In the last few days I’ve found myself agreeing with Stephen Conroy again – always an unsettling experience. This time it was over the Economist Intelligence Unit’s recent ranking of Government broadband policies. They are pretty biased towards free market solutions, and so a massive government intervention like the NBN is unlikely to get top marks. (3.4/5 ain’t that bad, really.)
I wrote about this for New Matilda which you can read here: Actually, We’re Not Paying More For Less
(My piece over at the ABC today.)
Before it came along, we were served by a revolving series of moral panics, changing censorship ministers and a patchwork of different state systems. Many books and films were banned that today would hardly warrant a mention – I wonder how many high schools would not allow “The Trial of Lady Chatterley” a place in their libraries? In the sordid history of censorship in Australia, the creation of a national system under the Hawke government in 1984 at least gave us something that was uniform and understandable, and led to a slight loosening of a system that was much more puritanical than the citizens it served.
Our classification code has done its duty for these last 30 years or so. As a reward, it deserves to be given a nice cup of hot chocolate, and wheeled outside to enjoy the sunshine of its retirement.
Nothing sets my bullshit detector off like an industry lobbyist talking about saving jobs. The harder the industry works to keep labor costs down by cutting pay and benefits, the louder they will yell about protecting workers when policy heads in a direction they don’t like. I sound off on this in a piece over at The Punch today:
There are a lot of tricks and short cuts taken in modern discourse, with its short attention span and abundance of professional spin doctors. In particular, when discussing policy there is a certain word which is often uttered as if it was magic spells that can silence one’s detractors…
Keep reading over at their site. Now, to get to work on a piece about the use of the word “security” by governments.
I also appeared on the 7PM Project again this week, where I am now a pretty regular contributor. This time I was talking about Vodafone’s privacy fiasco which was revealed last weekend. This appearance prompted an article at Delimiter entitled “Colin Jacobs, you bastion of common sense.” It’s nice to know somebody is watching and appreciates the work – thanks!
The Queensland floods, reinforced by memories of other extreme weather events in recent memory, have started people chattering about climate change. We are clearly at a point where the looming challenging it presents exists as a sort of background radiation to people’s thoughts, and something like this easily brings it to mind.
It’s also true that the majority of the country supports taking some sort of action, including putting a price on carbon. Although support has reportedly softened, surveys show it is still there. For those of us particularly concerned about climate change, this is promising – isn’t it?
I wonder. If the Australian people really took the issue as seriously as an existential threat to our civilisation really warranted, we would not still be having conversations about how and why to proceed with carbon pricing, the NBN would not be the main topic of political debate, and we would not talk about the “balancing act” between protecting our coal exports and tackling climate issues. Either we would have strong bipartisan support for urgent action, or greenhouse issues would be the number one voter concern, dwarfing refugees and interest rates.
The reality is that while climate change now forms a part of the nation’s mental background, it spends too little time in the foreground where it belongs.
Could Queensland floods help change that, or will concern over climate recede along with the floodwaters? Everybody knows that climate change is not solely responsible for Queensland’s rains, but appreciates the contribution that will make events like this more frequent. Are the images shocking enough in their devastation but familiar enough in their setting (an Australian capital!) to really drive the connection between climate and personal tragedy home?
Humour me: Close your eyes and imagine the following scenario. You are at home, but the approaching disaster means its unsafe to stay. The roads are blocked or unsafe, and you’re not sure how to get away. You only have a few days’ supplies, but local supermarket is, empty, looted; the tap water is contaminated. The electricity went off yesterday. What are you going to do?
Is this frightening? If not, you are not trying hard enough to imagine yourself, and your neighbourhood, in this sort of peril.
Scenes not unlike this have unfolded in Queensland in recent days and weeks. But in the end, we know that the authorities will be there to assist, that insurance companies will make good on claims, and that the government will help pick up the pieces. When you call the emergency services, help will be on its way. We can rest assured that the nation will swing into action, and while the damage will take years to undo, recovery will begin immediately and a return to normalcy will occur, sooner or later.
But what if it didn’t? What if a string of emergencies left the authorities unable to cope? What if you called and nobody answered? Can you picture your family, rendered homeless, lives perhaps in danger, and only your wits to protect you? With help so far away, who is going to get a hold of the bottled water in the supermarket – those with the e-cash on their contactless payment cards, or somebody else? Where does food even come from, if not the supermarket?
People around the world find themselves in situations like this all the time. They know what it’s like when the rule of law is weak, and sinister gangs patrol the street outside their doors.
But we live in a country that is wealthy, stable and has a democratic history we can be very proud of. In times of adversity, we pull together. Surely, this scenario could never occur in Australia.
Only, sometimes I think to myself: What if it could? Unchecked climate change can wreak havoc on this country – changed cities, economic chaos, floods of refugees pouring in from around the world, and of course a violent and unpredictable climate. It doesn’t seem far fetched that the system could be stretched to breaking point, leaving us on our own in a time of crisis for hours, days – even longer.
With people tragically losing their lives even today, are we really prepared to take any chance of things getting dramatically worse? If, like me, you can imagine just how terrible that would be, then you understand why climate action should be at the top of the nation’s agenda.
The Wikileaks saga continues to captivate the public imagination. The drama around Assange and his arrest, the fascinating leaks, and the cyberpunk-style internet war that is raging in the background means this is the story that just keeps on giving. And it’s not just geeks that are soaking up the news – it’s everybody. This will have a huge impact on future debates on civil liberties online.
Though Wikileaks has done only what journalists have been doing for time immemorial, the backlash against them – and Julian Assange personally – has been massive. First came the outrage. The vociferous condemnations, encouragements to assassination, the hunt to find a legal pretext to lock him up, all came thick and fast as the latest round of leaks began. Our own Prime Minister was quick to label Wikileaks a criminal organisation, despite no laws being broken or charges filed.
Next came the legal and financial attacks. Web hosts were forced to sever ties with Wikileaks. Politicians in the U.S. put pressure on web hosts and payment processing companies such as Paypal, Mastercard and Visa to stop providing service to Wikileaks and throttle their ability to operate. Even a Swiss Bank cancelled Assange’s bank account because he used his Swiss lawyer’s address instead of his own.
The last phase will be legislative, as embarrassed Governments scramble to make laws that would ensure they can lock somebody up – if not now, then next time. Already, a bill has been introduced into the U.S. Congress that would allow the U.S. Government to prosecute Assange under the Espionage Act. Our own government may well be pondering a similar course of action; several times we have been told that they are scouring the law books for something, anything, with which to charge Assange.
Julian Assange has done us a huge favour, and we owe him a debt of thanks.
Not just because he’s lifted up the rock of international diplomacy and made the diplomats and politicians writhe and squirm in the light of global scrutiny – though he has certainly done that.
Not just because he has revealed some of the secrets and deceit behind our own foreign policy, and demonstrated the gap between what our leaders tell us and what they really believe.
And not because he has revealed the often corrosive role of U.S. policy in its relentless drive to shore up American interests. By letting the world’s people know how the U.S. is pressuring or driving the actions of their own governments behind the scenes, they have forever weakened that power.
These things Wikileaks have done are of massive importance. But perhaps they are equally powerful as a demonstration of, a case study in, or even a fable of free speech.
These current disclosures by Wikileaks has been a clear demonstration of the power information can have. Every person in Australia – and indeed the world – who has read or watched the news in the last few weeks has had a lesson in journalism and in whistleblowing. The actions of the our own government have made sure the lesson was driven home in an unforgettable way.
By piling on Assange, by accusing him of criminality, our Prime Minister sought to talk tough on a supposed threat to our security. But it has backfired. We have seen through it. Assange has become David to a Government Goliath. He’s nothing short of a national hero.
That’s because the people know. They know that embarrassing the government is not a crime. Forcing transparency on our elected representatives is not terrorism. Reporting the truth is not, and must never be, against the law.
A mature government, a confident government, could have weathered the storm, explained the embarrassing leaks as grist for the mill of global politics, and defended Assange’s rights without endorsing his actions. But they chose the cowardly way. We noticed, and we were disgusted.
What this means that the next time our government try to tighten their control over information, people will sit up. People will ask questions. When the government tries to censor the free flow of information on the internet, they will talk about protecting children. They will talk about violence, and predators. They will scare us with talk of terrorists and security, telling us that censorship is for our own protection.
But we will think of Assange. We will think of our right to know what our leaders really think of the wars we are embroiled in, or that members of our own government are sources of information for a foreign embassy. We will think of politicians scrambling to protect their own image, and their own jobs. And we will say: No. We will not let you censor, suppress, expunge. Because you work for us, and free speech is the only safeguard we have to hold you accountable.
Wikileaks has demonstrated this beyond a doubt. For this, we owe Julian Assange our support.