Time for age limits on religion?

As more countries consider following Australia’s lead in banning or restricting children and young people from accessing social media, I wonder why we don’t similarly consider a ban on religion for anyone under 16? Surely, if we want to protect our children from the potential harm caused by social media, we should include religious faith as having similar harmful effects on young minds.

I appreciate this may sound deliberately contentious, but bear with me. I come to this suggestion from a number of perspectives.

First, my own position on “god” and faith-based beliefs sits somewhere between agnosticism and atheism. For those who say “you’re just sitting on the fence” or “you’re hedging your bets”, I would reply I simply don’t have that die-hard certainty in theological beliefs or conviction of faith that is usually required (if not enforced) by most religions and cults. I have no problem with people practising or adhering to their own faiths. But in liberal, progressive, pluralistic and democratic societies the right to “freedom of religion” is balanced with the right to “freedom from religion”. Meaning I shouldn’t be disadvantaged or persecuted solely for my choice of a specific religion, or my choice of no religion. I would also side with the humanists and secularists who argue that your freedom to exercise your religion should not cause any harm to others, especially not to those who do not follow your particular persuasion. And your religious practices and preferences certainly shouldn’t curb my individual rights to things like legal birth control, divorce, gender equality etc. I would also argue that an individual’s freedom to choose their own religion (not have it imposed at birth as if it formed part of our DNA) should be based on an informed, independent and personal decision. Just as we have age limits for voting, driving, marriage and sexual relations, I think we should have minimum age limits for religious membership and participation.

Second, many of my ancestors were subjected to religious persecution. My French ancestors were protestants (Huguenots) and were effectively driven out of France; my Irish ancestors were catholics, and endured the strictures of British colonialism. Both suffered due to religious sectarianism – so I have little time for religious practices that foster discrimination, forced conversion or violence born of intolerance, fanaticism, extremism and fundamentalism. I certainly don’t want to live under theocratic rule!

Third, I spent much of my A-Level History course studying the Protestant Reformation, and the Catholic Counter-Reformation. From a political and cultural perspective, it is an extremely important period, and many of the key events and outcomes are echoed in today’s geo-political landscape. For example, Henry VIII’s break with Rome can be seen as the first Brexit; while vernacular translations of the bible and other religious texts (rather than the Latin versions imposed by the Catholic Church) were important for helping to spread literacy, and they have helped to inform notions of self-determination by nation states and ethnic minorities.

Fourth, those A-Level studies also exposed much of the nonsense that is spouted in the name of religion, for example: theological disputes around predestination and transubstantiation, and debates about how many angels can fit on the head of a needle. Much earlier in my life, I was a member of a church choir. I recall, aged 7 or 8, having to read out aloud during Sunday services some passages from the bible which I just didn’t understand (and which no-one in church could rationally explain). Yet, because they represented the “word of god”, they had to be true, and I was required to believe them, otherwise I was going to burn in hell. That’s surely not how we should be educating children, is it?

If we do want to teach ideas about religion to children under the age of 16, perhaps we need a different approach. While schools may offer classes in comparative religion, it’s largely under the auspices of religious education or religious instruction (or maybe social studies). Whereas, I think sacred texts should be taught as literature (fiction or poetry), and open to the same level of critical analysis applied to Shakespeare, Jane Austen or George Orwell. Maybe these texts could be studied and critiqued in philosophy classes, but certainly not taught as part of science or history subjects!

The current public debate around “religious freedom” is often tied up in torturous arguments about protected beliefs, freedom of speech, and the “right” to cause offence against someone’s personal beliefs. Increasingly, taking a secular or non-sectarian stance against religious overbearance (whether in the form of Islamic Jihadism, Christian Nationalism, Zionism, Hindu Nationalism or Buddhist ethno-nationalism) is dismissed and even prosecuted as evidence of racism, xenophobia, religious discrimination or incitement to violence. And as for the Federal government’s back-flip on launching a Royal Commission in the aftermath of the Bondi massacre, I think the Prime Minister was probably right to change his mind about holding an enquiry, but got it totally wrong by framing it in the context of only one form of religion. Instead, he should have made it a broader examination of religious extremism and sectarian intolerance of all kinds, and the harm this is having on society and our personal freedoms.

Next week: The cost of AI

What A Waste!

Local government is like the unwanted stepchild (or even bastard) of Australian politics – not formally recognised by the Constitution, but expected to provide all the services that neither the Commonwealth nor the States want to deliver. So they get delegated with roads and recreation, planning, libraries, waste management and other more esoteric activities.

Most of their funding comes from Federal and State coffers, plus property rates, permit fees and income from sundry services, but they have limited discretion as to how and where to allocate their resources since local by-laws must be consistent with State legislation.

So when it comes to the straightforward provision of rubbish collection and waste recycling, it’s quite amazing how inconsistent these services are from once council to the next.

In the case of my own local authority, we now have four different waste bins, one each for: glass; recycling; organic; and general (i.e., pretty much anything else that does not belong in the other three bins).

In addition to having to remember which bins get collected each week, residents also have to interpret what items can actually go in each bin. For example, “glass” really means only bottles and jars – so no cookware, drinking vessels or other glass products. “Recycling” only covers paper, cardboard, metal cans and lids, foil, and a few categories of plastic bottles and containers (and only as long as the lids have been removed and placed in the “general” waste). Soft plastics such as food packaging are not accepted, nor are Tetra Paks (one of the most common forms of beverage containers). As for the “organic” bin (or FOGO – “food and garden organic”), while this is no doubt a helpful solution to separate valuable compostable materials from general waste, our local council will not allow us to use bio-degradable bags, so the FOGO is thrown straight into the bin (nice in the height of summer!). Yet my friends and neighbours who live in other local council areas are able to use these convenient bags to manage their organic waste. Go figure why there is this difference!

On the question of recycling drink containers, things get even more confusing when looking at the Victorian government’s Container Deposit Scheme (CDS). First, the CDS collection points, despite there being over 600 across the State, are still quite limited (by location and operating hours). Second, the list of eligible categories is shorter than the types of ineligible items (5 vs 7). Third, it seems that unlike local council waste collection, the CDS will accept container lids, and even Tetra Paks (but the latter only applies to flavoured milks, not plain or plant-based milks). Fourth, while my council is willing to accept any glass bottle that has contained alcohol, the CDS only accepts beer and cider bottles. Why do they have to make it so confusing and complicated?

I know that there have been huge problems with the collection and recycling of soft plastics. For a few years, it was possible to return most plastic food packaging (bags and wrappers) to local supermarkets for recycling. But whoever signed off on those service contracts forgot to check what was actually happening to these materials, until there were a series of warehouse fires and other problems. Yet, this reverse supply chain model would be a logical way to manage the CDS – we buy most of our drinks from bottle shops and supermarkets, so why not encourage us to take back the empties to the point of sale? When my family lived in South Australia in the early 1970s, there was already a CDS scheme for bottles, and I remember as kids we would collect the empties and take them back to the local milk bar and use the deposit refunds towards our next purchases. Made sense then, should make even more sense now?

Finally, another example of how inconsistent my local authority is when it comes to waste management: the council operates a depot where local residents can take a range of household items for recycling and disposal, including hard and soft plastics, batteries, electrical goods, computers and peripherals, and larger items that won’t fit in the domestic bins. I took a large plastic item all the way to the depot in person, only to be told I would have to book a hard waste collection service so it could be picked up when they next sent out a truck. Surely I was saving them time and resources by dropping it off at the depot myself?

 

And the public gets what the public wants?*

Another Australian General Election comes and goes – although with a mere 3 years between federal polls, our politicians and their parties seem to be in constant campaign mode. Certainly, the formal election campaign lacked any significant new policies, so it felt like the leadership “debates” were simply a continuation of the stale language, petty point-scoring and tedious soundbites we hear day in, day out.

Cue the constant and familiar references to crises in housing, the cost of living and climate change. Both major parties tried to build platforms promising financial incentives for first-time home owners, with policies that were expensive, ill-conceived (albeit well intentioned), and with little regard for the consequences on the housing market or the broader economy. There was a failed attempt to have an informed debate about nuclear power, and tons of the usual pork-barrelling for pet industries and favoured constituencies. Even a major credit rating agency suggested that the Commonwealth’s coveted AAA status could be at risk as a result of all the campaign largesse. And of course, any lowering of the AAA rating would likely see an increase in interest rates, which would largely defeat the object of the first-time home owner policies.

At the time of writing, the Australian Labor Party has retained power with a significantly increased parliamentary majority, based on the projected number of seats it will win. But while the seats total may look like a landslide, it’s clear that a significant portion of the electorate voted tactically to either: a) keep the Liberal Coalition out of power; b) increase the chance of a minority Government and/or hung Parliament; or c) maintain the current status quo in a turbulent and uncertain world.

Based on the counts so far, both the ALP and Liberals have each only managed to garner about one-third of the total primary votes (4,678,061 – 34.81% and 4,315,961 – 32.1% respectively). While the national swing to Labor was around 2.3% since 2022 (with the Liberals seeing an opposite swing of -3.6%), this is enough to give them a large majority in the House of Representatives, thanks to the preferential voting system.

By contrast, in 2022, the ALP secured fewer primary votes than the Liberals (4,776,030 – 32.58% and 5,233,334 – 35.70% respectively), but managed to secure government with a slim majority. The point is, that the two major parties combined face a continued decline in their share of the primary vote. Given the performances by the Greens and Independents in recent elections, there could be a case for adjusting the current system of preferences to include a weighting or allocation based on the total primary vote by party. This might seem fairer in those constituencies with very marginal results, or where parties draw a significant share of primary votes nationally, but not enough to win (m)any seats, even with preferences. But given that most independent candidates (by their very nature) are not affiliated to any party, and usually focus on local issues (and often on single policy platforms), that allocation would be very difficult to calculate on a federal scale.

Meanwhile, it felt like the number of early-voting facilities was limited compared to previous elections, and there was little or no promotion of postal vote applications. This could have been due to the relatively short campaign period (although it always feels much longer…) combined with the large number of public holidays during that time. Cynics might suggest that this was a deliberate tactic by the incumbent government as early voting and postal votes are traditionally considered to favour the Liberal Coalition. I can’t find any compelling evidence for this theory. Partly, I suspect, because the major parties recognise that undecided, wavering and swing voters make a huge difference to the final results, so encouraging people to cast their ballot on election day helps them in that regard, even though more and more voters opt to vote before the big day itself. Whether the promise of an election sausage is sufficient incentive, I’d rather not speculate!

I experienced a huge feeling of disengagement with this latest election, mainly because I didn’t identify with any policies, parties or candidates that I could really get behind. When it came to voting for the Senate, I couldn’t see 6 parties (above the line) let alone 12 candidates (below the line) that I considered deserving of my vote. But we are forced to express our preferences for a minimum number of parties/candidates, hence the candidate lists are usually very long. I always think the large Senate voting slips are problematic, especially if you want to complete the full “below the line” choices, as we don’t really know what preference deals have been done behind the scenes.

Like many voters, I had issues with the unsolicited text messages I received, on behalf of candidates and/or parties. Apart from not disclosing how they obtained my number, some of the SMS did not carry the relevant authorisation statement; the sender’s number was anonymous (presumably they use automated systems); and blocking the sender had little or no effect – they still kept sending them! Since political parties are deliberately exempt from complying with laws against spam and invasion of privacy, the Australian Electoral Commission is relatively powerless to act. Presumably it’s in the parties’ interests to keep the status quo?

I was also surprised that polling stations still use a paper-based system to tick off who has turned up to vote. (I was using the same system when I was a polling clerk back in the 1980s in London.) Although the polling officers are required to ask me if I have already voted in another location, there is no immediate way to cross-check the electoral rolls. Surely an electronic tracking system would be a better solution? And on that note, I’ll end with a suggestion that it’s about time we put voter registration, voting and campaign donations on a blockchain to support voter ID and verification with privacy, secure proof of polling and force campaign funding transparency… as well as a speedier vote count!

*(with apologies to The Jam)

Same old economic crises?

Amid the current turmoil surrounding tariffs and trade wars, I have been re-reading “Economics: The User’s Guide” by Ha-Joon Chang.

First published in 2014, this highly accessible introduction to economic theory and practice was written in the wake of the GFC, and the fallout that ensued from the US housing bubble and the consequential collapse (and public bailout) of major banks and financial institutions. The US bubble was largely caused by an imbalance in housing supply, poor lending standards, and over-engineering of mortgage-backed securities that quickly unraveled when banks lost confidence in each other, causing a major credit crunch and a lack of market liquidity.

Chang couldn’t have foreseen COVID and the knock-on effect on global supply chains and the impact of lock-down policies on overall productivity. He overlooks (ignores?) Bitcoin, a key ideological and technological response to the GFC, and he downplays the role of innovation in economic growth. However, his historical survey, his analysis of major economic theories (or “schools”) and his explanation of the roles that governments and the private sector play are all spot on and serve as a great resource for anyone wanting to try and make sense of the world.

Given the credit crunch at the heart of the GFC, the recent sell-off in the US bond markets reminds us that:

1. History repeats itself time and time again (albeit for different reasons)

2. Global markets are deeply interconnected, despite various attempts at de-coupling and policies designed to challenge globalisation and bring about increased protectionism

3. The US housing market is heavily reliant upon foreign investors since US treasuries both create market liquidity for new mortgage lending, and set key interest rates for borrowers – and major holders of US treasuries are foreign governments and institutional investors

The US mortgage market is underpinned by a near-socialist funding model (in the form of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac), a propensity for long-term fixed rate loans, and a significant volume of non-recourse mortgages.

If a global trade war results in higher cost of goods for US consumers, and a bond sell-off results in higher interest rates, could we see a repeat of the GFC but driven by different causes?