Mark Webber, the formula one driver, once described Australia as a "nanny state" because Lewis Hamilton's car was impounded under Victorian "hoon laws".
He had certainly been out of the country too long if he'd forgotten that the larrikin who owns a hotted up Holden is basically an accident waiting to happen - & I, for one, would rather it simply didn't happen.
You can call that impinging on an individual's rights to be an idiot, or call it improving the likelihood of little old ladies crossing the street without being killed - it's a fine line. It's also a big distance if you move slowly.
Of course, sometimes these nanny state laws work too well. It's a sure thing that helmets save lives - bicycle & motorbike - but anyone stupid enough to ride without one should take up their complaint with Darwin. Children don't necessarily understand "survival of the fittest", but adults should be required to prove that they have a head as hard as the road before they are allowed to discard protection.
Seat-belts are the same - except that they don't even make your head sweat.
This is how we minimise risks to individuals - expert recommendations become mandated by law. It's a simple process supported by a large majority of the population, & railed against by anarchists whose contributions to society will be forgotten before even they are.
Of course, these are a relatively easy sell. There are no car manufacturers saying that we need cars so powerful that they break the sound barrier, so no-one advocates "relaxing" the hoon laws. We have manufacturers supporting safety initiatives, because keeping drivers alive is a good thing for their business - it keeps sales going & their target market returning.
What if we, as a society, started seeing the number of cars (or trucks) on the road as the ultimate danger that needs to be dealt with? I suspect that dealers wouldn't be so supportive.
In fact, they might concentrate advertising even more on the safety features of the vehicle - how you're safer being on the inside than the outside of a car, & could basically live inside one, parking outside your office or the school overnight.
How about if you remove the human factor, the risk, & have cars that almost drive themselves?
But right now, cars don't kill people - they can't because they're not autonomous.
We can't live without cars because they are seen as a tool that does our bidding.
It's our right to own & drive those cars.
Nobody wants to go back to the stone age when people were riding horses around & filling the streets with a stink that made it nearly impossible to breathe.
No-one wants that.
At some point, the nanny state - egged on by those who don't see driving as a right or even a privilege - will turn its attention to the statistics of road fatalities & find that "something" could be done.
A shifting focus within society - triggered by a few simple ethical dilemmas brought on by autonomous vehicles, for example, & backed by a new push by car manufacturers that separated out property damage from medical impact (where any accident is a good one where no-one gets hurt) - could make the nanny state move against something that could have been society-wise beneficial if developed over time & in the right way (for once).
Utopia would have autonomous vehicles on "rails" & out of sight (like magic). Society would give people the freedom to travel anywhere & see it all pass by (like an emperor in their carriage).
It's very hard to conceive of some compromise that will deliver both with equal usefulness.
"Market forces" won't. Government must. It won't be a popular decision either, so government won't.
Sometimes the "rights" of the individual - of the voter! - needs adjusting first.
Before changing the government as a knee-jerk reaction to their making a decision we don't like, we should learn how to change the government so that they make the decisions we don't like, regardless.
Everyone wants to breathe clean air. Nobody wants to drive an electric car.
Everyone wants to survive their next trip on the road. Nobody wants to obey all of the traffic rules.
Sometimes, a nanny state has to step in & say "No more lead in petrol! Slow down!"
Sometimes we have to accept that they're only doing it because we won't do it ourselves.
31 December 2018
29 July 2018
Not-So-Super Saturday
I've been found speechless with regards the drama & political fall-out surrounding the parliamentary dual-citizenship debacle that might finally be coming to a close after months of stuffing about.
I think it's all over now, so I am less likely to stick my foot in my mouth as I pass comment on the shambolic sham that we occasionally refer to as the bicameral system of government.
I am politically biased - I dislike most politicians.
The problem is not just the politicking as each side has denounced the other's members, pursued their opposition whilst sheltering their own, making excuses or accommodations whilst exposing their own hypocrisy.
It's that we allow it.
I realise that an ability to attack someone with a differently-coloured tie (or dress) is not the key attribute I look for in my local representative, but the major parties only offer those skills, so we've become quite used to the circus that happens in the Canberra Big-Top.
However, it now appears that the Federal Court has been secretly wishing for its moment in the spotlight all these years.
Let's ignore the way in which government members' by-elections were rushed in, whilst opposition members' representatives were left dangling without the support of their constituents.
That's just the kind of thing one expects from party politics.
I want to get to the heart of the matter - the blanket ruling that anyone who may conceivably have been or become a dual citizen should have known & therefore should have known better than to go into politics in the first place.
Yes, there were quite a few who simply didn't know the law (& whose party had forgotten to remind them), but there were several who were genuinely surprised (& not delighted) to discover that they had acquired dual citizenship during their lives without having even gotten a hand-shake from the mayor.
In the worst of cases, some people had become citizens of countries that they had had no affiliation with, hadn't needed to visit, & were honestly mystified at how it was possible that such things could occur.
The most bizarre case, in my mind, was that of John Alexander.
Someone born here, whose father just happened to have been born in England & was therefore a British Subject resident in Australia before the concept of an Australian citizen even existed, found himself to have inherited British Citizenship, even having been born after the concept of Australian citizenship became possible.
In fact, his father could have sat in parliament without an eyebrow ever rising (as was fashionable before botox).
It could have been worse - John could have been born two years earlier as a British Subject at birth (not inheritance) - & still had no idea that he "gained" Australian citizenship.
My own father, born before the act, automatically became an Australian Citizen (only), & his English mother (& her father) unwittingly became a dual citizen ... but let's not get into gender politics here as well.
Oh let's ... my father therefore has cousins who have no idea that they are the only living dual-citizens in the family because their father (born here) inherited the dual-citizenship right & passed it on to his children.
I think I'm right here - it gets confusing - a man born in Australia to an English father can have British children, but his sister, born in England, has Australian children.
I am not concerned that people were taken by surprise at their new-found citizenship, it's more that the Fed Court has decided to interpret the law by the letter rather than the intent.
At the time of writing, the constitution was intended to preclude those whose allegiance was not to the British Empire (or the King/Queen) from sitting in parliament.
Foreign was a much broader concept in those days - & was never truly tested.
When the act of Australian Citizenship finally came about, some fifty years later, nobody was in the mood to shake the tree & see which members fell out of parliament - as I'm sure quite a few (if not most) would have.
It's a matter of history that most of our PMs had recent British ancestry.
If we start to "question" members who sat illegally & without their knowledge today, & the decisions of ministers who have since been designated illegally holding office, then we should go back in time to dismiss all of the decisions of all of the parliaments where the majority was held only with the help of those who were technically dual citizens, & any minister's actions where their allegiance could be brought into question.
Crazy talk.
To take this to the absurd, an act of parliament that effectively makes the passing of that act itself impossible through the ineligibility of the members in the majority to actually be present, never existed.
This means that the act of Australian Citizenship itself (1949), having just disappeared, could not have caused the chaos that this Super Saturday has become - with no appreciable change to the parliament - & we'll all accept that the whole thing is just politics.
I think it's all over now, so I am less likely to stick my foot in my mouth as I pass comment on the shambolic sham that we occasionally refer to as the bicameral system of government.
I am politically biased - I dislike most politicians.
The problem is not just the politicking as each side has denounced the other's members, pursued their opposition whilst sheltering their own, making excuses or accommodations whilst exposing their own hypocrisy.
It's that we allow it.
I realise that an ability to attack someone with a differently-coloured tie (or dress) is not the key attribute I look for in my local representative, but the major parties only offer those skills, so we've become quite used to the circus that happens in the Canberra Big-Top.
However, it now appears that the Federal Court has been secretly wishing for its moment in the spotlight all these years.
Let's ignore the way in which government members' by-elections were rushed in, whilst opposition members' representatives were left dangling without the support of their constituents.
That's just the kind of thing one expects from party politics.
I want to get to the heart of the matter - the blanket ruling that anyone who may conceivably have been or become a dual citizen should have known & therefore should have known better than to go into politics in the first place.
Yes, there were quite a few who simply didn't know the law (& whose party had forgotten to remind them), but there were several who were genuinely surprised (& not delighted) to discover that they had acquired dual citizenship during their lives without having even gotten a hand-shake from the mayor.
In the worst of cases, some people had become citizens of countries that they had had no affiliation with, hadn't needed to visit, & were honestly mystified at how it was possible that such things could occur.
The most bizarre case, in my mind, was that of John Alexander.
Someone born here, whose father just happened to have been born in England & was therefore a British Subject resident in Australia before the concept of an Australian citizen even existed, found himself to have inherited British Citizenship, even having been born after the concept of Australian citizenship became possible.
In fact, his father could have sat in parliament without an eyebrow ever rising (as was fashionable before botox).
It could have been worse - John could have been born two years earlier as a British Subject at birth (not inheritance) - & still had no idea that he "gained" Australian citizenship.
My own father, born before the act, automatically became an Australian Citizen (only), & his English mother (& her father) unwittingly became a dual citizen ... but let's not get into gender politics here as well.
Oh let's ... my father therefore has cousins who have no idea that they are the only living dual-citizens in the family because their father (born here) inherited the dual-citizenship right & passed it on to his children.
I think I'm right here - it gets confusing - a man born in Australia to an English father can have British children, but his sister, born in England, has Australian children.
I am not concerned that people were taken by surprise at their new-found citizenship, it's more that the Fed Court has decided to interpret the law by the letter rather than the intent.
At the time of writing, the constitution was intended to preclude those whose allegiance was not to the British Empire (or the King/Queen) from sitting in parliament.
Foreign was a much broader concept in those days - & was never truly tested.
When the act of Australian Citizenship finally came about, some fifty years later, nobody was in the mood to shake the tree & see which members fell out of parliament - as I'm sure quite a few (if not most) would have.
It's a matter of history that most of our PMs had recent British ancestry.
If we start to "question" members who sat illegally & without their knowledge today, & the decisions of ministers who have since been designated illegally holding office, then we should go back in time to dismiss all of the decisions of all of the parliaments where the majority was held only with the help of those who were technically dual citizens, & any minister's actions where their allegiance could be brought into question.
Crazy talk.
To take this to the absurd, an act of parliament that effectively makes the passing of that act itself impossible through the ineligibility of the members in the majority to actually be present, never existed.
This means that the act of Australian Citizenship itself (1949), having just disappeared, could not have caused the chaos that this Super Saturday has become - with no appreciable change to the parliament - & we'll all accept that the whole thing is just politics.
28 June 2018
Shoes Your Illusion
It was nearly end-of-financial-year sales time, & I had a split in my sneakers. Normally, this would mean a quick trip to my favourite supplier, but they had temporarily disgraced themselves because this pair weren't very old when they came apart at the seams.
Under duress (that is, with Mrs Unwisdom), I was escorted into a well-known high-end sports-oriented, shoe-specialist shop claiming to have 50% off. You can probably tell from that sentence that the likelihood of me entering said shop would approximate zero without such an enticement - & even then, only when accompanied by an adult (Mrs Unwisdom).
I shall set the scene - it's a very ordinary, large, popular, outer suburban shopping centre on a Saturday morning. I'm wearing the fore-mentioned sneakers, plus a jacket that I've just discovered from my fatter days that I used to love (& Mrs Unwisdom hates), with the expectation that I will also purchase its replacement. As a side note, the last time I bought sneakers with the better half in tow (more likely vice versa), she made me change in the shop & asked them politely if they had a bin behind the counter.
Back to "Expensive Shoe Store" (because I don't want to use a brand name).
After picking through the shoes placed thoughtfully outside the shop, like a tramp looking for the least grotty-looking leavings behind a restaurant, I had come up with a likely candidate that did not look as though someone had already thrown up over it. You can guess from that statement that I wasn't looking for anything so lurid that it would scare small animals (even colour blind ones).
They just weren't right - they were priced above what my critical brain tells me a shoe made in a child-labour sweat shop in name-your-favourite-third-world-country should be, & they were certainly no more comfortable than my favourite brand (made in the same factory by the siblings). I was turning somewhat donkey (Mrs Unwisdom may have used a less kind equine reference), when helpful-shop-assistant burst upon the scene in her cleverly contrived sports-reference uniform & probably overly-spongy joggers designed specifically for wearing whilst selling overly-spongy joggers to overly-spongy joggers.
"FIND ANYTHING YOU LIKE?" she politely shouted at us, managing to maintain a rising inflection.
"Not really - have you got anything ... less colourful?"
"THERE ARE SOME MORE SHOES AT THE BACK ON SALE!" she burbled, still managing to emphasise "at the back" in the way that a drunk might try to slyly wink at the barmaid.
When I looked non-plussed, she continued her tirade.
"OR IF YOU TELL ME YOUR BUDGET, I CAN SEE IF WE'VE GOT SOMETHING ELSE!"
Ah. I see.
My intentionally understated dress-sense has finally been noticed by the eyes that seem to slip past me to categorise everyone who enters the joint as potential thief or customer.
I am assured that her IQ exceeded her shoe size, but I suspect that her realm of social acquaintance rarely got beyond the pub about 500 metres distant on a Friday night. My lips parted in anticipation of telling her that I was quite capable of buying footwear if only for my sense of taste.
Mrs Unwisdom hustled me out before I could formulate a sufficiently low-brow retort for the young "lady" to fully comprehend, but I got my way, partially. We did end up buying shoes at my favourite shop: not quite what I was looking for, but different enough that I can still enjoy that slightly shabby sense of coming apart at the seams.
Under duress (that is, with Mrs Unwisdom), I was escorted into a well-known high-end sports-oriented, shoe-specialist shop claiming to have 50% off. You can probably tell from that sentence that the likelihood of me entering said shop would approximate zero without such an enticement - & even then, only when accompanied by an adult (Mrs Unwisdom).
I shall set the scene - it's a very ordinary, large, popular, outer suburban shopping centre on a Saturday morning. I'm wearing the fore-mentioned sneakers, plus a jacket that I've just discovered from my fatter days that I used to love (& Mrs Unwisdom hates), with the expectation that I will also purchase its replacement. As a side note, the last time I bought sneakers with the better half in tow (more likely vice versa), she made me change in the shop & asked them politely if they had a bin behind the counter.
Back to "Expensive Shoe Store" (because I don't want to use a brand name).
After picking through the shoes placed thoughtfully outside the shop, like a tramp looking for the least grotty-looking leavings behind a restaurant, I had come up with a likely candidate that did not look as though someone had already thrown up over it. You can guess from that statement that I wasn't looking for anything so lurid that it would scare small animals (even colour blind ones).
They just weren't right - they were priced above what my critical brain tells me a shoe made in a child-labour sweat shop in name-your-favourite-third-world-country should be, & they were certainly no more comfortable than my favourite brand (made in the same factory by the siblings). I was turning somewhat donkey (Mrs Unwisdom may have used a less kind equine reference), when helpful-shop-assistant burst upon the scene in her cleverly contrived sports-reference uniform & probably overly-spongy joggers designed specifically for wearing whilst selling overly-spongy joggers to overly-spongy joggers.
"FIND ANYTHING YOU LIKE?" she politely shouted at us, managing to maintain a rising inflection.
"Not really - have you got anything ... less colourful?"
"THERE ARE SOME MORE SHOES AT THE BACK ON SALE!" she burbled, still managing to emphasise "at the back" in the way that a drunk might try to slyly wink at the barmaid.
When I looked non-plussed, she continued her tirade.
"OR IF YOU TELL ME YOUR BUDGET, I CAN SEE IF WE'VE GOT SOMETHING ELSE!"
Ah. I see.
My intentionally understated dress-sense has finally been noticed by the eyes that seem to slip past me to categorise everyone who enters the joint as potential thief or customer.
I am assured that her IQ exceeded her shoe size, but I suspect that her realm of social acquaintance rarely got beyond the pub about 500 metres distant on a Friday night. My lips parted in anticipation of telling her that I was quite capable of buying footwear if only for my sense of taste.
Mrs Unwisdom hustled me out before I could formulate a sufficiently low-brow retort for the young "lady" to fully comprehend, but I got my way, partially. We did end up buying shoes at my favourite shop: not quite what I was looking for, but different enough that I can still enjoy that slightly shabby sense of coming apart at the seams.
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