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In an era of reflex opinion and vanishing accountability, moral seriousness can seem an anachronism. Yet history teaches that ideas — and the people who defend them — shape lives and nations.
As we witness those wars that continue to rage, we might wonder, this Anzac Day, what were the effects on our First Nations people when their lands were first taken? We can now see only too clearly that it is difficult, if not impossible in the longer term, to defend one’s land when the invader has more powerful resources and shows no intention of negotiating peace.
Before heartthrobs became brand names, there was Richard Chamberlain. A matinee idol with the soul of a serious actor, he rose to fame as Dr. Kildare, sought after Shakespeare, and stole scenes from Gielgud. His legacy is a portrait of quiet yearning — for love, for truth, for artistic respect.
In cities that pride themselves on liveability, a quiet war is being waged against the homeless with urban design and tough bylaws. What appears as civic order is, in truth, a hardening of public conscience, where compassion gives way to concealment, and suffering is swept from view.
The origins of Australian Rules Football are officially recorded, but not necessarily complete. As new questions emerge about Tom Wills, marngrook, and the silences in our national story, the game’s history becomes a mirror reflecting not only what we remember, but what we choose to forget.
As Australia approaches another federal election, the Catholic Church, long ambivalent about democratic politics, prepares to weigh in. Its official statement could play it safe, as in years past — or it could offer a deeper moral vision, confronting the global drift toward division with the quiet radicalism of synodality.
Frank Brennan wears his prominence lightly. A priest, lawyer, and tireless advocate for Indigenous rights and refugees, he is as at home in political corridors as he is at the dinner table, welcoming friends with stories and good cheer. Now, celebrating 50 years as a Jesuit, he reflects on faith, justice, and a life of service.
In Broome, the work of the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody uncovers not only personal grief but also the enduring systemic failures that continue to claim Indigenous lives. As the commission’s findings remain largely unimplemented, the question remains: why has Australia failed to meaningfully address the injustice of these deaths?
Sister Margaret Noone, a Loreto nun who died this year at 91, shaped paediatric palliative care in Australia. She founded Very Special Kids, providing support for families of children facing life-threatening illnesses. Her compassionate commitment stands in stark contrast to today’s loud stage of power.
With debates around Australia Day continuing to divide, might shifting the national celebration to another day, rooted in resilience and renewal, offer a fresh start? By embracing a new unifying symbol, Australia could move beyond the pain of the past toward a national day that reflects unity, hope, and shared values.
From reality TV’s contrived narratives to global news shaped by biases, we rarely consume truth unfiltered. Why does raw reality feel unbearable — and how does this shape our lives?
In 1968, Peter Norman won Olympic silver, but his lasting legacy was a stance for justice on the podium alongside Tommie Smith and John Carlos, where he wore an Olympic Project for Human Rights badge in solidarity. Yet his quiet protest led to lifelong exclusion at home, recognition arriving only posthumously.
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