We must address the asylum seeker debate with decency, maturity and humility. We should accept many more refugees, and at the same time encourage other countries to do so too. There's really very little downside to this, save for the political ramifications of xenophobia. The world collectively might not be interested in finding a safe home for all its refugees, and so if we let refugees come to us, they will certainly continue to do so. We might prefer that their lives were not further jeopardised by the journey, but, having arrived, it's an utter perversion of human decency for us to turn them away, no matter how much we'd like to discourage further risky voyages. We must not create disincentives that rely on penalising innocent people; we have no right to play chess with human beings.

We must get some perspective on the economy; it is not a blanket reason for putting aside all other problems. Yes, it's important. No, we are not teetering on the edge of starvation. Panic is precisely the thing that causes economic problems in the first place. Basically, let the disinterested economic experts make rational, progressive decisions based on careful, objective modelling, and ensure there is a safety net for the poor. Everyone else, suck it up.

We must continue to insist that our politicians get off their conservative arses and legalise same-sex marriage. This is truly a no-brainer. The arguments against it are utterly, unequivocally spurious, and will dissipate like so much hot air once the requisite legislation is passed. Nobody opposes same-sex marrige for any substantive reason, but basically just "because". Once legalised, the whole "debate" will be relegated to the inane murmurings of ineffectual dinosaurs. (Do politicians fear a backlash from voters angry that their marriages are suddenly devoid of meaning following the gender requirements being dropped?)

For the love of humanity can we please redouble efforts to improve the health and living standards of those living in remote Aboriginal communities? Of course it won't be done in a year. It's not just about grand rhetorical gestures — though these have their place — and it's certainly not about sending in the army. We have a lot of smart, dedicated people who have been on the case for some time, and surely by now we've learnt a thing or two about what can usefully be done, given sufficient government funding.

The climate change debate is not over, and won't be for decades. We must not lose sight of the fact that the goal, in the end, is zero (or even negative) carbon emissions. The purpose of a carbon price is not simply to reduce emissions, but ultimately to price them out of existence. To make this work, alternatives must exist. Australia should, by all rights, be a world-leader in solar energy. We could be a world-leader in all kinds of renewable energy. Surely there is much more scope for public and private funding of renewable energy research. We might only contribute 1.5% of the world's greenhouse gas emissions, but renewable energy research could help reduce everyone's emissions, not just our own.

Recycled drinking water — get used to the idea, people. Water efficiency is vastly more important than your squeamishness; there's really no rational objection. Even now, the water you drink has already passed through the digestive tracts of a trillion different organisms, without any technological assistance. Water recycling is the lowest-hanging fruit for securing our water supplies (especially in places like Perth that are drying out). Why would we ignore it in favour of energy-intensive desalination  or enormous engineering works to transport water from thousands of kilometres away? Yes, we can build wind farms, tidal generators, etc. to power desalination plants, but we could be using that power to replace coal, not just to replace water.

The location of the Square Kilometre Array (SKA) — the world's largest telescope, and one of the world's largest scientific projects — will be decided in 2012: either Australia or South Africa. Let's step back from the parochial contest. Australia might not get it, but would this be such a terrible outcome, all things considered? Maybe Africa would benefit more from this project than Australia. Besides the raw economics, the presence of such visible, cutting edge science must have some inspirational effect. Scientists can travel, but for young Africans trying to discern their opportunities in life, a local SKA would surely leave an impression.¹

Finally, in an Olympic year, let's not lose sight of our non-sporting heroes. A nation defined by sport is a nation not defined by its doctors, lawyers, scientists, engineers and other professionals. Sport is exciting, and important in its own way, but not really on the same scale as curing illness, defending human rights, exploring the universe and creating things that have never existed before.

Now, you lot, get started on that while I take a holiday.

1. The same would be true of young Australians, but we are relatively spoiled for choice.

accountability. 1. (n.) The state of being duly sniped at while virtuously refraining from voicing any counterargument that would draw attention to the ridiculousness of the snipes. 2. hold to account (v.) To uphold democracy by sniping at one's opponents.

ban (v.) To voice an opinion that something is perhaps not entirely constructive. Examples include: (a) to suggest that Lord Monckton is not conducive to an informed debate on climate change, and (b) to suggest that junk food advertising during children's TV programming is not conducive to public health. Also, fascism.

balance (n.) A journalistic ideal whereby truth and rationality are kept in check by things that aren't true or rational.

come clean (v.) In response to an innocuous misunderstanding, to suddenly, unreservedly and inexplicably admit the most outlandishly horrible interpretation of events. This is entirely hypothetical but nonetheless widely anticipated, as shown by its most common usage, "When will _____ come clean on …?". For instance, in response to the question, "When will the minister come clean on budget figures?", said minister may choose to either truthfully describe the dry nuances of the budget, or "come clean" by spontaneously blurting out that tax revenue is being siphoned off for secret genetic experiments on pregnant mothers.

debate. 1. (n.) A choreographed joint press conference held by exactly two people who hate each other. 2. (in parliament) (v.) To toe the line by reiterating talking points, after all decision making has concluded.

democracy (n.) A system of government in which the protagonist wins.

free speech (n.) The right of the media to report in an unrestricted fashion anything that is misleading, voyeuristic, harmful to powerless individuals, or demonstrably false.

hypocrisy (n.) An assumed failure to adhere to someone else's distorted interpretation of one's own principles. Hence, a hypocrite is a person who has principles that are possible to misinterpret.

mandate (n.) An obligation of government to behave according to whoever is talking.

message. 1. (n.) A narrative invented by politicians to alleviate journalists from their own jobs. 2. send a message (v.) To commit an act of extraordinary and disproportionate stupidity in the blind hope that others will back off.

not rich (adj.) Having a second percentile income (excluding those who can't work or can't find work).

political correctness (n.) A diffuse, pathological quality of all progressive social movements that utterly devastates the lives of the well-off.

public interest (n.) The set of things that people will pay money for despite their better judgement. Hence, the sexual activities of famous people are in the public interest, whereas information on their public responsibilities is not.

tax (n.) Anything complicated done by the government that involves money. Hence, poker machines involve money, so any government policy concerning poker machines is a tax.

values (n.) A set of unspecified attributes we possess that makes us better than everyone else. Hence, a "values"-based electoral campaign is one in which voters are simply reminded of how wonderfully amazing they are.

win (in a debate) (v.) To voice arguments with which the speaker broadly agrees.

Those less fortunate among us are, on occasion, forcibly sent to a distant (and somewhat two-dimensional) realm of existence to undertake grueling mental labour: the marking of student submissions.

I have mapped this land from what little remains of my mind after many hours crossing its ragged terrain, with naught but a red pen and enormous supplies of chocolate.

]]> http://davec.org/2011/11/the-land-of-marking/feed/ 0 http://davec.org/2011/10/a-travellers-guide-to-chogm-security-area/ http://davec.org/2011/10/a-travellers-guide-to-chogm-security-area/#comments Fri, 28 Oct 2011 08:52:46 +0000 Dave C http://davec.org/?p=1933 I had a nice lunch today in a little place called CHOGM Security Area.

This is, in fact, a microstate similar to the Vatican City, though it requires a little explanation. CHOGM Security Area (CSA) is an Indeterminocracy; it has many different leaders (including both Prime Ministers and Presidents), none of whom have any power over each other. Nonetheless, civil disturbance is kept to a minimum as fully half of the population is employed in the nation's pervasive security force. (The other half seems to consist of the leaders themselves, and some slightly dazed Australian tourists, like myself.)

It was this security force that won a brief war against neighbouring Australia on the night of Thursday 27 October, to secure CSA independence. Despite the size disparity, CSA forces rapidly overwhelmed the Australian resistance. An uneasy peace now exists between the two sides. The flag of one of CSA's leaders - the Queen - flies over Government House, though some holdouts in other parts of CSA territory defiantly continue to fly Australian flags. To save face, the Australian government now claims that the annexed territory was voluntarily gifted to CSA in the spirit of bilateral co-operation. Thus, today marks the inaugural CHOGM Security Area Independence Day. However, I have since learnt that a renewed offensive by CSA forces may take place tomorrow to capture the highground at King's Park.

The main street running through CSA is The Terraces. Unfortunately, CSA is largely inaccessible by car, except for security personnel and the various leaders (which, admittedly, is most of the population). However, a number of buses do take tourists on sight-seeing tours. I attempted to see CSA on bike. On passing through the Australia-CSA border checkpoint, I was instructed to dismount. Not knowing CSA laws or customs, I obliged, though later discovered that cycling in general is permitted. I briefly feared my cycling top being mistaken for one of the hundreds of fluorescent yellow uniforms worn by security personnel, but nobody questioned me. Possibly that colour is a sign of privilege in this unusual society.

Accommodation in CSA is essentially non-existent for tourists, though there is a rudimentary camping site a short distance across the border in Forrest Place. I cannot personally comment on the level of service there (having planned a day-trip), but I suspect it may be rather noisy at times.

It was a little deflating to finally leave CHOGM Security Area. There was still much to learn about how a country with so many leaders can possibly get anything done. However, for a taste of something a little different, I can highly recommend it.

David Marr eloquently describes just how low Bolt actually sank, and also gives this important context:

The nine [who took Bolt to court] chose not to sue. They did not want damages but a public correction and a promise not to print such stuff again. So they brought an action under the Racial Discrimination Act, which has embedded in it a strong freedom-of-speech defence: insulting or humiliating people because of their race or colour is not unlawful when it is done "reasonably and in good faith" in pursuit of a matter of public interest.

Jonathan Holmes maintains that this is nonetheless about free speech, and discusses the relevant sections from the Act: 18C and 18D. Section 18C describes the kinds of behaviours considered racially intolerant and thus unlawful. Section 18D overrides it, making allowances for (basically) anything done, as Marr quotes, "reasonably and in good faith".

Holmes is concerned that Justice Bromberg has set the bar too high, making 18D essentially useless:

[Justice Bromberg] specifically mentions, not just the wrong facts, but "the derisive tone, the provocative and inflammatory language and the inclusion of gratuitous asides."

In other words, if you want the protection of section 18D of the act when writing about race in a way that's likely to offend, you need to be polite, not derisive, calm and moderate rather than provocative and inflammatory, and you must eschew 'gratuitous asides'.

If you did all that, of course, you'd be unlikely to offend anyone in the first place. So there doesn't seem much point in section 18D. And you'd also struggle to express your view in a way that would attract readers in a popular newspaper.

But consider Justice Bromberg's whole sentence (in paragraph 425):

The lack of care and diligence is demonstrated by the inclusion in the Newspaper Articles of the untruthful facts and the distortion of the truth which I have identified, together with the derisive tone, the provocative and inflammatory language and the inclusion of gratuitous asides. For those reasons I am positively satisfied that Mr Bolt’s conduct lacked objective good faith.

I have underlined the parts quoted directly by Holmes, and made bold certain parts not quoted. To my untrained, unqualified eye, Holmes is misreading the judgement. From my reading, Justice Bromberg is not suggesting that offensive language in itself renders 18D inapplicable; he is talking about offensive language in the context of untruths and distortions. The combination of those two is damning in a way that neither can be by itself. To me, it seems entirely possible that the protections of 18D could apply to anyone who (a) is wrong but avoids derision, provocation, etc. or conversely (b) is right but in a derisive, provocative, etc. manner.

Thus, I have no problem imagining, hypothetically, that Sections 18C and 18D might both apply. That is, someone may be insulted, offended, humiliated or intimidated (18C) by material that is (a) wrong but politely worded, or (b) right but derisively worded (18D). (In fact, people can often be insulted and offended by things that are both correct and polite.)

I do have a great deal of respect for Holmes. Maybe I'm misreading the judgement and Holmes is correct. Even so — even if the Racial Discrimination Act is too broad and infringes genuine free speech — consider the consequences for those violating the act. As Malcolm Farnsworth points out, in an article delightfully named "Help, help, I'm being repressed":

There is no penalty for Bolt.  Removal of two blog posts and an apology will satisfy Justice Bromberg. It's slap on the wrist time, but the confected outrage has poured forth.

So what are we getting worked up over? Why should we fear this judgement, when the most onerous consequence of engaging in racially offensive speech is the requirement for an apology?

I think we've been programmed by contemporary political narratives to treat free speech as one of those places where, perversely, we stop thinking. We exhibit such conditioned deference to the term "free speech" that we consider it an absolute right. As a result, we have a tendency to focus on the most minute of infringements. It's all-or-nothing, we assume. The pedants in all of us seek out the most trivial, technical, legalistic injustices. We then swing wildly into conspiracy theorist mode, and extrapolate this to the whole of human experience, imagining that tyrannical oppression is upon us.

Of course, free speech has never been an absolute right; not in the freest societies on Earth. We are constrained by myriad factors in what we can say, which makes worrying about technical infringements all the more ridiculous. Defamation law is the closest approximation to the Racial Discrimination Act, and we don't blink when people are sanctioned for spreading malicious untruths to damage the reputations of others. As the Slightly Disgruntled Scientist puts it:

The difference is that defamation affects one person. Humiliation based specifically on sexuality, gender, ethnicity, or any other class of institutional marginalisation affects (a) the person targeted, and (b) any other member of such a group. Gay people still have to choose between publicly disclosing incredibly private information up front, or not running for any kind of publicly scrutinised office. Indigenous Australians now have to consider just whether their skin is dark enough to go for, say, an Aboriginal liason position, or risk being targeted by the likes of Bolt (who implicitly undermines the legitimacy of such positions, with the consequence of further marginalisation of a whole group of people).

Now, I do think that free speech is essentially about protecting our right to say things that others would prefer remained unsaid. Powerful political parties and interest groups do tend to find certain facts and opinions inconvenient, and have certain means of persuasion that need to be countered by legal protections. But it's hard to find a justification for speech that is racially offensive and factually bogus and not in good faith. This sort of thing does not serve democracy at any level, and in fact causes real damage.

If Mr Bolt's right to speak freely has been infringed, it is the most minor infringement imaginable. He has maliciously spread damaging untruths in publications read by millions of people, and been given a slap on the wrist.

I was about to declare myself wrong over the "incompetence" tag (but certainly not the "unconscionable" tag). It occurred to me that perhaps Labor was playing a Machiavellian political game to ensure that the "boat people" moral dilemma went away for good. They would put up with whatever short-term political damage they might incur, on the basis that eventually the policy really would actually stop the boats. If anyone arriving by boat really was transported to a place as hostile to refugees as Malaysia, it can't have been long before Bowen's logic - "breaking the people smugglers' business model" - was borne out. The original crimes - abandoning the most vulnerable to stop anyone else even trying to ask for help - would eventually be forgiven by an amnesic electorate too wrapped up in future political issues. If the boats stopped, then it would no longer be necessary to invoke the policy, and so it would become invisible.

But no, not content to abandon human rights, Labor really does seem to have a political death wish. Once the High Court had made its ruling, it could have been foreseen that Abbott would block any attempt to change the law. He ostensibly wants to "stop the boats" too, and in that capacity the Government's argument makes sense. Except that's really not what he wants to do at all; at least, not until he becomes Prime Minister himself. As long as refugees continue to make the voyage from Indonesia to Australian waters, a disconcertingly large proportion of voters will continue to be outraged at the Government's apparent inability to "protect our borders", and will (by a trivial process of elimination) look to Abbott instead. Thus, for the moment, Abbott has a crucial political interest, perversely, in ensuring the boats do not stop.

Abbott did not have any power to actually act in this interest until the High Court ruling (along with the Greens' opposition to off-shore processing). Now that his support is needed, he can casually mull over the effectiveness of any Government proposal, and then vote perversely. The likelihood of Abbott supporting any change is inversely proportional to its likely effectiveness (and legal robustness), because that's what maximises his political advantage. Bowen has attempted to call him out on this, but Abbott plays the rhetorical game much more skillfully. The Government was extraordinarily foolish to even attempt negotiations under these circumstances.

Now, the Government has an untenable policy - both morally bankrupt and politically dead. If Labor had bitten the bullet and gone with the Left faction's push for on-shore processing of asylum seekers, their policy would instead have been both (relatively) humane and politically viable. The issue would not have magically disappeared, of course - many "patriots" would continue be outraged at the thought of the hordes of persecuted foreigners being given safety and comfort. But what can be done about this? The issue will not disappear now no matter what the Government does.

Meanwhile, Abbott is seizing the moral high ground (rhetorically, at least) on asylum seekers - something many Liberals have long given up on. His excuse for not supporting the Malaysian Solution is that there are insufficient protections for those sent there. This excuse has the advantage of actually being a perfectly valid reason. I continue to say "excuse" though, because I've seen too much political expediency from Abbott to have any faith in his adherence to actual principles. The Malaysian Solution would have been a masterstroke of Coalition genius if Abbott had thought of it. But that's hypothetical, and not many people are likely to care.

Abbott may yet "slip up" in a moment of uncharacteristic honesty, but I'm not counting on it. Indeed, I can only applaud his rejection of this particular policy, regardless of his actual reasons. I suspect the only way out for the Government is still to abandon off-shore processing, and live with the consequences. Of course, it may prefer its own approach of bludgeoning itself to death.

While Stephens propounds his notion of "chic" and "fashionable" atheism, I sense that his own lines of reasoning are sculpted by the vacuous fashions of anti-atheist campaigning. Stephens' opening mention of atheism (which actually occurs well into his article) goes like this:

There are few things today more fashionable, more suited to our modern conceit, than atheism. In fact, far from being radical or heroically contrarian, the current version of atheism strikes me as the ultimate conformism.

This rather depends on your definition of atheism, and also the societal context. The increasing number of non-religious people in Australia probably does create a context in which absence of belief is an aspect of conformance. However, it is debatable whether these people are true atheists, for whom the argument itself is of fundamental importance. Atheism is not just the absence of belief, but the rejection of it, and you cannot reject something that you haven't truly thought about. I think Stephens' talk of "ultimate conformism" is a product of his own over-eagerness to see irreligious society as a uniform cesspit of unspeakableness, rather than any careful, objective observation.

Stephens goes on to make another familiar complaint:

This is especially apparent in the case of the slipshod, grotesquely sensationalist "New Atheism" - invariably renounced by principled, literate atheists like James Wood, Thomas Nagel, John Gray, Philip Pullman and the late Bernard Williams - which poses no serious challenge to our most serious social ills and so has no other alternative but to blame our social ills in toto on religion.

Who, among the atheists of this world, blames everything on religion? That seems rather an extreme interpretation of atheism.

Science and education are the crucial mechanisms by which atheism proposes to address social ills. Different atheists take different views on the extent of religious interference in science and education. In Australia, it seems quite minimal. In the US, religion poses a real threat to science education, and thus to science itself and the employment prospects of the next generation. In Africa, religion continues to obstruct the fight against AIDS, by opposing contraception. If atheism "poses no serious challenge" to such problems, it is only because religion is already too powerful.

Stephens then explains the root cause of atheism:

Our real problem today is the impoverishment of the modern mind, our inability to think properly about such elevated things as the Good, Beauty, Truth, Law, Love, Life, Death, Humanity, the End or Purpose of things, even Sex itself, without such ideas being debased by an incurious and all-pervasive nihilism.

And hence it is altogether unsurprising that, when we can't even think clearly about such lower-order goods, the highest Good, and what philosophy once regarded as the ultimate object of human contemplation - namely, God himself - is beyond our imaginations.

If we are to "think properly" about Good, Beauty, Truth, etc., then my first question would be what "properly" means. It seems just slightly sinister, as though there are Correct thoughts and Incorrect thoughts. Meanwhile, actual scepticism doesn't really fit into Stephens' picture at all - you either unconditionally acknowledge God's supreme Goodness, or you are utterly ignorant of God, having succumbed to "incurious and all-pervasive nihilism". There can be no genuine questioning of God, except for that which leads to the appropriately sanctioned conclusion.

Moreover, it is equally unsurprising that when the New Atheists do speak of "God," their god is just as vulgar and petty and agonistic as their conceptions of morality, gender, politics and sex. When they speak thus about "God," are they not just seeing what is worst in ourselves?

"Their" god? The god discussed by New Atheists is the god of the masses - the being actually worshipped by countless millions of people - not some Freudian fantasy. That's the point of New Atheism; it bypasses theologians and theological arguments and talks directly to the actual beliefs of real people.

Moreover, what does Stephens have in mind, precisely, when he alludes to substandard atheistic notions of morality, gender, politics and sex? Is he simply conflating atheism with everything else he doesn't like? Perhaps we are seeing what is worst in ourselves, but if so then it's the New Atheists who are trying to improve things.

Stephens moves on to what he considers a "desperate contradiction" at the heart of "atheistic hyperbole":

But they also claim that all religion is "man made," and self-evidently so. This begs the question: if religion is indeed this all-pervasive source of corruption and prejudice and moral retardation, where do they believe that religion itself comes from, if not the human imagination?

Correct, Mr Stephens - you have understood the contention, albeit through circuitous, tautological reasoning in which you conclude your own premise. Stephens does eventually come to the point:

And so, as Bernard Williams puts the question:

"if humanity has invented something as awful as [these atheists] take religion to be, what should that tell them about humanity? In particular, can humanity really be expected to do much better without it?"

And so, it would seem that we are left with an unavoidable choice: either these atheists are really misotheists, God-haters, who rage against the very idea of God, the Good, Truth and Law, and so desperately try to will God out of existence; …

I think we can discount that absurd possibility, Mr Stephens. The "Atheists hate God" meme simply arises from some people not wanting to believe that actual atheism is actually psychologically possible.

…or their oft-professed faith in the inherent human capacity for progress is without justification; …

Without justification? Atheists accept human frailty, therefore our belief in humanity's capacity for progress is without justification? I think not, Mr Stephens, but I'll get back to this shortly.

…or the history of religion reflects the extraordinary human capacity to pursue the Good, as well as its equally pronounced tendency for Evil, idolatry and nihilism.

Well yes, it does¹. However, I don't see how this addresses atheists' contention that religion is made up. If anything, this actually supports it.

But let's get back to Bernard Williams' point - the middle option in Stephens list of alternatives - which is a terribly simplistic piece of reasoning. Atheists do generally argue that (a) religion is both a product of and a burden on humanity, but that (b) humanity can ultimately take care of itself. These are in some respects contradictory notions, but they do not really undermine each other. Atheists do not contend that religion wipes out all that is good in humanity. It's a matter of scale and perspective. We might well regard religion as evidence of humanity's flaws, but religion is not a sufficiently bad idea to write off humanity altogether, and few atheists would think it was. Atheists would contend that religion is a mistake of humanity, but a mistake that we, as a species and a global civilisation, can learn from. It's that learning process that constitutes progress, in my mind.

The definition of progress that Mr Stephens supports might be extrapolated from his closing remarks:

I often hear atheists insist that they do not need God in order to be good. But if I am in any way accurate in what I have argued here, we are faced with a far more destructive possibility: that without God, there simply is no Good.

Yes, Mr Stephens. Without God you might be forced to settle for "good", rather than "Good". Oh the humanity.

1. I don't see human endeavour bifurcated into Good and Evil, though. That reminds me too much of politics, and I would hate for the universe itself to succumb to such petty notions.

The Labor Party is busy saving whatever face it can, but this is really very hard to spin. I fervently hope its strategists are even now exchanging self-conscious glances, recognition dawning of the sheer arrogance and stupidity of what they tried to accomplish.

One of the ABC's opening articles on the great event generated comments that fell neatly and predictably into two camps. This time neither group wanted to take a stand alongside the architects of unconscionable incompetence. Nevertheless, the two popular messages made an interesting contrast. Half the commenters applauded the High Court's decision - a very honest and straightforward show of respect for the rights of refugees.

The other half are tied up in a complicated psycho-political game, in which the decision itself is not opposed, but its consequences are nonetheless an object of outrage. "The government can't do anything right," they opine, citing the High Court's decision as evidence. This is fair comment, as far as it goes (though in my view Labor's actual level of incompetence doesn't begin to compare to the stratospheric reaches of Abbott's self-contradictory, populist whinging, and in general this government is not significantly more or less incompetent than any other government). You have to ask, though, what principles this group of commenters has in mind when they voice such opinions. It certainly isn't a defence of the rights of refugees.

For someone arguing on the basis of actual principles, the High Court's decision is either justified or not and fortunate or unfortunate (or perhaps some shade of grey in between). I don't think this group especially cares whether the High Court was justified or not. What they care about is the gotcha moment, when everything falls (neatly or otherwise) into their Outraged Voters(tm) narrative structure beloved of the Opposition.

This is precisely the kind of thing that political parties in opposition do, as part of the "small target" strategy. They snipe at the government (which they preciously call "holding the government to account") without ever nailing down any of their own principles, or indeed being remotely constructive. It's more depressing to see this behaviour reproduced in (relatively) ordinary people, many of whom are presumably not party members¹. It's something deeper than the mere chanting of slogans. Ordinary people themselves script narratives and find political gotchas, almost synchonised, along the same lines as high-profile ideologues. Their rhetorical scheming seems intended to change minds, but is fairly ineffectual because they're the bottom level of a giant rhetorical mind-control pyramid scheme.

For the Opposition and its hangers-on, all our hopes and dreams seem to rest on a tiny, dysfunctional island. It's always on the tips of their tongues, and slips out at the merest hint of trouble with "boat people".

To its comparative credit, which is not saying much, the Opposition's Nauru option is only the second worst asylum seeker processing "solution" to have ever been proposed. It does at least provide a pathway to asylum, and in doing so it does still protect at least some rights. However, in the end, it's precisely this protection of rights that will completely erode any deterrent effect - which of course is the whole reason for the policy in the first place. Any deterrent effect - i.e. a reduction in the "pull" factor - can only result from the perception that refugees will not ultimately be granted asylum. In our care, they must eventually be granted asylum, and perception must eventually catch up to this reality. We cannot, legally or morally, simply leave asylum seekers to their own devices in the middle of nowhere, as the High Court seems to have reaffirmed. Once prospective asylum seekers are tuned in to this fact, any off-shore processing "solution" simply becomes a circuitous bureaucratic construct, whose dubious rationale vanishes altogether.

The Coalition may point proudly to the immediate impact of its Pacific Solution as evidence that putting asylum seekers in the middle of nowhere "works", but the limited data available is badly over-interpreted. The policy coincided with a dramatic decline in global asylum seeker numbers - the "push" factors - which masked its true impact. What impact it did have could not possibly have been permanent.

Nevertheless, I'm sure there are boundless prospects for further inventive stupidity on this.

1. Some of them might be, but party membership in Australia isn't terribly high overall.

I stumbled across the Galileo Movement largely by way of Wendy Carlisle's Background Briefing report:

In February this year a new group emerged: the Galileo movement. Its scientific advisers are the who's who of the international climate sceptics movement. Its patron is the powerful Sydney radio personality Alan Jones. The Galileo movement is aiming to kill the carbon tax, and it's aiming to do this through attacking the science of climate change.

This is a fabulously un-self-aware group of climate change denialists who liken their cause to that of Galileo, and who purport to offer the Real Truth of the Earth's climate. They are the living epitome of the Galileo gambit, which itself is much older and is described by RationalWiki as follows:

They made fun of Galileo, and he was right.
They make fun of me, therefore I am right.

I feel the following diagram adequately summarises the situation:

This is all very Australia-centric, of course, and wholly political, though they claim otherwise. The stated purpose of the Galileo Movement is merely to stop Australia's carbon tax - an entirely political goal - not to actually redress the horrific corruption of science they claim to be occurring. The "corruption of science" seems more like an excuse for their own political predicament than an actual problem that must be solved. If such systemic corruption of the scientific process was real, after all, it would be far worse a problem than any mere tax¹. However, the movement's scientific literacy is clearly razor-thin, with adorable statements like this:

We care about freedom, security, the environment, humanity and our future.

The Galileo Movement's co-founders are retirees Case Smit and John Smeed. Their business backgrounds are in science and engineering - science's real-world application. Their experience is in environmental protection and ensuring air quality.

At first they simply accepted politicians' claims of global warming blamed on human production of carbon dioxide (CO₂). When things didn't add up, they each separately investigated. Stunned, they discovered what many people are now discovering: climate claims by some scientists and politicians contradict observed facts.

Here's another theory: Case Smit and John Smeed have never been involved in actual climate-related research at all, but through some intrepid Googling discovered that People On The Internet were having arguments. A stunning revelation indeed. Not having any particular notion of what real science is actually supposed to look like, they simply believed those people who appeared to be more outraged. Just as in Galileo's time.

1. Denialists rarely realise the scale of the allegations they so casually make; if they did, they would have to confront their implausibility.

(Click on the image for a slightly larger version.)