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By Andrew Lim < Back to Issue 3 Hope, Humanity and the Starry Night Sky By Andrew Lim 10 September 2022 Edited by Manfred Cain and Yvette Marris Illustrated by Ravon Chew Next Image 1: The Arecibo Observatory looms large over the forests of Puerto Rico The eerie signal reverberates out over the Caribbean skies, amplified by the telescope below. It oscillates between two odd resonating tones for little more than a couple of minutes, then shuts off. Eminent scholars, government administrators and elected representatives watch in wonderment, their eyes glued open. The forest birds and critters chirp and sing. It is November 16, 1974 – from a little spot in Arecibo, Puerto Rico, Earth is about to pop its head out the door to say ‘hello’. Those sing-song tunes, beamed out into space on modulated radio waves, are a binary message designed for some alien civilisation– a snapshot of humanity in 1679 bits. It sounds like the beginning of a bad sci-fi flick: the kind that ends with little green men coming down in UFOs for a cheap-CGI first contact. But it isn’t, and it doesn’t. Instead, the legacy of those telescope-amplified sounds – that ‘Arecibo Message’ – has a place in history as a symbol of human cooperation, here on Earth rather than in the stars. The message’s unifying vision imbued the famous ‘pale blue dot’ monologue of its co-creator Carl Sagan; and led to the launch of a multi-year international programme designing its successor message 45 years on, presenting extra-terrestrial communication as a mirror of our earth-bound relations. A unified message symbolizing a unified humanity. The previous feature in this series (Discovery, Blue Skies…and Partisan Bickering?) ended with a declaration of nuance: that science in politics matters solely because it transcends partisan bounds with clear analysis. Yet, looking at stories like Arecibo’s, so imbued with human optimism, maybe this cold, logical formulation isn’t enough. Perhaps for all its focus on appropriations bills, initiative funding and flawed infrastructure, that perspective lends insufficient weight to science’s ability to inspire, to cut through the fog of day-to-day policy battles with a beacon of what could yet be. But is this talk of hope just ideological posturing – a triumphant humanism gone mad? Or could there be some merit to its romantic vision of humanity speaking with one voice to the stars? Might it possibly be that science really is the key to bridging our divisions? COOPERATION AMIDST CHAOS Well, why not begin in the times of Arecibo? After all, the interstellar message came at a key moment in the Cold War. Just a few months before, US President Richard Nixon had made his way to Moscow to meet with General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev, leader of the USSR. The signing of a new arms treaty, a decade-long economic agreement and a friendly state dinner at the Kremlin all seemed to indicate a world inching away from the edge of nuclear apocalypse. Such pacifist optimism is found readily in the message’s surrounding documents, with its research proposal speaking glowingly of future messages designed and informed by “international scientific consultations…[similar to] the first Soviet-American conference on communication with extraterrestrial [sic] intelligence.” Indeed, it seems the spirit of the age. Soon after the Arecibo message’s transmission, the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project would see an American Apollo spacecraft docking with a Soviet Soyuz module. Mission commanders Thomas Stafford and Alexei Leonov conducted experiments, exchanged gifts, and even engaged in the world’s first international space handshake – a symbol of shared peace and prosperity for both superpowers. Image 2: Thomas Stafford and Alexei Leonov shake hands on the Apollo-Soyuz mission Apollo-Soyuz marked an effective end to the US-USSR ‘Space Race’ (discussed in Part I of this series), and would lead to successor programmes, including a series of missions where American space shuttles would send astronauts to the Russian space station Mir, and eventually the building of the 21st-century International Space Station (ISS). Science seemed capable of forging cooperation amidst the greatest of disagreements, transcending our human borders and divides. Frank Drake, the designer of the Arecibo Message, was filled with optimism, hoping that his message might herald the beginning of a new age, marked by united scientific discovery and unparalleled human growth. He triumphantly declared to the Cornell Chronicle on the day of its transmission that “the sense that something in the universe is much more clever than we are has preceded almost every important advance in applied technology. SCIENTIFIC SPHERES OF INTEREST Yet this rose-tinted vision of science as the great mediator perhaps has a few more cracks in it than its advocates like to admit. Even at the height of Nixon’s Cold War détente, science was not pure intellectual collaboration. Henry Kissinger, Nixon’s National Security Advisor and later Secretary of State, pioneered ‘triangular diplomacy’, the art of playing adversaries off against one another with alternating threats and incentives. In later years, he would declare that “it was always better for [the US] to be closer to either Moscow or Peking than either was to the other”. And as he opened channels of communication with China, it was science that would pave the way for a stronger relationship. In the Shanghai Communique negotiated on Nixon’s 1972 trip to China, both sides “discussed specific areas in such fields as science [and] technology…in which people-to-people contacts and exchanges would be mutually beneficial [and] undert[ook] to facilitate the further development of [them].” Scientific collaboration (often manipulated by spy agencies from the CIA to the KGB) was the carrot beside the military stick – a central part of building alliances in a world of realpolitik. To Kissinger and his colleagues, the world was to be divided into Image 3: US President Richard Nixon shakes hands with CCP Chairman Mao Zedong in China in 1972 spheres of influence, even in times of peace – and science was best used as a way of strengthening and shoring up your own prosperity. It is a realist view of science diplomacy that continues to this day, with US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton noting in Image 4: Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi meets with his Cambodian counterpart Prak Sokhonn in September 2021, pledging additional aid and vaccine doses. 2014 that “educational exchanges, cultural tours and scientific collaboration…may garner few headlines, but… [can] influence the next generation of U.S. and [foreign] leaders in a way no other initiative can match”. To both Clinton and Kissinger, science is an instrument of foreign policy, whether deployed overtly in winning over current governments or more subtly in shaping the views of future ones. For them, amidst competing interests and simmering tensions, we ignore science’s soft power at our own peril. Just look at China’s distribution over Sinovac COVID-19 vaccines in the pandemic. In October 2020, January 2021 and September 2021, Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi went on tours of Southeast Asia, promising vaccine aid while pushing closer connections between China and the rest of Asia. Last year, it was estimated that China had promised a total of over 255 million vaccine doses – a key step in building stronger economic and military ties in an increasingly tense region. Indeed, in mid-2021, just as concerns about Chinese vaccine efficacy grew, US President Joe Biden announced “half [a] billion doses with no strings attached…[no] pressure for favours, or potential concessions” from the sidelines of a G7 Summit. Secretary of Defence Lloyd Austin travelled across Southeast Asia. In the the Philippines he renewed a military deal just as a new shipment of vaccines was announced – a clear indicator of the linkage between medical and military diplomacy, something reinforced when Vice President Kamala Harris landed in Singapore later that year to declare the US “an arsenal of safe and effective vaccines for our entire world.” Australia is key to vaccine diplomacy too. On his visit here earlier this year, US Secretary of State Antony Blinken made a point of visiting the University of Melbourne’s Biomedical Precinct to talk about COVID-19, declaring on Australian television that our nation was central to “looking Image 5: United States Secretary of State Lloyd J Austin III meets with Philippines President Rodrigo Duterte in July 2021 for negotiations on renewing the Visiting Forces Agreement at the problems that afflict our people as well as the opportunities…dealing with COVID…[in] new coalitions [and] new partnerships.” These views are backed up locally too. Sitting down for an exclusive interview with OmniSci Magazine last year, Dr Amanda Caples, Lead Scientist of Victoria, was keen to characterise her work in terms of these developments, reminding us that Victoria had been key to “improving the understanding of the immunology and epidemiology of the virus, developing vaccines and treatments and leading research into the social impact of the pandemic”, and emphasising Australia’s national interest, declaring that “global policymakers understand that a high performing science and research system benefits the broader economy…science and research contribute to jobs and prosperity for all rather than just the few.” Science, it seems, whether in vaccines, trade or exchanges, just like fifty years ago, is again to be a key tool for grand strategy and national interests. Image 6: Dr Amanda Caples, Lead Scientist of Victoria ARGUMENTS AND ARMS But perhaps even this might be too optimistic an outlook – for that simmering balance of power occasionally boils over. We need only to look at what happened when the détente of Nixon and Brezhnev was dashed to pieces with the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979. The policy was roundly condemned as sheer naïveté in the face of wily adversaries, with President Ronald Reagan later describing détente in a radio address as “what a farmer has with his turkey – until Thanksgiving Day”. Science was the first target for diplomatic attacks. After the invasion, Senator Robert Dole (R-KS) launched legislation barring the National Science Foundation from funding trips to the USSR. And the push seemed bipartisan, with Representative George Brown Jr. (D-CA-36) proposing a House Joint Resolution enacting an immediate “halt [to] official travel related to scientific and technical cooperation with the Soviet Union”. Image 7: Russia’s cosmonauts board the ISS on 18th March 2022, shortly before Russia ends its participation in the program Now, as we face war on the European continent, even the ISS – the descendant of Apollo-Soyuz’s seemingly-apolitical scientific endeavours – seems to be falling apart spectacularly. On April 2 this year, Roscosmos, the Russian space agency, announced that it would be ending its participation in the ISS program, demanding a “full and unconditional removal of…sanctions” imposed over the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Earlier in the year, Roscosmos’ Director General Dmitry Rogozin openly suggested on Twitter that the ISS being without Russian involvement would lead to “an uncontrolled deorbit and fall [of the station] into the United States or Europe”, alluding to “the option of dropping a 500-ton structure [on] India and China.” Rogozin’s threats became even more pronounced as the war continued, with Roscosmos producing a video depicting Russia’s two astronauts on the station not bringing NASA astronaut Mark Vande Hei back to Earth with them (American astronauts primarily go to and return from space via Russian Soyuz capsules). Shared by Russian state news, its chilling final scenes show the Russian segment of the ISS detaching too, with Vande Hei presumably left to die in space aboard the station. Such attacks need not remain rhetorical, either. Scientific advancements have long been tied to weaponry and defence systems, with mathematicians and physicists from John Littlewood to Richard Feynman involved in making bombs and ballistics in times of war. Even Arecibo, that bastion of a united humanity, began life as a Department of Defence initiative detecting Soviet ballistic missiles. Today, the AUKUS defence partnership – one of the most significant Indo-Pacific defence developments in recent memory – centres on sharing nuclear submarine science and technology, promising scientific cooperation regarding “cyber capabilities, artificial intelligence, quantum technologies, and additional undersea capabilities”. Even if induced by factors beyond our control, such weapons-based science is a far cry from the pacifist ideals of the Arecibo message. Thus, perhaps this messy reality is more central to our science than we like to admit. From the ISS to Australia’s waters, science still is intertwined with conflict and frequently co-opted by geopolitical actors in times of renewed aggression. Science at its worst is mere weaponry. But at its best, it speaks to something greater. HOPE IN THE DARKNESS In June 1977, the world was far from diplomatically stagnant. From the rumblings of Middle Eastern peace (what became the Camp David Accords) to new hopes of nuclear arms reduction, US President Jimmy Carter had quite the array of diplomatic dilemmas to consider. But amidst all that cold politics, he penned a letter to be sent on board the spacecraft Voyager, now the furthest manmade object from our solar system, declaring “We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours…This record represents our hope and our determination, and our good will in a vast and awesome universe.” And if this magazine has purported to speak to the ‘alien’ – far removed from our human lives - then perhaps we have discovered quite the opposite: that looking out up there is so much about looking in down here. Science presents a way we can look out at the alien and see ourselves – “survive our time…into yours”, finding a path ahead reflected in the inky blackness above. We are often constrained by time and circumstance, forced in the face of nefarious actors to compromise our idealism and use science as a mere weapon or tool. Discovery for discovery’s sake is frequently the first casualty when battle lines are drawn and aggression begun, and too often the political pessimism of the scientist can seem overpowering. But if the stories of broken détentes, diplomatic realpolitik and weaponised technology have made it all feel inevitable, then perhaps it is worth considering the story we began with, looking up into the night sky and remembering that somewhere amidst the stars is a tiny warble in the electromagnetic spectrum. Long after the funds and papers that forged it have faded away, after the people who wrote it have perished, it will continue. In its odd combination of ones and zeroes, it will represent humanity: our contradictions and our fears, our constant foibles and infighting, but also our occasional glimpses of a future beyond them. A signal…a reminder that when the times, the people Image 8: President Jimmy Carter’s message, sent aboard Voyager, the furthest man-made probe from Earth and the ideas line up just right, science can be the torchbearer for something greater. Something so rare that amidst all the ills of the world, it often seems non-existent, and so powerful that over two millennia ago, Aeschylus himself deemed it the very thing given to humanity by Prometheus to save us from destruction – the ideal that transformed us from mortals fixated on ourselves and our deaths to a civilisation capable of great things. “τυφλὰς…ἐλπίδας”, he called it: blind hope. A handshake in a capsule. A life-saving jab on board a ship. A binary message in a bottle, out among the stars. Fleeting images – not of what we are, but of what we can be: visions of blind hope, that sheer belief that we can grow past our worst violent impulses and reach out into the great beyond. Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s naïve. But, on a brisk fall evening, looking out at a sky full of stars, each one more twinkling than the last, it’s easy to stop and imagine…maybe it’s the only thing that matters. Andrew Lim is an Editor and Feature Writer with OmniSci Magazine and led the team behind the Australian Finalist Submission to the New Arecibo Message Challenge. Image Credits (in order): National Atmospheric and Ionosphere Centre; National Aeronautics and Space Administration; National Archives Nixon White House Photo Office Collection; Kith Serey/Pool via Reuters; Malacanang Presidential Photo via Reuters; The Office of the Lead Scientist of Victoria; AP; National Aeronautics and Space Administration Previous article Next article alien back to

By Juulke Castelijn < Back to Issue 3 Believing in aliens... A science? By Juulke Castelijn 10 September 2022 Edited by Tanya Kovacevic and Ashleigh Hallinan Illustrated by Quynh Anh Nguyen Next The question of the existence of ‘intelligent life forms’ on a planet other than ours has always been one of belief. And I did not believe. It was probably the image of a green blob with multiple arms and eyes squelching across the ground and emitting noises unidentifiable as any form of language which turned me off the whole idea. But a book I read one day completely changed my mind; it wasn’t about space at all, but about evolution. ‘Science in the Soul’ is a collection of works written by the inimitable Richard Dawkins, a man who has argued on behalf of evolutionary theory for decades. Within its pages, you will find essays, articles and speeches from throughout his career, all with the target of inspiring deep rational thought in the field of science. A single essay gives enough food for thought to last the mind many days, but the ease and magnificence of Dawkin’s prose encourages the devourment of many pages in a single sitting. The reader becomes engulfed in scientific argument, quickly and completely. Dawkins shows the fundamental importance of the proper understanding of evolution as not just critical to biology, but society at large. Take, for instance, ‘Speaking up for science: An open letter to Prince Charles,’ in which he argues against the modelling of agricultural practices on natural processes as a way of combating climate change. Even if agriculture could be in itself a natural practice (it can’t), nature, Dawkins argues, is a terrible model for longevity. Instead, nature is ‘a short-term Darwinian profiteer’. Here he refers to the mechanism of natural selection, where offspring have an increased likelihood of carrying the traits which favoured their parents’ survival. Natural selection is a reflective process. At a population level, it highlights those genetic traits that increased chances of survival in the past. There is no guarantee those traits will benefit the current generation at all, let alone future generations. Instead, Dawkins argues, science is the method by which new solutions to climate change are found. Whilst we cannot see the future, a rational application of a wealth of knowledge gives us a far more sensitive approach than crude nature. Well, perhaps not crude per se. If anyone is an advocate for the beauty and complexity of natural life, it is surely Dawkins. But a true representation of nature, he argues, rests on the appreciation of evolution as a blinded process, with no aim or ambition, and certainly no pre-planned design. With this stance, Dawkins directly opposes Creationism as an explanation of how the world emerged, a battle from which he does not shy away. Evolution is often painted as a theory in which things develop by chance, randomly. When you consider the complexity of a thing such as the eye, no wonder people prefer to believe in an intelligent designer, like a god, instead. But evolution is not dependent on chance at all, a fact Dawkins argues many times throughout his collection. There is nothing random about the body parts that make up modern humans, or any other living thing - they have been passed down from generation to generation because they enhanced our ancestors’ survival. The underlying logic is unrivalled, including by religion. But that doesn’t mean Dawkins is not a man of belief. Dawkins believes in the existence of intelligent extraterrestrial life, and for one reason above all: given the billions upon billions of planets in our universe, the chance of our own evolution would have to be exceedingly small if there was no other life out there. In other words, we believe there is life out there because we do not believe our own evolution to be so rare as to only occur once. Admittedly, it is not a new argument but it had not clicked for me before. Perhaps it was Dawkins’ poetic phrasing. At this stage it is a belief, underlined by a big ‘if’. How could we ever know if there are intelligent life forms on a planet other than Earth? Dawkins provides an answer here too. You probably won’t be surprised that the answer is science, specifically a knowledge of evolution. We do not have to discover life itself, only a sign of something that marks intelligence - a machine or language, say. Evolution remains our only plausible theory of how such a thing could be created, because it can explain the formation of an intelligent being capable of designing such things. We become the supporting evidence of life somewhere else in the universe. That’s satisfying enough for me. Previous article Next article alien back to

< Back to Issue 7 Interstellar Overdrive: Secrets of our Distant Universe by Sarah Ibrahimi 22 October 2024 edited by Hendrick Lin illustrated by Amanda Agustinus “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known” - Carl Sagan Humanity's innate curiosity and desire of uncovering the unknown has been the spark for mankind's explorations since the beginning of time. From Columbus' expedition across the Atlantic to discover the New World, to Armstrong's first steps on the Moon's surface, we have experienced technological advancement at a lightning pace over the course of human history. Perhaps the most enthralling of these advances has been the scientific quest to unveil the true nature of our universe - the stars, the planets and the beings that exist within it and far beyond. And now, a novel and revolutionary tool has been developed to deepen our understanding of the cosmos. The James Webb Space Telescope (JWST) developed by NASA is the largest of its kind to ever be placed in space. Launched on Christmas Day in 2021 on board the Ariane 5 rocket, it travelled 1.5 million kilometres equipped with various high-resolution and high-sensitivity instruments, allowing scientists the ability to capture detailed infrared astronomical images of our old and distant universe (NASA, 2022a). In a matter of less than a year, the deepest infrared image known to mankind was produced. Named Webb's First Deep Field, it was unveiled by U.S. President Joe Biden on June 11th, 2022 at the White House, encapsulating never-before-seen perspectives of our universe. With this revelation, a new gateway has been opened into answering the countless questions of the early universe pondered by astrophysicists and the public alike. Confronting viewers with an array of contrasting colours and eccentric shapes, Webb’s First Deep Field can be hard to interpret ( figure 1 ). Figure 1. Webb’s First Deep Field: SMACS 07223 Note. From/Adapted from Webb’s First Deep Field: SMACS 07223 [photo] by James Webb Space Telescope. NASA, 2022b. https://webbtelescope.org/contents/media/images/2022/035/01G7DCWB7137MYJ05CSH1Q5Z1Z?page=1&keyword=smac Copyright 2022, NASA. But with a careful eye and some clever detective work, we can begin to decipher the secrets contained within. For example, the bright lights depicting what appear to be stars are rather entire galaxies, each a gateway to billions of stars. In addition, Webb’s Near-Infrared Camera (NIRCam) is able to capture distant galaxies with the sharpest focus to date, unravelling important features from their faint complexities. Appreciation for this image increases exponentially once we begin to comprehend the magnitude of its importance - it depicts the galaxy cluster, SMACS 0723, exactly as it looked 4.6 billion years ago! In other words, this image is a glimpse back to a time well before humans or any life forms existed. Amongst the myriad of initial images produced by JWST, one particular point of interest would be the Southern Ring Nebula illustrating the dying NGC 3132 star ( figure 2 ). This can be seen through the expulsion of its gases and outer layers, producing striking imagery through Webb’s NIRCam. Viewers may also notice the bright lights representing individual galaxies in the nebula's background - again, not to be mistaken as stars. JWST’s ability to capture such a pivotal point in the trajectory of a star's life is crucial in assisting scientists to calculate the volumes of gas and dust present, as well as their unique molecular compositions. Figure 2. Southern Ring Nebula captured by JWST Note. From/Adapted from Southern Ring Nebula [photo] by James Webb Space Telescope. NASA, 2022c. https://webbtelescope.org/contents/media/images/2022/033/01G70BGTSYBHS69T7K3N3ASSEB Copyright 2022, NASA. The efforts to produce such groundbreaking images and insights into the universe did not happen overnight. The Hubble Space Telescope, launched in 1990, was an important predecessor to the JWST. Whether it was confirming the existence of black holes, or the Nobel Prize winning discovery demonstrating the accelerating rate of expansion of the universe, the Hubble Space Telescope laid the foundations for the JWST to flourish. These marvellations revealed by the JWST would also not be possible without the efforts of countless scientists to improve the technological potential of the Hubble Telescope. As a result of these developments, JWST contains a larger primary mirror, deeper infrared vision, and is optimised for longer ultraviolet and visible wavelengths, all with the aim to increase the telescope’s ability to capture profound images of our universe. Nonetheless, a number of hypotheses relevant to matters such as dark energy, exoplanets, and infrared astrophysics remain unanswered. As a next step forward, the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope is set to launch in 2027 with the capacity to produce a panoramic view two hundred times greater than the infrared view generated by Hubble and JWST. The questions that continue to itch our minds remain limitless. As Einstein once lamented, "the more I learn, the more I realise how much I don't know”. There is still so much that remains to be discovered. However, the JWST illustrates that through collaborative scientific efforts, humankind can begin to unravel the many mysteries that govern our universe, one galaxy at a time. References NASAa. (2022, July 12). NASA’s Webb Delivers Deepest Infrared Image of Universe yet. https://www.nasa.gov/image-article/nasas-webb-delivers-deepest-infrared-image-of-universe-yet/ NASAb. (2022, July 11). Webb’s First Deep Field . Webb Space Telescope. https://webbtelescope.org/contents/media/images/2022/035/01G7DCWB7137MYJ05CSH1Q5Z1Z?page=1&keyword=smac NASAc. (2022, July 11). Southern Ring Nebula. Webb Space Telescope. https://webbtelescope.org/contents/media/images/2022/033/01G70BGTSYBHS69T7K3N3ASSEB Previous article Next article apex back to

The body, et cetera Wiggling Ears By Rachel Ko Ever wondered why we have a tailbone but no tail, or wisdom teeth with nothing to chew with them? This column delves into our useless body parts that make us living evidence for evolution- this issue, ear wiggling. Edited by Irene Lee, Ethan Newnham & Jessica Nguy Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Quynh Anh Nguyen Human beings fancy ourselves to be quite an intelligent species. With our relatively enormous brains and intricate handling of the five senses, we like to believe that the things we see, touch, smell, taste, and hear, define the boundaries of our universe. Yet, evidence of our shortcomings exists in plain sight on our own bodies. This becomes even more prominent when compared to the furry companions we often assume we are superior to. After living together for almost a decade, my dog is rather sick of me. While she is educated enough to know her name, I no longer even get a turn of a head when I call her. Often, the only response I receive is a wiggle of the ears as she turns them towards me. I, the source of sound, must wait as she considers whether my call for attention is worthy of her time. In this scenario, my dog’s ego might not be the only thing giving her superiority - in the realm of ear wiggling, her abilities are anatomically unattainable to us mere humans. The muscles responsible for this skill are the auriculares, with the anterior controlling upwards and forwards movement, the superior controlling the upwards and downwards movement, and finally the posterior pulling them backwards (1). In other species such as dogs, cats and horses, these muscles have evolved to become intricate over generations, with dogs manoeuvring their ears using 18 muscles, and cats using more than 30 (2). In most human beings, voluntary control of the ears has been almost entirely lost. For the 15 percent (3) of us who can wiggle our ears, the trait is vestigial – effectively useless, except for perhaps readjusting your glasses without using your hands. Despite this, ear wiggling was once a useful functional trait in our ancestral Homo species. Tracing back more than 150 million years (4), a common ancestor of mammals learnt to pivot and curl their ears for evolutionary advantage. It is theorised that before we walked upright, our own primate predecessors directed their ears in response to sound (5). This allowed them to pinpoint sources of danger that were hard to locate while moving on all fours. It was a mechanism comparable to when big cats, like those often featured in Attenborough documentaries, perk up their ears as they prowl through the grasslands. In fact, most of our mammalian relatives (6), other than our closest ape family, have preserved some level of ear wiggling ability, from foxes and wolves to lemurs and koalas. The deterioration of human ear-wiggling began with the emergence of bipedalism. As our ancestors lifted upright, off their knuckles and onto two feet, their entire centre of gravity shifted. This awarded them a wider scope of vision and diurnal activity (7), meaning they began to primarily operate during the day, so humans began relying on vision for many important things: hunting, protecting and surviving. Ear-wiggling's role in showing emotional expressions, such as anger or fear (8), was also replaced with gestures of the hands that were now free to be swung about. With no need for the sophisticated ear machinery that evolution had equipped us with, human beings’ ability to move our ears diminished, while our eyesight drastically improved. It seems that over time, the ear-orienting ability in humans simply died out with evolution. We have not let go of it completely, though. Interestingly, Homo sapiens have retained the neural circuits that were once responsible for ear movement. In the journal Psychophysiology by Steve Hackley (9), a cognitive neuroscientist at the University of Missouri, remnants of this neural circuitry were observed in clinical studies. When stimulated by an unexpected sound, the muscles behind the corresponding ears twitched and curled. Similarly, distraction with sounds of bird songs while attempting a set task kick-started bursts of ear muscle activity. While ear wiggling is no longer required for our survival, we exist as evolutionary fossils. As humans, we now have other options in well-established senses while hearing remains a dominant form of sensory input in other species – a very well-refined one too, if my dog’s ability to recognise the sound of her treat packet opening is anything to go by. While the only thing human ear-wigglers have is a cool party trick, our furry friends have mastered intricate ear control, giving them a paw up on us at least in this race. References: 1. "Auricularis Superior Anatomy, Function & Diagram | Body Maps". 2021. Healthline. https://www.healthline.com/human-body-maps/auricularis-superior#1. 2. "10 Things You Didn’T Know About Cats And Dogs". 2021. Vetsource. https://vetsource.com/news/10-things-you-didnt-know-about-cats-and-dogs/. 3. "Why Can Some People Wiggle Their Ears?". 2021. Livescience.Com. https://www.livescience.com/33809-wiggle-ears.html. 4, 7, 8. Gross, Rachel. 2021. "Your Vestigial Muscles Try To Pivot Your Ears Just Like A Dog’S". Slate Magazine. 5. "Understanding Genetics". 2021. Genetics.Thetech.Org. https://genetics.thetech.org/ask-a-geneticist/wiggling-your-ears. 6. Saarland University. "Our animal inheritance: Humans perk up their ears, too, when they hear interesting sounds." ScienceDaily. www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2020/07/200707113337.htm. 9. Hackley, Steven A. 2015. "Evidence For A Vestigial Pinna-Orienting System In Humans". Psychophysiology 52 (10): 1263-1270. doi:10.1111/psyp.12501.

Bored of that one topic you need to keep revising? Read our chat with Elijah McEvoy about getting inspired by all areas of science, his sci-fi movie recommendations, and hear about his upcoming article about artificial intelligence. Elijah is a writer and editor at OmniSci and a second-year Bachelor of Science student. For Issue 4: Mirage, he is writing about artificial intelligence that masquerades as human, and contributing to two articles as an editor. Mee t OmniSci Writer and Editor Elijah McEvoy Elijah is a writer and editor at OmniSci and a second-year Bachelor of Science student. For Issue 4: Mirage, he is writing about artificial intelligence that masquerades as human, and contributing to two articles as an editor. interviewed by Caitlin Kane What are you studying? Bachelor of Science, looking to major in infection and immunity. I still have some back ups, but that’s looking to be the path. I’m in second year, first semester. Do you have any advice for younger students interested in what you’re studying or more generally? The Bachelor of Science is really, really good. That’s my suggestion. If you’re someone like me who loves all areas of science and was a bit unsure about what path I wanted to go down, then science is really great to explore all those opportunities. What first got you interested in science? I would say probably science fiction movies. I saw Jurassic Park when I was really young and my parents bought it for me on DVD. I found all that science-y background to it very interesting and obviously those stories gets you engaged… What's the scientific backing behind that? That would probably be very early what got me interested in science. Did you always imagine that you would study science formally, or this kind of science? Not exactly. I’ve had the science pathway in mind for a long time, but there were a lot of things in high school that made me consider whether I did or didn’t want to do it. I found writing very interesting in high school, and I was considering whether I do science or I don’t do science… In the end, I’ve found everything that I’m learning so fascinating and I love the ability that I’m continuing to learn everyday in science and that my perspective continues to grow. And the final pathway… is something that’s relatively new. COVID got me interested in studying viruses and microbiology and the management of those situations as well. That is a bit more of a new thing, but all build off continuing to learn and do things in science. What would be your dream role as a scientist? Do you have a job in mind after your studies? I’m a bit undecided… A dream role of mine would definitely involve learning new things, where I can communicate and work in a position that’s not just in a lab or doing continuous research. Something where I can take the stuff learnt in a lab, figured out in a laboratory and apply it to society as a whole, whether working in government or with organisations in public health particularly infection and immunity. What is your role at OmniSci? I’m writing an article for the magazine… I’ve always loved writing and it’s given me an outlet to pursue a bit of writing in a scientific field, which is something very exciting that I’m passionate about. I would describe [editing] as a really great opportunity to work with someone else to hone their idea. I find it very interesting to see what other people's ideas about other aspects of science are and get informed through them, to encourage their opinions and ideas, and the way they express that. Are there other roles you would be interested in trying in the future? Or any other topics you are interested in writing about? Yes, there probably would be. I’ve always found… if you go back to Jurassic park, genetic engineering is always an interesting topic to cover. Particularly one that is growing and growing nowadays with greater access to it. I find all of this very interesting, the science behind genetic engineering… functional and ethical applications, all those questions. How did you get involved with OmniSci? I saw it on the initial club listing in first year, but I don't think anything came out of it… I was trying to figure my way around university as a whole. Then at the start of the year, I made a commitment to myself that I wanted to get involved a bit more. I saw it again in the club listing website and I checked out the website and saw how many people were involved and had different roles and came from different science backgrounds and I thought “oh this looks like a very accepting club and organisation to get involved with” and just signed up! I saw the welcome night that you guys were having and went along to that and decided I wanted to get involved. What is your favourite thing about contributing at OmniSci so far, or something that you’re looking forward to? Giving myself an outlet to learn new things. What I’m writing about isn’t really within my field of science particularly, but it’s a topic I’ve chosen because I find it interesting and it’s encouraged me to go on and learn a lot more about that. But not only that, it’s encouraged me to talk with other people at OmniSci that do know a bit more and can share their opinions. It’s really helped me guide what research I do and where I go from there. That’s probably my favourite thing: giving myself an excuse to learn a bit more about science through writing. Can you give us a sneak peak or pitch of what you're working on this issue? If there’s a lot to come, maybe just what stage you’re up to in the process? Within the theme of mirage, it’s specifically about artificial intelligence that is able to mimic human ability, whether that be human speech, human personality, how we look through deep fake photos and generative AI technology. And looking at how that could potentially impact different wings of life, and how that can be exploited. I mainly go into general discussion of those sort of things and the potential, but I do end on the idea of what needs to be done considering how fast this AI is progressing, and whether regulation is necessary in order to ensure that human work is protected and us as humans are not being exploited by some of the potential applications from this technology. What do you like doing in your spare time (when you're not contributing at OmniSci)? I’m a big movie person. I watch as many movies as possible and I discuss movies with friends… making the most of the student movie nights and cheap deals. Seeing as many movies as possible from a variety of backgrounds. I also like writing. I do a bit of writing in my spare time, but mostly movies. Do you have any movie recommendations? Big question. I love horror movies so if you’re looking for a horror movie I recommend ‘Hereditary’, it’s my favourite horror movie. I guess within the realm of scifi and even artificial intelligence, a really good one that I saw is Ex Machina. Which chemical element would you name your firstborn child (or pet) after? I should be able to think of one—I’m a biochemistry student! Fluorine sounds interesting. Fluora could be a nickname. Yeah, something that you can shorten down. Read Elijah's articles Real Life Replicants

How should scientific research and political legislation interact, and what role should they play in public discourse? Climate Change, Vaccines & Lockdowns: How and Why Science Has Become a Polarising Political Debate By Mia Horsfall In light of the compounding climate crisis and the COVID-19 pandemic, the discussion around how we implement scientific research into political realms is growing, and with it, the controversy. But perhaps the debate surrounding such contentious issues reveals more about how we communicate our science than the quality of the science itself. Edited by Yen Sim & Andrew Lim Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Janna Dingle The degree to which public rhetoric morphs and formulates enactment of scientific research in topics such as climate change, energy politics and vaccinations has become increasingly evident in recent years, as evidenced by polarising public debates surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic and the ‘School Strike’ movements. The ‘apocalyptic narratives’ employed by climate protesters are often combated with condescension and intellectual elitism propagated by political figures, resulting in a remarkably detached exchange of dialogue and a good deal of reticence but an overwhelming lack of progress. Reluctance to accept COVID-19 vaccinations and lockdowns is indicative more of a dogmatic belief in exertion of liberty at all costs rather than a measured comprehension of the implications of such decisions. Likewise, discussions surrounding implementation of nuclear power showcase the disconnect between scientific research and economic policy making, resulting in conflict and frustration as the two struggle to reconcile. The role of science in political, legal and social spheres is contingent upon public discourses surrounding its relevance and remains largely subservient to public opinion. Scientific matters should increasingly, “be studied in relation to how they impact social structures,” (Holmberg & Alvinius, 2020) and it is in this way we can hope to understand the dimorphic nature of research and its intersection with political and social implications. To understand how scientific discourse shifts from a research-centric discussion to a tool to uphold political ideology, it is crucial to deconstruct the rhetoric utilised by opposing sides of the climate debate to advance support for their cause. Examination of the discourse on different sides of the ‘School Strike’ movement ironically reveals that both sides stem from the same source: an analysis of the authority of youth in political spheres. The succinct, punchy statements used to endorse student climate advocacy relish in the youth of the protesters – “you’ll die of old age, we’ll die of climate change”, “I’d be in school if the earth was cool”, “it’s getting hot in here so take off all your coals,'' (Kamarck, 2019). By focusing the targets of the movement on ‘abstract’ actors such as legal, political and economic ecosystems, the movement distances itself from the accepted scientific consensus and focuses on the issue of the mobilisation of policymakers in climate action. These ‘apocalyptic narratives’ do not question the authority of the science communicated, instead hinging their argument upon the challenge of inciting political change from a youth-driven movement. Their narrative relies on the distinct lack of political influence historically held by youth, and satirises the predicted response of politicians such as the then Federal Minister for Education Dan Tehan who asserted that the strikes were orchestrated by professional activists and children were missing valuable class time (Perinotto & Johnston, 2019). The difficulty then posed is that formulating the protester’s messages from a place of pathos drives the argument further away from the scientifically enforced urgency and enables politically interested individuals to divert the argument from one of scientific claim to one about challenging the authority of youth to speak with regards to politics. Prime Minister Scott Morrison’s suggestion to the school strikers to, “get a bit of context and perspective,” (Perinotto & Johnston, 2019), is saturated not only with elitism but an enforcement of the notion of political superiority, that some knowledge remains incomprehensible to the public sphere and is privy only to the select few. It remains, then, that the biggest obstacle in the school strikers’ position is the unification of scientific authorities, politicians and the emotionally driven and passionate youth. But perhaps the politicisation of climate change has more to do with political dichotomisation than the controversy of the science itself. Chinn, Hart and Soroka assert that, “beliefs about climate change have become a marker of partisan affiliation,” (Chinn, Hart, & Soroka 2020), and this is not the only realm of scientific contention to become politicised. Opposition to government-mandated lockdowns, vaccinations and regulations of genetic modification of food all stem from one crucial point of difference in belief; the degree to which the government should have the ability to regulate everyday happenings of our lives. This is not a new phenomenon. This key difference is at the heart of bipartisanship and is the central debate in almost every political issue. So perhaps the issue is not inherently the politicisation of scientific discourse, as implementation of policy in reference to new scientific findings will inevitably become politicised, but the monotonous rhetoric employed by the left and the right. As Kamarck upholds, “it is the lack of trust in government that may be one of the foundational barriers to effective environmental action,” (Kamarck, 2019). If we take the intent of science as being to seek a degree of objective insight about the nature of the world and its happenings, it will naturally lead to division in political climates saturated by individual motivation and greed. A 2020 American study utilised word frequency analysis software of articles from four major newspapers (New York Times, Chicago Tribune, Los Angeles Times and The Washington Post) to quantitatively determine the number of times scientists’ names were mentioned in regard to phrases such as ‘global warming’ or ‘fracking’, in comparison to politicians (see Figure 1 & 2). Whilst this understandably has to do with matters of climate policy making and does not in and of itself convey an image of the politicised nature of the debate, it does provide significant insight into the shifting obstacles faced in attaining climate action. What provides significantly greater insight is an analysis conducted of the language variance within the media of the parties across the years. From this data, we see that whilst the difference in rhetoric across the two major parties is significant, it is also largely unchanging. It is this divide in political narratives that fosters a sense of distrust and scepticism amongst individuals. Where more left-leaning parties emphasise the social inequalities that will be expounded upon as the consequences of climate change compound, conservatively leaning parties perpetuate the notion that climate action stipulates a greater control of the government on energy politics and enables less agency to the individual. In their narrative, the economic consequences outweigh the benefit of transition to renewable energy systems. From such polarised discourse, it becomes apparent that the way science operates within social spheres has more to do with pre-existing flaws in systemic structures than the quality of the science itself. Figure 1 (2) Figure 2 (2) Of course, a key consideration of how political and activist narratives impact the science that is upheld is through the medialisation of science. ‘Medialisation’ is the concept that science and media should engage in a reciprocal relationship, where scientists use media for broader impact and to advocate for more public funding while the media relies on interest to propagate scientific breakthroughs (Scheufele, 2014). The utility of science comes only from what is accepted and implemented in public opinion, hence scientific practice continues to grow into these frameworks, particularly in discussions around climate change or gene editing technologies. Ultimately, as Scheufele asserts, “the production of reliable knowledge about the natural world has always been a social and political endeavour,” (Scheufele, 2014), one that the media capitalises on to make as economical as possible. That is, it is in most media outlets’ interest to frame politics and science as being at odds with each other as, “coverage increases dramatically if and when issues become engulfed in political or societal controversy,” (Scheufele, 2014). Whilst science cannot and should never be removed from subjugation to moral scrutiny, discourse remains dominated by discussion surrounding the legitimacy of those advocating for one side or the other, rather than the quality of the science itself. Of course bias exists in media outlets , but is propagated by the bias of the consumers, as a consequence of ‘motivated reasoning’. That is, individuals subconsciously place more weight upon information that confirms pre-existing viewpoints and divert more energy into finding flawed reasoning for all that does not concur with preconceived perceptions. The result is a positive feedback loop that is hard to curtail. Individuals form opinions from information they are exposed to in the media, subconsciously seek further information to fortify their initial opinion, leading to opinion reinforcement. In this way, microcosmic ‘mediated realities’ form, each individual inhabiting a vastly different scientific landscape than those of the opposite opinion. In these realities, it is the implications of policy making rather than objective reasoning about the science itself that prevails, resulting in scientific breakthrough perpetually existing subserviently to the opinion of the people, irrespective of whether that opinion is informed. This consequently influences what scientific research is allocated what proportion of public funding, inadvertently providing a quantitative discriminator in what ‘sides’ are upheld in the media. So, what role should science play in political discourse? How do we ensure a mediation of scientific advice and democratic decision making? Darrin Durant of the University of Melbourne unpacks this question, deliberating on whether science should assume a ‘servant’ or ‘partner’ role when it exists within public discourse. Durant argues that if science were to assume the role of a servant (acting in an advisory position to politics), public perception would descend into a degree of populism, overrun by conspiracists and anti-pluralists. Rather, if it were to exist as a ‘partner’, legitimising the authority held by scientific figures, a degree of objectivity could be applied to an otherwise dynamic and transient political landscape. It is only by bridging the political dichotomy that prevails in media and social spheres that scientific discourse will cease to fall prey to political weaponization, existing as a level-ground for rational debate rather than morphing in accordance with ideology. References: Alvinius, A & Holmberg, A. (2020). Children’s protest in relation to the climate emergency: A qualitative study on a new form of resistance promoting political and social change. SAGE Journals. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/0907568219879970. Chinn, S., Hart, P., & Soroka, S. (2020). Politicization and Polarization in Climate Change News Content, 1985-2017. SAGE Journals. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1075547019900290. Durant, D. (2018). Servant or partner? The role of expertise and knowledge in democracy. The Conversation.https://theconversation.com/servant-or-partner-the-role-of-expertise-and-knowledge-in-democracy-92026. Durant, D. (2021). Who are you calling 'anti-science'? How science serves social and political agendas. The Conversation. https://theconversation.com/who-are-you-calling-anti-science-how-science-serves-social-and-political-agendas-74755 . Feldman, H. (2020). A rhetorical perspective on youth environmental activism. Jcom.sissa.it. Retrieved 11 September 2021, from https://jcom.sissa.it/sites/default/files/documents/JCOM_1906_2020_C07.pdf . Kamarck, E. (2019). The challenging politics of climate change. Brookings. https://www.brookings.edu/research/the-challenging-politics-of-climate-change/ . Perinotto, T., & Johnston, P. (2019). What our leaders said about the school climate change strike. The Fifth Estate. https://thefifthestate.com.au/urbanism/climate-change-news/what-our-leaders-said-about-the-school-climate-change-strike/ . Scheufele, D. (2014). Science communication as political communication. Pnas.org. https://www.pnas.org/content/pnas/111/Supplement_4/13585.full.pdf. The best climate strike signs from around the globe – in pictures. The Guardian. (2021). https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/gallery/2019/sep/20/the-best-climate-strike-signs-from-around-the-globe-in-pictures . Image reference - https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1075547019900290

< Back to Issue 4 The Power of Light by Serenie Tsai 1 July 2023 Edited by Yasmin Potts and Tanya Kovacevic Illustrated by Pia Barraza Light is often a symbol of greatness, and rightly so, with its ability to be both visible and invisible. It exists in the form of wavelengths, which we view as a multitude of colours. However, the powers of light extend beyond that: light has the potential to manipulate the way we see things, resulting in mesmerising and sometimes mind-boggling illusions. Colour is nothing without light Light is a form of electromagnetic radiation that lies on a spectrum. Due to our limited ability to see these electromagnetic waves, we are only able to see what is characterised as visible light [1]. Colours exist as different wavelengths in a rainbow-coloured order, with red being the longest wavelength and violet being the shortest wavelength, and these colours are detected by cone-shaped cells in our eyes [2]. There are two types of common light rays outside of our visible light range, ultraviolet and infrared light, positioning animals who can detect these to have superior vision [3]. Moreover, as colours and lights exist in the form of wavelengths, temperature can affect what is seen. For example, hot objects radiate short wavelengths, changing the colour we see, such as a hot flame having a range of red to blue colours, because of the way heat radiates from it [1]. Role of light in the mirage There is an age-old question: what would you do with the power to be invisible for a day? Well, the ability to do this is not that far into the future, with many scientists developing methods to make this a reality. Magicians use a common trick of placing mirrors strategically for a disappearing act. The use of mirrors reflects light away from the object so all we see is empty space because our eyes are programmed to view light as a straight line, so we struggle to process it any other way [4]. So far, this has worked successfully to disappear objects on a small scale. However, scientists are finding ways to amplify this technique to disguise larger items or even a person. A recent viral TikTok video is baffling people as to how a mirror can reflect an object hidden behind a piece of paper. Let’s unpack the science behind this trick. When light rays hit an object, photons of light are reflected off it in all directions, and some of these rays will hit the mirror. So, when you look at the object at a certain angle, you can also see it being reflected into the mirror, despite having a boundary in-between [5]. Similarly, this sort of illusion can be seen in nature itself. There is an optical phenomenon in the desert, which produces a mirage image on the ground. Because heat affects wavelengths of light, a warm surface on the ground can bend the rays of light from the sun upward, creating what is known as an inferior image. For example, this could make it seem like there is water on the ground, when in fact it is a reflection of the sky because an image of a distant object can be seen below the actual position of the object. Likewise, if there was cool air underneath, it would create a superior image [6]. This is all due to a temperature gradient created between the ground and the atmosphere above it [7]. Invisibility in the movies Violet from The Incredibles and the Fantastic Four heroine, the Invisible Woman, can both become invisible at their own will. While these examples are only in the movies, there is some truth here. Light can be manipulated to create an illusion, although it is unlikely to appear as realistic as an invisibility cloak. A more theoretically possible form of light manipulation would be the advanced technology portrayed in movies such as Marvel and Harry Potter. It features hovercrafts and a flying car, respectively, that possess the ability to camouflage themselves against their background. This is done through reflective plates, which become a mirror to match the surrounding objects and reflect light away to conceal the object. Another example of a cinematic light-based mirage is in the movie Now You See Me, which includes a series of magic tricks. In one scene, a character is shown to stop rain mid-air and control its movement with his hands. Sorry to ruin the magical illusion, but this one is merely a simple trick of strobe lights flashing repeatedly at the right frequency which makes it seem like the rain is stopped in mid-air. It also requires some movie magic and a large-scale rain machine to control the droplets [8]. There has been so much progress on movie-making to make creative imaginations a reality. For example, there is a new focus on transformation optics, the application of metamaterials to manipulate electromagnetic radiation. Metamaterials are designed with unique patterns to interact with light and other energy forms artificially. For example, Pyrex glass and oil have the same refractive index, so if you put these items together, the refraction of light against these objects can make it disappear out of view [9]. This is an easy trick you can try at home. Overall, light has a multitude of abilities that are still untapped. However, there is hope in society's ability to take advantage of technology and discover more uses for light, and its ability to evade the human eye. We could soon be having magic shows worthy of contending with even the most bizarre movies. References Visible Light | Science Mission Directorate [Internet]. science.nasa.gov . Available from: https://science.nasa.gov/ems/09_visiblelight#:~:text=WAVELENGTHS%20OF%20VISIBLE%20LIGHT Fara P. Newton shows the light: a commentary on Newton (1672) “A letter ... containing his new theory about light and colours...” Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society A: Mathematical, Physical and Engineering Sciences. 2015 Mar 6;373(2039):20140213–3. Animals See a World That’s Completely Invisible to Our Eyes [Internet]. All About Vision. [cited 2023 Jun 26]. Available from: https://www.allaboutvision.com/eye-care/pets-animals/how-animals-see/ David R. Smith Group [Internet]. people.ee.duke.edu . Available from: http://people.ee.duke.edu/~drsmith/transformation-optics/cloaking.htm Nicholson D. How does the mirror know what’s behind the paper? Explained! [Internet]. Danny Nic’s Science Fix. 2023 [cited 2023 Jun 26]. Available from: https://www.sciencefix.co.uk/2023/04/how-does-the-mirror-know-whats-behind-the-paper-explained/ Richey L, Stewart B, Peatross J. Creating and Analyzing a Mirage. The Physics Teacher. 2006 Oct;44(7):460–4. Li H, Wang R, Zhan H. The mechanism of formation of desert mirages. Physica Scripta. 2020 Feb 11;95(4):045501. Now You See Me 2 [Internet]. Framestore. 2016 [cited 2023 Jun 26]. Available from: https://www.framestore.com/work/now-you-see-me-2?language=en Puiu T. Human-sized invisibility cloak makes use of magic trick to hide large objects [Internet]. ZME Science. 2013 [cited 2023 Jun 26]. Available from: https://www.zmescience.com/science/physics/human-sized-cloak-hide-large-objects-543563/ Previous article Next article back to MIRAGE

< 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 8 In Your Dreams: Unpacking the Stories of Your Slumber by Ciara Dahl 3 June 2025 Edited by Ingrid Sefton Illustrated by Saraf Ishmam One minute you're flying through the sky, the next, you're naked in a room full of people. Except now, your teeth have started falling out? These surreal, and often illogical, experiences are what make dreams such a mystery. From ancient spiritual interpretations to modern neuroscience, people have long wondered not just what dreams mean , but why we have them at all. Are they cryptic messages from the unconscious? Perhaps a side effect of memory processing? Or maybe they are simply the brain’s way of entertaining itself while we sleep. Attempting to answer these questions is no easy feat. Despite being a universal human experience, dreams are inherently personal. Given no one but ourselves experiences our dreams, how can the fragmented recollections we have upon waking be objectively studied? Dream research was once steeped in spirituality and mysticism, often seen as divine messages from gods or whispered guidance from ancestors (1). Even Aristotle offered his own theory, suggesting dreams were the byproduct of internal bodily movements during sleep (1). It wasn’t until the early 20th century that dreams began to be studied through a psychological lens, most notably by Sigmund Freud, who proposed that dreams contained deeply personal and symbolic insights into the unconscious mind (2). Modern research, however, is beginning to uncover the connection between our dreams and complex cognitive processes such as memory consolidation. Techniques employed by oneirologists — that’s the fancy word for scientists specialising in the scientific study of dreams — includes fMRI, PET scans and EEG. Such methods are used to study brain activity during sleep and dreaming, particularly during REM and non-REM sleep (3). Using these technologies in tandem with qualitative descriptions gathered from individuals’ dream reports allows us to unpack the content and function of our dreams, whilst also considering questions such as why we seem to forget most of our dreams. What dreams are made of: influences on the content of our dreams There’s a growing body of evidence to suggest that our dream content is influenced by the consolidation of our memories as we sleep. Sleep provides an ideal neurological state for us to organise our recent memories into more long term memories (4). The reactivation and subsequent consolidation of memories in the sleeping brain appears to contribute to the content of dreams we recall upon awakening. In one study examining this phenomena, participants played extensive amounts of Tetris prior to sleeping. In the subsequent dream report collection, over 60% of participants cited seeing Tetris images in their dreams (5). This illustrates how the boundaries between waking and dreaming cognition are more porous than they appear, with dream content itself serving as a window into the neural mechanisms of memory consolidation. Not all dreaming can be directly tied to our most recent memories, but all dreams are built upon our prior experiences. For example, the appearance of recognisable friends or foes in our dreams in turn relies on our ability to recall their features and mannerisms (6). The bizarre patchwork of familiar situations we encounter in our dreams is also likely a reflection of the adaptive process of memory consolidation, as fragments of our memories are integrated during sleep. The Night Shift — what is the purpose of dreams We may be inching closer to understanding what influences the content of our dreams, but why do we dream in the first place? The Threat Simulation Theory (TST) argues that dreams act as an ancient biological defence mechanism, allowing us to simulate threatening events we may encounter in our waking life (7). TST suggests that on an evolutionary scale, being able to simulate threatening events in our sleep allows us to efficiently perceive and avoid threats whilst awake, leading to greater survival and reproductive success. It is a bit hard to imagine, however, that dreaming about being naked in public is going to be the key to our survival. This is why some scientists suggest that dreams are simply the brain’s attempt to make sense of random neural activity during REM sleep. This Activation-Synthesis Theory proposes that rather than rehearsing for real-life threats, our brains may just be firing off chaotic signals which it then tries to weave into bizarre and often disjointed stories (8). Whether dreams serve as a survival tool or are simply the byproduct of random brain activity, they offer a window into the complex workings of the sleeping mind. Vanishing Visions and the Concept of Dream Amnesia Have you ever woken up from such an absurd dream it seems impossible to forget, only to have forgotten the details by the end of breakfast? That’s what the experts call “dream amnesia”. It’s estimated that the average person dreams four to six times per night, yet you’d be lucky to remember even one of them by morning (6). At the molecular level, noradrenaline — a neurotransmitter associated with memory consolidation — is at its lowest concentrations while we sleep (9). This depletion could be a key factor contributing to dream amnesia, preventing the transfer of our dream experiences from short-term memory to long-term memory. Different sleep stages may also influence dream recall (6). It has been suggested that waking up during or just after REM sleep leads to more vivid dreams. In contrast, dream activity is low during non-REM sleep and hence, waking up during this sleep phase may also contribute to our poor dream recall. Although it can be disappointing to forget these wild dream experiences, dream amnesia may also serve an adaptive purpose. The “clean slate” hypothesis argues that forgetting dreams allows us to wake with a clear mind, free of the potentially disturbing content of our dreams (10). Alternatively, by maintaining a clear distinction between our dreaming and waking experiences, we are protected from confusing our dreams with reality, preventing anxiety that may otherwise ensue (11). Perhaps this forgetfulness may not be a flaw in our memory but a feature of it, helping us to preserve our mental clarity and emotional balance as we transition from the surreal world of our dreams to the demands of our waking life. In conclusion We may never fully unlock the secrets of our nightly adventures, but one thing is clear: dreams are a fascinating blend of memory, biology, and mystery. Whether they're ancient survival simulations, emotional clean-ups, or just the brain’s quirky way of entertaining itself while the lights are off, dreams remind us how wonderfully weird and complex the human mind truly is. Next time you find yourself tap dancing with Beyoncé or riding a roller coaster made of spaghetti, just enjoy the ride. Your brain is simply doing what it does best — keeping things entertaining, even in your sleep. References Palagini L, Rosenlicht N. Sleep, dreaming, and mental health: A review of historical and neurobiological perspectives. Sleep Medicine Reviews. 2011 Jun;15(3):179–86. Freud S. The Interpretation of Dreams [Internet]. 1900. Available from: https://psychclassics.yorku.ca/Freud/Dreams/dreams.pdf Ruby PM. Experimental Research on Dreaming: State of the Art and Neuropsychoanalytic Perspectives. Frontiers in Psychology [Internet]. 2011 Nov 18;2(286). Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3220269/#B107 Wamsley EJ. Dreaming and offline memory consolidation. Current Neurology and Neuroscience Reports [Internet]. 2014 Jan 30;14(3). Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4704085/ Stickgold R. Replaying the Game: Hypnagogic Images in Normals and Amnesics. Science. 2000 Oct 13;290(5490):350–3. Nir Y, Tononi G. Dreaming and the brain: from phenomenology to neurophysiology. Trends in Cognitive Sciences [Internet]. 2010 Jan 14;14(2):88–100. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2814941/ Revonsuo A. The reinterpretation of dreams: An evolutionary hypothesis of the function of dreaming. Behavioral and Brain Sciences [Internet]. 2000 Dec;23(6):877–901. Available from: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/11515147/ Hobson JA, McCarley RW. The brain as a dream state generator: an activation-synthesis hypothesis of the dream process. The American journal of psychiatry [Internet]. 1977 [cited 2019 Nov 14];134(12):1335–48. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21570 Mitchell HA, Weinshenker D. Good night and good luck: Norepinephrine in sleep pharmacology. Biochemical Pharmacology. 2010 Mar;79(6):801–9. Eugene AR, Masiak J. The Neuroprotective Aspects of Sleep. MEDtube science [Internet]. 2015 Mar;3(1):35. Available from: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4651462/ Zhao J, Schoch SF, Valli K, Dresler M. Dream function and dream amnesia: dissolution of an apparent paradox. Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews. 2024 Nov 20;167. Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< 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 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

< Back to Issue 9 Human-Cetacean Relations by Andrew Irvin 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Edited by Kara Miwa-Dale Creative, fascinating and full of interesting little tidbits, "Human-Cetacean Relations" would be best viewed as a PDF to retain its formatting, footnotes and references - check it out here! Andrew's article here A copy without footnotes and references is available on this page. – Tonga, 2049 – The Doctorate Isles When asked which nations take their PhD. scholarship most seriously, few people would venture a guess that Tonga had been closely keeping tabs on its academic attainment for decades. One of those Tongans was Tofa’s mom, who unflinchingly raised the reality of her eldest child’s enrolment gap nearly every time they had a conversation. Having met the eclectic and charming Rafael Bauer at the start of an undergraduate career, Lesieli didn’t let her relationship interrupt her first love – studying, which led to a steady, unbroken path through postdoctoral fellowships – eventually resulting in a tenured position in Medical Anthropology. Both in stature and demeanour, Tofa’s mother was a force to behold. Tofa’s dad, Rafael, was an American of much more indeterminate qualities; an electrical technician alongside his wife at University of California, Berkeley, he was a lifelong gearhead who never quite gave up the rock club sound tech roots of his youth. Rafael was a uniquely West Coast mix of pre-United States Californian, Bay area railroad-era immigrant Chinese, and late 20 th century Silicon Valley surf nerd, who despite his own parents’ cultural pedigree had always felt as though he were moving between worlds, even when he couldn’t manage to be any more deeply at home. This was a sentiment Tofa had always shared, but despite a temperamental affinity with their father, they found themselves growing into the spitting image of their mother. So as Tofa stared at the holo-tablet, they were confronted by a miniature version of themselves, twenty-five years on, in an alternate, hypothetical world where Tofa may have embraced a life of both femininity and pedantry. Tofa braced themselves, eyes pre-emptively glazing over slightly, as their mother laid in, yet again… “Why won’t you just pick a lane and stay the course, you know? See something through to the end?” On their periodic video calls, Dr. Lokotui – having kept her maiden name for the sake of her publication record – always ended up asking some form of the same question. It never failed to trigger Tofa’s ire. “Med school is literally the only thing I’ve walked away from, and that’s because I didn’t even start ,” they reminded their mother in persistent exasperation. “I have finished four albums, and for each and every one, I have toured for at least a year, always to the end.” In that process, Tofa noted, they had managed to build enough of a persona to dispense with the necessary attachment of a surname entirely, successfully avoiding the uncomfortable explanation of preferential nomenclature between their parents. Tofa knew their mother reserved a uniquely complicated form of resentment for her eldest child, and they spent concerted effort trying not to actively exacerbate this reaction, which they seemed to elicit simply by being themselves. Their younger brother, Tanginoa, had carved a much cleaner path to adoration in their mother’s books; playing rugby through college on the way to a sports medicine residency. The cumulative anxiety of navigating the conversation now had Tofa pacing with a purpose, weightily padding the deck of their beachside three-bedroom bungalow, overlooking Monterey Bay. Irate, they snidely remarked, “…and I don’t need to pick a lane when I go swimming. I’ve got the whole ocean to splash around in, Doctor Mom.” “ Si'i lile, Tofa…” Lesieli sighed in a combination of consternation and resignation, years beyond rising to active irritation at Tofa’s sarcastically applied epithet of respect. Tofa, in turn, was endlessly frustrated by the fundamentally uptight approach toward life their mother consistently decided to apply. “I’ve got to get back to grading, but here – talk to your father…” she said, unceremoniously passing the holo-tablet over to Tofa’s dad, Rafael. Growing up, Tofa often wondered how the most easy-going guy in California had ended up with—possibly—the most tenacious woman ever to make her way out of Tonga. He had drolly explained one night when Tofa was headlining one of the 90 th anniversary shows at the Fillmore Auditorium, “You know, I’ve never had to make a decision I didn’t feel was worth the trouble of thinking about.” He had admitted this while they were tucked away in the green room, leaning forward from the overstuffed, formerly vibrant yellow couch, tour-stained and wine-mottled. Fidgeting quietly against the Piñatex upholstery, he paused to sip a Pacifico loaded with lime before he’d continued, “Your mother isn’t wrong often…so I let her make the waves and just ride them all the way to shore.” He pointed the mouth of his beer bottle solemnly, slowly, in Tofa’s direction. Despite the flurry of activity and noise emanating from all directions, on-stage and off, as the festival wore on, Rafael managed to manufacture a moment of connection, encapsulated in this glimpse into his marriage to Tofa’s mother, “Don’t tell her that – if she ever realizes how easy all her empowerment has made things, she’ll start giving me extra homework.” Tofa had laughed uproariously at hearing this then, five years back. There wasn’t a problem Dr. Lokotui didn’t think could be solved with more studying. Now, seeing their dad again, Tofa suddenly felt a smile stretching across their face. “Hey, pops! What’s new?” “Oh, steady as she goes over here, Tof’. Looks like good weather down your way. It’s been a gnarly winter - how’s the surf been down the coast?” Rafael asked, peering around the miniature holo-view on the tablet, trying to get a glimpse of the sea. Tofa realigned themselves to show a view of the roaring, rolling January waves. “Heavy hitters – I haven’t gone out since Sunday when the swells at Asilomar were more my size. I tried out the new suit, though, and I think the CetaceaSkin team is on to something with these new fibre layers. I could’ve stayed in the water all day if I hadn’t been getting thrashed. Can’t spend too much time floating around – tryna get busy sorting out samples for the new single,” Tofa explained, happy to have a receptive audience with shared interests in their father. “I don’t know about those drysuits – half the fun of spending time in the ocean is getting wet! But tell me more about this song. Is there anything I can hear yet?” their father asked. “Which species are you putting up front in the mix on this one?" “I haven’t broken down all the logs yet, but based upon what I spotted, I’ve got some new clips from the Manuma'a, Lafu, Hengehenga, and I finally got a good take of the Malau to include,” Tofa rattled off the local birds they’d captured on record. The Malau was a point of pride, as they hadn’t seen one since they were twelve, and despite improved conservation efforts, it remained a vulnerable species. Since having the opportunity to go on vacation throughout the entirety of their childhood was relegated to the few visits when their mother hauled Tofa along with their little brother back to Nuku’alofa and out to ‘Eua to see their extended family, Tofa found these days of calm gave them the opportunity to both listen both closely and broadly. As they learned how their family extended across the islands, Tofa also learned every layer of life that flitted through the ocean air. Summer break in the United States was always the thick of Tongan “winter,” so apart from the few weeks of term break when their cousins were free to roam with them, they spent a lot of time along the shore, watching –hearing–seabirds. From the second visit onward, once they were old enough to handle their own recording device, that meant they had an opportunity to put everything on-file for later listening and editing. Unlike many bird spotters, they were less interested in snapping photos, instead tuning in tightly on the sounds each species would make as they walked along the sand. It was always stunning to them how differently the same ocean could strike an impression on a person, all because of what was happening on land. They became obsessed with sensorial experience of the intertidal zone, discovering how sound sped up beneath the waves. It was here they first heard the song beneath the sea. Wading out, head dipping beneath the waves, the humpbacks hailed the young musician. All Tofa wanted was to get closer, and better know the source of that sound. “How is that underwater rig you’ve been working on coming along?” Tofa’s father asked, bringing their reflections upon the deep back to the present. “So far, so good. Tweaking the input parameters to ensure it can handle the decibel thresholds, but the octave dropper on the output is working just fine. It should be ready for testing soon. We’ve got until the end of the season for sea trials before the holo-band. I think we’ll finally be able to provide some level of justice in truly hearing what they’ve been singing to us all these years,” Tofa explained, partially in an effort to convince themselves of the value in their long-running effort toward coordinated antiphony, lining out parts for their friends of the deep to commune upon. Rafael smiled proudly, with a shake of his head, “You’ve definitely got your mother’s intellect, Tofa.” “I don’t see why they can’t make a dissertation out of it!” Dr. Lokotui called the other room, still clearly keeping an ear tuned in to Tofa’s conversation. Diving Decibels Deep Six Months later The booming enormity of the waves of pressure across the ocean as the Earth birthed another island into the waters of Tonga were disorienting to every sense. Feeling reality shudder and shift around you, realizing the atmosphere, the sea – the planet itself can burble and burp, and rattle humans to their core or wipe them from the map with only a slight shift of its crust – it instills a sense of geological humility in a person. Perhaps this was the reason Tofa had been so vociferously opposed to the various seismic charges and sonar tests perpetrated by the navies of Pacific Rim nations over the course of human history. They knew how waves in every form could be monumentally catastrophic upon unsuspecting populations. More than most of the world, Tonga had cultivated an affinity for marine mammals, with non-trivial portion of the tourism economy tied to the seasonal migration of humpback whales, and increasingly close attention to dolphins residing within the expanded marine protected areas of the country. This interest in sound had honed itself from a precocious curiosity into a unilaterally focused passion over the course of their childhood, and now Tofa finally had a means of sharing those sentiments with the perennial subjects of their attention. Their years of devouring all the emerging research, when accompanied with a dedicated interest in music theory – and unfettered access to a wide range of remaining paywalled journals through good ol’ Dr. Mom’s home office accounts – left Tofa uniquely positioned to explore the coastal waters of ‘Eua, experienced through a filter of their own design. Now, as a child of Tonga who had endeavoured understand their ancestral home as a shared space, Tofa had a platform to offer the world an invitation to a symphony performed by an otherwise inscrutable chorus. Tofa had constructed a seat along the Humpback Highway, not on the front row, but in the orchestra pit, itself. With the Strat-Stat coverage providing a relay point overhead to feed the signal out, it was Tofa’s turn to benefit from performing behind a paywall. Project Ceti was happy to hear over forty thousand people had pledged support for this holo-band broadcast, and the audience continued to swell online now that word was out Tofa was finally underwater. It had taken over six months from the time Tofa had commissioned the design to get all the pieces in place for their new drysuit, but it was working better than they’d expected. While the tech for long-duration SCUBA operations had never been employed in this manner to-date, and with a comms-enabled IDM, Tofa was most excited about the two-way Soundfish system they’d been able to pull together with the help of a few submarine engineering colleagues and audio technician friends. Taken independently, any element of the Soundfish design might not seem new or innovative, but when daisy-chained in the manner Tofa intended, they now held the means of embedding themselves – or any operator – within the social life of a pod on its regular migrations. With the prototype school of Soundfish numbering eight in total, Tofa had prepared to deliver an expansive soundscape rendered remotely in immersive surround – piped through speakers the world over – to give their audience a glimpse into the role they had established amongst the whales. This culmination of years of applied research into whale behaviour and increasingly documented language structure led them back to Tonga, where Tofa now floated, suspended ten meters below the surface of the ocean off the coast of ‘Eua. The soft, deep wail through their headphones had presaged the arrival of Bomp, the Humpback whale they’d become acquainted with over successive years in the water. Moments later, the call of Bomp’s companion, Wahaloo, followed, and Tofa was overjoyed. The audio was coming through as clear as they could have hoped. The interface had yet to be fully tested, as the polyphonic drop unit technically worked, but whether it carried rhetorical value to its cetacean recipients was yet to be determined. There was every reason to wonder if the Soundfish could keep up with the pods they were designed to accompany after this ceremonial introduction. The saildrone, glider, and satellite monitoring all had the benefit of being able to keep pace with the whales, but none were able to embed themselves amongst the pod communities. Tofa hoped the Soundfish would provide the appropriate avatar for human immersion in the society of their giant friends. As the sound began to swell in their headphones, Tofa beamed in response; there were three other whales out there, and from the higher frequency joining the others, at least one calf among them. Tofa had been studying the records collected each year, and had steadily incorporated each season’s shifting songs into their repertoire. The culmination of their whole endeavour was now at-hand – Tofa turned their mic off stand-by, running hot, and setting a two second delay sequence on each Soundfish channel before sending out the same signal. With a controlled croon, Tofa began softly singing their greeting, echoed by the Soundfish. The gain was markedly lower on channel five, but otherwise, all systems were operational. Tofa made a brief adjustment to the levels, pulse racing with excitement – breath control momentarily forgotten – bad praxis in the scuba days of old. In the new suit, there was far less hazard of hyperventilation. Most critically, two seconds later, Bomp replied, and Tofa’s breath caught in their chest. They understood, Hello, again , – greetings identified through coda indicating repetition and recognition, as inferred through recent prevailing research and their field notes. Working with a unique coda they had isolated to ‘Eua, Tofa’s breath caught, pulse pounding while their heart shuddered in their chest. It the first time Tofa heard the words of their floating friends, layered atop a long familiar feeling. With two more seconds, the rest of the pod joined in chorus, and Tofa’s in-mask heads-up display exploded with celebratory reactions from the multitudes around the world bearing witness on the holo-band. Well beyond the simplicity of playback contact calls, with the applied tech delivering octave shifts to match pitch, Tofa had forged a voice to bridge the gap between their land-bound life and their biggest friends in all the world. They felt tears welling up, and suddenly found themselves trying excruciatingly hard to compose their reaction, as they had no practical way to wipe their eyes. Drawing upon a life of musical theory and a ceaseless curiosity to understand the creatures all around, Tofa’s patient cooing and clicking slowly unveiled a story that took years to decipher, and the pod was finally engaged, their curiosity piqued by these oddly-shaped fish and their friendly human. The concert lasted hours. While Tofa played none of the hits for which they were best known, it proved to be the most important performance of their entire career. Decompressing from the experience after the pod wandered on, Tofa rocked slowly in a hammock, fielding questions on the exchange terminal from fans and press, as their folks called in over holo-view. “It was beautiful, Tof’. Every moment,” their father offered. But it was Dr. Lokotui, who clasped Raffael’s shoulder – nodding solemnly and silently behind his seated form – that truly gave Tofa pause. Looking over the Soundfish tracking map, they knew they had embarked on a world tour of an entirely different sort. Now that Tofa had a way to spend the rest of their days listening to, learning from, and calling back to the pod, their change of career plans came as a surprise to the general public, including derision from some of the more recalcitrant Anthropocentrists in the biological research community, still riddled with those who would deny the ontological vastness to be more deeply explored and brought within human comprehension as our species approaches the Tree of Life with greater humility. There was, however, one academic who Tofa was pleasantly surprised to find now fully supportive of their endeavours. Doctor Mom replied, her eyes alone smiling, with a glint of belated understanding and more than a hint of pride, “Sounds like a good research question for your dissertation, Tofa.” Pupuʻa Puʻu Rorqal Nova District, Kingdom of Tonga – 2449 CE Never had this many pods convened at one time – in earlier ages, most humans would have lost all sense of decorum, seeing so many whales assembled. Now, King Tupou XIV presided proudly, ministerial delegation, visiting dignitaries from Niue and scientific advisors floating, dry-suited, nearby, their drop resonators at the ready when called upon in the formalities. It was, in every way, a commemorative moment, but it was not the kind who first broke the silence, but it was the Grand Cantor briefly surfacing to lobtail before drawing level with the humans floating ten meters below – a gesture of vigor and vitality from the matriarch of the pods, now 78 years old – who drew forward through the water, lumbering silently toward the royal entourage to bring the proceedings to a start. The mount on which we gather to once again commemorate the first choral union, as echoed in the songs of the Podmothers, all passed down along through the Soundfishes’ song. The Grand Cantor paused a moment, rotating her flippers in opposition, slowly turning to behold the assembled members of the summit. Our gratitude is deep for the effort of each Pod sharing songs of the year another chorus passes. From across the seamount, sunlight was visible rippling across the caudal peduncles of those cetaceans gathered in attendance, the gathered masses of each pod lobtailing in response; a form of applause few humans had ever been graced with an opportunity to hear. Cousins of the deep, we know of those who move about the overtow – oh, humanity! – there is a greater freedom they seek among the guiding light above. Whales of various species sang out at this testament to reconciliation. The violence they have perpetrated across the deep from time immemorial may never be undone. But peace is the current of the time – for peace with each other we float now together. When walking on solid ground, the King was not inclined to bow to anyone. But now, whatever gesture of deference he could muster seemed in adequate. So instead, he spoke; the ease with which the Grand Cantor and the assembled pods heard his words was the product of three long centuries of language models built on broader understanding. He need not have sung at all, but King Tupou XIV has spent his years of study the way others may have applied themselves toward the piano, or learning French. Perhaps if he’d been Tahitian – instead, his booming timbre and tone required a much slighter drop than Tofa’s first forays into the songs of the sea. “As our ocean grows deeper, so does our bond. We are here to listen, to learn, and to leave our failings in the past. We offer all we have on land to share beneath the waves, and our peace finds inspiration in your own.” The King paused, overwhelmed by the scene. Calls of concurrence rang out through the water from whale and human alike. Flukes slapped the surface; it seemed the summit was off to an auspicious start. THE END Previous article Next article Entwined back to