Santa Claus's hand reaches for a tart, with a carrot on a plate. Parents tell kids the truth about Santa? Holiday treat.

Should parents tell kids the truth about Santa?

Santa Claus's hand reaches for a tart, with a carrot on a plate. Parents tell kids the truth about Santa? Holiday treat.

Kids, stop reading now – Santa’s watching!

Most adults know Santa Claus doesn’t exist. Yet most parents try to convince their children he does and try to keep them believing for as long as they can. They use bad evidence and ridiculous explanations to encourage kids to believe because it’s comforting or fun.

Is the Santa lie immoral? Does it teach poor critical thinking skills? Perhaps, but let’s put the philosophical questions aside.

As a parent, I have other concerns. Is the fact that children thank Santa and not their parents for their gifts problematic? Should Santa be used as a disciplinary threat? Does it really encourage imagination? Does lying to my child about Santa threaten my child’s view of how trustworthy I am? All in all, is lying to children about Santa good parenting practice?

I don’t think it is. It’s not that I’d be a bad parent if I did lie to my children about Santa. I’d be a better parent if I didn’t. Here’s why.

Children who believe in Santa thank him for their presents instead of their parents. It might seem selfish for a parent to desire such appreciation, but children need to learn to give it. What’s more, making your child believe the gifts you buy them come from someone else defeats the primary function of gift giving. As a theologian recently reminded me, gifts are the giver’s way of showing the recipient that he or she has worth and is loved. Children need assurance their parents see them as worthwhile and valuable – not Santa Claus.

And as even defenders of the Santa lie agree, Santa shouldn’t be used as a disciplinary threat. “Though lying [about Santa] can be an awfully convenient parenting crutch… it’s generally best to keep it to a minimum.” Yet that’s exactly how many parents use the Santa lie.

I don’t give out bonus points to my students for attending class. Why should we reward children for a mere lack of misbehaviour?

It’s perfectly acceptable to train children to do the right thing by rewarding good behaviour and punishing the bad – but the Santa lie doesn’t do this. It promises lavish reward for a simple lack of misbehaviour.

“Stop hitting your sister or Santa won’t bring you anything.”

I don’t give out bonus points to my students for attending class. Why should we reward children for a mere lack of misbehaviour?

In addition, lying about Santa doesn’t encourage imagination – it stifles it. You can’t pretend something is true if you already believe it is. As Pascal-Emmanuel Gobry puts it, “If believing in Santa was an exercise in imagination, every kid would believe in a different Santa.” By tricking children into actually believing Santa exists we rob them of the opportunity to imagine he does.

Consider how one mother who emailed me approaches Christmas with her children:

“We have ‘played the Christmas game’ with [our children] every year. My husband and I purchase the gifts and wrap them in secret, and we place them under the tree on Christmas Eve when the kids are asleep. We talk about Santa coming and what he’ll bring… Heck, we even have an Elf on the Shelf that the kids adore. We try to think of different (crazy!) ways that Santa and the Elf come into the house, or cover the whole world in one night.

Maybe they have a spaceship? Maybe Santa multiplies? … We visit Santa at malls and the kids just LOVE telling him what they want for Christmas. But the kids know the truth 100%. That is very important for us. They know it just like my husband and I do, they just enjoy PRETENDING that they don’t. As my daughter, who’s 7, said “I know Santa isn’t real but I like believing in him.”

To encourage imagination, we should pretend along with them – suspending our disbelief while also being aware the story we’re telling is imaginary. It is possible to merge both truth and storytelling as a parent.

My final worry is simple – trust. Finding out their parents have lied to them about Santa Claus can cause children to think their parents are lying to them about a great many other things. Not always, of course, but some children are more susceptible than others. It’s perhaps even more of a risk than many parents realise.

I’ve collected countless stories about the moment children learn the truth. Many were not only embarrassed or outright livid, but actually began to distrust their parents. Recently, one man told me the moment he realised his parents had lied about Santa was also the moment he concluded they must have been lying to him about Jesus and God. He’s an atheist still today.

To encourage imagination, we should pretend along with them. It is possible to merge both truth and storytelling as a parent.

In reality, the tradition of tricking children into believing Santa literally exists is only about 200 years old. It was popularised after the idea that St Nicholas breaks into the house while the children are asleep to deliver presents was invented by Clement Clarke Moore’s poem A Visit from St. Nicholas in 1823. It did not describe an already existing tradition.

The idea was sold to us by rich New Yorkers and business for various reasons – mainly financial – but I think it’s high time that we gave it up. It’s not that we should eliminate the Santa myth from our Christmas traditions entirely, but tricking our children into literally believing Santa actually exists needs to stop. Not only is it bad parenting, but as many parents who avoid the lie have made clear to me, it is in no way necessary for holiday fun or Christmas magic.


Close-up of a woman with red lipstick kissing another's neck. Feminist porn stars debunked concept image. Sensual, intimate moment.

Feminist porn stars debunked

So-called feminist porn star James Deen has faced shocking accusations of rape from numerous women, including several female porn actors.

If true, it’s crucial Deen and men like him are held to account. But it’s also vital that porn producers, wholesalers, web hosts, and investors are not given a free pass. The porn industry deserves critique for feigning interest in respectful consensual sex while creating and profiting from its opposite – and doing so under the banner of feminism and ethics.

The porn industry is starting to brand itself as educational and ethical. The likes of Playboy are dedicating column inches to feminism, porn sites are handing out college scholarships and entire genres of porn are being dedicated to feminism.
“Feminist porn” is frequently cited as a solution, despite its limited popularity. Should it give us hope for a future of ethical porn? Recent events suggest not.

Deen’s ex-partner Stoya says he coerced her and pinned her down despite her pleas to stop. Her claims were followed by those of several other women alleging Deen had punched, injured, assaulted or anally raped them either on or off set. According to one:
He starts going crazy … extreme, brutally … He just starts shoving things in to the point where he ripped it [her rectum] and I bled everywhere. There was so much blood I couldn’t finish the scene.

Deen brands himself “a guy who bangs chicks for a living. He features in numerous titles such as Teenaged Whores 5 and Triple Penetrated in Brutal Gangbang. Deen frequently appears on rough sex sites. He is also viewed as a “male feminist” by supporters.

But the accusations paint a different picture – of dangerous, misogynist ideals that hardly seem out of place in the thinly veiled “ethical” porn industry.

The popular notion that porn is mere fantasy with no link to real-world behaviour is challenged by the suggestion some of Deen’s ‘frape’ (fantasy rape) scenes may have been genuine rape on film. Moreover, it is alleged many of the porn crew were aware these acts were rape and congratulated Deen for getting anal scenes when they hadn’t been consented to.

These rape accusations make it clear pornography is not mere fantasy. Some may be footage of sexual violence and it has real negative effects for producers and consumers.

Yet, those harms are frequently denied. Such was the case when the ABC aired Australians on Porn. A Gold Coast Sexual Assault Centre Director was quoted on porn’s link to sexual violence:

“The biggest common denominator of the increase of intimate partner rape of women between 14 and 80 is the consumption of porn by the offender …  We have seen a huge increase in deprivation of liberty, physical injuries, torture, drugging, sharing photos and film without consent and deprivation of liberty.”

This evidence was dismissed as “irrelevant” by some on the panel – the majority of whom were porn users and supporters. Porn, they suggested, isn’t to blame for negatively shaping behaviours. Rather, it opens minds and provides new ideas for the bedroom.

This argument sharply contrasts with police views and consistent research regarding the harmful effects of pornography. Studies backed by numerous meta-analysis show attitudes toward gender equality, sexual aggression and rape acceptance are worse for viewers of pornography.
The question is not whether a man can be feminist and a porn actor, but why an industry that promotes sexual violence and rape porn is regarded as ethical at all.

Young women are increasingly at risk. Forty percent of UK teenage girls report experiencing coerced sex acts and 25 percent report pressure to send pornographic texts. The ABC’s panel failed to include any person who could speak to the effect of porn in normalising harassing behaviours, sexual coercion, non-consensual filming or sexual violence. Nor did the panel give a flicker of thought to those harmed in production, or the girls, women and men who have quit on account of physical or emotional injury due to trends toward rough sex, choking and facial abuse.

After dismissing concerns about porn, the panel swiftly refocused on the positive effects of ethical and feminist porn before cutting to air a porn scene.

The ABC panel exemplified the dismissal of social harms with tokenistic stories of good. Those invested in porn are not unique from other industries in derailing critical dialogue with a perfunctory nod toward ethics.

These cynical displays of ethics are also used to gain greater political reach. Porn as sex education was recommended by some among the panel. James Deen regularly penned sex advice columns for mainstream feminist publications.

The question is not whether a man can be feminist and a porn actor, but why an industry that promotes sexual violence and rape porn is regarded as ethical at all. What of the ethical considerations stemming from the millions masturbating to scenes of sexual violence on film?

An industry that contributes to and profits from rape culture is an unlikely ally for gender equality.


Is your workplace turning into a cult?

If every culture has a little bit of cult in it, how do we know when there is risk of the line being crossed? There are a few signals worth keeping an eye on.

Good news cultures

Does everything seem a little bit too wonderful? Do you feel as though people are insisting that you accept how wonderful the organisation is? Good news culture can sometimes hide behind the guise of good PR – a glossy front, shiny happy people adorned in corporately branded t-shirts and caps.

If you sense that questioning, doubt, or dissent is discouraged or even punished for fear of undermining the morale or image of the organisation, a good news culture could be at play.

Dominant logic

Ever heard of groupthink? Cults and organisations alike can generate a uniform way of thinking and communicating featuring jargon and particular decision-making processes. If your organisation’s meetings and strategic documents are full of jargon, or alternative approaches from employees are rejected with statements like, “it’s not the way we do things here”, you might be crossing the line into cultish culture.

Elitism 

Organisations that claim special, exalted status can generate polarising us-versus-them thinking. This in turn can pit the organisation against the wider community and divorce organisational values from those of the broader community. Many organisations claim to “only recruit the best”, but when “the best” happen to emulate and follow the rules or standards of the group it should be considered a warning sign.

‘Dear Leader’ syndrome 

‘Dear Leaders’ can create elitism and intimacy among followers, allowing access only to those with unquestioning commitment to their belief system and ideology. Ask yourself who has access to the leader – are dissenting voices allowed, or only ‘yes’ men and women?

They often hold conflicting standards – the rules for followers do not apply to the leader.

When the polished charismatic face of an organisation has an internal following full of devotion to their ideas or ideology, it may be time to be concerned.

These leaders may claim new methods of wealth creation, life success or social influence. Their new solutions or ideology may appear able to solve serious and previously insurmountable problems.

They direct attention towards themselves while feigning humility. In doing so, they create dependency and obedience within an organisation by ensuring the wellbeing of the members is tied to their own wellbeing.

When the polished charismatic face of an organisation has an internal following full of devotion to their ideas or ideology, it may be time to be concerned. They can make it impossible to build a consistent ethical culture within the organisation.

Devotional blindness

Do your colleagues seem unusually committed to their ‘Dear Leader’, their ideology, role, status or wealth? Is worship or adoration being generated for the leader and close followers? Does the organisation seem to be venerated in an unusually fervent way? Devotion and adoration can override decisions people would otherwise make in their life. Blind subservience to the leader, group or ideology in cults can radically alter personal goals and commitments an individual had before joining.

Cults expect members to devote inordinate amounts of time to the group and group-related activities at the expense of self-identify or ties with family and friends. They forget their non-group identity and may fear reprisals if they consider leaving the group.

Ideology and exalted ends 

When zealous attainment of what seems like an extraordinary goal seems prevalent, be concerned. Zeal for greater profit margins and work success can lead leaders and employees alike to rationalise unethical or ill-considered methods.

Zeal for greater profit margins and work success can lead leaders and employees alike to rationalise unethical or ill-considered methods.

Be sceptical of work cultures that drive debilitating schedules or tolerate sleep deprivation and employee burnout. Exaggerated ambitions or an exclusively achievement-oriented culture should also be viewed carefully. Do not tolerate leaders who justify the means only by whether they achieve stipulated goals.

Scapegoating and marginalisation

Most cults rely on intimidation to maintain their organisational identity. They use humiliation and blame to control their members, often through peer pressure and subtle forms of persuasion. When dissent or criticism is not permitted and individuals are marginalised or excluded from decision-making, you have problems.

Fortressing

Be concerned when transparency is admonished or there is widespread fear that rival people or groups are aiming to undermine the organisation. A simple measure of this is the overuse or abuse of confidentiality agreements. The ability for individuals to discuss their business should only be restricted with good reason. Paranoia and secrecy should not undermine professional transparency.

Does any of this sound familiar? You can find examples of any of these situations in organisations at any time. The real danger is when you find recurring clusters of the signals. If you do spot clusters, don’t despair – many organisational cultures have been redeemed by taking a few simple steps.

Click here to learn about the steps you can take to improve your business culture.

Are you currently dealing with an ethical dilemma? A conversation with an objective, independent person can really help. Call Ethi-call, our confidential ethics helpline, on 1800 672 303 for free anywhere in Australia.


Germaine Greer is wrong about trans women and she’s fuelling the patriarchy

I’ve been doing work with and for trans women for about 15 years now. And the thing I tell most audiences at the outset is this – once you know one trans person, you know one trans person. That is all you know.

Germaine Greer has met a few trans women and she has made a decision about all trans women. She has decided that trans women are not women.

I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she is not making such a sweeping statement based on personal and anecdotal evidence. This leaves only biology and theory as ways to determine what defines a woman.

Let’s start with biology.

I believe trans women are not just women, they are female. This is a hang-up on the part of many feminists who are still stuck in some world where biology is destiny. Because if ‘woman’, as de Beauvoir argued, is a social construct, we become women by living as women in the world, by facing oppression based on gender. For some women, that social conditioning starts with birth because of a vagina and a doctor’s declaration. For others, it starts at 15, 45, 75…

There is nothing feminist about asserting the rights of the oppressors over the dignity and value of the oppressed.

Trans women are aware they are female and are meant to have bodies that allow others to gender them correctly. Harry Benjamin, a pioneer in trans issues, saw attempts to change the minds of transgendered people as not only futile but un-Hippocratic. Changing minds caused unnecessarily suffering. So he designed a way to change bodies.

Definitions of sex are based on very little – chromosomes and hormone dominance. The combination of those two is what creates a sexed body, but we also know that bodies with vaginas sometimes come with XY chromosomes and vice versa.

We also really have no idea what part of the brain “tells” us our sex. Mostly, for those of us who are not trans, we never face a disruption between our bodies/glands/hormones and the way we are socialized. Trans people do. Some experience a crippling, brutal disruption. They experience gendered oppression both internally and externally.

Which is all my way of saying ‘female’, like ‘woman’, is an unstable category. Its very definition is changes based on what we know about bodies, chromosomes, hormones, foetal development, and particularly brain sex.

So we turn to theory for a definition of woman instead.

As a feminist my compassion is with those who experience gendered oppression of any kind. My intersectional feminism recognises all women experience gendered oppression in different ways. For black women, gendered oppression is racialized. For poor women, gendered oppression is classed. For trans women, gendered oppression is transphobic.

I don’t know how Germaine Greer missed out on 30+ years of gender theory, positing that woman is a stable, universal and identifiable category. It hasn’t been for a very long time. I also don’t know how she can be any kind of post-structural feminist and not acknowledge that socialization is what makes a woman a woman.

I don’t know of a group of women right now who are more restricted or oppressed by someone else’s definition of ‘woman’ than trans women.

And I don’t know of a group of women right now who are more restricted or oppressed by someone else’s definition of ‘woman’ than trans women (except, of course, black women and lesbians and childfree women and post-menopausal women). ‘Woman’ is, after all, a category of patriarchy’s making.

It pains me to see a feminist borrow tools from the master’s toolbox and call them liberation.

Germaine Greer is wrong. She carries a greater resonance and burden because we expect such remarkable feminism and knowledge from her. She is not dismissible or stupid, but she is still wrong. Everything I know as a feminist is built on inclusion. ‘Woman’ is an alliance, not an identity you choose. It is the sum of all of the parts of what it is to live in a patriarchy and to feel no power and a tremendous threat of violence if you don’t follow the rules.

If there is anyone in the world who is experiencing those things right now, it is trans women. She is not just upsetting people by saying what she says. She is giving those who hate trans women permission to make their lives more miserable. And there is nothing feminist about asserting the rights of the oppressors over the dignity and value of the oppressed.

Her stance is not just harmful and illogical but more than anything else it seems spiteful, exclusive, and lacking in compassion. It is not my feminism, and no feminist worth her salt would exclude other women based on how good or how bad they are at being women. And she is doing exactly that.

Read a different take on trans women and Germaine Greer here, by Aoife Assumpta Hart.


Maggie Beer: Good food can drive better aged care

Cooking guru Maggie Beer has turned her culinary prowess to the considerable task of dishing up better food for the elderly, whether they’re living at home or in aged care. With her team at the Maggie Beer Foundation, she’s coordinating a movement that will bring the healing power of food to those who need it.

“We want to give them the energy to create mobility… So many people in the industry are working so hard often without the support, without the newest thinking or ideas, without the specialised training and without being valued,” Beer explains.

Loneliness and hopelessness can be a challenge to good nutrition. The elderly – especially the bereaved – can struggle to rationalise the effort and expense of cooking for themselves. Not only is it demanding on time and energy, it can be a reminder of loss.

It’s not surprising frozen meals and food delivery services become attractive. But this brings us back to nutrition. “So many of them are ordering Lite n’ Easy!” Beer bemoans. “Nutritionally, it’s the exact opposite of what they need”, which is, among other things, full-fat meals high in protein and calcium.

Better food and better food communities represent a solution. Taking a meal is a traditionally communal enterprise that nourishes the body and the soul.

“Loneliness is a huge thing so we’re trying to bring people together – even once a month – to share a meal and be part of a wider community,” says Beer.

Passion also plays a part. Beer is in the business of cultural change and she wants a passion for food to be part of the solution.

She hopes for “a kitchen culture [in aged care] where chefs and kitchenhands are proud of the food that’s being produced.” This pride in creating beautiful food trickles outward. It creates more energetic residents, but also reveals to staff the therapeutic power of pleasure.

“It makes them [the staff] proud and celebrates those providing the food,” she explains.

Beer is battling against those who allow the elderly merely to exist rather than live a full, enriching life. So is the problem with food in aged care a symptom of the broader social malady – our collective attitudes to ageing?

“It’s endemic”, says Beer. “We need to find those industry leaders who don’t have the preconceived notion that the elderly can be cared for without soul…  I want to create a sense of outrage about [elderly people] who are merely existing.”

Cultural change is important to improve conditions for those in aged care right now. Beer is less concerned about the next generation of elderly.

“Baby Boomers have been making changes all their life – they won’t accept the status quo. But people need help and support now. They’ve lived hard lives and not complained. Now they need to feel valued.”

Beer is no slouch on the pragmatics of cultural change. Her strategy could have been pulled straight from Aristotle who believed ethical role models were necessary for good education. Beer is looking for examples of industry best practice to serve as benchmarks for others.

Using these benchmarks successfully will require leaders who are open to improvement – and a recommitment to the industry values that inform aged care.

“If you have a leader who knows how much good food can give to the resident pleasure and wellbeing, [it creates] a totally different attitude to those who see it as a means of keeping people alive… By finding the great examples, celebrating them and using them as benchmarks, there is so much we can do,” she says.

There are a number of such leaders around. Off the cuff Beer lists a range of projects she knows of or is involved with. From architecture to linguistics and gardening, progress is being made.

It isn’t just about changing the system, but each individual’s attitudes to include the elderly as part of the community. In that spirit, I ask Beer for three dishes every grandchild should be able to cook for their grandparents.

“It should be nutritious, but with lots of flavour and nostalgia”, she says. “Shepherd’s pie, a chicken soup with lots of vegies, and bread-and-butter pudding full of eggs, custard, and cream.”

The German philosopher Ludwig Feuerbach quipped, “philosophers have broken their heads over the question of the bond between body and soul. Now we know… eating and drinking hold together body and soul, that the searched-for bond is nutrition.”

He seems to have found his muse.


Are there any powerful swear words left?

Despite its usefulness when you lock your keys in the house, or forget about a crucial meeting or trip on your child’s toy, people object to swearing. The justifications are usually moral, or quasi-moral. We’re often told swearing is disrespectful, impolite, aggressive, intimidating or insulting.

It is also common to hear a pragmatic objection to swearing. We risk wearing out swear words by saying them too often. If overused, swear words will lose their power to shock. Too much swearing will result in a bland, emotionally inert vocabulary.

Is this true? Is it already happening?

This pragmatic worry is well founded. Philosopher Joel Feinberg remarked that swear words “acquire their strong expressive power in virtue of an almost paradoxical tension between powerful taboo and universal readiness to disobey”. We need the taboo to make swear words powerful in the first place. And we need to break the taboo in order to make use of their power.

If we are too eager to disobey a taboo then we risk losing the taboo. This frequently happens in other areas of life, often for the better. Public displays of homosexuality were shocking 20 years ago but – at least in the UK and many other countries – not now, largely thanks to an increasing visibility and openness about sexuality.

This might be happening with swearing too. There are more opportunities to encounter swearing, due to increasingly liberal attitudes and the proliferation of uncensored discussion on the internet. A report by the BBC and the ASA (the Advertising Standards Authority) found that “fuck” – once close to the pinnacle of offensiveness – is less shocking than it used to be.

We probably have a few years to go before the Queen uses her Christmas Day speech to report that she has had a “fucking shit year”.

But this underestimates the complexity of how we shock people by swearing. While “fuck” is pretty ubiquitous in some situations, there remains a strong taboo against using it in other contexts. We probably have a few years to go before the Queen uses her Christmas Day speech to report that she has had a “fucking shit year” rather than an annus horribilis. It will be a while before your doctor breaks news of your terminal illness by saying, in a most sympathetic voice, “You are totally fucked”.

And even in contexts where we can swear more freely, much depends on how we swear. Your Facebook friends may not bat an eyelid at your Saturday night status update, “Fucking wasted again”.

You might, however, put a few noses out of joint if you respond to their cheerful birthday wishes with a “Fuck you!” Using swear words to shock is not purely a matter of the availability of shocking words.

In any case, even if “fuck” really were to lose its shock value we still have plenty else to choose from. Many people who don’t mind “fuck” still draw the line at “cunt”. If you really want to get someone’s attention in these enlightened times, you could utter a racist or homophobic slur. The offensiveness of this sort of language has increased at the same time as the offensiveness of “fuck” has decreased.

There are persuasive moral reasons why you shouldn’t use prejudicial language, but the issue here is not the ethics of offensive language, but whether we have any powerful swear words left. The availability of shocking words tracks what people find offensive. As long as we remain offended by something or other, we will have the capacity to offend people by referring to it. And if offensive ways to refer to it don’t exist, we can invent them.

If you’re looking for a way to shock and offend, to express anger or to help you cope with the pain of stepping barefoot on a piece of Lego, you don’t need to resort to hate speech. You don’t need to swear either. Just break a few taboos.

Go on Facebook and tell your best friend his new baby is ugly. Tell your boss she’s put on weight. Loudly summarise your preferred masturbation techniques for the benefit of everyone in your train carriage.

Hell, you don’t even need to use language. Give your colleagues the middle finger. Turn up to work naked. Take a dump in the aisle during a church service. Write an online essay replete with swear words and disconcerting examples.

With a little imagination we can find limitless and powerful ways to offend people if that’s what we want to do. We don’t need to give a fuck about whether our favourite swear words are declining in their capacity to shock.


Anthem outrage reveals Australia’s spiritual shortcomings

This article was originally published on The Age.

The decision by Cranbourne Carlisle Primary School in 2015 to allow some of its students a temporary exemption from singing Australia’s national anthem has sparked outrage in some quarters.

Those exempted all belonged to the Shiite faith, a branch of Islam. But I expect these students usually sang the anthem with as much pride as any other Australian child.

However, on this occasion, the opportunity to sing fell during the month of Muharram – a period of mourning during which Shiites remember and honour their founder, Imam Hussein. This is a month of solemnity in which Shiites are to avoid all joyful acts, including singing. It captures some of the tone of the Christian period of Lent which was traditionally a time devoted to pious reflection and avoiding overtly pleasurable activities.

So what might be said about a school’s decision to let children put religious observance ahead of patriotic duty?

There would have been barely a ripple of dissent if the issue had been one of physical capacity.

The first thing to note is there would have been barely a ripple of dissent if the issue had been one of physical capacity. Imagine a young girl who has recently returned to school after throat surgery. She feels fine. Her voice has returned to normal and all discomfort has gone.

However, her doctor has warned she is not to shout or sing for the next month to protect against scarring. She must also avoid dust and smoke, and stay indoors where possible.

Her first day back coincides with the school assembly. By tradition, the school meets under the spreading oaks that are the its finest feature. The classes are formed up around a central pole where the Australian flag is raised each morning as the national anthem is sung by all.

The student wants to join her classmates at assembly and participate equally in the proceedings. Like every child her age, she does not want to stand out from the crowd. But her mother has explained the situation to the school principal, so instead of singing the national anthem with gusto, she finds herself sitting inside her classroom waiting for the others.

Now, would this student, her parents or the school authorities be blamed for not singing the national anthem or for not being at assembly? I think not.

Yet the analogy between this hypothetical and the Carlisle case is good in all respects but one. The risk faced by students at Carlisle was of a spiritual rather than physical order.

The idea of spiritual risk or disorder has become unfamiliar in an increasingly secular society. For many people, it is perplexing that someone might genuinely fear ‘sinful conduct’ or that such a concern takes precedence over civic duty.

Yet not so long ago a majority of Australians believed in hell and the possibility of ‘eternal perdition’. Indeed there are still people who would choose to be imprisoned or die rather than act against their religious beliefs or conscience.

The fact that the spiritual worldview is so unfamiliar to us does not make it any less real or powerful for those who are pious and concerned for the health of their souls.

One might doubt the validity of the metaphysics but not the sincerity of the believers.

The Shiite children of Cranbourne Carlisle Primary School were neither rejecting nor disrespecting Australia when they temporarily withdrew from their assembly. They were protecting their spiritual integrity. They were also accepting the advantages of living in a liberal democratic society that guarantees their right to the peaceful enjoyment of religious freedom.

The children who remained in assembly were singing the national anthem in support of this ideal. For all Australians are young and free.


David Pocock’s rugby prowess and social activism is born of virtue

In the Wallabies’ semi-final match against Argentina, David Pocock played over 70 minutes with a broken nose. Although Adam Ashley-Cooper would walk away as man-of-the-match thanks to a hat-trick of tries, most commentators agree Pocock’s heroics had as much impact on the result as anything else.

Pocock played all 80 minutes, made 13 tackles, ran the ball eight times, broke two tackles and made four turnovers. Despite only playing four games in the World Cup, he leads the tournament for turnovers with 14.

Fox Sports News described him as “the world’s best player” whilst the Sydney Morning Herald labelled him “The single most important player to take the field come Sunday morning”.

None of this should come as much surprise – as a back rower, Pocock’s success is derived as much by will power, courage, and perseverance as it is by skill. And Pocock has it in spades. He explains:

“My parents were always clear with my brothers and I when we were growing up that you have to have the courage of your convictions and that when you commit to something you must fully commit.”

That quote didn’t come from a post-match interview but from one of Pocock’s blog posts following his arrest in December 2014. Unlike some other footballers, Pocock’s arrest wasn’t a boozy 3am affair. A spokesperson for the environment and public supporter of Julia Gillard’s Carbon Tax, he was arrested for a nonviolent protest against Whitehaven’s coal mine at Maules Creek.

Pocock spent around 10 hours chained to a farmer who was, in turn, chained to one of Whitehaven’s superdiggers.

This wasn’t much of a surprise to those following Pocock’s career. He has been outspoken on a range of issues for several years. He and his partner, Emma Palandri, refuse to marry until LGBTQIA+ couples in Australia can do the same. Although describing themselves as married, the pair have not signed the legal documents to verify it. “‘I don’t see the logic in excluding people from making loving commitments to each other,” Pocock explains.

It’s not the only time Pocock has stood up for LGBTQIA+ rights. In a match against the NSW Waratahs earlier this year he reported NSW lock Jacques Potgieter for repeatedly using a homophobic slur. Amidst some criticism (and praise) Pocock refused to yield – even as some speculated it would cost him the Wallabies captaincy.

Pocock has repeatedly put his head on the block for the causes he believes in.

Pocock’s on-field success cannot be readily distinguished from his off-field activism. In a sentiment widely attributed to Aristotle (but actually a summary of his views), “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.”

Courage – or fortitude as Thomas Aquinas called it – is the virtue that enables you to do what you believe to be right despite the difficulties involved. No matter the cost. Not a surprising trait in a man who fellow Wallaby Michael Hooper says “puts his head in some places that are pretty dangerous and gets the ball out”.

After Maules Creek the Australian Rugby Union issued Pocock with a formal warning. They wrote, “While we appreciate David has personal views on a range of matters, we’ve made it clear that we expect his priority to be ensuring he can fulfil his role as a high-performance athlete”.

It’s a tough ask for someone like Pocock to separate his politics from his rugby. Pocock’s on-field success cannot be readily distinguished from his off-field activism.  In a sentiment widely attributed to Aristotle (but actually a summary of his views), “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit”.

Pocock’s courage under fire, his perseverance and his commitment are habits. What makes him a high-performance athlete isn’t just his physical frame but his mental discipline and personal virtue.

We can’t switch virtues on and off when they suit us – we either have them or we don’t. When Pocock gets up to make a crucial tackle or to reach the breakdown a fraction earlier than his rivals to steal the ball he demonstrates the same commitment that saw him support LGBTQIA+ rights, defend the environment, speak about his eating disorder or discuss his faith publicly.

Pocock could no more remain silent off the field than he could hold back on it. His character disposes him to holding fast to what he believes is good. Doing otherwise would dull both his crucial sporting instincts and what makes him an upstanding human being.

You can’t praise Pocock’s on-field achievements whilst also condemning his off-field activism. They’re children of the same beast – his unwavering commitment.

Though there are no doubt those who disagree with Pocock’s views, you can’t praise his on-field achievements whilst also condemning his off-field activism. They’re children of the same beast – his unwavering commitment.

There is ongoing debate regarding whether or not professional athletes should serve as role models. The ability to play sport well doesn’t translate into the moral virtues required in a role model. As Charles Barkley famously remarked, “Just because I dunk a basketball doesn’t mean I should raise your kids.” If Pocock’s prominence both on and off the field are born of the same character traits, then his example allows us to see the role model debate in a new light.

Legendary NFL coach Vince Lombardi once remarked, “The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather, a lack of will”. Had he not died 18 years before David Pocock was born, you’d swear Lombardi was talking about him.


The undeserved doubt of the anti-vaxxer

For the last three years or so I’ve been arguing with anti-vaccination activists. In the process I’ve learnt a great deal – about science denial, the motivations of alternative belief systems and the sheer resilience of falsehood.

Since October 2012 I’ve also been actively involved in Stop the AVN (SAVN). SAVN was founded to counter the nonsense spread by the Australian Vaccination-skeptics Network. According to anti-vaxxers SAVN is a Big Pharma-funded “hate group” populated by professional trolls who stamp on their right to free speech.

I’m afraid the facts are far more prosaic. There’s no Big Pharma involvement – in fact there’s no funding at all. We’re just an informal group of passionate people from all walks of life (including several research scientists and medical professionals) who got fed up with people spreading dangerous untruths and decided to speak out.

When SAVN started in 2009, antivax activists were regularly appearing in the media for the sake of “balance”. This fostered the impression of scientific controversy where none existed. Nowadays, the media understand the harm of false balance and the antivaxxers are usually told to stay home.

There’s a greater understanding that scientists are best placed to say whether or not something is scientifically controversial. (Sadly we can’t yet say the same for the discussion around climate change.) And there’s much greater awareness of how wrong – and how harmful – antivax beliefs really are.

 

 

No Jab, No Pay

This shift in attitudes has been followed by significant legislative change. Last year NSW introduced ‘No Jab, No Play’ rules. These gave childcare centres the power to refuse to enrol non-vaccinated children. Queensland and Victoria are planning to follow suit.

In April, the Abbott government introduced ‘No Jab, No Pay‘ legislation. Conscientious objectors to vaccination could no longer access the Supplement to the Family Tax Benefit Part A payment.

The payment has been conditional on children being vaccinated since 2012, as was the payment it replaced. But until now vaccination refusers could still access the supplement by having a “conscientious objection” form signed by a GP or claiming a religious belief exemption. The new legislation removes all but medical exemptions.

The change closes loopholes that should never have been there in the first place. Claiming a vaccination supplement without vaccinating is rather like a childless person insisting on being paid the Baby Bonus despite being morally opposed to parenthood.

The new rules also make the Child Care Benefit (CCB) and Child Care Rebate (CCR) conditional on vaccinating children. That’s not a trivial impost – estimates at the time of the announcement suggested some families could lose around $15,000 over four years.

What should we make of this? A necessary response to an entrenched problem or a punitive overreaction?

Much of the academic criticism of the policy has been framed in terms of whether it will in fact improve vaccination rates. Conscientious objector numbers do now seem to be falling, although it remains to be seen whether this is due to the new policies.

Embedded in this line of criticism are three premises:

  • Improvements in the overall vaccination rate will come through targeting the merely “vaccine-hesitant” population.
  • Targeting the smaller group of hard core vaccine refusers, accounting for around 2% of families, would be counterproductive.
  • The hard core is beyond the reach of rational persuasion even via benefit cuts.

These are of course empirical questions and open to testing. I suspect the third assumption is true. It’s hard to see how someone who believes the entire medical profession and research sector is either corrupt, inept, or both, or that government and media deliberately hide “the Truth”, would ever be persuaded by evidence from just those sources.

A few antivaxxers even believe the germ theory of disease itself is false. In such cases no amount of time spent with a GP explaining the facts is going to help.

They base their “choices” on beliefs ranging from the ridiculous to the repugnant, but their fundamental objection is that the new policies are coercive.

In recent years, antivax activists have tended to frame their objections to legislation like No Jab, No Pay in terms of individual rights and freedom of choice.

Yes, they base their “choices” on beliefs ranging from the ridiculous to the repugnant (including the claim that Shaken Baby Syndrome is really the result of vaccination not child abuse), but their fundamental objection is that the new policies are coercive. They make the medical procedure of vaccination compulsory, which they regard as a violation of basic human rights.

Part of this isn’t in dispute – these measures are indeed coercive. Whether they amount to compulsory vaccination is a more complex question. In my view they do not, because they withhold payments rather than issuing fines or other sanctions, although that can still be a serious form of coercive pressure. Such moves also have a disproportionate impact on families who are less well-off, revealing a broader problem with using welfare to influence behaviour.

Nonetheless, it’s not particularly controversial that the state can use some coercive power in pursuit of public health goals. It does so in a range of cases – from taxing cigarettes to fining people for not wearing seatbelts. Of course there is plenty of room for disagreement about how much coercion is acceptable. Recent discussion in Canberra about so-called “nanny state” laws reflects such debate.

But vaccination doesn’t fall into the nanny state category because vaccination decisions aren’t just made by and for individuals. Several different groups rely on herd immunity to protect them. Herd immunity can only be maintained if vaccination rates within the community are kept at high levels. By refusing to contribute to a collective good they enjoy, vaccine refusers provide a classic example of the Free Rider Problem.

No Jab, No Pay legislation is not about people making vaccination decisions for themselves, but on behalf of their children. The suggestion that parents have some sort of absolute right to make health decisions for their children just doesn’t hold water. Children aren’t property, nor are our rights to parent our children how we see fit absolute. No-one thinks the choice to abuse or starve one’s child should be protected, for example.

And that gives lie to the “pro-choice” argument against these laws – not all choices deserve respect.

The suggestion that parents have some sort of absolute right to make health decisions for their children just doesn’t hold water. Children aren’t property, nor are our rights to parent our children how we see fit absolute.

Thinking in a vacuum

The pro-choice argument depends on the unspoken assumption there is room for legitimate disagreement about the harms and benefits of vaccination. That gets us to the heart of what motivates a great deal of anti-vaccination activism – the issue of who gets to decide what is empirically true.

Antivax belief may play on the basic human fears of hesitant parents but the specific contents of those beliefs don’t come out of nowhere. Much of it emerges from what sociologists have called the “cultic milieu” – a cultural space that trades in “forbidden” or “suppressed” knowledge. This milieu is held together by a common rejection of orthodoxy for the sake of rejecting orthodoxy. Believe whatever you want – so long as it’s not what the “mainstream” believes.

This sort of epistemic contrarianism might make you feel superior to the “sheeple”, the unawake masses too gullible, thick or corrupted to see what’s really going on. It might also introduce you to a network of like-minded people who can act as a buffer from criticism. But it’s also a betrayal of the social basis of knowledge – our radical epistemic interdependency.

The thinkers of the Enlightenment bid us sapere aude, to “dare to know” for ourselves. Knowledge was no longer going to be determined by religious or political authority, but by capital-r Reason. But that liberation kicked off a process of knowledge creation that became so enormous specialisation was inevitable. There is simply too much information now for any one of us to know it all.

Talk to antivaxxers and it becomes clear they’re stuck on page one of the Enlightenment project. As Emma Jane and Chris Fleming have recently argued, adherence to an Enlightenment conception of the individual autonomous knower drives much conspiracy theorising. It’s what happens when the Enlightenment conception of the individual as sovereign reasoner and sole source of epistemic authority confronts a world too complex for any individual to understand everything.

As a result of this complexity we are reliant on the knowledge of others to understand the world. Even suspicion of individual claims, persons, or institutions only makes sense against massive background trust in what others tell us.

Accepting the benefits of science requires us to do something difficult – it requires us to accept the word of people we’ve never met who make claims we can never fully assess.

Accepting the benefits of science requires us to do something difficult – something nothing in our evolutionary heritage prepares us to do. It requires us to accept that the testimony of our direct senses no longer has primary authority. And it requires us to accept the word of people we’ve never met who make claims we can never fully assess.

Anti-vaxxers don’t like that loss of authority. They want to think for themselves, but they don’t accept we can’t think in a vacuum. We do our thinking against the background of shared standards and processes of reasoning, argument and testimony. Rejecting those standards by making claims that go against the findings of science without using science isn’t “critical thinking”. No more than picking up the ball and throwing it is “better soccer”.

This point about authority tells us something ethically important too. Targeting the vaccine-hesitant rather than the hard core refusers makes a certain kind of empirical sense.

But it’s important to remember the hard core are the source of the misinformation that misleads the hesitant. In the end, the harm caused by antivax beliefs is due to people who abuse the responsibility that comes with free speech. Namely, the responsibility to only say things you’re entitled to believe are true.

Most antivaxxers are sincere in their beliefs. They honestly do think they’re doing the right thing by their children. That these beliefs are sincere, however, doesn’t entitle them to respect and forbearance. William Kingdon Clifford begins his classic 1877 essay The Ethics of Belief with a particularly striking thought experiment.

A shipowner was about to send to sea an emigrant-ship. He knew that she was old, and not well built at the first; that she had seen many seas and climes, and often had needed repairs. Doubts had been suggested to him that possibly she was not seaworthy. These doubts preyed upon his mind and made him unhappy; he thought that perhaps he ought to have her thoroughly overhauled and refitted, even though this should put him at great expense. Before the ship sailed, however, he succeeded in overcoming these melancholy reflections.

He said to himself that she had gone safely through so many voyages and weathered so many storms that it was idle to suppose she would not come safely home from this trip also. He would put his trust in Providence, which could hardly fail to protect all these unhappy families that were leaving their fatherland to seek for better times elsewhere. He would dismiss from his mind all ungenerous suspicions about the honesty of builders and contractors.

In such ways he acquired a sincere and comfortable conviction that his vessel was thoroughly safe and seaworthy; he watched her departure with a light heart, and benevolent wishes for the success of the exiles in their strange new home that was to be; and he got his insurance-money when she went down in mid-ocean and told no tales.

Note that the ship owner isn’t lying. He honestly comes to believe his vessel is seaworthy. Yet Clifford argues, “the sincerity of his conviction can in no way help him, because he had no right to believe on such evidence as was before him.”

In the 21st century nobody has the right to believe scientists are wrong about science without having earned that right through actually doing science. Real science, mind you, not untrained armchair speculation and frenetic googling. That applies as much to vaccination as it does to climate change, GMOs and everything else.

We can disagree about the policy responses to the science in these cases. We can also disagree about what financial consequences should flow from removing non-medical exemptions for vaccination refusers. But removing such exemptions sends a powerful signal.

We are not obliged to respect harmful decisions grounded in unearned beliefs, particularly not when this harms children and the wider community.


HSC exams matter – but not for the reasons you think

Every year at around the time of the Higher School Certificate (HSC) exams, the same messages appear. The HSC isn’t everything – don’t stress! One year the then NSW premier Mike Baird weighed in with, “Life isn’t defined by your exams. It begins after they have finished.”

I remember getting those messages when I did the HSC but they seemed hard to swallow at the time. I’d spent 13 years being told of the importance of school marks and HSC results. High achievers earned awards. The importance of ‘rankings’ put me in competition with my peers and I measured success in Band Sixes.

If we’re going to convince students not to stress too much about results we need to do more than tell them to relax.

If we’re going to convince students not to stress too much about results we need to do more than tell them to relax. Years of conditioning makes students believe the HSC and Australian Tertiary Admission Rank (ATAR) scores have the power to determine their future. For some, the numbers can determine their self-worth.

What we need to do is explain the moral place of education in our lives and how the HSC sits in relation to it.

Why do we worry about academic achievement at all?

One reason is because we recognise knowledge and learning as being beneficial to society. Prime minister Malcolm Turnbull talks to anyone who will listen about the importance of an agile innovation economy. Such an economy relies on creative thinking and education.

Sadly, we live in a world where not every person can receive an education. Still, if we’re wise, we can make sure that every person can benefit from education. As French philosopher Michel Foucault wrote, “knowledge is power”.

Knowledge controlled by a privileged few is a recipe for dictatorship. Used wisely it can provide the power to make our imperfect world a little bit better.

We don’t just value knowledge because it’s useful. Not all learning leads to new inventions, helps the poor or changes the world. That doesn’t mean it’s pointless. Knowledge is ‘intrinsically good’. Learning for learning’s sake is a completely reasonable and very human activity.

Excelling in academic life also takes more than just knowledge or intellect. It requires a curious mind, perseverance and open-mindedness among other things.

In this sense, the HSC results do matter. They show the extent to which students have developed certain virtues of mind and character.

The HSC is an opportunity to reflect on the huge amount of knowledge gained over years of education … It does not predict the future.

What can this tell us about the HSC? A few things. First, the praise we heap on high achievers is not only about the number itself but about the virtues demonstrated in achieving the mark. These virtues aren’t unique to students who score high marks.

Some high-achieving students might be getting by on natural ability rather than any special virtue. This means the final result matters less than the way it was achieved.

Second, the HSC is an opportunity to reflect on the huge amount of knowledge gained over years of education. It’s a chance for students to be proud of what they’ve learned. But that’s all it is. The HSC tells students what they have learned up until this point. It does not predict the future.

Many people who have struggled with exams have flourished and many who have excelled in school have struggled in the real world. The markers of success in school, work and life cannot be fully represented in a single number – much less the worth or value of a person.

Finally, excellence in academic life takes more than individual virtue. It takes a decent slice of luck and help from others. Individual academic achievement is the product of collective effort. Teachers, parents, friends and factors beyond our control help determine both our success and our failure. This provides a dash of both perspective and humility.

HSC marks and ATAR scores try to represent a range of complex processes in a useful and efficient way. But it is those processes that really matter – not the final number itself.