As Australia’s ban on under-16-year-olds having certain social media accounts kicks in this week, debate on whether it’s a good idea or even legal rages on – both at home and overseas.

Yet barely acknowledged in this debate is what happens when a child doesn’t have an account, yet their entire childhood is still documented online. Should this be permitted?

“Sharenting” – when parents share their children’s lives online – entered the dictionary a few years ago. Awareness of potential risks has been increasing, but many parents still routinely share pictures and videos of their children online.

Sharenting is widespread and persistent. A review of practices over the past ten years describes that parents commonly share details such as children’s names, dates of birth, birthday parties, milestones (birthdays, school achievements), health info and photos. This produces a “digital identity” of the child long before they can consent.

And it’s not just parents. Dance schools, soccer clubs and various other community groups, as well as family members and friends, commonly post about children online. All contribute to what’s essentially a collective digital album about the child. Even for children not yet old enough to have their own account, their lives could be heavily documented online until they do.

This challenge moves us well beyond traditional approaches to safety messages such as “don’t share your personal details online” or “don’t talk to strangers”. It requires a deeper understanding of what exactly safety and wellbeing for children on online platforms looks like.

A passive data subject

Here’s a typical sharenting scenario. A family member uploads a photo captioned “Mia’s 8th birthday at Bondi beach!” to social media, where it gets tagged and flooded with comments from relatives and friends.

Young Mia isn’t scrolling. She isn’t being bullied. She doesn’t have her own account. But in the act of having a photo and multiple comments about her uploaded, she has just become a passive data subject. Voluntarily disclosed by others, Mia’s sensitive information – data on her face and age – exposes her to risks without her consent or participation.

The algorithm doesn’t care Mia is eight years old. It cares that her photo keeps adults on the app for longer. Her digital persona is being used to sustain the platform’s real product: adult attention. Children’s images posted by family and friends function as engagement tools, with parents reporting that “likes” and comments encourage them to continue sharing more about their child.

We share such posts to connect with family and to feel part of a community. Yet a recent Italian study of 228 parents found 93% don’t fully realise the associated data harvesting practices that take place, and their risk to the child’s privacy, security and image protection.

A public narrative of one’s life

Every upload of a child’s face, especially across years and from multiple sources, help create a digital identity they don’t have control over. Legally and ethically, many frameworks attempt to restrict commercial data profiling of minors, but recent studies show profiling is still happening at scale.

By the time a child is 16 – old enough to create their own account – a platform may already have accumulated a sizeable and lucrative profile of them to sell to advertisers.

The fallout isn’t just about data; it’s personal. That cute birthday photo can resurface in a background check for future employment or become ammunition for teenage bullying.

More subtly, a young person forging their identity must now contend with a pre-written, public narrative of their life, one they didn’t choose or control.

New laws aiming to ban children from social media address real harms such as exposure to misogynistic or hateful material, dangerous online challenges, violent videos, and content promoting disordered eating and suicide – but they focus on the child as a user. In today’s data economy, you don’t need an account to be tracked and profiled. You just need to be relevant to someone else who has an account.

What can we do?

The essential next step is social media literacy for all of us. This is a new form of literacy for the digital world we live in now. It means understanding how algorithms shape our feeds, how dark design patterns keep us scrolling, and that any “like” or photo is a data point in a vast commercial machine.

Social media literacy is not just for kids in classrooms, but for parents, coaches, carers and anyone else engaging with kids in our online world. We all need to understand this.

Sharenting-awareness campaigns exist, from eSafety’s parental privacy resources, to the EU-funded children’s digital rights initiative, but they are not yet shifting the culture. That’s because we’re conditioned to think about our children’s physical safety, not so much their data safety. Because the risks of posting aren’t immediate or visible, its easy to underestimate them.

Shifting adult behaviour closes the gap between our concerns and our actions, and the reality of children’s exposure to content on social media.

Keeping children safe online means looking beyond kids as users and recognising the role adults play in creating a child’s digital footprint.

Joanne Orlando, Researcher, Digital Wellbeing, Western Sydney University

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

There has been massive global interest in the new social media legislation introduced in Australia aimed at protecting children from the dangers of doom‑scrolling and mental‑health risks potentially posed by these platforms during their developmental years

The platforms’ methods so far for verifying young people’s ages have shown mixed effectiveness.

The Australian Christmas period may be interrupted with cries of “I’m so bored without Insta”, but the Australian government is not done yet. New measures are scheduled to come into force before the new year, which will include further restrictions on content deemed age-inappropriate across a range of internet services.

What are the new restrictions?

While families grapple with the social media ban, Australia is about to dial up the volume on increased measures to further regulate the internet through the impending industry codes. These will eventually be implemented across services including search engines, social media messaging services, online games, app distributors, equipment manufacturers and suppliers (smartphones, tablets and so on) and AI chatbots and companions.

Over the Christmas break we’ll start to see hosting services (and ISPs/search engines) that deliver sexual content including pornography, alongside material categorised as promoting eating disorders and self-harm, start to impose various restrictions, including increased age checks.

However, there are concerns the codes may result in overreach, affecting marginalised communities and limiting young people’s access to educational material. After all, big tech doesn’t have a great track record, particularly in terms of sexual health material and associated educational content.

How will it work?

From December 27 (with some measures coming in later), sites delivering content that fall under the new industry codes will be required to implement “appropriate age assurance”. How they will do this is largely left to the providers to decide.

Age checks will likely be administered across the internet through various age-assurance and age-verification processes to limit young people’s access.

While much of the media coverage has focused on the social media ban, the industry codes have been much quieter, and arguably more difficult to understand. Discussion has focused on the impact and extent of the code with little focus on the very people that the changes are designed to impact: young people.

The quiet voices

Our new research explores the view of Australia’s teens on various age-verification and age-assurance measures – views that don’t appear to have been fully taken into consideration by policymakers.

Teens believe governments and industry should be “doing more” to make online spaces safer, but are sceptical about age verification measures. Unsurprisingly, consistent with other research, teens confess they will find ways around the ban, such as the use of VPNs, borrowed ID or using images of adults to overcome age verification and assurance measures. Biometric measures such as facial identification have also shown concerning racial, gender and age bias.

Miles, 16, told us:

There are nifty little ways around it. […] I think that’s one thing that all kids have, [a] knack to kind of — there’s a little thing, “oh I can get ‘round it, it’s a bit of fun”[…] There will be loopholes that people will find, there’ll be younger generations finding little knickknacks [VPNs] there’ll be ways around.

Much like adults, teens held concerns around the privacy and security implications of age verification.

Some measures require personal data to be either validated or processed by third-party companies, potentially outside Australia. Users are expected to trust such companies despite data being a highly valuable commodity in the modern age.

Previous research has indicated scepticism around the safety of allowing third parties to host such personal data. This raises justified security and privacy concerns for all Australian users – especially following the recent Discord data leak that disclosed photos used for age verification of Australian account holders.

Even research by the office of the eSafety commissioner itself indicates teens are tech-savvy and likely to bypass restrictions.

In the United Kingdom (where on the day of implementation, one VPN platform saw a 1,400% surge in uptake, minors are now using unstable free VPNs to overcome Ofcom’s age-assurance measures to access blocked pornographic content. While functional for the end-user, their use leaves them susceptible to sensitive personal data leaks and phishing, further compromising their safety.

Such concerns are exacerbated by uncertainty over the kind of data being captured by third parties and government bodies, (particularly if digital ID or temporary digital tokens are to be used as a measure in future). For teens, this possibility was of particular concern when considering access to online sexual content as the new rules come into force. As Miles told us:

What you’re consuming I think is a little bit too far. I think there are certain limits and prying into people’s personal sexual lives is a little bit too far [capturing] personal sexual interests and viewings.

Teens note that by restricting access to content, the government may actually be making the desire to access content more enticing too. Some may even see it as a challenge to find ways around the restrictions. Tiffany, 16, told us:

[I] don’t know if they [restrictions] actually work that much ‘cause I feel like where people lock something or disallow something it makes [them] want to look at it more, and see it more, so I feel it’s more incentive.

More relevant measures than age

Interestingly, some teens suggest that maturity would be a better measure of emotional and cognitive readiness for content than age. Tiffany put it this way:

[because] some people, they could be 13 or 14, and they could act much older than they are, and have an intellectual level much higher than their age, and then some people could be that same age, but their intellectual level is much younger. So, there’s a big variation in people’s personalities and their lives and how they think.

However, they conceded this would be very difficult to measure.

Teens were supportive of protections for younger children consistent with New Zealand research. Levi (pre-teen) said:

There’s probably a certain age that’s too young to see certain things like violence or sexually explicit content like pornography.

However, they also argue that for older teens there may be benefit to accessing both sexual content and social media for educational purposes, particularly for sexual information.

Teens argue that independence and autonomy is key in these crucial years of development as emerging adults. Tiffany said

[Teens] can’t really be their own person if somebody doesn’t have trust in them and let them have their own independence. It’s a necessity for somebody to be able to grow into their own person.

Many participants stressed they are able to self-regulate. Arguably, teens will inevitably access content, whether it be social media or sexual content online, and benefit from chances to build these skills.

What lessons need to be learned?

Such measures often overlook young people’s fundamental rights, including their sexual rights, and policymakers need to consider the views of young people themselves. Until recently, these views have been strikingly absent from these debates but represent valuable contributions that should be appropriately considered and integrated into future plans.

Findings indicate there is a growing need to separate older teens from children in policy. Teens also overwhemingly recognised education (including digital literacy and lessons relating to sexual health and behaviours) in offline and online spaces as powerful tools – that should not be withheld or restricted unnecessarily.

Giselle Woodley, Lecturer and Research Fellow, Edith Cowan University and Paul Haskell-Dowland, Professor of Cyber Security Practice, Edith Cowan University

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

Year 12 Students across Australia will receive their ATARs this week and next. It’s a significant moment, with the ATAR often dominating media coverage of schooling at this time of year.

But as the 2025 results come in, it’s worth taking a closer look at the ATAR’s evolving role and relevance.

Our new report looks closely at who uses the ATAR, who doesn’t, and what that means for students and universities.

What is the ATAR?

The ATAR or Australian Tertiary Admission Rank is a number between 0 and 99.95 showing how a student performed in their scaled Year 12 subjects compared to all students in their age group (students who get between 0 and 30 are told they received “30 or less”).

Scaling is the process that adjusts Year 12 subject results so they can be compared fairly.

So the ATAR is a ranking, not a mark. An ATAR of 70.00 means the student is ahead of 70% of their age group – not that they achieved 70% on their school assessments.

Universities use the ATAR to compare students from different schools, subjects and states, to help select applicants for certain courses.

Who is using it?

Not all Year 12 students intend to go to university. Many pursue apprenticeships, vocational education or full-time work instead.

In 2024, 64% of Australia’s Year 12 students received an ATAR. This varies significantly across states and territories, from 79% in New South Wales and 72% in Victoria to 38% in Western Australia.

To get an ATAR students must select an the ATAR pathway and complete the required combination of subjects. Students who don’t do this can still receive their senior secondary certificate, to say they have completed school.

The proportion of students receiving an ATAR has been trending down in Victoria and Western Australia since 2019, with South Australia the only state showing an increase.

The result is a national system where the ATAR is prominent but far from universal.

What about uni entry?

Even for many students who go straight from school to university, the ATAR is not always relevant. In 2023, for recent school leavers (those who have completed Year 12 in the previous three years) who used their school credentials as a basis for entry:

• 63% were admitted on their ATAR alone

• 7% used their ATAR plus additional criteria. For example, an extra test, portfolio or audition

• 30% were admitted solely on the basis of other (non-ATAR) criteria.

So the ATAR was not considered at all for 30% of Australians who started their undergraduate degree based on their recent secondary school certificate. And this group represents only part of the picture.

This is because for nearly half of all students commencing a bachelor’s degree, universities do not consider recent secondary school education. These students enter via bridging or enabling programs, work experience, vocational education and training, or previous tertiary study including those who change courses. For these students, the ATAR is not recorded as playing any part in the admission process.

Universities use the ATAR in very different ways

Australia’s 39 public universities also use the ATAR in very different ways. For example, at one institution, admissions out of Year 12 rely almost solely on the ATAR. At another, this drops to around 10%.

Group of Eight universities (which include some of Australia’s most prestigious universities, such as the University of Sydney and University of Melbourne), remain the most ATAR-reliant. Many regional universities draw heavily on alternative entry schemes.

It also depends what field of study we are talking about. Engineering, science and IT courses tend to use the ATAR most heavily. Creative arts, education and agriculture courses lean more on other selection criteria such as portfolios, interviews and auditions.

Students’ background and the ATAR

The use of ATAR for admission to university also varies by student background. The likelihood of using a non-ATAR pathway increases with the level of student disadvantage.

Our analysis shows 39% of low-socioeconomic status (SES) school-leaver entrants and more than half of Indigenous entrants enter via non-ATAR criteria. This is compared to 26% of high-SES entrants and 30% of non-Indigenous entrants.

Evidence shows the ATAR can reproduce and amplify inequality when it is used as the primary measure of student achievement.

Where to from here?

Our analysis shows a national admissions system that is diversifying. Schools and universities now use a wider mix of pathways to recognise student capability. The ATAR is certainly part of this system, but it’s not the single route into tertiary study.

This suggests students and their families need clear and early guidance. They should understand from early high school how different pathways connect to different futures – including where an ATAR is needed and where it is not. Then they can make more confident decisions about subjects, qualifications and careers.

This matters for education policy as well. The task is not to replace the ATAR, but to ensure the policy settings around it keep pace with reality.

Melinda Hildebrandt, Education Policy Fellow, Mitchell Institute, Victoria University; Anne Walstab, Senior Research Fellow, Mitchell Institute/Centre for International Research on Education Systems, Victoria University, and Sarah Pilcher, Director, Peter Noonan Policy Impact Program, Mitchell Institute, Victoria University

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

We already know excessive smartphone use affects people’s mental health and their relationships.

But when new parents use digital technologies during care giving, they might also compromise their baby’s development.

Smartphone use in the presence of infants is associated with a range of negative developmental outcomes, including threats to the formation of a secure attachment.

The transition into parenthood is an ideal time for healthy behaviour change. Expectant parents see a range of professionals, but as we found in our new study, they don’t receive any co-ordinated support or advice on managing digital devices in babies’ presence.

One of the new mums we interviewed said:

Literally nothing has come up around […] screen time, or especially breastfeeding and things like that […] it’s interesting because it’s such a big part of our lives.

Another participant said:

I haven’t had anyone talk to me about tech use, at all.

Adult smartphone use is not mentioned in well-child checks. We argue this is a missed public health opportunity.

Secure attachment is important for a baby’s development. They need hours of gazing at their families’ faces to optimally wire their brains. This is more likely when the parent is sensitive to a baby’s cues and emotionally available.

But ubiquitous smartphone use by caregivers has the potential to disrupt attachment by interrupting this sensitivity and availability.

Babies’ central nervous system and senses are immature. But they are born into a rapidly moving world, filled with voices and faces from digital sources. This places a burden on caregivers to act as a human filter between a newborn’s neurobiology and digital distractions.

Disrupting relationships

Psychologists have described the phenomenon of frequent disruptions and distractions during parenting – and the disconnection of the in-person relationship – as “technoference”.

A caregiver’s eyes are no longer on the infant but on the device. Their attention in gone, in a state described as “absent presence”, and the phone becomes a “social pollution”.

It’s unpleasant for anyone on the other side of this imbalance. But for babies, whose connection to their significant adults is the only thing that can make them feel safe enough to learn and grow optimally, it causes disproportionate harm because of their vulnerable developmental stage.

During the rapid phase of brain growth in infancy, babies are wired to seek messages of safety from their caregiver’s face. Smartphone use blanks caregivers’ facial expressions in ways that cause physiological stress to babies.

When a caregiver uses their phone while feeding an infant, babies are more likely to be overfed. The number of audible notifications on a parent’s device relates to a child’s language development, with more alerts associated with fewer words at 18 months.

If that’s not reason enough to reign in phone use, evidence also shows that smartphone use can be a source of stress and guilt for parents. This suggests parents themselves would benefit from more purposeful and reduced smartphone habits.

Some public health researchers are urging healthcare workers to consider the parent-infant relationship in addition to the respective health of the baby and caregiver themselves.

This relational space between people is suffering as a result of the social pollution of smartphone-distracted care. Babies’ brains grow so fast, we mustn’t let this process be compromised by the distraction of the attention economy.

Our research shows new parents could use information and support around the use of digital devices. We also recommend that other family members modify their smartphone habits around a new baby. Whānau can create a family media plan and make sure they have someone to talk to about this issue.

Health policies should focus on early investment in parents and children, by prioritising education and action on smartphone use around babies. This would benefit the wellbeing of new parents and the lifelong development of infants.

Miriam McCaleb, Fellow in Public Health, University of Canterbury

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

When pregnant women drink water that comes from wells downstream of sites contaminated with PFAS, known as “forever chemicals,” the risks to their babies’ health substantially increase, a new study found. These risks include the chance of low birth weight, preterm birth and infant mortality.

Even more troubling, our team of economic researchers and hydrologists found that PFAS exposure increases the likelihood of extremely low-weight and extremely preterm births, which are strongly associated with lifelong health challenges.

What wells showed us about PFAS risks

PFAS, or perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances, have captured the attention of the public and regulators in recent years for good reason. These man-made compounds persist in the environment, accumulate in human bodies and may cause harm even at extremely low concentrations.

Most current knowledge about the reproductive effects of PFAS comes from laboratory studies on animals such as rats, or from correlations between PFAS levels in human blood and health outcomes.

Both approaches have important limitations. Rats and humans have different bodies, exposures and living conditions. And independent factors, such as kidney functioning, may in some cases be the true drivers of health problems.

We wanted to learn about the effects of PFAS on real-world human lives in a way that comes as close as possible to a randomized experiment. Intentionally exposing people to PFAS would be unethical, but the environment gave us a natural experiment of its own.

We looked at the locations of wells that supply New Hampshire residents with drinking water and how those locations related to birth outcomes.

We collected data on all births in the state from 2010 to 2019 and zoomed in on the 11,539 births that occurred within 3.1 miles (5 kilometers) of a site known to be contaminated with PFAS and where the mothers were served by public water systems. Some contamination came from industries, other from landfills or firefighting activities.

PFAS from contaminated sites slowly migrate down through soil into groundwater, where they move downstream with the groundwater’s flow. This created a simple but powerful contrast: pregnant women whose homes received water from wells that were downstream, in groundwater terms, from the PFAS source were likely to have been exposed to PFAS from the contaminated site, but those who received water from wells that were upstream of those sites should not have been exposed.

Using outside data on PFAS testing, we confirmed that PFAS levels were indeed greater in “downstream” wells than in “upstream” wells.

The locations of utilities’ drinking water wells are sensitive data that are not publicly available, so the women likely would not have known whether they were exposed. Prior to the state beginning to test for PFAS in 2016, they may not have even known the nearby site had PFAS.

PFAS connections to the riskiest births

We found what we believe is clear evidence of harm from PFAS exposure.

Women who received water from wells downstream of PFAS-contaminated sites had on average a 43% greater chance of having a low-weight baby, defined as under 5.5 pounds (2,500 grams) at birth, than those receiving water from upstream wells with no other PFAS sources nearby. Those downstream had a 20% greater chance of a preterm birth, defined as before 37 weeks, and a 191% greater chance of the infant not surviving its first year.

Per 100,000 births, this works out to 2,639 additional low-weight births, 1,475 additional preterm births and 611 additional deaths in the first year of life.

Looking at the cases with the lowest birth weights and earliest preterm births, we found that the women receiving water from wells downstream from PFAS sources had a 180% greater chance of a birth under 2.2 pounds (1,000 grams) and a 168% greater chance of a birth before 28 weeks than those with upstream wells. Per 100,000 births, that’s about 607 additional extremely low-weight births and 466 additional extremely preterm births.

PFAS contamination is costly

When considering regulations to control PFAS, it helps to express the benefits of PFAS cleanup in monetary terms to compare them to the costs of cleanup.

Researchers use various methods to put a dollar value on the cost of low-weight and preterm births based on their higher medical bills, lower subsequent health and decreased lifetime earnings.

We used the New Hampshire data and locations of PFAS-contaminated sites in 11 other states with detailed PFAS testing to estimate costs from PFAS exposure nationwide related to low birth weight, preterm births and infant mortality.

The results are eye-opening. We estimate that the effects of PFAS on each year’s low-weight births cost society about US$7.8 billion over the lifetimes of those babies, with more babies born every year.

We found the effects of PFAS on preterm births and infant mortality cost the U.S. about $5.6 billion over the lifetimes of those babies born each year, with some of these costs overlapping with the costs associated with low-weight births.

An analysis produced for the American Water Works Association estimated that removing PFAS from drinking water to meet the EPA’s PFAS limits would cost utilities alone $3.8 billion on an annual basis. These costs could ultimately fall on water customers, but the broader public also bears much of the cost of harm to fetuses.

We believe that just the reproductive health benefits of protecting water systems from PFAS contamination could justify the EPA’s rule.

Treating PFAS

There is still much to learn about the risks from PFAS and how to avoid harm.

We studied the health effects of PFOA and PFOS, two “long-chain” species of PFAS that were the most widely used types in the U.S. They are no longer produced in the U.S., but they are still present in soil and groundwater. Future work could focus on newer, “short-chain” PFAS, which may have different health impacts.

PFAS are in many types of products, and there are many routes for exposure, including through food. Effective treatment to remove PFAS from water is an area of ongoing research, but the long-chain PFAS we studied can be removed from water with activated carbon filters, either at the utility level or inside one’s home.

Our results indicate that pregnant women have special reason to be concerned about exposure to long-chain PFAS through drinking water. If pregnant women suspect their drinking water may contain PFAS, we believe they should strongly consider installing water filters that can remove PFAS and then replacing those filters on a regular schedule.

Derek Lemoine, Professor of Economics, University of Arizona; Ashley Langer, Professor of Economics, University of Arizona, and Bo Guo, Associate Professor of Hydrology, University of Arizona

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

We often throw caution to the cold, dark wind of December when it comes to spending. The cost-of-living crisis may slip our minds amid the razzle-dazzle of Christmas. We just want a moment to enjoy ourselves, to forget about the winter gloom. It’s natural for us to behave this way. Our brains are wired for it.

People in the UK spend on average an extra £700 at Christmas. The UK Office for National Statistics show increases of between 15% and 100% in the sale of books, music, computers, phones and electrical products, clothing and shoes, cosmetics and toiletries, food and alcohol in December.

But neuromarketing, a field of neuroscience that understands the way our brains respond to products, can help us to resist the urge to overspend.

The reasons we buy so much at Christmas are largely unconscious and emotional. For example, our brains are wired to avoid being left out. Social bonds were vital to our ancestors’ survival so when everyone else seems to be buying stuff and enjoying themselves at Christmas, we are motivated by evolutionary impulses to want to join in.

Our desire for new things, even when they have no intrinsic value, has evolutionary roots too. Finding and keeping new information and objects make us feel like we’re reducing uncertainties about the future. So marketing a product as the “latest” version of its kind can make it seem irresistible.

Brain signals (neurotransmitters) alter our behaviour too. Dopamine drives our motivation and impulsivity for rewards. Oxytocin drives our sense of belonging, which can be stimulated by buying the same things as our friends. And cortisol levels may rise if we fear missing out.

These neurotransmitters direct our gaze when we look at adverts of products, holding our attention and then making us want to feel the reward of buying. In July 2025, researchers reviewed three years of eye-tracking data of study participants looking at the top 50 most attention-grabbing Christmas ads. They found heart-rending stories are great for capturing our attention, which make us more likely to buy the product. Images featuring emotional icons and cues such as popular celebrities, or lovable cartoon characters distract us. Distraction is known to stop us thinking about future goals (like saving money).

Why your willpower seems to evaporate

The 1970 Marshmallow Test on delayed gratification, developed by psychologist Walter Mischel, suggested that young children who could resist eating a marshmallow while the experimenter left the room would have more discipline in adulthood because their brains were wired for better self-control.

But a 2018 replication of the test found that family background and economic situation were the key factors in whether children and later adults could delay their gratification and be less impulsive (resist eating the marshmallow). So, if there is unrest in the family or money is tight at Christmas, this could lead to faster, impulsive decisions and paradoxically over-spending on larger quantities of items we don’t really need or want.

Psychological research suggests that our willpower is most depleted when we are tired, if we have a lot to think about, or if we are cold and in need. It is a bit like overworking a muscle that needs constant energy.

This is the perfect formula for distraction at Christmas. We think of all the family and friends to buy gifts for and seek solace in the comfort of nice goods and experiences at Christmas. All this overloads our cognitive control system in the prefrontal cortex – the front part of the brain under the forehead that helps us to control our behaviour by thinking about our long-term goals. And the prefrontal cortex connects directly to the reward centre of the brain. So if the prefrontal cortex is overloaded, the dopamine-driven, fast and impulsive reward responses are likely to take over.

Fast, impulsive thinking and slow, deliberate thinking are both part of the brain’s natural activity. Christmas shopping plays on this fast, impulsive thinking. Think of time-limited deals and the sense of crisis if a child or loved one loses out on a much-desired gift.

Training our brains

Nevertheless there are ways we can strengthen our willpower to enjoy the season with a sense of balance. The key is becoming conscious of our emotions and our actions. The more we consciously notice our impulsivity, the better we will be at controlling it next time.

You could start right now by noting down any impulsive purchases you have made over the last week or month. And next time you go to buy something, ask yourself whether you are using slow or fast thinking.

And since the prefrontal cortex system is like a muscle that can be trained to be stronger. Cognitive training on the run up to Christmas may help strengthen your resolve. Think of playing chess online, or sudoku, or reading one of the books you might have been given last Christmas. Puzzles, reading, meditation practices that slow the mind, can all strengthen your brain’s circuits, and maybe help to be less impulsive this year.

And what about if you’re reading this while you’re in a cafe, taking a break from Christmas shopping? You can review your shopping list (or write one before you leave home) and reaffirm your plans. Remind yourself to stick to the list and budget no matter what. Research shows that planning and setting intentions prevents impulsive responses, especially if people plan a contingency in advance about what they will do if they spot a bright, shiny bargain.

If you can rein in impulsive Christmas purchases now, your future self will thank you for it.

Samantha Brooks, Associate Professor of Cognitive Neuroscience, Liverpool John Moores University

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

Thriving Kids is a planned national program for children aged eight and under with developmental delay or autism who are assessed as having low to moderate support needs.

The idea is to move these children out of the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) and into the new program, with its first services expected from July 2026.

The final design of the program, which is to receive A$2 billion in Commonwealth funding over five years, is still being settled with states and territories.

Now a new survey shows parents and carers have strong ideas about how to design Thriving Kids to make it successful.

We asked parents and carers

Many parents and carers of children with disability and the broader disability community have been critical of the Thriving Kids announcement. Some feared that by moving out of the NDIS and into the new program children might lose out on important supports at a crucial point in their development.

A week after Thriving Kids was announced in August 2025, Children and Young People with Disability Australia, the peak organisation representing the rights and interests of children and young people with disability, conducted a national online survey.

The survey asked what supports families use now, what they’d need under Thriving Kids, how often they’d use them, and how they feel about the proposal. We analysed and helped interpret the results.

There were 1,535 responses. This article focuses on the 1,235 responses from children and young people, and their parents and carers.

Of these, 91% were parents or carers, most caring for a child aged nine or under. Among those who identified their disability, 81% reported autism and 60% ADHD (attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder), often together.

Here’s what respondents told us.

1. Families want continuity and clear guarantees

Respondents asked for protection that no child would be worse off by moving to Thriving Kids. They wanted a single point of access and little red tape. They also wanted to keep trusted clinicians through the transitions between Thriving Kids and the NDIS. As one parent said:

my kids will [lose] vital people they have taken a long […] time [to] get to know. They […] trust them and actually help our children.

So Thriving Kids needs to put “no‑worse‑off” protections in writing, and keep current clinicians where relationships are working. The pathway beyond age nine needs to be explicit and seamless.

2. Design it with lived experience

Families were clear that language and process matter, and that people with disability must shape the program from the start, not be consulted after the fact. One person said:

The program is not evidence based and not co-designed with families. Shouldn’t we get a right to say what supports suit our children?

That means co‑designing Thriving Kids with people with lived experience of disability and their families and carers – in governance, safeguards and evaluation, not just in messaging.

3. Supports must be neuro‑affirming

Respondents asked for help that respects neurodivergent ways of being and avoids approaches that teach masking or “passing” as neurotypical. Many carers don’t want autistic children to attend therapies and groups based on a contested approach called “applied behaviour analysis”. One parent said:

I don’t want her disability to be ‘trained out of her’ or encourage masking.

So Thriving Kids needs to publish guardrails that exclude approaches that push for conformity to neurotypical standards.

4. A broad mix across flexible settings works best

Core allied health sits at the heart of what people asked for – occupational therapy, speech pathology, psychology and physiotherapy. They also asked for peer networks, parenting programs, skills groups, assistive technology and support for children who cannot attend school (known as school-can’t responses).

Families want these delivered where children live and learn. As one parent said:

Teachers need a better education program for handling kids with disabilities. I waste [NDIS] funding educating teachers on how to handle autistic children and how not to become part of the problem.

So Thriving Kids needs a broad, flexible menu of supports that help children participate and feel safe – at home, in early learning, at school and in the community.

That includes embedding allied health in early learning and schools to coach staff and adjust environments, while preserving one‑to‑one therapy and out‑of‑school options for home‑schoolers and students unable to attend.

5. Resource for equity

There is less access to supports and services in regional and remote areas and for First Nations, multicultural and LGBTIQA+ families. Waiting lists are long, travel is costly and choice is thin.

One parent said:

In the country, the therapists don’t exist to embed anywhere.

Families from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds also asked for interpreters, translated plain-language materials, and options to choose the gender of their clinician.

So Thriving Kids needs to commission services in regional areas, with outreach and telehealth. It needs to invest in culturally safe models, including interpreters and bilingual clinicians. It also needs to train and support schools without shifting costs to families.

What next?

If Thriving Kids delivers on these priorities, it could potentially improve services for children with disability and their families.

If it doesn’t, families will be left to navigate yet another complex system while needs go unmet.

Families, children and young people told us, with striking consistency, what would help. The task now is to build Thriving Kids with them and to guarantee no child is worse off.

Catherine Smith, Senior Lecturer of Wellbeing Science, The University of Melbourne and Helen Dickinson, Professor, Public Service Research, UNSW Sydney

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

China routinely sends astronauts to and from its space station Tiangong. A crew capsule is about to undock from the station and return to Earth, but there’s nothing routine about its journey home.

The Shenzhou-20 capsule will carry no crew, because one of its windows has been struck by space debris. Astronauts noticed an apparent crack on November 5, during pre-return checks.

Space journalist Andrew Jones explained how experts on the ground had studied images of the damage and concluded that a piece of debris smaller than 1mm (roughly 1/25th of an inch) had penetrated from the outer to inner layers of the glass.

Simulations and tests confirmed a low probability that the window could fail during the high-temperature re-entry through Earth’s atmosphere. Although a worst-case scenario, it was one that officials deemed unacceptable. A rescue mission – Shenzhou-22 – was launched to bring the astronauts back from the station.

Experts have been warning about the threat posed by space debris for years. The ever-growing number of space programmes by states and private entities is now contributing to an increasingly congested environment in orbit.

The European Space Agency estimates that there are more than 15,100 tonnes of material in space that has been launched from Earth. There are 1.2 million debris objects between 1cm and 10cm, and 140 million debris objects between 1mm and 1cm.

In low orbit they will be travelling around 7.6 km/s (roughly 17,000 miles per hour), damaging anything they hit. This is how a piece less than 1mm in size was able to penetrate the thick glass of Shenzhou-20’s capsule.

Given the mounting number of objects in orbit, this is likely to be a more regular occurrence. It’s costly in terms of damage to equipment, and increasingly a threat to life. When a piece of debris hits another object in space, it can also create more space debris, adding to the problem.

A number of countries are able to track what’s in space, but given that these may include classified satellites, there is a reluctance by states to share details. China’s space programme is overseen by its military, in line with a view that space is inherently linked to national security. This only adds to the geopolitical tensions between states around the use of space.

Treaties and responsibilities

The outer space treaty from 1967 sought to outline how space should be governed. But it is outdated and does not account for the increased presence of debris or the proliferation of private space launches. Nor does it address responsibilities when it comes to the sustainable use of space.

A total of 117 states are parties to the treaty, yet while efforts are ongoing to develop new norms around space governance, including the creation of the Inter-Agency Space Debris Coordination Committee, the organisation may offer a platform for cooperation and research but does not result in binding decisions for state action. The lack of any global agreement on space debris, and more importantly repercussions, makes tackling the problem of space debris even harder.

Technology is being developed to address space debris – but this generally appears as concept mission plans with only a few trial tests being launched anywhere globally. Examples include the idea of a harpoon to collect large pieces – although the recoil of such an instrument means the spacecraft that deploys it could become a new piece of debris.

An alternative is the highly technological approach of a big net. This will work in the sense that if you can slow the debris down, it will fall into the atmosphere and burn up.

The problem with these methods is the lack of sustainability, sending one satellite up to bring only a few pieces down uses up fuel, which is adding to climate variation. An appropriate and efficient solution would be a constellation of satellites that stay in orbit and bring debris down. The process, of course, is still something to be researched.

A ground-based solution is the laser broom, which uses laser pulses to slow down objects orbiting Earth, potentially allowing them to re-enter the atmosphere and burn up. However, it is yet to be tested and comes with its own potential problems such as atmospheric warming and missing its target.

Yet without addressing the geopolitics of space governance, the removal of space debris is moot as a focus on national interests, security concerns, and the increasing presence of the private sector means that pollution in Earth orbit is happening faster than we can clean it up.

Any collisions cause many more pieces to be produced than can be collected, some notable examples include the destruction in 2007, by China, of its own Fengyun-1C satellite as part of an anti-satellite weapon test. This added an estimated 3,500 pieces in orbit.

In 2009, a Russian satellite called Kosmos 2251 collided with an Iridium communications satellite, generating roughly 2,400 pieces of debris. In 2021, Russia carried out its own anti-satellite missile test, destroying the Kosmos 1408 satellite and generating a further 1,787 pieces. These mostly came back through the atmosphere, but 400 pieces were left in orbit.

Whether such an anti-satellite weapon could be repurposed for space debris removal is unlikely but has potential.

It will require concerted global cooperation and effort to not only indicate what spacecraft states and private companies have in space, but to commit to de-orbiting every future spacecraft at the end of its life, reducing future debris.

The current space debris mitigation standards by the European Space Agency highlight that any satellites must be de-orbited within 25 years of the end of operations. While this also is intended to apply to miniature “cubesats” – the process of bringing them back down has yet to demonstrated.

Ultimately this debris will cause problems for all space launch agencies and private companies, as there is a limit to our ground-based tracking and warning abilities. This makes addressing the global governance of space critical. However, it may take several high-cost satellites being taken out of commission, or potentially loss of life, for this issue to be taken seriously.

Ian Whittaker, Senior Lecturer in Physics, Nottingham Trent University and Lesley Masters, Senior Lecturer in International Relations, Nottingham Trent University

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

As OpenAI marks its tenth birthday in December 2025, it can celebrate becoming one of the world’s leading companies, worth perhaps as much as US$1 trillion (£750 billion). But it started as a non-profit with a serious moral mission – and its story demonstrates the difficulty of combining morality with capitalism.

The firm recently became a “public benefit corporation”, meaning that – in addition to performing some sort of pubic good – it now has a duty to make money for its shareholders, such as Microsoft.

That’s quite a change from the original set up.

Influenced by a movement known as “effective altruism”, a project which tries to find the most effective ways of helping others, OpenAI’s initial mission was to “ensure that artificial general intelligence […] benefits all of humanity” – including preventing rogue AI systems from enslaving or extinguishing the human race.

Being a non-profit was central to that mission. If pushing AI in dangerous directions was the best way to make money, a profit-seeking company would do it, but a non-profit wouldn’t. As CEO Sam Altman said in 2017: “We don’t ever want to be making decisions to benefit shareholders. The only people we want to be accountable to is humanity as a whole.”

So what changed?

Some argue that the company simply sold out – that Altman and his colleagues faced a choice between making a fortune or sticking to their principles, and took the money. (Many of OpenAI’s founders and early employees chose to leave the company instead.)

But there is another explanation. Perhaps OpenAI realised that to fulfil its moral mission, it needed to make money. After all, AI is a very expensive business, and OpenAI’s rivals – the likes of Google, Amazon and Meta – are vast corporations with deep pockets.

To have a chance of influencing AI development in a positive direction, OpenAI had to compete with them. To compete, it needed investment. And it’s hard to attract investment with no prospect of profit.

As Altman said of a previous adjustment towards profit-making: “We had tried and failed enough to raise the money as a non-profit. We didn’t see a path forward there. So we needed some of the benefits of capitalism.”

Capitalist competition

But along with the benefits of capitalism come constraints. What Karl Marx called the “coercive laws of competition” mean that in a competitive market, businesses have little choice but to put profit first, whatever their moral principles.

Indeed, if they choose not to do something profitable out of moral concerns, they know they’ll be replaced by a less scrupulous firm which will. This means not only that they fail as a business, but that they fail in their moral mission too.

The philosopher Iris Marion Young, illustrated this paradox with the example of a sweatshop owner who claims that they would love to treat their workers better. But the cost of improved pay and conditions would make them less competitive, meaning they lose out to rivals who treat their workers even worse. So being kinder to their workers would not do any good.

Similarly, had OpenAI held back from releasing ChatGPT due to worries about energy usage or self-harm or misinformation, it would probably have lost market share to another company. This in turn would have made it harder to raise the investment it needed to fulfil their mission of shaping AI development for good.

So in effect, even when its moral mission was supposedly paramount (before it became a public benefit corporation), OpenAI was already acting like a for-profit firm. It needed to, to stay competitive.

The recent legal transition just makes this official. The fact that a nonprofit board dedicated to the moral mission retains some control over the company in principle is unlikely to stop the drive to profit in practice. Marx’s coercive laws of competition squeeze morality out of business.

Marx and Milton

If Marx is capitalism’s most famous critic, perhaps its most famous cheerleader was the economist Milton Friedman.

But Friedman actually agreed with Marx that business and morals are difficult to mix. In 1971, he wrote that business executives have only one social responsibility: to make profit for shareholders.

Pursuing any other goal would be spending other people’s money on their own private principles. And in a competitive market, Friedman argued, businesspeople will find that customers and investors can quickly switch to other companies “less scrupulous in exercising their social responsibilities”.

All of this suggests that we cannot expect businesses to do as OpenAI originally promised, and put humanity before shareholder value. Even if it tries, the coercive laws of competition will force it to seek profit.

Friedman and Marx would have further agreed that we need other types of institutions to look after humanity. Though Friedman was mostly sceptical about the state, the AI arms race is precisely the kind of case that even he recognised required government regulation.

For Marx, the solution is more radical: replacing the coercive laws of competition with a more co-operative economic system. And my own research suggests that safeguarding the future of humanity may indeed require some restraining of capitalism , to allow tech workers time to develop safe and ethical technologies together, free from the pressures of the market.

Nikhil Venkatesh, Leverhulme Early Career Fellow, University of Sheffield

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

The digital revolution has become a vast, unplanned experiment – and children are its most exposed participants. As ADHD diagnoses rise around the world, a key question has emerged: could the growing use of digital devices be playing a role?

To explore this, we studied more than 8,000 children, from when they were around ten until they were 14 years of age. We asked them about their digital habits and grouped them into three categories: gaming, TV/video (YouTube, say) and social media.

The latter included apps such as TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, X, Messenger and Facebook. We then analysed whether usage was associated with long-term change in the two core symptoms of ADHD: inattentiveness and hyperactivity.

Our main finding was that social media use was associated with a gradual increase in inattentiveness. Gaming or watching videos was not. These patterns remained the same even after accounting for children’s genetic risk for ADHD and their families’ income.

We also tested whether inattentiveness might cause children to use more social media instead. It didn’t. The direction ran one way: social media use predicted later inattentiveness.

The mechanisms of how digital media affects attention are unknown. But the lack of negative effect of other screen activities means we can rule out any general, negative effect of screens as well as the popular notion that all digital media produces “dopamine hits”, which then mess with children’s attention.

As cognitive neuroscientists, we could make an educated guess about the mechanisms. Social media introduces constant distractions, preventing sustained attention to any task.

If it is not the messages themselves that distract, the mere thought of whether a message has arrived can act as a mental distraction. These distractions impair focus in the moment, and when they persist for months or years, they may also have long-term effects.

Gaming, on the other hand, takes place during limited sessions, not throughout the day, and involves a constant focus on one task at a time.

The effect of social media, using statistical measures, was not large. It was not enough to push a person with normal attention into ADHD territory. But if the entire population becomes more inattentive, many will cross the diagnostic border.

Theoretically, an increase of one hour of social media use in the entire population would increase the diagnoses by about 30%. This is admittedly a simplification, since diagnoses depend on many factors, but it illustrates how even an effect that is small at the individual level can have a significant effect when it affects an entire population.

A lot of data suggests that we have seen at least one hour more per day of social media during the last decade or two. Twenty years ago, social media barely existed. Now, teenagers are online for about five hours per day, mostly with social media.

The percentage of teenagers who claim to be “constantly online” has increased from 24% in 2015 to 46% 2023. Given that social media use has risen from essentially zero to around five hours per day, it may explain a substantial part of the increase in ADHD diagnoses during the past 15 years.

The attention gap

Some argue that the rise in the number of ADHD diagnoses reflects greater awareness and reduced stigma. That may be part of the story, but it doesn’t rule out a genuine increase in inattention.

Also, some studies that claim that the symptoms of inattention have not increased have often studied children who were probably too young to own a smartphone, or a period of years that mostly predates the avalanche in scrolling.

Social media probably increases inattention, and social media use has rocketed. What now? The US requires children to be at least 13 to create an account on most social platforms, but these restrictions are easy to outsmart.

Australia is currently going the furthest. From December 10 2025, media companies will be required to ensure that users are 16 years or above, with high penalties for the companies that do not adhere. Let’s see what effect that legislation will have. Perhaps the rest of the world should follow the Australians.

Torkel Klingberg, Professor of Cognitive Neuroscience, Karolinska Institutet and Samson Nivins, Postdoctoral Researcher, Women's and Children's Health, Karolinska Institutet

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

Most Australians have probably noticed the proliferation of tobacconists and “convenience stores” in the last few years. These stores aren’t making much from the limited offerings on public display. Rather, their profitability comes from under-the-counter sales of untaxed tobacco and illegal vapes.

The growth of illegal tobacco sales has reached the point where the national accounts produced by the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) have been significantly distorted. The ABS has announced it is taking steps to

measure the consumption of illicit nicotine-related products to supplement existing measurement.

The extent of illicit consumption, and the associated loss of revenue is, by its nature, hard to measure. The Australian Taxation Office estimated a net loss of over A$3 billion in 2023-24, but this amount has almost certainly risen since then.

Where the - illegal - profits are

Before looking at how this decision will affect the national accounts, it’s worth asking how we got here. The short answer is that, over the past decade or so, the tobacco excise has been steadily increased to the point where there are big profits to be made from dodging the tax.

But that’s not the whole story. Taxes on spirits have also been raised substantially. At the current rate of $106/litre of alcohol plus GST, tax makes up around two-thirds of the price of a typical bottle of spirits, similar to the case with tobacco.

Yet we haven’t seen a return of the “sly grog” shops that were common in Australia until the 1960s, when the 6pm closing of pubs was abolished. And despite heavy taxes on gambling, illegal casinos seem to be a thing of the past.

What explains this difference? The sale of alcohol and gambling services is subject to licensing restrictions, managed by state authorities and enforced by police.

By contrast, until very recently, nicotine products have been treated as normal grocery items. Enforcement was limited until state governments started tightening up the law with changes that have just come into effect.

The states have begun shutting down tobacconists found to be breaching it, and even threatened jail for landlords.

The Australian Taxation Office, along with the Australian Border Force, makes serious efforts to prevent illegal importation of tobacco products, as well as seizing tobacco crops grown here. But it appears unable or unwilling to do much against retailers who sell cigarettes under the counter.

State police forces have been slow to enforce the law.

Their reluctance here contrasts with the reasonably effective licensing enforcement of alcohol and with the stringent measures taken against suspected users of drugs like ecstasy.

But the imbalance between the incentive to dodge the tax and the risks of being caught remains. Until it is resolved, the federal government would do well to defer planned further increases in taxation.

A question that remains open is whether the growth of illegal tobacco has led to an increase in smoking. Evidence here is mixed. A government survey in 2022-23 showed a continued decline in smoking, alongside an increase in vaping.

However, a more recent Roy Morgan survey suggests an increase of smoking among young people as a result of the vaping ban.

How to account for the shadow economy

Now, back to the ABS. The objective in producing national accounts statistics such as gross domestic product (GDP) is to measure economic activity, giving a guide as to whether the economy is operating at full capacity. That’s important for the Reserve Bank in setting interest rates, but it isn’t a measure of wellbeing.

As critics have often pointed out, GDP pays no attention to whether the production being measured is socially desirable, neutral or harmful. Similarly, the ABS has always been aware that not all economic activity is legally recorded.

The solution, in the past, has been to add a 1.5% adjustment to GDP to take account of unrecorded (shadow economy) activity. There hasn’t been a perceived need for anything more detailed.

But with illicit tobacco estimated to be about 25% of sales in 2023-24 and higher now, this adjustment is no longer sufficient.

Both major supermarkets have said their tobacco sales have halved just in the past 12 months, the sharpest fall on record.

The ABS estimates growth in final household consumption expenditure has been underestimated by more than 0.5 percentage points over the past year, which is a big deal given the typical annual increase in consumption spending is around 5%.

Keeping pace with a changing economy

Finally, it’s worth noting this isn’t the only issue the ABS is looking at in response to an ever-changing economy.

As more and more households meet their electricity needs through rooftop solar, the ABS has faced a conceptual issue. This might be thought of as household production, like growing your own vegetables or cooking your own meals, which isn’t counted in GDP.

But the ABS has decided it’s better to regard solar rooftops as a home-based small business, whether the electricity is self-consumed or fed back into the grid.

As distinctions between home and work, and between licit and illicit production become increasingly blurred, statisticians will need to make more and more judgements like this.

John Quiggin, Professor, School of Economics, The University of Queensland

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

The pathway to reforming the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) is littered with obstacles.

Among the biggest challenges is the federal and state governments agreeing on responsibility and funding for “foundational supports”. These are disability-specific services for people who don’t qualify for individual NDIS funding.

There has been some progress on foundational supports for children with developmental delay and autism. The federal government’s Thriving Kids initiative is due to begin mid-2026.

But there has been no progress on non-NDIS foundational supports for people with “psychosocial disability”. This is disability that can result from mental health conditions such as schizophrenia, major depression or post-traumatic stress disorder, affecting the person’s ability to function.

Our new Grattan Institute report shows how Australia can build a national system of psychosocial supports within five years without spending any more money. This will require a clear vision, smart design choices and strong commitment from all governments.

What does psychosocial support look like?

Psychosocial supports are non-clinical supports that help people with mental health challenges live meaningful, independent lives in the community.

They include programs that help people to build social connections, learn skills, or maintain stable housing.

The personal, social and economic costs of not getting this support are significant – including reduced quality of life, fewer opportunities for community participation and lost productivity.

What’s the problem?

Almost 223,000 Australians aged 25–64 had a significant psychosocial disability in 2023.

Of those, almost 58,000 received psychosocial supports from the NDIS, with the scheme providing more than A$5.8 billion to support this group in the past year.

However a majority of people with significant psychosocial disability are below the NDIS eligibility threshold. And around 130,000 adults receive no support.

Access to non-NDIS supports is patchy

Federal, state and territory governments all fund small psychosocial support programs through their mental health systems. These are outside the NDIS.

Coverage is insufficient in all states and territories. The extent of support available depends far more on where you live than on your level of need.

Our analysis shows this variation is dramatic. There is a seven-fold difference in the proportion of people who receive psychosocial support outside the NDIS between Queensland (the highest) and Tasmania (the lowest).

There are also huge differences in the intensity of services offered. Queensland, for example, provides small amounts of support to relatively high numbers. In New South Wales, services reach very few people but provide more than ten times the number of hours per person.

A plan for more widespread support

Our new report proposes a new national program of psychosocial supports, which reflects evidence of what we know works. Examples of evidence-based services include:

• support facilitation to help people with their mental health journey, understand their needs and goals, and connect them with the disability, mental health and other social services they need

• community participation programs such as clubhouses and social or activity-based groups. These can offer a sense of belonging, improve confidence and support the development of social skills

• family psychosocial education, which helps families build skills and knowledge to support their loved ones

• support for people to manage housing and tenancies, and develop daily living skills.

How would the program work?

Our proposal is simple: fund a tier of psychosocial supports for people outside the NDIS.

Primary Health Networks (PHNs) are 31 health organisations across Australia that plan services to meet the needs of their local communities. They should be tasked with commissioning psychosocial supports, in collaboration with local providers, non-government organisations, state local hospital networks, and consumer and carer organisations.

Rather than perpetuating a postcode lottery, where access to psychosocial supports depends on where you live, a PHN-led approach could provide a clearer pathway to national consistency and equity.

A continuum of supports

This program would not replace the NDIS, which has an important ongoing role supporting people with the most intensive support needs.

A key feature of a more flexible and integrated system should also be the ability for people to “step down” from the NDIS to lower-intensity psychosocial supports outside the scheme – and to step back up again if their needs increase again.

We propose the use of “zero-dollar plans”, where a person is still in the NDIS system but doesn’t receive any funding. This would enable NDIS supports to be paused without affecting a person’s ongoing NDIS eligibility status. They could resume supports at a later stage without the need to reapply.

Why it doesn’t have to cost more

Previously we’ve shown the problem isn’t a lack of enough money in the system, it’s how it’s distributed.

Governments can fund a new program of psychosocial supports using the existing NDIS funding pool, which both the federal government and state/territory governments contribute to, rather than needing to spend more money.

Delivering these supports through the NDIS budget would ensure stable funding, provide a more equitable distribution of resources, and give all governments a stake in building a more balanced system.

In order to do this, governments would need to carefully redirect a small proportion of funding from NDIS supports that lack an evidence base towards the new program.

Success would reduce pressure on the NDIS: if psychosocial supports outside the NDIS help people live well, they could prevent, reduce or delay the need for an individualised package in future.

Governments should pivot from the current plan. This aims for federal and state/territory governments to commit to new funding for foundational supports, including psychosocial supports. Requiring new funding has led to two years of unnecessary delay.

A more practical approach is to spend existing NDIS funding better to meet the needs of more Australians with significant psychosocial disability.

Sam Bennett, Disability Program Director, Grattan Institute; Mia Jessurun, Associate, Disability Program, Grattan Institute, and Reilly Polaschek, Associate, Grattan Institute

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

The clock is ticking for the Commonwealth government to strike a new hospital funding deal with state and territory governments before its end-of-year deadline.

While states and territories are responsible for running Australia’s public hospitals, funding is split between the Commonwealth, and state and territory governments. The proportion of funding the Commonwealth contributes is at the centre of negotiations.

Negotiations so far have been predictably ugly. The states have hit out at the Commonwealth, saying much of the extra pressure comes from patients who are “stranded” in hospitals because they can’t get an aged care bed or appropriate disability accommodation, both of which are Commonwealth responsibilities.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has warned the states to rein in the growth of hospital funding if they want to strike a deal, which would be due to start in mid 2026.

The states say that’s unreasonable, with Queensland Premier Tim Nicholas asking:

Does he want us to go out there and close the front door to our emergency departments or stop taking ambulances delivering sick patients to our emergency wards?

As negotiations continue this week, so too will the “blame game”, where each side blames the other for problems in public hospitals.

So how did we get here? And what might happen next?

Equal funding under Whitlam

Fifty years ago Commonwealth-state relations in health were transformed when the Whitlam government introduced Medibank. Under Medibank, the Commonwealth shared public hospital costs equally with the states. This has remained the Holy Grail, at least for the states, of how the funding split should work.

The ink was barely dry on those new funding arrangements when the Whitlam government lost office and the incoming Fraser government started to dismantle Medibank.

Fast forward to 1984. The Hawke government reinstated universal health insurance with a new name, Medicare. However, it didn’t reintroduce hospital cost-sharing. Instead, it made a new agreement to compensate the states. Commonwealth grants to the states started increasing in line with population growth and wage and general inflation.

This insulated the Commonwealth from covering all the costs of activity increases, as the population started needing more hospital care. It also insulated the Commonwealth from meeting the costs of hospital-specific inflation, which tends to be higher than general inflation.

When it comes to public hospitals, everyone seems to be waiting – waiting for emergency care, waiting for elective surgery, waiting to get onto a ward. Private hospitals are also struggling. In this five-part series, experts explain what’s going wrong, how patients are impacted, and the potential solutions.

How hospital funding reforms failed

The states thought they had won the day when a new basis for funding was foreshadowed from 2012. Under the Rudd-Gillard formula, the Commonwealth agreed to meet 45% of the growth in public hospital costs, scheduled to increase to the magic 50%.

But the Commonwealth added an efficiency measure: it would only pay for growth at an independently set “national efficient price”. So rather than funding being based on population increases, it was to be based on “activity” – the number and type of patients treated, paid at the set price for that treatment. It also got a new name: the National Health Reform Agreement.

Unfortunately, this new approach was also consigned to the dumpster before it actually started, as the incoming Abbott government reverted to funding increases based simply on population and non-health inflation.

However, in 2016 Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull re-instituted the Commonwealth’s commitment to share the costs of the growth in public hospital services, though only at 45%. And even this was capped at maximum growth in funding of 6.5% per year.

So states were on the hook again if admissions grew faster than inflation, or health costs grew faster than general inflation, with the Commonwealth committing to only share growth up to the 6.5% cap.

Because the growth in costs has proven to be greater than the Commonwealth cap of 6.5%, the Commonwealth share has declined over time. By 2023-24, the latest year for which data are available, the Commonwealth share was only 38%, well short of the states’ aspiration of 50%.

So far from the Commonwealth share increasing over time, it has shrunk. States are picking up more and more of the growth in costs, squeezing state budgets and impacting patients’ access to care.

Didn’t Albanese ‘fix’ hospital funding?

The declining Commonwealth share led to pressure on the new Albanese government to put more money on the table for the next agreement, which it did. In December 2023, National Cabinet endorsed a Commonwealth proposal to increase its:

contributions to 45% over a maximum of a ten-year glide path from 1 July 2025, with an achievement of 42.5% before 2030.

It also:

endorsed the current 6.5% funding cap being replaced by a more generous approach that applies a cumulative cap over the period 2025-2030 […].

Importantly, under the new arrangements, the Commonwealth share would no longer be based on the share of the growth in costs. Rather, the Commonwealth’s share would be based on total costs rather than just the growth in costs – and this rate would increase over time.

But then a spanner was thrown into the works. The Commonwealth offer was based on historic growth in costs of around 6% per year. The independently determined growth in the national efficient price for 2025-26 was about twice that, blowing the Commonwealth estimates of the cost of its offer out of the water.

This, coupled with the Commonwealth linking increased health funding to increased state funding for disability services, meant negotiations ground to a halt.

The Albanese government extended the 2020-2025 plan by one year in the lead up to the May 2025 federal election.

What’s likely to happen next?

Commonwealth, state and territory government officials met yesterday for more negotiations but are yet to come to an agreement.

Eventually, there will be a compromise and a new agreement will be signed, perhaps with some commitments to improving public hospital efficiency.

The new deal will provide an overall increase in funding. But the states will continue to complain that is not enough.

The Commonwealth will quietly pat itself on the back that it has taken the hospital funding issue off the table for another few years.

Stephen Duckett, Honorary Enterprise Professor, School of Population and Global Health, and Department of General Practice and Primary Care, The University of Melbourne

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

About 50,000 years ago, humanity lost one of its last surviving hominin cousins, Homo floresiensis (also known as “the hobbit” thanks to its small stature). The cause of its disappearance, after more than a million years living on the isolated volcanic island of Flores, Indonesia, has been a longstanding mystery.

Now, new evidence suggests a period of extreme drought starting about 61,000 years ago may have contributed to the hobbits’ disappearance.

Our new study, published today in Communications Earth & Environment, reveals a story of ecological boom and bust. We’ve compiled the most detailed climate record to date for the site where these ancient hominins once lived.

It turns out that H. floresiensis and one of its primary prey, a pygmy elephant, were both forced away from home by a drought lasting thousands of years – and may have come face-to-face with the much larger Homo sapiens.

An island with deep caves

The discovery of H. floresiensis in 2003 changed our thinking on what makes us human. These diminutive small-brained hominins, standing only 1.1 metres tall, made stone tools. Against the odds, they reached Flores seemingly without boat technology.

Bones and stone tools from H. floresiensis were found in Liang Bua cave, hidden away in a small valley in the uplands of the island. These remains date to between 190,000 and 50,000 years ago.

Today, Flores has a monsoonal climate with heavy rainfall during wet summers (mostly from November to March) and lighter rain during drier winters (May to September).

However, during the last glacial period there would have been significant variation in both the amount of rainfall and when it arrived.

To find out what the rains were like, our team turned to a cave 700 metres upstream of Liang Bua named Liang Luar. By pure chance, deep inside the cave was a stalagmite that grew right through the H. floresiensis disappearance interval. As stalagmites grow layer by layer from dripping water, their changing chemical composition also records the history of a changing climate.

Palaeoclimatologists have two main geochemical tools when it comes to reconstructing past rainfall from stalagmites. By looking at a specific measure of oxygen known as d18O, we can see changes in monsoon strength. Meanwhile, the ratio of magnesium to calcium shows us the total rainfall amount.

We paired these measurements for the same samples, precisely anchored them in time, and reconstructed summer, winter and annual rainfall amounts. All this provided unprecedented insight into seasonal climate variability.

We found three key climate phases. It was wetter than today year-round between 91,000 and 76,000 years ago. Between 76,000 and 61,000 years ago, the monsoon was highly seasonal, with wetter summers and drier winters.

Then, between 61,000 and 47,000 years ago, the climate turned much drier in summer, similar to that seen in Southern Queensland today.

The hobbits followed their prey

So we had a well-dated record of major climate change, but what was the ecological response, if any? We needed to build a precise timeline for the fossil evidence of H. floresiensis at Liang Bua.

The solution came unexpectedly from our analysis of d18O in the fossil tooth enamel of Stegodon florensis insularis, a distant extinct pygmy relative of modern elephants.

Juvenile pygmy elephants were one of the hobbits’ key prey, as revealed by cut marks on bones in Liang Bua.

Remarkably, the d18O pattern in the Liang Luar stalagmite and in teeth from increasingly deep sedimentary deposits at Liang Bua aligned perfectly. This allowed us to precisely date the Stegodon fossils and the accompanying remains of H. floresiensis.

The refined timeline showed that about 90% of pygmy elephant remains date to 76,000–61,000 years ago, during the strongly seasonal “Goldilocks” climate. This may have been the ideal environment for the pygmy elephants to graze and for H. floresiensis to hunt them. But both species almost disappeared as the climate got drier.

The decline in rainfall, pygmy elephants and hobbits all at the same time indicates that dwindling resources played a crucial role in what appears to be a progressive abandonment of Liang Bua.

As the climate dried, the primary dry-season water source, the small Wae Racang river, may have dwindled too low, leaving the Stegodon without fresh water. The animals may have migrated out of the area, with H. floresiensis following.

Did a volcano contribute too?

The last few Stegodon fossil remains and stone tools in Liang Bua are covered in a prominent layer of volcanic ash, dated to around 50,000 years ago. We don’t yet know if a nearby volcanic eruption was a “final straw” in the decline of Liang Bua hobbits.

The first archaeological evidence attributed to Homo sapiens is above the ash. So while there is no way of knowing if H. sapiens and H. floresiensis crossed paths, new archaeological and DNA evidence both indicate that H. sapiens were island-hopping across Indonesia to the supercontinent of Sahul by at least 60,000 years ago.

If H. floresiensis were forced by ecological pressures away from their hideaway towards the coast, they may have interacted with modern humans. And if so, could competition, disease, or even predation then have been decisive factors?

Whatever the ultimate cause, our study provides the framework for future studies to examine the extinction of the iconic H. floresiensis in the context of major climate change.

The underlying role of freshwater availability in the demise of one of our human cousins reminds us that humanity’s history is a fragile experiment in survival, and how shifting rainfall patterns can have profound impacts.

Nick Scroxton, Research Fellow, Palaeoclimate, National University of Ireland Maynooth; Gerrit (Gert) van den Bergh, Researcher in Palaeontology, University of Wollongong; Michael Gagan, Honorary Professor, Palaeoclimate, University of Wollongong; The University of Queensland, and Mika Rizki Puspaningrum, Researcher in Palaeontology, Bandung Institute of Technology, Institut Teknologi Bandung

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As the cold season ends and we fold away our favourite wool jumpers and silk scarves, some fascinating material science is about to unfold quietly in our wardrobes.

Subtle chemical and biological processes will decide whether our clothes stay as cosy as ever or emerge next winter yellowed, brittle and ridden with holes.

Some of our favourite winter garments, made from natural fibres such as wool and silk, feel soft or luxurious – but they are far from inert. At the molecular level these fibres are protein-rich structures that interact constantly with the environment.

These complex structures are what makes the fibres comfortable to wear, and also what makes them vulnerable to storage conditions.

The reason moths want your clothes

Wool is made up of a protein called keratin and silk is composed primarily of one called fibroin. These molecules give the fibres their unique warmth and strength. But proteins, as we all know, are also very nutritious.

When wool or silk is stored with traces of sweat, body oils, skin cells or food residues, it becomes even more attractive to insects and microbes. In particular, clothes moths.

Contrary to popular belief, adult clothes moths do not eat clothes. They are simply the delivery system for larvae, which will consume and damage your favourite garments.

The adult moths are attracted to unwashed, protein-rich materials such as wool, silk, fur and cashmere, and there they quietly lay eggs. These eggs hatch into larvae with amazingly strong digestive enzymes.

In a closed wardrobe, the larvae feed undisturbed, chewing through the fibres and creating the small holes that we discover months later.

What the larvae are actually doing is breaking down long protein chains into smaller fragments, thereby weakening the structural integrity of the fibre. Once that molecular architecture is compromised, the fabric loses its strength and becomes prone to tearing.

Another enemy: moisture

Even if your wardrobe is moth-proof, moisture itself can be a slow-acting threat to natural fibres. When we wear wool or silk, small amounts of sweat become trapped within the fibre network.

Sweat contains salts, fatty acids and other types of mild acids produced by our muscles. If these residues remain in the fabric during long-term storage, they can cause two chemical processes called oxidation and hydrolysis, which weaken the bonds holding the fibres together.

This is why wool garments sometimes turn yellow in storage. The colour change is a signal that fibre proteins have chemically changed, most often due to oxidation.

The effect on silk is to reduce its lustre and make it brittle over time, which is a symptom of broken molecular bonds within the fibres. This means the fibre can no longer flex the way it once did.

If you store your garments in a damp environment, these chemical processes accelerate and so does the damage. Moisture also creates a perfect habitat for mould, bacteria and other microorganisms that produce enzymes capable of degrading protein fibres even further.

How to protect your clothes

What can you do to protect your garments? A gentle wash at the end of winter keeps clothes fresh and prevents a lot of the above undesirable effects.

A mild wash removes sweat, salts and oils that trigger oxidation, eliminates food traces that attract insects, reduces microbial and enzymatic activity and finally refreshes the fibre structure without damaging it.

For wool, this means a cool, wool-safe wash cycle or handwashing with a pH-balanced detergent. For silk, it must be a gentle, low-agitation wash.

Remember, the goal is not harshness but removing contaminants. Once these are gone, the fibre is more stable and less appealing to moth larvae.

Ideal storage conditions for wool and silk are similar to how we store food items in the pantry: cool, dry and away from direct light.

Conditions should be cool but not cold, because stable temperatures reduce condensation and microbial growth. Dry too, since moisture is the enemy of both chemical and biological stability.

Avoid airtight bags, because they trap humidity and increases fibre degradation. Breathable cotton garment bags are much safer. Direct sunlight can break down protein chains over long periods, so keep the light levels low.

Deterrents and synthetic fibres

Common natural moth deterrents like cedar and lavender don’t kill insects, but they do make the environment far less inviting to moths.

Even better, the latest research explores bio-based protective fibre coatings, which deter larvae and offer antimicrobial benefits without affecting feel or wearability.

If you are dealing with synthetic fibres (such as polyester or nylon), you have an entirely different degradation scenario.

Synthetics don’t attract moths because they don’t have animal-based proteins. However, they are still susceptible to oxidation, hydrolysis, and loss of elasticity caused by repeated stretching or exposure to heat.

Synthetics may survive moth season untouched, but they still benefit from being clean, dry and stored away from direct heat or sunlight.

Preserving clothes and reducing waste

Taking some time to care for garments at the end of winter doesn’t just help you, either. Caring for clothes has significant environmental implications.

Textile waste is a growing issue, contributing heavily to landfill burdens. Extending the life of a wool jumper or a silk shirt from seasonal damage saves new purchases and decreases textile waste.

When we understand the science at play, our simple habits of washing before storing and keeping garments dry become meaningful, responsible actions.

Nisa Salim, Director, Swinburne-CSIRO National Testlab for Composite Additive Manufacturing, Swinburne University of Technology

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There are two glaring lessons for politicians from the Anika Wells’ entitlements affair.

First, don’t grab greedily at every generous entitlement MPs and especially ministers can get, even if “the rules” allow you to do so.

Second, if you do get into trouble, show some humility and apologise early (and often).

If Wells had acted differently at the National Press Club last week, when she was pressed on the nearly $95,000 bill for three airfares to New York (for herself and two officials), she might be looking a little better politically than she is now. No doubt the past largesse Wells has enjoyed would have been probed in the wake of the fares. But her handling made sure she would be cut absolutely no slack.

The communications minister had flown to New York to spruik at the United Nations the federal government’s ban on under-16s having social media accounts. She hadn’t been able to catch the prime minister’s plane because she was delayed by the Optus triple zero crisis.

Wells could have said, “while the fares were within the guidelines they certainly appear over the top; I am looking into them and will make public why they were so large”. Instead she doubled down. Her testy response to the journalist who pushed her – “I’ve answered your question” – produced footage that would be played repeatedly.

She (and Anthony Albanese in defending her at the weekend) have come across as arrogant. Ordinary people would expect a minister to check out an exorbitant airfare when it was brought to their attention. Does anyone think Wells would not do so, if $34,426.58 for her fare had appeared on her personal credit card?

Albanese actually knows to be careful with spending public money – his office went out of its way on the day to stress he’d paid for his wedding at The Lodge.

There is now a feeding frenzy on Wells’ spending – all, it seems, formally within “the rules”, but a poor look to those without access to workarounds enabling them to turn public money to private benefit.

Wells wrapped her attendance at a friend’s birthday party in Adelaide in June within some work commitments. The “wraparound” is a favourite strategy of ministers who want to reduce the personal costs of private engagements.

She took her family skiing at Thredbo, also in June, where she had official engagements as sports minister. This is under the so-called family reunion provision, which allows families to accompany the politician (up to a cap).

In 2012 Tony Burke, then a minister in the Gillard government, combined a family excursion to Uluru with a work trip. Finally in 2020, Burke repaid more than $8,600 for the family travel. He had eventually decided the travel, while in accord with the rules, did not meet community expectations.

The argument that politics is a hard life and families suffer doesn’t really hold water in such rows. Politicians are not conscripts, and they earn a lot more than the average wage. While it is natural they want to take the kids on excursions (like everyone else), they have adequate personal resources to do so.

Wells should know entitlements are both a honeypot and a trap. As sports minister she is offered many freebies, raising potential conflicts of interest in itself. The taxpayers have financed her husband attending multiple events.

It might all be within “the rules” but collectively Wells’ behaviour has painted a picture of someone enjoying an excessive amount of perks, who is blind to appearances.

Entitlements have “trapped” many senior public figures over the years.

Sussan Ley in 2017 quit as health minister after questions about her travel entitlements. She had previously bought a Gold Coast apartment while on an official work trip. She said she hadn’t intended to make the purchase and the trip was within the rules.

A former speaker, Peter Slipper, in 2014 was found guilty of dishonestly using Commonwealth entitlements in visiting wineries several years before.

Then there was the famous instance of Liberal Bronwyn Bishop, forced to step down as speaker in 2015 after it was revealed she had spent more than $5,000 on a helicopter to fly from Melbourne to Geelong for a Liberal fundraiser. Joe Hockey, treasurer at the time, said “instinctively” this didn’t pass the sniff test.

Wells’ position is not at risk but her colleagues have had to form the veritable conga line to defend the embattled minister. Meanwhile in a counteroffensive to the Coalition attacks, the government delved into the use of entitlements by shadow communications minister Melissa McIntosh.

When Wells is supposed to be explaining and defending the social media ban, which starts Wednesday, she has drowned out much of her own message.

Treasurer Jim Chalmers was clearly frustrated as he was quizzed on Monday about the Wells affair. He resorted to the “I’ve answered your question” line.

Chalmers was speaking at a news conference to announce cabinet had agreed the energy rebate won’t be extended beyond this month.

It’s a sensible decision, and would have been one Chalmers wanted, albeit it will add to the problem of containing inflation.

But the timing could not have been worse for the government. When juxtaposed against Wells’ spendathon, householders will be cynical, furious or both.

Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra

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