and choked the back of my throat. I heard a keening wail, which I now know sounds eerily like a wounded rabbit. The lanterns lining the pounded down dirt pathway blurred into a horde of glittering fireflies as I ran towards it. When I caught a glimpse of her, precious Addy, pristine white Superstars coated with mud, I fell to my knees at her feet, terrified giggles stealing my breath. I looked up into her indifferent face. Addy’s parents liked to reminisce a lot, that was how they bonded. I couldn’t recall the number of times they had wondered aloud ‘how did the two of you become friends?’ they’d say ‘it’s like you’ve always been this close!’ and an airy laugh or a deep, bubbling chuckle would push the conversation easily along. What they really meant was ‘when did she get you too?’. The right question was ‘when did you learn to be afraid?’. But people never really asked the right questions.

I caught at her hem again, trying to pull myself up. I saw her hand come up, but I felt more than I saw her next movement. A golden palm swinging towards me and an explosion of pain across my cheek. I slipped again, and I could hardly see. The pain and shock were like a blinding light. “Stop,” she commanded. I went still. My hair clinging in dank clumps to my face, my shoulders, my back. I would have lain there in the mud if she wanted me to. “Okay.” I choked out. And she sighed, offered her hand to me and said, “Let’s go.” It was like a knot pulled tight in my head. She called, and could hardly say no. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t want to. I got up, fought with sucking mud I had fallen into, took the hand she dangled in front of me, and walked away with her. Back to the hazy lantern lights of the show. I’m not sure I remember right, but I think after that we went to see the petting zoo. A llama spit in my hair. When she laughed, I was grateful just to hear it. I didn’t let go of her hand again. The other girls were already there when we arrived. The streetlights washed the carpark’s rain-slick bitumen in piss yellow. The intersection next to us was usually busy, but girls skipped and whorled through with music blasting from someone’s speaker. Perth had its way of changing faces. Tonight, she was empty, and hungry for us breathing in time with their fast-beating hearts. Admittedly, this was a different kind of freedom than we were ever afforded. And we knew we weren’t supposed to be gathered like we were. The remembrance of our parents and the more vulnerable girls trapped inside, away from our little kingdom might have made these moments bitter. But the solitude was far too sweet. I knew as soon as Addy stepped out of the car that she wasn’t on her usual bullshit. The other girls too, were different. As we walked over to meet them, dozens of shining eyes, like pilot lights turned to us as one. As the night wore on Addy began to make me increasingly nervous. It was the way that the girls flocked to her. Like sailor to siren. They were only there for her consumption. By Addy’s side, I was a shepherd to the flock, holding them there only long enough for her to swallow. The knowledge that they’d lose her soon only made them more desperate. That could be what made Ann walk directly up to her, like it was safe. “Addy!” she screeched. In between giggles, she kept glancing back towards her little group of friends. So young. I’d bet this is the latest they’d ever stayed out. “After you leave, can I please have your parking spot? You know, the one near the dog park?” Did this slip of a thing even have her license yet? I couldn’t imagine her head even reaching up over the dashboard. Addy’s smile curled across her face like perfumed smoke. “I don’t see why not,” she began, “but you have to do something for me first,” I saw her game. “Addy.” I cut in. It was a stupid bargain to make. Like most things in this city, Addy didn’t own that parking spot – but she and everyone else acted like she did. It wasn’t even like we would be jostling for the good spots in front of the dog park for a long time still. “Don’t make her do anything dumb,” Her neck swivels toward me; her silence is a threat. I can sense the violence building in her already. “Is there a problem?”

Sometimes I think back on conversations I’ve had with Addy and replay them in my mind. But in key moments, where I felt the most frustration or sadness, I imagine myself bending at the waist and screaming as loud as I could. Veins would protrude at the sides of my face, and my eyes would screw up so tight that tears could hardly eek through. I’d ball my hands into fists at my sides, and my whole body would vibrate with the force of my roar. While I do this, Addy would look on shocked. And when it was over I’d stand up. Uncurl my body like I was being pushed flat by a rolling pin. Wipe the sweat that pooled at my temples. Then, the conversation would continue as it happened in reality. I already knew this would be one of those conversations. At present, my mouth feels garbled. I want to talk to her and say something. But I’m not sure what. I give a minute shake of my head No but don’t break eye contact. I’m on my knees reaching out to her again. The depth of my longing disgusts me. I love her and I don’t want her to be this dangerous thing. “Anything,” Ann breathes. Addy smiles, showing off a perfect set of bright, even teeth and nods. Then she hands Ann a pocketknife and draws close to whisper in her ear. When Ann tilts her head to listen, her neck is exposed. The sight sets off an unexpected burning in the back of your eyes. So exposed, so vulnerable. “Really?” Ann asks. She doesn’t glance back at her friends again. Fevered heat pools in her reddened cheeks. When Addy steps away, she keeps her arm around her shoulders. I saw the next events unspool in front of us like thread. See? They never ask the right questions. The things girls do to each other, Addy would quip. Then she would laugh to herself and then to the crowd like she’d just made an uncanny observation. As though she didn’t orchestrate them. Regardless of how it looked, Addy never did anything out of cruelty. Every little test had a lesson, some reason behind it. I knew she didn’t want Ann to get hurt, she didn’t care what happened to her really. She just wanted me to see, to show me that she was in control. The streetlights reflected off the slick roads. It felt like the ground was trembling beneath me, like out near Jandakot when the planes would fly low to the ground. The shrieking reached a fever pitch, I felt myself being taken by it too, swept away in the spectacle. I could hear sirens in my head, inside and all around. When all this is finished, how do we go back to who we were? This was the type of semi-arcane ritual that Addy had always loved. She was always reading books like that – where women grew snakes from their heads, and boys flew into the sun. She always yearned for some godlike mystery in her life. I could imagine how she saw us now, twisting and whirling under that white-hot moon – a revel for her alone, that girl so desperate for her approval. Ready to hurt herself for it. I Imagined this was how Addy always saw herself, some kind of demigoddess crowned above us all, with even her lesser divinities more extraordinary than ours. We are made by this city. We drink from that cup of power that fed us, from its tap water tributaries, silvered conduits between and through us, and Addy at the centre of it all. Ann brings the knife to her finger, a shake in her hand that I might have imagined. And still smiling, she pushed it to the flesh above the first knuckle, like a paring knife to the skin of an apple. All the girls made a sound together, ecstatic, that rose and fell as one. These are the things girls do to each other, the types of lessons that we teach. What we can make each other do, so long as we are willing to put out our necks. This is not an Icarian legend. There are no burning wings here. Just a group of girls and the lingering taste of chalk.

Consent in Relation to Sexual Offences: Submission to the NSW Law Reform Commission’s Consultation Paper 21 Imogen Senior The following article contains discussion of sexual assault and violence. Reader discretion is advised.

This mock law reform submission was submitted for Law, Justice and Social Change, a criminology subject, by Imogen Senior. A law reform submission responds to questions set by a government to explore how law should change to better suit society’s needs. This submission was in response to the Consent in Relation to Sexual Offences commission in NSW, arguing for a defendant to prove the steps they took to ascertain consent, ensuring that it is active rather than assumed. It also advocates for forms of restorative justice outside the frames of the legal system.

Conseducation welcomes the opportunity to contribute to the inquiry into Consent in Relation to Sexual Offences. Conseducation is a student-led organisation, running workshops to challenge sexual violence and rape myths in schools and universities. We ground our teaching in affirmative, ongoing consent, and the importance of ‘checking in’ with partners through every step of sexual encounters. We are influenced and coached by Dr Rachel Burgin, Chair of Rape and Sexual Assault Research and Advocacy. However, we recognise that our educational programs are only part of a solution. Without legal reform, we lack grounds to claim the importance of affirmative, communicative consent. Hence, alongside our educational programs, we advocate for the reduction of sexual harm through legal reform. In turn, the legal system relies on sexual-health education to promote norms and grounds for ‘reasonableness’. Sexual violence can only be reduced with a combined effort of law and cultural change/education. Sexual harm is incredibly widespread– one-in-five women experience sexual violence (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2017), and one-in-two have experienced sexual harassment (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2019). We speak alongside women between 18 and 24, who experience sexual harm at twice the rate of other age groups (Australian Human Rights Commission 2017). 26% of students have been sexually harassed in a university setting, and of the students sexually assaulted, 87% did not make a formal complaint. In 2020, Conseducation ran 97 workshops across NSW, engaging with over 3800 students. Our mission is a world in which all are aware of the importance of safe, healthy sexual relations.

Recommendations: Overall, law should shift the focus, and burden-of-proof, from the complainant’s actions to those of the accused. We wish to centre the needs of the victim-survivor to minimise the impact that a ‘second rape’ can have during a trial (Boyd 2011). Our recommendations are as follows: 1. Define consent as free, voluntary, ongoing and affirmative agreement to a specific act. Consent must be enthusiastically communicated through words or actions and can be revoked at any point. 2. Require the defence to demonstrate the actions they took to ascertain consent. 3. The ‘reasonable belief ’ in consent is only proven through evidence of continued, communicated steps taken to ascertain consent. a. Once the actus reas of sexual assault (non-consensual sex took place) has been proven by the prosecution, the burden-of-proof shifts to the defence to prove they had reasonable belief supported through active steps. 4. Where the actus reas of non-consensual sexual relations took place, but the mens rea cannot be proven, restorative justice is followed outside the frames of criminal law. a. The acquitted undergoes mandated sexual education workshops. b. The court provides admission of harm to the victim and the permission to be viewed as a victim of rape in the eyes of the law. Gendered language Our use of gendered language reflects that sexual assault is a gendered issue. Men account for 97% of sexual assault offenders (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2019). If we fail to acknowledge this, women are further criminalised, and assumed to be perpetrators. Declining numbers of Australians recognise that domestic abusers are more likely to be men (VicHealth 2014), further reinforcing the need for a gendered lens. Background This reform is in response to the case of R v. Lazarus, where an 18-year-old girl was raped behind a club in 2013 (Monaghan & Mason 2018). Though the first trial found Lazarus guilty, a second appealed his conviction. It was never in doubt that sexual intercourse took place, and that the victim-survivor did not consent. Rather, the case rested on mens rea– whether Lazarus knew the victim-survivor was not consenting. To disprove this, the defence relied on rape myths and the victim-survivor’s lack of resistance. The court did not require Lazarus to prove his grounds for a reasonable belief or demonstrate any steps he took to ascertain consent. The perpetrator penetrated the accused anally, yet he offered no indication that he checked with, or even informed, the victim that he was engaging in this new sexual act. This should have been sufficient to fulfil the recklessness aspect of mens rea. The judge’s statement that Lazarus had ‘no reason to enquire’ as to the victim’s consent is incompatible with the stance that consent must be attained for every new act (Monaghan & Mason 2018, p.100). Our recommendations aim to address the failures of the law when applied to this case. 3.2: Meaning of consent Define consent as free, voluntary, ongoing and affirmative agreement to a specific act. Consent must be enthusiastically communicated through words or actions and can be revoked at any point.

The definition of consent should fit the communicative and affirmative model. This defines consent as ongoing, specific and actively-communicated agreement between participants. a) ‘Specific’: consent to one act, such as oral sex, is not consent to another, such as penetrative sex. b) ‘Ongoing’: consent may be withdrawn at any time. c) ‘Enthusiastic’: reluctant/passive consent is not sufficient. d) ‘Free and voluntary’: retained to ensure freedom from coercion or fear. Only evidence that fits these criteria may be used as evidence of consent. This is of particular concern, since Victorian law- a communicative consent model- continues to rely on rape myths (Burgin & Flynn 2019). Cases rely on proving a lack of physical/verbal resistance, drawing on narratives of force and submission (Burgin 2019). This legitimises rape myths by sedimenting them in law. Consent’s ongoing and specific nature implies it cannot be provided in advance. An inference of desire, arousal or flirtation is not indication of consent. Since 87% of sexual violence against women is committed by someone they know, and 40% in their own home (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2019), familiarity and closeness must not equate to consent. Yet friendly interaction is frequently cited in cases as indicating consent (Dyer 2019). Consent must be ascertained holistically. The receival of a yes is contingent upon an environment free from coercion, and it does not necessarily continue throughout sex. Therefore, relying on one indication of consent without consideration of the environment disadvantages the victim (Lockwood-Harris 2018). 5.9: Steps to ascertain consent Require the defence to demonstrate the active, ongoing, communicated steps they took to ascertain consent. Current law: ‘When determining whether consent exists the court must look at all relevant circumstances, including any steps taking by the defendant to determine whether there was consent...’ The language of ‘including any steps’ serves to protect the accused. The accused is not compelled to show what steps they took to ascertain consent, unless it aids in their defence. In order to centre the victim-survivor and shift the burden-of-proof, we recommend the law requires the defence to show evidence of steps they took to ensure consent. These steps must be actively communicated through words or actions, receiving an unequivocally affirmative response. They must not be mere thoughts or considerations. Sexual relations therefore begin with assuming non-consent, as opposed assuming consent until resistance occurs (Burgin, 2019). This also ensures the court does not rely on inferences about consent. ‘Implied consent’ is when everyday action is reconstructed to become indicative of consent (Burgin & Flynn 2019). Male perspectives of women’s behaviour become indications of consent, ingraining misogyny into the court system (Burgin & Flynn 2019). Convictions still rest on what the perpetrator believed about the victim’s actions (Larcombe et al. 2016). For example, this reform seeks to prevent the accused from deciding that flirting, or a victim’s movement, were steps in ascertaining consent. It ensures that the defence cannot benefit from rape myths (Cockburn 2012). We are wary of simplifying complex sexual encounters to a contract. Instead, a focus on continued steps seeks to emphasise that consent is not a single ‘check’, but an ongoing conversation. This is further reinforced through consent education.

While Victorian law has introduced an affirmative definition of consent as above, it does not require steps be taken, and implied consent is still cited in court (Burgin & Flynn, 2019). Victorian law aimed to shift blame from victim to perpetrator by focusing on how the accused viewed the victim’s actions. However, a focus on how the accused interpreted a victim’s actions remains preoccupied with the victim. 5.3: A “reasonable belief ” test The ‘reasonable belief ’ in consent is only proven through evidence of communicative steps taken to ascertain consent. The ‘reasonable belief ’ test evaluates the accused’s grounds for assuming consent (Dyer 2019). The question is not whether any reasonable person would have held such a belief, but whether the accused had reasonable grounds from their perspective. The shift from honest to reasonable belief has not protected victims, failing to implement the objectivity desired by 2007 reforms (Larcombe et al. 2016). Without boundaries on what counts as reasonable from the perspective of the perpetrator, one cannot rule out a possibility of reasonable belief (Burgin & Flynn 2019). Due to their prevalence, rape myths constitute a reasonable/average person’s suspicion of consent (Larcombe et al. 2016), permitting their use as a defence. ‘Reasonableness’ cannot be separated from societal narratives of seduction and sex (Lockwood-Harris 2018). The reasonableness standard is set by masculine ideas of sexuality (Burgin 2019). Reasonableness is never taken from the woman’s perspective (Pineau 1989). Rape myths are shown to heavily influence decision-making, including ideas of what constitutes ‘real rape’ (Leverick 2020, p.257). Combining this with statistics on the prevalence of rape myths, a disturbing picture arises. VicHealth (2014) shows some of the most prevalent rape myths in Australia: - Almost one-in-three believe that women lie about rape when they regret sex. - Two-in-five believe rape charges are used as a form of revenge. - One-in-three believe that men cannot control their desire for sex. The solution is to narrow the definition of ‘reasonable belief ’, by grounding it in a communicative model of consent as ongoing, affirmative and specific. It follows that ‘reasonable grounds’ may only be found by demonstrating communicated steps taken to ascertain continued consent. Under this law, if a person had not ascertained consent through active steps, and the person was not consenting, it is convictable rape (Dyer 2019). In addition, long-term education is shown to improve perceptions on rape myths, and directly impact outcomes in court (Leverick 2020). By shifting social norms to require partners ensure consent through active steps, a reasonable person naturally becomes someone who checked their partner was consenting. It becomes unreasonable and reckless to assume consent. This social change may be facilitated by legal change, contrary to current law which reinforces social narratives of rape myths. 5.3 and 5.9 Once the actus reas of sexual assault has been proven by the prosecution, the burden-of-proof shifts to the defence to prove reasonable belief supported through active steps. Most trials under Victorian law have proven that non-consensual sex took place (actus reas), with acquittal rather due to lack of proof for mens rea. 1. As per the presumption of innocence, the prosecution must prove the actus reas: that sexual intercourse took place, to which the complainant did not consent. 2. Once actus reas is proven, the defence must disprove mens rea, demonstrating ‘reasonable belief ’ through the steps leading them to believe in the presence of consent. Only this will result in acquittal.

Our previous recommendations facilitate this shift. By requiring demonstration of the accused’s active steps to prove ‘reasonable belief ’, the burden-of-proof for mens rea has already shifted to the accused. This also reinforces affirmative and communicative consent as a responsibility (Monaghan & Mason 2018). To prove reasonable grounds through continued and active steps, it becomes likely that the accused will have to testify. TOR- Question 5 Construct an alternative method of justice within the courts for occasions where actus reas is proven and mens rea is not. Include: a) Compulsory education programs for the acquitted. b) Admission of harm to the victim. Reform has made minimal impact on sexual assault statistics so far (Phillips & Chignon 2020). Statistics on violence remain static (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2017) despite reforms across the country. We propose an alternative method of seeking justice within the legal system beyond reasonable doubt, occurring only after a trial. This is not an alternative to criminal trials. If the actus reas can be proven, but the mens rea cannot, the accused is not convicted, having believed there was consent. However, the accused still had sex without consent. Their misunderstanding of the crime, while not proving them guilty, presents risk to society. We therefore propose the court system manage harm through actionable steps without relying on punishment. This includes compulsory education programs and acknowledgement that sexual assault occurred- aiding in providing closure for victim-survivors, validating experience and acknowledging harm. Our aim must be to centre the victim-survivors’ wishes and autonomy, not to seek retribution/punishment or carceral expansion. By giving victim-survivors a voice, the courts can embrace retributive justice. Longer prison sentences for perpetrators is not a long-term solution. Carceral feminism relies on police and prisons to stop sexual assault, failing to centre prevention (Phillips & Chignon 2020). The court system remains focused on, punitive responses to structural conditions that worsen violence against men (Lockwood-Harris 2018). We encourage the reform to acknowledge the importance of increasing resources for community education and prevention, working to prevent sexual violence.

Actions and Interaction Casey Casimaty

Actions and Interaction was written for the Hilda’s 2021 Mental Health Writing Competition, and is about withdrawing from the people and world around us.

Newton’s 3rd law states that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This law extends out beyond an ideal world where ball hits wall and wall hits ball. It represents our ties because we all have to try to reply to those interactions. The relativity of time seems to only apply to you. You’re confined to your sector of the universe and the whole world is rushing by, You’re reminded of the past but now everything is so fast, and they’re forgetting about you. But maybe Newton got it wrong. Because all along you come to realise that you’re the only one providing the first push. The reactions becomes less and less equal until there are no longer any opposites. And it’s just you. Alone. No external force to keep you in motion. 34

Martian Climatic Evolution: Life Before Earth Casey Casimaty Martian Climactic Evolution is a Past Climates research essay, focusing on the conditions of Mars several millions of years ago, and what climatic changes have since occurred to make it now inhospitable to life.

As Earth becomes hotter and less habitable due to climate change, scientists speculate about moving a civilisation to Mars. While the current environment on Mars is known for being barren and unhabitable, the climate on the planet has not always been this way (Jakosky & Phillips, 2001). Several billion years ago, Mars had the means to potentially support life, but the climate has since evolved. The discovery of fluvial processes on Mars led scientists to wonder if the origin of life started somewhere other than the green and blue planet where it currently is (Bouley et. al, 2016; McKay & Stoker, 1989). The surface of Mars has several valleys that were most likely formed by fluvial processes. This indicates that there once was liquid water present on the now desert-like planet (Bouley et. al, 2016; Catling, n.d.). Scientists have since studied the history of the climate on the Martian planet and found that over 4 billion years ago, Noachain Mars was more habitable than Hadean-Archean Earth, despite having similar conditions (McKay & Stoker, 1989). They both had thick, CO2 heavy atmospheres with warm climates that could regulate liquid water (Pollack et. al, 1987). Ancient Mars was believed to have had water, minerals, and suitable energy sources etc. that enhanced the chances of the planet supporting life (Dong et. al, 2018; Catling, n.d.). Earth’s earliest known biosphere was 3.5 billion years ago (McKay & Stoker, 1989). Scientists are still unsure as to why Mars had water first. At this point in history, the solar luminosity of the sun was not as strong.

Solar radiation and heat should not have been reaching the planet Mars, let alone Earth (Wordsworth, 2016). Without the sun to aid warming the planet, any water on Mars would have been too cold to be in its liquid state. Scientists speculate if life origins have connections between the two planets. Tharsis, a volcano on Mars, may be the reason the climate was so Earth-like several billion years ago (Bouley et. al, 2016). Scientists believe that the large volcano was formed due to stress pressure under the mantle of Mars, along with lithosphere loading and isostatic compensation (Mege & Masson, 1996). The carbon dioxide and water vapour emitted at eruption may have caused the atmosphere to become thicker (Bouley et. al, 2016). This thicker atmosphere would have caused Mars to be warmer and hence liquid water to run on the planet. Even though Tharsis is still present on the surface, modern day Mars no longer has liquid water (Jakosky & Phillips, 2001). Mansfield et. al (2018) used the MAVEN spacecraft to conclude that atmospheric loss is consistent with Mars becoming a planet where ice cannot melt. The atmosphere has most likely been thinned out due to solar winds as they were much stronger 4 billion years ago (Dong et. al, 2018). These stripped the lighter carbon isotopes, thinning the atmosphere (Jakosky, 2017; Lepvy, 2001).

This left Mars to be the cold, desert planet it is today. Any water present on its surface would quickly evaporate out and freeze as it reached higher atmospheric levels (Jakosky & Phillips, 2001). Space is a vast and wonderful thing; there is so much that is unknown about it. The past climate of Mars can be inferred by studying the processes that shaped the landscape. Such analysis has led scientists to believe that the introduction of a volcano caused Mars to potentially support life long before its neighbouring planets. If this is the case, it may change the way the history of the origin of life is perceived.

Geological timescales of Earth and Mars (Gangle, 2007).

Parkinson’s Disease and L-dopa Imogen Quilty This work was produced by Imogen Quilty for her subject 'Human Physiology' while enrolled in pharmaceutical science. It focuses on the Parkinson's medication 'L-dopa' and aims to investigate and communicate the rationale for use of a therapeutic approach in treating a defined disease state.

Parkinson’s disease (PD) is a progressive neurodegenerative disease. Approximately four people per one thousand Australians are diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, with that prevalence rising to one in one hundred people over once over the age of sixty (Better Health Channel, 2021). While it is still largely unknown what causes the onset of Parkinson’s disease or the extent of interactions within neural pathways, it can be characterized by the major loss or dopaminergic neurons (Cure Parkinson’s, 2021). Patients with Parkinson’s experience a loss of motor functions, producing the symptomatic bradykinesia, resting tremors, and rigidity. L-dopa has been the primary source of treatment for Parkinson’s disease since the 1960s and remains today as the most effective medication for treatment of symptoms of Parkinson’s (Sujith, 2017). While it is not a cure for the disease, it does help to restore patients’ quality of life and daily function. Normal Physiology and the Impact of Parkinson’s Disease The central nervous system is responsible for the regulation and production of fine motor control. This is determined by many sophisticated interactions that occur between related structures within the brain. An extremely important area within this process is the substantia nigra located in the basal ganglia of the ventral midbrain. It consists of an extensive network of neurons that connect itself through nigrostriatal pathways to the striatum, located within the forebrain (Triarhou, 2013).

The substantia nigra mainly consists of dopaminergic neurons that produce and transport dopamine through nigrostriatal pathways to innervate neurons in the striatum. These neurotransmitters are vital to the planning and co-ordination of movement and allow for fluidity of movement. Dopamine acts as a regulator reducing the influence of the indirect pathway within the basal ganglia and increasing the efficiency of the direct pathway (Crocker, 1997). Therefore, decreased dopaminergic transmission caused by dopaminergic cell death associated in PD leads to an increase in cortical excitation of striatal neurons, producing an imbalance in the sects of striatal neurons that control the functional output of the basal ganglia (Triarhou, 2013). This can be seen in the increased innervation of GABAnergic neurons, leading to a heightened inhibitory effect from GABA (Belousov & Pol, 1997) and a rise in cholinergic neural activity, causing further disruption of neural transmission (Aosaki et al., 2010). Effects of L-dopa on Target Cellular Components L-dopa is the primary treatment used to target PD symptoms. It is the chemical precursor to dopamine which once converted works to reestablish dopamine levels in depleted areas of the brain. As a conformational change occurs to produce its active form, it is classed as a pro-drug (DrugBank Online, 2021). This occurs through the action of the enzyme aromatic-L-aminoacid decarboxylase which cleaves 2 oxygen and 1 carbon off the L-dopa molecule to form dopamine.

The pro-drug delivery system is utilised as dopamine is unable to cross the blood brain barrier due to its polar nature. Therefore, levodopa is used to cross the blood brain barrier through an amino acid transporter called L type amino acid transporter 1 (LAT1). This occurs as L-dopa is a substrate by LAT1 which is prominently expressed in the blood brain barrier. The transmembrane protein properties of LAT1 allows for passage of L-dopa directly into the CNS where it can be metabolised into the active form (Puris et al., 2020). Once inside the CNS L-dopa is up taken by dopaminergic neurons, dopa decarboxylase is present and a conformational conversion occurs. Briefly dopamine is stored within the cell until an action potential stimulus occurs. This opens voltage gated calcium channels and allows for the influx of calcium ions into the terminal. This produces a conformation change in docked synaptic vesicles containing dopamine to stimulate the fusion and release of the dopamine through exocytosis. Released dopamine can therfore diffuses across the synapse and can bind to G-coupled dopamine receptors D1-5 on the post-synaptic cell (Mishra et al., 2018). It should be noted that L-dopa is typically administered in combination with peripheral decarboxylase inhibitors. This is primarily to prevent the breakdown of levodopa in the periphery. Decarboxylase inhibitors improve the half life of the drug, as without it, most of the intended dopamine would be broken down and would never reach the target neurones (National Center for Biotechnology Information, 2021). Use of L-dopa for Treatment of Parkinson’s L-dopa is used for the treatment of Parkinson’s symptoms, specifically bradykinesia. Typically, it is used once other anti-Parkinsonism drugs are unable to fully mitigate symptoms (Gandhi et al., 2020). The drug has no ability to stop dopaminergic cell death, only acting to improve dopamine levels directly by supplying L-dopa for conversion. Therefore, once a certain level of dopaminergic cell death occurs there is a lack of available neurons to perform the conformational change needed to produce dopamine from L-dopa. The medication has little to no success in prolonging lifespan but instead helps to improve quality of life as the disease progresses. The drug allows for the restoration of dopamine production in the substantia nigra as well as the nigrostriatal pathway for transport of the dopamine to the striatum.

Permitting for the communication of motor pathways and related structures such as the thalamus and motor cortex once again. This increases the smoothness fluidity of movement within the patient. There are a variety of commonly experienced side effects associated with both short term and long-term use of L-dopa. Gastrointestinal tract complications can produce persistent nausea and vomiting. (Parkinson, 2021). Long term use over 5-10 years can often result in levodopa- induced dyskinesia, producing symptomatic spasming in the neck, facial musical, jaw, and other structures. This is theorised to be produced by an increased sensitivity of dopaminergic neurons from L-dopa use (Sanjay, 2017). Moreover, L-Dopa enhances patient well-being through the conversion of L-dopa to dopamine to counteracts the lack of dopaminergic transmission caused by dopaminergic cell death. Clearly the use of L-dopa within the treatment of PD is limited, as the treatment is unable to stop the diseases progression. However, it remains as the “golden standard treatment” (Sujith, 2017) due to its potency and efficiency in relieving symptoms.

Time Heals SM The following article contains elements of parental death and medical-related trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

My mother is fading fast now. Her presence slipping from my life, Like sweat off the skin, On a scorching summers day. She is mostly absent, Mostly on the end of a phone, In a land of otherness. (Sometimes not even there.) I watched her today, As her smile faltered, And her breath quickened, (when her heart stumbled.) As doctors rattled off orders. (Sometimes I pretend I’m in a diner). That the order’s for a serve of fries. Rather than for the defibrillator. I keep my breathing steady, Closing my eyes, opening again. Desperately ignoring, As the arms of death try to (embrace her.) The darkness reaching out, Talons grasping and pulling— Gaping maws consuming— Every facet of self. They notice my stare and laugh. Taking more, Taking faster— Greedily snatching up what they want.

She ripples, Becoming, slowly, Translucent. (Where I cannot reach her). Hands shaking, Breath rasping, Tears falling, As she does. Succumbing to the pulling hands, And deeper depths of death. “It would be kinder to let her go” My head snaps round, shaking becomes contagious, vision fogging up. I couldn’t figure which was worse— The mind outlasting the body, —Or the body outlasting the mind. T’was the former (for mine.) Stumbling to express herself, To breathe through the pain. There is nothing worse, in this world, Than seeing your parents cry. (Someone told me that once), I concluded it was true. Watching my father sob, Agony overriding other sense. Hours on computers searching for answers, (Which could not be found). Trying to throw out a lifesaving ring, To pull her back in. Boxing at the shadows jumping out to steal her. But there is a worse thing, As the dinging of the life support ceased. Infinitely worse— (watching a parent die).

A Chance of Rain Anam Cara

How is it that our behaviour Is so effective at concealing The inner workings of our minds? Tell me, how can I turn raging seas To calm night as if removing a Pot of water from the stove? And are we so preoccupied with Keeping our own simmering Just below the surface That when we sit and talk And laugh with others we seldom Spy theirs about to boil over. Is it a silent promise between us all, To speak not a word And suffer (always alone.) To never look too close. Better not discuss our pain, worries, fears. (Don’t kill the mood.) 41

Our facades seem far too effective. I wished, often, That someone would notice. I wondered if you looked Close enough into my eyes Perhaps you might spy her. My soul curled up in a dark corner. The abyss of my raging mind an eternal Torment where suffering was permanent. If you would see her silently screaming, Tears flowing freely. While I hold mine back And we discuss what a lovely day it is out.

The Association Between High Blood Pressure and Changes in Human Gut Microbial Metabolic Pathways Michael Nakai Michael’s paper on the association between hypertension and gut microbial metabolism is available online: https://www.ahajournals.org/doi/10.1161/HYPERTENSIONAHA.121.17288. When I originally graduated from Unimelb, I expected that I would go into infection disease research. After all, my undergraduate major was in pathology, and my honors year focused on trying to specifically deliver therapeutic molecules to cancer cells. It would be a surprise to my freshly-graduated self, then, to discover that I’d be authoring a paper focused on the effects of gut bacteria on the human body three years later. For many people, the gut is a simple organ (at least, it was for me). You eat, it digests, and anything left over comes out the other end. In reality though, every time your stomach dissolves food into a liquid-y paste (called chyme) and passes it to your gut, an extremely complex series of reactions occur in tandem. First, your gut starts undulating, causing the muscles surrounding the gut to pulsate. This undulation pushes the chyme further and further down your small and large intestine, and keeps it in motion. A series of hormones are released by your brain and travel around your body through the bloodstream, causing various changes that both allow digestion to easily occur, and prime your body to receive any nutrients extracted from the chyme. And lastly, but most importantly, your own little army of bacteria start going to work. We often think of bacteria in the context of disease, from everyday sniffles to life-threatening complications. However, the bacteria in your gut serve a wholly different purpose. They are the bread and butter of your digestive system and your gut immune system, among others.

They break down fibrous and otherwise hardto-digest molecules in your food, freeing up amino acids and energy that we use to maintain a healthy everyday life. They protect you against many food and waterborne diseases by killing the bacteria or viruses that get past your stomach acid. Your gut immune system even uses them to train itself, and makes sure that it doesn’t attack them. Taken as a total, these bacteria in your gut, which collectively make up your gut microbiome, are amazingly important to your survival. But can these small organisms, perhaps, play a role in non-infectious disease? At first, it seems like there is no link here: how could a small collection of bacteria in your gut influence your whole body? Yet, year by year, the amount of data confirming the importance of the gut microbiome increases. Dysfunctional gut microbiomes have been linked to everything from asthma (Hufnagl, Pali-Schöll et al. 2020) to cancer biology (Zitvogel, Galluzzi et al. 2015). One of the fields where the gut microbiome is implicated to play a large role is in cardiovascular biology, and here’s where my lab enters the story. I currently work as a research assistant and bioinformatician in the Marques lab at Monash University in addition to tutoring at St. Hilda’s College. The Marques lab focuses on the link between the gut microbiome and hypertension (high blood pressure), and looks at how introducing dietary fiber in a person’s diet can affect this hypertension.

Certain types of dietary fiber are broken down into short chain fatty acids (SCFAs) which then can bind onto many different receptors on many of your cells. This binding has a multitude of effects on the body, including tempering the gut immune system, protecting your gut against unnecessary inflammation, and the maintenance of gut barrier integrity (to put it simply: less diarrhea). This digestion of dietary fiber into SCFAs is actually done by, you guessed it, your gut bacteria, although a range of efficiencies exist. Certain species of gut bacteria are extremely quick at this digestion, while others are either extremely inefficient at this digestion, or don’t have the digestive capabilities in the first place. Here’s where my research enters the picture. Our lab previously found that high fiber diets, along with SCFA supplementation, prevent the development of hypertension and heart failure in mice (Marques, Nelson et al. 2017), while low fiber diets tended to lead to cardiovascular disease in mice (Kaye, Shihata et al. 2020). The next step was then to perform an observational study in humans, looking at whether participants with hypertension have altered gut microbiomes compared to participants with normal blood pressure. To achieve this, we recruited 65 participants (45 without hypertension, 20 with) across two clinics (Nakai, Ribeiro et al. 2021). We then recorded all possible demographical data about the participant (age, sex, exercise per week, smoking status, etc.) as well as dietary information via a food frequency questionnaire. We also collected fecal samples from each participant, which then had all the bacterial DNA extracted (yuck) and sequenced, allowing us to figure out exactly which species of bacteria were found in each participant’s gut microbiome. To analyze whether a variable had an effect on the gut microbiome, or vice versa, we created Principal Coordinates Analysis (PCoA) plots that show how similar each participant’s gut microbiome is to each other, and then labelled the participants by category. To put it simply, if two samples are similar, then they are located close together on a PCoA plot, meaning that samples further from each other have quite different gut microbiomes. If hypertension had a clear effect on the gut microbiome, we’d expect to see the colors separating out into groups, since hypertensive people would have similar gut microbiomes to each other, and quite different microbiomes to healthy controls. However, that wasn’t seen at all when I first analyzed our data.

So can we say that hypertension really doesn’t have an effect on the gut microbiome in humans from that plot? Here’s where the story gets interesting. Human data is inherently more “noisy” than cell or mouse data for the simple fact that you can’t keep a person in a cage, feed them the exact same thing for months, and make sure that they aren’t exposed to any complicating variables without having a quite stern talking to by the police. Humans are complicated: we grow up in our own environments, with different family dynamics, different diets, and have different motivations and goals in life. What this means is that the variance in gut microbiomes is inherently much larger in humans than in mice, so teasing out correlations can be extremely hard. In that case, how do we even start to try and reduce this noise? The approach we settled on was computational: I created a script in the R programming language that created an error model for the data (via a machine learning function), then applied the model to our data and de-noised it to the best of its ability. Simply, the error model only looks for species of bacteria that significantly change in abundance within each group (for example, hypertensives vs non-hypertensives) or that are highly abundant and throw the rest out (to varying degrees). This approach worked surprisingly well, with the postdenoising PCoA plot showing a clear grouping. This, along with other analyses (which would add an additional 10 pages to this already-long piece), supported the idea that the digestive capabilities in the gut microbiome were significantly different between hypertensives and healthy participants, which is an exciting find, and opens up the door to more therapeutic studies.

Botulinum Toxin A as an Adjunct to Retromuscular Repair of Large Ventral Hernias Luke Foley This is a modified excerpt from a research project residential tutor Luke Foley completed in 2020. The project involved designing a randomised controlled trial to evaluate the effectiveness of botulinum toxin A (Botox) in assisting in the repair of large ventral hernias. A ventral hernia is a defect or gap in the wall of the abdomen. Abdominal contents often protrude through this gap, leading to a bulge.

Large ventral hernias, defined as a hernia with a defect >10cm in width, pose a significant surgical challenge (1, 2). Ventral hernias are a common complication post abdominal surgery affecting up to 20% of patients. Of these patients, anywhere between 15 to 47% develop a large ventral hernia. These hernias impose significant morbidity on a patient with reduced quality of life due to back pain, chronic wounds, and ventilation disturbance (2). Large ventral hernia repairs are a technically challenging surgery with lower rates of primary closure and higher rates of recurrence (3-5). These recurrences expose patients to more postoperative complications such as infection and wound dehiscence (5). Patients post large ventral hernia repair can also experience complications such as ventilatory restriction and abdominal compartment syndrome (2, 4). All of these factors contribute to worse patient outcomes and a high financial and resource burden on the healthcare system (5). Botulinum Toxin A (BTA) has emerged as a promising adjunct in the treatment of ventral hernias with a large defect (3-6). BTA has well-established use as a muscle paralysis agent in a range of conditions including limb spasticity, detrusor muscle overactivity, and cervical dystonia (3). BTA is a neurotoxin that works by inhibiting the release of acetylcholine from motor neurons at the neuromuscular junction.

This results in flaccid paralysis of muscle within 2 days of injection and lasts for 3 to 6 months (3). The paralytic action of BTA has the potential to reduce the contracted lateral abdominal wall muscle that develops in patients with large hernias that makes achieving primary closure difficult (3, 7, 8). The

current literature reveals encouraging outcomes when BTA is used to aid in ventral hernia repair. Much of the research to date has focused on complex and giant ventral hernias with loss of domain (3-21). Loss of domain is a feature of giant ventral hernia and may be a feature of a complex ventral hernia. (10, 22). Loss of domain (LOD) occurs when the abdominal cavity can no longer accommodate all of the abdominal contents (3). The current literature on BTA as an adjunct in hernia describes mainly hernias with LOD. In these studies, a lengthening of lateral abdominal wall musculature by between 2.5 and 4cm per side was observed (3, 5). Several studies also describe high rates of primary fascial closing (4, 9, 10). Studies also report low recurrence rates and low rates of postoperative complications (3, 4, 9). BTA injections in abdominal wall muscle have also been shown to have no serious adverse effects with only some studies reporting minor side effects such as bloating, weaker cough, and sneeze (3, 23).

The current gold standard in the repair of ventral hernias is the Rives Stoppa retromuscular repair (8, 24). This procedure involves the placement of mesh in the retrorectus space to reinforce the abdominal wall (25). This procedure has been useful in large defects >10cm but it often requires adjunctive surgical techniques such as further component separation or transverses abdominus release (8, 25). These techniques have been reported to distort abdominal wall anatomy, are associated with increased risk of wound complications and increased risk of abdominal wall failure (3). BTA has the potential to reduce the need for these adjunctive surgical techniques and hence to improve outcomes (3, 8). The research

into BTA as an adjunct to ventral hernia repair to date has largely consisted of cohort studies and case series. There is an identified need for randomised controlled clinical trials for the use of BTA in ventral hernia repair (5, 9).

Maternal SMCHD1 Regulation of Hox Gene Expression and Patterning in the Mouse Embryo Natalia Benetti This year Natalia wrote a paper on her work on maternal SMCHD1 and Hox genes which is currently under review at Nature Communications. A preprint of this manuscript is available online: https://dx.doi.org/10.1101/2021.09.08.459528.

In addition to being a Residential Tutor for biology at St Hilda’s College, I am a third year PhD student in Professor Marnie Blewitt’s Laboratory in the Epigenetics and Development Division at the Walter and Eliza Hall Institute of Medical Research and the Department of Medical Biology at The University of Melbourne. The Blewitt lab investigates epigenetic mechanisms of gene silencing during embryonic development. Genetic information is inherited through generations in the form of DNA, which is contained in the nucleus of every cell. DNA carries all the information required for an organism to develop from a single cell and survive as a fully developed organism. As such, all cells in an adult organism contain the same genes, as encoded by their DNA sequence. A single-celled zygote is able to differentiate into different cell and tissue types as it grows due to different genes being switched on and off at the right times during development. This differential gene expression is controlled by epigenetic mechanisms, whereby chemical modifications are made to DNA or proteins it is wrapped around to alter gene expression without changing the DNA sequence itself (reviewed in Li, 2002). Everybody in our lab works on understanding the molecular function of a protein called SMCHD1, which my supervisor Marnie discovered during her PhD (Blewitt et al., 2005, Blewitt et al., 2008).

SMCHD1 is a biologically important epigenetic gene silencer, such that female mouse embryos which lack SMCHD1 protein die mid-gestation and mutations in SMCHD1 are associated with human disease (reviewed in Jansz et al., 2017).

My PhD project is specifically focused on investigating the role of SMCHD1 in silencing a set of developmentally important genes during embryonic development called Hox genes. Hox genes are highly evolutionarily conserved such that they are present in all animals and are required for the correct patterning of the anterior-to-posterior axis of the developing embryo (Lewis, 1978). These genes need to be switched on and off at precisely the right times during mammalian embryonic development for correct skeletal patterning to form, for example ensuring that thoracic elements have ribs and that cervical elements don’t (reviewed in Mallo et al., 2010). Mice which lack SMCHD1 protein exhibit abnormal skeletal patterning caused by aberrant Hox gene expression (Jansz et al., 2018). One of the questions I aimed to answer in my PhD was whether SMCHD1 has a maternal effect on Hox genes. Upon conception, all of the cytoplasm (the entire cell apart from the nucleus, containing all proteins) comes from the mother’s egg,

- while the sperm contains only half the DNA of a normal somatic cell and no cytoplasm (the egg also supplies half the DNA of a somatic cell) (reviewed in Kim and Lee, 2014). Hence, until the zygote’s own genes are activated (which is around the 2-cell stage for most genes in mice (Schulz and Harrison, 2019), but at the 32-cell stage for SMCHD1 (Wanigasuriya and Gouil et al., 2020)), the growing zygote is reliant upon the proteins supplied by the mother’s egg to grow. Proteins which are present in the oocyte and are required for normal development are called maternal effect proteins.

To test whether maternal SMCHD1 regulates Hox genes we generated a mouse model in which the Smchd1 gene was deleted in the oocyte of the mother, hence there was no SMCHD1 protein present in the cytoplasm of the oocyte. We crossed these female mice to males which had normal Smchd1 genes, so embryos yielded from this cross had no SMCHD1 protein until their own Smchd1 gene (inherited from the father) was activated. Comparing to appropriate controls which had maternal SMCHD1, we saw that Smchd1 maternally deleted embryos consistently exhibited precocious Hox gene activation, leading to abnormal skeletal patterning later in development. This is a very unexpected finding because maternal SMCHD1 is only present until embryonic day (E) 2.75 in the mouse, yet we observed altered Hox gene expression much later in development at E8.5 and altered skeletal patterning at E17.5.

SMCHD1 is an epigenetic silencer protein which silences Hox genes during mouse embryonic development. (a) Cartoon depiction of the SMCHD1 protein as a homodimer, showing the C-terminal DNA binding hinge domain and the N-terminal ATPase and ubiquitin-like (UBL) domains. (b) Diagram showing the genomic organisation of Hox genes in mammals. Mammals have four paralogous clusters of Hox genes 1-13, which are temporally expressed in a co-linear fashion according to their chromosomal position. (c) Summary of the timeline of murine embryonic development, with annotations showing temporal Smchd1 and Hox gene expression. The location of Hox gene expression along the developing anterior-to-posterior axis is the same as their chromosomal order such that Hox1 paralogues are expressed most anteriorly and Hox13 paralogues are expressed most posteriorly.

Roses: Withdrawing Anonymous

A rose bush, amongst green a bloody swath of red. Exuberant; by one another the roses are fed. Crowing self-praise amongst silent ears – Empty of truth, but masking their tears. A dash of white stands apart from the rest – Not of choice, a cast of marble its vest. But marble cannot a rose sustain; What can loneliness bring, ‘cept pain? A thorn’s embrace to warm an armament of stone; Deluded in destiny, fitfully dreaming of a buried throne. Torn asunder, a choice between company and slumber – Secure in its own lies, need a rose ponder? Yet the rose lacks conviction, that cardinal sin – Maybe it can yet, finally discover who to call kin. Its sickly-sweet scents ply their trade In vain, For not a rose shall be swayed. What onus can one place on the sane? And thus, another story goes untold; Alone, a rose shall but mould.

Botanical Watercolour Art and the Botanical Mali Gordon

This botanical watercolour pieces is an excerpt of a triptych by Mali Gordon. Mali’s art can be viewed on Instagram via @maligordonart 50

Critical Analysis of the “Culture Industry” Alanah Hardy This work was produced by Alanah Hardy for the subject ‘Media and the Society’. It evaluates the currency of Adorno and Horkheimer’s theory of the “culture industry” as an academic media studies approach through the case study of the contemporary commodification of Mickey Mouse. As media’s role in contemporary society becomes highly interdependent, intertwined and yet, invisible, it is critical to re-evaluate the currency of academic approaches to Media Studies. By assessing Adorno and Horkheimer’s concept of the “culture industry”, I argue that the industrialisation of media, with focus on Mickey Mouse as the epitome of culture commercialisation, is exceedingly prevalent in consumer capitalist behaviours today. The culture industry, as a Marxist critique of media, is best interpreted through two lenses. The first highlights capitalism as underpinning everything that is produced within media (Adorno and Horkheimer, 1947). This suggests that media’s commodities are no longer form of self-expression, but rather, are produced from society’s needs in order to acquire economic value. Adorno and Horkheimer argue that this capitalistic shift means that products, like applications on a phone, are based off similar frameworks, so in the end, are “identical” (1947, pp. 32). This not only makes it easier to market, sell and profit as the product is a known commodity, but also, the differentiation between products becomes the amount of “blatant cash investment” that is funded (Adorno and Horkheimer, 1947, pp. 34). This is a key point as it demonstrates how the quality of technology and media is measured on the capital invested, influencing individuals to focus on the economic value over the content or intention. Thus, the culture theory addresses the way in which media and cultural artefacts have become monetised through capitalist domination of society.

The second lens of the theory underlines a collective ideology which has masked the true nature of society’s media consumption. In this view, Adorno and Horkheimer claim that individual consciousness is rendered useless as its need has already been suppressed by “central control” (1947, pp. 33). Indicating that the consumer does not see the necessity of fighting against the industry as they are naïve to its deception. However, ideology requires continual consumption by the mass in order to work. Adorno and Horkheimer suggest that this is achieved through the illusion of the outside world being an extension of what is presented on screen (1947, pp. 35). Creating consumers who are absorbed into the ease of not having to use their imagination; transitioning from the individual mind to the mind of the mass. Another way mass consumption is maintained is through the “cheating of what [the culture industry] perpetually promises” (Adorno and Horkheimer, 1947, pp. 38). Dissatisfaction, which is heavily played on through the act of offering but depriving, locks the consumer into a power contract where they continue to come back for more as they are not yet satisfied. Consequently, this reinforcement has normalised the media’s control and influence over society, becoming an entity which is never disputed against as it is recognised as an essential part of everyday life. Hence, Adorno and Horkheimer expose ideology as the reason for the lack of consumer enlightenment regarding media’s mass deception.

The cultural commodification of Mickey Mouse presents a dire picture of how embedded the culture industry is within contemporary society. Beginning as the byproduct of a character rights argument between Walt Disney and Universal Pictures, Mickey Mouse’s debut in Steamboat Willie, 1928, launched his name into the limelight (Suddath, 2008). Utilising this new-found recognition within the public sphere, Disney brought out all types of Mickey merchandise targeted at the most manipulable consumer group; children. By applying the filter of the culture industry, the creation of Mickey Mouse, and subsequent marketing strategies, can be seen as Disney’s gamble at economic wealth and capital supremacy, instead the product of his artistic selfexpression. As well, within two years of the film’s release, a fan club for children was established called the “Mickey Mouse Club” (Suddath, 2008), further evidence for the naturalisation of capitalistic consumer habits from an early age. However, is not just one generation that associate their childhood with Mickey. Adorno and Horkheimer argue that the renewal of past commodities using contemporary platforms are a prime example of how the industry generates the most profit out of a product and maintains mass control (1947, pp. 38). This can be seen with the Mickey Mouse comic strip, the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (2006 – 2016) an interactive animated children’s television series and Epic Mickey (2010) a video game which reinvented Mickey’s image to increase the consumer demographic. Furthermore, Mickey is dominating social media trends with the necessity of uploading a selfie with Mickey ears on when visiting one of the many Disney theme parks around the world. Thus, Mickey Mouse’s industrialisation throughout the 20th century to present day is symbolic of how the culture industry remains well-embedded within society. Despite strong arguments for the relevancy of the culture industry, in light of the exponential advancements in technology and media consumption experienced today, there are two central criticisms that challenge this theory. The first being the context from which Adorno and Horkheimer were writing this theory. Both authors, after escaping the control of Nazi Germany and fleeing to America, saw media and culture as way in which individuals could gain a significant amount of power over consumers, especially through national propaganda as a influential method of manipulating the masses.

This enlightenment of the exploitative nature of media create bias within their argument as they were not able to comprehend a less pessimistic view of media consumption. The second limitation is the types of media available when Adorno and Horkheimer devised the theory. Drawing on radio and television which relied on certain time slots, they suggest media standardises everything so that consumers are subjected and regulated by these particular times. However, with the advent of the internet, and until only recently, subscription-based screening services like Netflix, the industry appears to be moving towards a model that encourages individual media experiences. Therefore, it should be noted that while the theory has strengths, it also has weaknesses which need to be understood when discussing its overall relevancy. Adorno and Horkheimer may have written their theory over 70 years ago but the commentary is still reflective of society today. This is particularly apparent when applying the culture industry to the cultural commercialisation of Mickey Mouse, as monopoly media companies like Disney naturalised and standardise capitalist consumer habits through these heavily merchandised mascots. On contrary, the culture industry does present drawbacks when concerning the pessimistic context and the limited type of media that was around in the late 1940s. Yet, as Adorno and Horkheimer continue to be at the forefront of Media Studies discourse, I reaffirm that the culture industry continues to be a pragmatic approach to the role of media in society.

Miss Americana: The Supposed ‘Inside Look’ Pales in its Transparency to Many of Swift’s Albums Zodie Bolic This work was produced by Zodie Bolic for the subject ‘Introduction to Media Writing’. It discusses the artistic merit of Taylor Swift’s documentary (released in 2020), in comparison to her discography. When first announced, Miss Americana was poised to be one of the most intriguing documentaries of the modern day, not just in Netflix’s catalogue. Covering the life of pop princess Taylor Swift as she recorded her 7th album Lover, even a casual fan would be intrigued. It seemed a pleasing combination with Emmy award-winning Lana Wilson at is helm – the end result is less so. Miss Americana parades itself as a deep insight into the life of notoriously private Swift. The feature attempts to chart all of Swift’s career, despite the majority of filming occurring during 2018. The paradoxical nature of the film is captured best in its opening. Swift proudly displays her personal diaries to the camera for all to see; yet, we can’t, because they have been blurred out in post. What true documentarian, like Lana Wilson is, would hide an unfettered look into one of the biggest modern stars? It seems very clearly to be an order from Swift’s management. Throughout the film, it feels like anything slightly dark, or messy, or off-brand was left on the cutting room, and I doubt it was Wilson’s choice. Even so, her direction lacks emotional depth. Taylor Swift’s career is so very interesting – so this film should be as well. Watching a megastar deal with the critical failure of her supposed comeback should be filmmaking gold! Nonetheless, as Wilson re-treads iconic moments audiences have already seen play out or attempts to put a new spin on news already better covered by many media conglomerates, it is hard to feel invested.

There are moments of Miss Americana that highlight would could be. Moments when Swift is crying in her living room, after receiving the call from her agent that Reputation had zero Grammy nominations in any of the major categories. Emotional, she commits herself to ‘making a better record’, despite Reputation’s fiscal success. Moments when Swift’s father discusses his fears surrounding her lifestyle. His fears compounded when Swift decides to make her political views public. Moments where we can briefly glimpse the true Swift; without any brand management, or regard for Twitter. Unfortunately, these moments are brief, and all too quickly swept away, in a manner that seems to indicate the advice of a manager. Despite their small number, it’s these moments which drag the audience in, even if a viewer isn’t particularly concerned with Miss Swift’s discography. But, of course, when the next story sequence returns to Miss Americana’s insipid, climax-less norm, even a fan is likely to switch off. Compared to Swift’s albums, Miss Americana seems something of an anomaly. How can the songwriter whose work includes some of the most telling of the modern age (Dear John! Clean! All Too Well!) be so afraid to document her life in video – considering she’s already documented most of it in song? 1989 very clearly documented Swift’s relationship with One Direction’s Harry Styles. Awarded Album of the Year at the 58th Grammys, 1989 is a highly personal, intimate album.

Hell, even Reputation, for all its faults, is an inside look into Swift’s relationship with British actor Joe Alwyn that you would be unlikely to find anywhere else. The sleeper hit Delicate chronicles Swift’s nervousness over her new flame better than any diary, so it seems such a shock Miss Americana blurs Swift’s out. Miss Americana presents only mere glimpses into Swift’s life, but, more often than not, they are lost among the vapid, brand management that this film turns out to be. In any normal awards season, Miss Americana would be skipped over, though it’s clear the team at Netflix views it as a potential contender. It’s bland, skippable and pales in comparison to Wilson’s other work. But, in these ‘unprecedented times’, Miss Americana may end up with the odd Golden Globe nomination here or there, due to the lack of competition. However, take it from a true Swiftie. Unlike Swift’s other work, Miss Americana doesn’t deserve any accolades thrown its way. While its first half indicates promise, its latter half simple repeats a pro-Swift rhetoric that anyone from her team would likely spill. If an inside look at Swift’s life is what you’re seeking, go listen to her music. 1989, Reputation and Red all chart Swift’s life in better, more enjoyable ways. Say you’re itching for a film; ‘Shut Up and Sing’ tackles similar issues in a superior manner, following the Dixie Chicks’ banishment from American radio. For all its promise, Miss Americana fails to deliver. If you’re looking for something new from Swift in 2020, go listen to Folklore instead.

Ten Degrees Theo Viney

These are some photos from the VCA devised dance work in semester 1, made in collaboration with VCA production. The company was given an empty venue and told we had 8 weeks to create whatever we wanted. What we came up with was, ‘10 Degrees’. Artist's Description: No sense of sense here, in this collection of known but unfamiliar. Purpose disregarded, reimagined, tilted 10 degrees and complimented by an itch of the chin and a shift of the skull. I was the associate lighting designer on this show, and working on a devised process like this was a daunting task and something I had never done before. As well as the photos, I have included the lighting plan which I was responsible for drafting, as well as a small sample of the cue synopsis, created in collaboration between the lighting designer and myself. These are the two most important documents that a lighting designer produces. All photo credit goes to Gregory Lorenzutti.

SCAN HERE TO WATCH THE FULL PERFORMANCE

TEN DEGREES

VERSION: 1 22 June 2021

CUE N°

Document subject to change

CUE SYNOPSIS

CUE POINT

DESCRIPTION

Fade in Top light Entrance Flouro Soft Backlight House LX Sidelight George Tubes + truss warmers

5 dancers in Op front / projection fading out State 3

(Lighting replace the vision over the Wall FIX Focus dancers at the beginning of the phrase)

COLOUR

FADE In

Out

White + purple

1 10

Blue + White White

Side + front

+Projection white wall

15.5

With the video on the full wall

Movement become jolting

State 3 effect

Resume normal movement choreography

State 3

On Top light Soft Backlight Sidelight

0.5

1: Emily stops choreography

State 3.1

Off Take away : Sidelights or top lights

0.5

Resume normal movement choreography

State 3

On Top light Soft Backlight Sidelight

Effect Titans tubes

Intensity effect (A pulsing/ random

The Box

Add Open the space + more light State 3.2

Ella stops choreography

State 3.3

Change High sides

Resume normal movement choreography

State 3.2

Return state 3.2

2: Emily stops choreography

State 3.3

Off Take away : Sidelights or top lights (Not affecting trio)

Resume normal movement choreography

State 3

Return state 3.2

23.5

Door opens

State 3.4

On light behind the wall

3- Emily stops choreography

3.3

Off Take away : Sidelights or top lights

0.5

Resume normal movement choreography

State 3

On Top light Soft Backlight Sidelight

Pre- show

Snap

intensity 1 0 secs)

3 dancers move away of the group

SCENES

(Emily and Sarscha front lit/ trio

backlight)

+Projection white and black Purple + White

0.7

56 Document by Giovanna Yate Gonzalez

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Clickbait is captivating, catastrophic, and so much more Ophelia Mathers The following article contains discussion of sexual assault and violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Whilst the world, and Australia, move in and out of lockdowns, a binge-worthy yet sophisticated TV series can be hard to find. Clickbait, however, had me hooked from the opening scene. A family dinner that appeared perfect at first glance, quickly crumbles as the scene progresses. The characters of the Brewer family are introduced; the sister, Pia played by the fabulous Zoe Kazan, joins her brother Nick and his wife Sophie alongside their two sons at a dinner to celebrate the birthday of Pia and Nick’s mother. Straightaway audiences are introduced to the tense nature of the assembled characters in what should be a relaxing and enjoyable celebration - however Kazan’s character’s destructive and impulsive nature quickly results in Nick telling her to leave the house, stating ruthlessly that she can’t help but “destroy everything she touches,” a line that leaves viewers questioning the layers of this ‘picture-perfect’ family. The opening is only a premise of what is to come, as the next day Nick disappears, leaving both audiences and characters wondering what an earth happened. The entire first episode focuses on Pia, painted as an outcast from her mother and sisterin-law, yet always finding solace in her relationship with her brother, Nick - despite the disastrous dinner. When Pia arrives at work the next day, she happens to view the viral video of her beloved brother holding up a sign that reads: “I abuse women, at five million views, I die.” The true story of Clickbait emerges. The themes introduced across all eight limited episodes are horrifying yet ring true to society today. On watching the pilot episode, I curiously googled the meaning of clickbait and realised how often I fall down the same rabbit hole myself when I’m online. The definition of clickbait is; ‘a headline that encourages you to click on a link to an article, video or picture.’ In a nutshell, clickbait thrives of the curiosity of internet users, often taking them down a deep and dark internet search where the line between truth and lies becomes a blur. The only goal for clickbait is not to publicise the truth, but to grab the attention of the millions of people active on the internet every day. 57

The show takes the act of ‘clickbaiting’ on the internet to a whole new level. The constant need to be sharing things online, however detrimental they are to someone’s wellbeing, is shockingly accurate when it comes down to Nick’s fate resting on the amount of views his video will get. However, like any accusation, the sign Nick holding up prompts questions for all the characters, and viewers of the show - did they really know who Nick was? Did he live a secret life? But most importantly, were any of the claims true? Producer and creator of the show, Tony Aynes said he “always loved a good murder mystery” but Clickbait takes this to a new level by having each episode focusing on a new character with a different level of involvement in Nick’s disappearance. While watching the first episode, titled ‘The Sister’, focusing just on Pia’s character, I wondered if this style of filming would work, as I originally assumed the whole show would focus on Pia’s hunt for her brother, a premise that is familiar, but no doubt works for many murder mysteries. Refreshingly, Aynes takes viewers down a complicated chain of events, switching perspectives each episode to deepen the narrative and plot points to the viewer, so we are always left wondering who is responsible for the disappearance of Nick. The style is refreshing and captivating, and works brilliantly, leaving no room for confusion, only curiosity and at times, a sense of dread. Although the show holds an extremely serious and raw tone throughout, there are some wholesome and lighter moments that remind us of the importance of real relationships not focused on the internet. Watching the characters in Nicks family grow over the series is one of my favourite parts; Pia’s determination to find her brother is so desperately sincere and reminds us of the bonds that bring us closer together in times of need. Similarly, Sophie’s relationship with her sons is forced to strengthen as the truth and lies about the family are revealed over all eight episodes. The narrative structure makes it easy to overlook the small flaws in the films realism sector, but like other murder mystery on Netflix, I went into viewing Clickbait expecting these and more. The shows finale, episode eight; ‘The Answer’, had me on the edge of my seat from start to finish. What I thought I knew about the characters was reshaped; when I thought I had figured out the complex answer of Nick’s disappearance, I was wrong. In the last week I’ve told family and friends of mine around Australia to watch Clickbait, and like me, they are all hooked. It’s the kind of show that’s near impossible to pace and watch slowly, as each episode leaves you with more questions, demanding more answers, and becoming increasingly nervous as the show’s climax becomes apparent. Watch this show. I can promise you that you won’t be disappointed, and next time you fall down a dark rabbit-hole online, just remember you’re not the only one who’s watching.

National Gallery of Victoria: Bauhaus Exhibition Concept Mali Gordon

A series of posters made by Mali Gordon for her Colour Studio required a reinterpretation of an artwork (post 1917) currently held in the NGV. It features reinterpretations of Paul Klee’s ‘Lantern Festival Bauhaus’ and Gerrit Rietveld’s ‘Red Blue Chair’. These are promotional posters for a hypothetical NGV exhibition. Mali’s art can be viewed on Instagram via @maligordonart.

Victorian Rowhouse Redesign: Multigenerational Choi Hin Cheung jo

A study on how to modernize Victorian rowhouses by utilizing modern design philosophies without disturbing the local urban fabric. Aims to explore the possibilities for designing for a multigenerational household within a small space. House designed by Choi Hin Cheung jo

Insiders and Outsiders: Evaluating Positionalities in Qualitative Research Lachlan Pedley This is an essay written by Lachlan Pedley for ‘Critical Analytical Skills’, comparing the values and limitations of insider and outsider positions when undertaking qualitative research. A researcher that comes from a similar background and community to those being researched is known as an ‘insider’. ‘Outsider’ denotes a researcher who inquires from a perspective outside of the community being studied. Qualitative research aims to identify, investigate and understand social meanings and patterns through the analysis of phenomenon within a given context, (Walter, 2019, p.7). At the centre of this meaningmaking process is the researcher. As such, the social and cultural perspectives inhabited by researchers, commonly termed positionality, can often influence the research design as well as the collection and analysis of data. This essay intends to deconstruct the effects of positionality by evaluating the values and limitations of the insider approach to qualitative research. Ultimately, the conclusion will be reached that insider and outsider positionalities should be considered along a continuum, as it allows for a greater understanding of the social phenomenon under research, while also working to utilise the strengths associated with either standpoint. This essay begins by substantiating the centrality of the researcher and the importance of positionality in the meaning-making process of qualitative research. The notion of insider and outsider perspectives to the research domain will then be explained, emphasising the importance of reflexivity when considering one’s own predispositions. This essay will then engage in a discussion on the values and limitations of insider and outsider perspectives whilst drawing on two examples for greater contextualisation. The conclusion will then be made, that due to the limitations of a purely insider approach, qualitative research is best conducted with an approach that considers insider and outsider perspectives along a continuum.

Qualitative research is intrinsically involved in a process of meaning-making (Walter, 2019, p.20), with the researcher representing the tool with which social phenomenon are analysed. Herein lies an inherent dilemma of qualitative research. Sometimes described as a ‘tool’ of qualitative research (Porter, 2012, p.809), the researcher and their interpretations are central to the production of findings, and therefore, meanings. However, this mechanic is not without its challenges. For instance, the meanings behind a particular phenomenon “can assume multiple realities, depending on the perspective of an observer” (Yin, 2015, p.16). The implication here is that varying perceptions of the same phenomena can be derived from differing processes of thought that are informed by unique social, cultural, economic, or political factors. For the purpose of this essay, this idea is what will be used to define the term ‘positionality’. This assertion is supported by Maggie Walter, who suggests, “our social-cultural positioning – who we are socially, economically, culturally, even politically – underpins the questions we see, the answers we seek, the way we go about seeking those answers and the interpretation we make” (2019, p.14). Researchers of social science often utilise “pre-existing categories and schemas to analyse and report on their findings” (Olive, 2014, p.6), potentially developing a tendency towards selectivity, whether intentional or not, throughout the analysis of qualitative data (Yin, 2016, p.17). This implies that the researcher holds a large degree of agency in determining which phenomena hold significance, and even what constitutes as phenomena in the first place.

This dependence on the positionality of the researcher - their ‘reality’ - is one of the defining challenges of qualitative research. Conversely, however, the positionality of the researcher, whether insider or outsider, can bring value to qualitative research, particularly when this positionality is critically reflected upon throughout the research process. As described previously, qualitative research is inherently interested in the production of meaning. As such, and as Mason reinforces, the task of the qualitative researcher is not simply to describe social phenomenon, but rather to “produce explanations or arguments” (Mason, 2002, p.7). In fact, qualitative researchers, due to their reliance on interpretation, cannot be entirely neutral or objective in their descriptions (Mason, 2002, p.7). The influence of interpretation and perspective are, therefore, not only valuable to the production of meaning, but unavoidable within qualitative research. As such, the researcher’s ability to recognise, reflect upon and analyse their own positionality, whether insider or outsider, is a pivotal step in ensuring the quality of social research. This notion of active recognition of one’s own positionality and its effect on the research process is often termed ‘reflexivity’. Mason contends that a reflexive approach towards social research involves “thinking critically about what you are doing and why… and recognising the extent to which your thoughts, actions and decisions shape how you research and what you see” (2002, p.5). Having established discussion on the instrumental role of the researcher in qualitative research, the notion of multiple realities may be further unpacked through the investigation of insider and outsider perspectives. Although not representative of all positionalities, the insider and outsider dichotomy will form the scope of this essay. So what is meant by the insider position and what is its implications? Also referred to as the ‘emic’ perspective, the insider position suggests the researcher is involved in the social phenomenon under study. Insider researchers are generally those “who choose to study a group to which they belong” (Breen, 2007, p.163) and attempt to collate an emic perspective that captures “participants’ indigenous meanings of real-world events” (Yin, 2016, p.16). The emic position, therefore, is one closely associated with the shared views of cultural knowledge from the insider’s perspective (Fetterman, 2012, p.2).

As such, the insider positionality privileges a constructivist ontology, as this perspective approaches the analysis of social phenomenon as a co-construction between the researcher and the participants in the research (Breen, 2007, p.164). In other words, the insider perspective attempts to emphasise the social realities established from the perspective of participants. It is important, however, to acknowledge that a purely emic approach to qualitative research is not always the most beneficial perspective with which to analyse social phenomenon. As Olive suggests, the differences that can be accentuated by engaging with both insider and outsider approaches can prove fruitful to the quality and value of research (2014, p.5). As such, the outsider perspective and the benefits such an approach can provide will now be considered. In contrast to the insider position, the outsider, or etic perspective, approaches analysis of social phenomenon from a detached position. It represents the “external social scientific perspective on reality” (Fetterman, 2012, p.2). When conducting qualitative research from such a position, the researcher generally utilises preconceived categories to analyse social phenomenon unfamiliar to them. As Pike phrases it, “analyses from the etic standpoint are ‘alien’ in view, with criteria external to the system” (1967, p.38). As such, the findings drawn from research conducted from an etic perspective are often considered ‘absolute’ or more directly measurable (Pike, 1967, p.38). The outsider positionality, may therefore be considered more closely associated with a positivist epistemology, as such a perspective relies heavily upon scientific precedents, including “falsifiability, logical consistency, and replicability (Fetterman, 2012, p.2). In other words, the etic perspective explores social phenomenon with a higher degree of objectivity and with less contextual consideration. Herein lies the predicament that plagues the intersection between qualitative research and positionality. In many regards, the objective essence of the outsider positionality does not always adequately align with qualitative research and its emphasis on the importance of contextual analysis. Conversely, the emic perspective is often critiqued for the researcher’s limited detachment from the research domain (Kanuha, 2000, p.444), possibly limiting their objectivity and validity due to the greater potential with which to make assumptions of similarity and fail to adequately explain the meanings behind social phenomenon.

As such, and as this essay will emphasise, perhaps it is more beneficial for qualitative researchers to position themselves along the continuum that bridges insider and outsider perspectives, potentially mitigating the limitations of each while strengthening the validity of their research. To further the discussion on researcher positionalities, a couple of examples will now be drawn upon to provide a more contextualised analysis. The first example this essay will reference is an article written by Jenny Fleming, titled ‘Recognizing and resolving the challenges of being an insider researcher in workintegrated learning’. This article provides an analysis into the challenges of insider positionalities when a researcher undertakes a study of a work-integrated learning program to which they are involved in. Fleming, an academic in a university, was tasked with developing a curriculum which incorporated both study and work experience for students undertaking their final year of a degree (Fleming, 2018, p.316). As part of her own doctoral research project, Fleming analysed the practice of cooperative education at her own university (Fleming, 2018, p.317). Due to a vested interest in the success of a cooperative education program in which she had designed, Fleming understands her position to be that of an insider researcher (Fleming, 2018, p.316). This positionality presented a variety of challenges to the credibility and validity of her research. Holding a dual role as both an academic and a researcher within the same context of a cooperative education program, Fleming identified the potential for bias, meaning trustworthiness was a key element of her research design (Fleming, 2018, p.319). Similarly, this professional conflict also required her to be reflexive in considering her own preconceived ideas and desires for positive outcomes in regards to the work-integrated learning program she had designed (Fleming, 2018, p.318). Finally, holding the position of a senior academic within the university under study, meant Fleming had to be vigilant in recognising the potential for the “implicit coercion of participants”, as her superior positionality may have influenced the data collected throughout interviews (Fleming, 2018, p.317). Despite the limitations presented, Fleming goes on to conclude that if these challenges are addressed through a reflexive approach, credible research can still be achieved (Fleming, 2018, p.320).

A key aspect to derive from this case study is the need for researchers to acknowledge and confront the potential implications that an insider positionality brings. Kanuha reinforces the challenges to insider research positions highlighted by Fleming, by acknowledging the common critiques of such a position, namely, “questions about objectivity, reflexivity, and authenticity of a research project are raised because perhaps one knows too much or is too close to the project and may be too similar to those being studied” (2000, p.444) It is important, therefore, to recognise that a researcher can assume elements of either position throughout their research process. Breen is one such scholar that recognises this, as she challenges the insider and outsider dichotomy, branding it as “simplistic”, and rather suggests the distinction should be conceptualised along a continuum (2007, p.163). This idea is further analysed in the second example. The second example is an article written by Lauren Breen, titled ‘The researcher ‘in the middle’: Negotiating the insider/outsider dichotomy’. As part of her qualitative study into the experiences with grief resulting from crashes in Western Australia, Breen describes her positionality as neither an insider or an outsider to the research domain. The insider credentials of the researcher were acquired by her own personal experiences with the death of a sister-in-law in a crash, as well as familiarity with three informants to the study. As such, Breen refers to her own positionality as “neither an ‘insider’ in nor an ‘outsider’ to the research domain” (2007, p.167), leading her to conclude that the role of the researcher is better conceptualised on a continuum, rather than a dichotomy (2007, p.170). As part of her analysis, Breen goes on to evaluate the values and limitations of her own positionalities. As an insider to the research domain, Breen found particular value in the recruitment stages, suggesting “bereaved informants were keen to voice their experiences to someone who was willing to listen” (2007, p.167). As well as this, as an insider, Breen suggests she gained a greater ability to “identify the key players, power differentials, differences, and dynamics” that exist in the research domain (2007, p.171), which is likely a result of their prior experience with, and understanding of, the factors associated with the topic of crash fatalities.

Her insider perspective also had limitations on the research. As she explains, some people familiar with her personal experience questioned the credibility of her analysis, citing a potential unconscious bias. In response to questions regarding the credibility of her analysis, due to a potential bias resulting from her insider perspective, Breen suggests her positionality along the continuum, both engaged and external to the research domain, provided her with the benefits of an assumption of unbiased, independent objectivity associated with the outsider perspective (2007, p.171). In sum, Breen’s article reiterates the strength of the idea of the insider and outsider continuum. She contends that maintaining a positionality of neither an insider nor an outsider “maximised the advantages of each while minimising the potential disadvantages” (2007, p.171). In conclusion, this essay contends that an approach to qualitative research that embraces aspects of both etic and emic positions, that finds a place along the continuum, is most effective. This is supported by Agar’s proposition that both the etic and the emic are “both part of any understanding” (2011, p.39). This would convey that a qualitative analysis is both incomplete and vulnerable to critique when failing to consider both sides of the insider and outsider positionality spectrum. As this essay initially emphasised, however, the interpretivist nature of qualitative research means the researcher, central to the process of qualitative analysis, must be able to engage reflexively with whatever position along the insider and outsider continuum they assume.

Designing for Urban Animals Dan Parker

How can cities become places that support multispecies cohabitation? What can designers contribute to the endeavour of creating cities that support mutual flourishing of human and nonhuman animals? These are the question Dan’s PhD research seeks to address – but why do they even matter? The need to design cities in a way that supports multispecies cohabitation is increasingly urgent in the context of climate change, urbanisation, and mass species extinction. Human activities are contributing to a global extinction crisis. In Australia, more than 50 animal and 60 plant species have gone extinct since European colonisation. In Victoria, the destruction of over 65% of forests has put about a third of Victoria’s flora and fauna at risk of extinction. This devastation also has implications for human health, wellbeing, and economics. Still, there is hope to reverse these trends! Surprisingly, cities can play an important role in supporting many species, including threatened ones. Some 30% of all threatened Australian species already live in cities. However, cities also present species with several threats. These include land-clearing, light and noise pollution, and conflict with humans. Coming from a background in architecture, Dan is exploring how designers might repurpose computational tools to create more inclusive places for urban animals.

Dan has been focusing on how cities can support Australia’s largest owl, the powerful owl (Ninox strenua). These owls are threatened in southeastern Australia, largely due to urban and agricultural development. Powerful owls are becoming more common in cities, where there is an abundance of potential prey (one powerful owl eats up to 300 possums a year!). Sadly, the decline of large old trees means owls have few places to breed in cities. The tree hollows that powerful owls rely on for breeding take hundreds of years to form. Human-made structures like nest boxes have yet to successfully support powerful owls. In response, Dan has been designing and installing habitat structures in an attempt to help urban owls. The ‘prosthetic hollow’ designs draw inspiration from the habitat structures that owls have used for nesting: tree hollows and termite nests. To achieve designs that better suit the needs and preferences of owls, the project uses computational modelling techniques like 3D scanning and 3D printing. Dan is currently measuring the performance of these hollows while working on improving the design and materials. He has developed an online website where anyone can design and build their own customised habitat for a variety of local species. Feel free to get in touch with Dan if you want to know more about this research. Also to hear more, keep an eye out for the release of ABC Catalyst’s documentary on urban birds next year!

A Trip in the Rain Ophelia Mathers

The rain is falling as I run down to the garden a bed of coral glistening while I stand by in awe He stands on the balcony and I run up the stairs, closing the distance between us A shadow of safety- my person who I love, my heart and brain explodes He turns to look at me and I motion for him to follow, a surprise is down there I yell to him We run together to the garden in the sea the dog follows, frightened of how the lightening and rain crash down angrily We take each other’s hands To stare at the garden, the grass reaching out to touch us- alive; the only way I know how to describe my vision 67

We start to run, my footsteps slapping the path His footsteps following obediently The dog panting to keep up while a rain monster is eating us all My brain tells me to stop thinking as he points out the alien. The green little man sitting; a speck of glow in the dark Relax, he says to me I can’t, I say, my eyes not leaving the little man Just let it consume youThe dog watches peacefully from her bed Suddenly he kisses me and everything is gold, the alien turns into a frog like the fairy tale but reversed and I’m laughing out loud, his lips taste like the rain As I stare into his eyesblackened and mirroring my own

Modular Four: Frame vs. Field Thomas Loughlan

The following was created for Semester One Design requisite Foundations of Design: Representation, in which during the Fourth Module, students were tasked with redistributing the construstional elements of the Old Quad into a city described in an assigned written piece. Humanistic and scientific drawing techniques are produced to ascertain the possibility of suspending pure form and pure narrative.

Appropriation Amelia De Smet

Granja junto al lago oil on canvas board 20 x 25cm Translating to ‘Lakeside farm’ in Spanish, this is artwork is an appropriation of two artworks from the NGV - James Dickson Innes’ Collioure (1911) and Tristram Hillier’s Andalusian farm (1949) - for the subject Painting Techniques. Appropriation is an approach where artists deliberately copy images and present them in a new context.

Modular Typeface: ReMorse Type Emma Kelly

This typeface was created for the first brief in Graphic Design Studio One: Image and Text. Students were tasked with creating a typeface out of a set of shapes and elements that represented an alphabet or set of some sort. ReMorse Type was modelled after Morse Code, and uses three elements to create the overlay on the structure.

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Parkinson’s Disease and L-dopa Imogen Quilty Balestrino, R., & Schapira, A. (2019). Parkinson disease. European Journal Of Neurology, 27(1), 27-42. doi: 10.1111/ene.14108 Better Health Channel (2021). Parkinson’s disease. Better Health. Retrieved 19 April 2021, from https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/parkinsons-disease Crocker, A. (1997). The Regulation of Motor Control: An Evaluation of the Role of Dopamine Receptors in the Substantia Nigra. Reviews In The Neurosciences, 8(1). doi: 10.1515/revneuro.1997.8.1.55 Cure Parkinson’s. (2021). The science behind Parkinson’s. Retrieved 1 May 2021, from https://cureparkinsons.org.uk/what-is-parkinsons/the-science-behind-parkinsons/ DrugBank Online. (2021). Retrieved 2 May 2021, from https://go.drugbank.com/drugs/DB01235 Gandhi, K., & Saadabadi, A. (2020). Levodopa (L-Dopa). Statpearls Publishing. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK482140/ Levodopa. (2021). Retrieved 2 May 2021, from https://www.parkinson.org/UnderstandingParkinsons/Treatment/Prescription-Medications/Levodopa Mishra, A., Singh, S., & Shukla, S. (2018). Physiological and Functional Basis of Dopamine Receptors and Their Rolein Neurogenesis: Possible Implication for Parkinson’s disease. Journal Of Experimental Neuroscience, 12, 117906951877982. doi: 10.1177/1179069518779829 National Center for Biotechnology Information (2021). PubChem Compound Summary for CID 6047, Levodopa. Retrieved May 1, 2021 from https://pubchem.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/compound/Levodopa Puris, E., Gynther, M., Auriola, S., & Huttunen, K. (2020). L-Type amino acid transporter 1 as a target for drug delivery. Pharmaceutical Research, 37(5). doi: 10.1007/s11095-020-02826-8 Sanjay Pandey, P. (2017). Levodopa-induced Dyskinesia: Clinical Features, Pathophysiology, and Medical Management. Annals Of Indian Academy Of Neurology, 20(3), 190. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5586110/ Sujith Ovallath, B. (2017). Levodopa: History and Therapeutic Applications. Annals Of Indian Academy Of Neurology, 20(3), 185. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5586109/ The ADHD Treatment Guide (2010, January 10). Does tyrosine for ADHD actually work as a supplementation strategy? (part 4). [online image]. ADHD Treatments. Retrieved 2 May 2021, from http://adhd-treatmentoptions.blogspot.com/2010/02/does-tyrosine-for-adhd-actually-work-a.html Triarhou, L. (2013). Dopamine and Parkinson’s Disease. Landes Bioscience. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK6271/

References (continued) The Association Between High Blood Pressure and Changes in Human Gut Microbial Metabolic Pathways Michael Nakai Hufnagl, K., I. Pali-Schöll, F. Roth-Walter and E. Jensen-Jarolim (2020). “Dysbiosis of the gut and lung microbiome has a role in asthma.” Seminars in Immunopathology 42(1): 75-93. Kaye, D. M., W. A. Shihata, H. A. Jama, K. Tsyganov, M. Ziemann, H. Kiriazis, D. Horlock, A. Vijay, B. Giam, A. Vinh, C. Johnson, A. Fiedler, D. Donner, M. Snelson, M. T. Coughlan, S. Phillips, X.-J. Du, A. El-Osta, G. Drummond, G. W. Lambert, T. D. Spector, A. M. Valdes, C. R. Mackay and F. Z. Marques (2020). “Deficiency of Prebiotic Fiber and Insufficient Signaling Through Gut Metabolite-Sensing Receptors Leads to Cardiovascular Disease.” Circulation 141(17): 1393-1403. Marques, F. Z., E. Nelson, P. Y. Chu, D. Horlock, A. Fiedler, M. Ziemann, J. K. Tan, S. Kuruppu, N. W. Rajapakse, A. El-Osta, C. R. Mackay and D. M. Kaye (2017). “High-Fiber Diet and Acetate Supplementation Change the Gut Microbiota and Prevent the Development of Hypertension and Heart Failure in Hypertensive Mice.” Circulation 135(10): 964-977. Nakai, M., R. V. Ribeiro, B. R. Stevens, P. Gill, R. R. Muralitharan, S. Yiallourou, J. Muir, M. Carrington, G. A. Head, D. M. Kaye and F. Z. Marques (2021). “Essential Hypertension Is Associated With Changes in Gut Microbial Metabolic Pathways: A Multisite Analysis of Ambulatory Blood Pressure.” Hypertension 78(3): 804815. Zitvogel, L., L. Galluzzi, S. Viaud, M. Vétizou, R. Daillère, M. Merad and G. Kroemer (2015). “Cancer and the gut microbiota: an unexpected link.” Sci Transl Med 7(271): 271ps271. Below is the full credit for Michael’s paper: Nakai, M., R. V. Ribeiro, B. R. Stevens, P. Gill, R. R. Muralitharan, S. Yiallourou, J. Muir, M. Carrington, G. A. Head, D. M. Kaye and F. Z. Marques (2021). “Essential Hypertension Is Associated With Changes in Gut Microbial Metabolic Pathways: A Multisite Analysis of Ambulatory Blood Pressure.” Hypertension 78(3): 804815.

Botulinum Toxin A as an Adjunct to Retromuscular Repair of Large Ventral Hernias Luke Foley 1. Muysoms FE, Miserez M, Berrevoet F, Campanelli G, Champault GG, Chelala E, et al. Classification of primary and incisional abdominal wall hernias. Hernia. 2009;13(4):407-14. 2. Deerenberg EB, Timmermans L, Hogerzeil DP, Slieker JC, Eilers PHC, Jeekel J, et al. A systematic review of the surgical treatment of large incisional hernia. Hernia. 2015;19(1):89-101. 3. Deerenberg EB, Elhage SA, Raible RJ, Shao JM, Augenstein VA, Heniford BT, et al. Image-guided botulinum toxin injection in the lateral abdominal wall prior to abdominal wall reconstruction surgery: review of techniques and results. Skeletal Radiology. 2020;04:04. 4. Catalan-Garza V, Pena-Soria MJ, Saez-Carlin P, Cabeza-Gomez JJ, Garcia-Fernandez A, Torres-Garcia AJ. Long-term results of botulinum toxin type A in complex abdominal wall repair and review of the literature. Updates in Surgery. 2020;07:07. 5. Weissler JM, Lanni MA, Tecce MG, Carney MJ, Shubinets V, Fischer JP. Chemical component separation: a systematic review and meta-analysis of botulinum toxin for management of ventral hernia. Journal of Plastic Surgery and Hand Surgery. 2017;51(5):366-74. 6. Soltanizadeh S, Helgstrand F, Jorgensen LN. Botulinum Toxin A as an Adjunct to Abdominal Wall Reconstruction for Incisional Hernia. Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery - Global Open. 2017;5(6):e1358. 7. Rodriguez-Acevedo O, Elstner KE, Jacombs ASW, Read JW, Martins RT, Arduini F, et al. Preoperative Botulinum toxin A enabling defect closure and laparoscopic repair of complex ventral hernia. Surgical Endoscopy. 2018;32(2):831-9. 8. Bueno-Lledó J, Martinez-Hoed J, Torregrosa-Gallud A, Menéndez-Jiménez M, Pous-Serrano S. Botulinum toxin to avoid component separation in midline large hernias. Surgery. 2020. 9. Motz BM, Schlosser KA, Heniford BT. Chemical Components Separation: Concepts, Evidence, and Outcomes. Plast Reconstr Surg. 2018;142(3 Suppl):58s-63s. 10. Yurtkap Y, van Rooijen MMJ, Roels S, Bosmans JML, Uyttebroek O, Lange JF, et al. Implementing preoperative Botulinum toxin A and progressive pneumoperitoneum through the use of an algorithm in giant ventral hernia repair. Hernia. 2020;03:03. 11. Elstner KE, Read JW, Saunders J, Cosman PH, Rodriguez-Acevedo O, Jacombs ASW, et al. Selective muscle botulinum toxin A component paralysis in complex ventral hernia repair. Hernia. 2020;24(2):287-93. 12. Chan DL, Ravindran P, Fan HS, Elstner KE, Jacombs ASW, Ibrahim N, et al. Minimally invasive Venetian blinds ventral hernia repair with botulinum toxin chemical component separation. ANZ Journal of Surgery. 2020;90(1-2):67-71. 13. Bueno-Lledo J, Carreno-Saenz O, Torregrosa-Gallud A, Pous-Serrano S. Preoperative Botulinum Toxin and Progressive Pneumoperitoneum in Loss of Domain Hernias-Our First 100 Cases. Frontiers in Surgery. 2020;7:3. 14. Bueno Lledo J, Torregrosa-Gallud A. Preoperative Botulinum Toxin and Progressive Pneumoperitoneum Are Useful in the Treatment of Large Incisional Hernias. American Surgeon. 2019;85(4):e189-e92.

References (continued) Botulinum Toxin A as an Adjunct to Retromuscular Repair of Large Ventral Hernias Luke Foley (continued) 15. Bueno-Lledó J, Torregrosa A, Jiménez R, Pastor PG. Preoperative combination of progressive pneumoperitoneum and botulinum toxin type A in patients with loss of domain hernia. Surgical Endoscopy. 2018;32(8):3599-608. 16. Elstner KE, Read JW, Rodriguez-Acevedo O, Ho-Shon K, Magnussen J, Ibrahim N. Preoperative progressive pneumoperitoneum complementing chemical component relaxation in complex ventral hernia repair. Surgical Endoscopy. 2017;31(4):1914-22. 17. Elstner KE, Read JW, Rodriguez-Acevedo O, Cosman PH, Dardano AN, Jacombs ASW, et al. Preoperative chemical component relaxation using Botulinum toxin A: enabling laparoscopic repair of complex ventral hernia. Surgical Endoscopy. 2017;31(2):761-8. 18. Bueno-Lledó J, Torregrosa Gallud A, Jiménez Rosellón R, Carbonell Tatay F, García Pastor P, Bonafé Diana S, et al. Preoperative preparation of «loss of domain» hernia. Progressive pneumoperitoneum and botulinum toxin type A. Cir Esp. 2017;95(5):245-53. 19. Bueno-Lledó J, Torregrosa A, Ballester N, Carreño O, Carbonell F, Pastor PG, et al. Preoperative progressive pneumoperitoneum and botulinum toxin type A in patients with large incisional hernia. Hernia. 2017;21(2):23343. 20. Elstner KE, Jacombs AS, Read JW, Rodriguez O, Edye M, Cosman PH, et al. Laparoscopic repair of complex ventral hernia facilitated by pre-operative chemical component relaxation using Botulinum Toxin A. Hernia. 2016;20(2):209-19. 21. Ibarra-Hurtado TR, Nuño-Guzmán CM, Echeagaray-Herrera JE, Robles-Vélez E, de Jesús González-Jaime J. Use of Botulinum Toxin Type A Before Abdominal Wall Hernia Reconstruction. World Journal of Surgery. 2009;33(12):2553-6. 22. Slater N, Montgomery A, Berrevoet F, Carbonell A, Chang A, Franklin M, et al. Criteria for definition of a complex abdominal wall hernia. Hernia. 2014;18(1):7-17. 23. Nielsen M, Bjerg J, Dorfelt A, Jørgensen LN, Jensen KK. Short-term safety of preoperative administration of botulinum toxin A for the treatment of large ventral hernia with loss of domain. Hernia. 2020;24(2):295-9. 24. Radu VG. Retromuscular Approach in Ventral Hernia Repair - Endoscopic Rives-Stoppa Procedure. Chirurgia (Bucur). 2019;114(1):109-14. 25. Muse TO, Zwischenberger BA, Miller MT, Borman DA, Davenport DL, Roth JS. Outcomes after Ventral Hernia Repair Using the Rives-Stoppa, Endoscopic, and Open Component Separation Techniques. The American surgeon. 2018;84(3):433-7.

Maternal SMCHD1 Regulation of Hox Gene Expression and Patterning in the Mouse Embryo Natalia Benetti BLEWITT, M. E., GENDREL, A. V., PANG, Z., SPARROW, D. B., WHITELAW, N., CRAIG, J. M., APEDAILE, A., HILTON, D. J., DUNWOODIE, S. L., BROCKDORFF, N., KAY, G. F. & WHITELAW, E. 2008. SmcHD1, containing a structural-maintenance-of-chromosomes hinge domain, has a critical role in X inactivation. Nat Genet, 40, 663-9. BLEWITT, M. E., VICKARYOUS, N. K., HEMLEY, S. J., ASHE, A., BRUXNER, T. J., PREIS, J. I., ARKELL, R. & WHITELAW, E. 2005. An N-ethyl-N-nitrosourea screen for genes involved in variegation in the mouse. Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A, 102, 7629-34. JANSZ, N., CHEN, K., MURPHY, J. M. & BLEWITT, M. E. 2017. The Epigenetic Regulator SMCHD1 in Development and Disease. Trends Genet, 33, 233-243. JANSZ, N., KENIRY, A., TRUSSART, M., BILDSOE, H., BECK, T., TONKS, I. D., MOULD, A. W., HICKEY, P., BRESLIN, K., IMINITOFF, M., RITCHIE, M. E., MCGLINN, E., KAY, G. F., MURPHY, J. M. & BLEWITT, M. E. 2018. Smchd1 regulates long-range chromatin interactions on the inactive X chromosome and at Hox clusters. Nat Struct Mol Biol, 25, 766-777. KIM, K. H. & LEE, K. A. 2014. Maternal effect genes: Findings and effects on mouse embryo development. Clin Exp Reprod Med, 41, 47-61. LEWIS, E. B. 1978. A gene complex controlling segmentation in Drosophila. Nature, 276, 565-70. LI, E. 2002. Chromatin modification and epigenetic reprogramming in mammalian development. Nat Rev Genet, 3, 662-73. MALLO, M., WELLIK, D. M. & DESCHAMPS, J. 2010. Hox genes and regional patterning of the vertebrate body plan. Dev Biol, 344, 7-15. SCHULZ, K. N. & HARRISON, M. M. 2019. Mechanisms regulating zygotic genome activation. Nature Reviews Genetics, 20, 221-234. WANIGASURIYA, I., GOUIL, Q., KINKEL, S. A., TAPIA DEL FIERRO, A., BECK, T., ROPER, E. A., BRESLIN, K., STRINGER, J., HUTT, K., LEE, H. J., KENIRY, A., RITCHIE, M. E. & BLEWITT, M. E. 2020. Smchd1 is a maternal effect gene required for genomic imprinting. Elife, 9. Below is the full credit for Natalia’s paper: Benetti, N., Q. Gouil, A. Tapia del Fierro, T. Beck, K. Breslin, A. Keniry, E. McGlinn and M. E. Blewitt. “Maternal SMCHD1 regulates Hox gene expression and patterning in the mouse embryo.” bioRxiv (2021): 2021.09.08.459528. https://dx.doi.org/10.1101/2021.09.08.459528.

References (continued) Critical Analysis of the “Culture Industry” Alanah Hardy Adorno, T., & Horkheimer, M. (2007). The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as mass deception. In S. During (Ed.), The Cultural Studies Reader (3rd ed., pp. 31–41). Routledge. Suddath, C. (2008, November 8). A Brief History of Mickey Mouse. Time. Retrieved from <http://content.time. com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1859935,00.html> Miss Americana: The Supposed ‘Inside Look’ Pales in its Transparency to Many of Swift’s Albums Zodie Bolic After Tiller. (n.d.) Retrieved from https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/after_tiller_2013. Dixie Chicks – Shut Up and Sing. (n.d.) Retrieved from https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/dixie_chicks_shut_ up_and_sing. Fletcher, H. (2020). London’s Prince Charles cinema to screen Taylor Swift’s new documentary Miss Americana. Retrieved from https://www.standard.co.uk/go/london/film/taylor-swift-miss-americana-one-london-cinemaa4342626.html. Hodak, B. (2018). ‘Reputation’ Just Surpassed 2 Million In Sales: Here’s The Bad News For Taylor Swift. Retrieved from https://www.forbes.com/sites/brittanyhodak/2018/03/23/reputation-just-surpassed-2million-in-sales-heres-the-bad-news-for-taylor-swift/#3d9f5a9a15fc. Joe Alwyn. (n.d.) Retrieved from https://www.imdb.com/name/nm7153679/. Lana Wilson. (n.d.) Retrieved from http://lanawilson.net. Lynch, J. (2016). Taylor Swift Joins Elite Club to Win Grammy Album of the Year More Than Once: See the Rest. Retrieved from http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/grammys/6882510/taylor-swiftgrammy-album-of-the-year-win-multiple. Spanos, B. (2018). Taylor Swift’s ‘Reputation’ Is Grammys’ Biggest Snub. Retrieved from https://www. rollingstone.com/music/music-news/taylor-swift-reputation-grammys-snub-764008/. Swift, T. (2010). Dear John [Recorded by Taylor Swift]. On Speak Now [CD]. Nashville, Tennessee: Big Machine Records. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tq1m0vU-m4. Swift, T. & Heap, I. (2014). Clean [Recorded by Taylor Swift]. On 1989 [CD]. Nashville, Tennessee: Big Machine Records. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GL-HyvAjbFw. Swift, T. & Rose, L. (2012). All Too Well [Recorded by Taylor Swift]. On Red [CD]. Nashville, Tennessee: Big Machine Records. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8Jxo15Vfic.

Clickbait is captivating, catastrophic, and so much more Ophelia Mathers Bucksbaum, S. (2021). “Clickbait” creator reveals Netflix thriller is based on real cybercrime cases. [online] EW.com. Available at: https://ew.com/tv/clickbait-creator-tony-ayres-interview/ [Accessed 3 Sep. 2021]. Clickbait, (2021). Netflix. 25 Aug. GCF global (n.d.). The Now: What is Clickbait? [online] GCFGlobal.org. Available at: https://edu.gcfglobal. org/en/thenow/what-is-clickbait/1/. Insiders and Outsiders: Evaluating Positionalities in Qualitative Research Lachlan Pedley Agar, M 2011, ‘Making sense of one other for another: Ethnography as translation’, Language and Communication, vol. 31, no. 1, pp. 38-47. Breen, LJ 2007, ‘The researcher ‘in the middle’: Negotiating the insider/outsider dichotomy’, The Australian Community Psychologist, vol. 19, no. 1, pp. 163-174. Fetterman, DM 2012, ‘Emic/Etic Distinction’, in LM Given (ed.), The SAGE Encyclopedia of Qualitative Research Methods, SAGE Publications, Thousand Oaks, California, pp. 249-250. Fleming, J 2018, ‘Recognising and Resolving the challenges of being an insider researcher in work-integrated learning’, International Journal of Work-Integrated Learning, vol. 19, no. 3, pp. 311-320. Kanuha, VK 2000, ‘‘Being’ native versus ‘going native’: conducting social work research as an insider’, Social Work, vol. 45, no. 5, pp.439-447. Mason, J 2002, Qualitative Researching, SAGE Publications, Thousand Oaks, California. Olive, JL 2014, ‘Reflecting on the Tensions Between Emic and Etic Perspectives in Life History Research: Lessons Learned’, Forum: Qualitative Social Research, vol. 15, no. 2, pp. 1-14. Pike, KL 1967, Language in Relation to Unified Theory of Human Behaviour, Mouton, The Hague. Porter, M 2012, ‘Researcher as a Research Tool’, in AJ Mills, G Durepos & E Wiebe (eds.), Encyclopedia of Case Study Research, SAGE Publications, Thousand Oaks, California, pp. 809-810. Walter, M 2019, ‘The Nature of Social Research’, in M Walter (ed.), Social Research Methods: 4th Edition, Oxford University Press, pp. 3-28. Yin, RK 2015, ‘What is Qualitative Research – and Why Might You Consider Doing Such Resaearch?’, in RK Yin (ed.), Qualitative Research from Start to Finish, Guildford Publications, New York, pp. 3-26.

ST HILDA’S COLLEGE

The University of Melbourne 19-25 College Crescent Parkville, Victoria 3052