< Back to Issue 10 To Prevent Climate Catastrophe, Keep Reading by Madeleine Kelly 2 June 2026 Illustrated by Kylie Wang Edited by Nushi Singh SPOILERS AHEAD: The Ministry for the Future, Strange World You’d be forgiven for thinking the world is ending. I’ve thought it’s happening too. As a climate science student who has left lectures in tears and had to put a cap on how many times I check the news, I often feel anxious for what the future will hold. What really frustrates me though, is that when I sit down to tune out the horrors, I’m presented with the same looming catastrophe in books and movies. Ecological collapse, war, deadly diseases and extreme weather events not only dominate our daily headlines, but also our entertainment. The way we imagine the future in fiction is too often bleak and dystopian. Stories like 1984 , The Hunger Games or The Handmaid’s Tale predict a future where ecological collapse has led to oppressive control by totalitarian governments (1, 2, 3). In Mad Max and Waterworld it has left us hunting each other for sport (4, 5). Eco-fascists destroy worlds in Snowpiercer (6) ; sea level rise has inundated Melbourne’s poorest in The Sea and Summer (7); and collective inaction leads to the literal end of the world in Don’t Look Up (8). Everywhere you look, the apocalypse is inescapable. Even comical stories like Sharknado forecast that devastating climate change is inevitable and will leave humanity scrambling to survive (9). We can’t catch a break. If this is all we can tell of our future, then this is cause for concern. Stories are more than just entertainment – they have real world impact. Science fiction, in particular, has already changed the world countless times over. Video phone calls, automatic sliding doors and self-driving cars are amongst the dozens of inventions inspired by the words and worlds of science fiction (10). Fiction can also influence and act as a warning of political and social systems. Cyberpunk as a genre anticipated worlds defined by mass surveillance, corporate greed and societal decay – all of which you can find inside a Coles supermarket today. Stories can become self-fulfilling prophecies. Warnings are all well and good to raise awareness, but when it comes to the climate crisis, we certainly don’t need any more catastrophising. Climate change is recognised as a serious threat to mental health, with eco-anxiety on the rise, especially amongst young people (11,12). In 2021, a survey found that 75% of young people believe the future is “frightening” and more than 50% felt “helpless and powerless” (13). For some, this can encourage them to engage in climate action (14), but for others it can be debilitating. Severe eco-anxiety has been linked to a feeling coined ‘eco-paralysis’, where individuals are too overwhelmed to take action on climate change (15, 16). Disaster and dystopian stories have, ironically, aided this rise of eco-anxiety and inaction. The Day After Tomorrow (2004), arguably the most famous piece of climate fiction, is set in a near future where the North Atlantic Oceanic current has broken down due to climate change, shepherding in an ice age that freezes over New York City (17). While the movie increased awareness and concern over climate change, research found it left audiences unsure of how to act and scared for the future (18, 19). With our crippled imagination for optimistic alternatives, we’re left stranded in the dystopia, watching helplessly as our future is swept away by Sharknado. We need to rewrite the script. Solarpunk, an emerging sci-fi subgenre and social movement, is trying to do just that. Solarpunk stories reject the doomism and imagine futures where humanity has succeeded in warding off devastating climate change. They include stories like Disney’s Strange World where humanity swaps an unsustainable fuel source for renewable energy (20), as well as stories like Arco and A Psalm for the Wild Built where we rely only on green technology, live within our means and rewild most of the planet (21, 22). What makes solarpunk stories so compelling is that they don’t shy away from showing how complex the problem is and how difficult system change can be. The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson centres around an organisation that is formed to protect the rights of future generations from climate change (23). Using different perspectives and writing styles, Robinson explains the science of climate change and the complicated world of climate economics and policy. He illustrates just how much needs to be changed, but without overwhelm. The story does not leave you eco-paralysed. Instead, it acts as a roadmap showing all the possible pathways to a sustainable future. In taking these actions, we not only address climate change, but also the social inequalities that are intertwined with it. The energy transition is complete, and a successful and equitable restructuring of the global economy has abolished billionaires. It’s a future we can look forward to. At their core, solarpunk stories have hope. A realistic hope that we can achieve a sustainable future using the tools we already have. We need this right now, because hope is incredibly useful in inspiring and navigating change. People with higher levels of hope are generally better equipped to navigate traumatic or stressful circumstances (24). Hopeful people are also more likely to engage in pro-environmental behaviour. One study of more than 500 high school students found that students who felt hopeful about the future were more likely to engage in sustainable behaviours (25). While a number of students also exhibited eco-anxiety, the study concluded that hope was the stronger predictor for actually taking action. If dystopian stories are becoming a self-fulling prophecy, I’m willing to bet – and science is too – that if we tell them, the same could be true for stories of ecological and societal care. The main challenge here is that these stories remain niche. Like most climate fiction, they often only circulate within audiences already concerned about environmental issues, rather than reaching people who are disengaged from or hostile towards climate action (26). This is precisely why these stories need to become more visible. To normalise this future, more of us need to be creating and consuming solarpunk stories. Preventing the climate apocalypse requires you to pick up a book or watch a movie. The stories we tell today shape the world we build tomorrow. So, let them be stories of hope. References Orwell G. 1984 . Martin Secker & Warburg Ltd; 1949. Collins S. The Hunger Games . Scholastic Press; 2008. Atwood M. The Handmaid’s Tale . McClelland & Stewart; 1985. Miller G. Mad Max . Roadshow Film Distributors; 1979. Reynolds K. Waterworld . Universal Pictures; 1995. Ho BJ. Snowpiercer . CJ Entertainment; 2013. Turner G. The Sea and Summer. Faber & Faber; 1987. McKay A. Don’t Look Up . Netflix; 2021. Ferrante AC. Sharknado . The Asylum and Syfy Films; 2013. BBC News. Science fact: Sci-fi inventions that became reality. 2016. Accessed May 24 2026. https://www.bbc.com/news/health-38026393 Clayton S, Karazsia BT. Development and validation of a measure of climate change anxiety. Journal of Environmental Psychology . 2020;69:101434. doi:10.1016/j.jenvp.2020.101434 Passmore H, Lutz PK, Howell AJ. Eco-Anxiety: A Cascade of Fundamental Existential Anxieties. Journal of Constructivist Psychology . 2020;36(2):138-153. doi:10.1080/10720537.2022.2068706 Hickman C, Marks E, Pihkala P, et al. Climate anxiety in children and young people and their beliefs about government responses to climate change: a global survey. Lancet Planet Health . 2021;5:e863-73. doi: 10.1016/S2542-5196(21)00278-3 Verplanken B, Marks E, Dobromir AI. On the nature of eco-anxiety: How constructive or unconstructive is habitual worry about global warming? Journal of Environmental Psychology . 2020;72:101528. doi:10.1016/j.jenvp.2020.101528 Innocenti M, Santarelli G, Lombardi GS, et al. How Can Climate Change Anxiety Induce Both Pro-Environmental Behaviours and Eco-Paralysis? The Mediating Role of General Self-Efficacy. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health . 2023;20(4):3085. doi:10.3390/ijerph20043085 Leger-Goodes T, Malboeuf-Hurtubise C, Mastine T, Généreux M, Paradis P, Camden C. Eco-anxiety in children: A scoping review of the mental health impacts of the awareness of climate change. Frontiers in Psychology . 2022;13:872544. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2022.872544 Emmerich R. The Day After Tomorrow . 20th Century Fox; 2004. Svoboda, M. The lingering influence of ‘Day After Tomorrow’. Yale Climate Connections. 2014. Accessed May 24 2026. https://yaleclimateconnections.org/2014/11/the-long-melt-the-lingering-influence-of-the-day-after-tomorrow/ Lowe T, Brown K, Dessai S, Doria MF, Haynes K, Vincent K. Does tomorrow ever come? Disaster narrative and public perceptions of climate change. Public Understanding of Science . 2006;15(4):435-457. doi:10.1177/0963662506063796 Hall D. Strange World . Walt Disney Studios and Motion Pictures; 2022. Bienvenu U. Arco . Diaphana Distribution; 2025. Chambers B. A Psalm for the Wild Built . Tor Books; 2021. Robinson KS. The Ministry for the Future . Orbit Books; 2021. Ritschel LA, Cassiello-Robbons C. Hope and depression and personality disorders. Current Opinion in Psychology . 2023;49:101507. doi:10.1016/j.copsyc.2022.101507 Finnegan W. Educating for hope and action competence: a study of secondary school students and teachers in England. Environmental Education Research . 2022;29:1617-1636. doi:10.1080/13504622.2022.2120963 Schneider-Mayerson M. The Influence of Climate Fiction: An Empirical Survey of Readers. Environmental Humanities . 2018;10(2):473-500. doi: 10.1215/22011919-7156848 Previous article back to Fact & Fiction Next article

< Back to Issue 9 Ancient Asian Alchemy: Big Booms by Isaac Tian 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Edited by Luci Ackland One question has plagued the human condition since the beginning of time: how can we escape death? Well, we certainly know who didn’t find the answer – the alchemists of ancient China. It’s 210 BC, and you are an alchemist standing before Emperor Qin Shi Huang in his court. You hand him an elixir supposed to grant him immortality and eternal reign. Only the serum contains what we now call “mercury” and if anything, you granted him mortality, as he drops dead before you (1). Where does one begin in this journey to immortality? How do we combine chemicals to find the perfect serum? Keep in mind, we have not even come close to establishing the periodic table at this point (no, that will occur about 1000 years later) (2). Saltpetre – or potassium nitrate – had been used extensively to treat common illnesses and to maintain good health. There’s our starting point (3). The search for this magic elixir persists for the next eleven centuries. We never give up… do we? The ingenuity of the alchemists spoke to them: it told them to mix in a few other ingredients to the saltpetre. With the trio of saltpetre, sulfur and charcoal, gunpowder was henceforth born into this world (4). The alchemists must have been in for a surprise when their “potion of immortality” sparked and exploded before them. So how does gunpowder explode? Why don’t other flammable items like match tips and dry wood explode when we set them alight? It comes down to a few key things. First is our perception of explosions. Chemicals don’t simply “explode” – it’s not an inherent quality of reactions – however, they can combust. Combustion is the release of energy from a fuel. Wood and matches combust, but they do so in a way that is relatively slower than gunpowder. Gunpowder combusts rapidly – so there is a large amount of energy release within a short period of time. Secondly, it’s about the availability of oxygen. Items that combust slowly typically have to wait for the oxygen to trickle in from the surrounding air, since oxygen is a critical component of combustion. This does not apply to gunpowder. The oxygen for its combustion is right there in the nitrate compound (of potassium nitrate – or saltpetre). So unlike burning wood or matches, the combustion does not need to wait for oxygen to arrive from the surrounding environment – it’s already in there with the rest of the powder (5)! To go further on that point: the closer the atoms are, the faster the combustion reaction can progress, because chemical compounds don’t need to wait long for the heat to get to them. Since gunpowder is… well… a powder, it’s rather compact and all the molecules of potassium nitrate, sulfur, and carbon sit tightly next to one another. It is this physical arrangement that permits the fast transfer of heat between molecules, ensuring that a lot of energy can be released at once. Ultimately, when all these physical and chemical phenomena occur in perfect unison, the high temperatures rapidly increase the kinetic energy of surrounding air molecules, causing them to shoot outwards at great speeds to form a “barrier” of sorts. When this barrier, also known as a shockwave, hits your eardrums, the gunpowder delivers what it does best: BOOM! Now, let’s combust some gunpowder, build up some gaseous pressure, and launch ourselves into the modern day. It’s been about twelve centuries – what have we been doing with all the gunpowder? As it turns out, we humans are very inventive, but also violent (Wow – who knew?). We quickly realised that the physical properties of the resulting gases can be harnessed to quickly move very heavy objects (6). Said heavy objects could then be guided in the direction of, say, a human being or a structure. Weaponry derived from gunpowder has existed for a very long time, albeit rather inefficient at first. The introduction of gunpowder to warfare came in the early 10th century, when soldiers applied gunpowder to arrows that would ignite and create fire arrows. Of course, whilst it might have been effective in creating a hole in humans, it was significantly less so when it came to creating holes in walls and structures. Only after 300 years did we then invent cannons and guns. However, those guns were slow – really, really slow – to the point that bows and arrows were actually preferred during warfare of that era. It would be another 600 years before we realised that there were more effective ways of reloading a gun; brandishing a new trend of military technology that would set the stage for the First and Second World Wars (7). By that point, the most terrifying of weapons had begun to stray away from the use of gunpowder. Missiles and rockets began employing other chemicals as propellants, owing to the advantage it had over gunpowder (7). It would also be remiss of this article to omit the exploitation of atomic power – pervading the world with such destruction that gunpowder appeared like a child’s toy (8). The tragic irony of a supposed innovation in immortality leading to mortality by war and conflict will forever embed itself into our history. Even with the right intentions, the invention by the great minds of alchemy has sparked a chain reaction for widespread destruction and warfare. It only makes you wonder – what are we making now that will lead us further astray in the future? References 1. Glancey J. The army that conquered the world. BBC. Accessed August 24, 2025. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20170411-the-army-that-conquered-the-world 2. Guharay DM. A brief history of the periodic table. ASBMBTODAY. Accessed August 28, 2025. https://www.asbmb.org/asbmb-today/science/020721/a-brief-history-of-the-periodic-table 3. Butler A, Moffett J. Saltpetre in Early and Medieval Chinese Medicine. Asian Medicine . 2009;5(1):173-185. doi: 10.1163/157342109X568982 4. Paradowski, R.J. Invention of Gunpowder and Guns. EBSCO Research Starters. 2022. Accessed August 24, 2025. https://www.ebsco.com/research-starters/history/invention-gunpowder-and-guns 5. Stanford University. Detonation and Combustion. Stanford University. Accessed September 4, 2025. https://cs.stanford.edu/people/eroberts/courses/ww2/projects/firebombing/detonation-and-combustion.htm 6. Britannica. Ammunition | Bullets, Shells & Cartridges. Britannica. 2025. Accessed September 25, 2025. https://www.britannica.com/technology/ammunition 7. Beyer G. How Did Gunpowder Change Warfare? TheCollector. 2025. Accessed October 4, 2025. https://www.thecollector.com/how-did-gunpowder-change-warfare/ 8. ICAN. History of Nuclear Weapons. ICAN. Accessed October 4, 2025. https://www.icanw.org/nuclear_weapons_history Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 8 Glowing Limelight, Fashioned Stars by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin 3 June 2025 Edited by Kylie Wang Illustrated by Jessica Walton Good evening Rose Bowl, Pasadena! The crowd erupts into a roar, the stadium air overcome with a thunder of adulation. Between throngs of teenagers tearing through streets in pursuit of the Beatles, concert-goers fainting at the sight of Michael Jackson, and Top Tens of the day made to navigate flirty fan calls on daytime TV in front of live audiences (1), pop history as we know it has always revolved around the deep, fanatic reverence of the star . Stars in all corners of the entertainment cosmos, be it music, film or TV, have long had their lives glamorised. Tales told of luxurious jet-setting, post-show mischief and infamous public appearances peppered with paparazzi. Fame turned into fables, circulated eagerly by the wider populace. Having avidly followed a plethora of musicians, actors and comedians at different points of my own life, the gurgling vortex of stardom culture has remained ever-intriguing. Why do our relationships with stars mean so much to our society, and have they shifted over time? Public perceptions & parasocial relationships Our journey begins with the making of a star. A star is born from an assemblage of artistic choices: artwork, stage personas, press releases, bold onstage costumes and more, which constellate into a fashioned image. Or, a ‘manufactured personal reality’ (2). This reality is what audiences draw upon when forming attachments to stars, a process that moulds complex, contradicting human beings into idealised forms that may resonate, validate or provide meaning to them. The mid-century women empowered by the feminine sexuality and intelligence of Marilyn Monroe (2), or the working class Eastern European following of Depeche Mode who saw the band as an emblem of social rebellion under the USSR in the late 80s (3), are such examples. Such attachment gives rise to the infamous ‘parasocial relationship’ (PSR). An often derisive term aptly used today to call out toxic, boundary-crossing online fan behaviour, parasocial relationships at their core simply encompass socio-emotional connections formed with media figures (4). In it, audiences extend emotional energy, time or interest towards figures that whilst unreciprocated, create a perceived idea of intimacy similar to that of two-way relationships. For the audience, PSRs can evoke feelings of safety, trust and various forms of devotion, self-strengthened through personal habits – think dressing like a favourite ‘bias’, or diligently watching a favourite director’s closet picks. PSRs have historically been one-sided. Audience reactions to sensation and scandal have had the power to make or break an artist’s image, but restricted channels of dialogue meant that direct two-way feedback was often “fragmented” (2). The influencing power of the star’s image lay within reach of the star themselves, and more often than not, was shaped by the wider commercial agendas of their agency or labels. That is, until recently… The rise of the Internet Whilst the glitz and glamour of stardom remains strongly relevant, we can focus on the advent of the internet as the most powerful force in reshaping the relationship between fan and star. Termed the “o ne and a half sided” PSR (4), seen today is a shift in power dynamics towards one of increased fan-star symbiosis. As the theory notes, technology has allowed for greater perceived proximity and reciprocity, blurring the line between social and parasocial. Under the extensive nature of the current digital world, our internet presence has become increasingly considered a material extension of our real-life selves (4), whether through Zoom calls, real-time story updates or live vlogs. Direct messages or comments that allow instant reply have muddied the realm of physical and virtual reality, thus leading audiences to feel ‘physically’ closer to the figures in question. This decrease in constructed social distance has fostered notions of reciprocity, viewing stars as people they can reach out to and touch, converse with, and most importantly, influence in return – regardless of any actual ability to do so (4). As we witness stars defend their personal choices against an onslaught of ‘netizen’ backlash or wryly reply to a barrage of invasive thirst tweets (5), we see the increased power that global audiences have over said stars’ images. Eroded power barriers between the star and fan have heightened both positive and negative emotional engagement. Well-documented are various behaviours that disrespect boundaries between personal and professional lives, such as harassment, stalking, and other breaches of privacy. Yet, the rise of the ordinary, accessible star has also allowed greater exposure to previously hidden or stigmatised facets of figures’ lives, fostering safe spaces for perceived authenticity and vulnerability that can counter blind idealisation (6). Evolving industries & societies Under the diluted power networks of stardom today, we can describe celebrity image production as increasingly decentralised (6). Technology has made entry into the entertainment industry more accessible by providing numerous channels for artistic output, whether it be through releasing music independently on streaming services like Spotify, Bandcamp or Soundcloud, or creating short-form video skits on platforms like TikTok or Instagram. With top-down connections to age-old media institutions no longer required, the pool of faces that audiences can form relationships with has drastically expanded (7). Social norms – at the time of writing – have also welcomed the notion of diversified talents. As prevailing social, cultural and political structures shape value judgments made of stars (2), we have seen increased audience meaning-making in the dimensions of gender, ethnicity, class or sexual orientation over past decades (8) aligned with a gradual direction towards progressive and learned landscapes. Here, celebrity advocacy for causes and movements beyond the stage is nothing new, but fan bases can now dissect their forays into activism more publicly than ever before. A world unapologetically critical of “out of touch” (9) wealthy stars crooning out Lennon’s Imagine at the beginning of the pandemic would unlikely have welcomed the white-saviorist charity event that was Live Aid 1985 with as open arms as the dominant media narrative did then (10). A hyper-consumerist present If the exclusive stardom of yore can be likened to the dominance of a supermarket monopoly, then stardom today looks more like a diverse hub of online stores for buyers to ‘Click and Collect’ from. Whilst this setup offers diversified perspectives to a consuming audience, it embodies wider societal trends towards hyper-commodification. Market an image that sells well, and everyone will be famous for 15 minutes , as Andy Warhol supposedly declared (11). Reinforcing the ephemerality of mass consumerism are internet memes or trends (12) that morph and dilute rebellious celebrity motifs for overarching capitalistic agendas – think Brat Summer campaigns in the style of Charli xcx’s 2024 album co-opted by the most unethical multinational corporation you’ve ever come across. Like with the discourse exposing ‘nepo’ babies in the entertainment industry (13), we are reminded that despite the semblances of democratisation, the limelight remains far from a level stage. Stardom, beyond So what then? What lies in store for the future star? On one hand, the perception of proximity with the decline of ‘untouchable’ star personas can strengthen fan worship and deification, with frenzied consequences. On the other hand, increased artist-audience dialogue can pave the way for real change over performative gestures as lessening power imbalances bring a form of democratisation that can platform diverse and marginalised voices in art. All in all, stars today may no longer be able to fully present themselves and be perceived solely as spectral, enigmatic illusions that audiences can latch upon, but the new freedoms and avenues that come with being more truly known may be just as bedazzling. References 1. Robinson P. The great pop power shift: how online armies replaced fan clubs. The Guardian [Internet]. 2014 Aug 25; Available from: https://www.theguardian.com/music/2014/aug/25/great-pop-power-shift-how-online-armies-replaced-fan-clubs 2. Dyer R. Introduction. In: Heavenly Bodies [Internet]. Routledge; 2004. Available from: https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203605516 3. Wynarczyk N. Tracing Eastern Europe’s obsession with Depeche Mode [Internet]. Dazed. 2017. Available from: https://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/36659/1/tracing-eastern-europe-s-obsession-with-depeche-mode 4. Hoffner CA, Bond BJ. Parasocial Relationships, Social Media, & Well-Being. Current Opinion in Psychology [Internet]. 2022 Feb;45(1):1–6. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2022.101306 5. Yodovich N. Buzzfeed’s “celebrities reading thirst tweets”: examining the sexualization of men and women in the #MeToo era. Journal of gender studies. 2024 Feb 28;33(8):1–11. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1080/09589236.2024.2324263 6. Driessens O. The Celebritization of Society and Culture: Understanding the Structural Dynamics of Celebrity Culture. International Journal of Cultural Studies [Internet]. 2013;16(6):641–57. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1177/1367877912459140 7. Carboni M. The digitization of music and the accessibility of the artist. Journal of Professional Communication [Internet]. 2014 Jun 4;3(2). Available from: https://doi.org/10.15173/jpc.v3i2.163 8. Stewart S, Giles D. Celebrity status and the attribution of value. European Journal of Cultural Studies [Internet]. 2019 Jul 21;23(1). Available from: https://doi.org/10.1177/1367549419861618 9. Caramanica J. This “Imagine” Cover Is No Heaven. The New York Times [Internet]. 2020 Mar 20; Available from: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/20/arts/music/coronavirus-gal-gadot-imagine.html 10. Grant J. Live Aid/8: perpetuating the superiority myth. Critical Arts [Internet]. 2015 May 4;29(3):310–26. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1080/02560046.2015.1059547 11. Nuwer R. Andy Warhol Probably Never Said His Celebrated “Fifteen Minutes of Fame” Line [Internet]. Smithsonian Magazine. Smithsonian Magazine; 2014. Available from: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/andy-warhol-probably-never-said-his-celebrated-fame-line-180950456/ 12. Cirisano T. “Brat” summer and the dilemmas of going mainstream [Internet]. MIDiA Research. 2024. Available from: https://www.midiaresearch.com/blog/brat-summer-and-the-dilemmas-of-going-mainstream 13. Jones N. How a Nepo Baby Is Born [Internet]. Vulture. 2022. Available from: https://www.vulture.com/article/what-is-a-nepotism-baby.html Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 6 Everything, Everywhere, All at Once: The Art of Decomposition by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo 28 May 2024 Edited by Subham Priya Illustrated by Jessica Walton From a single point in time, to a burst of colour and light, our universe came along into existence (The National Academy of Sciences, 2022). Within the multitude of galaxies and stars sprinkled across the universe, our little planet sits inside the solar system within the Milky Way. Like the way the universe came from a singularity, we were created from a singular cell. Over time, this cell divided and divided until we became these complex beings filled with different flavours of cells and the elements that comprise them. We are ever growing, just as the universe is ever expanding (Harvey, A., & Choi, C. Q., 2022). Though the fate of our universe is still a mystery, our fate is a little less mystical and thought-provoking – but that doesn’t make it any less interesting. Our less mystical yet fascinating fate begins with decomposition. Decomposition is the process in which dead tissue is broken down and converted into simpler forms. Large scavengers, such as vultures, foxes and crows, eat chunks of the corpse using it as a source of energy (Trees for Life, 2024). When these scavengers excrete waste — which is certainly not a pretty sight — their dung attracts smaller organisms like dung beetles. Little creepy crawlies — beetles, maggots and earthworms — all come along to the corpse, munching on its bits and pieces. They even lay their eggs in the openings of the corpse like the eyes, nose and mouth, an even LESSER pretty sight! If we zoom in further, we see microscopic bugs grow upon this dead body and take up nutrients. These bacteria then proceed with anaerobic decomposition, which occurs in the absence of oxygen. This produces gases like methane and carbon dioxide, causing the corpse to swell – the reason why dead bodies smell so bad (Trees for Life, 2024). After all that decaying, eventually, all that will remain of the carcass would be the cartilage, skin and bone, which a range of flies, beetles and parasites take advantage of (Trees for Life, 2024). Small critters such as mice and voles may come along, gnawing on the bone for calcium. How else are such little creatures supposed to get strong bones? Decomposition of dead flora is slightly different than the process for animals. For plant decomposition, fungi are the key players. When the tree leaves die and fall to the ground, they form a thick layer on the soil surface along with other dead plants, termed the litter layer (Trees for Life, 2024). Fungi have a body structure of white thread-like filaments called the hyphae, which resemble the white strings of floss. These white fungal floss take over the litter layer and consume nutrients whilst breaking down the litter layer. Unlike the decomposition of an animal, the decomposition process for plants is odourless. Phew! Over time, little wriggly earthworms begin to take control of breakdown. We use earthworms in our compost bins because they are great decomposers for dead plants and make organic fertiliser for our gardens. Whether an animal or a plant, decomposition takes each and every atom, from the carbon to the sodium atoms and recycles them to be used to create something new. It may be daunting from a human perspective to think that after all we’ve lived for, we would only be broken down and that the littlest bits of us, recycled. As our body takes its final breath, the brain fires the last of its neurons flooding our mind with bursts of colour, the way different elements cause the explosion of colours in fireworks lighting up the night sky. As the body decomposes, slowly each molecule of our body returns to the Earth, allowing for new life to take place. A sapling to sprout out from the depths of the soil. We are carried through the life of a new being; perhaps a tree, the grass or the flowers. Once again each molecule and atom in that being will return to the Earth like clockwork. And perhaps, return to the universe, a part of little sparkles that litter the night sky. References Harvey, A., & Choi, C. Q. (2022). Our expanding universe: Age, history & other facts . https://www.space.com/52-the-expanding-universe-from-the-big-bang-to-today.html Trees for Life. (2024). Decomposition and decay . https://treesforlife.org.uk/into-the-forest/habitats-and-ecology/ecology/decomposition-and-decay/#:~:text=Decomposition%20is%20the%20first%20 The National Academy of Sciences. (2022). How did the universe begin? How will it end? https://thesciencebehindit.org/how-did-the-universe-begin-how-will-it-end/#:~:text=The%20Big%20Bang%20theory%20says,in%20an%20already%20existing%20spac e Previous article Next article Elemental back to

< Back to Issue 8 Functional Neurological Disorder by Esme MacGillivray 3 June 2025 Edited by Steph Liang Illustrated by Esme MacGillivray Content warning: Please be aware that this article includes discussion of mental illness, medical malpractice, and ableism. Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) is very simple to explain. It is a problem with how the brain functions. More specifically, it is a problem with how the brain sends and receives messages, resulting in diverse motor, sensory, and cognitive symptoms. But unlike other neurological conditions, FND does not appear to be caused by any identifiable structural damage to the nervous system. As a catchy metaphor: the brain is a computer, and FND is a ‘software’ problem as opposed to a ‘hardware’ problem. If that all feels frustratingly vague, I’m afraid you are out of luck — but in good company. Since developing FND a year and a half ago, I’ve become closely acquainted with confusion. My own body has felt alien sometimes, and the way others have reacted to my disability has been equally disorientating. Instead of accepting that neuroscience is yet to make sense of FND, many people — including medical professionals — rush to dismiss symptoms, or question their very existence. Understanding this condition is not just a matter of advancing scientific knowledge. Judgement and shame must be replaced with compassion. Turns out FND is far from simple to explain. Symptoms often develop rapidly and ‘out of nowhere’, most typically in adolescence or adulthood (1). These can include functional tics, non-epileptic seizures, limb weakness, paralysis, gait disorders, and speech difficulties (2). The list goes on. From the array of possible symptoms alone, it is clear that FND encompasses a broad range of presentations. Fluctuation and inconsistency can exist even within an individual’s experience. Most days, I appear completely ‘normal’. Sometimes, my disability is glaringly obvious. My FND is confusing and isolating; because there is so little information available, it is difficult to get the support I need. It doesn’t help that myths about this condition are rife within both medical and everyday settings, despite it being one of the most common diagnoses made by neurologists (3). I would like to dispel the idea that FND is just a fancy way of saying that doctors have ruled out ‘real’ neurological conditions. Neurologists can observe positive signs, or patterns of sensation and movement, that indicate functional symptoms, such as a Hoover’s sign for functional weakness (1). Therefore, although the cause of symptoms remains unknown, FND is a meaningful diagnosis. The very label itself represents progression away from the harmful beliefs that defined this condition in earlier centuries. Sometimes I joke about how I might have been treated if I was living in the past. Would people try to exorcise me, or burn me at the stake? Or would I perhaps be sent away to a charming seaside retreat? A mental asylum may have been more likely. Indeed, symptoms of FND once would have awarded me a diagnosis of ‘hysteria’. This label originates from ancient beliefs about the uterus punishing the female body with illness if left infertile, representing an ideological burden forced on suffering women for centuries (4). In the words of Eliot Slater in 1965, the term was “a disguise for ignorance and a fertile source of clinical error” (5). As theories of psychology and neurology were reworked, clinicians began using the term ‘Conversion Disorder’ (4). FND symptoms were misunderstood as manifestations of psychological trauma being ‘converted’ into physical distress (4). It’s an interesting idea, but an inaccurate one. Many people with FND have not experienced significant trauma prior to developing symptoms (5). It is now understood that mental and physical harm, such as a severe illness or injury, may increase the risk of an individual developing FND (1,7). However, this is not a requirement, and certainly not the cause of this condition. Unfortunately, the medical field has not unanimously moved on from the misunderstandings of the past. Since my episodes of collapse, unresponsiveness, and uncontrollable movements were not typical of epilepsy, they didn’t seem to concern the first, second, or even third medical professional who saw me. I am glad that my condition is not inherently life-threatening — but declaring that there is nothing wrong with someone is a far cry from reassuring them that their brain isn’t in danger. The attitudes I encountered leant strongly towards the former. Doctors seemed eager to attribute my symptoms to ‘stress’, and prove that I could directly control what was happening to me, while some even tried to convince my mum that I was faking everything for attention. These experiences are not an anomaly. In fact, being dismissed or disbelieved is an almost characteristic part of having FND (8,9). It often takes years for people to be correctly diagnosed (8), let alone be offered any semblance of support. After a month, I was privileged enough to receive a diagnosis — and compassion — from a neurologist who took me seriously. Despite this, there are lingering impressions from that first month without any understanding or guidance. It urges me to ignore what I know to be true about FND, and about my own body, to entertain the idea that my thoughts are secretly orchestrating everything. I am crazy, or too weak minded to stop choosing thoughts that make me have FND. Don’t ask me how one can subconsciously do something on purpose. I didn’t put this idea in my own head, just like I didn’t put FND in my own head. Nevertheless, these things exist. People with FND are tasked with navigating not only frightening symptoms, but also ignorance, stigma, and shame. Sometimes science doesn’t give us a satisfying answer. Future research can hopefully provide people with FND more concrete answers, including ways of understanding ourselves and possibilities for symptom management and recovery. Health and disability are complex, and we can never fully understand what someone else is going through. When it comes to FND, I barely understand my own body half of the time. Fortunately, I now understand that I deserve to be treated with respect. Compassion doesn’t need to be confusing. It shouldn’t take a breakthrough in neuroscience for people with FND to be listened to and cared for. References 1. Bennett K, Diamond C, Hoeritzauer I, et al. A practical review of functional neurological disorder (FND) for the general physician. Clinical Medicine . 2021;21(1):28-36. doi: 10.7861/clinmed.2020-0987 2. FND Hope. Symptoms. 2012. Accessed May 11, 2025. https://fndhope.org/fnd-guide/symptoms/ 3. Stone J, Carson A, Duncan R, et al. Who is referred to neurology clinics?--the diagnoses made in 3781 new patients. Clinical Neurology Neurosurgery . 2010;112(9):747-51. doi: 10.1016/j.clineuro.2010.05.011 4. Raynor G, Baslet G. A historical review of functional neurological disorder and comparison to contemporary models. Epilepsy & behavior reports . 2021;16:100489. 10.1016/j.ebr.2021.100489 5. Slater E. Diagnosis of “Hysteria”. Br Med J . 1965;1:1395–1399. doi: 10.1136/bmj.1.5447.1395 6. Ludwig L, Pasman JA, Nicholson T, et al. Stressful life events and maltreatment in conversion (functional neurological) disorder: systematic review and meta-analysis of case-control studies. Lancet Psychiatry . 2018;5(4):307-320. doi: 10.1016/S2215-0366(18)30051-8 7. Espay AJ, Aybek S, Carson A, et al. Current Concepts in Diagnosis and Treatment of Functional Neurological Disorders. JAMA neurology , 2020;75(9):1132–1141. Doi: 10.1001/jamaneurol.2018.1264 8. Robson C, Lian OS. “Blaming, shaming, humiliation": Stigmatising medical interactions among people with non-epileptic seizures. Wellcome Open Research , 2017:2, 55. Doi: 10.12688/wellcomeopenres.12133.2 9. FND Australia Support Services Inc. Experiences of Functional Neurological Disorder - Summary Report. Canberra (AU): Australian Government National Mental Health Commision; 2019. 13p. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 8 What Do Women Want? by Madeleine Kelly 3 June 2025 Edited by Rita Fortune Illustrated by May Du What do women want? Well, according to scientific research… more data is needed. As it turns out, women are a mystery to science. This mystery stems from the lack of representation of women in scientific research, both as the researcher and the subject. In its stead, sexist assumptions have leaked in and clouded results. This has very real, very scary consequences – and not just for us humans! From women to female birds and mammals, science has a habit of ignoring half the population. This gap exists in many fields, but for now let’s focus on medicine, where women are (quite literally) getting sick of being excluded. Historically, medicine hasn’t been kind to women, going all the way back to the Ancient Greeks where philosophers ingrained sexism into stone. Aristotle, considered the founder of many disciplines in Western culture including biology, thought women incomplete, “mutilated male(s)” (1). Plato, just as revered, stated that women were corrupted by a “wandering womb” – an angry uterus that would drift around the body causing all types of disease (2). The influence of these hot takes on women have shaped the fields of biology and medicine for centuries. Now we’ve ended up with a healthcare system designed by and designed for men. Looking at slightly more recent history, women weren’t included in clinical trials until the 1990s, even when looking into conditions that were specific to women (3). In the early 1960s researchers wanted to examine how the likelihood of heart disease could be decreased amongst menopausal women through hormone supplements (4). They had a respectable sample size of participants for the trials: 8,341 people. Were any of them women? No, of course not. This bias persists today. On average, only 41.2% of participants in clinical trials are female, well below their actual representation amongst patients (5). A 2022 study examined more than 20,000 clinical trials from the past 20 years and found that trials in oncology, neurology, immunology and nephrology had the lowest female representation relative to the likelihood that women would develop the disease (6). In psychiatry, as not even one of the worst fields, women still only made up 42% of trial participants, yet comprised 60% of the patients (5). Women of colour, queer women and trans women are even more marginalised in medical research (7, 8). A regular justification researchers use for excluding cis women is that their menstrual cycles would interfere with the reliability of results (which, by the way, has been proven to be unfounded) (9). This hasn’t stopped them from claiming that their results can be universally applied. Given their systematic exclusion from scientific study, it is no wonder that women are more likely to be misdiagnosed for common conditions such as a heart attack and stroke, and experience adverse side effects from medications, at twice the rate of men (3). During the period from 1997 to 2000, ten prescription drugs were taken off the market by the US Food and Drug Administration. Of these, eight posed greater health risks to women compared to men – risks which could have been caught in the trial stage if they had just included more women (10). Women are also more likely to have their physical symptoms be blamed on mental health issues — because that’s apparently better than doctors having to admit we simply don’t know how women work (11). This knowledge gap extends beyond medical research, and indeed beyond the human world. Females of all species have become victims of sexist attitudes. This is partially owed to the work of famous naturalist Charles Darwin. In his book, The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex (1871), he labelled the female as "passive" and “coy” (12). It is the males who drive evolution, he declared. Males are the competitive ones, fighting each other and showing off their glamour in order to win the female. According to Darwin, the role of females in the animal kingdom was only to submit. Scientists that followed seemed to have a persistent case of confirmation bias. They actively looked for evidence and manipulated results to support their belief that females were monogamous, pacifistic doting mothers. This was exactly the case when in the 1990s two researchers, John Marzluff and Russell Balda, went to study the social hierarchies of the pinyon jay, Gymnorhinus cyanocephalus (13). Native to Western America, the males of this small bird go against Darwin’s claim by being absolute chillers; they don’t like to fight. Desperate to prove Darwin right, the researchers set up feeders with sweet treats to entice competition between the males. The males still refused to go up in arms. This left the researchers searching for some evidence, any evidence, that Darwin’s theory was still correct. So they claimed that there was aggressive competition between the males played out through… passive aggressive side glances. These ‘fights’ of dirty looks must have been absolutely riveting as the researchers documented over two thousand of them, stealing the show from the actual violent battles perpetrated by the females. The girlies were recorded locked in mid-air fights and stabbing each other with their beaks (yawn). This behaviour was explained away as an “avian equivalent of PMS” and that there was “little doubt that adult males are in aggressive control” (13). The myth that females are passive has been shown time and time again to be false. There are certainly some females that play this role, but just like humans, the animal kingdom is diverse. There are plenty of examples that show that females are just as impressive, competitive and violent, and all are worthy of investigation. Female topi antelopes compete for males, the female Jacana bird leaves eggs with their stay-at-home dads and matriarchal grandmother orcas pass on brutal hunting techniques to the next generation (13). Even though the myth has been busted, the consequences of it still echo in research. In 2019, it was found that there was a male bias in international natural history museum collections of mammals and birds, especially for famous name-bearing species (13). For these species, only 27% of bird and 39% of mammal types collected were female. Any studies conducted on these collections are not representative of the whole species. Given the rapid global biodiversity decline we find ourselves facing, having an accurate understanding of more than the human world has never been more important. This requires us to recognise the sexism in our studies. I know first hand that this is not simple, such as when I realised even I had internalised sexist attitudes towards animals. It took me until I was 25 to realise that the shark from the movie Jaws (1975) was meant to be a girl (15). I had just assumed (much like the director Steven Spielberg) bigger shark equals boy shark. Science doesn’t operate in a vacuum. It is not immune to society and politics, and unfortunately this has meant results can be shaped by prejudice. How do we fix this? Is there a cure for medical misogyny and can we finally discover the female species in the wild? There is no single solution, but we have many options on the table. Getting more women into STEM and leadership roles, transparency in data collection – especially being upfront about disclosing whether or not both sexes were included – and more funding for women’s health research are all essential steps (9). Already there are badass scientists out there dismantling sexist beliefs, who are armed with data and persistence (13). I also think a crucial step is to remember that knowledge is not pure. It can contain bias. As the next generation of researchers, we have a responsibility to question the assumptions baked into our methods, our questions and even our definitions of what counts as valid research. This kind of introspective, self-critical work isn’t just about academic integrity. It could save lives. So, what do women want? Aside from going back in time to set a couple ancient philosophers and a certain naturalist straight, we want you to ask us – and to never assume you know the answer before doing so. References Horowitz, MC. Aristotle and Woman. J History of Biology [Internet]. 1976 [cited 2025 May 25]; 9(2):183-213. Available from http://www.jstor.org/stable/4330651 . Adair, MJ. Plato’s View of the ‘Wandering Uterus’. The Classical Journal [Internet]. 1996 Jan [cited 2025 May 25]; 91(2): 153-163. Available from https://www.jstor.org/stable/3298478 . Why we know so little about women’s health [Internet]. Blach, B: AAMC; 2024 [cited 2025 May 25]. Available from https://www.aamc.org/news/why-we-know-so-little-about-women-s-health Dusenbery, M. New York (US): HarperCollins; 2018. Sosinsky, AZ., Rich-Edwards, JW., Wiley, A., Wright, K., Spagnolo, PA. & Joffe, H. Enrollment of female participants in United States drug and device phase 1-3 clinical trials between 2016 and 2019. Contemp Clin Trials [Internet]. 2022 Apr [cited 2025 May 25]; 115: 106718. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cct.2022.106718 Steinberg, JR., Turner, BE., Weeks, BT., Magnani, CJ., Wong, BO., Rodriguez, F., Yee, LM & Cullen, MR. Analysis of Female Enrollment and Participant Sex by Burden of Disease in US Clinical Trials Between 2000 and 2020. AMA Netw Open [Internet]. 2021 Jun [cited 2025 May 25]: 4(6):e2113749. Available from: https: doi.org/10.1001/jamanetworkopen.2021.13749 Bierer, BE., Meloney, LG., Ahmed, HR. & White, SA. Advancing the inclusion of underrepresented women in clinical research. Cell Rep Med [Internet]. 2022 Mar [cited 2025 May 25]; 3(4): 100553. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.xcrm.2022.100553 Kelly, T & Rodriguez, SB. Expanding Underrepresented in Medicine to Include Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trasgender, and Queer Individuals. Acad Med [Internet]. 2022 Nov [cited 2025 May 25]; 97(11) 1605-1609. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1097/ACM.0000000000004720 Beery, AK. & Zucker, I. Sex Bias in Neuroscience and Biomedical Research. Neurosci Biobehav Rev [Internet]. 2010 Jul [cited 2025 May 25]; 35(3): 565-572. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2010.07.002 . Carey, JL., Nader, N., Chai, PR., Carreiro, S., Griswold, MK. & Boyle KL. Drugs and Medical Devices: Adverse Events and the Impact on Women’s Health [Internet]. 2018 Jan [cited 2025 May 25]; 39(1): 10-22. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.clinthera.2016.12.009 Jackson, G. Pain and Prejudice. Crows Nest (AUS): Allen & Unwin; 2019. Cohen, C. Darwin on woman. Comptes Rendus Biologies [Internet]. 2010 Feb [cited 2025 May 25]; 333(2): 157-165. Available from https://doi.org/10.1016/j.crvi.2009.12.003 Cooke, L. Bitch: What does it mean to be female? London (UK): Penguin Books; 2022. Cooper, N. Bond, AJ., Davis, JL., Miguez, RP., Tomsett, L & Helgen, KM. Sex bias in bird and mammal natural history collections. Proc. R. Soc. B. [Internet]. 2019 Oct [cited 2025 May 25]; 286: 20192025. Available from https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.2019.2025 What did Hollywood get wrong about great white sharks in Jaws? [Internet]. Ladgrove, P. & Smith, B: ABC News; 2024 [cited 2025 May 25]. Available from: https://www.abc.net.au/news/science/2024-11-16/jaws-what-did-hollywood-get-wrong-shark-attack-humans/104538116 Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 7 Peaks and Perspectives: A Word from the Editors-in-Chief by the Editors-in-Chief 22 October 2024 illustrated by Ingrid Sefton In geometry, an apex may refer to the highest point of a solid figure, such as a pyramid. Move to the fields of ecology and evolution, and we find apex predators, overseeing population dynamics atop of the food chain. We too find ourselves situated at an apex position in society – observing, experimenting with, and utilising the world at our feet for scientific innovation and headway. Common amongst these apexes in science is unsurprisingly the emphasis on reaching soaring heights and breathtaking summits. We strive to reach these peaks, endpoints that are perceived to signal scientific greatness and knowledge. We create, we innovate, we explore – all with this vision in mind. Yet, this is not, or rather, should not be the “why” for scientific endeavour. Implicit in reaching the highest point of something is the notion that there is no further to climb. That upon reaching an apex, all that remains is to precariously balance upon this peak and hope not to misstep, tumbling down from great heights. Scientific curiosity and a yearning to understand the science underpinning our existence is not about reaching the envisioned apex. It is instead defined by the steps climbed by us and our predecessors in our journey towards discovery, and in turn, the steps that remain untrod and paths that remain uncharted. The routes we are yet to take will be forever changing. Piloted by the evolving foci of our society, where and how we may next seek to innovate remains undetermined. Infinite possibilities abound. With a birds-eye view, Apex visualises the new levels of human-tech connectivity, ills of antimicrobial resistance, and the fringes of outer space that loom on the horizon; with it, encouraging readers to envisage where the next steps may lie. Yet alongside these perspectives of the expansive, limitless world, Apex invites reflection and hypotheticals. Taking time to pause from the unfaltering upward march of innovation, this issue embraces the breathtaking view of where we are now. Apex guides us to consider time-old traditions and technicalities from a new perspective, celebrating those who have paved the way to the peaks of modern science. Wandering within, across and between disciplines of Science, it is these ruminations along the way that enrich the journey. After all, what is scientific advancement without knowing what we do not know? In the words of Sir Isaac Newton, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants that we hope to see further. So come along, and revel in the expansive view. Let the heights of scientific innovation inspire you, but don’t let such peaks constrain you. Previous article Next article apex back to

By Caitlin Kane, Rachel Ko, Patrick Grave, Yvette Marris Message from the Editors in Chief By Caitlin Kane, Rachel Ko, Patrick Grave, Yvette Marris 23 March 2022 Edited by the Committee Illustrated by Quynh Anh Nguyen Another year in science has passed, with 2022 disappearing into 2023. With a mandated return to campus life at the University, there seems a tangible break from the past three years of lockdowns, isolation and online existence. Over the summer holidays, four of our wonderful OmniSci contributers—Andrew, Julia, Lily and Yvette—have written about science that has made a mark in 2022, with topics spanning DNA of the ancient past to the future of art crafted by artificial intelligence. Our writers were supported by editors, Tanya and myself, and the cover and article art for this issue has been created by Quynh Anh. Thanks also goes to our behind-the-scenes events duo, Andrew (again!) and Aisyah, who have been working hard on promotion to showcase the work of our team on this mini-issue, and our treasurer-secretary, Maya, who keeps us all in line. On behalf of the whole team, we're incredibly excited to share our summer issue, 2022: A Year in Science. If you would like to support our work, you can sign up as a member, join our mailing list or get in touch at omniscimag@gmail.com—all this and more on our About Us page. Most importantly, please read on! Previous article Next article

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