Charity is no substitute for justice
Journalism and ethics after Christchurch
Opt-out not the answer for organ donation
J. K. needs to stop Harry Potter queerbaiting
'People as things': a new story after Christchurch
"Most manifestly egregious is the fact that not one of these observers has heard the surviving victim's testimony first-hand.'
"Terrorism is not only a physical act of violence, but a form of mass communication in itself."
"In this sense we all live downstream, and so it is the best viewpoint for long-term planning of the river system."
"While it's possible there might be an explicit demonstration of Dumbledore and Grindelwald's relationship in an upcoming movie, it feels far too late for me."
The difficulty for journalists reporting emergencies is they're having to make important and hugely impactful ethical decisions right in the moment. In balancing those tough decisions, how often does the common good start drowning in what will draw the most attention from an audience, and away from competing news organisations?
The work of charities, including the generous work of volunteers, should not be a means of letting governments off the hook. People do not want to have to rely on charity; they want to be able to count on justice. And charity is never a substitute for justice. But it becomes so when governments abrogate their responsibilities.
Rowling still wants it both ways — the kudos for representation that she never explicitly included, with the benefit of no actual risk. Back then, having an openly gay character would have been taking a stand. But now, in 2019, a straight author winking at queerness is just not good enough.
As climate change continues to take centre stage, stepping away from the drivel spouted by leaders and instead highlighting the legitimacy of anti-colonial struggle as the foundation from which to combat all forms of detrimental land exploitation is not just preferable. It is an obligation.
Cuba's constitutional referendum in February displayed overwhelming support for the government. More than six million voted yes, while around 706,000 voted no. The new constitution represents a step forward for the democratic, economic and social development of the country.
The world leaders who rushed to condemn the Valentine's Day attack have long remained silent on state-sanctioned oppression in Kashmir. That's no longer a surprise; nor is the fact that the attack was covered by every major western media organisation, while the daily injustices perpetrated against ordinary Kashmiris go unreported.
The key deciding factor for both opt-in and opt-out systems requires that next-of-kin provide consent. Without this consent, organ donation will not proceed under either an opt-in or opt-out model. As such, education and awareness, and an understanding of organ donation as a gift, is the best way to raise organ donation rates.
The slimy words are those that convict their targets of simulating virtue. They include the old favourite 'bleeding hearts', the perennial 'political correctness' and the most recently minted 'virtue signalling'. They are slimy because they purport to be counters in rational argument but dismiss opposed arguments without engaging with them.
Penny Wong dismissed Tarrant as un-Australian, a dangerous point given that Australian values have been rather flexible in their deployment. The same treatment is reserved for Anning: 'He does not represent who we are.' The painful truth is that Anning and Tarrant are representative of an aspect of Australian national identity.
A lady with tears in her eyes asked if I was Muslim. I told her that I am. She asked it if would it be okay if she came in and said a prayer. 'Of course,' I replied. She knelt, quietly sobbing, and said a few words. I also knelt and recited a few verses from the Quran. We were complete strangers sharing a unique and emotional moment.
A conservative within a conservative church he was a divisive figure, not just because of his orthodox views but because of the unbending and assertive style with which he promulgated them. Something died in Australian Catholicism with this verdict and Australian Catholics will have to live with that whatever the future turns out to be.
My relationship to Catholicism can be summed up as: I am on the outskirts, yet close and invested enough to care how the Church evolves. Because, it seems to me, how it evolves and the speed at which those urgent and essential changes take place will significantly determine whether it will survive — and whether it deserves to survive.
My children will be walking out of school for the School Strike 4 Climate Action. My eldest says she wants 'to protest that adults should actually do something about this planet that is dying, because we're all going to die with it'. She sees climate change action as a black and white issue.
A million dead fish, floating on putrid green water. Images of this ecological catastrophe on the Darling River over summer shocked the nation. Was it the result of drought? Blue-green algae poisoning? After at least four published reports, we know the answers. It's time to state plainly what has been going on, and who is to blame.
While in many ways this decision was uncontroversial — in that it merely upheld an earlier ministerial decision — Chief Justice Preston's judgment was significant in the Australian context both for its extensive reference to climate change and for his honour's clear acceptance of the science.
On the morning of your last day there are eight people, including me and my daughter, who is a music therapist and has played music for people as they die as part of her clinical practice. After discussions during the week, first with you and then with your neurologist, it was decided that she will sing for you and the people with you today.
A small commotion at the doorway of the store catches my attention. A man in a pork-pie hat marches across the threshold. He carries a small back pack and steps with an uneven gait. He has a sure message, calling out a gamely, 'Good morning! Good morning everyone!' He looks about with purpose. Initially no one replies.
The church is an old man with heavy robes. Heavy lidded, head bowed. Stooped. We are twisting, clutching, writhing. Pointing fingers, fists stamping tables or shaking in fury. But the old man is deaf and blind and besides, his head is low, and he sits within a prison cell.
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