An unprecedented US presidential election, in more ways than one

It’s the eve of the US presidential election, which both sides are arguing will determine the country’s (and by extension, the world’s) trajectory for the foreseeable future. More than that, both sides are contending that if they fail, it will be dire for the entire nation. Basically, they’re arguing that the very soul of the nation is dependent on the outcome. So I’m writing this before I know the result.

In some respects, what’s happening in the US mirrors what’s happening in many Western nations, only, in the US, it’s more extreme. This is a case where emotion overrules rationality, and some would say it’s a litmus test for rationality versus irrationality, to which I would concur.

If one looks at just one aspect of this race, which, in fact, should determine the outcome because, like the presidential election itself, is unprecedented in recent history (literally the past 100 years): I’m talking about the coronavirus or COVID-19. In its third wave, the US broke the daily record for new cases just recently (for the entire world, I believe). My point is that America’s COVID-19 record highlights the irrational side of American politics – in fact, it’s a direct consequence of said irrationality.

I’ve made the point before, because I’ve witnessed it so often, that in an us-them situation or ingroup-outgroup (to use psychology-speak), highly intelligent people often become irrational, and partisan politics is the perfect crucible for ingroup-outgroup mentality.

Anthony Fauci, the Director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, in a recent interview compared what’s happened in America with Melbourne, Australia’s response to its second wave (which is where I happen to live). To quote The Guardian:

America’s top infectious diseases expert, Dr Anthony Fauci, has praised Melbourne’s response to the coronavirus, saying he “wished” the US could adopt the same mentality.

The major difference is that the pandemic was not politicised like it was in the US, or at least, not nearly to the same degree. There have been some people on the fringe who protested against the lockdown but they gained little sympathy from the mainstream media, the general public or politicians (on either side). In Australia, medical expertise and medical advice was generally accepted with little dissent.

From my external viewpoint, based on what I’ve seen and read, Donald Trump’s ‘base’ includes fringe groups like QAnon, white supremacists and conspiracy theorists of many stripes, but especially conspiracies concerning the ‘deep state’, many of which Trump initiated himself during his incumbency.

I’m one of those who believes that the US was divided before Trump took office, which means the divisions started and were exacerbated during Obama’s terms, especially his second term, when a divided Senate effectively stonewalled any of his proposals. Trump is a symptom of the US’s division, not its cause. But Trump has exploited that division better than anyone before him and continues to do so. Whoever wins this election, the division will remain, and healing America will be a formidable and potentially impossible task for the next incumbent.

Postscript, 8 Nov 2020: The election result is now known, or at least been given by reliable media outlets in the US, although Trump has declared he will challenge the results in some of the so-called battleground states in the courts. It’s part of Trump’s modus operandi, that he’s transferred from the corporate world, that anything and everything can be overcome if you have enough lawyers on your side. It should be pointed out that the result is not officially given until the ‘electoral college’ meets on Dec.,14.

Apparently, there was the highest voter turnout since 1900; that means for both sides of politics. It indicates how deeply and passionately divided the US is. I would just like to make a point that no one else (to my knowledge) has made. In the week of the election, the daily record for new cases of COVID-19 was broken twice. That so many Americans voted for Trump, in the light of his gross mismanagement of the pandemic, indicates the enormous proportion of the population who don’t take the coronavirus seriously; especially, when one looks at the response in other countries. 

Trump’s former political strategist and advisor, Steve Bannon, in a YouTube video, made the extraordinary rhetorical demand that the heads of Dr Anthony Fauci and FBI director Christopher Wray be put on pikes outside the White House. Not surprisingly, YouTube took the video down. Only in a democracy like America, could someone make such an incendiary comment without being put in jail. But it highlights the perverse logic of Trump supporters that they hold the only credible scientist in the Administration responsible for the carnage caused by the pandemic. As I said, the election was, at least partly, a litmus test for rationality versus irrationality.

Does history progress? If so, to what?

This is another Question of the Month from Philosophy Now. The last two I submitted weren’t published, but I really don’t mind as the answers they did publish were generally better than mine. Normally, with a question like this, you know what you want to say before you start. In other words, you know what your conclusion is. But, in this case, I had no idea.

 

At first, I wasn’t going to answer, because I thought the question was a bit obtuse. However, I couldn’t help myself. I started by analysing the question and then just followed the logic.

 

 

I found a dissonance to this question, because ‘history’, by definition, is about the past and ‘progress’ infers projection into the future. In fact, a dictionary definition of history tells us it’s “the study of past events, particularly in human affairs”. And a dictionary definition of progress is “forward or onward movement to a destination”. If one puts the two together, there is an inference that history has a ‘destination’, which is also implicit in the question.

 

I’ve never studied history per se, but if one studies the evolution of ideas in any field, be it science, philosophy, arts, literature or music, one can’t fail to confront the history of human ideas, in all their scope and diversity, and all the richness that has arisen out of that, imbued in culture as well as the material and social consequences of civilisations.

 

There are two questions, one dependent on the other, so we need to address the first one first. If one uses metrics like health, wealth, living conditions, peace, then there appears to be progress over the long term. But if one looks closer, this progress is uneven, even unequal, and one wonders if the future will be even more unequal than the present, as technologies become more available and affordable to some societies than others.

 

Progress infers change, and the 20^th Century saw more change than in the entire previous history of humankind. I expect the 21^st Century will see more change still, which, like the 20^th Century, will be largely unpredictable. This leads to the second question, which I’ll rephrase to make more germane to my discussion: what is the ‘destination’ and do we have control over it?

 

Humans, both as individuals and collectives, like to believe that they control their destiny. I would argue that, collectively, we are currently at a cross roads, which is evidenced by the political polarisation we see everywhere in the Western world.

 

But this cross roads has social and material consequences for the future. It’s epitomised by the debate over climate change, which is a litmus test for whether we control our destiny or not. It not only requires political will, but the consensus of a global community, and not just the scientific community. If we do nothing, it will paradoxically have a bigger impact than taking action. But there is hope: the emerging generation appears more predisposed than the current one.

Is liberalism under siege?

Like most so-called liberal-minded individuals, I read liberal-minded media, like The New Yorker, but I also acquire The Weekend Australian, religiously, every weekend (a Murdoch broadsheet newspaper). Like most weekend tabloids, it has ‘sections’ and pull-out segments, including a Weekend Australian Magazine and Weekend Australian Review. These pull-out segments often include profiles of people from all walks of life, coverage of arts and culture, as well as commentaries on topical issues.

There is a curious dichotomy in that the main body of the paper has opinion pieces that are predominantly and overtly conservative, whereas the ‘pull-out’ sections (mentioned above) have far more liberal content. Having said that, this weekend, there was virtually a full-page article called Voice, Treaty, Truth: Heart, which was an extract from a book called Treaty by George Williams and Harry Hobbs (who are, respectively, Dean and lecturer in the faculty of law at the University of NSW). It gives a potted history of the treaty process in Australia for indigenous people, with well written arguments on why it’s a necessary process for all Australians. The idea has long been opposed by conservative voices in Australia, so it says a lot that it finds expression in a conservative newspaper.

I only reference the article to give contrast to other feature articles dealing with the current ‘black lives matter’ crisis occurring in the US and spilling over into Australia on the same weekend. In particular, 3 opinion pieces by Paul Kelly (Editor at Large), Greg Sheridan (Foreign Editor) and Chris Kenny (Associate Editor) that provide different yet distinctly conservative views on the divisive issue. None of them are apologists for Trump, yet Sheridan and Kenny, in particular, are critical, to the point of ridicule, of the backlash against Trump, and downplay the racial schism that has become a running sore over the past week.

But I wish to focus on Paul Kelly’s commentary, The Uncivil War Killing Liberalism, because his arguments are more measured and he takes a much wider view. Kelly has been critical of Trump in the past – in particular, his incompetent handling of the COVID-19 pandemic right from the outset.

Kelly effectively argues that liberalism is under attack from both sides, with the political desertion of the ‘centre’ all over the Western world. I’ve made the same point myself, but, even though I’d guess we’re of a similar vintage, we have different perspectives and biases.

Kelly provides a broad definition, which I’ll quote out of context:

...liberalism means equality before the law regardless of race, equal access to health care and education on the principle of universalism.

This is an ideal that is far from fulfilled in virtually every democracy in the modern world, and is manifest in faultlines, particularly in the US, which is the main focus of Kelly’s essay. He more or less says as much in the next paragraph:

Yet the US today is engulfed in a series of social crises, with life expectancy falling for three successive years since 2015.

Kelly sees Trump as a symptom, or a ‘product’ of a ‘decline into cultural decadence’ (quoting conservative New York Times journalist, Ross Douthat, from his book, The Decadent Society). Kelly clearly agrees with Douthat when he quotes him: Trump exploits the decline of liberalism while being an agent of that decline.

But, like many conservative commentators, Kelly lays at least part of the blame with what he and others call ‘the Elites’. He quotes another American author, Christopher Lasch, from his 1995 book, The Revolt of the Elites:

The new elites are in revolt against ‘Middle America’ as they imagine it: a nation technologically backward, politically reactionary, repressive in its sexual morality, middlebrow in its tastes and complacent, dull and dowdy.

There is a social dynamic occurring here that I have seen before, and so I believe has Kelly. I’m thinking of the 1960s when there was a revolt against postwar conservative values that was arguably augmented by the introduction of oral contraception. It included a rejection of the dominance of the Church in both legislative and family politics, as well as shifts in feminist politics, the effects of which are still being experienced a couple of generations later. Were the ‘radicals’ advocating those ideals the ‘elites’ of their generation?

One of the major differences between American and Australian cultures is obvious to Australians and a surprise to many Americans. In Australia, religious belief is rarely an issue, and certainly not in politics. This wasn’t always the case. When I was growing up there was a divide between protestants and Catholics that even affected the small country town where I lived and was educated. The dissolution of that division was one of the more providential casualties of the 1960s. These days, most Australians are apathetic about religion, which renders it mostly a non-issue.

The reason I raise this is because militant atheism is most aggressive in countries where fundamentalist religion is most political (like the US). In other words, when you get extreme views becoming mainstream, you will get a reaction from the polar opposite extreme. And this is what is happening in politics pretty well worldwide.

So Kelly is right when he contends that Trump is the manifestation of a reaction to left wing ideologies, but he leaves a lot out. If one goes back to the ‘definition’ of liberalism, scribed by Kelly himself, the word ‘equality’ tends to stick in one’s craw. Inequality is arguably the biggest issue in the US which has been exacerbated by recent events. Even in the pandemic, which one assumes is indiscriminate, Black deaths have outnumbered Whites, which suggests that health care is not equitable.

It would seem that people (well, conservative political commentators at least) have already forgotten both the cause and the consequences of the GFC. The GFC hit middle America hard and it is their hardship that Trump exploited. So, the so-called ‘decadence of liberalism’ is a straw man that hides the discontent caused by the sheer greed of the people whom Trump and his ‘Tea Party’ allies really represent.

Kelly argues that ‘aggressive progressivism’ is one, if not ‘the’ cause of the ‘assault on liberalism’, to use his own words. He doesn’t say, but one assumes by ‘aggressive progressivism’, he’s talking about the strong push for renewable energy sources in response to what he calls ‘climate change alarmists’. Curiously, it’s been reported in the last week that industry leaders (you know, the ones who vote for conservative governments) are pushing for more investment in renewable resources. So we have industry groups attempting to lead the (conservative) Australian government, following the paralysis of the last decade by consecutive governments on both sides.

Kelly also argues that ‘individualism’ is one of the factors, along with ‘multiculturalism’, which he denigrates. In Australia, I’ve witnessed at least 3 waves of immigration, all of which have brought out the best and the worst in people. But generally people have got along fine because we tend to live and let live. As long as people from all backgrounds have the same access to health care and education and job opportunities, then there is very little societal dislocation that the xenophobes warn us about. There is inequality, especially among indigenous Australians, and I think that is why the recent protests in America have resonated here. Equality, I believe, starts with education. There is an elitism around education here and it is a political minefield. But the ideals of liberalism, expressed so succinctly by Kelly, surely start with education.

If one takes a broad historical perspective, it’s generally the ideas and ideals of people on the Left of politics that develop into social norms, even for conservatives of later generations. This is arguably how liberalism has evolved and will continue to evolve. Importantly, it’s dynamic, not static.

How do we understand each other?

This is the latest Question of the Month from Philosophy Now (Issue 137 April/May 2020), so answers will appear in Issue 139 (Aug/Sep 2020). It just occurred to me that I may have misread the question and the question I've answered is: How CAN we understand each other? Whatever, it's still worthy of a post, and below is what I wrote: definitely philosophical with psychological underpinnings and political overtones. There’s a thinly veiled reference to my not-so-recent post on Plato, and the conclusion was unexpected.

This is possibly the most difficult question I’ve encountered on Question of the Month, and I’m not sure I have the answer. If there is one characteristic that defines humans, it’s that we are tribal to the extent that it can define us. In almost every facet of our lives we create ingroups and outgroups, and it starts in childhood. If one watches the so-called debates that occur in parliament (at least in Australia) it can remind one of their childhood experiences at school. In current political discourse, if someone proposes an action or a policy, it is reflexively countered by the opposition, irrespective of its merit.

But I’ve also observed this is in the workplace, working on complex engineering projects, where contractual relationships can create similar divisions; where differences of opinion and perspective can escalate to irrational opposition that invariably leads to paralysis.

We’ve observed worldwide (at least in the West) divisions becoming stronger, reinforced by social media that is increasingly being used as a political weapon. We have situations where groups holding extreme yet strongly opposing views will both resist and subvert a compromise position proposed by the middle, which logically results in stalemate.

Staying with Australia (where I’ve lived since birth), we observed this stalemate in energy policy for over a decade. Every time a compromise was about to be reached, either someone from the left side or someone from the right side would scuttle it, because they would not accept a compromise on principle.

But recently, two events occurred in Australia that changed the physical, social and political landscape. In the summer of 2019/2020, we witnessed the worst bushfire season, not only in my lifetime, but in recorded history since European settlement. And although there was some political sniping and blame-calling, all the governments, both Federal and States, deferred to the experts in wildfire and forestry management. What’s more, the whole community came together and helped out irrespective of political and cultural differences. And then, the same thing happened with the COVID-19 crisis. There was broad bipartisan agreement on formulating a response, and the medical experts were not only allowed to do their job but to dictate policy.

Plato was critical of democracies and argued for a ‘philosopher-king’. We don’t have philosopher-kings, but we have non-ideological institutions with diverse scientific and technical expertise. I would contend that ‘understanding each other’ starts with acknowledging one’s own ignorance. 

Plato’s 2400 year legacy

I’ve said this before, but it’s worth repeating: no one totally agrees with everything by someone else. In fact, we each of us change our views as we learn and progress and become exposed to new ideas. It’s okay to cherry-pick. In fact, it’s normal. All the giants in science and mathematics and literature and philosophy borrowed and built on the giants who went before them.

I’ve been reading about Plato in A.C. Grayling’s extensive chapter on him and his monumental status in Western philosophy (The History of Philosophy). According to Grayling, Plato was critical of his own ideas. His later writings challenged some of the tenets of his earlier writings. Plato is a seminal figure in Western culture; his famous Academy ran for almost 800 years, before the Christian Roman Emperor, Justininian, closed it down in 529 CE, because he considered it pagan. One must remember that it was during the Roman occupation of Alexandria in 414 that Hypatia was killed by a Christian mob, which many believe foreshadowed the so-called ‘Dark Ages’. 

Hypatia had good relations with the Roman Prefect of her time, and even had correspondence with a Bishop (Synesius of Cyrene), who clearly respected, even adored her, as her former student. I’ve read the transcript of some of his letters, care of Michael Deakin’s scholarly biography. Deakin is Honorary Research Fellow at the School of Mathematical Sciences of Monash University (Melbourne, Australia). Hypatia also taught a Neo-Platonist philosophy, including the works of Euclid, a former Librarian of Alexandria. On the other hand, the Bishop who is historically held responsible for her death (Cyril) was canonised. It’s generally believed that her death was a ‘surrogate’ attack on the Prefect.

Returning to my theme, the Academy of course changed and evolved under various leaders, which led to what’s called Neoplatonism. It’s worth noting that Augustine was influenced by Neoplatonism as well as Aquinas, because Plato’s perfect world of ‘forms’ and his belief in an immaterial soul lend themselves to Christian concepts of Heaven and life after death.

But I would argue that the unique Western tradition that combines science, mathematics and epistemology into a unifying discipline called physics has its origins in Plato’s Academy. It was a pre-requisite, specified by Plato, that people entering the Academy required a knowledge of mathematics. The one remnant of Plato’s philosophy, which stubbornly resists being relegated to history as an anachronism, is mathematical Platonism, though it probably means something different to Plato’s original concept of ‘forms’.

In modern parlance, mathematical Platonism means that mathematics has an independent existence to the human mind and even the Universe. To quote Richard Feynman (who wasn’t a Platonist) from his book, The Character of Physical Law in the chapter titled The Relation of Mathematics to Physics.

...what turns out to be true is that the more we investigate, the more laws we find, and the deeper we penetrate nature, the more this disease persists. Every one of our laws is a purely mathematical statement in rather complex and abstruse mathematics... Why? I have not the slightest idea. It is only my purpose to tell you about this fact.

The ’disease’ he’s referring to and the ‘fact’ he can’t explain is best expressed in his own words:

The strange thing about physics is that for the fundamental laws we still need mathematics.

To put this into context, he argues that when you take a physical phenomenon that you describe mathematically, like the collision between billiard balls, the fundaments are not numbers or formulae but the actual billiard balls themselves (my mundane example, not his). But when it comes to fundaments of fundamental laws, like the wave function in Schrodinger’s equation (again, my example), the fundaments remain mathematical and not physical objects per se.

In his conclusion, towards the end of a lengthy chapter, he says:

Physicists cannot make a conversation in any other language. If you want to learn about nature, to appreciate nature, it is necessary to understand the language that she speaks in. She offers her information only in one form.

I’m not aware of any physicist who would disagree with that last statement, but there is strong disagreement whether mathematical language is simply the only language to describe nature, or it’s somehow intrinsic to nature. Mathematical Platonism is unequivocally the latter.

Grayling’s account of Plato says almost nothing about the mathematical and science aspect of his legacy. On the other hand, he contends that Plato formulated and attempted to address three pertinent questions:

What is the right kind of life, and the best kind of society? What is knowledge and how do we get it? What is the fundamental nature of reality?

In the next paragraph he puts these questions into perspective for Western culture.

Almost the whole of philosophy consists in approaches to the related set of questions addressed by Plato.

Grayling argues that the questions need to be addressed in reverse order. To some extent, I’ve already addressed the last two. Knowledge of the natural world has become increasingly dependent on a knowledge of mathematics. Grayling doesn’t mention that Plato based his Academy on Pythagoras’s quadrivium: arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music; after Plato deliberately sought out Pythagoras’s best student, Archytas of Terentum. Pythagoras is remembered for contending that ‘all is number’, though his ideas were more religiously motivated than scientific.

But the first question is the one that was taken up by subsequent philosophers, including his most famous student, Aristotle, who arguably had a greater and longer lasting influence on Western thought than his teacher. But Aristotle is a whole other chapter in Grayling’s book, as you’d expect, so I’ll stick to Plato. 

Plato argued for an ‘aristocracy’ government run by a ‘philosopher-king’, but based on a meritocracy rather than hereditary rulership. In fact, if one goes into details, he effectively argued for leadership on a eugenics basis, where prospective leaders were selected from early childhood and educated to rule.

Plato was famously critical of democracy (in his time) because it was instrumental in the execution of his friend and mentor, Socrates. Plato predicted that democracy led to either anarchy or the rule of the wealthy over the poor. In the case of anarchy, a strongman would logically take over and you'd have 'tyranny', which is the worst form of government (according to Plato). The former (anarchy) is what we’ve recently witnessed in so-called 'Arab spring' uprisings. 

The latter (rule by the wealthy) is what has arguably occurred in America, where lobbying by corporate interests increasingly shapes policies. This is happening in other ‘democracies’, including Australia. To give an example, our so-called ‘water policy’ is driven by prioritising the sale of ‘water rights’ to overseas investors over ecological and community needs; despite Australia being the driest continent in the world (after Antarctica). Keeping people employed is the mantra of all parties. In other words, as long as the populace is gainfully employed, earning money and servicing the economy, policy deliberations don’t need to take them into account.

As Clive James once pointed out, democracy is the exception, not the norm. Democracies in the modern world have evolved from a feudalistic model, predominant in Europe up to the industrial revolution, when social engineering ideologies like fascism and communism took over from monarchism. It arguably took 2 world wars before we gave up traditional colonial exploitation, and now we have exploitation of a different kind, which is run by corporations rather than nations. 

I acknowledge that democracy is the best model for government that we have, but those of us lucky enough to live in one tend to take if for granted. In Athens, in the original democracy (in Plato’s time) which was only open to males and excluded slaves, there was a broad separation between the aristocracy and the people who provided all the goods and services, including the army. One can see parallels to today’s world, where the aristocracy have been replaced by corporate leaders, and the interdependence and political friction between these broad categories remain. In the Athens Senate (according to historian, Philip Matyszak) if you weren’t an expert in the field you pontificated on, like ship building (his example) you were generally given short thrift by the Assembly.

I sometimes think that this is the missing link in today’s governance, which has been further eroded by social media. There are experts in today’s world on topics like climate change and species extinction and water conservation (to provide a parochial example) but they are often ignored or sidelined or censored. As recently as a couple of decades ago, scientists at CSIRO (Australia’s internationally renowned, scientific research organisation) were censored from talking about climate change, because they were bound by their conditions of employment not to publicly comment on political issues. And climate change was deemed a political issue, not a scientific one, by the then Cabinet, who were predominantly climate change deniers (including the incumbent PM).

In contrast, the recent bush fire crisis and the current COVID-19 crisis have seen government bodies, at both the Federal and State level, defer to expertise in their relevant fields. To return to my opening paragraph, I think we can cherry-pick some of Plato’s ideas in the context of a modern democracy. I would like to see governments focus more on expertise and long-term planning beyond a government’s term in office. We can’t have ‘philosopher kings’, but we do have ‘elite’ research institutions that can work with private industries in creating more eco-friendly policies that aren’t necessarily governed by the sole criterion of increasing GDP in the short term. I would like to see more bipartisanship rather than a reflex opposition to every idea that is proposed, irrespective of its merits.

Philosophy in politics

I wrote a letter to Philosophy Now (April last year) in response to an article about whether philosophy is still relevant in the modern, economically and technologically, driven world. (Yes, they published it.)

Basically, I said that philosophy is not considered of any economic value, either to governments or corporations, and that is the measure of everything these days, from education to infrastructure to charities. Yes, even charities are being privatised in my part of the world, where you can legitimately make a profit without paying taxes; why else would an overseas corporation want to ‘own’ a charity in Australia?

No, the reason I’m writing this is purely political. But, first, I need to give some context and backstory. You need to understand where this is being written in history, because that’s relevant. Donald Trump is facing an election for a second term as President of the United States (POTUS) in November this year. In his first term, he faced down an investigation into Russian meddling in his inaugural election (Nov. 2016), which saw a number of his colleagues and close associates face gaol time. And more recently, he survived an impeachment trial that centred around his alleged attempt to coerce a foreign power into investigating a political rival in exchange for military aid, which had already been approved by Congress. In my lifetime, only Richard Nixon sat at the centre of a more damaging constitutional storm whilst President. Trump has successfully weathered his storm and even come out stronger, I’d suggest.

On the other side of the Atlantic, the UK has just left the EU, after 3 years of anguish and political infighting, but with a lot of details still to be sorted (as I understand it). However, both countries show a determination to insulate themselves from the travails of the wider world. It’s called isolationism. Trump has methodically sought to exit all treaties, on the premise that they are of no benefit to the US, only its rivals. He’s yet to exit the nuclear arms treaty, but one expects he’ll seek to do that if he wins a second term.

I need to point out that I’ve come to philosophy via science and that’s relevant as well. In science, you learn how to analyse, not just data but the theories themselves, and to value evidence over everything else. There is also an historical relationship between science and philosophy (in Western culture) that goes back to the Ancient Greeks.

Politics has become increasingly partisan in recent decades and that is evident, not only in America and the UK, but also Australia. Our conservative party, called, confusingly, the Liberal party (we say ‘large L Liberal’ and ‘small l liberal’ to signify the difference), has been effectively hijacked by its most conservative adherents in the last decade, and that has deepened the political divide in this country, as it has in other parts of the world.

All over the world, you can divide political groups into so-called ‘Left’ and ‘Right’, which corresponds to liberal and conservative agendas. ‘Conservative’ means exactly what it says: to maintain the status quo and keep to traditional norms, values and customs. ‘Liberal’ generally means open to change and expanding people’s freedoms. Historical examples include the abolition of slavery and women’s right to vote. Gay marriage will one day be viewed in the exact same light. Hindsight would suggest that conservatives have found themselves on the wrong side of history.

But the Left are not immune to intransigence, nor the temptation to censor voices they disagree with. As I’ve said before, intolerance begets intolerance against itself. The partisanship we are witnessing everywhere is a direct consequence of this. Militance in religion, for example, creates militance in its opposite, which is atheism. The same is true for politics.

You’re probably asking, what has any of this to do with philosophy? Well, the split in politics is arguably symptomatic of a deeper philosophical divide. You can view everyone as a potential competitor or you can view them as a potential collaborator. I know from personal experience that people achieve a lot more when they stop working against each other. It’s common sense, but it’s the exception and not the rule in politics.

The relationship between philosophy and politics has a long history. Socrates died as a consequence of a political motion. He supposedly said, ‘I was too honest to be a politician and live.’ We don’t know the details, but we know that Socrates had proven himself courageous in battle. He’s probably one of the very few people in history who literally died for his principles.

If you go on social media, virtually everything is being perceived through a political lens. An obvious example is climate change. I keep asking myself: how did a thoroughly scientific issue become a political one? On top of which, it became one of the most divisive and partisan of our time. The answer is that it requires substantial change to address, and conservatives resist change by definition.

But here’s the thing: the strongest and most virulent argument against climate change is that it’s a ‘hoax’ – the whole thing is a conspiracy. I would put this in the same category as other conspiracy theories, like astronauts never went to the moon, the Earth is flat and the Universe is 6,000 years old. Something else they all have in common is that they are all anti-science, even though their proponents claim otherwise. I don’t find it surprising that Trump’s campaign promoted a lot of conspiracy theories, and his Presidency has been rife with purported conspiracies and hoaxes.

I have a working definition of philosophy: it’s argument augmented by analysis. Philosophy requires argument – that’s its method – and is what distinguishes it from dogma. Analysis is another method intrinsic to science. 

The issue with conspiracy theories is that they entail a wider body of people than you might expect. For example, the moon landing footage was received by a radio telescope in Australia, so they would have had to be part of the conspiracy. With climate change, you have data from organisations like NASA in the northern hemisphere and CSIRO in the southern hemisphere, not to mention Europe, South America and elsewhere. The extent of the conspiracy is mindboggling in its complexity.

But there is a deeper philosophical issue here than just trying to maintain a rational perspective in the face of conspiracy theories. We are on a path of mass extinction as a consequence of a philosophy that infinite economic growth is the only criterion for political success. The issue I have with the modern world is that we are totally dependent on science and technology to the extent that we are paradoxically unaware of that dependency; yet we ignore what science is telling us about the future of our planet.

Our long-term future is dependent on a philosophical choice. We can choose that humans are separate to nature, or that we are part of nature. And science plays a role in this, because science can’t be ignored, whichever path we choose to take.

Addendum: I’ve changed the title so it matches the content.

The confessions of a self-styled traveller in the world of ideas

Every now and then, on very rare occasions, you have a memory or a feeling that was so long ago that it feels almost foreign, like it was experienced by someone else. And, possibly it was, as I’m no longer the same person, either physically or in personality.

This particular memory was when I was a teenager and I was aflame with an idealism. It came to me, just today, while I was walking alongside a creek bed, so I’m not sure I can get it back now. It was when I believed I could pursue a career in science, and, in particular, physics. It was completely at odds with every other aspect of my life. At that time, I had very poor social skills and zero self-esteem. Looking back, it seems arrogant, but when you’re young you’re entitled to dream beyond your horizons, otherwise you don’t try.

This blog effectively demonstrates both the extent of my knowledge and the limits of my knowledge, in the half century since. I’ve been most fortunate to work with some very clever people. In fact, I’ve spent my whole working life with people cleverer than me, so I have no delusions.

I consider myself lucky to have lived a mediocre life. What do I mean by mediocre? Well, I’ve never been homeless, and I’ve never gone hungry and I’ve never been unable to pay my bills. I’m not one to take all that for granted; I think there is a good deal of luck involved in avoiding all of those pitfalls. Likewise, I believe I’m lucky not to be famous; I wouldn’t want my life under a microscope, whereby the smallest infraction of society’s rules could have me blamed and shamed on the world stage.

I’ve said previously that the people we admire most are those who seem to be able to live without a facade. I’m not one of those. My facade is that I’m clever: ever since my early childhood, I liked to spruik my knowledge in an effort to impress people, especially adults, and largely succeeded. I haven’t stopped, and this blog is arguably an extension of that impetus. But I will admit to a curiosity which was manifest from a very young age (pre high school), and that’s what keeps me engaged in the world of ideas. The internet has been most efficacious in this endeavour, though I’m also an avid reader of books and magazines, in the sciences, in particular.

But I also have a secret life in the world of fiction. And fiction is the best place to have a secret life. ELVENE is no secret, but it was written almost 2 decades ago. It was unusual in that it was ‘popular’. By popular, I don’t mean it was read by a multitude (it unequivocally wasn’t), but it was universally liked, like a ‘popular’ song. It had a dichotomous world: indigenous and futuristic. This was years before James Cameron’s Avatar, and a completely different storyline. I received accolades like, ‘I enjoyed every page’ and ‘I didn’t want it to end’ and ‘it practically played out like a movie in my head’.

ELVENE was an aberration – a one-off – but I don’t mind, seriously. My fiction has become increasingly dystopian. The advantage of sci-fi (I call mine, science-fantasy) is that you can create what-if worlds. In fact, an Australian literary scholar, Peter Nicholls, created The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, and a TV doco was made of him called The What If Man.

Anyway, you can imagine isolated worlds, which evolve their own culture and government, not unlike what our world was like before sea and air travel compressed it. So one can imagine something akin to frontier territories where democracy is replaced by autocracy that can either be beneficiary or oppressive or something in between. So I have an autocracy, where the dictator limits travel both on and off his world. Where clones are exploited to become sex workers and people who live there become accustomed to this culture. In other words, it’s not that different to cultures in our past (and some might say, present). The dictator is less Adolf Hitler and more Donald Trump, though that wasn’t deliberate. Like all my characters, he takes on a life of his own and evolves in ways I don’t always anticipate. He’s not evil per se, but he knows how to manipulate people and he demands absolute loyalty, which is yet to be tested.

The thing is that you go where the story and the characters take you, and sometimes they take you into dark territory. But in the dark you look for light. “There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in” (Leonard Cohen). I confess I like moral dilemmas and I feel, I’ve not only created a cognitive dissonance for one of my characters, but, possibly, for myself as a writer. (Graham Greene was the master of the moral dilemma, but he’s in another class.)

Last year I saw a play put on by my good friend, Elizabeth Bradley, The Woman in the Window, for Canberra REP. It includes a dystopian future that features sex workers as an integral part of the society. It was a surprise to see someone else addressing a similar scenario. The writer was Kiwi, Alma De Groen, and she juxtaposed history (the dissident poet, Anna Akhmatova in Stalin’s Russia) with a dystopian future Australia.

I take a risk by having female protagonists prominent in all my fiction. It’s a risk because there is a lot of controversy about so-called ‘culture appropriation’. I increase that risk by portraying relationships from my female protagonists’ perspectives. However, there is always a sense that they all exist independently of me, which one can only appreciate if you willingly enter a secret world of fiction.

Australia’s bush fires; 2019-2020

The one word that was used over and over again to describe this ongoing event over a period of 4-5 months was ‘unprecedented’. Australia is a continent unique in the world, not just because of its fauna and flora, but also because of its landscape and its weather. 

We are the second driest continent in the world (after Antarctica) and our river systems are unique. In the northern hemisphere, ‘flow ratios’ (maximum to average flows) for rivers and natural waterways are in the order of 10 to 1, but in Australia they are in the order of 100 to 1. We have the largest overflows on our dams compared to other countries. We are a country of droughts and floods, and bush fires are a part of the environment ever since I can remember in my half a century (and more) of living here.

Having said all that, in the 200 plus years since 'White European settlement’, no one had witnessed anything of this magnitude and ferocity in Australia, over this period of time and over such a large area of the country. ‘Unprecedented’ is the absolutely right word to describe this event.

Personally, I know of no one who was directly impacted by the fires. Correction: I know of one person who sustained property damage and whose business was affected, but who experienced no serious loss. I spent the Christmas, New Year period in an area directly affected called the Southern Highlands of NSW (it gets a special mention in the imbedded video) and I saw firsthand the aftermath of a very small part of this whole catastrophe. Also, I have a niece who works full time in the RFS (Rural Fire Service) in NSW. She works in logistics, and I didn’t see her this Christmas.

One has to make special mention of the people, many of whom are unpaid volunteers, we call the ‘fireys’ who risk their lives to save people and their property. I can’t watch this video without ‘tearing up’ in places. Once you start watching, you’ll find it very compelling viewing, and you’ll find it hard, if not impossible, to stop watching for its 48 min duration.

Four Corners is a renowned investigative programme in Australia that has won numerous awards for excellence in TV journalism. The ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) has taken the unusual step of posting this episode on YouTube the day after it went to air (3 Feb 2020). Normally, you can’t view this outside Australia, but this is far too important for the world not to see.

I hope this is a turning point in the world’s consciousness on the subject of climate change. It’s a contentious subject, even in Australia, even after this event, but I’ve expressed my views on it, on this blog, as early as a decade ago.

This post is directly relevant to my previous post, if you haven’t read it.

Sometimes being paranoid is healthy

Not that long ago I wrote a post about how the technology of surveillance and its ever-increasing role in policing was overtaking fiction. As a sometime science fiction writer, it comes with the territory to explore future societies. In my fiction, I really don’t attempt to forecast the future, I simply use a fictional social landscape to explore ideas and, in particular, relationships with advanced technology. There is an element of fantasy in my stories as well.

All governments know the importance of controlling information, called ‘controlling the narrative’, which is why an independent media is essential to a democracy, and it’s also why the most totalitarian governments find ways to imprison journalists who challenge the ‘party narrative’. In the current political climate throughout the Western world, opinions have become polarised on almost every issue, and, as someone recently pointed out, media outlets have become default political mouthpieces. Followers on both sides of politics now want to silence or muzzle media sources that disagree with their particular political point of view.

Very recently, in Australia, following a surprising election win by an incumbent conservative government, media outlets were raided (both public and commercial sources) including an award-winning female journalist’s home. This rang alarm bells from all sides of media. The timing was significant because the 2 different news stories went to air more than a year earlier, yet the raids occurred within a week of winning an election. The Government claims the raids were independent of them; so aren’t they lucky the raids didn’t occur the week before the election instead of the week following.

In the case of the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation), Federal Police officers sat in a room and went through emails and edited them, apparently. Effectively changing records to suit their purpose. If this happens in a democracy, what happens in totalitarian regimes. (Well, journalists are put in jail or assassinated in some cases, like Russia).

Now imagine a future society where everyone is tracked by facial recognition and everyone has a social ‘rating’ which determines what buildings they can enter, what job they can apply for and even what transport they can board, be it a train or a plane. Did I say future? This is already happening in the most populous nation in the world. It’s well known that this same nation controls very exactly what information people can access.

It was less than 20 years ago, when there was a ‘Y2K’ scare, predicting that important utilities and infrastructure would fail when computer clocks ticked over to the year 2000, because their clocks didn’t go beyond that date. As it turned out, the scare was ill-founded, but it highlighted how dependent we are on the internet infrastructure, and how vulnerable it could be in a future transcontinental conflict.

Most people are blissfully unaware of how our computing systems are based on 2 formats that go back decades – Microsoft and Apple – so it would be virtually impossible to introduce a new system from scratch. But what if the internet infrastructure became just as dependent on one system, and as their monopoly grew over the entire world, how hard it would be to ‘disconnect’.

Now, also imagine if the infrastructure that everyone depended on was run by one of the most totalitarian regimes in the world, who had a paranoid obsession with the control of information.

Religion and politics in secular society

This is a letter I wrote to The Weekend Australian, Christmas 2017, so 18 months ago. There was a side-debate at the time, during the same sex marriage debate about ‘religious freedom’. It seemed to me that ‘religious freedom’ was ‘code’ for freedom to discriminate against gays and lesbians, and it’s not over. From what I’ve read and seen, the only arguments against same sex marriage came from conservative religious figures (some being politicians) even if they claimed it was about ‘the sanctity of marriage’.

The letter below alludes to that debate, even though the topic is much broader. It’s really about a perceived conflict between secularism and Christianity in Western societies, including Australia. There is a recurring argument that our Christian heritage provides the moral fabric of our society with the inference that, without it, we’d lose our moral compass. If that was true, and we really followed Christ’s calling, we wouldn’t treat refugees the way we do. In fact, our 2 most conservative Christian leaders, in recent times, have been the most ruthless advocates for persecuting refugees, and of fomenting xenophobic sentiment in the electorate.

The names referenced in the letter below, are journalists or commentators. The Australian is a Murdoch publication, so it has conservative political leanings.



Both Paul Kelly and John Carroll in separate articles (Weekend Australian, Enquirer, 23-24 Dec.2017) seem concerned that the modern secular world that dominates Western societies, and therefore Australia, has forgotten, even ‘turned its back’ on our Christian heritage. I’m officially retiring age, so I grew up in post-war Australia when going to Sunday School and scripture classes (in public schools) was still considered part of a child’s education (neither of my parents were religious; they just thought it was the cultural norm). Strangely, I don’t lament the loss, for want of a better word, the Church’s role in political and secular life, epitomised by the divide between Catholics and Protestants that dominated even the small country town where I grew up.

I found the greater part of Paul Kelly’s lengthy editorial a stimulating read, even when I might proffer alternative views, but his commentary on High Court judge Dyson Heydon’s concerns about the future of Christianity in this country, I found alarmist to say the least:  “The question for the West is how it retains its civilisational heritage if it abandons beliefs in its Christian ethic or, indeed, if its political culture begins to assault that ethic.” Without referencing them specifically, he’s obviously referring to the passing of the recent same-sex-marriage bill in Federal Parliament and the euthanasia bill in the Victorian State Parliament. Both of these have provoked ‘concerns’ from the Catholic church, in particular, who are effectively under siege for the sins they committed in the previous generation.

Personally, I think it’s a landmark moment that gays and lesbians now have the same rights as heterosexual couples. A law that has symbolic and pragmatic importance for the people it affects, and absolutely no effect on the people who oppose it. No one is being forced to have same-sex marriage – it’s a choice. Kelly and his fellow detractors will talk about religious freedom, but it’s only an issue for the people who, for whatever reason, think that homosexuals and lesbians should stay in the closet, or at least, stay out of our churches. If it comes to a choice – and it shouldn’t – between gay and lesbian rights and religious freedom, then it’s a no brainer for most Australians, including the ones like myself, who are heterosexual.

To give credit to The Australian, on the same page as John Carroll’s very lengthy piece on Christmas and the declining relevance of Jesus’ story to most Australians, there is a piece by Helen Dale, who explains, at some length, the pagan roots of Christmas that most Australians are either unaware of or blissfully apathetic about. This created a counter-perspective that was running through my head even while I was reading Carroll’s thesis.

Don Cupitt, a theologian, turned philosopher and author, is a bit of an iconoclast when it comes to religion and Christianity in particular. He’s made the salient point that humanist morality really started with the novel, where moral dilemmas and issues concerning good and evil were resolved without invoking a Deity or scripture. Carroll, to his credit, makes a similar point about the role of literature and popular culture in stimulating our psyche in this regard, without resort to prescriptive Christian ethics. He then goes on to say: “Further, we have now had 150 years of gloomy prediction that the death of God would lead to political anarchy and the moral collapse of the West. That has simply not eventuated.”

For Carroll, the Jesus story is all about imbibing us with meaning, and that is what we are losing. The point is that the Jesus story is mythology and when I was a child, undergoing the religious education I mentioned in my introductory paragraph, I really believed the stories were true, because at that age we believe whatever adults tell us. Like many of my generation, I grew up disillusioned in my mid teens, when I realised the stories were not only mythologised but defied rational analysis. And that is the real reason that Christianity has lost its meaning for most people with a Western education.

In the Review section of the same issue of the Weekend Australian, John Carey reviews a book by Stephen Greenblatt, The Rise and Fall of Adam and Eve, where he charters the literary history of the book of Genesis, from its origins in The Epic of Gilgamesh to Augustine’s seminal re-interpretation as signifying the ‘Fall of Man’. I’m not sure if it’s Carey’s or Greenblatt’s insight, but one of them points out the logical inconsistency in the morality tale: “For if God was all-knowing, why did he forbid Adam and Eve to eat the fruit, knowing they would disobey? Why did he create them at all, since he intended to kill them?”

Both Carroll and Kelly refer to the heritage or legacy that Christian ethics has provided to Western cultures. Well, historically, so-called Christian ethics has created a lot of bigotry, wars, genocide and inquisitional torture. Many contemporary commentators point to the current issues surrounding Islam, claiming that the religion itself is flawed. Well, if Islam is flawed then so is Christianity.

Hugh Mackay, in his book, Right & Wrong; How to Decide for Yourself, warns of the dangers of believing that God is on your side, because then anything can be justified, which is what we’ve witnessed both historically and contemporarily.


Addendum: The same day I posted this, I read an article in the Australian Weekend Magazine (July 20-21, 2019) about Israel Folau and the issue of religious freedom. Folau is a star rugby player with the Australian Rugby Union team and famously posted a piece on Facebook that all homosexuals, adulterers, liars and various other sinners would go to Hell. What created a furor wasn’t so much what he said but that he was sacked from the team (his contract was terminated). I agree with former Australian Human Rights Commissioner, Gillian Triggs, that the Australian Rugby Union went outside their remit.

The incident has brought out the worst on both sides of the debate, and demonstrates what happens when you try to enforce what people are allowed to say in public. Peter Singer is another unexpected supporter of Folau's right to free speech. My attitude is that everyone should be allowed to make complete fools of themselves, whether they be sports stars, TV celebrities, politicians or even the President of the United States.

What is the third way?

This is the latest Question of the Month from Philosophy Now. I should point out that my last entry didn’t get published. After a run of something like 5 in a row, that was a bit of a perspective-changer. I had been getting cocksure. So I have 7 out of 9 published and now aiming for 8 out of 10. But 7 out of 10 is still a good result over a period of around 10 years. I should point out that I don’t enter every single one of them. I pick and choose, which skews my chances of success.

The ‘third way’ referenced in the question is basically a reference to an alternative societal paradigm to capitalism and communism. I expect that most, if not all responses will be variations on a 'middle way'. But if there is a completely out-of-the-box answer, I’ll be curious to read it. So, maybe the way the question is addressed will be just as important, if not more important, than the proposed resolution.



I think this is the most difficult question Philosophy Now has thrown at us in the decade or two I’ve been reading it. I think there definitely will be a third way by the end of this century, but I’m not entirely sure what it will be. Is that a copout? No, I’m going to attempt to forecast the future by looking at the past.

If one goes back before the industrial revolution, no one would have predicted that feudalism would not continue forever. But the industrial revolution unintentionally spawned two social experiments: communism and capitalism that spanned the 20th Century. I think one can fairly say that capitalism ultimately prevailed, because all communist inspired revolutions became State-run oligarchies that led to the worst excesses in totalitarianism.

What’s more, we saw more societal and technological change in the 20th Century than all previous history. There is no reason to believe that the 21st Century won’t be even more transformative. We are currently going through a technological revolution in every way analogous to the industrial revolution of the 19th Century, and it will be just as socially disruptive and economically challenging.

Capitalism has become so successful globally, especially in the high-tech industries, that corporations are starting to eclipse governments in their influence and power, and, to some extent, now embody the feudal system we thought we’d left behind. I’m referring to third world countries providing exploited labour and resources for the affluent elite, which includes me.

There is an increasing need to stop the wasteful production of goods on the altar of economic growth. It’s not only damaging the environment, it increases the gap between those who consume and those who produce. So a global economy would give the wealth to those who produce and not just those who are their puppet masters. This would require equitable wealth distribution on a global scale, not just nationally.

Future technologies will become more advanced to the point that there will be a symbiosis between humans and machines, and this will have a dramatic impact on economic drivers. A universal basic income, which is unthinkable now, will become a necessity because so many jobs will be AI executed.

People and their ideas are only considered progressive in hindsight. But what was radical in the past often becomes the status quo in the present; and voila: no one can imagine it any other way.


Addendum: I changed the last sentence of the third-last paragraph before I sent it off.

When real life overtakes fiction

I occasionally write science fiction; a genre I chose out of fundamental laziness. I knew I could write in that medium without having to do any research to speak of. I liked the idea of creating the entire edifice - world, story and characters - from my imagination with no constraints except the bounds of logic.

There are many subgenres of sci-fi: extraterrestrial exploration, alien encounters, time travel, robots & cyborgs, inter-galactic warfare, genetically engineered life-forms; but most SF stories, including mine, are a combination of some of these. Most sci-fi can be divided into 2 broad categories – space opera and speculative fiction, sometimes called hardcore SF. Space operas, exemplified by the Star Wars franchise, Star Trek and Dr Who, generally take more liberties with the science part of science fiction.

I would call my own fictional adventures science-fantasy, in the mould of Frank Herbert’s Dune series or Ursula K Le Guin’s fiction; though it has to be said, I don’t compete with them on any level.

I make no attempt to predict the future, even though the medium seems to demand it. Science fiction is a landscape that I use to explore ideas in the guise of a character-oriented story. I discovered, truly by accident, that I write stories about relationships. Not just relationships between lovers, but between mother and daughter, daughter and father(s), protagonist and nemesis, protagonist and machine.

One of the problems with writing science fiction is that the technology available today seems to overtake what one imagines. In my fiction no one uses a mobile phone. I can see a future where people can just talk to someone in the ether, because they can connect in their home or in their car, without a device per se. People can connect via a holographic form of Skype, which means they can have a meeting with someone in another location. We are already doing this, of course, and variations on this theme have been used in Star Wars and other space operas. But most of the interactions I describe are very old fashioned face-to-face, because that's still the best way to tell a story.

If you watch (or read) crime fiction you’ll generally find it’s very suspenseful with violence not too far away. But if you analyze it, you’ll find it’s a long series of conversations, with occasional action and most of the violence occurring off-screen (or off-the-page). In other words, it’s more about personal interactions than you realise, and that’s what generally attracts you, probably without you even knowing it.

This is a longwinded introduction to explain why I am really no better qualified to predict future societies than anyone else. I subscribe to New Scientist and The New Yorker, both of which give insights into the future by examining the present. In particular, I recently read an article in The New Yorker (Dec, 17, 2018) by David Owen about facial-recognition, called Here’s Looking At You, that is already being used by police forces in America to target arrests without any transparency. Mozilla (in a podcast last year) described how a man had been misidentified twice, was arrested and subsequently lost his job and his career. I also read in last week’s New Scientist (15 Dec. 2018) how databases are being developed to know everything about a person, even what TV shows they watch and their internet use. It’s well known that in China there is a credit-point system that determines what buildings you can access and what jobs you can apply for. China has the most surveillance cameras anywhere in the world, and they intend to combine them with the latest facial recognition software.

Yuval Harari, in Homo Deus, talks about how algorithms are going to take over our lives, but I think he missed the mark. We are slowly becoming more Orwellian with social media already determining election results. In the same issue of New Scientist, journalist, Chelsea Whyte, asks: Is it time to unfriend the social network? with specific reference to Facebook’s recently exposed track-record. According to her: “Facebook’s motto was once ‘move fast and break things.’ Now everything is broken.” Quoting from the same article:

Now, the UK parliament has published internal Facebook emails that expose the mindset inside the company. They reveal discussions among staff over whether to collect users’ phone call logs and SMS texts through its Android app. “This is a pretty high-risk thing to do from a PR perspective but it appears that the growth team will charge ahead and do it.” (So said Product Manager Michael LeBeau in an email from 2015)

Even without Edward Snowden’s whistle-blowing expose, we know that governments the world over are collecting our data because the technological ability to do that is now available. We are approaching a period in our so-called civilised development where we all have an on-line life (if you are reading this) and it can be accessed by governments and corporations alike. I’ve long known that anyone can learn everything they need to know about me from my computer, and increasingly they don’t even need the computer.

In one of my fictional stories, I created a dystopian world where everyone had a ‘chip’ that allowed all conversations to be recorded so there was literally no privacy. We are fast approaching that scenario in some totalitarian societies. In Communist China under Mao, and Communist Soviet Union under Stalin, people found the circle of people they could trust got smaller and smaller. Now with AI capabilities and internet-wide databases, privacy is becoming illusory. With constant surveillance, all subversion can be tracked and subsequently prosecuted. Someone once said that only societies that are open to new ideas progress. If you live in a society where new ideas are censored then you will get stagnation.

In my latest fiction I’ve created another autocratic world, where everyone is tracked because everywhere they go they interact with very realistic androids who act as servants, butlers and concierges, but, in reality, keep track of what everyone’s doing. The only ‘futuristic’ aspect of this are the androids and the fact that I’ve set it on some alien world. (My worlds aren’t terra-formed; people live in bubbles that create a human-friendly environment.)

After reading these very recent articles in New Scientist and TNY, I’ve concluded that our world is closer to the one I’ve created in my imagination than I thought.


Addendum 1: This is a podcast about so-called Surveillance Capitalism, from Mozilla. Obviously, I use Google and I'm also on FaceBook, but I don't use Twitter. Am I part of the problem or part of the solution? The truth is I don't know. I try to make people think and share ideas. I have political leanings, obviously, but they're transparent. Foremost, I believe, that if you can't put your name to something you shouldn't post it.

In defence of (Australia’s) ABC

I have just finished reading a book by the IPA titled Against Public Broadcasting; Why We Should Privatise the ABC and How to Do It (authors: Chris Berg and Sinclair Davidson).  The IPA is the Institute of Public Affairs, and according to Wikipedia ‘…is a conservative public policy think tank based in Melbourne Australia. It advocates free market economic policies such as privatisation and deregulation of state-owned enterprises, trade liberalisation and deregulated workplaces, climate change scepticism, the abolition of the minimum wage, and the repeal of parts of the Racial Discrimination Act 1975.’ From that description alone, one can see that the ABC represents everything IPA opposes.

There has long been a fractured relationship between the ABC and consecutive Liberal governments, but the situation has deteriorated recently, and I see it as a symptom of the polarisation of politics occurring everywhere in the Western world.

It should be obvious where I stand on this issue, so I am biased in the same way that the IPA is biased, though we are on opposing sides. A friend of mine and work colleague for nearly 3 decades, recently told me that I had lost ‘objectivity’ on political issues, and he was specifically referring to my stance on the ABC and offshore detention of refugees. I told him that ‘mathematics is the only intellectual endeavour that is truly objective’. Philosophy is not objective; ever since Socrates, it’s all about argument and argument axiomatically assumes alternative points of view.

The IPA’s book is generally well argued in as much as they provide economic rationales and counter arguments to the most common reasons given for keeping the ABC. I won’t go into these in depth, as I don’t have time; instead I will focus more on the ideological divide that I believe has led to this becoming a political issue.

One of the authors’ themes is that the ABC is anachronistic, which implies it no longer serves the purpose for which it was originally intended. But they go further in that they effectively argue that the policy of having a public broadcaster in the English BBC mould was flawed from the beginning and that Australia should have adopted the American model of a free market, so no public broadcaster in the first place.

The authors refer to a survey done by the Dix inquiry in 1981 as ‘the most comprehensive investigation into the ABC in the public broadcaster’s history.’ Dix gave emphasis to a number of population surveys, but tellingly the authors say that ‘audience surveys are a thin foundation on which to mount an argument for public broadcasting.’ I’m not sure they’d mount that argument if the audience survey had come out negative.

The fact is that throughout the entire history of Australian broadcasting, we have adopted a combined A and B (public and commercial) approach that seems to be complementary rather than conflicting. The IPA would argue that this view is erroneous. Given Australia’s small population base over an enormous territory (Australia is roughly the area of the US without Alaska, but with 60% of California’s population) this mix has proven effective. Arguably, with the Internet and on-line entertainment services, the world has changed. The point is that the ABC has adapted, but commercial entities claim that the ABC has an unfair advantage because it’s government subsidised. Be that the case, the ABC provides quality services that the other networks don’t provide (elaborated on below).

According to figures provided in their book, the ABC captures between 19% and 25% market share for both television and radio (the 19% is for prime time viewing, but they get 24-28% overall). Given that there are 3 other TV networks plus subscription services like Netflix and Stan, this seems a reasonable share. It would have been interesting to see what market share the other networks capture for a valid comparison. But if one of the commercial networks dominates with 30% or more, than the other 2 networks would have less share than the ABC. Despite this, the authors claim, in other parts of the book, that the ABC has a ‘fraction’ of the market. Well, ¼ is a sizeable fraction, all things considered.

One of the points the authors make is that there seems to be conflicting objectives in practice as well as theory. Basically, it is argued that the ABC provide media services that are not provided by the private sector, yet they compete with the private sector in areas like news, current affairs, dramas and child education programmes. Many people who oppose the ABC (not just the IPA) argue that the ABC should not compete with commercial entities. But they have the same market from which to draw consumers, so how can they not? Many of these same people will tell you that they never watch the ABC, which effectively negates their argument.

But the argument disguises an unexpressed desire for the ABC to become irrelevant by choice of content. What they are saying, in effect, is that the ABC should only produce programmes that nobody wants to watch or listen to. There is an inference that they don’t mind if the ABC exists as long as they don’t compete with other networks; in other words, as long as they just produce crap.

In some respects they don’t compete with other networks, because, as the authors say themselves, they produce ‘quality’ programmes. In fact, the authors, in an extraordinary piece of legerdemain say: “If private media outlets are producing only ‘commercial trash’, then that could very well be because the ABC has cornered the market for quality.” I thought this argument so hilarious, I call it an ‘own goal’.

It’s such a specious argument. The authors strongly believe that the market sorts everything out, so it’s just a matter of supply and demand. But here’s the thing: if the commercial networks don’t produce ‘quality’ programmes (to use the authors’ own nomenclature) when they have competition from the ABC, why would they bother when the ABC no longer exists?

For the authors this was a throwaway comment, but for me, it’s the raison d’etre of the ABC. The reason I oppose the abandonment of the ABC is because I don’t want mediocrity to rule unopposed.

Paul Barry, who has worked in both public and commercial television, recalls an occasion when he was covering a Federal election for a commercial network. He wanted to produce some analytical data, and his producer quickly squashed it, saying ‘no one wants to watch that crap’ or words to that effect. Barry said he quickly realised that he was dealing with a completely different audience. Many people call this elitist, and I agree. But if elitist means I want intellectual content in my viewing, then I plead guilty.

If the ABC was an abject failure, if it didn’t have reasonable market share, if it wasn’t held in such high regard by the general public, (including people who don’t use it; as pointed out by the authors themselves) there would appear to be no need to write a book proposing a rationale and finely tuned argument for its planned obsolescence. In other words, the book has been written principally to explain why a successful enterprise should be abandoned or changed at its roots. Since the ABC has been a continuing, evolving success story in the face of technological changes to media distribution, the argument to radically alter its operations, even abandon it, appears specious and suggests ulterior motives.

In fact, I would argue that it’s only because the ABC is so successful that its most virulent critics want to dismantle it and erase it from the Australian collective consciousness. For some people, including the IPA (I suspect), the reasons are ideological. They simply don’t want such a successful media enterprise that doesn’t follow their particular political and ideological goals to have the coverage and popularity that the ABC benefits from.

This brings us to the core of the issue: the ABC’s perceived political bias. Unlike most supporters of the ABC, I think this bias is real, but the authors themselves make the point that the ABC should not be privatised for ‘retribution’. The authors give specific examples where they believe political bias has been demonstrated but it’s hard to argue that it’s endemic. The ABC goes to lengths that most other services don’t, to acquire an opposing point of view. To give a contemporary example: 4 Corners, which is a leading investigative journalism programme, is currently running a 3 part series on Donald Trump and his Russian connections. The journalist, Sarah Ferguson, has lengthy interviews with the people under scrutiny (who have been implicated) and effectively gives them the right of reply to accusations made against them by media and those critical of their conduct. She seeks the counsel of experts, not all of whom agree, and lets the viewer make their own judgements. It’s a very professional dissection (by an outsider) of a major political controversy.

So-called political bias is subjective, completely dependent on the bias of the person making the judgment. I’m an exception in that I share the ABC’s bias yet acknowledge it. Most people who share the ABC’s bias (or any entity’s bias) will claim it’s not biased, but any entity (media or otherwise) with a different view to theirs will be biased according to them. From this perspective, I expect the IPA to consider the ABC biased, because they have a specific political agenda (as spelt out in the opening paragraph of this post) that is the opposite of the ABC’s own political inclinations. The authors acknowledge that intellectuals are statistically left leaning and journalists are predominantly intellectual.

To illustrate my point, the authors give 2 specific examples that they claim demonstrates the ABC’s lack of impartiality. One is that the ABC doesn’t give air time to climate change sceptics. But from my point of view, it’s an example of the ABC’s integrity in that they won’t give credibility to bogus science. In fact, they had a zealous climate change sceptic on a panel with Brian Cox, who annihilated him with facts from NASA. Not surprisingly, the sceptic argued the data was contaminated. Apparently, this embarrassment on national television of a climate change denier is an example of unacceptable political bias on the part of the ABC. The IPA, as mentioned earlier, is a peddler of climate change scepticism.

The other example mentioned by the authors is that the ABC doesn’t give enough support to the government’s policy of offshore detention. In fact, the ABC (and SBS) are the only mainstream media outlets in Australia that are openly critical of this policy, which is a platform of both major political parties, so political bias for one party over the other is not an issue in this case.

A few years ago, under Prime Minister Tony Abbott, laws were introduced to threaten health workers at Nauru and Manus Island (where asylum seekers are kept in detention) if they reported abuse. This was hypocritical in the extreme when health workers on mainland Australia are obliged by law to report suspected abuse. The ABC interviewed whistleblowers who risked jail, which the government of the day would have seen as a form of betrayal: giving a voice to people they wanted to silence.

As recently as last week there has been another death (of a 26 year old Iranian) but it never made it into any mainstream media report.

One only has to visit the web page of the publishers of the book, Connor Court Publishing, to see that they specialise in disseminating conservative political agendas like climate change scepticism and offshore detention.

To give a flavour of the IPA, there was recently a Royal Commission into the banking and finance sector which uncovered widespread corruption and rorting. On IPA’s website, I saw a comment about the hearings that compared them to a Soviet-style show trial. The ABC, it should be noted, reported the facts without emotive rhetoric but fielded comments from politicians on both sides of politics.

At the end of the book, the authors discuss how the ABC could be privatised. Basically, there are 2 alternatives: tender it to a private conglomerate (which could be overseas based) or put it to public shareholders, similar to what was done with Tesltra (a telecommunication company).  The IPA’s proposal is that they make the employees the shareholders so that they have full financial responsibility for their own performance. Their argument is that because they would be forced to appeal to a wider audience they would have to change their political stripes. In other words, they would need to appeal to populist movements that are gaining political momentum in all Western democracies, though they don’t specifically say this. This seems like an exercise in cynicism, as I’m unaware of any large complex media enterprise that is 'owned' by its employees. It seems to my inexpert eye like a recipe for failure, which I believe is their unstated objective.

Their best argument is that it costs roughly $1B a year that could be better spent elsewhere and that it’s an unnecessary burden on our national debt. This comes to 14c a day per capita, apparently. I see it as part of the government’s investment in arts and culture.

There is a larger context that the book glosses over, which is the role of media in keeping a democracy honest. The ABC is possibly unique in that it’s a taxpayer funded media that holds the government of the day to account (for both sides of politics). I think the authors’ arguments are ideologically motivated. In short, the book is a rational economic argument to undermine, if not destroy, an effective media enterprise that doesn’t reflect the IPA’s own political ambitions.