Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

There is no specific year or age I would choose to re-live, because every year has its achievements as well as its challenges. However, to answer the question above, let’s specify particular experiences from different ages and years that have remained with me as impactful and significant.

I would re-live being a founder of the junior high school debating team. From the age of about 11 or 12 until 15, I was a participant on the debating team every week. Being of introverted disposition, I had to overcome my fear of public speaking, and channel my energies into making a coherent argument in front of an audience.

When I say audience, that usually consisted of only ten or twenty people. Every week, we would debate other schools in a friendly competition. Either taking the affirmative or negative, I would help to construct a persuasive case for our side.

My voice broke over the course of the debating years, and the teachers noticed that I had matured from a nervous, gangly youth into a more experienced person. Those years of experience made me unafraid to speak in front of large crowds; in subsequent years, I have addressed thousands of people at demonstrations and political gatherings.

No, you do not have to possess any supernatural or magical powers to be an effective public speaker. No, you do not require the intellect of an Einstein or Hawking to get up and speak in front of an audience. Just know that everyone in the audience is just a person, and do not worry so much about what they may think.

Indeed, when I was 14, I got to added the entire school population, teaching faculty and visiting clergy in the main chapel next to our school. While the nerves were there, I stood up to the microphone and saw hundreds of faces, both adolescent and adult, looking at me.

Taking a deep breath, I began the first sentence. Just get that far, I thought. Then the next sentence. Before I knew it, to was speaking to the crowd. How did I know I was successful? The main guest of honour at this event, the new archbishop, (the special mass was held to welcome him), got up and made a joke after I had finished. The mood relaxed – and I kept that memory for inspiration.

The years at university were wonderful, involving the free-flowing exchange of ideas about politics, philosophy, psychology, history and economics. The humanities curriculum was difficult but rewarding. If I could re-live those years, I would compose a better transitional programme from high school to university.

The changeover from the largely carefree days of senior high school to university was a challenging transition. Apart from a guidebook from the universities and colleges admission organisation, we never received any guidance about transitioning from high school to higher education.

Students from immigrant families can find the transition to university particularly difficult, navigating two languages and cultural traditions. In recent years, tertiary education institutions have made a greater effort to provide a pathway for students from non-English speaking backgrounds (NESB) to integrate into university life.

The parents of NESB children, because of language and cultural barriers, feel a bit lost in trying to help their children transition to university. No, I am not suggesting that parents did not support me going to university – far from it. When I graduated, my late father was so happy, he was jumping out of his skin. I had never seen my normally quiet, mild-mannered father react that way – i thought he was going to do cartwheels. I was very glad that he was happy.

If I could re-live that transition experience, I would provide a structured pathway, or recommend a program, for high school students to make the difficult jump from school to university.

In a way, the impact of artificial intelligence (AI) in current times recapitulates the issues we confronted back in the 1980s and 90s when computerisation was implemented on a societal scale. The changeover from reliance on paper to widespread computerisation was, in a sense, good preparation for the current increasing ubiquity of AI. How does this new technology impact our way of thinking, our relationships, our social lives, our shopping habits?

Witnessing the rise of AI – or rather, having AI shoved down our throats – is making us re-live the original era of personal and office computer expansion. While I can see the benefits of using AI to perform the menial tasks, removing drudgery, I would question whether it is necessary for every single person to have AI on their mobile phone.

How we respond to AI, and the problems it raises, provides a feeling of deja vu – we are re-living all the questions we asked when the age of computerisation began. I hope that humanity has enough wisdom and learns from the experience to implement AI in a way that supports human connection, rather than enabling the tech giants to make us outsource our cognitive faculties to the algorithm.

What’s something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail.

There are many answers to the question above, but if I had to select at least one activity, I would choose one that is a purely personal experience, and one that involves serving others. Firstly, I would love to replicate the 1927 solo flight by Charles Lindberg across the Atlantic from New York to Paris. There is something unequivocal in flying solo, a feat of skill and endurance. The first transatlantic flight done by one individual was a milestone event in aviation history.

Using the same airplane that Lindbergh flew in – The Spirit of St Louis – it would be a remarkably difficult yet rewarding experience.

There had been multiple attempts by experienced aviators to cross the Atlantic solo. None of them succeeded, but each attempt only whetted the appetites of future pilots to achieve the grand objective of flying uninterrupted from one continent to another.

The Spirit of St Louis was a single engine mono propeller, a steel frame covered in canvas. The wings, spanning 46 feet, were made of wood covered in canvas. Thinking about the sophistication of current aviation technology, with our GPS, it is astounding to learn exactly how Lindbergh accomplished his heroic flight.

He was a stunt pilot to be sure, experienced in aerial navigation and acrobatics. This was the age of the daredevil pilot, the acrobatic stunt era of Waldo Pepper and the amazing death- defying aviator. World War One era pilots, while celebrated for their astonishing skills in the air, were gradually declining as commercial air flights were expanding.

Flying across the transatlantic solo was Lindbergh’s way of flying in the face of the inevitable (no pun intended). The stunt aviator had had his/her day, but Lindbergh wanted to demonstrate to the world that his era was not over. What would it be like to immerse oneself in a different era, using the technologies and techniques of that time?

Secondly, thinking about a goal or activity that would serve others, the follow scenario occurs to me. If I was guaranteed not to fail, then it occurs to me to go back in time and prevent a catastrophe or lethal event from happening. It is easy to find examples of time travel scenarios – if you could go back in time to prevent a crime or change th course of history, would you?

If I could, I would go back to July 1994, and sabotage the perpetrators of the worst terrorist bombing in the Americas (at least prior to Sept 11 2001) – the attack on the Argentine Israelite Mutual Association (AMIA in Spanish) in Buenos Aires.

That attack resulted in the deaths of 85 people, and the injury of 300. A suicide bomber, driving a car laden with explosives, carried out the attack. Ever since then, the Iranian regime has been repeatedly accused of being responsible for that atrocity, an allegation Tehran vehemently denies. The purported motive of the bomber was retaliation for Argentina allegedly reneging on nuclear agreements with the Iranians.

I am not from Argentina, and I am not Jewish. I have no personal stake in this matter, except as a human being that deplores violence against innocent people.

I am quite skeptical of the claims of Iranian responsibility for this attack. Why? The connections between the AMIA community centre bombing and the Iranian government are tenuous, if that. Argentina, under the prolonged era of military dictatorships, has a stubborn and persistent malaise of antisemitism. The Argentine generals, ever fearful of working class rebellion, blamed the Jewish people for the evils of Communism, and antisemitic publications were widely available in Argentina for decades.

From the earliest decades of the twentieth century, large numbers of Germans and Jews migrated to Argentina. A nativist, anti-immigrant reaction spawned a nationalistic fervour. In the 1930s, the doctrine of Nazism grew among Argentina’s German population.

In the 1970s the Argentine military junta, copying the tactics of their German teachers, circulated antisemitic conspiracy theories claiming that Jews, in collaboration with Communism and foreign Zionists, were plotting to establish a Jewish homeland in the Argentine region of Patagonia.

There is no shortage of Argentinian antisemitic suspects for the AMIA bombing. The administration of current Argentine president Javier Milei, a version of Trump in South America, routinely accuses Iran of culpability for 1994 AMIA bombing to align his government with the goals of Washington in Latin America.

Milei has recently taken to hallucinating Iranian troops in Bolivia, and Hezbollah militants in Chile, to ingratiate himself into the good graces of the Trump administration. These hallucinations have a definite purpose – by portraying Tehran as an aggressively expansionist state, Argentina bolsters Washington’s escalation of tensions with Iran.

Flying across the transatlantic helped to bring Europeans and Americans together, despite their geographical distance and cultural differences. By preventing a terrorist attack, we can de-escalate tensions, thus paving the way for a world where people’s lives matter, not the geopolitical interests of big powers.

Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

There are multiple instances of situations where I felt out of place. Rather than enumerating each one, it is better to describe the underlying reasons why the feeling of being out of place is so common in my life.

The major reason why I feel out of place is because I had a bicultural upbringing. What the hell does that mean? Being an Australian born child of Egyptian-Armenian parents (Armenians by ethnic background but Egyptian by birth) is not exactly a large demographic in Western Sydney – or in Anglophone Australia for that matter.

From my earliest experiences at school, being the only Armenian background student presented its own difficulties. For a start, having to explain to white Australians that there are Armenians from Egypt was an obstacle in itself. When the Anglo majority population know Egypt as the land of pharaohs, Tutankhamen, with Yul Brynner playing an ancient Egyptian and Charlton Heston parting the Red Sea in that movie, I found myself having to provide an impromptu history lesson.

For instance, Queen Cleopatra – made widely familiar to Anglophone people through the acting skill of Elizabeth Taylor, was from a Macedonian ruling dynasty. The pyramids of Giza were ancient history to her. In fact, the pyramids were further removed back in time than we are from Cleopatra’s time. So when Marc Antony and Cleopatra had their love affair, the pyramids were already tens of thousands of years old. And besides, I am Armenian, so having to explain Cleopatra is a distraction from my bicultural heritage.

Secondly, I quickly learned that my name is so incredibly complex, so enormously difficult and complicated for Anglophone Australians to understand and pronounce. Just stating my name was a cause of mockery and ridicule, especially at the pre-teens age. Screwing up their face, and grunting ‘Huh?’ at me when I stated my name was the first step in a long road to feeling out of place.

I have already written why it is important to pronounce foreign names correctly. It is not difficult, just try and you will see that foreign names are easy to pronounce.

Please do not misunderstand, I had a generally positive time at school. Hanging out with friends, playing sports, socialising – all that was important growing up. But the nagging feeling that I was out of place remained. No-one in my circle was truly like me.

Yes it is true that Australia is becoming more multicultural, with greater numbers of people tracing their origins to non-English speaking countries. However, multicultural policies – and the current much-hyped value of social cohesion – has not resulted in greater interethnic solidarity and understanding.

While school was undeniably a great time, that feeling of being out of place never really left me. Perhaps university would be different?

I have fond memories of all the social and educational experiences at university. A new world opened up, and new horizons were available. The formative interactions of university were invaluable. However, I had that nagging suspicion of feeling out of place. Not from any of the students or faculty – but from the curriculum.

Sydney University, following in the footsteps of its Anglo-British templates (Oxford, Cambridge), taught philosophy and sociology as part of a tradition of Western Civilisation. Ancient Greece and Rome were the cultural and philosophical foundations of the Western worldview. The Ancient Greeks provided the basis for a shared cultural, philosophical and scientific heritage, so we were taught.

If you want to draw from the philosophical legacy of Ancient Greece, through the Roman Empire, up to our Anglo-Australian cultural roots, please be my guest. Indeed, this cultural narrative is very much a modern construct, created by the partisans of the British Empire. The latter, which ruled through cultural means as well as by force of arms, worked to build a cultural and philosophical legitimacy for its rule over nonwhite peoples.

If philosophy, science, art and culture all came from the Ancient Greeks, and was transmitted via the Romans to the British, well, where does that leave the rest of us? This is not to dispute the remarkable contributions of the Ancient Greeks to science and culture. I think that scientific achievements are absolutely awesome and should be respected. But if those accomplishments are portrayed as the exclusive province of Western civilisation, how does that include people outside of the accepted Western canon?

The Ancient Greeks invented democracy, and its art and architecture influenced generations of European designers. That is all well and good, but leaves me with a question. Why was it necessary for the Europeans to basically copy Islamic architecture and art, stealing from the Saracens? The latter is not my expression, but the title of a book by historian Diana Darke.

European architecture, including the recently refurbished Notre Dame Cathedral, owes its success to Islamic input. The Saracens, an offhand name given by Europe to the Islamic/Turkish East, provided direct templates copied by European architects. Landmarks of Western civilisation, such as Notre Dame and other cathedrals, owe a forgotten debt to Islamic architecture. Somehow, expressing gratitude to the Islamic influences in European architecture is omitted from the triumphalist construction of an overarching Western civilisation.

No, I am not disparaging the education that I received from Sydney University. I just wish they would include all of us; the non-English speaking world has made its contributions to the pursuit of science and culture. I would have thought that such achievements belong to all of humanity.

Create an emergency preparedness plan.

This question, while highly important, is a bit vague. The kind of emergency that we are facing determines the kind of preparedness planning required.

What does that mean?

Working as a technical writer over the last 30 years, I have had to produce emergency procedures documents. The Australian financial industry is subject to myriad regulations and safety procedures. The Australian Prudential Regulatory Authority (APRA), created by legislation in 1998, oversees the implementation of risk management procedures by Australian authorised deposit-taking institutions.

The APRA has a standard, CPS 230, Operational Risk Management. This requires that your business institution have a plan in place to continue operations in the event of major disruptions or disasters. Identifying and managing your operational risks requires preparation, and that means having procedures – an emergency plan – in place. What happens when there is a fire, flooding, another pandemic, which severely degrades the capability of your institution to function?

Preparing for such emergencies requires preparation and planning.

Let’s step outside the world of business for a minute, and ask ourselves a question – what happens when private business creates a sociopolitical and environmental problem? Do governments have an emergency plan in place for those kinds of problems?

Why do I ask these questions? A long awaited report in Britain was released only earlier this year. A prolonged enquiry into the dilapidated and failing system of Britain’s waterway regulations and sewage management, the Cunliffe report, this review provides a damning indictment of the privatised water sector in Britain.

For instance, not only have water bills increased for households across Britain, major effusions of untreated sewage are dumped into waterways around the nation. Water stations and equipment are neglected, the companies that run water services, such as Thames Water, are facing bankruptcy, and the mega gallons of effluent in Britain’s rivers pose a significant health risk.

Basically, Britain’s waterways are turning to shit. Why do I use that vulgar colloquialism? The conclusion of an article in Prospect Magazine, which reviews the impact of privatisation on the provision of water and filtration services is ‘How our water went to shit.’

You may find a map of the waterways in England and Wales filled with untreated sewage.

During the prime ministership of Thatcher’s UK conservatives, privatisation of public services, such as water provision, was promoted as a way to revitalise a decrepit sector of the economy. Instead, privatisation has produced leaking pipes, rivers unfit to swim in, and gallons of untreated sewage spilling into waterways.

If a business model fails to provide basic services to the public, then we can reasonably conclude that that particular business model is a failure. It is time for emergency measures, renationalising the water companies to revamp failing infrastructure and respond to the public health threat of unsanitary drinking water.

I am old enough to remember the April 1986 Chernobyl nuclear disaster, and the response of the Soviet authorities. The latter were lambasted in the corporate media not only for their alleged incompetence in running a nuclear reactor, but also for their allegedly slow and ineffective response to that serious emergency. If they cannot protect their own citizens from nuclear fallout, so we were told, how can we trust Moscow’s ability to handle other serious ecological disasters?

Whether Moscow’s response to the Chernobyl nuclear accident was adequate or not, I do not know, and is outside the scope of this article. I do know that if the business sector creates an environmental and medical emergency, such as failing to provide clean safe drinking water, then questions must be asked if the guilty parties will be brought to account.

In capitalist societies, the profits are privatised, but the risks and harmful consequences are socialised – the tab is picked up by the public.

Emergency preparedness is not something that can be built up overnight. Planning is essential, to be sure. However, adequate responses to climate emergencies takes decades of information gathering and public investment.

We have all read news about the flash floods which occurred earlier this year in Texas. Flash flooding is nothing new in Texas, and the authorities responded as best they could. Sadly, there was loss of lives, including children, in the recent flooding disaster.

I would like to highlight a measure, long proposed by scientists, engineers and climate experts, which would increase the ability of the relevant authorities to respond and manage such disasters.

For decades, Congressional lawmakers (both Republican and Democrat) have rejected demands to install adequate flood warning gauges and systems across the major waterways and rivers in the United States.

Stream gauges, the necessary equipment to monitor flooding in waterways, are crucial in gathering and providing advance warnings of rising floodwaters. The absence of such gauges is not front page news, but constitutes a serious gap in flood emergency management.

The Trump administration, in the name of saving money, is cutting back funding for climate change and weather forecasting systems even further. Reducing such warning systems will only dilute the capacity of emergency response services to adequately prepare and address these kinds of worsening climate induced disasters.

When we lose the ability to protect life, property, biodiversity, agricultural resources and drinking water from disasters, then it is time to abandon the economic model that prioritises private profits over the public health and hygiene.

Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that.

The game of cricket is completely uninteresting to me. That is the first observation. The nation of Zimbabwe is absolutely foreign to me. I have never been there, and I do not know as Zimbabweans.

Why am I explaining all this? The performance of the Zimbabwean cricket team, playing against England in May this year, was a source of immense joy for me personally. Why? I am not a cricket fan, nor am I Zimbabwean.

I am always overjoyed when small nations, especially those that have experienced trauma and prolonged suffering, find success in the field of sport. I am happy for diasporan communities, who live with a sense of melancholic disconnection from their homeland, when they confront nations that have traditionally dominated professional sport.

England is a cricketing powerhouse, its team one of the most successful in the world. In the days of the British empire, cricket was exported to its colonies. Constructing a cultural identity based on the imperial power is a necessary concomitant to empire-expansion. Empires have never relied on force alone to control their subjugated populations.

Cementing cultural and ideological links with the imperial centre of power is a vital prop for reinforcing colonial power. Winning the consent of the governed through sport and culture is just as important as projecting imperialist military power.

Zimbabwe, formerly Rhodesia, learnt cricket from the English. Its team has not played against England since 2003. The economic and social problems of Zimbabwe are widely known. Media coverage of that nation’s economic travails is motivated perhaps more so by British sour grapes over the loss of their former colony, rather than pure humanitarian considerations for Zimbabwe’s farming and poor communities.

Playing a Test match against England in Nottingham earlier this year, the game was an occasion for Zimbabweans resident in England to come together and celebrate. Hundreds of Zimbabwean flags fluttered proudly, cuisine from the mother country was available at impromptu stalls, and songs rang out from the passionate crowd.

The Chevrons, the Zimbabwean cricket team, were roundly defeated by England. The latter’s experience in cricket showed. However, that did not diminish the carnival and community spirit of the Zimbabweans in attendance.

While the Chevrons were resoundingly trounced this time around, they will learn from their defeat, improve their skills, and bounce back the next time. I am quite certain they will recover from their initial heartbreak to achieve supreme successes in the future.

In the meantime, I will be cheering them on from Sydney.

What bothers you and why?

There is a vast legion of answers to that question, but let’s focus on a specific issue which fits into this category.

It is irritating to witness migrant communities, whether here in Sydney or in the United States, recycle the bigotry and prejudices of the mainstream Anglophone society onto other, newer ethnic groups. Only a few months ago, I published an article with a question to those Irish Americans who voted for Donald Trump’s MAGA platform.

Trump and his MAGA colleagues have openly expressed their contempt of migrants. His administration has deported (or at least attempting to) thousands of migrants to Latin American nations. He has used the powers of the 1798 Alien Enemies act to deport the people he deems a threat.

The irony is that the 1798 act was passed in order to target Irish Catholics, the latter regarded as the original internal enemy. My sincerest hope is that the MAGA Irish Americans will reconsider their political viewpoints, and recognise that the Trump/Vance team is using the age-old tactic of divide-and-rule.

A few years ago, during Trump’s first term in office, I wrote about the threat of deportation hanging over the Iraqi Assyrian and Chaldean communities. The latter two groups, having supported Trump by regurgitating Islamophobic hatred during the 2016 election, subsequently faced deportation to Iraq and Syria. Their tears of self-pity made for a human-interest story. It also demonstrated their remarkably narrow-minded politics.

No, I am not writing this article as an ‘I told you so’ point-scoring exercise. I am writing in the hope that those migrant communities who supported Trump politically will now re-examine their attitudes in light of the MAGA cult’s unrestrained bigotry.

When migrants arrive in a new country, full of hope and ambition to start a new life, they have to overcome the bigotry of the host community. In the Anglophone nations, nonwhite migrants faced enormous obstacles, and had to overcome them step by step to achieve a level of success.

Once established, the settled communities forget where they came from. Expressing a similar, parallel prejudice against newly arrived migrants only perpetuates a cycle of exclusion and hatred.

No, I am not suggesting that multicultural inclusion and acceptance is impossible – far from it. Overcoming racism and ethnocentric snobbery is a long struggle, and ultimately successful and rewarding.

What countries do you want to visit?

There are many nations around the world which would be extraordinarily interesting to visit. You could name almost any country in Africa – Nigeria, Botswana, Egypt – and I would eagerly jump at the opportunity to visit.

Let’s approach this question beyond mere individual satisfaction or enjoyment. Where can I, as an Australian by birth, demonstrated my solidarity and interest in a nation’s people and culture?

It has been 30 years since the execution of Nigerian environmental activist and writer Ken Saro-Wiwa. Nigeria, and the Niger Delta in particular is rich in oil. The delta has been the subject of intensive oil exploration and extraction. This practice has been highly damaging to the natural environment and Ogoni people.

Highlighting the ecologically destructive practices of Shell oil corporation on his native Ogoniland, he formed a nonviolent organisation, the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP).

MOSOP declared that Shell petroleum corporation destroyed the natural environment, polluted the waterways, derived enormous profits from the sale of crude oil, and provided nothing for the Ogoni people. A new word was basically invented at this time (the late 1980s and early 1990s) for this practice – extractivism.

He and his fellow activists, denouncing the extractivism of multinational oil companies in the early 1990s, were targeted by the Nigerian military regime. The peaceful protests organised by MOSOP were met with violent repression. Shell corporation and the Nigerian authorities were colluding to silence any voices which spoke out against the exploitative practices of oil multinationals.

Brought to court on trumped up charges, the Ogoni 9, of which Saro-Wiwa was part, were sentenced to death and hanged in November 1995. Earlier this month, the Nigerian government issued a posthumous pardon for Saro-Wiwa.

Saro-Wiwa wrote of his experiences while in detention – A Month and a Day. Arrested in June 1993, he was held in deplorable conditions. It was the first of many clashes with the Nigerian authorities.

His book was published in 1996 in Australia, with a preface by Anglo-Scottish novelist William Boyd. That book was eye-opening, particularly given the political climate of the early-mid 1990s. The socialist bloc in Eastern Europe had just dissolved, and the corporate-controlled media was declaring the triumph of capitalism. The future belonged to Coca-Cola, McDonald’s, Hollywood movies and fast cars, did it not?

Saro-Wiwa’s sacrifice, along with his Ogoni compatriots, reminded the world that capitalism involves exploitation and ecological degradation. Capitalism’s cheerleaders can jump up and down about supermarkets and hamburgers, but they cannot obscure the fact that Saro-Wiwa exposed the ugly truth of the profiteering extractivism at the heart of multinational corporations.

I would like to visit Saro-Wiwa’s grave, as well as the final resting place of the Ogoni 9 in Nigeria, and pay my respects to them.

So, Nigeria – that’s one.

Let’s stay in Africa, and venture over to Kenya.

Kenya has been a fascinating country for me over the decades. My late father made me aware of Kenya – in what way? As a cradle of humankind. Kenya is home to extensive archaeological and paleontological discoveries, including fossils which tell the story of human evolution.

Louis Leakey (1903 – 1972) the British-Kenyan paleontologist, made fossil hunting seem exciting and daring in his documentaries. I remember watching grainy old footage of Leakey out and about in the field, which was usually Lake Turkana, determinedly digging some patch of ground. Mary Leakey, Louis’ partner, was a scientist in her own right, sharing the glory of paleontological discoveries.

Their son Richard, who sadly passed away in 2022, was also a noted paleontologist.

Lake Turkana, located in northwest Kenya (branching into Ethiopia) is actually a saline desert lake. Surrounded by arid country, it is not the first place you would expect to be habitable for hominins. However, Lake Turkana’s eastern foreshore has yielded literally hundreds of hominin fossils, providing a unique insight into early human evolution.

A treasure trove of fossils, the story of human evolution is arguably the most important paleontological discovery of the last decades of the twentieth century. No, I am not rejecting the importance of quantum mechanics, continental plate tectonics or the germ theory of disease for their impact on our society and how we live. Each in turn faced fierce resistance when initially posited, gradually acquiring consensus based on the preponderance of evidence.

However, it is the natural history of human evolution, possessing a philosophically materialist foundation with no reference to or need for supernatural intervention, which is the most fascinating yet challenging consensus in contemporary capitalist society.

Kenya, while a small nation geographically, has played an outsized role in revealing the human story. The Kenyan Rift Valley, the subject of exploration for the last 50 years, has more secrets to reveal. Kenya has solidified its claim as the original location of humankind.

It would be an easy and entertaining option to be yet another Aussie tourist in Bali. I am certain that Bali is very appealing, but treading the well worn path of what is marketed as Aussie tourism is not for me.

Describe one positive change you have made in your life.

If I had to select one positive change I have made in my life, it is the following: stopped worrying about fitting in or belonging. If I fit in with a particular group or social class, that is fantastic. If I do not, so be it – I stopped overthinking about that topic and losing sleep over it.

Some clarification is in order here.

It is important for your mental health to have a sense of belonging. We all need friendships, a social circle and the support of our peers. It is important for our self-esteem to obtain the approval of our friends and colleagues. When my manager gives me feedback about my work, I listen closely and change my work behaviour to meet the requirements of the job.

In Australia, there is an ongoing discussion about social cohesion. What exactly does that phrase mean? Political commentators from the major parties, as well as sociologists and immigration experts have weighed in on the topic. Under previous prime ministers, social cohesion was sometimes used interchangeably with social inclusion. The latter term has a more emphasis on the notion of belonging.

The underlying concept of social cohesion is nothing new. The term tries to encapsulate how governments can shape a society in which individuals feel they belong, and in reciprocal fashion how individuals can participate in activities that increase and encourage a sense of belonging. Both the wider community and the individual must change to achieve social cohesion.

Indeed, the Islamic philosopher and scholar Ibn Khaldun (1332 – 1406) arguably the founder of sociology, elaborated a concept of asabiyyah, or group cohesion. Khaldun argued that a social group’s ability to bind individuals together was the most crucial factor in sustaining a group’s longevity and consistency. Working for the group did not negate the individual; on the contrary, an individual’s best way to realise their own belonging is to contribute to the wellbeing of the group.

Greater urbanisation and economic mercantile activity has eroded social bonds, diminishing an individual’s ability to connect, thus increasing isolation and social fragmentation.

Erik Eriksson (1902 – 1994), the noted social psychologist, highlighted how he stumbled upon the issue of belonging. Being of Danish Jewish background, he found himself attacked by non-Jewish Danish students for being a Jew; yet at the yeshiva, he was attacked by Jewish students for being a blond, blue-eyed Nordic type.

I have found that belonging is a two-edged sword; being born in Australia, I still get challenged by the obnoxious question ‘where do you come from?’ by the Anglo Australians of the low IQ variety. I still have to prove my ‘Australian-ness’, even though I have lived here all my life.

While among Armenians, my support for the Palestinian cause is challenged by the contemptuously sneering question ‘why are you with Muslims?’ by my fellow diasporan Armenians infected with the same low IQ as the Anglo Australian majority.

My late father taught me to stand with the oppressed, regardless of their religious affiliation or ethnicity. So I have found the lack of solidarity among Sydney Armenians a barrier to a sense of collective belonging. The Palestinians did not choose the religion of their colonisers. If the oppressors of the Palestinians were Catholic, Buddhist or Sikh, I am certain they would resist colonisation in the ways they are currently doing.

I have had to stop overthinking about a loss of belonging, and concentrate on the areas where I do belong. Every week, I make it a point to read about an Islamic philosopher or scientist from the golden age of Islam. No, I am not religious myself, but reading that Muslim scholars were wrestling with questions that we are grappling with today gives me a strong sense of satisfaction. The Anglophone world owes an enormous debt of gratitude to the Arab/Islamic scholars.

In this world of neoliberal capitalism, hyper-individualistic competition is elevated to a way of life. It is time to break away from this dystopian, dysfunctional consensus, and find ways of belonging which are based on community solidarity.

If you could have something named after you, what would it be?

Thinking about this question raises a number of possibilities. Should I think only of my ego, and have the satisfaction of seeing my name attached to something popular? Or should I think about making my mark in a particular field, contributing something important to future generations?

How about combining the two. I think I would be ecstatic if I could have a new method of scientific management in business named after me. That would be an enormous contribution to the improvement of business processes, and also provide the egotistical validation of post-mortem fame. Well, it would be wonderful to have a new business management process named after me while I am alive, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

I am certain we are all familiar with Taylorism, the scientific management method named after American mechanical engineer Frederick Winslow Taylor (1856 – 1915). His model of factory production, innovative for its time, was the mainspring of Fordism, the business process implemented by the car manufacturer and founder of Ford Motor Company, Henry Ford. The latter pioneered a system of mass production in manufacturing which was subsequently widely imitated.

Taylorism today is largely superseded by newer business management processes – Continuous Improvement, Business Process Reengineering (BPR) – you may find multiple resources about these topics. Taylorism regarded individual workers as automatons, and required adherence to rigid procedures. Now, procedures are all well and good, and they form the backbone of a successful production. However, stifling individual creativity and flexibility is harmful to overall business needs.

Continuous Improvement is based upon the Japanese concept of Kaizen – a philosophy and business culture which should permeate the entire organisation. It is translated as Continuous Improvement and takes a holistic approach to business management. Taylorism breaks down tasks into discrete units. Continuous Improvement encourages employee engagement to improve business efficiency.

It is beyond the scope of this brief article to summarise the differences between all the scientific management practices. I am not suggesting that I have a blueprint for an entirely new management approach which is superior to Continuous Improvement or Business Process Reengineering. However, after decades of experience in the IT industry, having witnessed all the management consultants and their differing business philosophies, I think it is time to come up with an integrated approach.

A quick word about AI. The latter is already impacting business on so many levels. Bill Gates, billionaire entrepreneur, is hyping the success of AI, and claims that in a few years, AI systems will replace doctors, lawyers, accountants – his vision does not extend to replacing useless, intellectually barren and overvalued CEOs. This is a bit of AI hyperbole on the part of those who stand to profit most from the deployment of AI as it currently stands.

In fact, I think we have AI the wrong way around. I do not want robots to do all the creative work, like art and writing, so I have more time to wash dishes and laundry. Robotised synthetic intelligence can do all the monotonous and menial tasks, so that I have more time to concentrate on creative pursuits, such as art, painting, music and writing. Freddie deBoer, writer at Truthdig, states that those who are talking up AI have a vested interest in increasing their networth related to AI.

Be that as it may, I think AI has forced us to rethink our business management practices, and we need to update our ways of doing business to reflect people’s needs in this new world of AI. Do I have a solution? No, not yet. But it is worth thinking about.

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

The short answer is – all the time.

In my life, I derive enjoyment from researching and writing the long form essay. Articles that dive deeply into an issue, particularly sociopolitical and cultural topics, are a source of great inspiration for myself. The humanities, broadly understood, is my intellectual home.

I am definitely aware of short form content – Instagram and TikTok are the platforms for reels and videos. But I have said no – I have never uploaded a video to TikTok or photos to Instagram. Am I missing out on a larger audience? Yes. Does that disturb me? No.

All different sorts of organisations have an active presence on TikTok and Instagram. I have been asked, over the years, to begin a YouTube channel, or start a podcast. I have thus far said no. Please do not misunderstand – I am aware of the outreach these platforms have, and millions of people view video content, and listen to audio podcasts. Eventually, I will succumb to the rising tide of performative reels on TikTok, and submit my own audiovisual content.

But not just yet.

I am saying no, not because I am a stubborn Luddite, labouring away with obsolete technology in the vain hope my ancient ways will survive. I have had experience in running a weekly radio programme when I was a university student.

As a technical writer with over 30 years experience, user guides have definitely evolved from the one-thousand page printed manual, which nobody reads anyway, to interactive audiovisual pages on the internet. Help guides contain text, but are bolstered by webinars and video presentations. So, it is no secret to me that audience engagement has moved beyond just text.

I say no, because a deep dive into serious issues requires much more than just a TikTok video or Facebook reel. Publishing an examination of an issue requires concentration, not just short term attention spans motivated by clicks on the web.

This year is the 500th anniversary of the German Peasants’ War. A widespread uprising by huge numbers of peasants in feudal Central Europe, this uprising was the largest and most serious rebellion by the lower classes until the 1789 French Revolution.

Frederick Engels, a participant in the German revolution of his times, wrote an extensive analysis of the 1525 popular revolt. Evaluating the political and socioeconomic impact of this uprising was the goal of his book.

Jacobin magazine has published a number of articles evaluating this uprising, its egalitarian aspirations, the role of Martin Luther and the Reformation, the interplay between religious authority and social rebellion, and the long term implications of its eventual defeat. While it was militarily defeated, the egalitarian radicalism of the rebellious peasantry inspired future generations.

We are all at least casually familiar with the figure of Martin Luther, and his sturdy opposition to the Catholic Church. How many of us know about the radical preacher Thomas Münzter, who called for the complete overturning of the feudal social order, invoking Christian doctrine as his justification? A radical theologian, he urged the poor peasants to rise up, to the horror of Martin Luther.

What is the point of all this? It demonstrates that a deep dive into socioeconomic and political issues requires a long form article, and I have barely scratched the surface with the above summary. It is not a topic that can be summarised in a TikTok video.

I am quite certain that a quick YouTube search will return multiple videos on the subject of the German Peasants’ War. If you want to feel a smug sense of self-satisfaction thinking you have proven me wrong, go for it.

I think it is important to counter the short-attention span culture reinforced by social media, and encourage people to slow down, take the time to read, and thus gain a greater understanding of important issues, rather than take advice from social media influencers. After all, the latter are only interested in clicks and likes, which is not the basis for grounding ourselves in an encompassing world view.