Latest news with #Whitlam
The Advertiser
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Advertiser
What makes a song 'Australian'? Triple J's Hottest 100 reignites bigger question
On July 26, Triple J will broadcast the Hottest 100 Australian Songs, as voted by the public. While predictions for winners and even preemptive complaining about the shortlist are taking up column space and social media posts, there is an underlying question: what we mean when we talk about "Australian songs"? Do these songs sound a particular way? Do they express something about what it means to be Australian? Or is it purely about where the artist was born? Importantly, how will each of these factors influence voting? Musical cultures with their own unique sounds have existed on this continent for tens of thousands of years. The sound of the didgeridoo is often used as a shorthand to signify Australianness in films, television and, to a lesser extent, popular songs. However, the history of dispossession and genocidal practices that have accompanied settlement in Australia means much has been lost from these musical traditions. Indigenous performers have been actively excluded from the same music-making spaces where other songs we think of as "Australian" have been created. Since British colonisation in the late 18th century, Australian music has also been part of global music flows. Settlers arrived with songs and musical influences from their own cultures. Jazz, country, rock and pop inspired local versions of these genres. But is there anything truly Australian about such music, or is it just imitation? And this conundrum connects to wider issues of Australia's identity debated during the 20th century: was it a country, or still just a colony? Back in the 1970s, this question was also on then prime minister Gough Whitlams's mind. After his election in 1972, Whitlam gave a huge boost to funding for cultural and creative activities to "help establish and express an Australian identity through the arts", as part of a suite of nation-building activities. The dirty guitar sounds of the pub rock scene of the 1970s, with its associated subcultures, are sometimes said to be Australia's first distinct offering in post-rock 'n' roll music. This was followed by the rise of bands such as Midnight Oil and Cold Chisel, who found success not just by drawing on more local sounds, but also by referencing Australian places, politics and cultures. The Whitlam government's broadcasting reforms meant this music had homes on community radio and the new youth station 2JJ (now Triple J). The bands from this era have come to make up what might be described as the Oz rock canon - a collection of works seen to make up the "best" of the art form. Canons exert a strong influence over how we assess music, meaning these bands will probably appear in tomorrow's countdown. This idea of the rock canon is almost perfectly reflected in the ten entries by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese to tomorrow's countdown. His selection of almost 100% white male musicians encapsulates the exclusionary nature rock of this period. The fact that our last two prime ministers, despite being from opposite sides of politics, produced very similar lists, gives us insight into the persistence of this canon, and what ideas about "Australian culture" circulate in the halls of power. It's questionable whether any of the bands or songs on Albanese's list could be said to have a coherent "Australian" sound, yet they have come to hold a place in the national imagination. Triple J's Hottest 100 of All Time in 2009 was seen as a surprising recapitulation of the (male) rock canon, especially given the station's otherwise diverse playlists. However, the highest-placed Australian song on the list was The Nosebleed Section by Hilltop Hoods, representing the recent and rapid rise of Aussie hip-hop. The 2011 Hottest 100 Australian Albums of All Time (the closest forerunner to the current poll) further updated the canon, with Powderfinger's Odyssey Number Five (2000) in the top spot, and other top ten entries by electronic groups The Presets and The Avalanches. Nonetheless, the canon remained male dominated, with the highest woman-fronted album being Missy Higgins's The Sound of White (2004) at number 29. The past decade has seen a boom in Indigenous representation on Australian airwaves and stages, with artists such as Thelma Plum, Barkaa, A.B. Original and Baker Boy. These artists use a range of genres and styles to express pride in their Indigeneity, and critique Australian identity. A.B. Original's song January 26 was number 17 in 2016's Hottest 100 countdown. This was also the last year Triple J chose this date for its annual broadcast, speaking to the power of music to reflect - and even inform - popular sentiment. Given recent national debates, a strong contender for the upcoming poll is Treaty (Radio Mix) by Yothu Yindi (which ranked number 11 of all time in 1991). These shifts show how canons can be unsettled over time. Recently, Creative Australia came under fire for trying to stifle Khaled Sabsabi's politically-informed art in the interests of "social cohesion". But others pointed out art provides crucial space for challenging prevailing ideas, and that social cohesion in a democracy is not about reaching complete agreement, but being able to handle disagreement. A Hottest 100 that reflects the diversity and even the tensions in Australian society may provoke arguments, but it is in these spaces that we can reflect on what it means to live on these lands. On July 26, Triple J will broadcast the Hottest 100 Australian Songs, as voted by the public. While predictions for winners and even preemptive complaining about the shortlist are taking up column space and social media posts, there is an underlying question: what we mean when we talk about "Australian songs"? Do these songs sound a particular way? Do they express something about what it means to be Australian? Or is it purely about where the artist was born? Importantly, how will each of these factors influence voting? Musical cultures with their own unique sounds have existed on this continent for tens of thousands of years. The sound of the didgeridoo is often used as a shorthand to signify Australianness in films, television and, to a lesser extent, popular songs. However, the history of dispossession and genocidal practices that have accompanied settlement in Australia means much has been lost from these musical traditions. Indigenous performers have been actively excluded from the same music-making spaces where other songs we think of as "Australian" have been created. Since British colonisation in the late 18th century, Australian music has also been part of global music flows. Settlers arrived with songs and musical influences from their own cultures. Jazz, country, rock and pop inspired local versions of these genres. But is there anything truly Australian about such music, or is it just imitation? And this conundrum connects to wider issues of Australia's identity debated during the 20th century: was it a country, or still just a colony? Back in the 1970s, this question was also on then prime minister Gough Whitlams's mind. After his election in 1972, Whitlam gave a huge boost to funding for cultural and creative activities to "help establish and express an Australian identity through the arts", as part of a suite of nation-building activities. The dirty guitar sounds of the pub rock scene of the 1970s, with its associated subcultures, are sometimes said to be Australia's first distinct offering in post-rock 'n' roll music. This was followed by the rise of bands such as Midnight Oil and Cold Chisel, who found success not just by drawing on more local sounds, but also by referencing Australian places, politics and cultures. The Whitlam government's broadcasting reforms meant this music had homes on community radio and the new youth station 2JJ (now Triple J). The bands from this era have come to make up what might be described as the Oz rock canon - a collection of works seen to make up the "best" of the art form. Canons exert a strong influence over how we assess music, meaning these bands will probably appear in tomorrow's countdown. This idea of the rock canon is almost perfectly reflected in the ten entries by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese to tomorrow's countdown. His selection of almost 100% white male musicians encapsulates the exclusionary nature rock of this period. The fact that our last two prime ministers, despite being from opposite sides of politics, produced very similar lists, gives us insight into the persistence of this canon, and what ideas about "Australian culture" circulate in the halls of power. It's questionable whether any of the bands or songs on Albanese's list could be said to have a coherent "Australian" sound, yet they have come to hold a place in the national imagination. Triple J's Hottest 100 of All Time in 2009 was seen as a surprising recapitulation of the (male) rock canon, especially given the station's otherwise diverse playlists. However, the highest-placed Australian song on the list was The Nosebleed Section by Hilltop Hoods, representing the recent and rapid rise of Aussie hip-hop. The 2011 Hottest 100 Australian Albums of All Time (the closest forerunner to the current poll) further updated the canon, with Powderfinger's Odyssey Number Five (2000) in the top spot, and other top ten entries by electronic groups The Presets and The Avalanches. Nonetheless, the canon remained male dominated, with the highest woman-fronted album being Missy Higgins's The Sound of White (2004) at number 29. The past decade has seen a boom in Indigenous representation on Australian airwaves and stages, with artists such as Thelma Plum, Barkaa, A.B. Original and Baker Boy. These artists use a range of genres and styles to express pride in their Indigeneity, and critique Australian identity. A.B. Original's song January 26 was number 17 in 2016's Hottest 100 countdown. This was also the last year Triple J chose this date for its annual broadcast, speaking to the power of music to reflect - and even inform - popular sentiment. Given recent national debates, a strong contender for the upcoming poll is Treaty (Radio Mix) by Yothu Yindi (which ranked number 11 of all time in 1991). These shifts show how canons can be unsettled over time. Recently, Creative Australia came under fire for trying to stifle Khaled Sabsabi's politically-informed art in the interests of "social cohesion". But others pointed out art provides crucial space for challenging prevailing ideas, and that social cohesion in a democracy is not about reaching complete agreement, but being able to handle disagreement. A Hottest 100 that reflects the diversity and even the tensions in Australian society may provoke arguments, but it is in these spaces that we can reflect on what it means to live on these lands. On July 26, Triple J will broadcast the Hottest 100 Australian Songs, as voted by the public. While predictions for winners and even preemptive complaining about the shortlist are taking up column space and social media posts, there is an underlying question: what we mean when we talk about "Australian songs"? Do these songs sound a particular way? Do they express something about what it means to be Australian? Or is it purely about where the artist was born? Importantly, how will each of these factors influence voting? Musical cultures with their own unique sounds have existed on this continent for tens of thousands of years. The sound of the didgeridoo is often used as a shorthand to signify Australianness in films, television and, to a lesser extent, popular songs. However, the history of dispossession and genocidal practices that have accompanied settlement in Australia means much has been lost from these musical traditions. Indigenous performers have been actively excluded from the same music-making spaces where other songs we think of as "Australian" have been created. Since British colonisation in the late 18th century, Australian music has also been part of global music flows. Settlers arrived with songs and musical influences from their own cultures. Jazz, country, rock and pop inspired local versions of these genres. But is there anything truly Australian about such music, or is it just imitation? And this conundrum connects to wider issues of Australia's identity debated during the 20th century: was it a country, or still just a colony? Back in the 1970s, this question was also on then prime minister Gough Whitlams's mind. After his election in 1972, Whitlam gave a huge boost to funding for cultural and creative activities to "help establish and express an Australian identity through the arts", as part of a suite of nation-building activities. The dirty guitar sounds of the pub rock scene of the 1970s, with its associated subcultures, are sometimes said to be Australia's first distinct offering in post-rock 'n' roll music. This was followed by the rise of bands such as Midnight Oil and Cold Chisel, who found success not just by drawing on more local sounds, but also by referencing Australian places, politics and cultures. The Whitlam government's broadcasting reforms meant this music had homes on community radio and the new youth station 2JJ (now Triple J). The bands from this era have come to make up what might be described as the Oz rock canon - a collection of works seen to make up the "best" of the art form. Canons exert a strong influence over how we assess music, meaning these bands will probably appear in tomorrow's countdown. This idea of the rock canon is almost perfectly reflected in the ten entries by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese to tomorrow's countdown. His selection of almost 100% white male musicians encapsulates the exclusionary nature rock of this period. The fact that our last two prime ministers, despite being from opposite sides of politics, produced very similar lists, gives us insight into the persistence of this canon, and what ideas about "Australian culture" circulate in the halls of power. It's questionable whether any of the bands or songs on Albanese's list could be said to have a coherent "Australian" sound, yet they have come to hold a place in the national imagination. Triple J's Hottest 100 of All Time in 2009 was seen as a surprising recapitulation of the (male) rock canon, especially given the station's otherwise diverse playlists. However, the highest-placed Australian song on the list was The Nosebleed Section by Hilltop Hoods, representing the recent and rapid rise of Aussie hip-hop. The 2011 Hottest 100 Australian Albums of All Time (the closest forerunner to the current poll) further updated the canon, with Powderfinger's Odyssey Number Five (2000) in the top spot, and other top ten entries by electronic groups The Presets and The Avalanches. Nonetheless, the canon remained male dominated, with the highest woman-fronted album being Missy Higgins's The Sound of White (2004) at number 29. The past decade has seen a boom in Indigenous representation on Australian airwaves and stages, with artists such as Thelma Plum, Barkaa, A.B. Original and Baker Boy. These artists use a range of genres and styles to express pride in their Indigeneity, and critique Australian identity. A.B. Original's song January 26 was number 17 in 2016's Hottest 100 countdown. This was also the last year Triple J chose this date for its annual broadcast, speaking to the power of music to reflect - and even inform - popular sentiment. Given recent national debates, a strong contender for the upcoming poll is Treaty (Radio Mix) by Yothu Yindi (which ranked number 11 of all time in 1991). These shifts show how canons can be unsettled over time. Recently, Creative Australia came under fire for trying to stifle Khaled Sabsabi's politically-informed art in the interests of "social cohesion". But others pointed out art provides crucial space for challenging prevailing ideas, and that social cohesion in a democracy is not about reaching complete agreement, but being able to handle disagreement. A Hottest 100 that reflects the diversity and even the tensions in Australian society may provoke arguments, but it is in these spaces that we can reflect on what it means to live on these lands. On July 26, Triple J will broadcast the Hottest 100 Australian Songs, as voted by the public. While predictions for winners and even preemptive complaining about the shortlist are taking up column space and social media posts, there is an underlying question: what we mean when we talk about "Australian songs"? Do these songs sound a particular way? Do they express something about what it means to be Australian? Or is it purely about where the artist was born? Importantly, how will each of these factors influence voting? Musical cultures with their own unique sounds have existed on this continent for tens of thousands of years. The sound of the didgeridoo is often used as a shorthand to signify Australianness in films, television and, to a lesser extent, popular songs. However, the history of dispossession and genocidal practices that have accompanied settlement in Australia means much has been lost from these musical traditions. Indigenous performers have been actively excluded from the same music-making spaces where other songs we think of as "Australian" have been created. Since British colonisation in the late 18th century, Australian music has also been part of global music flows. Settlers arrived with songs and musical influences from their own cultures. Jazz, country, rock and pop inspired local versions of these genres. But is there anything truly Australian about such music, or is it just imitation? And this conundrum connects to wider issues of Australia's identity debated during the 20th century: was it a country, or still just a colony? Back in the 1970s, this question was also on then prime minister Gough Whitlams's mind. After his election in 1972, Whitlam gave a huge boost to funding for cultural and creative activities to "help establish and express an Australian identity through the arts", as part of a suite of nation-building activities. The dirty guitar sounds of the pub rock scene of the 1970s, with its associated subcultures, are sometimes said to be Australia's first distinct offering in post-rock 'n' roll music. This was followed by the rise of bands such as Midnight Oil and Cold Chisel, who found success not just by drawing on more local sounds, but also by referencing Australian places, politics and cultures. The Whitlam government's broadcasting reforms meant this music had homes on community radio and the new youth station 2JJ (now Triple J). The bands from this era have come to make up what might be described as the Oz rock canon - a collection of works seen to make up the "best" of the art form. Canons exert a strong influence over how we assess music, meaning these bands will probably appear in tomorrow's countdown. This idea of the rock canon is almost perfectly reflected in the ten entries by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese to tomorrow's countdown. His selection of almost 100% white male musicians encapsulates the exclusionary nature rock of this period. The fact that our last two prime ministers, despite being from opposite sides of politics, produced very similar lists, gives us insight into the persistence of this canon, and what ideas about "Australian culture" circulate in the halls of power. It's questionable whether any of the bands or songs on Albanese's list could be said to have a coherent "Australian" sound, yet they have come to hold a place in the national imagination. Triple J's Hottest 100 of All Time in 2009 was seen as a surprising recapitulation of the (male) rock canon, especially given the station's otherwise diverse playlists. However, the highest-placed Australian song on the list was The Nosebleed Section by Hilltop Hoods, representing the recent and rapid rise of Aussie hip-hop. The 2011 Hottest 100 Australian Albums of All Time (the closest forerunner to the current poll) further updated the canon, with Powderfinger's Odyssey Number Five (2000) in the top spot, and other top ten entries by electronic groups The Presets and The Avalanches. Nonetheless, the canon remained male dominated, with the highest woman-fronted album being Missy Higgins's The Sound of White (2004) at number 29. The past decade has seen a boom in Indigenous representation on Australian airwaves and stages, with artists such as Thelma Plum, Barkaa, A.B. Original and Baker Boy. These artists use a range of genres and styles to express pride in their Indigeneity, and critique Australian identity. A.B. Original's song January 26 was number 17 in 2016's Hottest 100 countdown. This was also the last year Triple J chose this date for its annual broadcast, speaking to the power of music to reflect - and even inform - popular sentiment. Given recent national debates, a strong contender for the upcoming poll is Treaty (Radio Mix) by Yothu Yindi (which ranked number 11 of all time in 1991). These shifts show how canons can be unsettled over time. Recently, Creative Australia came under fire for trying to stifle Khaled Sabsabi's politically-informed art in the interests of "social cohesion". But others pointed out art provides crucial space for challenging prevailing ideas, and that social cohesion in a democracy is not about reaching complete agreement, but being able to handle disagreement. A Hottest 100 that reflects the diversity and even the tensions in Australian society may provoke arguments, but it is in these spaces that we can reflect on what it means to live on these lands.
The Advertiser
23-07-2025
- Politics
- The Advertiser
Beware of franchising the Snapchat generation
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to At 16, I knew everything. About history, politics, music, cars, motorbikes, life in general. Adulthood and its attendant right to drive, vote, and stay out late couldn't come fast enough for someone so confident in their own knowledge about the world around them. It finally arrived, legally at least, when I turned 18, just four years after the voting age was lowered in the first substantive legislative change enacted by the Whitlam government. And it was when adulthood arrived - and the law required me to vote in the 1977 federal election - that I realised I actually knew very little. About history, politics, music, cars, etc. The simple certainty of youthful me has been eroded ever since. The acquisition of knowledge is like that - the more you know, the more you realise you don't know. Which is why I'm ambivalent about the UK's decision to lower the voting age to 16. I can see both sides of the argument. Sixteen-year-olds can work and pay taxes. And it's their futures that will be affected by government policies. They can already vote for local representatives in Scotland and Wales, but not in England and Northern Ireland. On the other hand, as pointed out by the Tories who oppose the move, they can't drive, buy alcohol, marry or go to war. Nor can they stand as candidates. The law is likely to pass because of Labour's commanding majority, which will no doubt fuel calls for Australia to follow suit. But before we jump on the bandwagon, we should take note of one key difference. In the UK, 16-year-olds will not be compelled to vote. Here, it would be compulsory. In principle, fine. But in reality, a likely very different story. Earlier this year, national curriculum testing revealed knowledge of civics among young Australians was at its lowest level on record. A worrying percentage of Year 10 students struggled with basic concepts such as the three levels of government and the difference between a referendum and a general election. Add to that the large number of voters casting informal ballots at the last election. Gough Whitlam's old seat of Werriwa recorded the highest number of informal votes out of all electorates. We can assume some of those informal votes were intentional, but the vast majority would have been cast in error, meaning more than 17 per cent of voters in the seat denied themselves their democratic right. These were adults. Would tipping younger teenagers into the mix make matters worse? Probably not if civics were drummed into them as it was in the dark ages of my teen years. It might have been dry as dust, but rote learning about Parliament, the three different levels of government and the courts served us as well as mastering the times tables. Of course, back then there was no internet and no social media platforms roiling with disinformation and toxic ideology. There was a manosphere, but it was out in the open, expressed by "rock apes" as they were known, doing Friday night laps of Canberra's Civic centre in hotted-up EH Holdens. If the federal government can come up with an effective under-16 ban on social media, I'll be more comfortable with lowering the voting age. But until that happens, we're safer with the status quo. HAVE YOUR SAY: Should 16-year-olds be given the vote? If so, should such a move be delayed until the under-16 social media ban comes into force? Should we be concerned about the large number of informal votes at this year's election? Do we need more compulsory civics education? Email us: echidna@ SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too. IN CASE YOU MISSED IT: - The Reserve Bank of Australia was blindsided by a surprise jump in unemployment, a read-out of its shock rate-hold meeting has revealed. - Accused pedophile Joshua Dale Brown won't face court again until next year, after a magistrate gave police more time to gather evidence against him. - Australia has decried Israel's "drip feeding of aid and inhumane killing" of civilians in Gaza as pro-Palestine protesters rally in the nation's capital on the first day of Parliament. THEY SAID IT: "Democracy cannot succeed unless those who express their choice are prepared to choose wisely. The real safeguard of democracy, therefore, is education." - Franklin D. Roosevelt YOU SAID IT: As the cheating CEO and his HR executive have learned, it's foolish to misbehave in public with so many cameras about. Paddy remembers how his late father, a linesman working in Woolloomooloo, was caught after availing himself of a keg that had rolled off a brewery truck: "After a while, a crowd of wharfies, dogmen, sailors and passers-by assembled and started to help drink the keg. Believe it or not, they managed to have what would be called a block party today without Twitter or Instagram. A passing reporter snapped several photos of the afternoon's events and whisked them off to the Daily Telegraph." Paddy's dad was upbraided the next day by his boss. "His boss was furious. He ranted and raved at Dad. After about five minutes, he pointed to a phone box in the background of the photo and asked 'Don, why didn't you ring me? I could have used a beer yesterday!'" "About 20 years ago, there was an incident at the Oz Open tennis in Melbourne on Channel 7, which took the cake," writes Bill. The TV director was bored and had his cameras scanning the punters in the far top seats. Suddenly, there was a quick pan back. Yep - there was a young couple having sex on the top rung. The commentators saw it, made mention, and returned to the contest on the court." Lee writes: "I think the only camera that has 'caught' me is a speed camera sending me a fine for doing 55 in a 50 zone. I do feel very sorry for the families involved. They most likely didn't have a clue, and now the whole world knows. How horrible for them. They must be hurting badly." "People talk about poor judgment - but no one is talking about how wrong it is, in my view, to be publicly outed without consent," writes Mike. "That screen didn't just show faces; it blew up lives. He has two children and she has one child." Sue writes: "Everything is caught on camera, but even people who film everything they can seem to think that they are immune to being caught on camera themselves - until they are, and then they complain about a lack of privacy! Go figure!" This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to At 16, I knew everything. About history, politics, music, cars, motorbikes, life in general. Adulthood and its attendant right to drive, vote, and stay out late couldn't come fast enough for someone so confident in their own knowledge about the world around them. It finally arrived, legally at least, when I turned 18, just four years after the voting age was lowered in the first substantive legislative change enacted by the Whitlam government. And it was when adulthood arrived - and the law required me to vote in the 1977 federal election - that I realised I actually knew very little. About history, politics, music, cars, etc. The simple certainty of youthful me has been eroded ever since. The acquisition of knowledge is like that - the more you know, the more you realise you don't know. Which is why I'm ambivalent about the UK's decision to lower the voting age to 16. I can see both sides of the argument. Sixteen-year-olds can work and pay taxes. And it's their futures that will be affected by government policies. They can already vote for local representatives in Scotland and Wales, but not in England and Northern Ireland. On the other hand, as pointed out by the Tories who oppose the move, they can't drive, buy alcohol, marry or go to war. Nor can they stand as candidates. The law is likely to pass because of Labour's commanding majority, which will no doubt fuel calls for Australia to follow suit. But before we jump on the bandwagon, we should take note of one key difference. In the UK, 16-year-olds will not be compelled to vote. Here, it would be compulsory. In principle, fine. But in reality, a likely very different story. Earlier this year, national curriculum testing revealed knowledge of civics among young Australians was at its lowest level on record. A worrying percentage of Year 10 students struggled with basic concepts such as the three levels of government and the difference between a referendum and a general election. Add to that the large number of voters casting informal ballots at the last election. Gough Whitlam's old seat of Werriwa recorded the highest number of informal votes out of all electorates. We can assume some of those informal votes were intentional, but the vast majority would have been cast in error, meaning more than 17 per cent of voters in the seat denied themselves their democratic right. These were adults. Would tipping younger teenagers into the mix make matters worse? Probably not if civics were drummed into them as it was in the dark ages of my teen years. It might have been dry as dust, but rote learning about Parliament, the three different levels of government and the courts served us as well as mastering the times tables. Of course, back then there was no internet and no social media platforms roiling with disinformation and toxic ideology. There was a manosphere, but it was out in the open, expressed by "rock apes" as they were known, doing Friday night laps of Canberra's Civic centre in hotted-up EH Holdens. If the federal government can come up with an effective under-16 ban on social media, I'll be more comfortable with lowering the voting age. But until that happens, we're safer with the status quo. HAVE YOUR SAY: Should 16-year-olds be given the vote? If so, should such a move be delayed until the under-16 social media ban comes into force? Should we be concerned about the large number of informal votes at this year's election? Do we need more compulsory civics education? Email us: echidna@ SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too. IN CASE YOU MISSED IT: - The Reserve Bank of Australia was blindsided by a surprise jump in unemployment, a read-out of its shock rate-hold meeting has revealed. - Accused pedophile Joshua Dale Brown won't face court again until next year, after a magistrate gave police more time to gather evidence against him. - Australia has decried Israel's "drip feeding of aid and inhumane killing" of civilians in Gaza as pro-Palestine protesters rally in the nation's capital on the first day of Parliament. THEY SAID IT: "Democracy cannot succeed unless those who express their choice are prepared to choose wisely. The real safeguard of democracy, therefore, is education." - Franklin D. Roosevelt YOU SAID IT: As the cheating CEO and his HR executive have learned, it's foolish to misbehave in public with so many cameras about. Paddy remembers how his late father, a linesman working in Woolloomooloo, was caught after availing himself of a keg that had rolled off a brewery truck: "After a while, a crowd of wharfies, dogmen, sailors and passers-by assembled and started to help drink the keg. Believe it or not, they managed to have what would be called a block party today without Twitter or Instagram. A passing reporter snapped several photos of the afternoon's events and whisked them off to the Daily Telegraph." Paddy's dad was upbraided the next day by his boss. "His boss was furious. He ranted and raved at Dad. After about five minutes, he pointed to a phone box in the background of the photo and asked 'Don, why didn't you ring me? I could have used a beer yesterday!'" "About 20 years ago, there was an incident at the Oz Open tennis in Melbourne on Channel 7, which took the cake," writes Bill. The TV director was bored and had his cameras scanning the punters in the far top seats. Suddenly, there was a quick pan back. Yep - there was a young couple having sex on the top rung. The commentators saw it, made mention, and returned to the contest on the court." Lee writes: "I think the only camera that has 'caught' me is a speed camera sending me a fine for doing 55 in a 50 zone. I do feel very sorry for the families involved. They most likely didn't have a clue, and now the whole world knows. How horrible for them. They must be hurting badly." "People talk about poor judgment - but no one is talking about how wrong it is, in my view, to be publicly outed without consent," writes Mike. "That screen didn't just show faces; it blew up lives. He has two children and she has one child." Sue writes: "Everything is caught on camera, but even people who film everything they can seem to think that they are immune to being caught on camera themselves - until they are, and then they complain about a lack of privacy! Go figure!" This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to At 16, I knew everything. About history, politics, music, cars, motorbikes, life in general. Adulthood and its attendant right to drive, vote, and stay out late couldn't come fast enough for someone so confident in their own knowledge about the world around them. It finally arrived, legally at least, when I turned 18, just four years after the voting age was lowered in the first substantive legislative change enacted by the Whitlam government. And it was when adulthood arrived - and the law required me to vote in the 1977 federal election - that I realised I actually knew very little. About history, politics, music, cars, etc. The simple certainty of youthful me has been eroded ever since. The acquisition of knowledge is like that - the more you know, the more you realise you don't know. Which is why I'm ambivalent about the UK's decision to lower the voting age to 16. I can see both sides of the argument. Sixteen-year-olds can work and pay taxes. And it's their futures that will be affected by government policies. They can already vote for local representatives in Scotland and Wales, but not in England and Northern Ireland. On the other hand, as pointed out by the Tories who oppose the move, they can't drive, buy alcohol, marry or go to war. Nor can they stand as candidates. The law is likely to pass because of Labour's commanding majority, which will no doubt fuel calls for Australia to follow suit. But before we jump on the bandwagon, we should take note of one key difference. In the UK, 16-year-olds will not be compelled to vote. Here, it would be compulsory. In principle, fine. But in reality, a likely very different story. Earlier this year, national curriculum testing revealed knowledge of civics among young Australians was at its lowest level on record. A worrying percentage of Year 10 students struggled with basic concepts such as the three levels of government and the difference between a referendum and a general election. Add to that the large number of voters casting informal ballots at the last election. Gough Whitlam's old seat of Werriwa recorded the highest number of informal votes out of all electorates. We can assume some of those informal votes were intentional, but the vast majority would have been cast in error, meaning more than 17 per cent of voters in the seat denied themselves their democratic right. These were adults. Would tipping younger teenagers into the mix make matters worse? Probably not if civics were drummed into them as it was in the dark ages of my teen years. It might have been dry as dust, but rote learning about Parliament, the three different levels of government and the courts served us as well as mastering the times tables. Of course, back then there was no internet and no social media platforms roiling with disinformation and toxic ideology. There was a manosphere, but it was out in the open, expressed by "rock apes" as they were known, doing Friday night laps of Canberra's Civic centre in hotted-up EH Holdens. If the federal government can come up with an effective under-16 ban on social media, I'll be more comfortable with lowering the voting age. But until that happens, we're safer with the status quo. HAVE YOUR SAY: Should 16-year-olds be given the vote? If so, should such a move be delayed until the under-16 social media ban comes into force? Should we be concerned about the large number of informal votes at this year's election? Do we need more compulsory civics education? Email us: echidna@ SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too. IN CASE YOU MISSED IT: - The Reserve Bank of Australia was blindsided by a surprise jump in unemployment, a read-out of its shock rate-hold meeting has revealed. - Accused pedophile Joshua Dale Brown won't face court again until next year, after a magistrate gave police more time to gather evidence against him. - Australia has decried Israel's "drip feeding of aid and inhumane killing" of civilians in Gaza as pro-Palestine protesters rally in the nation's capital on the first day of Parliament. THEY SAID IT: "Democracy cannot succeed unless those who express their choice are prepared to choose wisely. The real safeguard of democracy, therefore, is education." - Franklin D. Roosevelt YOU SAID IT: As the cheating CEO and his HR executive have learned, it's foolish to misbehave in public with so many cameras about. Paddy remembers how his late father, a linesman working in Woolloomooloo, was caught after availing himself of a keg that had rolled off a brewery truck: "After a while, a crowd of wharfies, dogmen, sailors and passers-by assembled and started to help drink the keg. Believe it or not, they managed to have what would be called a block party today without Twitter or Instagram. A passing reporter snapped several photos of the afternoon's events and whisked them off to the Daily Telegraph." Paddy's dad was upbraided the next day by his boss. "His boss was furious. He ranted and raved at Dad. After about five minutes, he pointed to a phone box in the background of the photo and asked 'Don, why didn't you ring me? I could have used a beer yesterday!'" "About 20 years ago, there was an incident at the Oz Open tennis in Melbourne on Channel 7, which took the cake," writes Bill. The TV director was bored and had his cameras scanning the punters in the far top seats. Suddenly, there was a quick pan back. Yep - there was a young couple having sex on the top rung. The commentators saw it, made mention, and returned to the contest on the court." Lee writes: "I think the only camera that has 'caught' me is a speed camera sending me a fine for doing 55 in a 50 zone. I do feel very sorry for the families involved. They most likely didn't have a clue, and now the whole world knows. How horrible for them. They must be hurting badly." "People talk about poor judgment - but no one is talking about how wrong it is, in my view, to be publicly outed without consent," writes Mike. "That screen didn't just show faces; it blew up lives. He has two children and she has one child." Sue writes: "Everything is caught on camera, but even people who film everything they can seem to think that they are immune to being caught on camera themselves - until they are, and then they complain about a lack of privacy! Go figure!" This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to At 16, I knew everything. About history, politics, music, cars, motorbikes, life in general. Adulthood and its attendant right to drive, vote, and stay out late couldn't come fast enough for someone so confident in their own knowledge about the world around them. It finally arrived, legally at least, when I turned 18, just four years after the voting age was lowered in the first substantive legislative change enacted by the Whitlam government. And it was when adulthood arrived - and the law required me to vote in the 1977 federal election - that I realised I actually knew very little. About history, politics, music, cars, etc. The simple certainty of youthful me has been eroded ever since. The acquisition of knowledge is like that - the more you know, the more you realise you don't know. Which is why I'm ambivalent about the UK's decision to lower the voting age to 16. I can see both sides of the argument. Sixteen-year-olds can work and pay taxes. And it's their futures that will be affected by government policies. They can already vote for local representatives in Scotland and Wales, but not in England and Northern Ireland. On the other hand, as pointed out by the Tories who oppose the move, they can't drive, buy alcohol, marry or go to war. Nor can they stand as candidates. The law is likely to pass because of Labour's commanding majority, which will no doubt fuel calls for Australia to follow suit. But before we jump on the bandwagon, we should take note of one key difference. In the UK, 16-year-olds will not be compelled to vote. Here, it would be compulsory. In principle, fine. But in reality, a likely very different story. Earlier this year, national curriculum testing revealed knowledge of civics among young Australians was at its lowest level on record. A worrying percentage of Year 10 students struggled with basic concepts such as the three levels of government and the difference between a referendum and a general election. Add to that the large number of voters casting informal ballots at the last election. Gough Whitlam's old seat of Werriwa recorded the highest number of informal votes out of all electorates. We can assume some of those informal votes were intentional, but the vast majority would have been cast in error, meaning more than 17 per cent of voters in the seat denied themselves their democratic right. These were adults. Would tipping younger teenagers into the mix make matters worse? Probably not if civics were drummed into them as it was in the dark ages of my teen years. It might have been dry as dust, but rote learning about Parliament, the three different levels of government and the courts served us as well as mastering the times tables. Of course, back then there was no internet and no social media platforms roiling with disinformation and toxic ideology. There was a manosphere, but it was out in the open, expressed by "rock apes" as they were known, doing Friday night laps of Canberra's Civic centre in hotted-up EH Holdens. If the federal government can come up with an effective under-16 ban on social media, I'll be more comfortable with lowering the voting age. But until that happens, we're safer with the status quo. HAVE YOUR SAY: Should 16-year-olds be given the vote? If so, should such a move be delayed until the under-16 social media ban comes into force? Should we be concerned about the large number of informal votes at this year's election? Do we need more compulsory civics education? Email us: echidna@ SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too. IN CASE YOU MISSED IT: - The Reserve Bank of Australia was blindsided by a surprise jump in unemployment, a read-out of its shock rate-hold meeting has revealed. - Accused pedophile Joshua Dale Brown won't face court again until next year, after a magistrate gave police more time to gather evidence against him. - Australia has decried Israel's "drip feeding of aid and inhumane killing" of civilians in Gaza as pro-Palestine protesters rally in the nation's capital on the first day of Parliament. THEY SAID IT: "Democracy cannot succeed unless those who express their choice are prepared to choose wisely. The real safeguard of democracy, therefore, is education." - Franklin D. Roosevelt YOU SAID IT: As the cheating CEO and his HR executive have learned, it's foolish to misbehave in public with so many cameras about. Paddy remembers how his late father, a linesman working in Woolloomooloo, was caught after availing himself of a keg that had rolled off a brewery truck: "After a while, a crowd of wharfies, dogmen, sailors and passers-by assembled and started to help drink the keg. Believe it or not, they managed to have what would be called a block party today without Twitter or Instagram. A passing reporter snapped several photos of the afternoon's events and whisked them off to the Daily Telegraph." Paddy's dad was upbraided the next day by his boss. "His boss was furious. He ranted and raved at Dad. After about five minutes, he pointed to a phone box in the background of the photo and asked 'Don, why didn't you ring me? I could have used a beer yesterday!'" "About 20 years ago, there was an incident at the Oz Open tennis in Melbourne on Channel 7, which took the cake," writes Bill. The TV director was bored and had his cameras scanning the punters in the far top seats. Suddenly, there was a quick pan back. Yep - there was a young couple having sex on the top rung. The commentators saw it, made mention, and returned to the contest on the court." Lee writes: "I think the only camera that has 'caught' me is a speed camera sending me a fine for doing 55 in a 50 zone. I do feel very sorry for the families involved. They most likely didn't have a clue, and now the whole world knows. How horrible for them. They must be hurting badly." "People talk about poor judgment - but no one is talking about how wrong it is, in my view, to be publicly outed without consent," writes Mike. "That screen didn't just show faces; it blew up lives. He has two children and she has one child." Sue writes: "Everything is caught on camera, but even people who film everything they can seem to think that they are immune to being caught on camera themselves - until they are, and then they complain about a lack of privacy! Go figure!"
The Guardian
22-07-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Labor MP Ali France thanks late son in first speech to parliament after unseating Peter Dutton
Newly minted Labor MP Ali France, who unexpectedly unseated former opposition leader Peter Dutton in the May election, has detailed her 'epic journey' to Canberra in a poignant first speech. France who battled Dutton over seven years for the seat of Dickson, north of Brisbane, was the first of Labor's fresh faces to introduce themselves to the 48th parliament on Tuesday. The former journalist and Paralympian became the first person in Australian history to defeat a sitting opposition leader in a federal election on her third try in May, beating the long-serving Liberal leader 56% to 44% on a two-party preferred basis. On Tuesday evening, France told her lower house peers of the influence her father and grandparents had on instilling Labor values in her from an early age. 'Fighting for fair is in my blood,' France said. 'Whitlam's Medibank, ending conscription, and offering free university, changed everything for my grandparents and their boys and, in turn, for me.' France spoke of the loss of her son, Henry, in 2024 after an 18-month battle with leukaemia. 'Behind the curtain' of the 2025 campaign, the Dickson MP said, 'I was grieving and desperately wanting to hold my son'. 'He told me many times, that this election was my time,' she said. 'He was convinced I would win and said a number of times, 'Don't make me the excuse for you not doing important things'. 'His words, his courage, were with me every day of the campaign. Henry was instrumental in getting me to this place.' In 2011, France was with her youngest son, Zac, then four years old, when a driver lost control of his car and pinned her against another car. Zac was pushed out of the way, France said, but the accident resulted in her leg being amputated. 'The ground shifted, everything was hard to navigate, and I was pitied. But I survived and so did my baby Zac,' she said. 'Everyone in my life remembers the day I was supposed to die.' France warmly thanked the surgeons who saved her life and helped her to walk again, who both watched from the gallery: Prof Martin Wullschleger and orthopaedic surgeon Dr Munjed al Muderis, a refugee surgeon from Iraq. Next up was another of Labor's new MPs, Sarah Witty. In May, she claimed the seat of Melbourne in an election upset that left the federal Greens without their long-serving leader, Adam Bandt. Witty spoke about her and her husband's difficult and painful journey to become parents through the foster care system. 'I stepped into the world of foster care, not out of ease, but out of a deep need to turn my pain into something positive,' Witty said, after fighting back tears. Her experiences would influence her time in parliament, she said, vowing to always ask what any child needs to 'grow up to be the best person they can be'. Housing availability and affordability was also front of mind for the new MP, with Witty saying: 'housing is not a luxury. It's a human right'. 'I bring with me the voices of renters demanding justice, of people demanding climate action, of communities demanding to be heard, not managed,' Witty said. 'We are building something bigger than one person. We are building a future where no one is forgotten and everyone belongs. That is the future I will fight for.' France and Witty were followed by Braddon MP Anne Urquhart, Griffith MP Renee Coffee, and Menzies MP Gabriel Ng, who spoke of the galvanising impact Pauline's Hanson's first, notorious speech to parliament – in 1996 – had on his own political journey. 'We have one of the most powerful platforms in the nation, and I urge all of us in this parliament to turn away from opportunistic division and embrace and tell the story of modern Australia as it is,' Ng said. Other first-term MPs will deliver addresses in coming days.
Sydney Morning Herald
17-07-2025
- Politics
- Sydney Morning Herald
Like a cockroach that can't be killed, Mark Latham has crawled around public life for too long. He must go
Gough Whitlam commands a legacy the scale of which few prime ministers have matched. In three short years, his government extricated Australia from the Vietnam War and abolished conscription, recognised China, established Medibank and Australia Post, did away with the death penalty for Commonwealth offences, and replaced God Save the Queen with Advance Australia Fair. Regrettably, Australia is stuck with one of Whitlam's less desirable achievements: Mark Latham. Few did more to build Latham up as a potential prime minister than Whitlam, and it is still remarkable that he and other Labor types saw fit to think this toxic political figure could lead our country. In fairness to the then caucus, Latham's behaviour has deteriorated with time. But there were plenty of early warning signs when, in December 2003, Labor MPs voted 47-45 to replace Simon Crean with the fiercely bright but deeply flawed then member for Werriwa. As the Herald 's Deborah Snow and Damien Murphy reported at the time, many around Latham knew he was an erratic loner fundamentally unsuited to the role his party had entrusted him with. Voters saw through the charade and thoroughly rejected him at that year's poll. But like a cockroach that can't be killed, Latham has crawled around public life ever since, surviving or succumbing to various scandals during stints at Sky News and The Australian Financial Review, and political flirtations with the Liberal Democrats and then One Nation. Each scandal had common threads, chief among them Latham's extreme nastiness, disrespect for women and sense of superiority over all others. It was on the platform of One Nation that Latham was elected to the NSW Legislative Council in 2019. Ever the opportunist, Latham quit ahead of the 2023 election so he could run again and secure a fresh term on Macquarie Street. Latham and Pauline Hanson's awkward match detonated later that year, and Latham is now an independent on the crossbench. That said, Latham has not always been alone in parliament: he's been repeatedly wined, dined and courted by Liberals who should have known better than to mix with this stain on public life. Because upper house MPs are given eight-year terms, Latham is entitled to stay in NSW Parliament until 2031. This would be a bad outcome even if Latham had been on his best behaviour. But given his deplorable conduct in parliament over recent years, NSW MPs may need to contemplate a difficult, complex change in the rules. Should Latham remain an elected representative? The Herald strongly believes he should not. In our view, Latham disqualified himself from office long before allegations this week by his former partner, Nathalie Matthews, of a 'sustained pattern' of abuse, including emotional, psychological and financial manipulation. An apprehended violence order application lodged by Matthews in the NSW Local Court claims Latham pressured her to have sex with other people and participate in depraved acts, and drove his car at her. The Daily Telegraph also revealed sordid WhatsApp messages Latham and Matthews exchanged while the MP was sitting in the parliamentary chamber. The Herald then reported that Latham's Parliament House office was allegedly used as the scene of 'sordid' sexual trysts captured on video. In the latest instalment, the Telegraph on Thursday reported that Latham allegedly took photos of female colleagues in the chamber without their knowledge and made disparaging comments about their appearances in text messages.
The Age
17-07-2025
- Politics
- The Age
Like a cockroach that can't be killed, Mark Latham has crawled around public life for too long. He must go
Gough Whitlam commands a legacy the scale of which few prime ministers have matched. In three short years, his government extricated Australia from the Vietnam War and abolished conscription, recognised China, established Medibank and Australia Post, did away with the death penalty for Commonwealth offences, and replaced God Save the Queen with Advance Australia Fair. Regrettably, Australia is stuck with one of Whitlam's less desirable achievements: Mark Latham. Few did more to build Latham up as a potential prime minister than Whitlam, and it is still remarkable that he and other Labor types saw fit to think this toxic political figure could lead our country. In fairness to the then caucus, Latham's behaviour has deteriorated with time. But there were plenty of early warning signs when, in December 2003, Labor MPs voted 47-45 to replace Simon Crean with the fiercely bright but deeply flawed then member for Werriwa. As the Herald 's Deborah Snow and Damien Murphy reported at the time, many around Latham knew he was an erratic loner fundamentally unsuited to the role his party had entrusted him with. Voters saw through the charade and thoroughly rejected him at that year's poll. But like a cockroach that can't be killed, Latham has crawled around public life ever since, surviving or succumbing to various scandals during stints at Sky News and The Australian Financial Review, and political flirtations with the Liberal Democrats and then One Nation. Each scandal had common threads, chief among them Latham's extreme nastiness, disrespect for women and sense of superiority over all others. It was on the platform of One Nation that Latham was elected to the NSW Legislative Council in 2019. Ever the opportunist, Latham quit ahead of the 2023 election so he could run again and secure a fresh term on Macquarie Street. Latham and Pauline Hanson's awkward match detonated later that year, and Latham is now an independent on the crossbench. That said, Latham has not always been alone in parliament: he's been repeatedly wined, dined and courted by Liberals who should have known better than to mix with this stain on public life. Because upper house MPs are given eight-year terms, Latham is entitled to stay in NSW Parliament until 2031. This would be a bad outcome even if Latham had been on his best behaviour. But given his deplorable conduct in parliament over recent years, NSW MPs may need to contemplate a difficult, complex change in the rules. Should Latham remain an elected representative? The Herald strongly believes he should not. In our view, Latham disqualified himself from office long before allegations this week by his former partner, Nathalie Matthews, of a 'sustained pattern' of abuse, including emotional, psychological and financial manipulation. An apprehended violence order application lodged by Matthews in the NSW Local Court claims Latham pressured her to have sex with other people and participate in depraved acts, and drove his car at her. The Daily Telegraph also revealed sordid WhatsApp messages Latham and Matthews exchanged while the MP was sitting in the parliamentary chamber. The Herald then reported that Latham's Parliament House office was allegedly used as the scene of 'sordid' sexual trysts captured on video. In the latest instalment, the Telegraph on Thursday reported that Latham allegedly took photos of female colleagues in the chamber without their knowledge and made disparaging comments about their appearances in text messages.
