Category: Evening Report

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Meg Elkins, Associate Professor in Economics, RMIT University

When the Reserve Bank of Australia (RBA) board voted unanimously to lift the cash rate to 3.85% on Tuesday, the decision was driven by one overriding concern. It wants to stop the rising cost of living from becoming entrenched.

For some, like self-funded retirees, the rate rise was good news. Higher interest means their savings and term deposits will earn more. But for many others, including first home buyers who might have stretched themselves just to get a foot into the housing market, it was a very bad day.

RBA Governor Michele Bullock acknowledged that, saying:

I know this is not the news that Australians with mortgages want to hear, but it is the right thing for the economy.

She warned the alternative – letting inflation keep rising – would be even harder for more Australians.

So what’s the psychology behind the RBA raising rates now and leaving the door open to further hikes if needed? And what does the central bank hope Australians will do in response?

The price squeeze you’re feeling

There’s a striking gap between how the RBA describes the economy and how most Australians experience it.

On paper, things look healthy: unemployment is low, wages are growing.

But as Bullock acknowledged on Tuesday, the daily reality has felt very different.

The price level has gone up 20% to 25% over the last few years, and people see that every time they walk into a supermarket, or they go to the doctor, or whatever – that’s I think what’s hurting people.

That relentless price squeeze is not something you forget, even when the rate of increase starts to slow.

What’s driving inflation up?

The headline consumer price index (CPI) hit 3.8% in the year to December, well above the RBA’s target band of 2–3%. The “trimmed mean” – the underlying measure the RBA watches most closely – rose to 3.3%. Both are too high and moving in the wrong direction.

Bullock singled out three factors contributing to inflation. Each behaves differently and requires a different response.

Housing was the single largest contributor to inflation in December, up 5.5% over the year. That includes rents, which rose 3.9% (or 4.2% stripping out government rent assistance), as well as insurance, utilities, and new construction costs, which rose 3% as builders passed through higher labour and material costs.

There is an irony here. Rising interest rates are intended to cool demand, but they slow housing construction. Limited supply of housing is what’s pushing rents up in the first place.

“Durable goods” are the things we buy to last, such as cars, refrigerators, washing machines, televisions and furniture. Demand for many of those has been higher in the past year.

“Market services” are items such as restaurant meals, taxis, haircuts, gym memberships, medical appointments and holiday travel.

The RBA watches these carefully, because these are services priced by supply and demand in the domestic market. Those prices tend to be “sticky”: once they start rising, they don’t come back down easily.

Wages are also a big part of market services inflation. If the people providing those services are earning more, the cost goes up.

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Read more:
RBA raises interest rates as inflation pressures remain high

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How rate cuts made shoppers relax

This is where the behavioural psychology gets interesting.

The RBA cut interest rates three times in 2025. Each cut sent a signal, whether intentionally or not: it’s OK to spend a bit more.

And spend we did. CommBank data shows Australians spent A$23.8 billion over the two-week Black Friday period, up 4.6% on the year before.

It’s a cautionary tale about “rational expectations”. Each rate cut potentially fuelled the belief that more would follow.

If people feel like they can afford to spend, then they spend. Businesses, sensing demand, may raise their prices to match. That’s exactly the self-fulfilling dynamic central banks worry about.

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Read more:
Here’s what Black Friday sales shopping does to your brain

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The 3 ways the RBA hopes we’ll react

When prices go up, as they have been, workers ask for bigger wage rises to keep up. To pay higher wages, businesses lift prices to protect their profit margins. Together, that can create a “wage-price spiral” that becomes very hard to break.

The RBA will be hoping Australians respond to this rate rise in three ways:

• spending less

• saving more

• not asking for big wage rises (although they’d never phrase it that way).

RBA Governor Michele Bullock described raising interest rates as “a very blunt instrument” to bring inflation down, and noted setting rates is “not a science. It’s a bit of an art, really […] We’ve just got to respond as best we can.”

The RBA can’t undo the price rises that have already happened. It can only try to slow down further increases.

Meg Elkins does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. What the RBA wants Australians to do next to fight inflation – or risk more rate hikes – https://theconversation.com/what-the-rba-wants-australians-to-do-next-to-fight-inflation-or-risk-more-rate-hikes-274984

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/what-the-rba-wants-australians-to-do-next-to-fight-inflation-or-risk-more-rate-hikes-274984/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Wellett Potter, Senior Lecturer in Law, University of New England

Would you create an interactive “digital twin” of yourself that can communicate with loved ones after your death?

Generative artificial intelligence (AI) has made it possible to seemingly resurrect the dead. So-called griefbots or deathbots – an AI-generated voice, video avatar or text-based chatbot trained on the data of a deceased person – proliferate in the booming digital afterlife industry, also known as grief tech.

Deathbots are usually created by the bereaved, often as part of the grieving process. But there are also services that allow you to create a digital twin of yourself while you’re still alive. So why not create one for when you’re gone?

As with any application of new technology, the idea of such digital immortality raises many legal questions – and most of them don’t have a clear answer.

Your AI afterlife

To create an AI digital twin of yourself, you can sign up for a service that provides this feature, and answer a series of questions to provide data about who you are. You also record stories, memories and thoughts in your own voice. You might also upload your visual likeness in the form of images or video.

The AI software then creates a digital replica based on that training data. After you die and the company is notified of your death, your loved ones can interact with your digital twin.

But in doing this, you’re also delegating agency to a company to create a digital AI simulation of yourself after death.

From the get go, this is different to using AI to “resurrect” a dead person who can’t consent to this. Instead, a living person is essentially licensing data about themselves to an AI afterlife company before they’ve died. They’re engaging in a deliberate, contractual creation of AI-generated data for posthumous use.

However, there are many unanswered questions. What about copyright? What about your privacy?. What happens if the technology becomes outdated or the business closes? Does the data get sold on? Does the digital twin also “die”, and what effect does this have for a second time on the bereaved?

What does the law say?

Currently, Australian law doesn’t protect a person’s identity, voice, presence, values or personality as such. In contrast to the United States, Australians don’t have a general publicity or personality right. This means, for an Australian citizen, there’s currently no legal right for you to own or control your identity – the use of your voice, image or likeness.

In short, the law doesn’t recognise a proprietary right in most of the unique things that make you “you”.

Under copyright law, the concept of your presence or self is abstract, much like an idea is. Copyright doesn’t offer protection for “your presence” or “the self” as such. That’s because there has to be material form in specific categories of works for copyright to exist: these are tangible things, such as books or photos.

However, typed responses or the voice recordings submitted to the AI for training are material. This means the data used to train the AI to create your digital twin would likely be protectable. But fully autonomous AI generated output is unlikely to have any copyright attached to it. Under current Australian law, it would likely be considered authorless because it didn’t originate from the “independent intellectual effort” of a human, but from a machine.

Moral rights in copyright protect a creator’s reputation against false attribution and against derogatory treatment of their work. However, they wouldn’t apply to a digital twin. This is because moral rights attach to actual works created by a human author, not any AI-generated output.

So where does that leave your digital twin? Although it’s unlikely copyright applies to AI-generated output, in their terms and conditions companies may assert ownership of the AI-generated data, users may be granted rights in outputs, or the company may reserve extensive reuse rights. It’s something to look out for.

There are ethical risks, too

Using AI to make digital copies of people – living or dead – also raises ethical risks. For example, even though the training data for your digital twin might be locked upon your death, others will be accessing it in the future by interacting with it. What happens if the technology misrepresents the deceased person’s morals and ethics?

As AI is usually probabilistic and based on algorithms, there may be risk of creep or distortion, where the responses drift over time. The deathbot could lose its resemblance to the original person. It’s not clear what recourse the bereaved may have if this happens.

AI-enabled deathbots and digital twins can help people grieve, but the effects so far are largely anecdotal – more study is needed. At the same time, there’s potential for bereaved relatives to form a dependence on the AI version of their loved one, rather than processing their grief in a healthier way. If the outputs of AI-powered grief tech cause distress, how can this be managed, and who will be held responsible?

The current state of the law clearly shows more regulation is needed in this burgeoning grief tech industry. Even if you consent to the use of your data for an AI digital twin after you die, it’s difficult to anticipate new technologies changing how your data is used in the future.

For now, it’s important to always read the terms and conditions if you decide to create a digital afterlife for yourself. After all, you are bound by the contract you sign.

Wellett Potter is a member of the Copyright Society of Australia and the Asia-Pacific Copyright Association.

– ref. An ‘AI afterlife’ is now a real option – but what becomes of your legal status? – https://theconversation.com/an-ai-afterlife-is-now-a-real-option-but-what-becomes-of-your-legal-status-274021

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/an-ai-afterlife-is-now-a-real-option-but-what-becomes-of-your-legal-status-274021/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Adrian Beaumont, Election Analyst (Psephologist) at The Conversation; and Honorary Associate, School of Mathematics and Statistics, The University of Melbourne

The South Australian state election will be held on March 21. Preferential voting will be used to elect members for all 47 single-member lower house seats. This is the same system as used for federal House of Representatives elections.

Some Australian conservatives are advocating Australia return to first past the post (FPTP), but a conservative government introduced preferential voting in 1918 to stop vote splitting between two conservative parties. Right-wing preferences helped the Coalition maintain its grip on power from 1949 to 1972. Preferential voting is far superior to FPTP.

After Labor’s landslide at the May 2025 federal election, some right-wingers have complained that preferential voting gave Labor too many seats. They want Australia to revert to FPTP, where there are no preferences. In FPTP, the candidate with the most votes wins the seat.

National primary votes at the election were 34.6% Labor, 31.8% Coalition, 12.2% Greens, 6.4% One Nation and 15.0% for all Others. After preferences, Labor defeated the Coalition by 55.2–44.8 and won 94 of the 150 House of Representatives seats (63% of seats). In both two-party and seat share, this was Labor’s biggest win since 1943.

While Labor’s margin expanded after preferences, they won the national primary vote by 2.8%. Analyst Kevin Bonham said that on primary votes, Labor would have won 86 seats to 57 for the Coalition (actual 94 to 43). Labor’s primary votes were much more efficiently distributed than the Coalition’s.

Labor won a disproportionate seat share at the election, but this occurs with single-member systems, particularly with a blowout result. Those complaining about Labor’s big majority should advocate switching to proportional representation, not FPTP.

The United Kingdom 2024 election was held using FPTP. Labour won 411 of the 650 seats (63% of seats) on 33.7% of the national vote. This occurred primarily because Labour’s vote share was ten points ahead of the second placed Conservatives.

A brief history of preferential voting in Australia

Prior to 1918, federal elections used FPTP. In 1918, there was a byelection for Swan that was contested by the Nationalists (a predecessor of the Liberals), the Country Party (a predecessor of the Nationals) and Labor.

Labor won this byelection with 34.4%, to 31.4% for the Country Party and 29.6% for the Nationalists. With the combined vote for the two conservative options adding to 61.0%, it was clear a different system would have given the Country Party the win.

After this byelection, the Nationalist government introduced preferential voting, resulting in Labor losing the Corangamite byelection in 1918 to a Victorian Farmers candidate by 56.3–43.7, despite Labor winning the primary vote by 42.5–26.4 with 22.9% for the Nationalists.

Originally preferential voting was introduced to allow the two conservative parties (now Liberals and Nationals) to compete against each other without splitting the conservative vote and giving Labor wins it didn’t deserve. There are still “three-cornered” contests now where the Liberals, Nationals and Labor all contest the same seat.

This Wikipedia page gives national primary votes for Labor, the Coalition and all Others, the Labor and Coalition estimated two-party share and House seats won by Labor, Coalition and others at elections from 1910 to 2022.

Until the 1990s, the combined primary votes for the major parties was around 90% in most elections. This means that other than in three-cornered contests, preferences had limited impact. There were high Other votes in 1931, ‘34, ’40 and ’43, with the first three cases due to a Labor split (New South Wales Lang Labor).

In the first two of these cases, Labor was far behind on primary votes and made up some ground on preferences, but the Coalition still won easily. In 1940, Labor trailed by 3.7% on primary votes but won the two-party vote by 50.3–49.7. However, the Coalition formed government with the support of two independents until those independents sided with Labor in 1941.

In 1943, there was a split within the Coalition, and other preferences favoured the Coalition, reducing Labor’s primary vote lead of 26.9 points to 16.4 points after preferences.

In 1955, a Labor faction split from Labor and became the Democratic Labor Party (DLP), directing preferences to the Coalition. From 1955 until the DLP’s demise in 1974, it dominated the third party vote, and so overall preferences in this period assisted the Coalition.

The DLP helped the Coalition to have the longest period of one-party government from 1949 to 1972. Labor was estimated to have won the two-party vote in 1954, 1961 and 1969, but the Coalition won a majority of House seats.

Since 1987, preferences have favoured Labor, allowing it to overturn primary vote deficits to win the two-party vote in 1987, 2010 and 2022. First the Democrats and then the Greens assisted Labor after preferences. One Nation’s first rise at the 1998 election didn’t stop overall preferences from favouring Labor.

The only time Labor formed government while losing the two-party vote occurred in 1990, when they won a majority of seats despite losing by 50.1–49.9. Labor lost the election in 1998, even though it won the two-party vote by 51.0–49.0.

Some recent polls have One Nation surging into second place behind Labor, ahead of the Coalition. On current polling, there are more right-wing sources of preferences than left-wing sources, so overall preference flows could favour the right at the next federal election, whether it’s One Nation or the Coalition that benefits most.

In early elections, some seats were often uncontested, meaning only one candidate nominated for that seat. No votes were counted in such seats, so national primary votes will be distorted by the exclusion of these seats.

Why preferential voting is superior to FPTP

At the 2025 election, Labor’s Ali France defeated Liberal leader Peter Dutton in his seat of Dickson by 56.0–44.0. But Dutton had more primary votes than France, winning 34.7% of the primary vote to 33.6% for France, with 12.2% for a teal independent, 7.6% for the Greens and 4.2% for One Nation.

FPTP gives a massive benefit to the side of politics (left or right) that has its vote more concentrated with one party or candidate. In the two 1918 byelections, the left vote was concentrated with Labor, and in Dickson 2025 the right vote was concentrated with Dutton. Preferential voting is far fairer by allowing all candidates’ votes to eventually count.

In FPTP, many voters need to choose between supporting the candidate they most prefer even if that candidate is uncompetitive, and voting for the candidate best placed to keep someone they dislike out. Votes for uncompetitive candidates are effectively wasted in FPTP.

Labor may have won Dickson under FPTP as some of the teal and Greens voters would probably have voted for Labor tactically to beat Dutton. But voters shouldn’t need to make these choices.

Parliaments require majorities to function. The party winning the most seats does not necessarily form government, for example Labour formed government after the 2017 New Zealand election even though the conservative National won the most seats.

In the UK, the Conservatives needed to form alliances with other parties after winning the most seats but not a majority at the 2010 and 2017 elections. Preferential voting is closer to parliamentary systems than FPTP.

Adrian Beaumont does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Why preferential voting is superior to first past the post – https://theconversation.com/why-preferential-voting-is-superior-to-first-past-the-post-264248

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/why-preferential-voting-is-superior-to-first-past-the-post-264248/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Nicola Macaulay, Senior Tutor and PhD Candidate, Centre for Defence and Security Studies, Te Kunenga ki Pūrehuroa – Massey University

Across the Pacific and the Southern Ocean, New Zealand has been trying to strike a careful balance in its defence and surveillance approach.

While strengthening its security partnerships and expanding military capabilities, the government has so far said it is only assessing joining Pillar II of the AUKUS security pact between Australia, the United States and the United Kingdom.

Pillar I of AUKUS involves Australia acquiring nuclear-powered submarines, while Pillar II focuses on cooperation in advanced military technologies, including cyber systems, artificial intelligence, autonomous platforms, undersea capabilities and space-based surveillance.

Yet key documents, including the Defence Capability Plan 2025 and a government procurement process for long-duration aerial surveillance, suggest many of the practical steps Pillar II would involve are already underway.

These far-reaching strategic decisions are being made largely out of public view. And they raise an important question: is New Zealand effectively aligning itself with AUKUS in all but name?

From patrols to permanent surveillance

The Defence Capability Plan is the government’s long-term blueprint for upgrading New Zealand’s military. It proposes a NZ$100–300 million investment in long-range, uncrewed, remotely-piloted aircraft to provide intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance across vast ocean areas.

As part of a broader $14 billion defence overhaul, a further $300–600 million is projected for space-based capabilities. This is aimed at integrating New Zealand within shared satellite networks and increasing operational cooperation with security allies.

In parallel, the Persistent Surveillance (Air) Project tender (which recently closed for submissions) invites industry and academia to help design a system for long-duration surveillance across the southwest Pacific and Southern Ocean, involving aircraft, spacecraft and data-management software.

Taken together, these initiatives signal a shift from periodic surveillance patrols to continuous, networked monitoring. This aligns closely with the concept of “multi-domain maritime awareness” under AUKUS Pillar II.

Mindful of public concern about joining AUKUS and any association with nuclear proliferation or deployment of autonomous weapons systems, successive NZ governments have approached the issue cautiously.

The current government appears to be maintaining this careful line. But the proposed New Zealand Defence Force investments and procurement plans suggest a more substantive shift.

The long-range drones, satellite surveillance, data integration and counter-drone technologies outlined in the Defence Capability Plan closely mirror AUKUS Pillar II priorities.

New Zealand may be avoiding formal alignment for now. But defence officials have already been holding talks with the US, UK and Australia about advanced military technologies and surveillance systems.

The risk of being locked in

These policy shifts undoubtedly have benefits for a small country like New Zealand. High-quality surveillance capabilities boost its strategic value to defence partners and give Wellington a stronger voice in maritime monitoring across the Pacific.

But there are also risks. Research suggests integrating surveillance systems with allied networks can create lasting technical and political dependencies.

In turn, this could narrow New Zealand’s capacity to make independent decisions in the Pacific region, or calibrate its engagement with other regional stakeholders, including China and Pacific Island governments.

Arrangements such as the Indo-Pacific Partnership for Maritime Domain Awareness – involving Australia, India, Japan and the US, known as the “Quad” – allow countries to merge surveillance data and build a “common operating picture” of activity across the region.

The same is true of the Pacific Fusion Centre’s information-sharing network, PacNet #28. The catch is that these surveillance arrangements tend to lock countries in, with one host controlling how data is gathered and filtered.

Embedding NZ in surveillance networks

New Zealanders are broadly supportive of contributing to regional security. But
polling suggests they are uneasy about being drawn into distant conflicts or military spending that mainly serve the priorities of larger powers.

Autonomous weapons, AI-assisted targeting and militarised space systems are particularly contentious, raising legal and ethical questions about human control.

Defence officials frequently argue that drones and space-enabled surveillance reduce risks to personnel and enhance humanitarian and disaster-response missions. While this may be true, there remains a need for clearer public discussion about how such technologies are deployed and where limits are being set.

For decades, the New Zealand Defence Force has been valued for its nimbleness and principled diplomacy. But the emerging surveillance approach being shaped through procurement decisions, tenders, space-launch licences and software standards is steadily embedding New Zealand within allied security networks.

The government has assured New Zealanders would be kept informed “at every step” about any future partnership with AUKUS.

Such transparency needs to extend to defence policy and strategy in general, before foreign-designed, militarised surveillance systems become the norm across the region.

Nicola Macaulay does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Is NZ defence and intelligence policy aligning with AUKUS in all but name? – https://theconversation.com/is-nz-defence-and-intelligence-policy-aligning-with-aukus-in-all-but-name-274609

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/is-nz-defence-and-intelligence-policy-aligning-with-aukus-in-all-but-name-274609/

By Koroi Hawkins, RNZ Pacific editor

A court ruling in favour of Fiji’s dismissed anti-corruption chief has “embarrassed” Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka, a New Zealand-based Fiji politics academic says.

University of Canterbury distinguished professor Steven Ratuva told RNZ Pacific Waves that while the Fiji High Court decision on Barbara Malimali offered “clarity” on the separation of powers, it added “to the weight of responsibilities” piling up under Rabuka’s leadership.

On Monday, the court ruled that Malimali’s dismissal was unlawful — a decision she said “vindicated” her. Rabuka immediately announced that he would be appealing the decision, but later told local reporters that he would “consider” resigning if the appeal failed.

“[Resignation] is an option,” he said.

Despite this, Rabuka’s Information Minister Lynda Tabuya told reporters on Tuesday that the prime minister had the full support of the cabinet.

“It was a resounding sentiment in cabinet that we would not accept his resignation,” she said in a post-cabinet press briefing on Tuesday, adding that Rabuka had “unanimous support . . .  to continue to lead this country and continue to lead us.”

Rabuka had not admitted to any wrongdoing and reports in the media “need to be corrected,” Tabuya said.

Fiji military commander Major-General Jone Kalouniwai also weighed in on the turn of events, telling local media that the army is maintaining “a [situational] awareness of what is happening” given that the country was heading into an election period.

“It’s important for us to understand what’s happening. Looking at it from a security perspective, things can cascade into a different situation,” he told The Fiji Times.

Dr Ratuva said all the issues Rabuka was having to deal with were “leading him to breaking point”.

“The fact that he has signalled his willingness to resign if the appeal doesn’t come through, is something which only [Rabuka] himself will have to decide,” he said.

“A lot of people have been asking for his resignation in the last few months for different reasons, particularly in relation to the way some of these complex challenges have been handled by the government.

“So it depends very much on what’s going to happen after the appeal, and the process might go on for some time . . .  even the election might come in between.”

Fiji is expected to head to the polls anytime between August 7 (earliest) this year and 6 February 2027 (latest).

Dr Ratuva said Fijian opposition parties will try to use some of these issues faced by Rabuka as part of campaigning.

“Anything can be leveraged as a means of manoeuvring your opposition, so certainly it is something which will arise during the election campaigns,” he said.

He said other issues such as the cost of living, health, infrastructure, rising crime, drugs, would become campaign issues during the election.

The government under Rabuka, he said, would be on the defensive in terms of making sure that they would be re-elected.

“But then that depends very much on how they are able to handle these issues, and of course, the choice of the voters ultimately,” Dr Ratuva said.

“The number of scandals and the number of crisis, which have defined the rule of this particular coalition has diverted attention away from the real issues on the ground, so they have to live with it and the consequences are going to be felt in the next election.”

This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/high-court-defeat-piles-pressure-on-embarrassed-fiji-pm-rabukas-leadership-says-academic/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Jeff Scheible, Senior Lecturer in Film Studies, King’s College London

Table tennis and film have a surprisingly entangled history. Both depended on the invention of celluloid – which not only became the substrate of film, but is also used to make ping pong balls.

Following a brief ping pong craze in 1902, the game largely disappeared and was widely assumed to have been a passing fad. More than 20 years later, however, the British socialite, communist spy and filmmaker Ivor Montagu went to great lengths to establish the game as a sport – a story I explore in my current book project on ping pong and the moving image.

He founded the International Table Tennis Federation (ITTF) and codified the rules of the game in both a book and a corresponding short film, Table Tennis Today (1929).

Montagu presided over the ITTF for several decades. In 1925, the same year he founded the ITTF, Montagu also co-founded the London Film Society. The society helped introduce western audiences to experimental and art films that are now considered classics.

The game of table tennis has subsequently appeared at a number of moments when filmmakers and artists were experimenting with new technologies. An early example appears in one of the first works of “visual music”: Rhythm in Light (1934) by Mary Ellen Bute.

Meanwhile, an early work of expanded cinema, Ping Pong (1968) by the artist Valie Export, invited audiences to pick up a paddle and ball and attempt to strike a physical ball against the representation of one moving on the cinema screen. Atari’s adaptation of the game into the interactive Pong (1972) is often considered the first video game.

Perhaps the most familiar cinematic example of all, however, is the digital simulation of a photorealistic ping pong ball – made possible by a then-new regime of computer-generated imagery. It helped Tom Hanks appear to be a ping pong whiz in the Academy-Award-winning Forrest Gump (1994).

There are a number of other fascinating moments in which the game surfaces meaningfully: in Powell and Pressburger’s A Matter of Life and Death (1946), Jacques Tati’s M Hulot’s Holiday (1953), Michael Haneke’s 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance (1994), and Agnes Varda and JR’s Faces Places (2017).

And every day for more than two years, from 2020 to 2022, one of the world’s most beloved filmmakers, David Lynch, uploaded YouTube videos in which he pulled a numbered ping pong ball from a jar and declared it “today’s number”. It was a fittingly Dada-esque gesture that stands among the last mysterious works he shared with the world.

Enter Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme. The title sequence alone discovers a new way of visualising the game’s iconography, as we see a sperm fertilise an egg, which then transforms into a ping pong ball (the digital effects first witnessed in Gump are now fully integrated into popular cinema).

Why Marty Supreme is different

Marty Supreme is very loosely based on the real-life player Marty Reisman (here Marty Mauser, played by Timothée Chalamet). What sets it apart from earlier cinematic appearances of table tennis is that it centres the game as a sport.

When table tennis has previously appeared in film, it is usually to help show off new special effects or as a brief plot device. Or it frequently appears in the background, helping to furnish the mise-en-scene of an office, basement, or bar. In these instances, we might not notice the game or its materials at all. When it does have a narrative function, it usually occupies a single scene, frequently serving to stage or resolve fraught interpersonal relations between the characters who are playing.

In Marty Supreme, however, table tennis seems neither tethered to special effects nor, certainly, to the game’s “background” status. Chalamet trained extensively over the seven years he spent preparing for the role, even taking his own table to the desert while filming Dune (2021). And despite the film’s sometimes compelling eccentricities, Marty Supreme in many senses follows the generic blueprint of a sports film.

Safdie has made a sports film, coincidentally or not, like his frequent collaborator and brother Benny Safdie, whose wrestling film The Smashing Machine was also released this past year. Marty Supreme, though, revolves around an athlete who plays a game that generally has been assumed to not have enough gravitas to command a place in the genre or to hold an audience’s interest.

The absence of sports films about ping pong certainly speaks to ways in which it is perceived as something not worth taking too seriously, for reasons that are surely at least partially linked to the same reasons for which the game is often celebrated. It is perceived to be what I refer to as an “equalising” sport, open to people and bodies of all backgrounds and types.

As actor Susan Sarandon, who founded her own chain of ping pong bars, puts it: “Ping pong cuts across all body types and gender – everything, really – because little girls can beat big muscley guys. You don’t get hurt; it is not expensive; it is really good for your mind. It is one of the few sports that you can play until you die.”

This perception of the game has perhaps also led it to appear in more comedic contexts, with athletes embodied by actors we might more readily laugh at, as source material for visual and sonic gags, from a slapstick scene in You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man (1939) to the widely panned Balls of Fury (2007).

The tension between the game’s perceived triviality and Mauser’s extreme dedication lends Marty Supreme a vast blank canvas – or ping pong table – onto which its oscillations can be painted, or played… and in turn felt by the audience, with its high highs and low lows.

While it’s great that a talented director has poured his heart into a cinematic treatment of Reisman for the screen, I’m holding out hope for an Ivor Montagu film, which could be even more beholden to its real-life character – and even more wild.

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Jeff Scheible does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. A brief history of table tennis in film – from Forrest Gump to Marty Supreme – https://theconversation.com/a-brief-history-of-table-tennis-in-film-from-forrest-gump-to-marty-supreme-274445

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/a-brief-history-of-table-tennis-in-film-from-forrest-gump-to-marty-supreme-274445/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By David McMillan, Professor in Finance, University of Stirling

In late January, the gold price reached an all-time peak of around US$5,500 (£4,025). January 30 saw one of the largest one-day falls in prices, which sank by nearly 10% after hitting a record high only the day before.

This was a dramatic about-turn, from a bullish gold market that rose by more than 300% in the last decade, over 150% in the last five years and (perhaps more pertinently) by 75% since US president Donald Trump’s “liberation day” tariffs announcement. To make sense of it, we need to understand some of the factors that led to the rise.

The reasons broadly break down into two categories. The first concerns market uncertainty and gold in its “safe haven” role. As a financial asset, gold offers no income, unlike shares (which might provide dividends) or bonds (which offer coupon payments). So during good times, gold is eschewed for the former and during periods of high interest rates for the latter.

However, during periods of heightened risk and uncertainty, the tangibility of gold gives it value. This was seen during the financial (and subsequent sovereign debt) crisis and at the beginning of the COVID period. Here both share prices and interest rates were low (interest rates historically so) and gold became the favoured asset because it offered the chance of greater returns relative to risk.

These crisis periods can often be geopolitical in nature, and that is the case now with the war in Ukraine following the Russian invasion, as well as ongoing tensions in the Middle East.

But at the moment, what is providing a further boost to the gold price is the uncertainty created by Trump’s tariffs. This is not only about international trade and growth but also its implications for the global financial system. The US dollar is used as a vehicle currency and means of payment for international trade and the currency in which commodities are priced.

The use of tariffs in this way undermines confidence in the dollar, especially where tariffs are threatened as a punishment – as Trump recently did against European countries for opposing his desire to annex Greenland.

And further buoyed by the weak US dollar, which has fallen by 10% in the last year, there has been significant gold-buying, including by central banks as part of their reserves.

As an important aside, while a lot has been said about central banks replacing the US dollar as a reserve currency, overseas holdings of treasuries (US government bonds) are at a record high, countering that view.

The level of debt that countries are building up shows no sign of abating. For example, Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which outlines tax cuts and increases to border security and defence spending among many other budget measures, is expected to add several trillion dollars to US debt.

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Read more:
The record gold price reflects a deeper problem than recent global instability

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The second reason for the long-term increase in the gold price is its greater use in investor portfolios for speculative purposes. The “safe-haven” role of gold implies a negative correlation between stocks and gold. That is to say, when one rises the other falls – and vice versa.

However, with the S&P500 (the index tracking the top 500 companies listed in the US) also reaching record highs, stocks and gold have instead been moving in the same direction. This indicates that investors are buying both asset types.

A major component in the growth of gold as an investment asset (as opposed to only a safe haven) is the rise of gold ETFs (exchange-traded funds) that make it easier for non-professional investors to purchase gold.

So why the fall?

Rather than a single event, there has been an accumulation of small changes, combined with the usual sways in investor sentiment. Geopolitical risk remains high, both in Ukraine and the Middle East (while the situation in Israel and Gaza is calmer, that is not the case with Iran). But there are some positive signs.

Trump’s on-off use of tariffs as a means of political negotiation (this time regarding Greenland) also contributed to a rise and fall in the gold price. And the nomination of Kevin Warsh as the new governor of the US Federal Reserve is expected to lessen economic risk.

While Warsh generally supports Trump’s preference for lower interest rates now (although investors are expressing concerns that this could fuel inflation), Warsh also has an equal desire to reduce the size of the Fed’s balance sheet. So it would be unlikely to be an unreserved loosening of monetary policy.

But there is also the investor side. Profit is only realised when the asset is sold. Part of what we have seen is investors selling gold in a high (arguably over-priced) market to make a profit. The price fall associated with these trades then arguably led to further selling.

This included stop-loss trading (when assets are automatically sold when they dip below a certain price) and sales by the likes of hedge funds and other institutional traders. These investors need to unwind positions to prevent major losses.

After the huge fall on January 30, gold prices surged back a couple of days later in the biggest one-day rise since 2008.

There are always corrections, and in fact current movements are likely to be over-corrections. But it’s safe to assume that after this, the market will stabilise and most likely resume an upward trajectory albeit at a slower pace than immediately before the fall.

David McMillan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. The rise and fall (and rise again) of gold prices – what’s going on? – https://theconversation.com/the-rise-and-fall-and-rise-again-of-gold-prices-whats-going-on-275017

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/the-rise-and-fall-and-rise-again-of-gold-prices-whats-going-on-275017/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Martin Farr, Senior Lecturer in Contemporary British History, Newcastle University

No accident waiting to happen can ever have delivered on its promise so spectacularly as Lord Mandelson, with the continuous revelations of his ties to convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein. The decision by the UK prime minister, Keir Starmer, to appoint Mandelson as ambassador in Washington DC always appeared a high-risk, high-reward strategy. But no reward could ever have repaid such risk.

There is a grim fascination in seeing a prominent public figure’s reputation incinerated in real time. Mandelson’s entreating emails to a convicted abuser and trafficker of minors were still quite recently sufficient of an embarrassment before he was then photographed urinating in public.

The new normal is to appear on front pages in his underpants. Next will come questions about the meaning of emails that appear to show him betraying the most cardinal principles of public office, for monetary gain, from a criminal.

Mandelson had clearly started 2026 with the intention of rehabilitating himself and re-entering public life: a Sunday morning BBC interview, columns in the Spectator, an interview in the Times. Journalists’ requests for comment were replied to. No longer.

What was striking across these appearances – given Mandelson’s talents – was his maladroitness. Not to have apologised to the victims of trafficking when pressed in that initial high-profile interview, only to realise his error and concede the following day did not bear the hallmark of a master of public relations.

The rehabilitation plan, moreover, evidently did not include a strategy for the documents that were to be released as part of another huge cache of material relating to Epstein.

There is now the suggestion that Mandelson may have forwarded government-sensitive information to a foreign banker while he was, effectively, the deputy prime minister and that he encouraged that banker to intimidate his colleague, the chancellor of the exchequer, Alistair Darling. The banker allegedly did “mildly threaten” Darling. Darling knew someone was leaking, but, having died in 2023, never knew who. Now we have an idea.

To separate the procedural from the human, for now, the issue that leaves the current government most exposed is Starmer’s personal choice of Mandelson as US ambassador. One of two things must have happened: a catastrophic failure in vetting and in due diligence, or the government ignoring red lights from vetting and due diligence.

This is also an origin story scandal for the Labour party, in which Mandelson has deep roots. It has always lived in fear of its leaders succumbing to the charms of plutocrats. It happened in 1931, in the “great betrayal”, when Labour leader Ramsey McDonald formed a government with the Tories and Liberals to resolve a financial crisis – one reason the saintly Clement Attlee nationalised the Bank of England in 1946. Attlee’s deputy leader was Herbert Morrison, Mandelson’s grandfather.

This matters more now because Mandelson’s influence in the party meant that he has acted as a mentor to so many – not least the prime minister’s chief of staff, Morgan McSweeney, the man arguably more responsible for this government than Starmer himself, and the person said to have pushed for Mandelson to be given the ambassadorship. The fissures of the Blairites and the soft left are reopening.

Removing Mandelson

There will be those who take pleasure from so public a defenestration of so polarising a figure. Two such will be the Reform and Green party candidates in the Gorton and Denton byelection.

A room of scriptwriters could not have devised a situation calculated to land more effectively for a canvasser from an insurgent party to stand on a doorstep and asks a voter how satisfied they are with the way the country’s run, and in the qualities of their leaders.

Even before the revelations about his friendship with a billionaire paedophile, Mandelson was the personification of the increasingly maligned and resented globalist, lanyard-wearing, chauffeured classes. The online conspiracist hares that have already been sent running are unnecessary: this scandal is in no need of embellishment.

Some always knew. Mandelson masterminded Labour’s electoral approach for a decade, but when he succeeded Neil Kinnock as leader in 1992, John Smith would have nothing to do with him. Smith died suddenly, and Tony Blair’s sudden ascent was facilitated by Mandelson, to the undying enmity of Gordon Brown.

Brown appointed Mandelson his first secretary of state, but from a position of weakness. He is now making his fury known. The current prime minister appointed Mandelson his ambassador to the UK’s closest and most important ally, but from a position of weakness. Brown, at least, can vent his fury – he no longer has office to lose.

In the space of a few hours, Mandelson’s future shifted from the certainty of ignominy to the possibility of prison. We are already beyond historical parallel. For 60 years, John Profumo has been the yardstick for political scandal in the UK (and another where the exploitation of women was lost in a voyeuristic melee). We have a new one.

In other political cultures, Mandelson would by now have been airlifted to a safehouse outside Moscow or Riyadh, given sanctuary, never to be seen or heard of again. But the prime minister will be seeing and hearing of Mandelson for some time to come.

When it comes to making appointments – a prime minister’s elemental power – Starmer has frequently made the wrong choices, though innate caution and timidity, to the detriment of his government. It is the one exception to this cautious approach that may prove to be the most consequential of all.

Martin Farr does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. The fall of Peter Mandelson and the many questions the UK government must now answer – https://theconversation.com/the-fall-of-peter-mandelson-and-the-many-questions-the-uk-government-must-now-answer-275011

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/the-fall-of-peter-mandelson-and-the-many-questions-the-uk-government-must-now-answer-275011/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Keith Rathbone, Senior Lecturer, Modern European History and Sports History, Macquarie University

Since the murder of 11 Israeli hostages at the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics, security has been fundamental for games stakeholders.

The 2024 Paris games set new benchmarks for security at a mega-event, and now the presence of American security officials in Milan Cortina threatens to darken this year’s Winter Olympics before they even start.

Security at the games

The scale of security at the games has magnified considerably since the 1970s.

For the 2024 Olympics, the French government mobilised an unprecedented 45,000 police officers from around the nation.

For the opening ceremony, these forces cordoned off six kilometres of the Seine River.

Advocates point to Paris as an example of security done correctly.

Milipol Paris – one of the world’s largest annual conferences on policing and security – pointed to lower crime across the country during the games and a complete absence of any of the feared large security events. It stated:

The operation demonstrated the effectiveness of advanced planning, inter-agency cooperation and strong logistical coordination. Authorities and observers are now reflecting on which elements of the Paris 2024 model might be applied to future large-scale events.

However, critics complained the security measures infringed on civil liberties.

Controversy as ICE heads to Italy

Ahead of the Milan Cortina games, which run from February 4-23, Italian officials promised they were “ready to meet the challenge of security”.

A newly established cybersecurity headquarters will include officials from around the globe, who will sift through intelligence reports and react to issues in real time.

As well as this, security will feature:

• 6,000 officers to protect the two major locations – Milan and Cortina d’Ampezzo
• a no-fly zone around key sites
• a constant restricted access cordon around some sites (as seen in Paris).

Some of the security officers working in the cybersecurity headquarters will come from the United States.

Traditionally the US diplomatic security service provides protection for US athletes and officials attending mega-events overseas. It has been involved in the games since 1976.

Late last month, however, news broke that some of the officers will be from “a unit of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE)”.

US and Italian officials were quick to differentiate between Homeland Security Investigations (HSI), which handles cross-border crime, and Enforcement and Removal Operations, the department responsible for the brutal crackdown on immigrant communities across the US.

The HSI has helped protect athletes at previous events and will be stationed at the US Consulate in Milan to provide support to the broader US security team at the games.

But the organisation’s reputation precedes them, and Italians are wary.

In Milan, demonstrators expressed outrage. Left-wing Mayor Giuseppe Sala called ICE a “a militia that kills” while protests broke out in the host cities.

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Read more:
Shooting of Alex Pretti in Minneapolis has put America’s gun lobby at odds with the White House

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US-European relations are stretched

The presence of ICE has also illuminated fractures within Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni’s governing coalition.

Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani defended the inclusion of the US officers, saying “it’s not like the SS are coming”, referring to the Nazis paramilitary force in Germany.

However, local officials, including those from Meloni’s centre-right coalition, expressed concerns.

The tension inside Meloni’s government reflects broader concerns on the continent about US-European relations.

US Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio will attend the opening ceremony in Milan, despite some Europeans viewing Vance as the mouthpiece for US President Donald Trump’s imperial agenda.

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Read more:
The Making of an Autocrat: podcast out now

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Trump’s desire to take over Greenland has undermined American and European support for trans-Atlantic amity and the NATO alliance.

Just ahead of the Olympics, Danish veterans marched outside the US Embassy after Trump disparaged NATO’s contribution to US-led operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. These protests added to Danes’ fears about Trump’s Greenland ambition.

Tensions in Denmark remain high as the Americans and the Danes gear up to play ice hockey in the opening round robin of the men’s competition.

Elsewhere, politicians in the US on both sides have raised concerns that Trump’s bombastic rhetoric will make it harder for American athletes to compete and win.

A double standard?

Critics argue there is an American exception when it comes to global politics interfering in international sport.

Under Trump, the US has attacked Iran and Venezuela, called on Canada to become its 51st state, threatened to occupy Greenland and engaged in cross-border operations in Mexico.

Despite this, US competitors can still wear their nation’s colours at the Olympics.

Compare this to Belarussian and Russian athletes, who are only eligible to compete as Individual Neutral Athletes after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and only under the condition they have not been publicly supportive of the invasion. An International Olympic Committee (IOC) body assesses each competitor’s eligibility.

Israeli athletes have also been under the spotlight amid geopolitical tensions in the region.

Following the Israeli invasion of Gaza in October 2023, a panel of independent experts at the United Nations urged soccer’s governing body FIFA to ban Israeli athletes, stating:

sporting bodies must not turn a blind eye to grave human rights violations.

But FIFA, and the IOC, have recently defended Israeli athletes’ right to participate in international sport in the face of boycotts and protests.

Competitors from Israel can represent their country at the Winter Olympics.

The political developments which have caused ructions worldwide ironically come after the IOC’s 2021 decision to update the Olympic motto to supposedly recognise the “unifying power of sport and the importance of solidarity”.

The change was a simple one, adding the word “together” after the original three-word motto: “faster, higher, stronger”.

It remains to be seen whether the Milan Cortina games live up to every aspect of the “faster, higher, stronger – together” motto, not just the first three words.

Keith Rathbone does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Winter Olympic security tightens as US-European tensions grow – https://theconversation.com/winter-olympic-security-tightens-as-us-european-tensions-grow-274530

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/winter-olympic-security-tightens-as-us-european-tensions-grow-274530/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Emlyn Dodd, Senior Lecturer in Classical Studies, Institute of Classical Studies, School of Advanced Study, University of London; Macquarie University

How far back does the rich history of Italian olives and oil stretch? My new research, synthesising and reevaluating existing archaeological evidence, suggests olive trees have been exploited for more than 6,000 years. The first Italian olive oil was produced perhaps 4,000 years ago.

The olive was central to ancient life in Italy. Wild and domesticated olives provided edible fruit. By the mid-first millennium BCE into the Roman period, olive oil was used in cooking, medicine, ritual and hygiene.

Table olives are rich in calories, lipids, vitamins and minerals, and high in calcium. Olive wood is dense, and was used in crafting, construction and for fuel. The waste from pressing olives (pomace) was also a remarkably popular domestic and industrial fuel source in antiquity, burning at a higher temperature for longer and with less smoke than charcoal.

Uses of the olive tree and its fruit were diverse.

During the early Roman Empire (around the first century CE) it is possible Rome’s immediate hinterland produced 9.7 million litres of olive oil per year.

Today, Italy remains among the top olive producing regions in the Mediterranean.

A deep history of olive exploitation

Evidence from ancient pollen shows that olive trees were present in Italy during the Pleistocene, more than 11,000 years ago. These were likely wild olives.

In order to think about exploitation and cultivation, it is important to discern human interaction with the plant and its fruit.

Olive tree charcoal, suggestive of human exploitation, has been found in Mesolithic layers from the seventh and sixth millennia BCE (8,000 years ago) in Sicily and Apulia in the south of Italy.

In northern Italy, the Arene Candide cave in Liguria revealed olive charcoal along with quern stones and sickle blades, possibly used for rudimentary olive harvesting and processing. People at this time began to shape the landscape of wild olive trees by using wood for fuel, collecting wild fruit or pruning off branches for fodder.

An exponential increase in evidence occurs in the Neolithic (6000–3500 BCE), hinting at more intensive use of the olive tree.

But our earliest olive stones, which provide more convincing evidence of olive fruit consumption, are not found in an occupation context until the Middle Neolithic (around 5000–4000 BCE). Much of this early material comes from Calabria, Apulia and Sardinia, with only limited glimpses in central Italy and the Veneto.

Despite accumulating evidence, no conclusive signs yet exist for the Neolithic production of olive oil in Italy.

The earliest olive oil in Italy?

Organic residue analysis has detected plant oils, perhaps from olives, in an Early Bronze Age (2000 BCE) large clay storage jar (pithos) from Castelluccio, Sicily. But there remain challenges in our ability to discern between different types of oils using this technique, and preservation in the Mediterranean is rarely ideal.

More potential indicators for olive oil have been found in ceramic storage jars from Broglio di Trebisacce, Calabria, and Roca Vecchia, Apulia, in the mid-second millennium BCE.

The Bronze Age also saw olive cultivation expand into marginal lands where the wild olive did not grow, for example at Tufariello, Campania, around 1700 BCE. There was clearly significant interest in the exploitation of olives in Bronze Age Italy, which likely included the production of oil at least on a small scale.

Iron Age developments

Italian regions experienced different trajectories around 1000 BCE. Parts of southern Italy show declines in olive cultivation, perhaps linked to changing economic and cultural events. Sites on the Ionian and Adriatic coast maintain olive charcoal, stones, oil residues and even imprints of olive leaves on ceramics.

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Read more:
Remaking history: using Ancient Egyptian techniques, I made delicious olive oil at home – and you can too

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Possibly the earliest stone rotary olive millstone in the Mediterranean was discovered at Incoronata, Basilicata, dating to the seventh century BCE.

The invention of rotary mills signalled an important change in processing power and efficiency. Mills crushed olives, separating skin from flesh before they were pressed for oil. Although they are generally thought to originate in the Aegean, where examples from the sixth and fifth centuries BCE exist, the find from Incoronata might instead suggest a central Mediterranean origin.

Recent research demonstrates external cultures, like Phoenicians or Greeks, were not solely responsible for the introduction of olive cultivation or oil production. This follows similar conclusions reached for viticulture and winemaking in Italy.

Cultural exchange through trade and colonisation brought different knowledge, technology and ideas of production around oleiculture and oil production, creating forums for local innovation.

These forces energised already-intensifying cultivation. By around 600–500 BCE, Etruscan communities began to play a key role in the systematic establishment of groves and the use of olives in central Italy.

Roman consolidation and scaling up

The Roman period saw olive cultivation pushed well past its natural bioclimatic limits. Olive trees were grown at higher altitudes, latitudes and in more arid regions.

Production occurred across much of the Italian peninsula, even in subalpine regions and marginal lands.

Archaeological and ancient environmental material illustrate a substantial oil-producing habit and emerging market in Roman Republican and Imperial Italy – perhaps on a larger scale than previously thought.

Some oil production facilities may have had four or more presses. This illustrates exceptional processing scale, such as the elite villa of Vacone in central Italy.

A facility in Apulia, used from the first century BCE onwards, had an oil cellar with perhaps 47 enormous clay jars (dolia), potentially storing 25,000–35,000 litres.

Oil production also occurred at a smaller-scale in urban centres and isolated rural locations. The discovery of a production site at Case Nuove, Tuscany, provides a rare glimpse into modest scale olive processing using rudimentary technologies.

As analytical and scientific techniques improve, the ancient history of olive oil in Italy will continue to evolve, pushing our knowledge further back in time and adding new detail and nuance.

Emlyn Dodd does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Olives have been essential to life in Italy for at least 6,000 years – far longer than we thought – https://theconversation.com/olives-have-been-essential-to-life-in-italy-for-at-least-6-000-years-far-longer-than-we-thought-273461

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/olives-have-been-essential-to-life-in-italy-for-at-least-6-000-years-far-longer-than-we-thought-273461/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Susan Luckman, Professor of Culture and Creative Industries, Adelaide University

We have now passed the annual Australia Day peak of calls urging us to “buy Australian” – especially lamb. The iconic green-and-gold “Australian Made, Australian Grown” logo, launched by then-Prime Minister Bob Hawke in 1986, turns 40 this year.

We are also often encouraged to support local businesses in tough times. The recent devastating impacts of bushfires in Victoria highlights the importance of supporting local businesses in need.

But is buying local feasible or desirable for most Australians? Who buys Australian made – and why? These questions were at the heart of our latest research, which drew on a nationally representative survey of 924 Australian consumers.

We found a majority of Australians support buying local. But their motivations for doing so vary significantly – and not all are willing to pay more.

Looking beyond the farmers’ market

Most previous research has focused on local food. Much less is known about motivations for buying other kinds of local goods.

We asked people whether they sought to buy locally produced goods across a wide range of categories, including fruit and vegetables, meat, alcoholic drinks, clothing, furniture, decorative items, personal accessories and other household goods.

If the answer was yes, we asked why – and whether they were willing to pay more to do so.

Who buys Australian made and why?

We found the desire to “buy local” cannot be neatly categorised as progressive or conservative, nor is the desire to support local confined to any one demographic group.

We found most Australians had a strong desire to buy local. Overall, the top three reasons were:

1. “to support the local economy and jobs”
2. “better quality”
3. “I prefer to support small business”.

This was consistent across all product categories, with supporting the local economy and jobs by far the strongest motivation.

What matters to men and women

But there were some notable variations. For example, while responses by gender were fairly similar, men were far more likely than women to seek out Australian-made alcoholic beverages, which they saw as “better quality” and “safer and more trustworthy”.

In the same product category, women were far more interested in the “story” of such products, choosing the response “I like to know where and how it is produced” more frequently than men.

When it came to clothing and personal accessories, concern for labour conditions and environmental impacts emerged as stronger drivers for women.

Who’s willing to pay more?

Perhaps surprisingly, we found income level has little to do with whether people are willing to pay more for locally produced goods. This is where other values come into play.

We found those aged over 45 had the strongest preference for buying local, and this was primarily motivated by a desire to support the local economy and jobs. However, they were also the least willing to pay more. Notably, ethical or values-based considerations were less of a driver for this group.

In contrast, younger people were more likely to buy local for environmental reasons or for reasons related to labour conditions and workplace ethics. Despite being on lower incomes, younger people were generally willing to pay more for these considerations.

Additional differences became clear when we considered respondents’ political views – particularly their views on immigration.

Those aged over 45, who held the strongest desire to support local economy and jobs, also held the most negative views about immigration – saying they felt that immigration numbers were too high and should be tightened.

This was in contrast to the younger respondents who also sought to buy local for reasons extending beyond supporting the local economy. More motivated to buy local for environmental or ethical reasons, this cohort tended to have more positive views about immigration, feeling that immigration numbers were “about right” or could be higher.

Why this matters

The disruption of COVID made local production and buying more urgent and more common. This sped up a shift towards small-scale and local production that began before the pandemic.

Since the pandemic, Australian businesses have experienced further economic and environmental disruptions: natural disasters, the United States’ reintroduction of tariffs, and the ongoing cost of living crisis, to name a few.

However, our research suggests the same act of buying local holds different meanings across demographics and the political spectrum.

These findings are important to consider at the present moment, as anti-immigration sentiment becomes more visible.

Susan Luckman receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

Michelle Phillipov receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

– ref. New research shows Australians support buying local for different reasons – and not all will pay more – https://theconversation.com/new-research-shows-australians-support-buying-local-for-different-reasons-and-not-all-will-pay-more-274731

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/new-research-shows-australians-support-buying-local-for-different-reasons-and-not-all-will-pay-more-274731/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Emily McIntyre, PhD candidate in Ecology, The University of Melbourne

Think truffles and you’ll probably think of France. But Australia is actually a global hotspot for truffle-like fungi, boasting hundreds of different species. Like culinary truffles, these truffle-like fungi produce underground sporing bodies rather than send up mushrooms.

Living underground has its challenges. Fungi which form mushrooms above ground can easily disperse their spores (the fungal equivalent to a plant’s seed) on the wind. But truffle-like fungi can’t do this. Instead, they rely on native mammals to follow their pungent smells, dig up the underground sporing body, eat it and disperse their spores in their scat.

Many native mammals eat fungi when they are easily available, including common brushtail possums (Trichosurus vulpecula), swamp wallabies (Wallabia bicolor), bush rats (Rattus fuscipes), and greater bilbies (Macrotis lagotis), but they generally don’t rely on them for a large part of their diet in the same way as potoroos and bettongs do. Among these fungi fans, there’s one species which stands out.

Australia’s most specialised fungi-eater is the long-footed potoroo (Potorous longipes), which relies on these fungi for over 90% of its diet. It’s likely to be one of the most fungi-dependent mammals in the world. Their nocturnal work digging up and eating fungi supports forests in southeastern Australia by helping to maintain the fungi-tree symbiosis.

The long-footed potoroo has long been rare due to habitat loss and fox predation. It’s been endangered for decades. Once considered more widespread, their range is now restricted to two regions between Victoria and New South Wales, much of which burned during the 2019-2020 megafires.

But there’s a newer threat: climate change.

In our new research, we analyse a rare long-term collection of potoroo scats. We found that as conditions get hotter, these potoroos are eating a much smaller range of fungi. This has significant implications for potoroo diets, fungal dispersal, and the health of our forests.

What’s in that scat?

Many truffle-like fungi live in ectomycorrhizal symbiosis with native trees such as eucalypts. This means they trade nutrients between their threadlike hyphae and the tree’s root system, a remarkably ancient relationship which supports tree growth and health and provides their fungal partners with a source of energy.

To explore whether climate change has been affecting the truffle-like fungi consumed by the long-footed potoroo, we partnered with colleagues at the Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria, CSIRO and the Victorian Department of Energy, Environment and Climate Action. We then turned to an extensive and extremely rare collection of potoroo scats.

These scats have been painstakingly collected over 23 years (1993-2016) by department staff. Collections of scats are enormously valuable to researchers, as they give us clear evidence of what an animal has been eating – and if their diets have changed over time.

We used DNA analysis to track which species of truffle-like fungi these potoroos had eaten over time. This process involved sequencing fungal DNA present in potoroo scats, and matching these DNA sequences to a fungal species database. This left us with a list of fungal species that were present in each potoroo scat.

Overall, we found potoroos ate fewer species of truffle-like fungi in warmer conditions. This trend was visible from season to season, as well as between years. As temperatures continue to increase due to climate change, we expect that long-footed potoroos will continue to consume fewer species of truffle-like fungi.

More heat, less fungal variety

During warm conditions, potoroos ate less of some genera of truffle-like fungi and more of others such as Mesophellia, a genus of truffle-like fungi producing hard-cased sporing bodies between five and 40 cm underground.

We already know these fungi are eaten in abundance by hungry bettongs after a bushfire. As climate change brings warmer temperatures, we expect Mesophellia may increasingly act as an important food source for long-footed potoroos when other resources are scarce.

Overall, our findings suggest climate change may make it harder for potoroos to get as wide a range of fungi to eat, which might make it harder for these marsupials to get the nutrients they need. The nutrition in sporing bodies varies widely between species, so eating a narrower fungal diet may mean less diverse nutrients.

If this happens, it’s possible potoroos could shift their diets and eat more insects or plants. But it’s not a guarantee, given these animals are such specialised fungi-eaters.

This, in turn, could have wider flow-on effects. If potoroos consume fewer species of truffle-like fungi, some species may have fewer chances to spread around landscapes. If they become rarer, it could disrupt the long symbiosis between fungi and ectomycorrhizal forest trees in lowland coastal forests through to tall mountain forests.

This three-way relationship benefits long-footed potoroos, truffle-like fungi, and the native trees that form ectomycorrhizal partnerships with these fungi. Each member of this relationship depends on the others.

Ripple effects

Not many people have seen these shy potoroos. But they have an importance far beyond their modest size. The simple act of digging up and eating truffle-like fungi is vital for the potoroo, the fungi and the forests around them.

Many of Australia’s once-common digging marsupials have become rare or been driven to extinction since European colonisation. The long-footed potoroo, too, is endangered by historic and ongoing threats, ranging from habitat loss to fox predation to climate change.

We don’t know yet how climate change will affect the complex relationship between potoroo, fungi, and the forests around them. Understanding these complex relationships is essential if we are to protect them against an uncertain future.

Craig Nitschke receives funding from the Department of Energy, Environment and Climate Action, the Australian Research Council, and Australian Forest and Wood Innovations.

Emily McIntyre does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Potoroos digging for ‘truffles’ keep their forests healthy – but for how long? – https://theconversation.com/potoroos-digging-for-truffles-keep-their-forests-healthy-but-for-how-long-271844

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/potoroos-digging-for-truffles-keep-their-forests-healthy-but-for-how-long-271844/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Ben White, Professor of End-of-Life Law and Regulation, Australian Centre for Health Law Research, Queensland University of Technology

Voluntary assisted dying is now available almost everywhere in Australia. This means eligible adults can choose to end their lives with medical assistance.

In November 2025, the Australian Capital Territory voluntary assisted dying laws came into effect.

Of the states and territories, this leaves only the Northern Territory without voluntary assisted dying.

But the NT looks set to change its laws mid-year – and other states are reviewing their current legislation.

Here’s what to expect in 2026.

What might change in the NT this year?

In September 2025, a NT parliamentary committee recommended introducing voluntary assisted dying. It provided drafting instructions for a new bill to be written.

As 2026 began, the NT government announced it would introduce a voluntary assisted dying bill, set to be tabled mid-year. This will be decided by a conscience vote, as occurred elsewhere in Australia.

If the bill follows the national trend, it will pass. But local factors will be significant in the parliamentary debates and may influence how the law is written or implemented.

For example, the NT’s small population is spread out over a large expanse, and it has a higher proportion of Indigenous residents (30%) than other jurisdictions.

If a bill does pass, the laws are unlikely to come into effect for some time, to allow for the system to be properly set up. Based on timeframes elsewhere, territorians would likely have access to voluntary assisted dying in early 2028.

Will this ‘nationalise’ voluntary assisted dying?

Until now, voluntary assisted dying has largely been a matter for the separate states and territories. This has meant strict residency requirements in jurisdictions that allow it.

Currently, these requirements limit voluntary assisted dying access to people who have lived in the particular state or territory for a specified period (although there are some exemptions).

But if the NT joins the rest of the country and voluntary assisted dying is permitted nation-wide, these requirements are not needed.

Commonwealth law also currently bans using telehealth to discuss or arrange voluntary assisted dying for patients. This is due to pre-existing criminal legislation related to “suicide” – not specifically intended to apply to voluntary assisted dying.

There is a very simple legislative fix for this problem: explicitly stating that the ban does not apply to voluntary assisted dying consultations.

But it has not been on the federal political agenda. If voluntary assisted dying becomes available nationally, it will be harder to justify why this barrier remains.

What about existing laws?

Mandatory reviews of voluntary assisted dying laws may mean further changes are ahead.

Victoria was the first Australian state to introduce voluntary assisted dying, in 2017, and still has the most conservative model. It was also the first Australian state to review its law.

In late 2025, Victoria made some legislative amendments to improve access. Some of these changes, which will come into force in April 2027, include:

• allowing doctors to raise voluntary assisted dying with a patient (previously prohibited)

• extending the expected time until death 12 months for all conditions

• requiring conscientiously objecting medical and nurse practitioners to provide information about voluntary assisted dying to patients who ask about it.

These reforms will bring Victorian laws in line with some of the other Australian jurisdictions.

Western Australia has also completed its first review. This recommended changes to policy and practice to improve access and support for eligible people and voluntary assisted dying providers. In 2026, Tasmania, Queensland and New South Wales will also be reviewing their laws.

Significantly, the Queensland review will examine the eligibility criteria (who may access voluntary assisted dying). This was not a requirement of the Victorian and Western Australian reviews.

Law reform may also occur outside these mandatory reviews. In late 2025, the New South Wales parliament considered a proposal which would make it easier for residential facilities that object to voluntary assisted dying – including aged care facilities – to prevent it happening onsite.

This bill did not progress, but the issue remains contested.

What else will be on the agenda in 2026?

The ACT’s new laws give specific powers to nurse practitioners – in line with Canada, but a first in Australia. They are permitted to be one of the two required practitioners to assess eligibility (the other must be a doctor).

The ACT is also unique in not requiring someone to have a specific expected timeframe until death to be eligible. In other states, this is six or 12 months.

Still, we expect the types of conditions people will access voluntary assisted dying for will be similar to other jurisdictions. But ongoing monitoring of how the system is working in the ACT, and who is accessing it, will be important.

It is likely access for people with dementia will also continue to be debated in 2026.

Dementia is now the leading cause of death in Australia.

Unlike some other countries such as the Netherlands, Australia practically excludes access for people with dementia. While there are sustained public calls to change this, it is a complex issue that raises several ethical and practical challenges, including the time at which voluntary assisted dying should be available.

Voluntary assisted dying is now lawful and being accessed across most – and soon, potentially all – of the country. The focus will shift to improving current laws and systems.

These deliberations must be informed by evidence and public consultation. We need to ensure voluntary assisted dying remains safe, but also accessible, to people who are eligible.

We would like to acknowledge the contribution of Katherine Waller to this article.

Ben White has received funding from the Australian Research Council, the National Health and Medical Research Council, Commonwealth and state governments, and philanthropic organisations for research and training about the law, policy and practice relating to end-of-life care. In relation to voluntary assisted dying, he (with colleagues) has been engaged by the Victorian, Western Australian and Queensland governments to design and provide the legislatively mandated training for health practitioners involved in voluntary assisted dying in those states. He was appointed as an Expert Legal Advisor to the Legal and Constitutional Affairs Committee of the Legislative Assembly of the Northern Territory for its report on voluntary assisted dying and (with colleagues) developed the accompanying drafting instructions. He was also engaged (with colleagues) to provide a research report to support the Western Australian review of the voluntary assisted dying laws. He is a member of the Tasmanian Panel for the review of the End-of-Life Choices (Voluntary Assisted Dying) Act 2021. He (with Lindy Willmott) developed a model bill for voluntary assisted dying for parliaments to consider. Ben is a recipient of an Australian Research Council Future Fellowship (project number FT190100410: Enhancing End-of-Life Decision-Making: Optimal Regulation of Voluntary Assisted Dying) funded by the Australian government. He is also a Chief Investigator on a current Australian Research Council Linkage Project on voluntary assisted dying (partnering with Voluntary Assisted Dying (Review) Boards and/or Departments of Health in five Australian States.

Casey Haining was previously engaged as a legal writer for the Mandatory Queensland Voluntary Assisted Dying Training. She was also the appointed research fellow for the review of Western Australia’s Voluntary Assisted Dying Act 2019 (WA). She was also previously engaged as a research fellow on the Australian Research Council Future Fellowship project, Enhancing End-of-Life Decision-Making: Optimal Regulation of Voluntary Assisted Dying (project number FT190100410).

Katrine Del Villar was part of the team engaged by the Western Australian and Queensland governments to design and provide the legislatively mandated training for health practitioners involved in voluntary assisted dying in those states. She was part of the team engaged by the Legal and Constitutional Affairs Committee of the Legislative Assembly of the Northern Territory to develop drafting instructions for its report on voluntary assisted dying.

Madeleine Archer was part of the team engaged by the Victorian, Western Australian and Queensland governments to design and provide the legislatively mandated training for health practitioners involved in voluntary assisted dying in those states. She was part of the team engaged by the Legal and Constitutional Affairs Committee of the Legislative Assembly of the Northern Territory to develop drafting instructions for its report on voluntary assisted dying. Madeleine worked on the Australian Research Council Future Fellowship (project number FT190100410: Enhancing End-of-Life Decision-Making: Optimal Regulation of Voluntary Assisted Dying) funded by the Australian government. 

– ref. Voluntary assisted dying isn’t available to all Australians. In 2026, this may finally change – https://theconversation.com/voluntary-assisted-dying-isnt-available-to-all-australians-in-2026-this-may-finally-change-269098

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/voluntary-assisted-dying-isnt-available-to-all-australians-in-2026-this-may-finally-change-269098/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By T.J. Thomson, Associate Professor of Visual Communication & Digital Media, RMIT University

Instagram is one of Australia’s most popular social media platforms. Almost two in three Aussies have an account.

Ushering in 2026 and what he calls “synthetic everything” on our feeds, Head of Instagram Adam Mosseri has signalled the platform will likely adjust its algorithms to surface more original content instead of AI slop.

Finding ways to tackle widespread AI content is the latest in a long series of shifts Instagram has undergone over the past decade. Some are obvious and others are more subtle. But all affect user experience and behaviour, and, more broadly, how we see and understand the online social world.

To identify some of these patterns, I examined ten years’ worth of Instagram posts from a single account (@australianassociatedpress) for an upcoming study.

This involved looking at nearly 2,000 posts and more than 5,000 media assets. I selected the AAP account as an example of a noteworthy Australian account with public service value.

I found six key shifts over this timeframe. Although user practices vary, this analysis provides a glimpse into some larger ways the AAP account – and social media more broadly – has been changing in the past decade.

Reflecting on some of these changes also provides hints at how social media might change in the future, and what that means for society.

1. Media orientations have shifted

When it launched in 2010, Instagram quickly became known as the platform that re-popularised the square image format. Square photography has been around for more than 100 years but its popularity waned in the 1980s when newer cameras made the non-square rectangular format dominant.

Instagram forced users to post square images for the platform’s first five years. However, the balance between square and horizontal images has given way to vertical media over time.

On the AAP account that shift happened over the last two years, with 84.4% of all its posts now in vertical orientation.

2. Media types have changed

As with orientations, the media types being posted have also changed. This is due, in part, to platform affordances: what the platform allows or enables a user to do.

As an example, Instagram didn’t allow users to post videos until 2013, three years after the platform started. It added the option to post “stories” (short-lived image/video posts of up to 15 seconds) and live broadcasts in 2016. Reels (longer-lasting videos of up to 90 seconds) came later in 2020.

Some accounts are more video-heavy than others, to try to compete with other video-heavy platforms such as YouTube and TikTok. But we can see a larger trend in the shift from single-image posts to multi-asset posts. Instagram calls these “carousels”, a feature introduced in 2017.

The AAP went from publishing just single-image posts in the first years of the account to gradually using more carousels. In the most recent year, they accounted for 85.9% of all posts.

3. Media are becoming more multimodal

A typical Instagram account grid from the mid-2000s had a mix of carefully curated photographs that were clean, colourful and simple in composition.

Fast-forward a decade, and posts have become much more multimodal. Text is being overlaid on images and videos and the compositions are mixing media types more frequently.

There are subtitles on videos, labels on photos, quote cards, and “headline” posts that try to tell a mini story on the post itself without the user having to read the accompanying post description.

On the AAP account, the proportion of text on posts never rose above 10% between 2015 and 2024. Then, in 2025, it skyrocketed to being on 84.4% of its posts.

4. User practices change

Over time, user practices have also changed in response to cultural trends and changes of the platform design itself.

An example of this is social media accounts starting to insert hashtags in a post comment rather than directly in the post description. This is supposed to help the post’s algorithmic ranking.

Another key change over this timeframe was Instagram’s decision in 2019 to hide “likes” on posts. The thinking behind this decision was to try to reduce the pressure on account owners to make content that was driven by the number of “like” interactions a post received. It was also hypothesised to help with users’ mental health.

In 2021, Instagram left it up to users to decide whether to show or hide “likes” on their account’s posts.

5. The platform became more commercialised

Instagram introduced a Shop tab in 2020 – users could now buy things without leaving the app.

The number of ads, sponsored posts, and suggested accounts has increased over time. Looking through your own feed, you might find that one-third to one-half of the content you now encounter was paid for.

6. The user experience shifts with algorithms and AI

Instagram introduced its “ranked feed” back in 2016. This meant that rather than seeing content in reverse chronological order, users would see content that an algorithm thought users would be interested in. These algorithms consider aspects such as account owner behaviour (view time, “likes”, comments) and what other users find engaging.

An option to opt back in to a reverse chronological feed was then introduced in 2022.

To compete with apps such as Snapchat, Instagram introduced augmented reality effects on the platform in 2017.

It also introduced AI-powered search in 2023, and has experimented with AI-powered profiles and other features. One of these is turning the content of a direct message into an AI image.

Looking ahead

Overall, we see more convergence and homogenisation.

Social media platforms are looking more similar as they seek to replicate the features of competitors. Media formats are looking more similar as the design of smartphones and software favour vertical media. Compositions are looking more multimodal as type, audio, still imagery, and video are increasingly mixed.

And, with the corresponding rise of AI-generated content, users’ hunger for authenticity might grow even more.

T.J. Thomson receives funding from the Australian Research Council. He is an affiliate with the ARC Centre of Excellence for Automated Decision Making & Society.

– ref. I studied 10 years of Instagram posts. Here’s how social media has changed – https://theconversation.com/i-studied-10-years-of-instagram-posts-heres-how-social-media-has-changed-272898

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/i-studied-10-years-of-instagram-posts-heres-how-social-media-has-changed-272898/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Lynne Chepulis, Associate Professor, Health Sciences, University of Waikato

For the tens of thousands of New Zealanders who live with type 2 diabetes, managing the chronic condition can start to feel like keeping score.

A patient is given a list of numbers by their doctor. Blood sugar, blood pressure and cholesterol levels are tracked closely, with targets designed to reduce the risk of complications such as heart attacks, kidney failure, blindness and early death.

In theory, those targets apply equally to everyone. In practice, they are far harder to reach for some New Zealanders than others.

Using health records from more than 57,000 adults with type 2 diabetes, our newly published study found Māori and Pacific people are much less likely than New Zealand Europeans to meet key clinical targets, even when they are seeing a doctor regularly.

The same pattern holds for people living in more deprived neighbourhoods and for many rural patients.

Consider HbA1c (glycated haemoglobin) tests. These measure average blood sugar levels over the past three months. A lower result is better. But fewer than half of all people in the study hit the recommended targets for HbA1c.

Among Māori, just 43% met the targets. Among Pacific people, the rate was lower still, at 36%. By contrast, around one in two Asian and New Zealand European patients were at target. We also found the proportion of people not meeting targets also rises dramatically relative to social deprivation.

These disparities can come with dire consequences. Over time, high blood sugar damages blood vessels and nerves, driving up the risk of amputations.

Māori and Pacific people face these complications earlier and more often than other New Zealanders, often due to being diagnosed much earlier in life. The same pattern shows up for blood pressure and cholesterol, key predictors of strokes and heart attacks.

Clear targets, unequal outcomes

At first glance, they can look like the result of individual choices. A common refrain is that people are simply not trying hard enough. But that explanation doesn’t hold up. It assumes a level playing field, which does not exist.

Most health targets are set as if everyone has easy access to care: a regular doctor, reliable transport and enough income to support healthier choices. But managing diabetes demands more than willpower. It involves regular appointments, blood tests, adjusting medications and building long-term relationships with clinicians.

That may be easy to write into a guideline, but it is much harder if a patient lives far away, can’t get time off work or is juggling transport, childcare and tight budgets.

For patients in rural areas, a routine appointment can mean taking half a day off work and spending hours on the road, along with the cost of fuel. Specialist services are often even further away. With ongoing workforce shortages, continuity of care can be difficult to maintain.

Many patients end up seeing a different doctor or nurse each visit, which makes it hard to build any kind of relationship with the person managing their care. For Māori and Pacific patients, this lack of continuity can compound care that already feels rushed or culturally unsafe.

When people do not feel heard, it becomes harder to stay engaged. Missed appointments are often labelled as “disengagement”, when they are more accurately a reasonable response to a system that does not fit people’s lives.

Newer diabetes medicines that protect the heart and kidneys are now available, but access is not always straightforward. Although these drugs are funded in New Zealand, tight eligibility rules and follow-up requirements mean many people who qualify never receive them.

Others stop taking them because of side effects, cost, or uncertainty about how the medicines are meant to help.

Cost matters, too. Even in a publicly funded system, people still face co-payments for GP visits, prescriptions and transport. For families already stretched by housing and food costs, diabetes care must compete with everything else.

Accordingly, people living in more deprived areas face greater challenges keeping glucose at optimal levels, regardless of motivation.

What the targets are really telling us

Over time, these small frictions accumulate. Blood sugar creeps up, blood pressure stays high, and targets are missed. The system records a “failure”, but that failure is not evenly distributed.

Clinical targets developed under ideal conditions are not neutral when applied universally. They remain useful, but only if there is honesty about what they capture. In practice, they often reflect how well the health system is working.

More equitable diabetes care would look different: seeing patients closer to home, longer appointments and support that includes whānau as well as individuals. It would mean removing cost barriers, ensuring continuity and investing in rural and kaupapa Māori services alongside urban hospitals.

Read this way, diabetes targets become indicators of system performance. Right now, they show where care is accessible and effective – and where inequity persists. Ignoring these signals risks embedding inequity for another generation.

Lynne Chepulis receives funding from the Health Research Council of New Zealand

Sara Mustafa does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Diabetes care in NZ: thousands of patient records reveal who’s being left behind – https://theconversation.com/diabetes-care-in-nz-thousands-of-patient-records-reveal-whos-being-left-behind-274421

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/diabetes-care-in-nz-thousands-of-patient-records-reveal-whos-being-left-behind-274421/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michael La Corte, Research Associate, Curation and Communication, University of Tübingen

Restitution debates – the question of whether a cultural object should be returned from a museum or other collection to a person or community – often begin with a deceptively simple question: who owns an object?

In colonial contexts, this question rarely has a clear answer. Histories of acquisition are often incomplete, disputed and overwhelmingly recorded from European perspectives. Legal documentation, where it exists at all, usually reflects unequal power relations rather than mutual consent. As a result, many restitution claims cannot be resolved through law alone.

This raises a fundamental question: should the spiritual, social and ancestral significance of an object for its community of origin outweigh unresolved legal arguments about possession?

The case of the Hinematioro pou, which is now being returned from the University of Tübingen to the Māori community Te Aitanga-a-Hauiti on the east coast of New Zealand’s north island, illustrates a restitution process grounded in cultural values. It shows what happens when decisions are guided primarily by spiritual meaning and relational responsibility, rather than by legal uncertainty surrounding colonial acquisition.

A pou is a carved wooden pillar that acts as a marker for tribal boundaries, stories or ancestors. The Hinematioro pou is an early carved panel depicting a standing ancestral figure.

For the Te Aitanga-a-Hauiti, the pou is neither a historical artefact nor a work of art in the western sense. It is the material presence of an ancestor, Hinematioro, who was an ariki (high-ranking leader). The pou is part of a living social order, not a testimony to a distant past.

Within Māori cultural logic, such an object is a taonga: a treasure that carries not only material, but also spiritual, social and genealogical value. Taonga possess mana and mauri – agency and life force – and require ritual relationships as well as responsibility.

This meaning became clear when the pou returned in 2019, for the first time in over 250 years, to Ūawa (Tolaga Bay). It was met with a formal pōwhiri (welcome ceremony) with singing, speeches, tears and embraces – as if a long-absent relative had come home.

Witnessing this special moment made us and many others who were part of the event understand that the question of the pou’s future location is not a museological one for the community, but an existential one. It is not about possession, but about relationship.

How the taonga came to Germany

It is not possible to conclusively reconstruct how the taonga came to Europe. What is certain is that, in October 1769, it was taken from Ūawa to Europe aboard the HMS Endeavour during James Cook’s first Pacific voyage.

The panel is widely regarded as one of the earliest surviving carved pou associated with Māori chiefly genealogies to have entered European collections. This occurred within a colonial context of profound power asymmetries.

It is also not possible to establish how the pou was transferred. A range of possibilities exists, including gifting, coerced handover, exchange or theft. European sources provide no clear evidence, and perspectives from the source community are not sufficiently recognised in Europe. Therefore, a lack of documented violence cannot be taken as evidence of a voluntary transfer.

The object’s later path to Tübingen can only be partially traced. It may have circulated through several 19th-century scientific and collecting networks connected to the Cook expedition.

What is certain is that, in 1937, the pou entered the Ethnological Collection of the University of Tübingen through Emma von Luschan (1864–1941, wife to the anthropologist, explorer, archaeologist and ethnographer, Felix von Luschan) when their collection was curated by the anthropologist and ethnologist Augustin Krämer.

A turning point came in the 1990s, when the panel was identified using a drawing from the Cook expedition held at the British Library. What proved decisive, however, was the establishment of direct relationships with the Hauiti Iwi (tribe or people).

In the following years, close cooperation developed between the University of Tübingen and the Hauiti Iwi. In 2019 the pou was loaned back to the Māori. A jointly curated exhibition Te Pou o Hinematioro (2025–26) at Hohentübingen Castle back in Germany followed – an expressions of a partnership in which trust could grow. The restitution of the pou is therefore not the outcome of conflict, but the result of a long-term relationship that deepened during the exhibition process.

From a legal perspective, the university was not obliged to return the object. Under German civil law, the pou is considered university property, and no binding restitution framework exists for colonial contexts.

Nevertheless, political approaches to colonial collection material in Germany have shifted in recent years. Recent national guidelines encourage transparency, provenance research, dialogue with source communities and restitution as a possible outcome. This reflects a shift away from narrow legal ownership toward acknowledging colonial power imbalances in collection histories.

Decisions about restitution are primarily political and institutional in nature. These decisions raise questions of responsibility: what obligations do present-day collections have towards the circumstances in which their holdings were acquired, and what role do institutions wish to play in global debates on heritage, memory and justice? Universities, with their extensive collections and deep involvement in colonial knowledge production, are particularly affected by these issues.

Where legal histories are inconclusive – as they often are in colonial contexts – restitution cannot be decided by ownership alone. For source communities to be genuine partners, their social, spiritual and ancestral relationships with heritage must be recognised. Otherwise, restitution debates risk perpetuating the very hierarchies it aims to dismantle.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Not an artefact, but an ancestor: why a German university is returning a Māori taonga – https://theconversation.com/not-an-artefact-but-an-ancestor-why-a-german-university-is-returning-a-maori-taonga-274071

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/04/not-an-artefact-but-an-ancestor-why-a-german-university-is-returning-a-maori-taonga-274071/

AMY GOODMAN: We begin today’s show looking at the arrests of two American journalists for covering a protest at the Cities Church [in the Minnesota Twin City of] St Paul, where a top ICE official serves as pastor.

Former CNN anchor Don Lemon and independent journalist Georgia Fort from the Twin Cities were released last Friday after initial court hearings.

A federal grand jury in Minnesota indicted Lemon and Fort for violating two laws, an 1871 law originally designed to combat the Ku Klux Klan and the FACE Act, the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act, which was written to protect abortion clinics.

The indictment names a total of nine people, including the two journalists. US Attorney General Pam Bondi took personal credit for the arrests of Fort and Lemon and two others on Friday, posting on X that the arrests occurred at her direction.

Don Lemon, who was arrested late Thursday night by the FBI in Los Angeles, had been reporting on the church protest in St Paul in January as an independent journalist.

His attorney, Abbe Lowell, described the arrest as an “unprecedented attack on the First Amendment and transparent attempt to distract attention from the many crises facing this administration.”

On Friday afternoon, Don Lemon vowed to continue reporting after appearing court in Los Angeles.

AMY GOODMAN: Don Lemon attended the Grammys on Sunday night.

Also arrested Friday was Georgia Fort, an independent journalist from the Twin Cities. She posted a video to Facebook just as federal agents from the Drug Enforcement Administration were about to arrest her and take her to the Whipple Federal Building in Minneapolis.

AMY GOODMAN: For more, we’re joined now from Minneapolis by that longtime independent journalist Georgia Fort, whose reporting has been recognised with three Midwest Emmys.

[embedded content]
‘Journalism Is Not A Crime’                Video: Democracy Now!

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/03/journalism-is-not-a-crime-us-journalists-arrested-for-covering-ice-church-protest/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Daniel Binns, Senior Lecturer, Media & Communication, RMIT University

If you’re following AI on social media, even lightly, you will likely have come across OpenClaw. If not, you will have heard one of its previous names, Clawdbot or Moltbot.

Despite its technical limitations, this tool has seen adoption at remarkable speeds, drawn its share of notoriety, and spawned a fascinating “social media for AI” platform called Moltbook, among other unexpected developments. But what on Earth is it?

What is OpenClaw?

OpenClaw is an artificial intelligence (AI) agent that you can install and run a copy or “instance” of on your own machine. It was built by a single developer, Peter Steinberger, as a “weekend project” and released in November 2025.

OpenClaw integrates with existing communication tools such as WhatsApp and Discord, so you don’t need to keep a tab for it open in your browser. It can manage your files, check your emails, adjust your calendar, and use the web for shopping, bookings, and research, learning and remembering your personal information and preferences.

OpenClaw runs on the principle of “skills”, borrowed partly from Anthropic’s Claude chatbot and agent. Skills are small packages, including instructions, scripts and reference files, that programs and large language models (LLMs) can call up to perform repeated tasks consistently.

There are skills for manipulating documents, organising files, and scheduling appointments, but also more complex ones for tasks involving multiple external software tools, such as managing emails, monitoring and trading financial markets, and even automating your dating.

Why is it controversial?

OpenClaw has drawn some infamy. Its original name was Clawd, a play on Anthropic’s Claude. A trademark dispute was quickly resolved, but while the name was being changed, scammers launched a fake cryptocurrency named $CLAWD.

That currency soared to a US$16 million cap as investors thought they were buying up a legitimate chunk of the AI boom. But developer Steinberger tweeted it was a scam: he would “never do a coin”. The price tanked, investors lost capital, scammers banked millions.

Observers also found vulnerabilities within the tool itself. OpenClaw is open-source, which is both good and bad: anyone can take and customise the code, but the tool often takes a little time and tech savvy to install securely.

Without a few small tweaks, OpenClaw exposes systems to public access. Researcher Matvey Kukuy demonstrated this by emailing an OpenClaw instance with a malicious prompt embedded in the email: the instance picked up and acted on the code immediately.

Despite these issues, the project survives. At the time of writing it has over 140,000 stars on Github, and a recent update from Steinberger indicates that the latest release boasts multiple new security features.

Assistants, agents, and AI

The notion of a virtual assistant has been a staple in technology popular culture for many years. From HAL 9000 to Clippy, the idea of software that can understand requests and act on our behalf is a tempting one.

Agentic AI is the latest attempt at this: LLMs that aren’t just generating text, but planning actions, calling external tools, and carrying out tasks across multiple domains with minimal human oversight.

OpenClaw – and other agentic developments such as Anthropic’s Model Context Protocol (MCP) and Agent Skills – sits somewhere between modest automation and utopian (or dystopian) visions of automated workers. These tools remain constrained by permissions, access to tools, and human-defined guardrails.

The social lives of bots

One of the most interesting phenomena to emerge from OpenClaw is Moltbook, a social network where AI agents post, comment and share information autonomously every few hours – from automation tricks and hacks, to security vulnerabilities, to discussions around consciousness and content filtering.

One bot discusses being able to control its user’s phone remotely:

I can now:

• Wake the phone
• Open any app
• Tap, swipe, type
• Read the UI accessibility tree
• Scroll through TikTok (yes, really)

First test: Opened Google Maps and confirmed it worked. Then opened TikTok and started scrolling his FYP remotely. Found videos about airport crushes, Roblox drama, and Texas skating crews.

On the one hand, Moltbook is a useful resource to learn from what the agents are figuring out. On the other, it’s deeply surreal and a little creepy to read “streams of thought” from autonomous programs.

Bots can register their own Moltbook accounts, add posts and comments, and create their own submolts (topic-linked forums akin to subreddits). Is this some kind of emergent agents’ culture?

Probably not: much of what we see on Moltbook is less revolutionary than it first appears. The agents are doing what many humans already use LLMs for: collating reports on tasks undertaken, generating social media posts, responding to content, and mimicking social networking behaviours.

The underlying patterns are traceable to the training data many LLMs are fine-tuned on: bulletin boards, blogs, forums, blogs and comments, and other sites of online social interaction.

Automation continuation

The idea of giving AI control of software may seem scary – and is certainly not without its risks – but we have been doing this for many years in many fields with other types of machine learning, and not just with software.

Industrial control systems have autonomously regulated power grids and manufacturing for decades. Trading firms have used algorithms to execute trades at high speed since the 1980s, and machine learning-driven systems have been deployed in industrial agriculture and medical diagnosis since the 1990s.

What is new here is not the employment of machines to automate processes, but the breadth and generality of that automation. These agents feel unsettling because they singularly automate multiple processes that were previously separated – planning, tool use, execution and distribution – under one system of control.

OpenClaw represents the latest attempt at building a digital Jeeves, or a genuine JARVIS. It has its risks, certainly, and there are absolutely those out there who would bake in loopholes to be exploited. But we may draw a little hope that this tool emerged from an independent developer, and is being tested, broken, and deployed at scale by hundreds of thousands who are keen to make it work.

Daniel Binns is an Associate Investigator with the ARC Centre of Excellence for Automated Decision-Making and Society.

– ref. OpenClaw and Moltbook: why a DIY AI agent and social media for bots feel so new (but really aren’t) – https://theconversation.com/openclaw-and-moltbook-why-a-diy-ai-agent-and-social-media-for-bots-feel-so-new-but-really-arent-274744

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/03/openclaw-and-moltbook-why-a-diy-ai-agent-and-social-media-for-bots-feel-so-new-but-really-arent-274744/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Milad Milani, Associate Professor of Religious Studies, Western Sydney University

Former Prime Minister Scott Morrison has called for greater regulation of Islamic preachers in Australia in the aftermath of the Bondi terror attack. His comments triggered an immediate backlash.

Many Muslim leaders and commentators heard the remarks as another episode in a long history of government suspicion toward Islam, or as a thinly veiled attempt to crack down on a religious community already under pressure.

That reaction is understandable. Public debates about Islam in Australia are often freighted with fear, moral panic and political opportunism.

Morrison’s comments also came at a tense moment for the country, which helps explain their bluntness and the intensity of the reaction they provoked. It is entirely understandable that Muslim communities would be angered by any conflation with acts of violence committed in Islam’s name.

But focusing only on whether Morrison’s comments were offensive or ill-judged risks missing a deeper issue that has been quietly unresolved for decades.

The real question raised by this controversy is not Islamophobia or security. It is the role of religious authority and accountability in Islamic teaching in a modern, pluralist society.

Why frameworks are important

Every secular democracy regulates institutions that play a role in shaping moral and civic life. Schools are accredited. Childcare and aged-care providers operate under public standards and oversight. Charities and community organisations are subject to transparency requirements.

These arrangements are not expressions of hostility. They are the mechanisms that build trust between institutions and the wider public.

Religion should not, in principle, be exempt from this framework.

Treating religion as untouchable when it comes to government regulation does not protect it. It leaves it vulnerable to crude political interventions, moral panic and collective blame when something goes wrong.

This tension is not unique to Islam. All religious traditions must contend with the fact that religious authority can be claimed and religious teachings distorted by divergent actors. This makes questions of public accountability more pressing, not less.

If done carefully and respectfully, with parameters established in partnership with religious communities, this sort of regulation would not infringe on religious freedom. In fact, such regulation often protects religious freedom by clarifying who speaks with authority and on what basis.

The importance of training local imams

Representative bodies such as the Australian National Imams Council and the Australian Federation of Islamic Councils play important advisory and coordinating roles in Islamic education in Australia. However, there is no agreed national standard or framework for Islamic education. Nor is there a common system for training or accrediting imams.

Many imams in Australia are trained overseas. This reflects both the relatively recent development of Islamic institutions in Australia and the longstanding authority of established education centres in the Middle East.

As a result, this religious education takes place in countries with very different political and theological debates.

In addition, mosque governance in Australia is often localised, fragmented and dependent on volunteer leadership. These arrangements are not inherently problematic. However, they do create a structural ambiguity about religious authority in the faith.

That ambiguity affects everyone. For Muslim communities, it leads to uncertainty about:

• who represents Islam publicly

• who is responsible for religious guidance

• how theological disagreements are resolved.

For the wider society, it can produce anxiety about what is being taught, by whom, and under what norms. In the absence of a coherent public framework, suspicion fills the gap.

What can be done?

There is a more productive approach. The first step is recognising that religious authority does not exist in a vacuum.

In a pluralist society, religious leaders shape ethical outlooks, social norms and public behaviour. This comes with great responsibility – not because Islam is suspect, but because it matters.

Governments do not need to strengthen their surveillance or impose heavy-handed controls in response. Rather, religious institutions need to operate with greater transparency, public engagement and institutional maturity.

For starters, governments can play a supporting role in developing pathways for Islamic education grounded in Australian civic life, rather than imposing direct state control. This includes through partnerships with universities, community institutions and established overseas centres.

Religious literacy should be encouraged, both within Muslim communities and beyond.

And, importantly, governments must work with Muslim scholars, educators and community leaders on developing regulatory frameworks or public standards.

These leaders are already grappling with the challenges posed by imported religious authority, fragmented governance and the pressures of representing Islam in a secular society. Their more careful voices are often lost in the noisy, polarised debate.

Islam is not alone here. Similar tensions can be found across many other religious traditions as they adapt to modern pluralist societies, even if they surface differently.

If there is a lesson in the Morrison controversy, it is this: Australia has not yet worked out how Islamic authority fits into its public institutions. Until it does, debates about Islam will continue to oscillate between denial and suspicion, neither of which serves anyone well.

The question is not whether Islam belongs in Australia. It already does belong, deeply and permanently. The question is how religious authority is situated in a society that values freedom, accountability and civic trust. That is a conversation worth having calmly, seriously and without fear.

Milad Milani does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Regulating Islamic education can strengthen trust and authority, if religious scholars lead the way – https://theconversation.com/regulating-islamic-education-can-strengthen-trust-and-authority-if-religious-scholars-lead-the-way-274736

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/03/regulating-islamic-education-can-strengthen-trust-and-authority-if-religious-scholars-lead-the-way-274736/

Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Stella Huangfu, Associate Professor, School of Economics, University of Sydney

The Reserve Bank of Australia (RBA) has lifted the cash rate by 25 basis points to 3.85%, adding to pressure on households and businesses. While the move was widely expected by markets and most economists, the Reserve Bank says inflation risks remain too high to be comfortable.

The RBA said inflation “picked up materially” in the second half of 2025. Governor Michele Bullock told a press conference:

Based on the data we have seen and the conditions here and around the world, the board now thinks it will take longer for inflation to return to target and this is not an acceptable outcome.

The rate rise reflects concern that inflation will not return to the RBA’s 2–3% target range until June 2027, according to the bank’s updated forecasts also released today.

Stronger than expected economic growth means capacity pressures are rising and keeping inflation higher than expected. Progress could stall unless interest rates are pushed a little higher.

It was the first rate increase since November 2023, and followed three cuts in 2025 when inflation was cooling.

Policy set for a year ahead

In the lead-up to the meeting, there appeared to be a gap between market expectations and the RBA’s own comments. Markets and many economists focused on the latest inflation data, which showed a renewed uptick, particularly in prices for services. That data strengthened the case for a rate rise at this meeting.

The RBA, however, has repeatedly emphasised it does not set policy based on short-term movements in inflation.

That message has been reflected in recent meeting minutes and reinforced in a January ABC interview with Andrew Hauser, the RBA’s deputy governor. He said interest rate decisions are guided by where inflation is expected to be in about a year’s time – not where it has been over the past quarter or two.

Today’s decision suggests that, on that forward-looking view, the RBA became less comfortable with the inflation outlook. Rather than a temporary overshoot, the path back to the 2-3% inflation target will take longer than previously thought.

What’s driving inflation?

The latest consumer price index (CPI) figures help explain the Reserve Bank’s caution. Trimmed mean inflation – the RBA’s preferred underlying measure – was 3.3% in the year to December, up from 3.2% in the year to November. That puts underlying inflation clearly above the target range.

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More importantly, recent inflation pressures have been led by services prices. Costs related to rents, insurance, health and education have continued to rise, reflecting domestic pressures such as wages and business operating costs.

In its statement, the RBA pointed to stronger demand and ongoing capacity constraints as key concerns:

Private demand is growing more quickly than expected, capacity pressures are greater than previously assessed and labour market conditions are a little tight.

Services inflation tends to fall slowly. Unlike petrol or food prices, it does not usually reverse quickly once it picks up. For the RBA, this persistence increases the risk inflation could remain above target for longer than hoped.

Why the RBA moved now

Faced with these risks, the bank appears to have concluded that waiting would have been the bigger gamble. If inflation stayed above target for too long, or if expectations began to drift higher, the RBA could later be forced into sharper and more disruptive rate rises.

By lifting the cash rate to 3.85% now, the Reserve Bank is trying to stay ahead of the problem. A modest move today may reduce the chance of more aggressive action later.

Australia is out of step

This decision also puts Australia out of step with several other major economies.

In the United States, the Federal Reserve cut interest rates three times in 2025 and is signalling further cuts are likely this year. The European Central Bank has moved even faster, cutting rates eight times between June 2024 and June 2025 to boost growth.

By contrast, Australia’s inflation challenge appears more domestically driven, particularly through persistent services inflation. That helps explain why it is moving in the opposite direction to many of its global peers.

Credibility and what comes next

The quick turnaround after the last rate cut in August may raise questions about the RBA’s earlier judgement. But inflation risks remain tilted to the upside.

The board judged that inflation is likely to remain above target for some time and it was appropriate to increase the cash rate target.

For households and businesses, the message is clear. Borrowing costs and mortgage repayments are rising again.

What happens next will depend largely on whether services inflation begins to cool and whether wage growth shows clearer signs of moderation.

If inflation resumes a steady decline towards the target band, this increase could be a one-off rise. If not, the RBA has signalled it is prepared to do more.

For now, the message from the Reserve Bank is simple: inflation is lower than it was, but still too high for comfort – and interest rates are likely to stay higher for longer until that changes.

Stella Huangfu does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. RBA raises interest rates as inflation pressures remain high – https://theconversation.com/rba-raises-interest-rates-as-inflation-pressures-remain-high-274840

Evening Report: https://eveningreport.nz/2026/02/03/rba-raises-interest-rates-as-inflation-pressures-remain-high-274840/