Böcker i In The National Interest-serien

In March 2020, schools and childcare centres across Australia were forced to close to control the spread of the recently arrived novel coronavirus (COVID-19). Families and carers suddenly had to adjust to long periods of home-schooling, disparities in the availability of technology, loss of social connections with friends and relatives, and an exhausting new balancing act of work, home and schooling commitments-- all in a confined environment. In the wake of the resulting emotional burnout, heightened by spontaneous lockdown measures and growing COVID-19 cases, we witnessed an exponential rise in youth anxiety, triggering a mental health crisis in children as young as those of kindergarten age. Three years later, what does the post-pandemic child look like? What does the future hold for the millions of young Australians whose formative years were so disrupted? And what help must we urgently provide to this generation of children who found themselves coping with a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic? In The Post-Pandemic Child, Kim Cornish takes us through the key challenges now faced by Australian children, including the return to in-person schooling and the ramifications of online teaching and missed years of social interaction. She also examines the short- and long-term consequences for this ' pandemic generation', and the priorities in enabling these children to regain what was lost during the early years of COVID-19.

Courts aren't just there to settle divorces, sentence law-breakers and resolve corporate disputes. A healthy legal system, one that ensures access, transparency and accountability, is fundamental to democracy. When the system works, the courts act as a check on government power, holding our politicians and bureaucrats to account. In Courting Power, Isabelle Reinecke, founder of Grata Fund, Australia's first strategic litigation funder and incubator, takes us through some of the public interest cases she has helped bring about-- from one launched by Torres Strait Islanders to establish the federal government's duty of care regarding climate change, to a High Court case on remote housing rights in the Northern Territory, and Doctors for Refugees' successful challenge to government gag laws. In a world of spin and puff, inattention and information overload, media deregulation and TikTok, evidence and accurate information have never been so important. The courts are perhaps the last remaining place where facts are primary and hyperbole is ignored. Courting Power is a timely reminder of how ordinary people can rely on them to keep the powers that be accountable.

Technology described as artificial intelligence is becoming more pervasive, with AI algorithms transforming science and industry, along with our everyday lives. They can rapidly analyse and classify all manner of data. They can generate passages of text and produce realistic images. They are used to design medicines, to autonomously drive cars. They are our tour guides through the vast collection of information on the web. They observe us to suggest products to purchase, movies to watch and music to hear. They keep a watchful eye on us through cameras at supermarket self-checkouts. And their scope of application is only widening-- increasingly, we are interacting with AI without knowing it. But what is AI really? Is it truly intelligent? Is it always a benignly useful modern-world companion? Not if we consider the increasing volume of AI-enabled criminal activity, or the ethical dilemmas posed by the use of AI-powered weaponry. Further, examples already exist showing that the careless use of AI can lead to the exacerbation of social inequalities. AI systems, no matter how complex their workings or impressive their abilities, are the product of deliberate human design-- not just the design of algorithms, but also strategies for sourcing and managing the massive quantities of data on which they operate. But it's not just the creators of AI who need to think about the impact of the technology. Given its ramifications, all of us need to start thinking about how we want to live with AI.

Gladys Berejiklian was one of Australia's most popular premiers. Forging a path for New South Wales through the difficult early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, she seemed unstoppable. But it all came crashing down. In one of the most staggering falls from grace in Australian political history, Berejiklian found herself embroiled in a major corruption inquiry that had enveloped the man with whom she was in a secret relationship. That same inquiry slowly expanded to focus on the conduct of Berejiklian herself. Journalist Paul Farrell takes us behind the scenes of the corruption investigation that brought down a NSW premier. He gives us a bird' s-eye account of how a case was built against her, and the relationship that ended her political reign. He also reveals how Berejiklian's popularity was shored up by powerful allies in media and political circles, and the tactics deployed by her office to silence critics. At the centre of all this is the national importance of trust, honesty and integrity, and how much Australians are willing to tolerate when it comes to the behaviour of their leaders.

Long-term population directions, in terms of both size and age composition, drive the destiny of all nations. While for decades we have worried about global overpopulation, it is far more likely that the period 1950-2050 will be an extraordinary population growth shock, culminating in severe population ageing and then decline. This shock will have four stages aligned with the stages of the life cycle of the baby boomers: childhood, adulthood, old age and death.Around ten years ago, the developed world as a whole entered the third stage of the population shock - old age. Over the next ten to twenty years, most of continental Europe, China, Russia and South Korea will join Japan as nations with sharply declining populations. The world and modern capitalism have never before been in such a situation.While Australia's population will continue to grow over the next forty years, we will age significantly. Economic growth will slow, government and household debt will rise, and inequality will accelerate. Against that background, how will government chart our population and economic future? --

"One in five Australian women has been the victim of a sexual assault. For these women, there is less than a 1 per cent chance that their rapist has been arrested, prosecuted and convicted of the crime. These are the bare numerical facts of system failure. We offer rape survivors a stark choice: go to the police, or remain silent. In recent times, the public pressure on survivors to report has increased, alongside a growing focus on two other options: civil action against the perpetrator, or going public. These evolving social responses are intended to offer an alternative to the tradition of silencing. However, each of these choices, for survivors, involves a further sacrifice of what they have already lost. The legal system's responses to rape were designed without survivors in mind, and they do not address, in any way, the questions that survivors ask or the needs they express. Simply put, on the systemic response to rape, we are having the wrong conversation."--

Over the past thirty years, the Internet has transformed virtually every area of human activity, social and economic. The bulk of these changes have been positive, allowing people to work, imagine and connect with each other in new ways. The boost to economic activity has been enormous. But along with the benefits have come new risks. Our children can learn and play on the internet, but they can also be bullied there, or unwittingly stumble across extreme pornography. For ordinary citizens, the Internet provides an unprecedented opportunity to comment and participate in public discourse; but the same digital platforms providing this opportunity can also be forums for the wide circulation of abusive, defamatory or grossly inaccurate material. And while the Internet has created vast new opportunities for businesses and consumers, it has disrupted many traditional forms of economic activity. The result is a rich set of policy challenges for governments.--from the publisher.

The exposés in early 2021 of sexism and sexual violence in Parliament House prompted women across the country (and some men) to take to stages, lecterns and social media to express their rage and demand action. However, while these events highlighted that violence against women is an ongoing issue in our community, in many ways the allegations and incidents should not shock us. They are part of women's daily lives. Violence against women has been called the 'shadow pandemic'; it is certainly an international epidemic. Since family violence was declared a national emergency here in 2015, little has been done nationally to change the tragic reality that one woman is killed by a current or former male partner every week. The lack of federal leadership and action can no longer be ignored, excused or explained away. Canberra's silence on violence against women has become deafening of late. The softly-softly response to allegations of abuse, harassment and sexual violence reflects a longstanding pattern of our political leaders not taking women's safety seriously. In Our National Shame, Kate Fitz-Gibbon reminds us that violence against women is not a private issue that needs bespoke, case-by-case solutions. It is a community-wide problem that, to be properly addressed, requires a dramatic shift in how we understand and respond to men's violence, and most importantly, the tackling of gender inequality in this country. Transformative national leadership must drive this. But do our political masters have either the will or the integrity to meet this challenge?