< Back to Issue 2 The Evolution of Science Communication In the current age of social media, users hold far more autonomy over the posts and information which they share online. However, this was not always the case, with the media once being far more regulated, and restricted for only certain individuals. With users now having far more power over content posted online, how does this impact the information which others receive about the COVID-19 pandemic? by Monica Blasioli 10 December 2021 Edited by Khoa-Anh Tran & Yen Sim Illustrated by Rachel Ko Trigger warning: This article mentions illness, and death or dying. Since the beginning of the pandemic in March 2020, science communication has started to evolve in ways never before seen across the globe. There appears to be an endless amount of infographics, Facebook posts, and YouTube and TikTok videos… including some with dancing doctors. Information not only about the COVID-19 virus, but countless diseases and scientific concepts, is available in more casual, accessible language at only the touch of a button. Any questions which you might have about science or your body can be answered through a quick Google search. In this sense, science communication is now far more rapid, as well as more accessible than in research papers (which always seem like they are written in a foreign language at times). However, the downside of having vast amounts of information available is that it can create challenges in determining the validity of what is being presented. In previous years, science communication was typically limited to the more typical forms of media, such as in a newspaper or a magazine, or even through a television interview. These were typically completed by professionals in the field, such as a research scientist or a medical doctor. When looking at the 1920 Influenza outbreak, many citizens at that time would have received their information from printed newspapers and posters on bulletin boards, as seen below. Image 1, [1] Somewhat similar to today's age, there were signs displaying the importance of mask-wearing, and newspapers explaining the closures of schools and shops, the distribution of vaccines, and reports of death rates. These messages were, and still are, created and approved by larger institutions, governments and medical professionals, particularly doctors. As seen on the (left / right / below / above), doctors are urging people to not become complacent, despite a recent drop in influenza cases. This is rather similar to current newspaper or television news reports - only in reference to COVID-19, instead of influenza. Image 2, [2] There were, of course, still groups which were uncertain about the scientific evidence being provided by journalists, doctors and government officials at this time. In November of 1918, it was declared that “the epidemic of [influenza] disease is practically over,” with mask laws being relaxed. However, only a few days later, the previous mask laws were reintroduced with a spike in Influenza cases. As unpacked in Dr Dolan’s research [3], the “Anti-Mask League” formed and protested in response to this back track, claiming that masks were unsanitary, unnecessary, and stifling their freedom. As this was during the early 20th century, the league advertised their protests in local newspapers, with reports that hundreds of San Francisco residents were fined for not abiding by mask rules, often due to their alliance with the Anti-Mask League. The San Francisco Anti-Mask League is one of the most renowned and infamous groups of its time, with smaller-scale groups also questioning the science being communicated. This type of conflicting information surrounding mask issues, and the opinion that they restrict personal freedoms, have incited similar responses throughout history. However, resistance by anti-mask groups has not existed on such an influential and global scale, as it has during the current COVID-19 pandemic. With the rise of the age of “new media,” including platforms such as Instagram and Facebook, individuals now have far more autonomy over their role in the media, meaning that they yield a lot more power over the information others are receiving. Almost anybody can interpret scientific material online and upload it in a video of them dancing to some music on TikTok, spreading information to potentially hundreds of thousands of viewers across the globe. In many ways this new found autonomy and power can be quite beneficial. Australian Doctor Imogen Hines uses her platform on TikTok, alongside her medical education and current scientific research, to break down medical treatments and mistruths, particularly surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic. These videos use simple language and straight-forward analogies, “humanising” the often intimidating figures in the medical field, and allowing the general public to be well-informed about scientific concepts. For example, Dr Imogen breaks down the research surrounding long term side effects of vaccines using a milkshake analogy! https://www.tiktok.com/@imi_imogen1/video/7027448207823211777?is_copy_url=1&is_from_webapp=v1&lang=en On the other hand, this phenomenon can have pretty serious ramifications, with many individuals feeling rightfully confused about what the truth really is, when there appears to be so many versions of it posted across the internet. Following a rather controversial study on Ivermectin as a treatment for COVID-19, the internet was soon buzzing with excitement about the prospect of a drug that many believed could replace the need for a vaccine. Despite numerous gaps in the original study, and countless further studies refuting Invermectin’s ability to treat COVID-19, many social media users are continuing to spread this myth online. Both governments and hospitals alike have been accused of hiding a seemingly “good” cure from their citizens. In Texas, a group of doctors won a legal case which allowed Texas Huguley Hospital to refuse administering Ivermectin to a COVID-19 infected Deputy Sheriff. This sparked outrage on Facebook, with users and the Sheriff’s wife demanding greater freedoms over their medical treatments, instead of just relying on the judgement of doctors and hospital staff. In this instance, the misinformation surrounding Ivermectin is not only influencing individuals to seek out futile treatments, but it is also spreading mistrust with the science and medical communities, who work incredibly hard to protect the world, particularly over the past two years. Despite Ivermectin being used in a clinical setting to treat parasitic (not viral) infections in humans for a number of years now, it can be extremely dangerous for individuals to have complete power over their medical treatments. The dosage and timing of treatment is crucial in ensuring success. Just like with everyday medications such as paracetamol, taking Ivermectin in high doses is risky. A COVID-19 infected woman from Sydney who read about Ivermectin on social media took a very high dosage of the drug after purchasing it from an online seller, which resulted in severe diarrhea and vomiting. In order to combat some of this misinformation, a number of social media platforms are “fact checking” posts or providing warnings on posts with keywords, such as ‘COVID-19’ or ‘vaccination.’ On Instagram, each post with these keywords will contain a banner at the bottom inviting users to visit their “COVID-19 Information Centre,” which provides a list of information supported by WHO and UNICEF about how vaccines are of high-standard, well-researched, and generally resulting in mild side effects. In addition, on Facebook, posts identified to be spreading mistruths will provide users with websites explaining the truth, before they can access the original posts. However, these warnings and fact-checks can only go so far. Posts blindly supporting the use of Ivermectin, falsely reporting side effects of vaccines, and arguing that masks cannot block virus particles still circulate the internet. Often those most vulnerable in the community are at risk of being led astray with misinformation. In principle, evidence-based, concise, easy-to-understand science communication is essential to break down the barrier between research and the general public, ensuring that citizens are well-informed and more comfortable about the world around them. In the situation of a public health crisis such as the COVID-19 pandemic, this communication is crucial in ensuring that all citizens can remain well-informed, safe and healthy. Misinformation and dodgy studies can not only lead people astray, but also cost them their health and wellbeing. References: 1. Kathleen McGarvey, “Historian John Barry compares COVID-19 to the 1918 flu pandemic,” University of Rochester, October 6, 2020. https://www.rochester.edu/newscenter/historian-john-barry-compares-covid-19-to-1918-flu-pandemic-454732/ 2. Kathleen McGarvey, “Historian John Barry compares COVID-19 to the 1918 flu pandemic,” University of Rochester, October 6, 2020. https://www.rochester.edu/newscenter/historian-john-barry-compares-covid-19-to-1918-flu-pandemic-454732/ 3. Brian Dolan, Unmasking History: Who Was Behind the Anti-Mask League Protests During the 1918 Influenza Epidemic in San Francisco? Perspectives in Medical Humanities (San Francisco: UC Medical Humanities Consortium, 2020) Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 2 Spirituality and Science Science is limited by the philosophies which govern it. Common thinking is that science is a rigid, cold and largely academic field which sneers at the domain of spirituality. I posit that one must move beyond this point of view in order to do good science, and to find the true aims and values of the discipline. by Hamish Payne 10 December 2021 Edited by Irene Yonsuh Lee & Khoa-Anh Tran Illustrated by Quynh Anh Nguyen When I was fifteen, I thought that I could thwart my English teacher. He had given us homework that was simple enough; discuss with our families whether true altruism exists. I did not have this discussion with my household but instead hosted the debate in my head, coming to a measured conclusion. However, the privacy of my argumentation showed the next day when my teacher asked me to share. He immediately suggested that I had only been thinking by myself and had not welcomed others into my discussion. This is not my most interesting story, but it did teach me something important: every thought that I have had contains traces of me. Even when I am fiercely debating contrary viewpoints on a subject, even when I am having my most dissonant thoughts, it is my own voice against which I argue. Whenever I have drawn my pen across the page, I have been leaving my fingerprints in the ink. At the time, these traces of me made me very uncomfortable. I have always heard that the beauty in science is that it does not matter if it is considered in isolation or in consultation with others; its facts and its theorems are invariant. This vision of science as a haven for unchanging logic was popularised by Descartes. For the cartesian, the body is split from nature, allowing one to consider the latter more sterilely. But the mind is also split from the body, and our talents, ambitions and passions are split apart in our minds. This thinking for centuries has spurred enormous strides forward in physical technology and has made humanity feel in control of our environment largely because the cartesian divide heralds natural determinism wherein each phenomenon has a direct and exploitable cause[1]. However, there is no room for individual expression in the Cartesian framework – no place for perception, experience, or spirituality. Though my retelling is likely apocryphal, the story of Galileo serves in my mind as a symbol of this divide. From the instant Galileo sought to place the sun at the centre of our solar system, he toppled the heavens and was thus persecuted by the purveyors of spirituality. The persecution of both the scientist and his heliocentric principle barred faith and belief from the scientific process and hence placed reason and logic at its centre. Yet it should not be forgotten that the clergy of the Roman Inquisition paid Galileo in kind and forbad the scientist a spirit. But what are the consequences of taking such a divided view of nature? When I hear people talk about scientists today, they treat the scientist not as someone who lives but as someone who develops rules about life. Scientists must never strive for innate beauty, but for inert truth, guided by cold logic – even Oscar Wilde wrote that “the advantage of science is that it is emotionless”[2]. As a continuation of Galileo being branded apostate, the scientist has been stripped of the right to ambiguity in his explanations, and uncertainty in his world view. If science is not complete, it is deemed a failure. But this is ludicrous. Any scientist must know and accept that the cartesian split neglects certain aspects of the world – those properties of a system which emerge only when all its parts are combined. Moreover, nature still eludes science on a very deep level. For example, there is still no widely accepted philosophical explanation of quantum mechanics, no ability to predict the chaotic flow of a surging river, no profound understanding of the synchronisation of heart cells. Science is so woefully incomplete and incapable of dealing with the sheer scale of disorder in the world that most real-world systems must undergo several fundamental simplifications to be modelled, lest they take years to understand. And when things are cut apart, it becomes even more difficult to stitch them back into the complete picture. Then what remains of the aims of science if it is only an imitation of nature – a painting with no colours, shadows on the wall? When I ask myself this question, I find Feynman’s words echo back in my head: doing science is no more than thinking about “the inconceivable nature of nature”[3]. Science seeks to connect us with nature. It is not about disassembling it and organising it, splitting it into more and more isolated pieces, but about marvelling at the whole system, attempting to let it all sit in your mind - to look at the dancing shadows and understand what is casting them, enjoying the dance all the same. Likewise, in his book, Nonlinear Dynamics and Chaos, Steven Strogatz humorously lists life under the list of unexplored scientific domains[4]. He does not relegate, however, science to its usual, removed, and sterilised place in this. Instead, he suggests that nature is so complex, that one cannot help but marvel at it with no real hope of controlling or quantifying it. I argue that these two scientists are just as much talking about what it means to be spiritual as scientific. To be spiritual is to try relentlessly to understand our life and our world and their relationship, even as they mercurially shift and change. Simply put, spirituality arises from a profound connection with nature. For example, the unity of the mind and the natural world is the bedrock of Eastern mysticism. The discipline seeks to connect the two through considered meditation and direly avoids their division. Such is highlighted by the Buddhist philosopher Asvaghosha; “When the mind is disturbed, the multiplicity of things is produced, but when the mind is quieted, the multiplicity of things disappears.” Western religions similarly connect nature and the spirit. Polytheistic traditions like the ancient Greek and Roman ascribe to their gods an element of the world each to control. The communication of the individual with a god is thus the interaction of the individual with the natural world. Similarly, the God of Judaism, Christianity and Islam is often present in awesome acts of nature. Particularly in the oldest parts of the Bible, God is seen to communicate through natural disasters and great floods and great fish and plagues and pestilences. Whilst I must admit that this analysis is somewhat superficial, it certainly illustrates the place nature holds deep in our minds and mythology. In an overwhelming number of cases, nature begets spirituality. Science is likewise born of nature and, for me at least, is therefore spiritual. But the value in reclassifying science as something spiritual as well as logical is not argumentation for naught. The scientist who is spiritual and fully connected with nature is better equipped than any. Guarding the connection between the individual and nature as sacred allows us to question our world on a more fundamental, truer level. Take as an example a question I hear often in my studies of physics: “Why is this theorem true?” Whilst it sounds reasonable enough, this type of question leads its asker down a reductionistic rabbit hole, in pitting mathematics against nature. Instead of seeing mathematics as a tool to describe nature, nature is seen as a product of mathematics. The rich physical world is reduced into rigidly true or false statements when we know such dichotomies are severely inept in the real world. Perhaps the scientist who is more holistically, spiritually connected with nature would be prompted to ask instead: “How true is this theorem to the world?” One does not have to look far to see how this subtle shift in approach to science can be incredibly successful. A fundamental principle of quantum physics states that matter is simultaneously particle-like and wave-like. This ambiguity in physical explanation, which would not be allowed from a cartesian point of view, is acceptable because it matches completely what is observed rather than attempting to reduce nature into the language of mathematics. Werner Heisenberg even wrote that “we cannot speak about atoms in ordinary language”, demonstrating the need for scientific holism. Approaching scientific discovery from a spiritual perspective allows us to move beyond the constraints of a reductive language. Likewise, studying science increases our spiritual relationship with nature. Albert Camus, perhaps rather unknowingly, said much the same thing in his unpublished novel, La Mort Heureuse. The protagonist, Mersault, on the brink of his death, says of the red, sunset clouds: “When I was young, my mother told me that [the clouds] were the souls of the dead who were travelling to Heaven. I was amazed that my soul was red. Now I know that it’s more likely the promise of wind. But that’s just as marvelous.”[5] What is spiritual is natural. Intellectual curiosity is rooted in the physical world, even as it changes and develops, becomes completely chaotic and throws more and more unanswerable questions in our faces. Science persists not because it seeks to provide answers to all of life’s questions, but because it provokes the mind into deeper questioning and, in that, deeper connection with nature and its ineffable, uncapturable beauty. The most marvellous thing about taking this perspective is that the science I do becomes more personal and ignites a stronger passion. I no longer must worry about the traces of myself; they are a necessary part of my understanding of the world and have shown me that, although science is “emotionless” in its methodology, it should not be so in its execution. Science is not spiritual because it precludes knowledge that is born from blind faith, but because it pushes knowledge to somewhere that is deeply human and that is beyond faith. References: [1] Fritjof Capra. 2000. The Tao of Physics : An Exploration of the Parallels between Modern Physics and Eastern Mysticism. 35th Anniversary Edition. Boston: Shambhala. [2] Wilde, Oscar. (1890) 2018. The Picture of Dorian Gray. New York, Ny: Olive Editions. [3] Feynman, Richard. 1983. “Fun to Imagine with Richard Feynman.” Documentary. BBC. [4] Strogatz, Steven H. (2014) 2019. Nonlinear Dynamics and Chaos : With Applications to Physics, Biology, Chemistry, and Engineering. Second. Boca Raton: Crc Press. [5] Camus, Albert. (1971) 2010. La Mort Hereuse. Paris: Gallimard. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 2 Hidden Worlds: a peek into the nanoscale using helium ion microscopy How do scientists know what happens at scales smaller than you can see using an optical microscope? One exciting method is the helium ion microscope which can be used to view cells, crystals and specially engineered materials with extreme detail, revealing the beauty that exists at scales too small to imagine! by Erin Grant 10 December 2021 Edited by Jessica Nguy and Hamish Payne Illustrated by Erin Grant The room is white, with three smooth walls and a fourth containing a small sample prep bench and high shelves. In the centre is a desk with three monitors. Next to it, occupying most of the space, is the microscope. Eight feet tall, a few feet wide, resting on an isolated floor surrounded by caution tape; “NO STEP” written in big block letters. Wires protrude from its tiered shape in orderly chaos. It is a clean, technological space; we are ready to explore science. A colleague and I are at the Materials Characterisation and Fabrication Platform of the University of Melbourne to finish off the last steps of a scientific paper I’ve been working on for many years. What I need, as the icing on the cake, is an image. What does my sample look like way down there, at the nanometre scale? Objects that are only nanometres in size are very hard to imagine when we’re used to thinking about metres, centimetres, or maybe even millimetres. We can see those length scales; they are part of our everyday. So, if you’re told that proteins have a diameter of a few nanometres, what does that mean? Well, to be precise, a nanometre is one-billionth of a metre. A human hair, the go-to yardstick for describing small things, has a width between 0.05-0.1 millimetres, which means that if you wanted to slice a hair into nanometre-wide strands you’d end up with nearly 100,000 pieces. Unfortunately, that’s still hard to visualise, but I’ve found that when working with and thinking about scales like this every day, you gain a sort of mental landscape that small things occupy, perhaps not entirely in context, but a space that contains an overall ‘vibe’ of smallness. I first noticed this when I worked in a laboratory that studies the tiny nematode worm C. elegans. These creatures are half a millimetre long, so although they are clearly visible to the naked eye, you need a microscope if you want to use them for science. After looking at these tiny creatures under magnification for many weeks, I came to recognise a feeling almost like being underwater. Upon putting my eyes to the lens, my focus would change from the macroscopic world around me, to one of minutiae. This change in perspective was quite immersive, I almost felt like I was inhabiting that small petri dish too. Working with samples even smaller than that now, I have carried some of that mental landscape with me. It now feels commonplace to imagine tiny systems, such as crystals or molecules which were once foreign. Much of this ability to visualise small things comes from the fact that in many cases, we can actually see them too. Physics has given us many tools with which we can peer into the smallest systems that exist. Helium ion microscopy, which I have come here to carry out, is one such technique. Dr Anders Barlow runs the helium ion microscope (HIM) at this facility. He warmly welcomes me and my colleague into the quiet room and jumps straight into an enthusiastic explanation of the machine – he can tell we’re not just here for some pictures, we want to know the inner workings of the microscope too. The HIM is a bit like the more mature surveyor of minuscule worlds: the electron microscope. While a regular optical microscope uses light to illuminate a sample, the electron microscope uses electrons. When they collide with the sample these electrons can bounce off or lose energy through several mechanisms. The lost energy can go into heat or light, but more usefully, the energy might be transferred to other electrons in the sample, called secondary electrons, ejecting them like a drill removing rocks from a quarry. The secondary electrons can be detected at each point across the sample as the beam is scanned over its surface. If more electrons are detected, then the pixel at that point is brighter compared to areas where there are fewer electrons. This tells you about the topography or composition of the sample at that point on its surface and provides a grayscale image. The HIM works in the same way, but it can generate sharper images because helium ions are heavier than electrons. This is important because the increased resolution of electron and helium ion microscopes is enabled by their quantum mechanical properties - namely the particle’s wavelength. You may have heard about the wave-like nature of light, which is a basic property of quantum mechanics. Particles also have a wavelength, called the de Broglie wavelength, which is inversely proportional to their mass - the heavier the particle, the shorter the wavelength. Having a shorter wavelength allows smaller details to be resolved because of a pesky phenomenon called diffraction. Diffraction occurs when a wave encounters a gap that is of the same or smaller width to its wavelength. When this happens, the wave that emerges on the other side will be spread out. You can think of the features that you want to image as being similar to gaps, so when light, or a particle, interacts with features that are very close together it will spread out, making those features blurry or even invisible. But if you can ensure that the wavelength is smaller than whatever feature you want to see, diffraction will not occur. Interestingly, physicists can actually take advantage of diffraction, and another phenomenon called interference, when they study periodic structures like crystals, but that’s a different article! So, because the de Broglie wavelength is very short for particles with mass, like electrons, an electron microscope can generate images of higher resolution than an optical microscope. Likewise, helium ions are even heavier than electrons because they are composed of one electron, two protons, and two neutrons. This makes them about 7,000 times heavier than a single electron (electrons are very light compared to protons and neutrons!) and consequently the images they can make are very sharp. With our samples ready, lab manager Anders loads my sample into the microscope and begins lowering the pressure in its internal chamber. Having a high vacuum – approximately a billion times lower than atmospheric pressure – is essential because it prevents air from interfering with the helium beam. Making the beam is perhaps the most miraculous part of this technological feat. At the very top of the microscope’s column, there’s a tiny filament shaped like a needle. Not like a needle, in fact, it is the sharpest needle we humans can make. To achieve this, the point is shaped by first extreme heat, and then some extreme voltages until the very tip is composed of only three atoms, reverently referred to as the trimer. Once the trimer has been formed, a high voltage is applied to the needle, resulting in an extreme electric field around the tip. Next, helium gas is introduced into the chamber and individual helium atoms are attracted towards the region of the high electric field. The field is so strong that it strips each helium atom of one electron, ionising it, and these now positively charged ions are repelled from each of the three atoms in the trimer as three corresponding beams. Using sophisticated focusing fields down the length of the column allows Anders to choose only one of the beams for imaging; we are creating a picture using a beam only one atom wide! Generating such a precise beam requires constant maintenance, but once Anders is satisfied with how it looks today, he begins scanning over a large area for what we’ve come to find: tiny proteins stuck to a diamond. In an experimental PhD, you often find yourself answering small incremental questions and today I want to know how well I’ve attached these proteins to my diamond and what the coverage looks like. Other measures have told me that I probably have a lot of them, but the best way to know is to have a look! That’s what Anders does for researchers at the university; he helps us find out whether we have done a good job putting things together or coming up with new techniques. This is something he loves about his job. “I love the exposure I get to many areas of science,” he says, “Imaging of all forms is ubiquitous in research, and the HIM is applicable to most fields, so we see samples from materials science, polymers, nanomaterials, and biomaterials, through to medical technologies and devices, to cell and tissue biology of human, plant and animal origin. I never get tired of seeing what new specimens may come through the lab door.” Unfortunately, the first images we see are very dark and washed out, like a photograph taken in low-light; not many secondary electrons are making it to the detector. To combat this, Anders uses a flood gun to stop charge build up on the surface of the diamond. When the helium ions create secondary electrons, they are ejected from the surface at low speeds. As electrons are negatively charged, the bombarded surface, which now lacks electrons, will become positive and the low energy secondary electrons will be attracted back to the surface instead of making it to the detector. In an electron microscope this is avoided by coating insulators, such as my diamond, with a conductive material like gold. If the surface is conductive, the positive charge that is left behind by the secondary electrons will be offset by electrons from the metallic coating that can flow towards the sudden appearance of positive charges. In this case, the ejected electrons can escape and be detected. However, a coating like this would reduce the resolution of the image; if you want to measure proteins that are twelve nanometres high, but you put a three-nanometre coating over them, you’ll lose a lot of the resolution! To get around this, the HIM uses the flood gun, which lightly sprays the surface with electrons of low energy as the helium beam passes over. This neutralises the surface and lets the secondary electrons escape in the same way as having a conductive layer. Once Anders turns on the flood gun, the contrast increases, allowing us to zoom in on a small region of the diamond, and there they are! Thousands of spherical proteins arranged neatly across the surface, only twelve nanometres in diameter. The sight is spectacular, only one try and we got what we came for. I am three years into a PhD and I’ve become very used to the feeling of disappointment that can accompany new experimental techniques. Things rarely work out the first time around, so to see those little spheres straight away was magical. Dotted across the diamond surface is another, extra, gem. To keep protein nice and happy, you must prepare it in a salty solution. So, when the protein was deposited, some regular table salt, NaCl, came too. We can see this salt in our images as crystals in two distinctive and very beautiful patterns which you can see in the images below. Protein on the surface of my diamond. Each small pale circle is one of these spherical proteins. The first image shows a large creeping pattern, reminiscent of snowflakes or tree roots, which spreads its soft fingers across several hundred nanometres. These crystals have taken on an amorphous pattern, where the crystal structure is broken up rather than being one continuous arrangement of the atoms. The second pattern however, shown in the right image, is what a continuous NaCl crystal looks like. When large enough crystals can form without becoming amorphous they look like precise cubes of various sizes all strewn about. One of my favourite aspects about looking at very small things, is how the patterns you see often mirror those at much larger scales. Look at a fingerprint and you’ll find mountains and valleys, or the roots of a tree and you’ll see a river system. Salt (NaCl) can take on a highly ordered structure shown by the cubic crystals (left) or an amorphous pattern similar in shape to tree roots (right). The astonishing images we get from this single session are all in a day’s work for Anders. He has imaged numerous kinds of cells on all manner of interesting substrates, patterned surfaces covered in needle-like protrusions, and many kinds of man-made materials. Today, there are vials on his prep-bench which, at first glance, look much like jars of hair. However, they are not hair, in fact they are strands of carbon fibre covered in various coatings, awaiting examination. ‘What are your favourite types of samples to look at?’ I want to know. “Cell biology is fascinating,” he says. “We’ve imaged red blood cells, pancreatic cells, stem cells, and various bacterial cells in this microscope. Most often researchers are interested in cell life and death, and the HIM assists by providing high resolution images of the structure and surface topography of the cell membrane.” Recently however, Anders has been helping researchers look at polymer materials for water filtration. “These are hierarchical porous structures, meaning they’re engineered to have pore sizes that vary through the membrane. It is stunning to see the materials at low magnification with large pores, and as we zoom in and in and in, to see new pore sizes become visible at each level, like a material engineered with a fractal quality.” One of the unique things about the HIM, Anders reminds me, is that it’s not just for imaging. Since helium ions are heavy, they carry a higher momentum than electrons. “We leverage the momentum of the ions to actually modify structures too. We can create new surface properties, new devices, new technologies, on a scale that is often too small for any other fabrication technique. This is some of the most exciting work.” If you know anyone who needs some nanoscale drilling done, then the HIM is your instrument! Today’s excursion across the university campus has been thrilling. I got what I came for and I’m excited to find other projects that could benefit from the insight and beautiful images the HIM can provide. Imaging instruments have always fascinated me and I’m looking forward to witnessing how far we will be able to delve into the nanoscale world in the years to come, thanks to the fast pace of engineering and physics research. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 4 From the Editors-in-Chief by Caitlin Kane, Rachel Ko, Patrick Grave, Yvette Marris 1 July 2023 Edited by the Committee Illustrated by Gemma van der Hurk Scirocco, summer sun, shimmering on the horizon. Salt-caked channels spiderweb your lips, scored by rivulets of sweat. Shifting, hissing sands sting your legs. You are the explorer, the adventurer, the scientist. A rusted spring, you heave forward, straining for each step, hauling empty waterskins. ----- The lonely deserts of science provide fertile ground for mirages. An optical phenomenon that appears to show lakes in the distance, the mirage has long been a metaphor for foolhardy hopes and desperate quests. The allure of a sparkling oasis just over the horizon, however, is undeniable. The practice of science involves both kinds of stories. Some scientists set a distant goal and reach it — perhaps they are lucky, perhaps they have exactly the right skills. Other scientists yearn to crack a certain problem but never quite get there. In this issue of OmniSci Magazine, we chose to explore this quest for the unknown that may be bold, unlucky, or even foolhardy: chasing the ‘Mirage’. Each article was written entirely by a student, edited by students, and is accompanied by an illustration that was created by a student. We, as a magazine, exist to provide university students a place to develop their science communication skills and share their work. If there’s a piece you enjoy, feel free to leave a comment or send us some feedback – we love to know that our work means something to the wider world. We’d like to thank all our contributors — our writers, designers, editors, and committee — who have each invested countless hours into crafting an issue that we are all incredibly proud of. We’d also like to thank you, our readers; we are incredibly grateful that people want to read student pieces and learn little bits from the work. That’s enough talking from us until next issue. Go and read some fantastic student writing! Previous article Next article back to MIRAGE

< Back to Issue 2 Tactile communication: how touch conveys the things we can’t say Our daily dose of touch has decreased through months of lockdowns. But why is touch so important to us, and why do we feel the lack of it so severely? by Lily McCann 10 December 2021 Edited by Juulke Castelijn and Ethan Newnham Illustrated by Janna Dingle In a confusing world, thrust in and out of lockdowns, estranged from family and friends, you may have felt somewhat lost and out of touch in recent years. What helps to bring you back to a sense of self and belonging? For me it's a hug from my partner, a pat on the back from a sibling or a cuddle with my dog. Positive physical contact helps ground us and reassure us of our place in the world. It's an instinct cultivated from our first moments of life and one crucial to development. As the first sense to form, touch is the start of our gradual awakening into the world and informs our developmental progress. Even touching a mother’s stomach in pregnancy can alter the behaviour of the foetus within[1]. In the mid-late 20th century, researchers began to study the impact of sensory deprivation on children and infants, examining those placed in institutions who suffered from neglect[2]. This was a poignant problem following World War II, when millions of children were orphaned or displaced. The limited number of carers in overcrowded orphanages that attempted to harbour them meant that infants and young children were often left to lie day after day without a hug, stroke or any other form of caring contact. Upon studying these children, it became clear that the impact of deprivation was devastating, resulting in a number of cognitive, behavioural and physical deficits. Studies have since established that increasing tactile contact with developing children is protective against such problems[3]. For instance, simply stroking isolated premature babies improves mental development and physical growth[4]. It seems that touch provides a message to the infant’s body, communicating that it is safe and guarded and in an environment where it can grow and flourish. As you might expect, this process is closely related to stress responses. Studies have shown that in stressful situations of food deprivation, mice populations prioritise survival, neglecting breeding and exploration. When food is plentiful, this is reversed. A mother’s touch has a similar effect on human infants, decreasing stress levels and facilitating development and exploration[5]. We see another good example of this in dogs. Along with other domesticated animals, dog display something called ‘Domestication Syndrome’, which describes a set of features animals shaped by human breeding efforts share[6]. The ‘cute’ physique of such animals (floppy ears, snubby nose, curly tails) are correlated with increased stress tolerance and more tame behaviours. Interestingly, in dogs this decrease in stress is also paired with increased desire for and pleasure in touch. This is clear even between dog breeds: the working Australian Kelpie with its active herding instincts is more likely to chase down a bicycle than snuggle into you and ignore it like the floppy-eared Cavalier. Correlation studies abound, but what about the mechanism behind all these associations? How does touch affect our body? How is its message conveyed? The key mediators of tactile communication are nerve cells, otherwise known as neurons. These cells conduct signals to, from and within our brain. They’re particularly important for sensation, transferring information about our external environment to our inner mind. For touch, there are neurons in our skin with specialised endings that can sense pressure, vibration, temperature and stretch. They respond to these stimuli by firing little signals that tell our brain we’re touching something. There are actually two distinct types of touch that we use. Typing, turning book pages or handling tools are all mediated by the first type, discriminative touch, which is mainly limited to the palmar surface of our hands and fingers. Have a look at your palm now, then flip it over and examine the back of your hand. Notice anything different? The main difference is that the inner surface of your hand is smooth. Check out the back of it – it’s hairy. Hairy skin is differentiated by – you guessed it – hair, but also by the method of touch sensation. The type of touch experienced by hairy skin is affective touch. Affective touch holds the key to explaining our emotional dependence on tactile communication because it describes touch that has emotional and social relevance. It relies on a type of sensory nerve called CT fibres, which are specialised for positive social touch: they respond best to the temperature of human skin and a gentle, stroking pressure. Parents automatically use this sort of touch when interacting with their children[7]. This caring touch is incredibly powerful. It can cause the release of oxytocin (the “bonding hormone”)[8], decrease stress levels[9], and trigger the facial muscles that form a smile[10]. It can stimulate unique emotional responses, such as excitement, affection or calm. It even has the power to speak to DNA itself: research has shown that changing touch exposure in mice affects how DNA is structured and expressed[11]. Social touch is an essential component of how we define ourselves as humans. Without it, touch would mean nothing more than that a person is present, that their skin is warm or cold, dry or wet. The warmth of our partner’s hand wouldn’t create a sense of belonging, hugging a friend wouldn’t trigger memories of time spent together, stroking your child wouldn’t give rise to feelings of love. Affective touch colours our world and gives it meaning. Whilst some suggest that social touch encompasses all intentional, consensual interpersonal touch, I would argue that even accidental touch has a social impact[12]. In recent times we have all felt the change of walking down empty streets. Where bumping or brushing against another person was taken for granted as simply unavoidable on the morning train a couple of years ago, COVID19 has introduced new connotations to such accidental touch, all but prohibiting it. Whilst you may have been frustrated by clustered train carriages, you can’t help but notice that it feels a little lonely when the train is quiet, and the nearest passenger is more than 1.5m away. Even accidental touch signals to the body that you are part of a community, part of a herd, and for a social animal that must be comforting. Look at sheep, for instance: under stress, harassed by sheepdogs or farmers, they automatically cluster together in a group. Whilst an individual bump between two sheep in the herd may be fortuitous, the fact that crowding together maximises interpersonal contact is no accident. The comfort of touch is a fact of human life, but one not often actively acknowledged. Lockdowns and isolation have reminded us all how necessary social contact can be for our wellbeing. Touch is a part of the chatter that defines our place amongst others and our identities as part of a community. So if your pet, friend or partner are in need of comfort, administer a bit of affective touch and see the miraculous calming effects of the actions of those CT nerve cells. Stay safe and sanitise, but remember, hugs are helpful too! References [1]Marx, Viola, and Emese Nagy. 2017. "Fetal Behavioral Responses To The Touch Of The Mother’S Abdomen: A Frame-By-Frame Analysis". Infant Behavior And Development 47: 83-91. doi:10.1016/j.infbeh.2017.03.005. [2] van der Horst, Frank C. P., and René van der Veer. 2008. "Loneliness In Infancy: Harry Harlow, John Bowlby And Issues Of Separation". Integrative Psychological And Behavioral Science 42 (4): 325-335. doi:10.1007/s12124-008-9071-x. [3] Ardiel, Evan L, and Catharine H Rankin. 2010. "The Importance Of Touch In Development". Paediatrics & Child Health 15 (3): 153-156. doi:10.1093/pch/15.3.153. [4] Rice, Ruth D. 1977. "Neurophysiological Development In Premature Infants Following Stimulation.". Developmental Psychology 13 (1): 69-76. doi:10.1037/0012-1649.13.1.69. [5] Caldji, Christian, Josie Diorio, and Michael J Meaney. 2000. "Variations In Maternal Care In Infancy Regulate The Development Of Stress Reactivity". Biological Psychiatry 48 (12): 1164-1174. doi:10.1016/s0006-3223(00)01084-2. [6] Trut, Lyudmila. 1999. "Early Canid Domestication: The Farm-Fox Experiment". American Scientist 87 (2): 160. doi:10.1511/1999.2.160. [7]Croy, Ilona, Edda Drechsler, Paul Hamilton, Thomas Hummel, and Håkan Olausson. 2016. "Olfactory Modulation Of Affective Touch Processing — A Neurophysiological Investigation". Neuroimage 135: 135-141. doi:10.1016/j.neuroimage.2016.04.046.v [8]Walker, Susannah C., Paula D. Trotter, William T. Swaney, Andrew Marshall, and Francis P. Mcglone. 2017. "C-Tactile Afferents: Cutaneous Mediators Of Oxytocin Release During Affiliative Tactile Interactions?". Neuropeptides 64: 27-38. doi:10.1016/j.npep.2017.01.001. [9]Field, Tiffany. 2010. "Touch For Socioemotional And Physical Well-Being: A Review". Developmental Review 30 (4): 367-383. doi:10.1016/j.dr.2011.01.001. [10]Pawling, Ralph, Peter R. Cannon, Francis P. McGlone, and Susannah C. Walker. 2017. "C-Tactile Afferent Stimulating Touch Carries A Positive Affective Value". PLOS ONE 12 (3): e0173457. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0173457. [11]Bagot, R. C., T.-Y. Zhang, X. Wen, T. T. T. Nguyen, H.-B. Nguyen, J. Diorio, T. P. Wong, and M. J. Meaney. 2012. "Variations In Postnatal Maternal Care And The Epigenetic Regulation Of Metabotropic Glutamate Receptor 1 Expression And Hippocampal Function In The Rat". Proceedings Of The National Academy Of Sciences 109 (Supplement_2): 17200-17207. doi:10.1073/pnas.1204599109. [12] Cascio, Carissa J., David Moore, and Francis McGlone. 2019. "Social Touch And Human Development". Developmental Cognitive Neuroscience 35: 5-11. doi:10.1016/j.dcn.2018.04.009. Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

< Back to Issue 2 Mastering Chaos with Pen and Paper The mathematical laws which govern our chaotic and complex universe have found special use in describing the rapidly changing global climate. The work of three research scientists, with backgrounds in physics and meteorology, offered crucial insight into models describing the chaotic processes of climate change, granting them the 2021 Physics Nobel Prize. by Xen Papailiadis 10 December 2021 Edited by Mia Horsfall & Katherine Tweedie Illustrated by Jess Nguyen The world in which we live is densely packed with randomness and disorder. From the stampede of pedestrians navigating a major intersection and meshing together at the zebra crossing, to a flock of blackbirds hovering above like a shapeless dark cloud. All seems random and without any sense of pattern. However, at a very fundamental level, all of these processes can be described by logic and equations; as once remarked by Galileo, “the order of the natural world is written in the language of mathematics”. Through the tireless efforts of natural scientists from across the world, over millennia we have developed a remarkable understanding of the nature of the physical world. At the atomic scale of quantum physics right up to the largest astronomical objects in our universe, physics can both describe the present and decisively predict the future and past of a system. This is all with a pinch of salt, of course, as we run into some serious issues where probability and uncertainty takes over at the quantum level (best saved for another feature article), however, by and large we are capable of determining how a rocket will launch into space and where it will land on dry land, thanks to this deterministic tool. This may seem like the end of the story, however, Mother Nature will not dispel all her secrets at once. In the past century, scientists studying random behaviour, such as how clouds move and disperse or how the small fluctuations in the stock market can be tracked, have been at a loss applying deterministic methods (i.e. methods where we can determine or predict the outcome from a few fixed starting conditions) to these systems. There seemed to be no way to accurately predict the evolution of the system through time. This began with the likes of Poincare fruitlessly predicting the future movement of the planets in our solar system at the request of a monarch, and later Lorenz with his breakthrough and accidental discovery of the mathematical field of chaos itself. “Chaos Theory” is the study of complex nonlinear dynamic systems. In other words, a reckoning with systems that display persistent randomness and a perceived lack of total predictability. There is a nuance to this, however, as a system can simultaneously appear ordered, yet harbour chaotic behaviour within (as Lorenz discovered). Alternatively the systems may seem entirely chaotic however it obeys certain patterns when looked at closely (such as the aforementioned flocking birds). Among all the far reaching applications of Chaos Theory in describing the natural and human-made world, the most recent development has also been deemed worthy of the Nobel Prize. On Tuesday 5th October of this year, three leading scientists in their respective fields were awarded the title of the Nobel Prize, including a share in a $1.53 AUD million reward, by the Royal Swedish Academy of the Sciences. The Nobel recipients are Syukuro Manabe of Princeton University, Klaus Hasselmann of the Max Planck Institute for Meteorology, and Giorgio Parisi of Sapienza University of Rome. The prize itself was awarded “for groundbreaking contributions to our understanding of complex physical systems”, including “the physical modelling of Earth’s climate… and reliably predicting global warming”. This is the first occasion a Nobel Prize in Physics has been attributed to the field of environmental science and studying the future of the world’s changing climate, and initiates an interesting chapter in the interplay between research in physics, mathematics, and the global climate in decades to come. Receiving one half of the total prize money, Professor Parisi was awarded for the discovery of the interplay of disorder and fluctuations in physical systems from atomic to planetary scales. Having been at the cutting edge of complex systems research since the 1980’s, Parisi observed hidden patterns in disordered complex materials. His discoveries in understanding and describing the behaviour of these seemingly random materials and phenomena has far reaching contributions into biology, neuroscience and machine learning. Parisi’s work provides a mathematical framework for studying the evolution of the global climate as an example of a complex system. The Earth’s climate is a complex system of vital importance to humankind. Professors Manabe and Hasselmann, two senior climate scientists, shared in the other half of the prize for their contributions in modelling the Earth’s climate system to reliably predict global warming and climate change. In the 1960’s, Professor Manabe led the development of physical modelling of the Earth’s climate, uniting previously separate models of the ocean and atmosphere to demonstrate how increased levels of carbon dioxide impact on temperature on the Earth’s surface. This has effectively laid the foundations of modern climate models used today. Professor Hasselmann followed this up with research of his own a decade later, finding a link between local weather and climate. Hasselmann and his colleagues produced a model which described why climate models can be reliable despite weather being changeable and chaotic, and his work has been used to prove that the increased temperature in the atmosphere is due to human emissions of carbon dioxide. The decades-long work of all three Nobel Laureates fundamentally shaped our understanding and ability to predict how the chaotic and interwoven behavior of the atmosphere, oceans and land will change over time, and strengthen our understanding of the changing climate on our planet. As put by the Nobel Committee for Physics, their discoveries demonstrate that our knowledge about the climate rests on a “solid scientific foundation”, one which can only grow with future generations of climate scientists, physicists and inquirers of the world under a scientific lens. The world in which we live is a random and chaotic one. Despite this sea of unpredictability, a deeper understanding of its mathematical nature can reveal patterns which have far reaching ramifications to our society and even our existence on planet Earth. The Nobel Prize in Physics is one significant step toward greater understanding of real-world complex systems which impact us, and a deeper recognition of the impact we have upon the Earth’s climate. Our ability to understand complex systems is one of a myriad of stepping stones into the great unknowns of science. To those turning away from studies in mathematics and physics for their seemingly abstract and complex nature, the future of our society is written in these laws and it is up to us to master them with pen and paper. References: Bradley, Larry. “Strange Attractors.” Chaos & Fractals, 2010. https://www.stsci.edu/~lbradley/seminar/attractors.html Gardini, L., Grebogi, C. & Lenci, S. “Chaos theory and applications: a retrospective on lessons learned and missed or new opportunities.” Nonlinear Dyn 102, 643–644 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11071-020-05903-0 Irfan, Umair. “Earth’s climate is chaotic. The winners of the 2021 Nobel Prize in physics found patterns in the noise.” Vox, October 5, 2021. https://www.vox.com/22710418/2021-physics-nobel-prize-climate-change-chaos-model Oestreicher, Christian. “A history of chaos theory.” Dialogues in clinical neuroscience vol. 9,3 (2007): 279-89. doi:10.31887/DCNS.2007.9.3/coestreicher Plus Magazine. “Maths in a minute: Poincaré and the beginnings of chaos.” Universtiy of Cambridge, February 28, 2017. https://plus.maths.org/content/maths-minute-beginnings-chaos Press release: The Nobel Prize in Physics 2021. NobelPrize.org. Nobel Prize Outreach AB 2021. Thu. 25 Nov 2021. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/physics/2021/press-release/ Randall, David. “Winners of 2021 Nobel Prize in Physics built mathematics of climate modeling, making predictions of global warming and modern weather forecasting possible.” The Conversation, October 6, 2021. https://theconversation.com/winners-of-2021-nobel-prize-in-physics-built-mathematics-of-climate-modeling-making-predictions-of-global-warming-and-modern-weather-forecasting-possible-169329 Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

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

2022: A YEAR IN SCIENCE 23 March 2023 Message from the Editors in Chief By Caitlin Kane, Rachel Ko, Patrick Grave, Yvette Marris A short message from the Editors in Chief Svante Pääbo: Talking to the Past By Lily McCann The world of today might seem completely alien to an archaic human, but 2022 Nobel Prize winner Svante Pääbo is pioneering work using archaeological DNA to decode genetic links to help us understand humans of the past. Meet the New Kid By Julia Lockerd Imagine a machine joins your art class, creating new art from an AI algorithm fed by original human creation. No need to imagine — AI has already refined art in 2022. From Fusion to Submarines: A Nuclear Year By Andrew Lim In 2022, nuclear science stood between old fears and new possibilities. What’s next for politicians, scientists and the public? Behind the Mask By Yvette Marris 2022 brought new stories of healthcare workers struggling in our post-pandemic world, but the big picture goes beyond the COVID wards.

< Back to Issue 2 What’s the forecast for smallholder farmers of Arabica coffee? For millions of smallholder farmers residing in the rural highlands of East Timor and Ethiopia, Arabica coffee is a major source of income. Yet, weather patterns are threatening their future livelihoods. With global coffee yields predicted to dramatically reduce in coming decades, how will this touch Melbourne’s privileged cafe culture? by Hannah Savage 10 December 2021 Edited by Ashleigh Hallinan & Irene Yonsuh Lee Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin The world loves its coffee. After crude oil, coffee is the most exported commodity in the world and global demands are projected to skyrocket alongside demographic growth (2). With a strong inclination by Australian citizens to participate in our bourgeois cafe culture, Australian demand can be expected to mimic this trend. However, as climate change continues to throw curveballs, pressures to satisfy these demands will be felt by all in the supply chain. There are many species of coffee beans, yet global consumption relies only on a narrow genetic selection. Coffea Arabica is the dominant coffee bean species in commercial production (approximately 70 percent), followed by Coffea Robusta (2). Agricultural research and breeding of these crops are not extensive, considering their high sensitivity to climate. If Arabica was a child, it would be the no-mash-touching-the-peas type. Though a laborious crop to farm, this fussy plant has low yield when too much shade deprives it of sunlight or too little shade shrinks soil moisture levels. It insists on altitudes 1000-2000m above sea level and 2000mm of rainfall per annum (2). Moreover, the optimal air temperature for Arabica is 18-21 degrees Celsius (3). With these environmental specifications, it is expected that half of the world’s optimal areas for growth of Arabica and Robusta are expected to be lost by 2050 due to climate change (13). After Hurricane Maria hurtled across Puerto Rico in 2017, 80 percent of coffee trees were destroyed and rural livelihoods were flattened overnight (4). Climate change does not pay sympathy towards poor and marginalized rural communities. Frequency and intensity of extreme weather is increasing in many developing nations. Changes in temperature, weather events and rainfall patterns are already challenging the ability of farmers to adapt. Rainfall distribution is becoming more erratic and unpredictable. This is a key concern to farmers as rain patterns correlate with timing of flowering and fruit production (2). Flowering is usually triggered by the first rains of the wet season, yet unpredictable rains during the year may cause flowering at undesirable times. Unsynchronized ripening requires additional harvesting cycles, costing farmers more money and labour. In addition, water scarcity and warmer air temperature also have profound impacts on harvests. Prolonged drought leads to misshapen or small beans with marks and imperfections (3). Low moisture and heat stress causes wilting, death of crops or acceleration of bean growth (3). At temperatures above 23 degrees, fruit ripens too fast for a rich, sweet coffee flavour to develop (2). What will thrive from these changing climatic conditions are pests, diseases and coffee rust fungus, which are becoming more prevalent in areas previously unfavourable for their survival (5). The insect Coffee berry borer has been a particular challenge to coffee producers globally, as it feeds on coffee beans and damages plantations. One to four generations of these critters are born each fruiting season (5). Climate change brings uncertainty to the future livelihoods of millions of smallholder coffee farmers around the world, who produce 70 percent of the world’s coffee (6). While world leaders dance around pretty statistical graphs of their carbon-cutting “achievements”, there is the underlying issue that global efforts to lower emissions will not have equal consequences across geographical locations. Poorer economies abundant in fossil fuel resources are pressured to implement policies that further increase their vulnerability and are left grappling to find quick coping strategies. Although it accounts for only a small percentage of global coffee production, East Timor is one of the most economically dependent on coffee. East Timor, the small-island nation 700km north-west of Darwin, has relied on its oil sector for economic development in recent decades, but now interest from foreign traders is depleting with global trends towards renewable energy. The coffee industry has been identified by the East Timor government as being a key opportunity for sustained economic growth and reduction of rural poverty. More than 18 percent of Timorese households rely on coffee production as their primary source of income (7). Coffee producers have a poverty rate of 47.9 percent, which is higher than the national rate of poverty, 40.3 percent (7). Many coffee-producing households are without electricity or access to clean water and regular meals. Figure 1: Distribution of coffee-selling households in Timor-Leste (7). Timorese Arabica coffee farmers today celebrate achieving yields their grandparents would have considered inadequate in the early 20th century during Portuguese occupation. This reflects how much the climate has changed across generations. Rain, once predictable to begin at the end of every November, is now inconsistent and reduced (1). Unfortunately, adaptive solutions often demand high investment and low reward in the initial implementation stages. Farmers may be reluctant to remove their aging, unproductive coffee trees and replant new ones for fear of losing a major source of income while waiting for financial output from the new growth (9). There is the temptation to instead plant new crops between existing ones, which exploits soil nutrients and harms coffee yields. Small short-term rewards also discourage poorer farmers from participating in collective reforestation projects (9). There is much work to be done to restore ecosystems devastated from rainforest clearances during Indonesian colonisation in 1975, which occurred mere months after independence from Portugal. Shade trees that characterise these tropical rainforests play important roles in supporting coffee growth. If farmers grow coffee crops amongst the rainforest, crops will benefit from wind shelter and rich soil nutrients (8). Shade reduces daytime air temperature and increases humidity. In the region of Baguia, the collaboration project WithOneSeed, (co-founded by Melbourne’s own ‘The Corner Store Cafe’ owners), actively alleviates poverty by restoring rainforests and granting farmers profits from carbon credit trades. Farmers plant an indigenous shade tree, carbon credits are purchased by foreign customers to offset fossil fuel emissions and a remuneration of 50cents per tree is given to farmers each year so long as the tree survives (10). WithOneSeed therefore provides rural coffee producers with income before trees mature and re-establishes tara bandu, customary resource management that sustained Timor Leste’s environment for centuries pre-colonisation. Organic beans are purchased from smallholder farms at a fair price by The Corner Store and roasted in Oakleigh. The supply chain is transparent and traceable and profits go towards funding WithOneSeed planting. Plus the coffee is good quality and grown without nasty chemicals! (11) Simple adaptive responses are also being made by coffee producers in the world’s fifth largest Arabica producer, Ethiopia (3). As Arabica has been said to originate here, it is perhaps unsurprising that 16 percent of the population rely on coffee for their livelihood. Figure 2: The main coffee growing areas of Ethiopia (3). In the case of a global temperature rise of 2.4 degrees Celsius, land areas suitable for coffee production in Ethiopia would be expected to decline by 21 percent (12). Resilience for smallholder Arabica producers now depends on creative solutions using limited technology and resources available to rural communities. Relocating farms to higher altitudes of Ethiopian highlands is one solution. But this transition comes at a cost for coffee producers in the form of social network losses. While climate conditions of higher land might be more suitable, other factors such as land tenureship rights and soil quality may pose new obstacles (13). As rain seasons shorten and dry seasons lengthen, Ethiopian coffee producers aim to boost irrigation by diverting nearby streams. This is an ancient and cost-effective solution that enables coffee to successfully be grown in areas classified unsuitable (3). Similarly, coffee producers are carrying out traditional techniques of mulching, where laying compost over soil conserves soil moisture (3). However, more government investment in supporting these adaptations is needed to keep ahead of global warming (3). Sustainable agriculture also needs to be met with fair prices. Many Ethiopian farmers do not have access to foreign traders who will pay premium prices that outweigh production costs. Coffee prices are determined by the international market, or “C price”, which is based on the theory that cost is proportional to global demand, with no consideration of quality or organic farming practices (14). This supports and encourages cheap, unsustainable agricultural practice because sustainable or not, farmers will receive the same revenue for their produce. To combat this, Ethiopian business CoQua, based in Addis Ababa city, facilitates opportunities for private producers to link with international clients and initiate direct lines of trade (14). Through CoQua, Melbourne’s Seven Seeds cafe were able to establish a trade relationship with private smallholder Ethiopian Arabica producers. Seven Seeds claim to pay 3.56 times the “C price” (14). Continue as we may to remain disconnected from the challenges of an environmentally fragile coffee industry, it is only a matter of time before global reduction makes noticeable impacts on Melbourne’s shielded society. What will happen when coffee stocks fail to meet Melbourne demand? Seven Seeds co-owner Mark Dundon told The Sydney Morning Herald that he predicts coffee prices will rise, despite general reluctance of consumers to spill more than one bank note from their wallets for a flat white (14). And why shouldn't we pay more for our hot beverages if producers vulnerable to food insecurity are paying more from the brunt of climate change? The following decades have a bitter outlook, but the recent pandemic outbreak enhanced our ability to envision rapid global disruptions where no corner of the world is excluded. Certainly a disruption to Melbourne coffee culture is a trivial issue in the grand scheme of things, but as consumers it is one worth considering now. The future for Melbourians to satisfy their cultural addiction balances dangerously on a series of environmental conditions being met in foreign highlands. While it’s true that being a “smart consumer” can feel like a matter of blind faith (how fair is fair trade?), favouring businesses that have ethical, direct lines of trade with smallholder producers is one small, immediate solution towards building a sustainable future for our treasured beans and those in the firing line of climate change. References: 1. Jack Board, “From crop to kopitiam, Asia's coffee is facing its biggest threat - climate change,” CNA, published 29 February 2020, https://www.channelnewsasia.com/asia/climate-change-coffee-prices-timor-leste-crops-1338741 2. Abaynesh Asegid, “Impact of Climate Change on production and Diversity of Coffee (Coffea Arabica L) in Ethiopia,” International Journal of Research Studies in Science, Engineering and Technology 7, 8 (2020): 31-38. 3. Kew Royal Botanic Garden, Coffee farming and climate change in Ethiopia, (London: The Strategic Climate Institutions Programme), 37, https://www.kew.org/sites/default/files/2019-01/Coffee%20Farming%20and%20Climate%20Change%20in%20Ethiopia.pdf 4. “How is Climate Change Impacting the Future of Coffee?,” TechnoServe Business Solutions to Poverty, published 16 September 2021, https://www.technoserve.org/blog/climate-change-impacting-future-coffee/ 5. Getachew Weldemichael and Demelash Teferi, “The Impact of Climate Change on Coffee (Coffea arabica L.) Production and Genetic Resources,” International Journal of Research Studies in Agricultural Sciences (IJRSAS) 5, 11, (2019): 26-34, DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.20431/2454-6224.0511004. 6. Michon Scott, “Climate and Coffee,” Science Information for a climate-smart nation, published 19 June 2015, https://www.climate.gov/news-features/climate-and/climate-coffee 7. Brett Inder and Nan Qu, Coffee in Timor-Leste : What do we know ? What can we do ?, (Australia: Monash University), 17. 8. Simon P.J Batterbury, Lisa R. Palmer, Thomas R. Reuter, Demetrio do Amaral de Carvalho, Balthasar Kehi and Alex Cullen, “Land access and livelihoods in post-conflict Timor-Leste: no magic bullets,” International Journal of the commons, 9, 2, (2015): 619-647. 9. Lisa Walker, Understanding Timor Leste, (Dili: Swinburne Press, 2013), 22-158. 10. Andrew Mahar, “Meet the farmers helping to reforest Timor-Leste,” World Economic Forum, published 26 January 2021, Meet the farmers helping to reforest Timor-Leste | World Economic Forum (weforum.org) 11. “The Roastery,” The Corner Store, accessed November 2021, https://cornerstorenetwork.org.au/the-roastery 12. Cheikh Mbow et al., Climate Change and Land: an IPCC special report on climate change, desertification, land degradation, sustainable land management, food security, and greenhouse gas fluxes in terrestrial ecosystems, (2019), https://www.ipcc.ch/site/assets/uploads/sites/4/2021/02/08_Chapter-5_3.pdf 13. Yen Pham, Kathryn Reardon-Smith, Shahbaz Mushtaq and Geoff Cockfield, “The impact of climate change and variability on coffee production: a systematic review”, Climatic Change, 156, (2019): 609-630, The impact of climate change and variability on coffee production: a systematic review | SpringerLink 14. Dani Valent, “ 'The industry's at risk': the high price of cheap coffees,” published 31 May 2019, national/the-industry-s-at-risk-the-high-price-of-cheap-coffees-20190528-p51rti.html Previous article back to DISORDER Next article

By Ashleigh Hallinan < Back to Issue 3 Space exploration in Antartica By Ashleigh Hallinan 10 September 2022 Edited by Tanya Kovacevic and Breana Galea Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Next The isolated southern expanse of the Earth is an alien realm, with vast expanses of white ice and blue sky that appear to stretch on infinitely. Despite its barren landscape, the Antarctic continent holds secrets to the origins of our Earth and the solar system in the form of meteorites. Meteorites are solid pieces of debris that originate in outer space, survive the journey through our atmosphere, and fall to the Earth’s surface.(1) Their unique components and pungent smells contain fascinating stories of cosmic clouds, condensing stardust and the fiery collisions of entire planets. These ‘space rocks’ can land anywhere on Earth, but the vast majority of meteorites are found in the cold deserts of Antarctica.(2) So, why Antarctica? Across the globe, meteorite abundance is dependent on two factors: the meteorites must be easy to spot, and their preservation must be guaranteed over long time periods.(3) It is the conditions of the Antarctic landscape that make all the difference when it comes to meteorite discovery. The cold, dry nature of Antarctica helps to preserve these extraterrestrial rocks, allowing for more pristine samples to be collected. In this way, we may think of Antarctica as a ‘natural freezer’. In fact, meteorites can be buried and preserved in the Antarctic ice for up to millions of years, allowing for a deep dive into the origins of the solar system upon analysis. Furthermore, meteorites are easier to find in Antarctica due to the stark contrast between the dark colours of meteorites and the white ice. And since so few rocks naturally form on ice sheets, you can be fairly certain the majority of rocks found in Antarctica are extraterrestrial. However, an expedition to Antarctica for meteorite hunting is no small feat. Thankfully, landscape processes occurring on the Antarctic continent create concentrated pockets of meteorites, making the hunt for meteorites less like trying to find a needle in a haystack. These meteorite hotspots are largely a result of the local geology and movement of ice across the Antarctic landscape.(4) As meteorites strike glaciers, they are buried and encased in the ice. These glaciers move across the landscape, acting as ‘conveyor belts’ that carry the meteorites until they reach a large barrier, such as the Transantarctic Mountains. The ice flow is blocked and builds up at the base of the mountain. Here, dry Antarctic winds slowly erode the ice, revealing a bounty of imprisoned meteorites. Traditionally, meteorites have been divided into three broad categories: stony, stony-iron, and iron.(5) While stony meteorites are made up of silicate minerals, iron meteorites are almost completely made of metal. Unsurprisingly, stony-iron meteorites are composed of nearly equal amounts of metal and silicate crystals. Alarmingly, warmer temperatures and melting ice associated with global warming may hinder our search for meteorites. This is particularly the case for iron meteorites, which conduct heat more efficiently than other meteorite types due to their higher metal content.(6) Consequently, meteorites can sink into the ice and out of sight. Despite Antarctica’s otherworldliness, it is not free of the impacts brought about by human activity occurring on landmasses separated by vast seas. However, with the help of artificial intelligence and machine-learning, the quest for meteorite discovery continues. Scientists recently estimated there are as many as 300,000 more meteorites to be discovered in Antarctica, their stories waiting to be uncovered in a never-ending game of hide-and-seek.(7) Using machine learning to combine satellite measurements of temperature, surface slope, speed of ice flow, and reflection of radar signals by ice, scientists have developed a ‘treasure map’ containing the predicted locations of concentrated meteorite zones.(7) The ’treasure map’ is accessible online,(8) so anyone can search the Antarctic continent for rocky remnants left over from the formation of the solar system. When we think of space exploration, we conjure up images of astronauts and spaceships. But Antarctica provides us with the opportunity to peer into the cosmos without ever leaving Earth, given we are brave enough to face the inhospitable conditions and pervasive alienness of the Earth’s southernmost continent. References 1. Sephton M, Bland P, Pillinger C, Gilmour I. The preservation state of organic matter in meteorites from Antarctica. Meteoritics & Planetary Science. 2004;39(5):747-54. 2. Corrigan C. Antarctica: The Best Place on Earth to Collect Meteorites. CosmoELEMENTS; 2011. p. 296. 3. Schlüter J, Schultz L, Thiedig F, Al‐Mahdi B, Aghreb AA. The Dar al Gani meteorite field (Libyan Sahara): Geological setting, pairing of meteorites, and recovery density. Meteoritics & Planetary Science. 2002;37(8):1079-93. 4. Steigerwald B. NASA Scientist Collects Bits of the Solar System from an Antarctic Glacier Greenbelt: NASA; 2018 [Available from: https://www.nasa.gov/feature/goddard/2018/antarctic-meteorites. 5. Lotzof K. Types of meteorites [Internet]. Natural History Museum; [Available from: https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/types-of-meteorites.html. 6. Evatt G, Coughlan M, Joy K, Smedley A, Connolly P, Abrahams I. A potential hidden layer of meteorites below the ice surface of Antarctica. Nature communications. 2016;7(1):1-8. 7. Tollenaar V, Zekollari H, Lhermitte S, Tax DM, Debaille V, Goderis S, et al. Unexplored Antarctic meteorite collection sites revealed through machine learning. Science Advances. 2022;8(4). 8. Tollenaar V, Zekollari H, Lhermitte S, Tax DM, Debaille V, S G. Antarctic Meteorite Stranding Zones [Internet]. [Available from: https://wheretocatchafallingstar.science/. Previous article Next article alien back to

By Gaurika Loomba < Back to Issue 3 Mighty Microscopic Warriors! By Gaurika Loomba 10 September 2022 Edited by Niesha Baker and Khoa-Anh Tran Illustrated by Rachel Ko Next It’s a fine Saturday afternoon. You’re sitting in your backyard sipping on coffee and losing your mind over the daily Wordle. While you’re so engrossed, an unusual, blue-colored creature pulls another chair and solves the Wordle for you. Just as you look up and try to process the condescending smirk of this creature, your daily news notification pops up. It's true! The whole world has been invaded by aliens! Thankfully this is a figment of our imagination, but would you believe me if I told you that alien invasions are constantly happening unnoticed in the microscopic world of our bodies? Every day, our cells face new ‘alien invasions’, thanks to unhygienic eating, or even just from breathing! In the external world, such an invasion would unsettle the entire human population and adversely impact the lives of everyone. It’s amazing how such invasions inside our bodies are usually defeated daily. So who are these tiny ‘soldiers’ that fight them off, silently and efficiently? It’s time to introduce the two brothers of our story– the innate immune cells system and the adaptive immune cells system, the former being the more enthusiastic and energetic one, while the latter is calmer and wiser. Although different in nature, the two systems coordinate efficiently to eliminate our enemies and help us go on about our lives. The innate immune system acts first when a pathogen (a disease-causing microorganism) manages to enter our bodies by getting around our physical barriers like the skin, and the mucus in the respiratory, gastric, urinary, and sexual tracts, etc. The innate immune system consists of cells like macrophages and dendritic cells (DCs), which are constantly looking out for incoming invaders. These cells recognise pathogens through common foreign attributes that our native cells don’t possess. In order to defend us from the harmful effects of the pathogen, our innate cells engulf them. In fact, the word ‘macrophages’ literally means ‘big eaters.’ Inside our cells, the pathogens’ end is inevitable, smashed and broken into pieces, which are mounted on our soldier cells’ surfaces, informing other soldier cells that an invasion has occurred. Exposing broken parts of the pathogen on our innate cells’ surfaces also produces chemicals called cytokines that help recruit more of our soldier cells to the site of invasion. So, when we get flu, the secreted cytokines is why we run a fever, cough, sneeze, and influx of our soldier cells to the throat area is why we may have swelling around there. Similarly, if we bruise, our blood vessels dilate to allow entry of our soldier cells to the wounded area, which is then manifested as redness and swelling around it. Fortunately, this means of communication of our soldier cells is much faster than our internet connection and so the whole process occurs in a matter of hours. On most days, the keen innate immune system is enough to control an invasion. However, it needs big brotherly advice from the adaptive immune system in case things get out of hand. The main players of this part of the immune system are the calm B- and T-cells. These can be found resting in the lymph nodes, unaware of the invasion in the body. The B- and T-cells are wise soldiers, which is evident in the way they respond to an invasion. Each of these cells has molecules called ‘receptors’, which uniquely recognise pathogen parts presented to them. These receptors, on an adaptive cell, can be thought of as padlocks and the broken pathogen parts, mounted on an innate cell, as a key. In the lymph nodes, each resting B- and T-cell has a different type of padlock, unique for a different key. It is the job of a DC, with a broken pathogen part mounted on its surface, to enter the lymph nodes and search for the most accurate match for its key, from the variety of B- and T-cell padlocks. The key varies based on the different types of pathogens that invade our bodies. Once the perfect match is found, that specific B- and T-cell is activated and rapidly multiplied. This lock-and-key method of activation of adaptive cells confers the specificity of their action. These activated cells move from the lymph nodes to the site of infection and perform different functions that halt the pathogen from spreading the disease, by either killing the pathogen or stopping its reproduction. At the site of infection, innate cells, with the key (broken pathogen part) mounted on their surface wait for the brotherly advice, the incoming adaptive cells with the perfect match to the key. The activated T-cells uniquely interact with macrophages and signal them to start killing the pathogens that they have engulfed. This helps with clearance of the pathogen. Although B-cells are part of the adaptive immune system, they can also recognise the foreign pathogen products, break them down, and present these parts on their surface, just like the innate immune cells. So now B-cells also have a key to the activated T-cell padlocks. Their lock-and-key interaction facilitates the B-cells to release antibodies. Finally, the antibodies, together with the macrophages and DCs, as well as the B- and T-cells of the adaptive immune system, successfully win the war and die peacefully, having completed their purpose. But a small portion of B- and T-cells go on and develop into long-lived memory cells. Over the span of our lives, we are infected and reinfected with pathogens all the time, however not every encounter results in us falling sick. The credit goes to the B- and T-memory cells and their ability to remember the foreign attributes of the pathogen and kill it as soon as it re-invades. Adaptive cells’ memory is the principle of vaccination. An inactive pathogen or a part of the pathogen is introduced into the body. This trains our soldier cells for a real pathogen invasion by triggering the B-cells to form memory and specialised antibodies against the pseudo-pathogen. If the real pathogen infects us again, these pre-formed antibodies make fighting the war much easier and quicker. Correct training of immune cells is essential since a pathogen invasion is a life-or-death situation for us. Any mistakes by our soldier cells can have devastating effects. For example, an important part of the training process is to ensure the immune cells aptly distinguish between civilian cells and foreign cells. This education occurs in the bone marrow. Here, any B- or T-cells that attack civilian cells or cell parts are evicted from the training process so only the most eligible soldier cells continue to become eligible soldiers. (1) But even after a rigorous selection process, things can go wrong with our immune system. Instead of being our defending heroes, they turn their back against us and start identifying civilian cells as aliens and attacking them. Sadly, this is the reality for 5% of the Australian population, with a majority being women. This condition, when the immune cells stop distinguishing internal cells from alien cells, is called an auto-immune disorder. The cause for this disorder is mostly unknown, with some speculations of it being genetic or environmental. The repercussions can be mild, such as causing dry mouth and dry eyes - symptoms for Sjogren’s syndrome, or more severe such as joint pain and immobilisation, known as Rheumatoid Arthritis. These diseases are currently life-long and incurable because they involve our own cells fighting the healthy cells in our body. (2) Nevertheless, the immune system plays a very important role in helping us lead normal lives. It fights the battle against the invaders daily, without us realizing it. Thanks to the soldiers of the immune system, our daily activities, like solving a Wordle on a relaxing Saturday, are not hindered by an alien cell invasion in our bodies! References Kenneth Murphy, Casey Weaver. Basic concepts in Immunology. Janeway’s Immunobiology. 9th ed. United States: Garland Science Taylor and Francis; 2017. p. 4-11 Overview of autoimmune diseases [Internet]. Healthdirect. Available from: Overview of autoimmune diseases | healthdirect Previous article Next article alien back to

< Back to Issue 2 Maxing the Vax: why some countries are losing the COVID vaccination race As Australia’s COVID vaccination rate reaches 90% for the adult population, are you aware of countries struggling with their vaccination program? This piece discusses three countries, Brazil, Papua New Guinea, and India, and the key challenges they face in increasing their vaccination rate. by Grace Law 10 December 2021 Edited by Neisha Baker Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Most Australians are now fully vaccinated against COVID-19, but are you aware of how other countries are handling their vaccination programs? Each country has its own set of challenges and setbacks it must overcome in getting its citizens vaccinated. The success and failure of vaccination programs depend on how well these are addressed, and how the people respond. Political, economic, geographical, and educational factors can have a huge impact on vaccination success. Below, I will discuss the key challenges affecting COVID-19 vaccination in three countries, Brazil, Papua New Guinea, and India, as well as its impact on the country’s vaccination rate. Brazil – the nation that changed their fate Brazil has suffered the highest overall death toll in Latin America which is also the second-highest in the world after the United States. Brazil’s President Jair Bolsonaro was strongly opposed to lockdowns, restrictions, and public-health measures such as masks, which some local areas sought to impose (1). He has also spread disinformation regarding the coronavirus and vaccines, such as posting a video falsely associating the coronavirus vaccines with the onset of AIDS, resulting in Facebook removing it after public outcry (2). As a leader, his words and actions have major roles in influencing opinion and informing the public. While the number of preventable deaths is shocking, the predicted wave of destruction by the Delta variant has not materialised. Over 60% of the population is fully vaccinated despite the mixed messages and deterrence from the central government (3). The city of Serrana became the testing site of the Chinese vaccine Sinovac with most adults being willing towards receiving the vaccine (4). Consequently, the symptomatic cases, hospitalisation and deaths in the area all fell dramatically, becoming a place of envy for the neighbouring communities (5). This initial success also offers hope for low and middle-income countries, which may rely on this cheaper vaccine (6). Despite governmental resistance throughout the pandemic, Brazilians have defied the odds and faced the virus as a united community. Local leaders have challenged the national government to ensure suitable public health orders are enforced, and citizens have actively sought vaccination, preventing further COVID-19 devastation. Papua New Guinea – our struggling neighbour One of Australia’s closest neighbours, Papua New Guinea (PNG), is among the countries with the lowest vaccination rate in the world. According to Our World in Data, only 2% of the population is fully vaccinated (7). One of the most difficult issues to address is mistrust in the vaccine, due to low health education, inadequate health and general resources, and a political and historical distrust in the government. PNG relies on Australia and New Zealand’s AstraZeneca donations to acquire COVID vaccines, as well as Australian embassy staff to help run pop-up clinics in shopping centres. A Chinese medical team has also been working outside the government to unofficially administer the Sinopharm vaccine at a hospital clinic, leading to speculations of politically-motivated manipulation and interference (8). PNG is caught between two great powers, and the already sceptical PNG people are neglected and uninformed about vaccine efficacy, safety, and choices (9). Low science literacy and mistrust in political institutions have made it extremely difficult to convince people to get vaccinated (10). This has furthered the development of conspiracy theories, which interplay with cultural beliefs around witchcraft and superstitions (11). Despite the recent introduction of the “no jab, no job” policy, people are turning to mass resignations or the acquisition of fraudulent certificates instead of receiving the COVID-19 vaccine (12). Australia recently offered aviation lift services to high priority provinces, delivering much-needed emergency supplies to geographically isolated areas in PNG (13). A lot of work is still needed in order to increase the vaccination uptake rate in PNG. Stronger and more impactful campaign messaging will be required to increase public demand for vaccines (14). Foreign aid and assistance should prioritise effective vaccination and long-term health improvement over political agenda (15). The priority must be to stop the pandemic devastation by getting people vaccinated, and addressing long-term infrastructure, funding, and governance issues. India – great challenges and great ambitions India has the second-largest population in the world and it has struggled to source an adequate number of vaccines for its people. The government was ambitious that local manufacturing of the Indian vaccine Covaxin would be sufficient for domestic consumption. Instead, Bharat Biotech’s newest facility in Bengaluru reports quality issues in its initial batches, leading to a delay and vaccine shortage (16). During the country’s destructive second wave from April to June of 2021, the vaccine shortage was exacerbated by the government hesitating to approve vaccines developed and manufactured overseas. Local supply was also hindered by raw material shortages at the beginning of 2021 (17). While the government has sought higher vaccine administrations, setbacks including delays in manufacture, lack of doses received from overseas, and difficulties in obtaining regulatory approval, have contributed to the delayed and restricted nature of the vaccination program. Initially, the people met the vaccination program with great enthusiasm, and the government aimed to vaccinate all adults against COVID-19 by 31 December 2021. But vaccine uptake has plateaued and declined since October, and there are fears this target will not be met. Many factors have contributed to the decreased vaccine uptake, including vaccine shortage, barriers to vaccination such as lockdowns, high infection rates causing fear of visiting vaccination centres, and misinformation particularly in under-resourced rural areas (18). Although an improved COVID-19 vaccination program could have reduced the severity of the second wave, attention now is on maintaining the vaccination uptake rate. As the Indian government started to offer free vaccinations to all adults, citizens living in poverty have had the chance to be vaccinated as well. While many countries wish to manufacture their own vaccines at a fraction of the cost of the pharmaceutical giants, quality control and quality assurance remain incredibly complex issues to tackle (19). Lower-income countries require sufficient guidance and support, and Shahid Jameel, a virologist from Ashoka University in New Delhi says, ‘We can’t fix vaccine inequalities until vaccine manufacturing is distributed.’ (20) Conclusion Numerous factors impact vaccine uptake, with each country facing its own set of challenges. Mismanagement, limited infrastructure, and rampant misinformation were highlighted here, but there are many problems impacting vaccination programs around the world. Urgently addressing these problems will be needed to reduce vaccination inequality around the world, and hopefully, reach the end of the pandemic very soon. For more information on COVID-19 and the vaccine, please visit the VaxFACTS website created by the University of Melbourne: https://www.vaxfacts.org.au/ References Jake Horton, “Covid Brazil: Why could Bolsonaro face charges?” BBC News, published 27 October, 2021, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-56663217. “Facebook removes video in which Brazil’s Bolsonaro links coronavirus vaccines with AIDS,” Washington Post, published 25 October, 2021, https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/10/25/facebook-papers-live-updates/#link-UA7IQVP5E5D2VGUQX7OJQBCFIE. “Coronavirus (COVID-19) Vaccinations,” Our World in Data, published 26 November, 2021, https://ourworldindata.org/covid-vaccinations?country=OWID_WRL. Mauricio Savarese, “Sinovac vaccine restores a Brazilian city to near normal,” Associated Press News, published 2 June, 2021, https://apnews.com/article/caribbean-brazil-coronavirus-pandemic-business-health-20bd94d28ac7b373d7a8f3f9c557e5b6. “Sinovac vaccine restores a Brazilian city to near normal.” “Sinovac vaccine restores a Brazilian city to near normal.” “Coronavirus (COVID-19) Vaccinations.” Natalie Whiting, “PNG caught in China-Australia power play as COVID-19 Delta variant infiltrates Pacific nation,” ABC News, published 2 August, 2021, https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-08-02/png-caught-between-australia-and-china-as-it-fights-delta/100329206. “PNG caught in China-Australia power play as COVID-19 Delta variant infiltrates Pacific nation.” Mihai Sora, “Overcoming community resistance to vaccination in Papua New Guinea,” The Interpreter, published 26 October, 2021, https://www.lowyinstitute.org/the-interpreter/overcoming-community-resistance-vaccination-papua-new-guinea. Liam Fox and Marian Faa, “Health workers face death threats as COVID-19 vaccine hesitancy takes hold in PNG,” ABC News, published 10 September, 2021, https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-09-10/png-vaccine-hesitancy-papua-new-guinea-covid-19/100444380. Fraser Macdonald, “Just 1.7 per cent of PNG residents are vaccinated against COVID. Why are they so resistant?” SBS News, published 8 November, 2021, https://www.sbs.com.au/news/just-1-7-per-cent-of-png-residents-are-vaccinated-against-covid-why-are-they-so-resistant/72c40029-dec8-4202-b436-31562d983fbc. “COVID-19 partnership with Papua New Guinea strengthened” Minister for Foreign Affairs, published 27 October, 2021, https://www.foreignminister.gov.au/minister/marise-payne/media-release/covid-19-partnership-papua-new-guinea-strengthened. “Overcoming community resistance to vaccination in Papua New Guinea.” “Overcoming community resistance to vaccination in Papua New Guinea.” Sreenivasan Jain, “Quality Issues Behind Covaxin Shortage: Government vaccine panel chief,” New Delhi Television, published 2 August, 2021, https://www.ndtv.com/india-news/quality-issues-behind-covaxin-shortage-government-vaccine-panel-chief-2500998. Shruti Menon, “India vaccination: Does it have enough doses for all adults?” BBC News, published 3 August, 2021, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-55571793. Liji Thomas, “Factors predicrting vaccine hesitancy in India,” News Medical, published 26 September, 2021, https://www.news-medical.net/news/20210926/Factors-predicting-vaccine-hesitancy-in-India.aspx. Amy Maxmen, “The fight to manufacture COVID vaccine in lower-income countries,” Nature, published 16 September, 2021, https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-021-02383-z. “The fight to manufacture COVID vaccine in lower-income countries.” Previous article back to DISORDER Next article