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By Clarisse Sawyer < Back to Issue 3 Death of the Scientific Hero By Clarisse Sawyer 10 September 2022 Edited by Ruby Dempsey Illustrated by Quynh Anh Nguyen Next Trigger warning: This article mentions racism, sexism and misogyny and death. As a kid I was obsessed, like most kids, with animals of any kind. I would spend hours at a time scouring the beach for shells, getting sunburnt watching lizards, and tentatively feeding the praying mantises I caught, watching with morbid fascination as they hunted and dismembered the unfortunate crickets. It was only natural that I soon became interested in science. The long days of summer holidays were spent pouring over children’s encyclopaedias and watching David Attenborough documentaries. Through David Attenborough, I discovered two incredibly influential scientists - the co-discoverers of evolution, Charles Darwin, and Alfred Wallace. I idolised them, in particular, Wallace. As a shy child, who avoided the limelight like the plague, I had a natural inclination to root for the underdog, and Wallace was presented as such. Wallace was, in contrast to Darwin, much poorer, much more humble, and received much less credit for the theory of evolution than his co-discoverer Darwin. In my developing brain, Wallace took on the status of hero. I would chatter incessantly about him. I developed an interest in insects and butterfly collecting because he was a lepidopterist. I am sure my parents found me insufferable, but they hid their frustrations well, through subtle eye rolls and conversation changes, because they were happy to see me interested in science. So for my 11th birthday, my Dad bought me a book of Wallace’s letters from his time spent as a butterfly collector in the Malay Archipelago. The book was a lot drier than an 11 year old would have hoped for. Most of it was just taxonomy, peppered with the odd personalised comment complaining about the heat. But there was one passage which stood out to me in particular. A passage in which he describes shooting a “wild woman”, upon mistaking her for an orangutan in the forest canopy. In this section he details taking the baby she carefully carried on her back, and raising it as his own “n-word baby”. He promptly taxidermied the mother, with the intention of selling her remains to a wealthy private collector in England7. It was at this point I stopped reading. At 11, there was no way I could tell this was just an incredibly bad taste joke, and that in reality Wallace had actually shot a peculiar subspecies of orangutan, and not a Malaysian woman carrying her child. At 11, I believed my hero would kill me, if I wasn’t half white, if I wasn’t so light skinned, if I didn’t wear clothes, if I didn’t speak English. I would wonder for years afterwards: how brown would I have to be? To be plastinised, taxidermied, sold to some rich collector to sit in a sterile glass cabinet, at the back of some ex nobleman’s mansion. The passage ruined Wallace for me, but not science. Sometimes I wonder, if my passion for science was only marginally less, would I still be in science? I don’t know. For every child who is only mildly deterred by the racism or sexism of their former heroes, surely there is one child whose passion slowly fades, until the only time it is mentioned is by anxious mothers pushing their children to study medicine. I lost my hero, a precedent for who a scientist should be, in addition to developing a paranoia. A paranoia that if I were to start idolising another white, male, historical, scientific figure, I would be met with the same realisation that he would’ve despised me. And I haven’t been able to find a new hero since. Despite there being numerous people of colour, and women in science for a millennia before me, they weren’t the ones promoted to me, or if they were, I found them unrelatable save for their gender or the colour of their skin. They were people who were, 99% of the time, hard working to a fault, such as Marie Curie. Often this diligence was presented as being a detriment to their happiness. So my decision to study science, like many other women and people of colour, was also a decision to be my own precedent for what a scientist should be. While this is empowering, it is difficult not to envy those, like the privileged archetype of a white man, who might be able to draw confidence and inspiration from the figures in the preliminary pages of scientific textbooks. Whilst the majority of them may prove unrelatable, the sheer quantity would ensure that at least one would be a sympathetic character, in stark contrast to the singular, tokenistic entries on historical non-white or female scientists in such text books. But does it really have to be this way? Why should anyone have to feel alienated by scientific history? Why are there not more diverse heroes for us to fall back on? At the crux of my alienation from Wallace, and scientific history more generally, was deceit, more specifically what I perceived as lying by omission. The initial presentation of scientific figures such as Wallace by media, institutions and the like is so sympathetic and devoid of grisly details, that upon discovering the multifaceted nature of these individuals, I experienced a kind of historical whiplash. A scientific education is often presented as being objective. What you are taught in a classroom, at least at a primary or secondary level, is not meant to be subject to much nuance or interpretation. Now, when this concerns science itself, it is a non-issue, because it is true, for instance, that chromosomes are made of DNA, or that the first electron shell of an atom contains 2 electrons. The issue is that the perception of objectivity carries over into the way science history is taught. Unfortunately, this teaching is unavoidably subjective. Teachers and institutions often present positive anecdotes about scientists' hobbies and personal lives. A teacher may share for instance, an endearing fact about the influential French palaeontologist, Georges Cuvier, that he became as knowledgeable in biology as university trained naturalists by the age of 126. However, said teacher may neglect to mention the fact that after her death, Georges Cuvier dissected and taxidermied Sarah Baartman , a South African woman of the Khoisan tribe, and paraded her as a freak for the English public5. Her plastinated body remained on display at the Museum of Manin Paris until 19744. In this example, it would be impossible to say that the teacher’s presentation of Cuvier was objective. Choosing to share the nicest facts about a scientist, to make them appealing to your audience, while neglecting the ugly truths,is at best, irresponsible, and at worst, lying by omission. .Abhorrent actions, such as Cuvier’s treatment of Baartman’s corpse, a woman with whom he had danced and conversed with before her death, are treated as unnecessary details in objective scientific history, as they do not pertain to Cuvier’s scientific discoveries. However, equally unnecessary details, such as Cuvier’s early aptitude for biology, are peppered into school curricula liberally. However, it would be unfair to say that the primary reason why natural history is taught in this way is because of conscious racism and sexism. There are a multitude of explanations for why educators teach like this. Educators may choose to include only the nicer traits of scientific figures, in part perhaps because they do not want to risk disengaging students with affronting subject matter. Further, the morbidity and the racism of scientific history is not exactly appropriate content to teach to younger children. Precedent also plays a role in the way in which natural history is taught. Teaching natural history in an unbiased and inclusive fashion would require rewriting a lot of material. Educators would also have to reevaluate their own personal perceptions of historical figures, which is a difficult task. For instance in Australia, the textbooks A Short History of Australia2 and The Story of Australia3, which were staples of Australian high school history classes for decades, are white-centric stories of Australian exploration, which gloss over perturbing historic details such as massacres of Indigenous peoples. While teaching scientific history in a fair, unbiased and age appropriate manner might seem like an impossible task, there are a variety of small steps educators can take towards this end goal. A strong start would be the following; if teachers decide to include personal details about famous scientific figures, they should seek to include both positive and negative anecdotes, which frame negative actions in a disapproving light. The negative anecdotes serve to ensure that students don’t get ‘whiplash’ as they pursue their education, and also serve to show that modern science does not condone or approve of these actions. In the case of younger students, it is best for teachers to avoid talking about triggering topics, so teachers should teach scientific history from an objective standpoint sans personal details. Teachers also should, as part of their responsibilities as an educator, seek out alternative historical perspectives which challenge their own preconceived notions. And educational institutions should offer professional development courses which provide educators with a more balanced view on scientific history. These actions would help eliminate any subliminal biases teachers might have whilst teaching scientific history. And why are there not more diverse heroes for us to fall back upon? Lack of equal opportunity for marginalised groups in Western society for most of history and the systemic erasure of their contributions is an obvious reason, however through relying on secondary, colonial sources for information, instead of delving deeper into primary sources, educators and institutions inadvertently gloss over scientific contributions by marginalised groups. For example, the contributions of Indigenous Australian scientists and explorers are often ignored by museums. Many famous white explorers of Australia, such as Thomas Mitchell, Charles Sturt and Alexander Forrest worked closely alongside Indigenous guides, who helped navigate territory, and point out items of scientific interest, and their names are actually often acknowledged in primary sources1. For instance, one of explorer Thomas Mitchell’s chief guides, Yuranigh, is mentioned extensively in Mitchell’s personal accounts of his expeditions, and was acknowledged posthumously by Mitchell with a grave and monument1. These people, who were explorers in their own right, have largely been relegated to the footnotes of history and museums, in particular after the publications such as the aforementioned textbooks A Short History of Australia, and The Story of Australia in the 1950’s, which deliberately omitted Indigenous contributions to white Australian exploration in order to sell the false narrative of terra nullius. Luckily, through researching primary sources further, historians, educators and curators will be able to change the narrative, and shed light on these marginalised scientists. But what of scientific heroes? How is it possible to keep students engaged without the more personal aspects of science, given that many scientific figures will have to be cut from curriculums, at least for younger students?My answer to that would be to find new heroes. History is littered with people who made significant contributions without committing atrocities. And who knows, maybe in the void left by problematic figures, space could be cleared for more diverse heroes, the kind removed from history textbooks, such as Yuranigh; an exciting prospect. And yet, there is an unavoidable anguish in throwing out the old in favour of the new. Coming to terms with the fact that the people we idolised were terrible people is no easy feat. But all we can endeavour to do is to portray scientific figures as they were. To portray all aspects of these figures, good and bad, or none at all, and hopefully develop a new history, a new tradition, one that is inclusive, one for which everyone can be proud of and take solace in. References 1. Watson T. Recognising Australia's Indigenous explorers [Internet]. researchgate.net. 2022 [cited 19 May 2022]. Available from: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/321579451_Recognising_Australia's_indigenous_explorers 2. Scott E. Short History of Australia. Forgotten Books; 2019. 3. SHAW A. The story of Australia. London: Faber; 1975. 4. Parkinson J. The significance of Sarah Baartman [Internet]. BBC News. 2022 [cited 19 May 2022]. Available from: https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-35240987 5. Kelsey-Sugg A, Fennell M. Sarah Baartman was taken from her home in South Africa and sold as a 'freak show'. This is how she returned [Internet]. Abc.net.au. 2022 [cited 19 May 2022]. Available from: https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-11-17/stuff-the-british-stole-sarah-baartman-south-africa-london/100568276 6. Georges Cuvier [Internet]. Britannica Kids. 2022 [cited 19 May 2022]. Available from: https://kids.britannica.com/students/article/Georges-Cuvier/273885 7. Wallace A, Van Wyhe J, Rookmaaker K. Letters from the Malay Archipelago. Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press; 2013. Previous article Next article alien back to

< Back to Issue 4 Why Our Concept of Colours is Broken by Selin Duran 1 July 2023 Edited by Tanya Kovacevic and Megane Boucherat Illustrated by Aizere Malibek The world that surrounds us is made from a combination of three main colours: red, yellow and blue. Known as the primary colours, it's the first thing we learn in primary school art class. In illusions, however, our concept of colours becomes warped and fails us. The only question is how do we fix it? Take the infamous colour-changing dress of 2015. This dress became an internet sensation due to its ambiguity of colour with the major question being “Is the dress black and blue or white and gold?” The dress, despite causing many online debates, is actually black and blue. Nevertheless this debate raises an important question about colours. Why do we see different colours in the same image? Let's begin with colour theory. Colour theory is a set of guidelines that artists use when mixing colours within the spectrum. With the intention of provoking different psychological responses, colours are used to either complement or contrast one another [1]. We see this through the infamous dress - with black and blue complimenting each, then gold and white. Our highly subjective perception allows us to see visually appealing combinations of colours juxtaposed to contrasting combinations. However, what we also need to consider are the light sources being used. Ranging from natural light to blue light and other artificial lighting, the light that we are exposed to can alter our perspective of colour. On our devices, we see colours through a series of red, green, and blue pixels that combine to make new colours for every image that we see [2]. Similarly, the frequent manipulation of our devices’ brightness also contributes to different colours being shown on the screens. These are the primary reasons why the famous dress was perceived so differently by everyone: each device shows a different version of the same colour depending on its display settings, which affects how many red, green and blue pixels there are. In addition to the colour theory, another effect— the Bezold Effect—is at its peak with the infamous dress. The Bezold Effect is an optical illusion where a colour’s appearance is affected by the presence of colours that surround the object [3]. For this dress, it’s seen through the shadows that form on and around the bodice. With brighter surroundings, such as the sun or an overly brightened screen, the blue from the dress appears gold to the eye, while the black appears white. The dress reverts to its original colours when the screen is darkened or artificial light is used. Circling back to colour theory, the changes in colours aren’t randomly allocated: they are opposing colours of the colour wheel. The wheel is a visual illustration of colours arranged by their wavelength, used to display the relationship of primary colours to their corresponding secondary colours [4]. With blue contrasting a yellow or gold, the changes in lighting perfectly display the contrasting colours on the wheel. The fascinating nature of colours is not something we can fix. In the era of digital displays and evolving technologies, we can’t see things the “right” way because there is no notable “right” or “wrong” way to look at the world. The dress is just one of those illusions that changes depending on the context and surroundings that it’s placed in. You can manipulate these colours and force them to change by physically changing the brightness on a device. So out of curiosity, I decided to conduct a little experiment of my own through an Instagram poll to see what my friends thought of this dress. While only 37 people participated, it was still fun to see what would happen with the votes; however, I was surprised to see the results after 24 hours. I expected a majority to choose the “real” colour of the dress, since the dress has been around in the media for a while and the answer is also online, but people still had contrasting opinions about the dress. With only 54% of people seeing black and blue and 46% white and gold, I began questioning our vastly different perceptions. The answer always seemed obvious as the dress was always black and blue not white and gold but that didn’t mean that other people saw what I saw. My favourite response came from a friend who saw the dress as blue and gold and after that, my opinion changed. For me, the dress is now blue and with tints of gold and I can’t see it any other way. This truly goes to show that there’s more behind the dress than what meets the eye. When I first saw the image my brightness was at the lowest it could possibly be and now after looking at the image enough, it’s just blue and gold. The ambiguity of this image is what makes the dress the best example of a real-life illusion. Other colour combinations act the same way in different lighting, but what we see is completely dependent on our perceptions, and every now and then, it’s always fun to put up a debate. References Eliassen MM. Colour theory. Salem Press Encyclopedia [Internet]. 2023 Jan 1 [cited 2023 May 13]; Available from: https://discovery.ebsco.com/linkprocessor/plink?id=30f4180b-d38d-38e6-95df-fcf469ab5c8a Mertes, A. (2021, February 23). Why Computer Monitors Display the Same Colors Differently . https://www.qualitylogoproducts.com/ . https://www.qualitylogoproducts.com/promo-university/why-monitors-display-different-colors.htm#:~:text=The%20pixels%20are%20in%20some,shows%20up%20on%20the%20screen Lasikadmin. (2022, June 2). What is Bezold Effect? | Useful Bezold Effect. LASIK of Nevada. https://lasikofnv.com/blog/test-your-vision-by-bezold-effect/#:~:text=What%20is%20the%20Bezold%20Effect,one%20to%20the%20human%20eye Understanding color theory: the color wheel and finding complementary colors . (n.d.). https://www.invisionapp.com/inside-design/understanding-color-theory-the-color-wheel-and-finding-complementary-colors/ Previous article Next article back to MIRAGE

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

< Back to Issue 6 A Frozen Odyssey: Shackleton’s Trans-Antarctic Expedition by Ethan Bisogni 28 May 2024 Edited by Rita Fortune Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin The Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration South of the 66th parallel lies a continent desolate and cruel, where the experiences of those who dared to challenge it are preserved in its ice. Antarctica was deemed Earth’s final frontier by 19th-century explorers, and at the cusp of the 20th century, the ‘Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration’ was underway (Royal Museums Greenwich, n.d. a). Those who answered the call of the wild, to face the polar elements, would be remembered as heroes. Among the pantheon of Antarctic explorers, none are more celebrated than Sir Ernest Shackleton. An Irishman whose name became synonymous with adventure and peril, Shackleton emerged at the forefront of Britain’s polar conquests. During his Nimrod expedition to reach the magnetic South Pole, Shackleton and his crew found themselves within 100 miles of their goal—only to be thwarted by their human needs (Royal Museums Greenwich, n.d. b). His ambition outmatched the capabilities of those he commanded, so they withdrew for want of survival. Despite the supposed failure of the two-year expedition, Shackleton’s romanticism of exploration, leadership, and unwavering optimism earned him a knighthood in 1909 (Royal Museums Greenwich, n.d. b). In the years following, as other explorers performed increasingly remarkable polar feats, Shackleton was left in limbo. It was during this time that an impossibly ambitious expedition was put forward to him. The plan was as follows: a crew would sail a wooden barquentine, the Endurance, into the Weddell Sea, and land on the Antarctic coast. There, the men would split into groups, and Shackleton would pursue a daring transcontinental journey across Antarctica (Smith, 2021). Despite the questionable feasibility of this plan, a benefactor named James Caird sought to help fund the expedition (Smith, 2021). Thus, these plans were translated into reality, and with a finalised crew of 27, the Endurance was set to sail under the helm of New Zealand captain Frank Worsley. On August 1st, 1914, the Endurance departed Plymouth (PBS, 2002). Explorers of the Antarctic, from left: Ronald Amundsen, Sir Ernest Shackleton, Robert Peary (Antarctica 21, 2017) The Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition Into the Weddell Sea, December 5th, 1914 After their momentary recess in South Georgia, and the recent pickup of a stowaway, the Grytviken whaling station remained the crew's last semblance of civilisation (PBS, 2002). Shackleton was well aware of the challenges that loomed ahead—notorious for its hostility, the Weddell Sea was Antarctica’s first line of defence (Shackleton, 1919). In the coming days, the Endurance encountered pack ice, severely slowing its progress. A nightmarish phenomenon for any explorer, pack ice was an abundant drift of sea ice no longer connected to land. While plentiful, navigating it was not impossible—it only required patience, caution, and an intuitive hint of wisdom. But even with worsening conditions, Shackleton proceeded into unclear waters (Shackleton, 1919). The Endurance in the Weddell Sea (Hurley, 1914) Icebound, January 18th, 1915 The Endurance was again ensnared in ice, and this time the ship would not budge. Plagued by regret in pushing ahead, but desperate to break free, Shackleton ordered his men to cease routine. Once again, his ambition outpaced his capabilities, but Shackleton was also a man of determination. They would wait until an opening cleared (Shackleton, 1919). The ship began to drift northward with the ice, but as months passed, so too did any hope of landing. Time was running out, and with winter approaching, the Endurance would soon be engulfed by the long polar night (PBS, 2002). For this expedition to succeed, the crew needed to remain optimistic. A brotherhood formed on the ice, with theatre plays and celebrations to ease their dire worries. The eerie creak of the hull did not deter them from trekking the very ice that imprisoned them. The ship’s Australian photographer, Frank Hurley, captured these moments of perseverance on photographic plates, including the hauntingly beautiful Endurance beset amongst the snow (Shackleton, 1919). The Endurance in the night (Hurley, 1915) Abandon Ship, October 27th, 1915 True to its name, the Endurance weathered the dark winter months. But despite the comfort of a newly rising sun, disaster did not fade with the darkness. A catastrophic ice shift had violently imploded the ship’s hull, and with its fate sealed, the Endurance would not hold. Shackleton gave the order to abandon ship (Shackleton, 1919). Any hope of the expedition continuing was now lost alongside the Endurance , which was silently withering on the ice. Though this was not Shackleton’s first time in Antarctica, nor was it his first disastrous expedition. Stations of emergency supplies established by himself and other explorers were scattered across the islands of the Weddell Sea, each offering glimmers of hope. However, at over 500 kilometres away, they all required a potentially fatal journey (Shackleton, 1919). Frank Wild overlooking the wreck of the Endurance (Hurley, 1915) Ocean Camp, November 1st, 1915 A plan was conjured—they would march across the unforgiving ice, bringing themselves to one of the few sanctuaries along the Antarctic Peninsula. Concerns of risk from Captain Worsley fell on deaf ears; undeterred, Shackleton knew waiting was futile (Worsley, 1931). Leading up, a difficult decision was made to conserve the crew’s rations. Mrs. Chippy, the beloved ship cat of carpenter Harry McNish, was to be killed amongst the other animals (Canterbury Museum, 2018). Although believing it necessary, Shackleton’s remorseful orders to cull the animals aboard had cast a shadow over his leadership (Scott Polar Research Institute, n.d.). The march soon commenced, but horrendous conditions had led the men into a frozen labyrinth. After a pace of only a kilometre a day, the march was abandoned. The crew instead erected ‘Ocean Camp’, and were to wait for the ice to clear a path for their lifeboats (PBS, 2002). Weeks in, the crew's evening was interrupted by the ghostly wailing of the Endurance wreck . Beckoning in the distance, the men gathered to watch its final breaths. On November 21st, the ice finally caved in, and the Endurance was swallowed into the forsaken depths of the Weddell Sea (Worsley, 1931). Ocean Camp (Hurley, 1915) The Rebellion on the Ice, December 27th, 1915 With the crew’s last tether to the world severed, a depression had settled over the camp. Now dragging their lifeboats to open water, a quiet but persistent discontent was beginning to grow. Most of the crew still admired Shackleton as their resolute leader, but some were beginning to lose faith. A frustrated and grieving McNish made his stand, arguing that the loss of the Endurance had nullified Shackleton's command. Shackleton, furious but sympathetic, was able to successfully de-escalate the situation (Scott Polar Research Institute, n.d.). The mutiny was short-lived, but McNish was now under Shackleton's watchful eye. He knew that he would have to inspire hope, and that a rift in the crew would only prompt death. Dragging the lifeboats (Hurley, 1915) Elephant Island, April 14th, 1916 With three lifeboats in possession, a proposal to island-hop was presented. McNish had spent his time reinforcing the boats for open waters, and after careful deliberation, a destination was chosen. Elephant Island was a barren, windswept landscape—a false sanctuary harbouring an inhospitable environment. Landing there was not Shackleton’s first choice, but a fast approaching winter left no alternative (Shackleton, 1919). With Elephant Island looming over the horizon, the boats set forth. Battling the arduous sea, one of the lifeboats, the Dudley Docker , was torn away from the rest during an unprecedented storm. Fading into the vast darkness, the men aboard were presumed dead. No amount of enthusiasm from Shackleton could lift the crew's spirits, who were now delirious and grief stricken (Fiennes, 2022). The following day, a landing was imminent. Nearing the shore, a boat was noticed soaring in the distance. The Dudley Docker pierced through the waves—the crew still alive and following in hot pursuit. Ecstatic and revived with hope, landfall was made. A major milestone had been reached; the crew were now unified and ashore for the first time since South Georgia (Fiennes, 2022). Unfortunately, Elephant Island’s taunting winds carried no whispers of hope. The silence was apparent: this island would be their grave unless contact was made with civilisation. A party must be formed, one that would take the risk and sail into the heavy seas of the Southern Ocean (Shackleton, 1919). The shores of Elephant Island (Hurley, 1916) The Voyage of the James Caird, April 24th, 1916 Shackleton selected a route to a South Georgia whaling station neighbouring the one they had departed in 1914—a harrowing 1500 kilometres across notoriously restless seas. In one of their modified lifeboats, they were to utilise the prevailing westerlies to attempt an impossible sailing feat (Pierson, n.d.). Six men were selected to commander the James Caird : Shackleton, Worsley, McNish, Crean, Vincent, and McCarthy. As the James Caird set sail, a vast ocean of uncertainty lay between Elephant Island and South Georgia (Pierson, n.d.). The voyage was tortuous, with the men severely ill-prepared. From storm-fed waves to frigid winds, the James Caird and those aboard were unlikely to survive the journey. At each turn, however, the determined men managed to stay afloat and push ahead. 17 days passed before the dominant mountains of South Georgia came into view (PBS, 2002). Shackleton, fearing his men would not survive another day at sea, hastened a plan to land on the rocky western shores (Pierson, n.d.). The six men found themselves on the wrong end of the island to the station, and James Caird was in no state to navigate the coast. The capable individuals would have to perform the first trans-island crossing of South Georgia—a far cry from their original ambitions, but daring nonetheless. With only Shackleton, Worsley, and Crean able to attempt the task ahead, McNish, Vincent, and McCarthy were left to establish ‘Peggotty Camp’ in the landing cove (Pierson, n.d.). Waving goodbye to the James Caird (Hurley, 1916) The Crossing of South Georgia, May 10th, 1916 The three men began their journey northward towards the Stromness whaling station. Encountering menacing snow-capped peaks, the men were so close to potential rescue only to be divided by insurmountable odds. Needing to race the approaching night down a 3000-foot mountainside, a makeshift sled was constructed from their little equipment. Rocketing downhill, a rare moment of joy and exhilaration accompanied the men along their daredevilish tactics (Antarctica Heritage Trust, 2015). Exhausted and verging on collapse, the men were now nearing the outskirts of their destination. A whistle in the air had lured them closer, and on May 20th, 1916, contact was finally made. The men were tended to by the distraught station managers, and a rescue party was sent the following day to those abandoned at ‘Peggotty Camp’ (Pierson, n.d.). After multiple attempts to obtain a suitable vessel, the 22 remaining souls holding steadfast on Elephant Island were finally rescued by the Yelcho on August 30th, 1916. Hope was not lost amongst them, as even in his absence their belief in Shackleton kept their spirits alive. Bringing their ordeal to a close, and without a man’s life lost, the crew’s troubles were left behind in the frozen Antarctic (Shackleton, 1919). The Yelcho arrives to rescue the crew (Hurley, 1916) Legacy Published in 1919, ‘South’, Shackleton’s autobiographical recount of the expedition, brought these remarkable stories into the limelight. However, records stricken from the novel hide some concerning truths. While omitting the incident regarding McNish’s mutiny, it was clear Shackleton resented him for introducing doubt during their time of turmoil. Despite his redemption during their voyage to South Georgia, Shackleton recommended McNish not be awarded the Polar medal—a decision still considered mistakenly harsh (Scott Polar Research Institute, n.d.). But despite his flaws and misjudgments, Shackleton was undoubtedly the optimistic and courageous leader you would seek in times of crisis. In 1922, aboard his final expedition to circumnavigate Antarctica, Shackleton suffered a fatal heart attack - and was buried in South Georgia. Regarded as a defining moment, his death signalled the end of the ‘Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration’ (Royal Museums Greenwich., n.d. b). Exactly one century following, the Endurance was found preserved at the bottom of the Weddell Sea. Its mast still bearing its inscription, the ship remains an enduring remnant of a heroic past. This inspiring tale of survival continues to live on, as one of the greatest stories of human perseverance in the face of the elements. The crew of the Endurance (Hurley, 1915) References Antarctica 21. (2017). Famous Antarctic Explorers: Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton. Antarctica 21 . https://www.antarctica21.com/journal/famous-antarctic-explorers-sir-ernest-henry-shackleton/ Antarctica Heritage Trust (2015). Crossing South Georgia. Antarctic Heritage Trust. https://nzaht.org/encourage/inspiring-explorers/crossing-south-georgia/ Canterbury Museum (2018), Dogs in Antarctica: Tales from the Pack. Canterbury Museum https://antarcticdogs.canterburymuseum.com/themes/hardships Fiennes, R (2022). Remembering a Little-Known Chapter in the Famed Endurance Expedition to Antarctica. Atlas Obscura, https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/shackleton-endurance-elephant-island Hurley, F. (1914-1916). Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition Photographic Plates. [Photographs]. National Library of Australia. https://www.nla.gov.au/collections/what-we-collect/pictures/explore-pictures-collection-through-articles-and-essays/frank PBS (2002). Shackleton’s Voyage of Endurance. PBS Nova. https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/shackleton/1914/timeline.html Pierson, G (n.d.), Excerpt: The Voyage of the James Caird by Enerest Shackleton. American Museum of Natural History. https://www.amnh.org/learn-teach/curriculum-collections/antarctica/exploration/the-voyage-of-the-james-caird Royal Museums Greenwich. (n.d. a). History of Antarctic explorers. Royal Museums Greenwich. https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/history-antarctic-explorers Royal Museums Greenwich. (n.d. b). Sir Ernest Shackleton. Royal Museums Greenwich. https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/sir-ernest-shackleton Scott Polar Research Institute (n.d.). McNish, Carpenter. University of Cambridge, Scott Polar Research Institute. https://www.spri.cam.ac.uk/museum/shackleton/biographies/McNish,_Henry/ Shackelton, E (1919). South: The Endurance Expedition. Heinemann Publishing House Smith, M (2021). Shackleton's Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition. Shackleton. https://shackleton.com/en-au/blogs/articles/shackleton-imperial-trans-antarctic-expedition Worsley, F (1931). Endurance: An Epic of Polar Adventure. W. W. Norton & Co Previous article Next article Elemental back to

Conversations in Science Behind the Scenes of COVID-19 with Dr Julian Druce By Zachary Holloway What will our future with COVID-19 look like? How do we live with it? How could it have been managed better? In conversation with Dr Julian Druce, a renowned expert in the field of virology. Edited by Caitlin Kane & Breana Galea Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Janna Dingle Interview with Dr Julian Druce, head of the Virus Identification Laboratory at the Victorian Infectious Diseases Reference Laboratory. Before the middle of 2021, it seemed Australia was finally seeing the back of the COVID-19 pandemic: case numbers were down, the vaccine rollout was gaining momentum and Victoria had defeated the Delta variant twice. Fast forward to today, and the outlook doesn’t appear to be as rosy. Over a year and a half from when the pandemic began, it is still dominating headlines around the world. But like many in Australia, I still had many questions regarding the state of the pandemic, our path out of it and how scientists behind the scenes were shaping our public health response. I sat down in conversation with Dr Julian Druce hoping to find some of the answers to these questions. Zachary Holloway: What was the work you were conducting at the Victorian Infectious Diseases Reference Laboratory (VIDRL) before the COVID-19 pandemic? Dr Julian Druce: VIDRL itself is a public health reference laboratory, with a large focus on virology. For virology there are four main labs: one is a big serology laboratory which tests for antibodies and the footprints that a virus leaves after your immune system has interrogated that pathogen. The other labs are more focused on direct detection of some specific viruses: there’s an HIV-specific lab, a hepatitis-specific lab and then my lab, which focuses on all other viruses. These mostly use very specific PCR (polymerase chain reaction) tests for the detection of the virus. Another option for rapidly detecting viruses that might be new is by having tests that, rather than detecting a specific virus, detect a family of viruses at once. They’re called consensus PCRs or pan-viral PCRs. One of those tests was a pan-coronavirus PCR, and that had been sitting in a freezer for thirteen years, only to be brought out at the start of 2020 when SARS-CoV-2 emerged, and that was the test we used to verify that we had the virus by sequencing the PCR product. ZH: I know that VIDRL was the first lab outside of China to grow SARS-CoV-2 in culture. What was the process for this, and how did this help in developing a standardised test for COVID-19? JD: My boss, Dr Mike Catton, and I had been on WHO [World Health Organisation] teleconference calls all through the preceding weeks where everyone was clamouring for someone to grow the virus. So I immediately put it up for culture on the Friday night when we detected it. This process puts a small amount of patient sample onto cells that may get infected with the virus. I came in on Sunday to check it, and thought something might be happening so put the flask of cells onto a camera that took photos every fifteen minutes. As soon as I checked this on Monday, I knew that it was growing because there was an obvious pattern in the cells that showed they were changing. In terms of having the cultured virus, it was then just a process of getting it out to other labs and collaborators. We gamma-irradiated some material and that material, which is killed, was a good positive control material for other laboratories to use to verify and validate their testing algorithms. Because at that point, there were only self-designed tests for COVID-19 in a few labs. This material was used to help validate all the labs around Melbourne and Australia as commercial tests became available to get them ready for testing. ZH: How important was genome sequencing for our contact tracers to be better able to track and trace the spread of the virus? JD: In general, roughly every two weeks the virus will generate one mutation somewhere. That mutation can be used to track the lineage – a bit like a family tree – and once that mutation goes from, say, me to you, you might get a new mutation when you pass it on to someone else. That mutation then becomes a key identifier for that strain. That really helped in tracking and tracing in the early days, to understand who was probably giving it to whom even though contact tracing can often work that out. Importantly though, at that very early stage we closed our borders to China, but we left our borders open to America and Europe. So as cases were coming in from those countries, we had to do genomic sequencing to verify what strain, or lineage if you like, with key mutations were showing up. We could then readily identify whether the samples were from Europe, America or the Ruby Princess, or from wherever there were new cases coming in. ZH: Has the increased infectivity of the Delta variant of SARS-CoV-2 beaten contact tracers and made Australia’s “COVID zero” strategy unachievable? JD: In terms of “COVID zero”, the national pandemic plan has always been to suppress the virus and flatten the curve, and the public health aim of that is to push the volume of samples down and stretch it out along a timeline axis. You might end up with the same numbers, but it’s stretched out across a year rather than one or two months, which shatters your health system. But what we found early was that with a lot of goodwill and effort from the public, we did eliminate the virus. We didn’t necessarily expect to do that, so that was a lucky event. But with the Delta variant, it does seem that it spreads more efficiently: the calculated reproduction rate for this variant is about 3-4 or more, and about 2-3 for the original wild-type. So this makes it much harder to eliminate. ZH: I think millions of people around the country want to know the answer to this question, but when will lockdowns stop being a viable strategy for containing this virus? Does it come with increasing vaccination, or could it continue after that? JD: It very much depends on what happens as we move forward. Of course, vaccination is the pathway out of this. As more people become vaccinated and less susceptible to serious disease and death, we will slowly transform this virus into a common cold, or at least that’s what is likely to happen. But I suspect that as we open up, if it all goes badly, we may have to have some level of restrictions to mitigate transmission. Some of this is already being discussed with entry passports, and people not being allowed into pubs, theatres, or wherever else there is close confinement in a natural or urban setting, unless they’re double-dosed. ZH: In retrospect, how will we rate the response to this pandemic? Was it proportional to the dangers it posed? JD: I think that will be debated for years. Every country has done it a little bit differently, from the worst end of the scale to the best end of the scale. Australia is probably on the better end, in terms of suppressing and eliminating the virus, but we haven’t done as well with the vaccine rollout. We’re getting there now – we’re catching up – but I think, generally, Australia will be viewed favourably as having had a good response. In Australia there’s a double-edged sword with vaccination uptake because we didn’t have the carnage that other countries had.. But now that we’ve got the virus circulating again, that has prompted a greater uptake of the vaccine, which is a good thing. Outside of Australia, I imagine the World Health Organisation will do an analysis of the generalised responses of different countries: from some of the poorer performers – like America and other countries that decided to let it rip, thinking that herd immunity was the best option – to the responses of other countries, mainly severe lockdowns, who suppressed and eliminated the virus. There are still many types of parameters to look at, from economic and socioeconomic to virological and epidemiological, a lot of elements still to tease apart when this is all done. Dr Julian Druce is the head of the Virus Identification Laboratory at the Victorian Infectious Diseases Reference Laboratory, where he works with a team to detect many of the viruses that infect humans and devises new ways to detect novel viruses. We would like to thank Dr Druce for taking the time to meet with us and discuss his work.

By Hazel Theophania < Back to Issue 3 Existing in an Alien World: Navigating Neurodiversity in a System Built for Someone Else By Hazel Theophania 10 September 2022 Edited by Breana Galea and Ruby Dempsey Illustrated by Janna Dingle Next Content warnings: Ableism, mental illness. Have you ever read something that just makes everything click into place? For me, it was that autism is characterised by a difficulty in forming and understanding ‘second-order representations’1. Let me explain: A ‘first order representation’ is the face value, the direct interpretation of an object or event. A ‘second order representation’ is the underlying meaning, the non-literal association with an object or event. Autistic people struggle with the latter. Allistic (non-autistic) people don’t, and for them it’s intrinsic in a large part of communication – nonverbal cues and gestures, sarcasm, undertones, passive aggression, politeness and more complex events like communication of social hierarchy all take place beneath the veneer of explicit communication. They rely on the ability to interpret another’s actions based on extrapolating their perspective. Rather than being automatic for autistic people, doing so is a learned, active behaviour, and one that is taxing to maintain and use. Reading this explanation was epiphanous for me for two reasons: it concisely explained why I and other autistic people I knew had such trouble navigating and communicating in social interactions, and it clarified why conflict and miscommunication arose so frequently. It contextualised and validated the way I experience and understand the world. Autistic communication is direct, predominantly using first order representation. It doesn’t soften effect or hide meaning with subtext; conversely it has difficulty picking up on inference and implication from others. So many times I have answered questions or followed instructions ‘incorrectly’, because I’ve addressed the words and not the implied meaning underneath. Much of boundary setting and emotional communication in social relationships is implicit - are they ‘acting’ interested? Does it ‘feel’ like they are reciprocating? Can you ‘tell’ that they want to be friends? - inability and difficulty in reading those complex second order representations makes navigating those situations painful and confusing. These struggles and anxieties make it much harder for autistic individuals to make and maintain friendships (3). Sedgewick and Pellicano (3) found that both autistic girls and boys report weaker friendships with more conflict than their neurotypical peers. They experience more victimisation, autistic girls especially, from bullying and other relational aggression, and experience far more insecurity around their friendships. The authors identify “both autistic and neurotypical girls alluded to wanting to fit in, but in different ways.” The neurotypical girls in the study were more concerned with securing a place in the social hierarchy – appearing cool and fitting in with the popular crowd - whether through dating or other means. For the autistic girls it was about finding people who actually accepted them as themselves; fitting in was not about adhering to social expectations, but about finding friends where they didn’t have to. Bury and Hedley (5) found much the same issues in analysing the problems autistic people face in the workplace. While the work itself was no more trouble for autistic individuals than their neurotypical counterparts, navigating the social aspects of a workplace drastically increased the stress and drain on autistic employees. Issues can arise from relative trivialities like dealing with food or birthday wishes, up to serious conflicts that jeopardise their employment. The same communication and relational issues that lead to autistic individuals struggling socially can have more serious consequences when the miscommunication and conflict arise when interacting with an authority, such as a boss or supervisor. Problems stem from unclear instructions, not adhering to unwritten or unspoken rules (social and otherwise), interrupting and socialising at wrong times – everything that relies on being able to determine and pick up on implicit communication. In other words, being autistic has career consequences. Now, having anxiety or depression aren’t intrinsic to being autistic (6). They’re not part of the same dysfunction in development. However, something about being expected to negotiate a minefield of implicit communication that others grasp intuitively leads to an extreme coincidence of autism with both anxiety and depression. The social ostracism and punishment for violating rules you’ve never been taught casts a slight shadow over every interaction. The starkly increased incidences of bullying and victimisation autistic youth go through may also contribute to mental illness. Mayes, Murray and their team7 write: “It is quite possible that youth with ASD (youth with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) ) face considerable challenges during the transition from childhood to adolescence. Social difficulties and awareness of being different from others, especially during the teen years, may lead to problems with anxiety, depression, or hostility.” They reported anxiety in autistic children ranging from 67% to 79% depending on the severity of their traits, and depression affecting between 42% and 54% likewise – in comparison to anxiety occurring in 8% of children and adolescents8 and depression in 5% of children, 17% of adolescents13, and 5% of adults12 overall. Similar figures are reported by Susan White and her colleagues in their meta-analysis “Anxiety in children and adolescents with autism spectrum disorders”. The social deficits autistic individuals endure lead to social anxiety by increasing the likelihood of negative interactions9 and then that anxiety makes interaction with others more difficult, perpetuating the cycle. It’s clear there’s an issue here. Despite no biological link, autistic people suffer far greater rates of depression and anxiety than their neurotypical counterparts. They find friendships more taxing, worrying, and less fulfilling due to impossible unrealistic expectations of allistic communication and understanding. They’re far more likely to be the target of bullying and victimisation than their neurotypical counterparts. Autistic adults suffer in their careers and employment due to a lack of accommodation and recognition. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Growing up neurodivergent shouldn’t be traumatic. Existing as an autistic person shouldn’t be fraught with conflict. I don’t know how we will get to that point. It feels like there are a hundred facets to the issue, each their own problem and needing their own solution. That being said, all solutions need to stem from an understanding of autism and autistic individuals. So, what does it mean to be autistic and how can we navigate those communicative differences? The social aspect of autism arises from a deficit in ‘Theory of Mind’, which is the capacity to interpret and conceptualise another’s thoughts, beliefs, emotions, and intentions (1, 2, 9, 10). Second order representations are the events in which Theory of Mind is used to interpret their meaning – and so a disorder in Theory of Mind development affects the ability of an individual to use and understand those second order representations. Essentially: autistic individuals struggle to interpret and conceptualise other people’s thoughts, beliefs, emotions and intentions. What does that mean for communication? As mentioned earlier, it leads to this a twofold miscommunication between autistic and allistic people, where autistic people don’t see meaning where it is, and allistic people see meaning where it isn’t. This is known as the ‘double empathy problem’ (2). But it isn’t just a communication deficit on the part of the autistic person – the disconnect is due to two entirely different communication styles. Allistic people use second order representations readily and frequently. They’re able to infer other’s perspectives with ease and conversation is based around these assumptions. Gestures, body language and inference are used to convey meaning and assess receptiveness. If the wrong assumptions are made, it can lead to ‘fragmenting’, where there is a cost to getting it wrong and the conversation is disrupted (2). It may not be relationship-damaging every time, but people do pick up on misread cues or intentions and often the only indication a mistake has been made is given through those same implicit communications. The creation of a shared understanding is known as ‘intersubjectivity’ (1, 2). Allistic intersubjectivity is managed through these second order representations, where the shared understanding is outlined and defined implicitly. Autistic people don’t have the same ability to interpret second order representations, so rather than probing or assessing what others have in common, they essentially have to guess. As a result, autistic people can seem appear egotistical or self-interested (2) when they spontaneously talk about an interest of theirs, or suddenly change the topic of conversation. In actuality, they’re trying to find common ground. Because finding that initial mutuality is harder, autistic individuals also place far less of a social cost on getting it wrong (2) and so while intersubjectivity may be harder to initially reach, there’s far less penalty for trying and failing. If these bids for connection are reciprocated, it can creates a “rich intersubjective space for shared understanding” (2). These two elements of autistic communication come together to form a coherent communication style. Heasman writes “The generous assumption of common ground and the low demand for coordination are more than two isolated features; they potentially fit together into a functional system that allows rich forms of social relating” (2). The autistic communication style only appears to be dysfunctional when “[placed] against the cultural backdrop of neurotypical norms and expectations” (2). Another way to look at that is that autistic people don’t need ‘extra’ accommodation or compensation compared to allistic people – allistic people just have all their needs already met. They’re already accommodated for, but it’s such a cultural norm that it’s not even perceived as being so. A metaphor for the two types of communication is that of an allistic person and an autistic person trying to set up fishing rods along a river. The allistic person knows where the fish are - perhaps from reading the movement of the water - and sets up all their poles in that spot. The autistic fisherperson has no such information and sets up their rods all up and down the river to try to find themwhere the fish are. Once they’ve got a few bites and know where the fish are, great! They can move all their rods and set up in whatever spot they’ve found. They just don’t have the same ability to determine where to set up in the first place. They’re not any worse at fishing (i.e., communicating) – they just have trouble knowing where to start. Autism is only a disability in an environment that doesn’t support it. As Bury noted, the only deficits in the workplace are from a lack of social accommodation – autistic individuals don’t struggle with the work itself. In fact, both Bury and Hurley-Hanson and her co-authors report that autistic individuals perform better in a multitude of areas: they have greater problem-solving, pattern-recognition and decision-making skills and a greater tolerance for repetition (5, 11). And that’s great! It’s wonderful to be recognised for the talents you have and the effort you put in. But it shouldn’t have to be justified that autistic people deserve employment and equitable treatment. It’s depressing to have your life and experience boiled down to your marketability and employability. But there is still a disconnect between autistic and allistic people. The perception of autistic people as defective rather than different prevents the integration and acceptance of autistic people into the social space and workforce. To work towards an autism-friendly society, education and awareness of the ways communication and understanding differ in neurodivergent individuals need to be ubiquitous. The hardships autistic people face aren’t because we’re autistic – they’re because everyone else isn’t. Instead of us continuing to assimilate to an allistic worldview, perhaps it’s time to meet us halfway and learn how we operate instead. References Frith, U. (1989) A new look at language and communication in autism. Heasman, B. (2018) Neurodivergent intersubjectivity: Distinctive features of how autistic people create shared understanding. Sedgewick, F., Pellicano, E., (2018) ‘It’s different for girls’: Gender differences in the friendships and conflict of autistic and neurotypical adolescents. Happé, F., Leslie, A. (1989) Autism and ostensive communication: The relevance of metarepresentation Bury, S. et al. (2020) Workplace Social Challenges Experienced by Employees on the Autism Spectrum: An International Exploratory Study Examining Employee and Supervisor Perspectives White, W. et al. (2009) “Anxiety in children and adolescents with autism spectrum disorders.” Mayes, S.D., Calhoun, S.L., Murray, M.J. et al. (2011) Variables Associated with Anxiety and Depression in Children with Autism. Bernstein, G. A., & Borchardt, C. M. (1991). Anxiety disorders in childhood and adolescence: A critical review. Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry Bellini, S. (2004) Social Skill Deficits and Anxiety in High-Functioning Adolescents With Autism Spectrum Disorders. Focus on Autism and Other Developmental Disabilities. Brewer, N, Young, RL & Barnett, E 2017, ‘Measuring Theory of Mind in Adults with Autism Spectrum Disorder’ Hurley-Hanson, A. (2020) ‘Autism in the Workplace’, Palgrave Macmillan Institute of Health Metrics and Evaluation. Global Health Data Exchange (GHDx) Selph, S. (2019) Depression in Children and Adolescents: Evaluation and Treatment Previous article Next article alien back to

< Back to Issue 6 Hidden in Plain Sight: The dangerous chemicals in our everyday products by Kara Miwa-Dale 28 May 2024 Edited by Zeinab Jishi Illustrated by Semko van de Wolfshaar Water bottles, lipsticks, receipts, and tinned food cans. Have you ever considered what may be lurking in these seemingly harmless daily essentials? These items all contain bisphenol A (BPA), a common endocrine-disrupting chemical (EDC). EDCs are chemicals that mimic or interfere with the endocrine system, which is responsible for producing and releasing hormones that regulate important processes in the body such as growth, metabolism, and reproduction (The Endocrine Society & IPEN, 2024). Upon being released into the bloodstream, hormones travel to their target tissues and organs, where they influence key biological functions. Hormones have specific receptors on their surface which bind to matching receptors on their target tissue. The endocrine system is an incredible feat of nature. It creates widespread and long-lasting changes throughout the body via an intricately controlled web of interactions between tiny molecules. However, a small change can be enough to tip this finely regulated balance into disarray. BPA is a type of bisphenol, which is one class among many other types of EDCs, such as phthalates, perfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS), and polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs). BPA has a similar chemical structure to oestrogen, an important hormone involved in both male and female reproductive systems. This enables BPA to ‘mimic’ oestrogen; essentially tricking oestrogen receptors into activating in the absence of oestrogen. BPA is known to cause a wide range of negative health impacts, such as reproductive, metabolic, and neurological issues (The Endocrine Society & IPEN, 2024). But don’t just take my word for it. The toxicity of BPA has been debated over many decades, ever since it was first linked to health issues in the 1970s. It has been challenging to generate evidence relating to the toxicity of BPA, given the ethical concerns of deliberately exposing people to EDCs. As a result, scientists have mainly used animal models, alongside studies examining the correlation between EDC exposure and disease, to investigate the action of BPA. Research strongly indicates that elevated exposure to BPA is correlated with poorer egg quality and higher miscarriage rates in women, alongside a reduction in sperm count in men (Matuszczak et al., 2019). BPA is also a known obesogen (a hormone which disrupts metabolism, increasing risk for obesity), supported by a recent study indicating the odds of adult obesity rise by 15% for every 1 nanogram/mL increase in the concentration of their urinary BPA (Wu et al., 2020). Even more concerningly, BPA has been found to have epigenetic effects, which are heritable chemical modifications to DNA which regulate how genes are turned on and off. Scientists were able to demonstrate these epigenetic effects by exposing rats to BPA and allowing them to breed for multiple generations. In this study, rates of obesity and reproductive disease were increased in all subsequent generations of rats, despite only the first generation being directly exposed to BPA (Manikkam et al. 2013). Considering that BPA has been used commercially since the 1950s, it is probable that these epigenetic effects have been compounding in humans with each passing generation. Without intervention, the consequences of ongoing BPA exposure are likely to intensify. It is deeply concerning that BPA remains ubiquitous in the community, with more than 7 million tonnes produced each year (Manzoor et al., 2022). Given its presence in a multitude of everyday products, BPA exposure is essentially impossible to avoid. Detectable levels of BPA are present in nearly all children and adults, and even developing foetuses (Calafat et al., 2004). Mounting evidence for the toxicity of BPA is prompting scientists to call for greater measures in preventing harmful exposure to BPA and other EDCs. What is being done by policy makers to address this issue? I sat down with A/Prof Mark Green, an Associate Professor in Reproductive Biology at the University of Melbourne, to discuss the current research around EDCs and the measures that can be taken to protect the public from their damaging effects. Are BPA-free labels just illusions of safety? There has been a shift towards manufacturing products labelled ‘BPA-free’, such as BPA-free water bottles. This sounds great on the surface: purchase the ‘BPA-free’ water bottle and sleep well knowing that you’re taking proactive action to protect your health. Unfortunately, these efforts may be in vain. As companies manufacturing EDC-containing items have a vested interest in their products being approved as safe, many of these ‘BPA-free’ products are simply being replaced with other bisphenols (e.g. bisphenol F, or BPF), which are suspected to have similar or even worse effects compared to BPA (Wiklund & Beronius, 2022). Fortunately, some countries have started looking towards more holistic ways of regulating suspected EDCs, as noted by A/Prof Green: ‘A positive step forward is that the USA and EU are starting to think about regulating whole classes of chemicals, rather than individual chemicals.’ Introducing this new approach will help to ensure that manufacturers can’t simply switch to a similar (but unregulated) chemical when one is banned. Redefining toxicity: Does the dose make the poison? Another key issue is the current way that EDCs are evaluated for toxicity. A historical principle of toxicology (which has later been challenged) is the idea that ‘the dose makes the poison’. This theory proposes that substances with ‘toxic’ properties only cause us harm if we are exposed to a certain ‘threshold’ amount. In other words, if someone is exposed to five times the amount of a chemical, they will observe five times as much of an effect on their health. However, scientists have found that many EDCs don’t behave in this way. There are some instances where lower doses may, in fact, lead to more severe effects. As A/Prof Green aptly puts, there may be no such thing as a ‘safe dose’ for some EDCs. Blind spots in EDC regulatory testing: Are vulnerable populations overlooked? Regulatory testing procedures often underestimate the negative impact of EDCs by disregarding how hormones affect people differently throughout the lifespan. Embryonic development is a critical period in which exposure to EDCs can have disproportionately large impacts on health compared to exposure in adults. Choi and colleagues (2016) studied the consequences of BPA exposure on developing cattle embryos and observed that even short-term exposure had concerning repercussions on their development and metabolism. Nost testing procedures fail to take these endpoint measures into account. A/Prof Green pointed to examples of toxicology testing in which ‘rates of death and tumours in adult male rats were used as an end point measure to define toxicity, which had nothing to do with more subtle effects on reproduction’. Context matters: Navigating EDC regulation in the real world Another factor to consider is that these individual EDCs don’t exist in a vacuum; the reality is that we are exposed to a ‘soup’ of many different chemicals every day. A/Prof Green noted the inefficiency of testing individual chemicals for endocrine-disrupting properties: ‘Historically a lot of these EDCs have been studied individually, but we don’t know what happens with all the different compounds when they go together, and which combinations are worse. Investigating EDC mixtures is a big gap of knowledge.’ In isolation, small doses of EDCs may not result in any adverse impacts on human health. That said, the interaction of many EDCs may have severe consequences (Conley et al., 2021). These interactions may explain the conflicting evidence surrounding EDCs, where some studies reveal significant effects and others do not. A/Prof Green is currently investigating the impacts of EDC mixtures on human health in relation to the ‘exposome’, which is the cumulative effect of the environmental exposures we encounter throughout our lives (e.g. chemicals, air pollutants, radiation, food). He hopes that a better understanding of these complex interactions will allow us to make more informed decisions about how to regulate EDCs. Paving the path towards a healthier future Unfortunately, the economic interests of companies producing EDC-containing products compete with the implementation of necessary policies. Given the suspected epigenetic effects of EDCs like BPA, taking a more cautious but proactive approach in regulating EDCs seems to be a wise course of action. The burden created by EDCs is huge, with attributable annual disease costs estimated to be $340 billion USD in the USA, and $217 billion USD in the EU (Malits et al., 2022). What can we do as consumers? Are we resigned to bathing in a cocktail of EDCs, awaiting our descent into a dystopian nightmare reminiscent of ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’? Despite the disheartening reality of EDCs, there is room for hope. Scientists are working hard to find safer alternatives to materials containing EDCs, and a growing number of chemicals are facing bans or stricter regulation. The first step in mitigating the negative consequence of these chemicals is increasing awareness about EDCs and reducing our personal exposure to them. Here are 5 tips from A/Prof Green that can help you to avoid unnecessary exposure to EDCs: 1. Don’t drink from plastic water bottles, especially if they have been left in a hot environment. 2. Don’t reheat food in plastic containers - use a microwave-safe bowl or plate instead. When storing leftover food, let it cool before transferring to plastic containers. 3. Try to reduce consumption of tinned foods, as these are lined with plastic resins. 4. Avoid handling receipts, as these are covered in BPA. 5. Ventilate your home and avoid perfumes or sprays with strong smells – these often contain EDCs. To encourage governments and industrial regulators to enforce stronger legislation and tighter controls on EDCs, it is essential to empower consumers and advance scientific research. While our direct influence on policy decisions may be limited, as consumers, we possess the power to drive positive change, promoting public health not only in the present but for generations to come. For some more information, check out these great resources about EDCs: https://www.yourfertility.org.au/everyone/drugs-chemicals https://endocrinedisruption.org/ https://www.ewg.org/ References Calafat, A. M., Kuklenyik, Z., Reidy, J. A., Caudill, S. P., Ekong, J., & Needham, L. L. (2005). Urinary concentrations of bisphenol A and 4-nonylphenol in a human reference population. Environmental Health Perspectives , 113 (4), 391-395. https://doi.org/10.1289/ehp.7534 Choi, B. I., Harvey, A. J., & Green, M. P. (2016). Bisphenol A affects early bovine embryo development and metabolism that is negated by an oestrogen receptor inhibitor. Scientific Reports , 6 (1), 29318. https://doi.org/10.1038/srep29318 Conley, J. M., Lambright, C. S., Evans, N., Cardon, M., Medlock-Kakaley, E., Wilson, V. S., & Gray Jr, L. E. (2021). A mixture of 15 phthalates and pesticides below individual chemical no observed adverse effect levels (NOAELs) produces reproductive tract malformations in the male rat. Environment International , 156 , 106615. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.envint.2021.106615 Gore, A.C., La Merrill, M.A., Patisaul, H.B., and Sargis, R. (2024). Endocrine Disrupting Chemicals: Threats to Human Health. The Endocrine Society and IPEN. https://ipen.org/sites/default/files/documents/edc_report-2024-final-compressed.pdf Malits, J., Naidu, M., & Trasande, L. (2022). Exposure to endocrine disrupting chemicals in Canada: population-based estimates of disease burden and economic costs. Toxics , 10 (3), 146. https://doi.org/10.3390/toxics10030146 Manikkam, M., Tracey, R., Guerrero-Bosagna, C., & Skinner, M. K. (2013). Plastics derived endocrine disruptors (BPA, DEHP and DBP) induce epigenetic transgenerational inheritance of obesity, reproductive disease and sperm epimutations. PloS One , 8 (1), e55387. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0055387 Manzoor, M. F., Tariq, T., Fatima, B., Sahra, A., Tariq, F., Munir, S., Khan, S., Ranhja, M. M. A. N., Sameen, A., Zeng, X., & Ibrahim, S.A. (2022). An insight into bisphenol A, food exposure and its adverse effects on health: A review. Frontiers in Nutrition , 9 . https://doi.org/10.3389/fnut.2022.1047827 Matuszczak, E., Komarowska, M. D., Debek, W., & Hermanowicz, A. (2019). The impact of bisphenol A on fertility, reproductive system, and development: a review of the literature. International Journal of Endocrinology , 2019 . https://doi.org/10.1155/2019/4068717 Wu, W., Li, M., Liu, A., Wu, C., Li, D., Deng, Q., Zhang, B., Du, J., Gao, X., & Hong, Y. (2020). Bisphenol A and the risk of obesity a systematic review with meta-analysis of the epidemiological evidence. Dose-Response , 18 (2). https://doi.org/10.1177/1559325820916949 Previous article Next article Elemental back to

Each issue of OmniSci Magazine is created by a team of passionate students, who contribute as writers, editors, designers, and behind the sciences as our organising committee. This interview series highlights six from our exceptional team for Issue 4: Mirage. Interview Series Each issue of OmniSci Magazine is c reated by a team of passionate students, who contribute as writers, editors, designers, and behind the sciences as our organising committee. This interview series highlights six from our exceptional team for Issue 4: Mirage, released in July 2023! Interviews by Caitlin Kane, Graphics by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Meet OmniSci Editor Ta ny a Kovacevic Ever wondered what it's like to contribute to OmniSci? We spoke to Tanya Kovacevic about her experience, from starting writing during lockdown to what's in the words for Issue 4: Mirage! Tanya is currently in her third year of the Bachelor of Biomedicine and studying a concurrent diploma in Italian. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is contributing to four articles as an editor. READ MORE Meet OmniSci Writer Mahsa Nabizada Doubting time is real? We spoke to first-year uni student Mahsa Nabizada about her upcoming article on this very topic, plus advice for starting university and why Thorium has a special place in her heart. Mahsa is a writer at OmniSci and a first-year university student planning to study mathematical physics. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is writing about the illusion of time. READ MORE Meet OmniSci Writer and Editor Elijah McEv oy Bored of that one topic you need to keep revising this week? Read our chat with Elijah McEvoy about getting inspired by all areas of science, his sci-fi movie recommendations, and hear about his upcoming article about artificial intelligence. Elijah is a writer and editor at OmniSci and a second-year Bachelor of Science student. For Issue 4: Mirage, he is writing about artificial intelligence that masquerades as human, and contributing to two articles as an editor. READ MORE Meet OmniSci Designer and Committee Member Aisya h Mohammad Sulhanuddin Thinking of joining the OmniSci committee? We spoke to Aisyah, who incorporates her love for design into illustrations, events and social media at OmniSci, and shares her advice for those interested in getting involved (just do it!). Aisyah is a designer and Events Officer at OmniSci in her final year of a Bachelor of Science in geography. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is contributing to social media and as an illustrator. READ MORE Meet Omni Sci Writer and Committee Member Rachel Ko Curious what an OmniSci Editor-in-Chief actually does? We spoke to Rachel about drawing anatomy, interviewing a med student hero, and helping build the the science communication universe! Rachel is a writer and Editor-in-Chief at OmniSci, now in her first year of the Doctor of Medicine. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is writing an interview with science communicator, Dr Karen Freilich. READ MORE Meet OmniSci Designer Jolin See New to science? New to Melbourne? New to OmniSci? Yes, yes and yes! We spoke to Jolin about joining OmniSci with an art background, growing through challenges, and her best local exhibit recommendations. Jolin is a designer at OmniSci and an exchange student from Singapore studying Psychology and Arts & Culture Management. For Issue 4: Mirage, she is contributing to our website, and to two articles as an illustrator. READ MORE

< Back to Issue 5 On the Folklore of Fossils Ethan Bisogni 24 October 2023 Edited by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin We inhabit an incredible world, one shaped by the ancient mysteries of our past and the imaginative stories they inspire. Throughout human history, we have tried to comprehend the bigger picture - using mythology and science to explain the presence of any natural phenomena we can observe. Between the movement of the stars and shape of the land, most scientific explanations of our world share a fascinating mythical counterpart. One particular area of science that has been bestowed with some truly incredible folklore is palaeontology. A History of Palaeontology To best understand some of the amazing mythologies surrounding fossils, we should first briefly explore the history of modern palaeontology. Some of the earliest attempts at understanding fossils can be seen in ancient Greece and Rome, where philosophers such as Herodotus understood that the presence of petrified shells indicated the recession of a past marine environment (Forli & Guerrini, 2022a). However, much of the groundwork for modern palaeontology was only developed in the late 17th century (Boudreau et al., 2023). Regarded as one of the most influential figures in modern geology, Nicholas Steno had outlined the Principles of Stratigraphy in his 1669 Dissertationis Prodromus - to be used as a jumping board for many earth scientists to come (Berthault, 2022). In the early 1800’s, William Smith had utilised his fossil knowledge to differentiate and match layers of rock known as strata, published in Strata Identified by Organised Fossils (Scott, 2008). And perhaps one of the largest contributions to modern palaeontology, Darwin's theory of evolution outlined in On the Origin of Species allowed for natural scientists to better understand the evolution of species throughout time. Considering how much of what we know about modern palaeontology was only published in the last 350 years, it becomes clear why so many cultures had developed their own interesting interpretations of fossils. From magical spells to infernal beasts, these legends highlight the prominent ideologies of their time. So let us explore some of the more interesting and diverse fossil myths from the ages. Merlinia To start, we will be discussing the folklore origin of Merlinia, an extinct genus of trilobite from the Early Ordivician age, 470 million years ago (British Geological Survey, n.d.). Trilobites were small sea-faring invertebrates who first appeared following the Cambrian Explosion, and were prominent throughout the fossil record until their unfortunate extinction 250 million years ago during the Late Permian mass extinction (American Museum of Natural History, n.d.). According to the British Geological Survey, this genus of trilobite was extensively found throughout the rocks of Carmarthen - a Welsh town famous for being the supposed birthplace of Merlin, the legendary wizard and advisor to King Arthur (‘P550303’, 2009). Often mistaken by the townspeople as stone butterflies, these fossils were naturally attributed to Merlin and thought to be the product of a petrification spell (American Museum of Natural History, n.d.). Whilst disheartening for the butterflies, the real trilobites behind the myth likely faced a much more wicked and sorrowful demise. Snakestones Much like Merlinia, snakestones were also named after a prominent figure with a habit for turning creatures to stone. Saint Hilda of Whitby was the abbess of the local town monastery during the sixteen hundreds, and was widely credited for the creation of these fossils - which are otherwise known as Hildoceras, after herself (Lotzof, n.d.). With the town facing a plague of snakes, St Hilda was said to have performed a miracle that petrified the serpents and forced them to coil into the fossils we see today (National Museums Scotland, n.d.). These stony serpents however are really just ammonites, a group of molluscs that went extinct alongside the dinosaurs 66 million years ago (Osterloff, n.d.). The legend of St Hilda isn’t the only instance of snake-repellent folklore either, with St Patrick earning himself a holiday after supposedly clearing the snakes out of Ireland. Much of the rise of European anguine-based legends can be attributed to growing Christian influences during the second millennium. The biblical depiction of snakes as tempting and disingenuous has caused them to be portrayed harshly throughout older western media (Migdol, 2021). Unsurprisingly, this isn't the only time that palaeontology and Christianity have crossed paths. The Devil Perhaps the most infamous figure in human culture, the Devil is outlined in Christian doctrine as the embodiment of sin and evil. References to their influence can be found throughout human history, and have naturally found their way into geological folklore. Many geological features have been attributed to a satanic presence, thought to be remnants from when the Devil would walk the earth (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). Gryphaea was a fossil widely mistaken as the authentic nails of Satan himself, hence nicknamed the ‘Devil’s Nails’, and was used as a proxy to determine areas of evil (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). However, these fossils were not the byproduct of Satan’s occasional beauty treatments, but rather an extinct genus of mollusc from the early Jurassic, 200 million years ago (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). Nail clippings were not the only features observed that people considered to be a sign of the Devil’s unholy pilgrimage. Devilish hoof-shaped steps embedded into stone have been reported throughout the world. Referred to as ‘il-passi tax-xitan’ by the Maltese, meaning ‘the devil's footsteps’, these tracks were considered further proof of the Devil's presence amongst mankind (Duffin & Davidson, 2011). In Malta these footprints were really just fossilised echinoids - innocent former sea urchins facing unkind accusations of being demonic (Duffin & Davidson, 2011). That's not to say all Maltese fossils were considered unholy: some 16th century priests conversely believed them to be the footsteps of St Paul the Apostle, following his shipwrecking on the island in the 1st century (Mayor & Sarjeant, 2001). Dragons Dragons are some of the most well known mythical creatures, with many cultures around the world having their own rendition of a mystic dragon-like beast. Unlike some of the other legends explored so far, it is unlikely that fossilised remains were the initial cause of this myth, but were rather used as evidence to cement it in truth. Dragons were considered prominent creatures throughout the Indian mountains, with evidence of dragon hunts being displayed in the ancient city of Paraka (Mayor, 2000). Apollonius of Tyana, a 1st century Greek philosopher, was said to have observed these dragons during his passage through the Siwalik Hills - an Indian range known for its preservation of larger fossils (Mayor, 2000). Described by Apollonius as considerable tusked creatures, these dragon remains were more than likely the fossils of extinct elephants and giraffids - such as Elephas hysudricus or Sivatherium giganteum (Mayor, 2000). India is not the only country to have experienced this phenomenon either, with many Asian and European societies said to have also continuously misdiagnose large vertebrate fossils as dragon bones. Whether it is mischievous spellcasting or the indication of a demonic evil, myths surrounding fossils have existed throughout centuries of human society. These legends provide a fascinating window into the creative minds of past cultures, and their beliefs at the time. While modern palaeontologists have proven these legends to be no more than captivating stories, it is important to view this folklore with a certain understanding and respect. These early attempts at trying to understand the world around us provides an interesting insight into human nature, and our innate desire to search for answers. References American Museum of Natural History. (n.d.) End of the Line - The demise of the Trilobites . American Museum of Natural History. https://www.amnh.org/research/paleontology/collections/fossil-invertebrate-collection/trilobite-website/trilobite-localities/end-of-the-line-the-demise-of-the-trilobites Berthault, G. (2002). Analysis of Main Principles of Stratigraphy on the Basis of Experimental Data . Lithology and Mineral Resources, 22(5), 442-446. https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1020220232661 Boudreau, D., McDaniel, M., Sprout, E., & Turgeon, A. (2023). Paleontology . National Geographic Society. https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/paleontology/ British Geological Survey (n.d.). Trilobites . https://www.bgs.ac.uk/discovering-geology/fossilsand-geological-time/trilobites/ Duffin, C. J., & Davidson, J. P. (2011). Geology and the dark side . Proceedings of the Geologists’ Association, 122(1), 7-15. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pgeola.2010.08.002 Forli, M., & Guerrini, A. (2022). Bivalvia: Devil’s Nails, Reflections Between Superstition and Science. In The History of Fossils Over Centuries (pp. 181-206). Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-04687-2_2 Forli, M., & Guerrini, A. (2022). Fossilia and Fossils: Considerations on Their Understanding Over the Centuries . In The History of Fossils Over Centuries (pp. 5-25). Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-04687-2_12 Lotzof, K. (n.d.). Snakestones: The Myth, Magic, and Science of Ammonites . Natural History Museum. https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/snakestones-ammonites-myth-magic-science.html Mayor, A. (2000). CHAPTER 3 Ancient Discoveries of Giant Bones . In The First Fossil Hunters (pp. 104-156). Princeton University Press. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7s6mm.11 Mayor, A., & Sarjeant, W.A.S. (2001). The Folklore of Footprints in Stone: From Classical Antiquity to the Present . An International Journal for Plant and Animal Traces, 8(2), 143-163. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7s6mm.11 Migdol, E., Morrison, E., & Grollemond, L. (2021). What Did People Believe about Animals in the Middle Ages? Getty Conservation Institute. https://www.getty.edu/news/what-did-people-believe-about-animals-in-the-middle-ages/ National Museums Scotland (n.d.). Snakestones . https://www.nms.ac.uk/explore-our- collections/stories/natural-sciences/fossil-tales/fossil-tales-menu/snakestones/ Osterloff, E. (n.d.). What Is an Ammonite? Natural History Museum. https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/what-is-an-ammonite.html P550303. (2009). British Geological Survey . http://geoscenic.bgs.ac.uk/asset- bank/action/viewAsset?id=113713&index=4&total=6&view=viewSearchItem Scott, M. (2008). William Smith (1769-1839) . NASA Earth Observatory. https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/features/WilliamSmith Wicked back to

< Back to Issue 6 Out of our element by Serenie Tsai 28 May 2024 Edited by Luci Ackland Illustrated by Louise Cen A land teeming with lush forestry and fresh air seems like a far reach from the current state of the world. Not too long ago, this was Earth’s reality. However, with the onset of industrialisation, and the subsequent exploitation of our natural resources, our environment rapidly deteriorated. We polluted our atmosphere and contaminated our waterways with oil and debris. Not only did we pose a threat to human health, we also risked the safety of our future. Experimenting with elements Not long after the Industrial Revolution, the use of nuclear energy arose as an alternative to fossil fuel to combat climate change. Society’s view on nuclear energy became contentious when the largest nuclear disaster to date occurred in Chernobyl in 1986. The explosion of the nuclear reaction caused hundreds to be afflicted by Acute radiation syndrome and many died within a few weeks from this disease (World Nuclear Association, 2022). Following the accident, a 30-kilometre exclusion zone around the power plant was enforced to prevent further contamination to humans. Yet unexpectedly, forest coverage has since increased 1.5 times over (Matsala et al., 2021). In the absence of humans, wildlife appears to be flourishing—in particular, grey wolves are thriving and have become the top predator in the exclusion zone (Itoh, 2018). There remains a lack of research surrounding the long-term implications of radiation on the health of wildlife (Itoh, 2018), good and bad. The negative effects of radiation are evident in the increase of cases of tumour growth and deformed beaks and claws in local birds (Itoh, 2018). The local flora were also negatively impacted with tree rings during the period of the incident indicating that radiation caused a reduction in tree growth (Mousseau et al., 2013). Natural disasters becoming more disastrous Similarly, the impacts of industrialisation have become especially discernible with the increasing severity of natural disasters; effects of which have been further compounded by climate change. Human activities such as the consumption of fossil fuels has played an overwhelming role in the increase of global temperatures, leading to more extreme weather conditions (Wuebbles & Jain, 2001, Nema et al., 2012). These higher temperatures have consequently amplified the intensity of droughts and fire seasons (Liu et al., 2010). Air pollution levels into some areas cause citizens to be perpetually smothered by smoke. Nature’s takeover As the foundation of Earth, nature has the capacity to reclaim areas that humans once inhabited. In Houtouwan, China, a once-thriving fishing village has now been overrun by vegetation. Almost every inch of the village has been camouflaged by vegetation—only mere silhouettes of the buildings remain amongst the greenery. It makes sense that an open area combined with abundant rain and shine would give way to overgrown vegetation; yet a Banyan tree elsewhere in China managed to slowly take root through even just the cracks of a brick floor. In Bangkok, a half-demolished shopping mall is now an oasis for aquatic life. This did not happen of its own accord; the mall was abandoned when it failed local regulations and was then flooded during monsoon season. Locals then introduced fish to prevent insects from breeding in stagnant waters and it has been flourishing ever since. Life is nothing without nature, yet there is a fine line between using nature’s resources for greater good or using it to our demise. There is a dire need to regulate the use of our finite resources. Nature thrives in abandoned places and has the potential to overcome human-inflicted disasters and outlive humanity. References Itoh, M. (2018). Wildlife in the Exclusion Zone in Chernobyl . 177–187. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-70757-0_11 Liu, Y., Stanturf, J., & Goodrick, S. (2010). Trends in global wildfire potential in a changing climate. Forest Ecology and Management , 259 (4), 685–697. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.foreco.2009.09.002 Matsala, M., Bilous, A., Myroniuk, V., Holiaka, D., Schepaschenko, D., See, L., & Kraxner, F. (2021). The Return of Nature to the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone: Increases in Forest Cover of 1.5 Times since the 1986 Disaster. Forests , 12 (8), 1024. https://doi.org/10.3390/f12081024 Mousseau, T. A., Welch, S. M., Chizhevsky, I., Bondarenko, O., Milinevsky, G., Tedeschi, D. J., Bonisoli-Alquati, A., & Møller, A. P. (2013). Tree rings reveal extent of exposure to ionizing radiation in Scots pine Pinus sylvestris. Trees , 27 (5), 1443–1453. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00468-013-0891-z Nema, P., Nema, S., & Roy, P. (2012). An overview of global climate changing in current scenario and mitigation action. Renewable and Sustainable Energy Reviews , 16 (4), 2329–2336. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.rser.2012.01.044 World Nuclear Association. (2022). Chernobyl Accident 1986 . World Nuclear Association. https://world-nuclear.org/information-library/safety-and-security/safety-of-plants/chernobyl-accident.aspx Wuebbles, D. J., & Jain, A. K. (2001). Concerns about Climate Change and the Role of Fossil Fuel Use. Fuel Processing Technology , 71 (1-3), 99–119. ScienceDirect. https://doi.org/10.1016/s0378-3820(01)00139-4 Previous article Next article Elemental back to

By Mia Horsfall < Back to Issue 3 AI and a notion of 'artificial humanity' By Mia Horsfall 10 September 2022 Edited by Breana Galea and Andrew Lim Illustrated by Matthew Duffy Next In the cradle of the day, a girl blinks to life. The sun is cool, still crouched beyond the trees, waiting for its cue to take centre-stage. Knees and knobs and spokes and all, she struggles to stand in the grass, furrowing her toes into the Earth for traction. Clean, unmarked and without memories, she looks to the sky with contentment, unaware of the work ahead. The notion of “Artificial” Intelligence is an interesting way to describe the vast and variegated mechanisms it encompasses. Not only does it pre-suppose the existence of “intelligence” within these machines, but it implies the existence of some antithetical “natural” intelligence. The term itself is a dichotomy, simultaneously alienating and connecting AI to humans. This poses some significant moral and ethical dilemmas that are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. As the advent of AI becomes more intricately interwoven with mundane happenings, we are forced to grapple with the seemingly unanswerable question: At what point does “Artificial” Intelligence become indistinguishable from “Authentic” Intelligence? With the advent of Artificial Intelligence, public opinion surrounding the role AI should and does occupy has undergone dramatic alterations. Films and books such as “Her” (2013) and “Klara and the Sun” (2021) have explored the implications of assimilation of AI with humanity. In both pieces, AI transcends the purely utilitarian role originally defined and progresses into emotional connections with human counter-parts. It stands to reason that if these AI can enter and engage in emotionally significant relationships in the same capacity as humans, what exactly does the distinction between human and machine become? In order to define what AI is, we should first come to a conclusion of what it means to be human. So why is it so important to arrive at a definition of humanity in considering the ethics of AI inclusion in society? Well, as Hauskeller points out ‘the term ‘human’ is not primarily used to refer to a particular kind of entity...it implies a particular moral status’ (Hauskeller, 2009). That is, a subject is assigned a higher moral value in its assignment as ‘human’ and a purely physical application of the word would result in little distinction between us and other species. ‘A meaning of the word is a kind of employment of it’ (Wittgenstein, 1953), suggesting meanings and the terms to describe them are co-dependent and self-referential. Hence what it means to be ‘human’ is directly aligned with what subjects are assigned such a title. But arriving at a definition for “human” is no easy task. Philosophers and scientists have debated what constitutes the term human with little success, the definition changing across historical periods. In order to demonstrate the transient nature of the term ‘human’, a comparative analysis of definitions across historical periods provides a comprehensive overview of the dynamism that defines humankind. Hauskeller contends that any given definition of ‘human’ is ‘persuasive’. That is, each attempt ‘implicitly or explicitly claims to be of prime significance for the way we ought to lead our lives’ (Haukeller, 2009). By nature of the fact there exists multiple definitions of what characterises humanity, it can be inferred ideals of human society are themselves transient. For instance, Plato contends intelligence prevails above every aspect of human nature (White, 2013) as it is ‘the only part of himself which he does not share with the animal kingdom’ (Plato, referenced in White 2013). Whilst this definition may appear simplistic or constrictive, it is also not intrinsically wrong, merely indicative of the era in which it was formulated. Kant expounds upon the need to define ‘humanity’ asserting that any definition of an individual in isolation from a collective is futile and insufficient. Rather, it is only the ability ‘to treat himself and others according to the principle of freedom under the laws’ (Kant, referenced in Cohen, 2008) that defines humanity. In essence, it is only in relation to others that individuals may exist as human, congruent with Cohen’s assertion that ‘the study of the other is the yardstick by which men measure their own common humanity’ (Cohen, 2008). Heidegger adopts a markedly different approach in his ‘Being and time’, recognising the fluidity of human nature and creating Dasein who Oleson asserts is ‘the being of a human being, understood as the being that is concerned with being itself’ (Oleson, 2013), embodying the definition of humanity through a representation of the history of being (Oleson, 2013). Dasein exists as ‘the connection between historicality and temporality’ (Heidegger, 1927), and in this way, Heidegger seeks to define humanity by means of its instability. From these hugely variegated definitions of what constitutes the state of being human, it becomes clear we are unlikely to determine one singular, immutable definition of what it is to be human. Hence, it is difficult to have a constant point of comparison to see whether AI has “surpassed” its limits and transcended into some form of humanity. But with the increasing capabilities of AI, it stands to reason there be provisions in place in both law and politics to account not only for the implications of AI upon humanity, but for the representation of AI and its potential forms. Even if this representation or legislation is aspirational, it stands to reason there be policies in place, as various machine learning figures become more and more prominent in society and culture. At the end of the day, the girl stands cemented in her place. The line between her arms and the cogs she operates is indistinguishable amongst the black haze of smoke. In a town not too far from here, children kiss their mothers good night and fall asleep. But here, in this place, with this grime, she stands cold and unfeeling, the sky obscured by the machinery above. Previous article Next article alien back to