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

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)

Signing off for 2024….

Regular readers may have noticed the lack of posts to this blog in recent weeks. Thanks to some overseas and interstate travel, I have overlooked my commitment to weekly updates. Plus, a dearth of inspiration has contributed to partial writer’s block.

Rather than trying to force the issue, I’ve decided to use this lull as a natural prompt to take an early end-of-year break from blogging. Especially as we have the combined southern hemisphere effect of a headlong rush into the Holiday Season, and an extended summer hiatus.

Looking back over 2024, it has felt as if the popular desire for political change has quickly turned into a case of “be careful of what you wish for”. Less than 6 months after securing an overwhelming win in the UK general election, the British Labour government is already wearing out its welcome, given the level of public frustration and administrative set-backs concerning key policies and poor executive governance. And with Republicans about to assume the reins in Washington, the US electorate must be bracing itself for the change (or déjà vu) about to be unleashed in the Whitehouse with Donald Trump’s return to office. Here in Australia, the current Labor government is facing the prospect of being a one-term administration, as it has had little positive impact on the cost of living crisis, and has resorted to pushing through ill-drafted and ill-considered legislation in the final Parliamentary session of the year (and possibly the last of this government’s term).

On a personal note, there have been some notable highs, offset with sad losses and other family setbacks – the latter mainly thanks to the ageing process which, despite its inevitability, can still be cruel and arbitrary. So I’m thankful that apart from the odd aches and twinges, I enjoy a reasonable level of health and fitness.

The material and spiritual elements that also sustain me (music, wine, good food, art, cinema, travel, books…) continue to provide sustenance, although in some cases (especially in film and art) I have noticed a declining return on the time invested in them. And of course, I’m grateful to have a group of friends with whom to share many of these pleasures. As with most areas of my life, when it comes to friendships, I prefer quality over quantity (“less is more”). Social media has its uses, but without connecting IRL, on-line friendships can easily come and go with the click of a button – but true friends are lifelong, and the threads can be maintained over the years, and even at a distance, because of the foundational links that underpin them.

With that thought, I would like to take this opportunity to wish everyone a safe, peaceful and festive Saturnalia and beyond into 2025. See you next year!

 

 

 

 

 

Notes from the UK

I’ve just made my annual pilgrimage to the UK. It’s also 30 years since I emigrated, and with each passing year, I arrive feeling more and more like a visitor – although I am “from” there, I don’t always feel I am “of” there.

The following notes are some brief observations, in no particular order, based on a relatively short trip (2 weeks), and I was only in the Greater Manchester and Greater London areas.

  • I flew from Melbourne to Manchester, via Hong Kong. My in-bound flight to the UK was carrying a large number of overseas students from China – not surprising, as Manchester has one of the largest Chinese communities in Europe, and the city also boasts a UK Top Ten University.
  • A pint of cask ale in the north west cost me an average of GBP4.00 – in London, it was more like GBP6.00. I know some employees receive “London weighting” or a “London allowance” to cover the high cost of living, but I doubt salaries in the capital are 50% higher than the rest of the country. (Regional variations in property prices are a different matter altogether!)
  • On the other hand, a sour dough loaf from a local bakery in the Peak District cost me GBP3.00 – I would generally pay about 50-60% more for a similar product in Melbourne.
  • The in-coming Labour government, having won a huge majority in July’s General Election, has already hit the buffers. A combination of unpopular policies (cutting pensioners’ winter energy rebates), strange priorities (a ban on outdoor smoking), off-key messaging (“doom and gloom” rhetoric) and sleaze (donations of clothes, tickets and spectacles for the new Prime Minister and his wife) have brought the post-election honeymoon period to an abrupt end.
  • Staying with politics, there was a lot of despondency, if not anger, about the political climate. Despite Labour’s overwhelming success at the polls, it was hard to feel any love for the new government. And after more than four years since Brexit, no-one was jumping for joy at the outcomes, as the alleged promises and benefits fail to materialise. If anything, businesses are suffering due to the loss of access to EU markets and/or the additional costs of exporting.
  • Thankfully, the riots that erupted a few weeks ago have dissipated, but it felt like the underlying tensions remain. As well as having been triggered by malicious rumours and blatant disinformation, the social unrest revealed confusion about national identity (and what it means to be “British”), combined with contradictory views on immigration, multiculturalism and globalisation.
  • Meanwhile, the UK taste for “foreign” food continues unabated, along with a love of overseas holidays.
  • Despite producing some of the best television dramas in the world, UK content makers continue pumping out aging soap operas, stale game shows, endless talent contests and questionable reality TV. So, much like the rest of the world!
  • I paid GBP114.00 for a return train ticket from Manchester to London, which seems expensive for a 2.5 hour service. Both my outbound and return journeys were delayed by more than 15 minutes. Thanks to “Delay Repay”, I received a total of GBP42.00 in compensation. I can’t help thinking that the train and rail operators should focus on improving their services, rather than overcharging and delaying passengers, in the hope that the effort to claim is not worth customers’ time.
  • When visiting London, I usually use an Oyster card. This time, I forgot to take it – but thankfully, passengers can use contactless payment methods on trains, the Undergound and even short trips on buses (just remember to touch on and off with the same card on each journey!)
  • The autumn weather was especially mild, enabling me to indulge in long walks in the countryside, followed by a mandatory pint or two in a local pub (that great “British” institution!) Sadly, a combination of Covid lockdowns and changing social patterns means that many pubs have reduced their opening hours, or closed their doors for good.
  • As Australia’s near-duopolistic supermarkets face legal action for alleged misleading and deceptive price discounting, I’m reminded of the amount of choice UK shoppers have between supermarket chains, and across product ranges. No doubt that more competitive markets in Australia (for grocery shopping and beyond) would help alleviate the cost of living – but that requires structural and other changes for which successive Federal governments have had no appetite.

Next week: Does age matter?