Latest news with #Floc
NZ Herald
23-05-2025
- Business
- NZ Herald
Strong wool revival: Floc's acoustic panels gain traction in design industry
Manufactured in New Zealand, using locally sourced fibre, Floc aims to drive strong wool demand with its bespoke 'hero product', which commands a premium price. 'We are targeting four walls and a ceiling,' Tom O'Sullivan, Floc's business development manager, said. In other words, strong wool has way more potential than just producing flooring. O'Sullivan knows his wool, having been a farmer himself. He also comes from several generations of farmers and was the previous chairman of Campaign for Wool New Zealand. Floc's story started on the green pastures of New Zealand, and it is catching the eye of architects and interior designers both here and overseas. Floc is manufactured in Christchurch, with the product being made to 8mm-10mm thickness. It adheres to walls like wallpaper using a natural adhesive and is coloured using natural dyes. The colour range is stunning and vibrant, can be directly printed on, and comes in a wide range of formats, allowing bespoke interior solutions to be created for clients. Floc has been used to line the walls in the recent upgrade of the Ivey West Memorial Hall project at Lincoln University. The panels have been printed to represent the university's cultural narrative, and they are a stunning addition to the building, as well as being practical, with fire safety in mind. The product is making itself known, gracing the walls of BNZ buildings around New Zealand. Not only aesthetically pleasing, the panels are also easy to install, have a Group S1 rating when it comes to fire resistance, no red list chemicals, and are sustainable and fully biodegradable to end of life. Very shortly, Floc will be the first wool product in New Zealand with an Environmental Product Declaration (EPD). The range includes a 'Floc Tear Drop' baffle, 'Floc Cloud' ceiling or wall panel, and 'Floc 3D' and 'Floc Roll' wall lining. Plastics have dominated the global acoustic market for years, and, with the move away from synthetics and a return to natural fibres, Floc's products certainly fill a much-needed gap. Now is the biggest opportunity for our wool industry to start showing some dominance in the market, with consumers wanting natural products, whether for their home or business. In the meantime, O'Sullivan is heading off to Melbourne in June to attend The Design Show and promote Floc to Australian architects and consumers.
Epoch Times
19-05-2025
- Health
- Epoch Times
Improving Public Health
Commentary Once a field grounded in data, experimentation, and skepticism, public health has morphed into something resembling a secular religion. Where it used to prioritize measurable outcomes and open debate, it now often demands faith, enforces dogma, and ostracizes dissenters. This transformation, accelerated by the COVID-19 pandemic, threatens the credibility of public health and its ability to serve the common good. The Academic Roots of Public Health Historically, public health was an academic discipline rooted in the scientific method. From John Snow's cholera investigations in 19th-century London to the eradication of smallpox in the 20th century, public health relied on evidence, hypothesis testing, and iterative progress. Practitioners debated fiercely, questioned assumptions, and adapted to new data. The field's strength lay in its humility: no single expert or institution claimed to have all the answers, and policies were shaped through scrutiny. This academic rigor produced tangible results. Life expectancy in the United States rose from 47 years in 1900 to 78 years by 2000, thanks to sanitation and disease surveillance. Public health was a collaborative enterprise, blending epidemiology, biology, and sociology to address complex problems. Its authority came from transparency and a willingness to be proven wrong. The Rise of Dogma Today, public health increasingly resembles a religion, complete with sacred tenets, high priests, and excommunication for heretics. The shift began subtly but became undeniable during the COVID-19 pandemic. Mandates on masks, lockdowns, and vaccines were often presented as unquestionable truths, despite evolving evidence and legitimate uncertainties. For instance, early claims that masks were universally effective ignored nuanced studies showing varied efficacy depending on type and setting. Yet, questioning these mandates was labeled 'anti-science,' a scarlet letter that silenced debate. This dogmatism extends beyond pandemics. Public health now often prioritizes ideology over evidence. Take the debate over ultra-processed foods: while data links them to obesity and chronic disease, some public health officials downplay the issue, citing 'food equity' or industry ties. Similarly, harm reduction strategies like supervised injection sites are championed as moral imperatives, even where studies show mixed results on community impact. Dissenters—whether scientists, journalists, or citizens—are dismissed as heretics, their arguments ignored rather than engaged. The language of public health mirrors religious fervor. Terms like 'trust the science' evoke faith, not scrutiny. Institutions like the CDC and WHO are treated as infallible, despite documented missteps. On platforms like X, public health advocates often frame compliance as a moral duty, casting skeptics as selfish or dangerous. This echoes religious calls to sacrifice for the greater good, not the open inquiry of academia. The Priesthood and the Flock Public health's new clergy—celebrity experts, agency heads, and influencers—wield authority akin to religious leaders. Figures like Anthony Fauci became near-saintly during the pandemic, their words treated as gospel despite inconsistencies. Meanwhile, the public is cast as a flock, expected to follow without question. This dynamic erodes the academic principle of peer review, replacing it with top-down pronouncements. The priesthood enforces orthodoxy through social and professional penalties. Scientists who questioned lockdown efficacy, like those behind the Great Barrington Declaration, faced censorship and career threats. A 2023 study found that 25 percent of U.S. academics reported self-censoring on public health issues to avoid backlash. This is not science; it's inquisition. True academia thrives on challenge, but public health's new religion punishes it. Why This Matters The shift from discipline to dogma undermines public trust. A 2024 Gallup poll showed only 40 percent of Americans trust public health institutions, down from 70 percent in 2000. This erosion fuels skepticism toward vaccines, screenings, and other interventions, as people conflate legitimate tools with overreach. When public health demands blind faith, it alienates the very audience it needs to persuade. Related Stories 5/16/2025 5/8/2025 Moreover, treating public health as a religion stifles innovation. Academic fields advance by questioning orthodoxy—think Galileo—but today's public health punishes such courage. This risks stagnation at a time when chronic diseases affect 60 percent of Americans and new pathogens loom. Reclaiming the Discipline To restore public health as an academic pursuit, we must reject its religious trappings. First, institutions must prioritize transparency, releasing raw data and admitting uncertainties. The CDC's reluctance to share vaccine side-effect data, citing 'misinterpretation,' breeds distrust. Second, debate must be encouraged, not vilified. Platforms like X, where unfiltered voices challenge orthodoxy, can help, but only if public health engages rather than dismisses them. Finally, the field must diversify its priesthood, amplifying voices from outside the elite echo chamber—community doctors, statisticians, even skeptics. Public health's power lies in its ability to improve lives through reason, not revelation. By shedding dogma and embracing scrutiny, it can reclaim its academic soul. If it fails, it risks becoming a relic—a faith few follow, and fewer trust. Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.
