Communism – or, to be more precise, Marxism – made sweeping promises of a rosy utopian world society: all people are equal; from each according to his ability, to each according to his need; the end of the bourgeoisie, the rise of the proletariat; and the end of poverty. In reality, the nature of the communist societies that emerged during the 20^th century was far from this grandiose vision.

Communism obviously was not successful in terms of the most obvious measure: namely, its own longevity. The world's first and its longest-lived communist regime, the Soviet Union, well and truly collapsed. The world's most populous country, the People's Republic of China, is stronger than ever, but effectively remains communist in name only (as does its southern neighbour, Vietnam).

However, this article does not seek to measure communism's success based on the survival rate of particular governments; nor does it seek to analyse (in any great detail) why particular regimes failed (and there's no shortage of other articles that do analyse just that). More important than whether the regimes themselves prospered or met their demise, is their legacy and their long-term impact on the societies that they presided over. So, how successful was the communism experiment, in actually improving the economic, political, and cultural conditions of the populations that experienced it?

Success:

• Health care in Cuba (internationally recognised as being one of the world's best and most accessible public health care systems)
• The arts (Soviet theatre and Soviet ballet received funding and support for many years, as Cuban theatre still does; despite severely limiting artistic freedom, most communist regimes did actually make the arts thrive with subsidies)
• Education (despite the heavy dose of propaganda in schools, almost all communist regimes have massively improved their populations' literacy rates, and have invested heavily in more schools and universities, and in universal access to them)
• Infrastructure (for example, the USSR built an impressive railway network, a glorious metro in Moscow, and numerous power stations, although not all of amazing quality; and PR China has built an excellent highway network, among many other things)
• Womens' rights (the USSR strongly promoted women in the workforce, as does China and Cuba; the Soviet Union was also a pioneer in legalised abortion)
• Industrialisation (putting aside for a moment the enormous sacrifices made to achieve it, the fact is that the USSR, China, and Vietnam transformed rapidly from agrarian economies into industrial powerhouses under communism, and they remain world industrial heavyweights today)

Failure:

• Health care in general (Soviet health care was particularly infamous for its appalling state, and apparently not much has changed in Russia today; China's public health care system is generally considered adequate, but it's hardly an exemplary model either)
• Housing (for the vast majority, Soviet housing and Mao-era Chinese housing were of terrible quality, were overcrowded, and suffered from chronic shortages, and it continues to be this way in Cuba; although the Soviet residences can't be all bad, because Russians are now protesting their demolition)
• Environment (communist regimes, especially the USSR and PR China, have been directly responsible for some of the world's worst environmental catastrophes, the effects of which are expected to linger on for centuries)
• Food security (the communist practice of collectivisation of agriculture has almost always had disastrous results – the USSR experienced food shortages throughout its existence, Maoist China suffered one of the worst famines in human history, and North Korea has endured such acute food scarcity that its population has on occasion resorted to cannibalism)
• Freedom (all communist states so far in history have been totalitarian regimes, and have severely curtailed all freedoms – of speech, of movement, of artistic expression, of religion – and that oppressive legacy lives on to this day)
• Culture and heritage (communist regimes have waged war against their peoples' traditions, religions, and icons, and they have also physically destroyed numerous historic artifacts and monuments; this has resulted in cultural vacuums that may never fully heal)
• Propaganda (truth has invariably taken a back seat to propaganda in communist states – supposedly, the government is perfect, foreign powers are evil, and history can be re-written)
• Corruption (far from the Marxist ideal of universal equality, it has most definitely been a case of some are more equal than others in communist states – communism has engendered endemic bribery and nepotism every time)
• Morale (as the old communist joke goes: "we pretend to work, and they pretend to pay us" – nobody has any motivation to work hard, so productivity nationwide plummets; as well as work morale, the oppressive atmosphere of communist regimes has resulted in ongoing social malaise – modern Russia, for example, has one of the world's highest alcoholism and suicide rates)
• Human damage (rather than making everyone a winner, communism has generally made almost everyone a victim – as well as the huge number of people murdered, imprisoned, and tortured as enemies of a communist state, almost all citizens other than Party elites have endured prolonged suffering due to the states' constant intrusion into their lives)

Closing remarks

Personally, I have always considered myself quite a "leftie": I'm a supporter of socially progressive causes, and in particular, I've always been involved with environmental movements. However, I've never considered myself a socialist or a communist, and I hope that this brief article on communism reflects what I believe are my fairly balanced and objective views on the topic.

Based on my list of pros and cons above, I would quite strongly tend to conclude that, overall, the communism experiment of the 20^th century was not successful at improving the economic, political, and cultural conditions of the populations that experienced it.

I'm reluctant to draw comparisons, because I feel that it's a case of apples and oranges, and also because I feel that a pure analysis should judge communist regimes on their merits and faults, and on theirs alone. However, the fact is that, based on the items in my lists above, much more success has been achieved, and much less failure has occurred, in capitalist democracies, than has been the case in communist states (and the pinnacle has really been achieved in the world's socialist democracies). The Nordic Model – and indeed the model of my own home country, Australia – demonstrates that a high quality of life and a high level of equality are attainable without going down the path of Marxist Communism; indeed, arguably those things are attainable only if Marxist Communism is avoided.

I hope you appreciate what I have endeavoured to do in this article: that is, to avoid the question of whether or not communist theory is fundamentally flawed; to avoid a religious rant about the "evils" of communism or of capitalism; and to avoid judging communism based on its means, and to instead concentrate on what ends it achieved. And I humbly hope that I have stuck to that plan laudably. Because if one thing is needed more than anything else in the arena of analyses of communism, it's clear-sightedness, and a focus on the hard facts, rather than religious zeal and ideological ranting.

Most discussion of late seems to treat this encroaching joblessness entirely as an economic issue. Families without incomes, spiralling wealth inequality, broken taxation mechanisms. And, consequently, the solutions being proposed are mainly economic ones. For example, a Universal Basic Income to help everyone make ends meet. However, in my opinion, those economic issues are actually relatively easy to address, and as a matter of sheer necessity we will sort them out sooner or later, via a UBI or via whatever else fits the bill.

The more pertinent issue is actually a social and a psychological one. Namely: how will people keep themselves occupied in such a world? How will people nourish their ambitions, feel that they have a purpose in life, and feel that they make a valuable contribution to society? How will we prevent the malaise of despair, depression, and crime from engulfing those who lack gainful enterprise? To borrow the colourful analogy that others have penned: assuming that there's food on the table either way, how do we head towards a Star Trek rather than a Mad Max future?

Keep busy

The truth is, since the Industrial Revolution, an ever-expanding number of people haven't really needed to work anyway. What I mean by that is: if you think about what jobs are actually about providing society with the essentials such as food, water, shelter, and clothing, you'll quickly realise that fewer people than ever are employed in such jobs. My own occupation, web developer, is certainly not essential to the ongoing survival of society as a whole. Plenty of other occupations, particularly in the services industry, are similarly remote from humanity's basic needs.

So why do these jobs exist? First and foremost, demand. We live in a world of free markets and capitalism. So, if enough people decide that they want web apps, and those people have the money to make it happen, then that's all that's required for "web developer" to become and to remain a viable occupation. Second, opportunity. It needs to be possible to do that thing known as "developing web apps" in the first place. In many cases, the opportunity exists because of new technology; in my case, the Internet. And third, ambition. People need to have a passion for what they do. This means that, ideally, people get to choose an occupation of their own free will, rather than being forced into a certain occupation by their family or by the government. If a person has a natural talent for his or her job, and if a person has a desire to do the job well, then that benefits the profession as a whole, and, in turn, all of society.

Those are the practical mechanisms through which people end up spending much of their waking life at work. However, there's another dimension to all this, too. It is very much in the interest of everyone that makes up "the status quo" – i.e. politicians, the police, the military, heads of big business, and to some extent all other "well to-do citizens" – that most of society is caught up in the cycle of work. That's because keeping people busy at work is the most effective way of maintaining basic law and order, and of enforcing control over the masses. We have seen throughout history that large-scale unemployment leads to crime, to delinquency and, ultimately, to anarchy. Traditionally, unemployment directly results in poverty, which in turn directly results in hunger. But even if the unemployed get their daily bread – even if the crisis doesn't reach let them eat cake proportions – they are still at risk of falling to the underbelly of society, if for no other reason, simply due to boredom.

So, assuming that a significantly higher number of working-age men and women will have significantly fewer job prospects in the immediate future, what are we to do with them? How will they keep themselves occupied?

The Games

I propose that, as an alternative to traditional employment, these people engage in large-scale, long-term, government-sponsored, semi-recreational activities. These must be activities that: (a) provide some financial reward to participants; (b) promote physical health and social well-being; and (c) make a tangible positive contribution to society. As a massive tongue-in-cheek, I call this proposal "The Jobless Games".

My prime candidate for such an activity would be a long-distance walk. The journey could take weeks, months, even years. Participants could number in the hundreds, in the thousands, even in the millions. As part of the walk, participants could do something useful, too; for example, transport non-urgent goods or mail, thus delivering things that are actually needed by others, and thus competing with traditional freight services. Walking has obvious physical benefits, and it's one of the most social things you can do while moving and being active. Such a journey could also be done by bicycle, on horseback, or in a variety of other modes.

Other recreational programs could cover the more adventurous activities, such as climbing, rafting, and sailing. However, these would be less suitable, because: they're far less inclusive of people of all ages and abilities; they require a specific climate and geography; they're expensive in terms of equipment and expertise; they're harder to tie in with some tangible positive end result; they're impractical in very large groups; and they damage the environment if conducted on too large a scale.

What I'm proposing is not competitive sport. These would not be races. I don't see what having winners and losers in such events would achieve. What I am proposing is that people be paid to participate in these events, out of the pocket of whoever has the money, i.e. governments and big business. The conditions would be simple: keep up with the group, and behave yourself, and you keep getting paid.

I see such activities co-existing alongside whatever traditional employment is still available in future; and despite all the doom and gloom predictions, the truth is that there always has been real work out there, and there always will be. My proposal is that, same as always, traditional employment pays best, and thus traditional employment will continue to be the most attractive option for how to spend one's days. Following that, "The Games" pay enough to get by on, but probably not enough to enjoy all life's luxuries. And, lastly, as is already the case in most first-world countries today, for the unemployed there should exist a social security payment, and it should pay enough to cover life's essentials, but no more than that. We already pay people sit down money; how about a somewhat more generous payment of stand up money?

Along with these recreational activities that I've described, I think it would also be a good idea to pay people for a lot of the work that is currently done by volunteers without financial reward. In a future with less jobs, anyone who decides to peel potatoes in a soup kitchen, or to host bingo games in a nursing home, or to take disabled people out for a picnic, should be able to support him- or herself and to live in a dignified manner. However, as with traditional employment, there are also only so many "volunteer" positions that need filling, and even with that sector significantly expanded, there would still be many people left twiddling their thumbs. Which is why I think we need some other solution, that will easily and effectively get large numbers of people on their feet. And what better way to get them on their feet, than to say: take a walk!

Large-scale, long-distance walks could also solve some other problems that we face at present. For example, getting a whole lot of people out of our biggest and most crowded cities, and "going on tour" to some of our smallest and most neglected towns, would provide a welcome economic boost to rural areas, considering all the support services that such activities would require; while at the same time, it would ease the crowding in the cities, and it might even alleviate the problem of housing affordability, which is acute in Australia and elsewhere. Long-distance walks in many parts of the world – particularly in Europe – could also provide great opportunities for an interchange of language and culture.

In summary

There you have it, my humble suggestion to help fill the void in peoples' lives in the future. There are plenty of other things that we could start paying people to do, that are more intellectual and that make a more tangible contribution to society: e.g. create art, be spiritual, and perform in music and drama shows. However, these things are too controversial for the government to support on such a large scale, and their benefit is a matter of opinion. I really think that, if something like this is to have a chance of succeeding, it needs to be dead simple and completely uncontroversial. And what could be simpler than walking?

Whatever solutions we come up with, I really think that we need to start examining the issue of 21^st-century job redundancy from this social angle. The economic angle is a valid one too, but it has already been analysed quite thoroughly, and it will sort itself out with a bit of ingenuity. What we need to start asking now is: for those young, fit, ambitious people of the future that lack job prospects, what activity can they do that is simple, social, healthy, inclusive, low-impact, low-cost, and universal? I'd love to hear any further suggestions you may have.

Company rule, and the subsequent rule of the British Raj, are also acknowledged as contributing positively to the shaping of Modern India, having introduced the English language, built the railways, and established political and military unity. But these are overshadowed by its legacy of corporate greed and wholesale plunder, which continues to haunt the region to this day.

I recently read Four Heroes of India (1898), by F.M. Holmes, an antique book that paints a rose-coloured picture of Company (and later British Government) rule on the Subcontinent. To the modern reader, the book is so incredibly biased in favour of British colonialism that it would be hilarious, were it not so alarming. Holmes's four heroes were notable military and government figures of 18^th and 19^th century British India.

I'd like to present here four alternative heroes: men (yes, sorry, still all men!) who in my opinion represented the British far more nobly, and who left a far more worthwhile legacy in India. All four of these figures were founders or early members of The Asiatic Society (of Bengal), and all were pioneering academics who contributed to linguistics, science, and literature in the context of South Asian studies.

William Jones

The first of these four personalities was by far the most famous and influential. Sir William Jones was truly a giant of his era. The man was nothing short of a prodigy in the field of philology (which is arguably the pre-modern equivalent of linguistics). During his productive life, Jones is believed to have become proficient in no less than 28 languages, making him quite the polyglot:

Source: Memoirs of the Life, Writings and Correspondence, of Sir William Jones, John Shore Baron Teignmouth, 1806, Page 376.

Jones is most famous in scholarly history for being the person who first proposed the linguistic family of Indo-European languages, and thus for being one of the fathers of comparative linguistics. His work laid the foundations for the theory of a Proto-Indo-European mother tongue, which was researched in-depth by later linguists, and which is widely accepted to this day as being a language that existed and that had a sizeable native speaker population (despite there being no concrete evidence for it).

Jones spent 10 years in India, working in Calcutta as a judge. During this time, he founded The Asiatic Society of Bengal. Jones was the foremost of a loosely-connected group of British gentlemen who called themselves orientalists. (At that time, "oriental studies" referred primarily to India and Persia, rather than to China and her neighbours as it does today.)

Like his peers in the Society, Jones was a prolific translator. He produced the authoritative English translation of numerous important Sanskrit documents, including Manu Smriti (Laws of Manu), and Abhiknana Shakuntala. In the field of his "day job" (law), he established the right of Indian citizens to trial by jury under Indian jurisprudence. Plus, in his spare time, he studied Hindu astronomy, botany, and literature.

James Prinsep

The numismatist James Prinsep, who worked at the Benares (Varanasi) and Calcutta mints in India for nearly 20 years, was another of the notable British orientalists of the Company era. Although not quite in Jones's league, he was nevertheless an intelligent man who made valuable contributions to academia. His life was also unfortunately short: he died at the age of 40, after falling sick of an unknown illness and failing to recover.

Prinsep was the founding editor of the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal. He is best remembered as the pioneer of numismatics (the study of coins) on the Indian Subcontinent: in particular, he studied numerous coins of ancient Bactrian and Kushan origin. Prinsep also worked on deciphering the Kharosthi and Brahmi scripts; and he contributed to the science of meteorology.

Charles Wilkins

The typographer Sir Charles Wilkins arrived in India in 1770, several years before Jones and most of the other orientalists. He is considered the first British person in Company India to have mastered the Sanskrit language. Wilkins is best remembered as having created the world's first Bengali typeface, which became a necessity when he was charged with printing the important text A Grammar of the Bengal Language (the first book written in Bengali to ever be printed), written by fellow orientalist Nathaniel Brassey Halhed, and more-or-less commissioned by Governor Warren Hastings.

It should come as no surprise that this pioneering man was one of the founders of The Asiatic Society of Bengal. Like many of his colleagues, Wilkins left a proud legacy as a translator: he was the first person to translate into English the Bhagavad Gita, the most revered holy text in all of Hindu lore. He was also the first director of the "India Office Library".

H. H. Wilson

The doctor Horace Hayman Wilson was in India slightly later than the other gentlemen listed here, not having arrived in India (as a surgeon) until 1808. Wilson was, for a part of his time in Company India, honoured with the role of Secretary of the Asiatic Society of Bengal.

Wilson was one of the key people to continue Jones's great endeavour of bridging the gap between English and Sanskrit. His key contribution was writing the world's first comprehensive Sanskrit-English dictionary. He also translated the Meghaduuta into English. In his capacity as a doctor, he researched and published on the matter of traditional Indian medical practices. He also advocated for the continued use of local languages (rather than of English) for instruction in Indian native schools.

The legacy

There you have it: my humble short-list of four men who represent the better side of the British presence in Company India. These men, and other orientalists like them, are by no means perfect, either. They too participated in the Company's exploitative regime. They too were part of the ruling elite. They were no Mother Teresa (the main thing they shared in common with her was geographical location). They did little to help the day-to-day lives of ordinary Indians living in poverty.

Nevertheless, they spent their time in India focused on what I believe were noble endeavours; at least, far nobler than the purely military and economic pursuits of many of their peers. Their official vocations were in administration and business enterprise, but they chose to devote themselves as much as possible to academia. Their contributions to the field of language, in particular – under that title I include philology, literature, and translation – were of long-lasting value not just to European gentlemen, but also to the educational foundations of modern India.

In recent times, the term orientalism has come to be synonymous with imperialism and racism (particularly in the context of the Middle East, not so much for South Asia). And it is argued that the orientalists of British India were primarily concerned with strengthening Company rule by extracting knowledge, rather than with truly embracing or respecting India's cultural richness. I would argue that, for the orientalists presented here at least, this was not the case: of course they were agents of British interests, but they also genuinely came to respect and admire what they studied in India, rather than being contemptuous of it.

The legacy of British orientalism in India was, in my opinion, one of the better legacies of British India in general. It's widely acknowledged that it had a positive long-term educational and intellectual effect on the Subcontinent. It's also a topic about which there seems to be insufficient material available – particularly regarding the biographical details of individual orientalists, apart from Jones – so I hope this article is useful to anyone seeking further sources.

I recently came across a gem of literary work, from the early days of New South Wales: The Present State of Australia, by Robert Dawson. The author spent several years (1826-1828) living in the Port Stephens area (about 200km north of Sydney), as chief agent of the Australian Agricultural Company, where he was tasked with establishing a grazing property. During his time there, Dawson lived side-by-side with the Worimi indigenous peoples, and Worimi anecdotes form a significant part of his book (which, officially, is focused on practical advice for British people considering migration to the Australian frontier).

In this article, I'd like to share quite a number of quotes from Dawson's book, which in my opinion may well constitute the oldest known (albeit informal) anthropological study of Indigenous Australians. Considering his rich account of Aboriginal tribal life, I find it surprising that Dawson seems to have been largely forgotten by the history books, and that The Present State of Australia has never been re-published since its first edition in 1830 (the copies produced in 1987 are just fascimiles of the original). I hope that this article serves as a tribute to someone who was an exemplary exception to what was then the norm.

Language

The book includes many passages containing Aboriginal words interspersed with English, as well as English words spelt phonetically (and amusingly) as the tribespeople pronounced them; contemporary Australians should find many of these examples familiar, from the modern-day Aboriginal accents:

On occasion, Dawson even goes into grammatical details of the indigenous languages:

It's clear that Dawson himself became quite prolific in the Worimi language, and that – at least for a while – an English-Worimi "creole" emerged as part of white-black dialogue in the Port Stephens area.

Food and water

Although this is probably one of the better-documented Aboriginal traits from the period, I'd also like to note Dawson's accounts of the tribespeoples' fondness for European food, especially for sugar:

Dawson also described their manner of eating; his account is not exactly flattering, and he clearly considers this behaviour to be "savage":

Regarding water, Dawson gave a practical description of the Worimi technique for getting a drink in the bush in dry times (and admits that said technique saved him from being up the creek a few times); now, of course, we know that similar techniques were common for virtually all Aboriginal peoples across Australia:

Tools and weapons

In numerous sections, Dawson described various tools that the Aborigines used, and their skill and dexterity in fashioning and maintaining them:

To the modern reader such as myself, Dawson's use of language (e.g. "a picture of savage life") invariably gives off a whiff of contempt and "European superiority". Personally, I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, and to brush this off as simply "using the vernacular of the time". In my opinion, this is fair justification for Dawson's manner of writing to some extent; but it also shows that he wasn't completely innocent, either: he too held some of the very views which he criticised in his contemporaries.

The tribespeople also exercised great agility in gathering the raw materials for their tools and shelters:

And they were quite dexterous in their crafting of nets and other items:

Music and dance

Dawson wrote fondly of his being witness to corroborees on several occasions, and he recorded valuable details of the song and dance involved:

Note Dawson's poetic efforts to bring to life the corroboree in words, with "bawling" sounds, "phalanx" movements, and "harlequin-like motion". Modern-day writers probably wouldn't bother to go to such lengths, instead assuming that their audience is familiar with the sights and sounds in question (at the very least, from TV shows). Dawson, who was writing for a Victorian English audience, didn't enjoy this luxury.

Families

In an era when most "white fellas" in the Colony were irrevocably destroying traditional Aboriginal family ties (a practice that was to continue well into the 20^th century), Dawson was appreciating and making note of the finer details that he witnessed:

He also observed the prevalence of monogamy amongst the tribes he encountered:

As well as the enduring bonds between parents and children:

Dawson made note of the good and the bad; in the case of families, he condoned the prevalence of domestic violence towards women in the Aboriginal tribes:

Clothing

Some comical accounts of how the Aborigines took to the idea of clothing in the early days:

They usually reacted well to gifts of garments:

Death and religion

Yet another topic which was scarcely investigated by Dawson's colonial peers – and which we now know to have been of paramount importance in all Aborigines' belief systems — rituals regarding death and mourning:

The Aborigines that Dawson became acquainted with, were convinced that the European settlers were re-incarnations of their ancestors; this belief was later found to be fairly widespread amongst Australia's indigenous peoples:

Dawson appears to have debated this topic at length with the tribespeople:

Inter-tribe relations

During his time with the Worimi and other tribes, Dawson observed many of the details of how neighbouring tribes interacted, for example, in the case of inter-tribal marriage:

In one chapter, Dawson gives an amusing account of how the Worimi slandered and villainised another tribe (the Myall people), with whom they were on unfriendly terms:

The book also explains that the members of a given tribe generally kept within their own ancestral lands, and that they were reluctant and fearful of too-often making contact with neighbouring tribes:

Relations with colonists

Throughout the book, general comments are made that insinuate the fault and the aggression in general of "white fella" in the Colony:

Dawson provides a number of specific examples of white aggression towards the Aborigines:

Sydney

As a modern-day Sydneysider myself, I had a good chuckle reading Dawson's account of his arrival for the first time in Sydney, in 1826:

No arrival in Sydney, from the outside world, for "three or four months"?! Who would have thought that a backwater penal town such as this, would one day become a cosmopolitan world city, that sees a jumbo jet land and take off every 5 minutes, every day of the week? Although, it seems that even back then, Dawson foresaw something of Sydney's future:

And, even back then, there were some (like Dawson) who preferred to get out of the "rat race" of Sydney town:

There's still a fair bit of bush all around Sydney; although, sadly, not as much as there was in Dawson's day.

General remarks

Dawson's impression of the Aborigines:

Nomadic nature of the tribes:

Tribal punishment:

Generosity of Aborigines (also illustrating their lack of a concept of ownership / personal property):

Ability to count / reckon:

Protocol for returning travellers in a tribe:

Final thoughts

Dawson wasn't exactly modest, in his assertion of being the foremost person in the Colony to make a fair representation of the Aborigines; however, I'd say his assertion is quite accurate. As far as I know, he does stand out as quite a solitary figure for his time, in his efforts to meaningfully engage with the tribes of the greater Sydney region, and to document them in a thorough and (relatively) unprejudiced work of prose.

Dawson's criticism of the prevailing attitudes was scathing, although it was clearly criticism that was ignored and unheeded by his contemporaries.

With statements like this, Dawson is inviting his fellow colonists to "go bush" and to become acquainted with an Aboriginal tribe, as he did. From others' accounts of the era, those who followed in his footsteps were few and far between.

So, why has a man and a book with so much to say about early contact with the Aborigines, lain largely forgotten and abandoned by the fickle sands of history? Probably the biggest reason, is that Dawson was just a common man. Sure, he was the first agent of AACo: but he was no intrepid explorer, like Burke and Wills; nor an important governor, like Arthur Phillip or Lachlan Macquarie. While the diaries and letters of bigwigs like these have been studied and re-published constantly, not everyone can enjoy the historical limelight.

No doubt also a key factor, was that Dawson ultimately fell out badly with the powerful Macarthur family, who were effectively his employers during his time in Port Stephens. The Present State of Australia is riddled with thinly veiled slurs at the Macarthurs, and it's quite likely that this guaranteed the book's not being taken seriously by anyone, in the Colony or elsewhere, for a long time.

Dawson's work is, in my opinion, an outstanding record of indigenous life in Australia, at a time when the ancient customs and beliefs were still alive and visible throughout most of present-day NSW. It also illustrates the human history of a geographically beautiful region that's quite close to my heart. Like many Sydneysiders, I've spent several summer holidays at Port Stephens during my life. I've also been camping countless times at nearby Myall Lakes; and I have some very dear family friends in Booral, a small town which sits alongside the Karuah River just upstream from Port Stephens (and which also falls within Worimi country).

In leaving as a legacy his narrative of the Worimi people and their neighbours (which is, as far as I know, the only surviving first-hand account of these people from the coloial era of any significance), I believe that Dawson's work should be lauded and celebrated. At a time when the norm for bush settlers was to massacre and to wreak havoc upon indigenous peoples, Dawson instead chose to respect and to make friends with those that he encountered.

Personally, I think the honour of "first anthropologist of the Aborigines" is one that Dawson can rightly claim (although others may feel free to dispute this). Descendants of the Worimi live in the Port Stephens area to this day; and I hope that they appreciate Dawson's tribute, as no doubt the spirits of their ancestors do.

Societal vices have always been bountiful. Back in the ol' days, it was just the usual suspects. War. Violence. Greed. Corruption. Injustice. Propaganda. Lewdness. Alcoholism. To name a few. In today's world, still more scourges have joined in the mix. Consumerism. Drug abuse. Environmental damage. Monolithic bureaucracy. And plenty more.

There always have been some folks who elect to isolate themselves from the masses, to renounce their mainstream-ness, to protect themselves from all that nastiness. And there always will be. Nothing wrong with doing so.

However, there's a difference between protecting oneself from "the evils of society", and blinding oneself to their very existence. Sometimes this difference is a fine line. Particularly in the case of families, where parents choose to shield from the Big Bad World not only themselves, but also their children. Protection is noble and commendable. Blindfolding, in my opinion, is cowardly and futile.

Seclusion

There are plenty of examples from bygone times, of historical abstainers from mainstream society. Monks and nuns, who have for millenia sought serenity, spirituality, abstinence, and isolation from the material. Hermits of many varieties: witches, grumpy old men / women, and solitary island-dwellers.

Religion has long been an important motive for seclusion. Many have settled on a reclusive existence as their solution to avoiding widespread evils and being closer to G-d. Other than adult individuals who choose a monastic life, there are also whole communities, composed of families with children, who live in seclusion from the wider world. The Amish in rural USA are probably the most famous example, and also one of the longest-running such communities. Many ultra-orthodox Jewish communities, particularly within present-day Israel, could also be considered as secluded.

More recently, the "commune living" hippie phenomenon has seen tremendous growth worldwide. The hippie ideology is, of course, generally an anti-religious one, with its acceptance of open relationships, drug use, lack of hierarchy, and often a lack of any formal G-d. However, the secluded lifestyle of hippie communes is actually quite similar to that of secluded religious groups. It's usually characterised by living amidst, and in tune with, nature; rejecting modern technology; and maintaining a physical distance from regular urban areas. The left-leaning members of these communities tend to strongly shun consumerism, and to promote serenity and spirituality, much like their G-d fearing comrades.

In a bubble

Like the members of these communities, I too am repulsed by many of the "evils" within the society in which we live. Indeed, the idea of joining such a community is attractive to me. It would be a pleasure and a relief to shut myself out from the blight that threatens me, and from everyone that's "infected" by it. Life would be simpler, more peaceful, more wholesome.

I empathise with those who have chosen this path in life. Just as it's tempting to succumb to all the world's vices, so too is it tempting to flee from them. However, such people are also living in a bubble. An artificial world, from which the real world has been banished.

What bothers me is not so much the independent adult people who have elected for such an existence. Despite all the faults of the modern world, most of us do at least enjoy far-reaching liberty. So, it's a free land, and adults are free to live as they will, and to blind themselves to what they will.

What does bother me, is that children are born and raised in such an existence. The adult knows what it is that he or she is shut off from, and has experienced it before, and has decided to discontinue experiencing it. The child, on the other hand, has never been exposed to reality, he or she knows only the confines of the bubble. The child is blind, but to what, it knows not.

This is a cowardly act on the part of the parents. It's cowardly because a child only develops the ability to combat and to reject the world's vices, such as consumerism or substance abuse, by being exposed to them, by possibly experimenting with them, and by making his or her own decisions. Parents that are serious about protecting their children do expose them to the Big Bad World, they do take risks; but they also do the hard yards in preparing their children for it: they ensure that their children are raised with education, discipline, and love.

Blindfolding children to the reality of wider society is also futile — because, sooner or later, whether still as children or later as adults, the Big Bad World exposes itself to all, whether you like it or not. No Amish countryside, no hippie commune, no far-flung island, is so far or so disconnected from civilisation that its inhabitants can be prevented from ever having contact with it. And when the day of exposure comes, those that have lived in their little bubble find themselves totally unprepared for the very "evils" that they've supposedly been protected from for all their lives.

Keep it balanced

In my opinion, the best way to protect children from the world's vices, is to expose them in moderation to the world's nasty underbelly, while maintaining a stable family unit, setting a strong example of rejecting the bad, and ensuring a solid education. That is, to do what the majority of the world's parents do. That's right: it's a formula that works reasonably well for billions of people, and that has been developed over thousands of years, so there must be some wisdom to it.

Obviously, children need to be protected from dangers that could completely overwhelm them. Bringing up a child in a favela environment is not ideal, and sometimes has horrific consequences, just watch City of G-d if you don't believe me. But then again, blindfolding is the opposite extreme; and one extreme can be as bad as the other. Getting the balance somewhere in between is the key.

There are plenty of articles round and about the interwebz, aimed more at the practical side of coming to Chile: i.e. tips regarding how to get around; lists of rough prices of goods / services; and crash courses in Chilean Spanish. There are also a number of commentaries on the cultural / social differences between Chile and elsewhere – on the national psyche, and on the political / economic situation.

My endeavour is to avoid this article from falling neatly into either of those categories. That is, I'll be covering some eccentricities of Chile that aren't practical tips as such, although knowing about them may come in handy some day; and I'll be covering some anecdotes that certainly reflect on cultural themes, but that don't pretend to paint the Chilean landscape inside-out, either.

Que disfrutiiy, po.

Fin de mes

Here in Chile, all that is money-related is monthly. You pay everything monthly (your rent, all your bills, all membership fees e.g. gym, school / university fees, health / home / car insurance, etc); and you get paid monthly (if you work here, which I don't). I know that Chile isn't the only country with this modus operandi: I believe it's the European system; and as far as I know, it's the system in various other Latin American countries too.

In Australia – and as far as I know, in most English-speaking countries – there are no set-in-stone rules about the frequency with which you pay things, or with which you get paid. Bills / fees can be weekly, monthly, quarterly, annual… whatever (although rent is generally charged and is talked about as a weekly cost). Your pay cheque can be weekly, fortnightly, monthly, quarterly… equally whatever (although we talk about "how much you earn" annually, even though hardly anyone is paid annually). I guess the "all monthly" system is more consistent, and I guess it makes it easier to calculate and compare costs. However, having grown up with the "whatever" system, "all monthly" seems strange and somewhat amusing to me.

In Chile, although payment due dates can be anytime throughout the month, almost everyone receives their salary at fin de mes (the end of the month). I believe the (rough) rule is: the dosh arrives on the actual last day of the month if it's a regular weekday; or the last regular weekday of the month, if the actual last day is a weekend or public holiday (which is quite often, since Chile has a lot of public holidays – twice as many as Australia!).

This system, combined with the last-minute / impulsive form of living here, has an effect that's amusing, frustrating, and (when you think about it) depressingly predictable. As I like to say (in jest, to the locals): in Chile, it's Christmas time every end-of-month! The shops are packed, the restaurants are overflowing, and the traffic is insane, on the last day and the subsequent few days of each month. For the rest of the month, all is quiet. Especially the week before fin de mes, which is really Struggle Street for Chileans. So extreme is this fin de mes culture, that it's even busy at the petrol stations at this time, because many wait for their pay cheque before going to fill up the tank.

This really surprised me during my first few months in Chile. I used to ask: ¿Qué pasa? ¿Hay algo important hoy? ("What's going on? Is something important happening today?"). To which locals would respond: Es fin de mes! Hoy te pagan! ("It's end-of-month! You get paid today!"). These days, I'm more-or-less getting the hang of the cycle; although I don't think I'll ever really get my head around it. I'm pretty sure that, even if we did all get paid on the same day in Australia (which we don't), we wouldn't all rush straight to the shops in a mad stampede, desperate to spend the lot. But hey, that's how life is around here.

Cuotas

Continuing with the socio-economic theme, and also continuing with the "all-monthly" theme: another Chile-ism that will never cease to amuse and amaze me, is the omnipresent cuotas ("monthly instalments"). Chile has seen a spectacular rise in the use of credit cards, over the last few decades. However, the way these credit cards work is somewhat unique, compared with the usual credit system in Australia and elsewhere.

Any time you make a credit card purchase in Chile, the cashier / shop assistant will, without fail, ask you: ¿cuántas cuotas? ("how many instalments?"). If you're using a foreign credit card, like myself, then you must always answer: sin cuotas ("no instalments"). This is because, even if you wanted to pay for your purchase in chunks over the next 3-24 months (and trust me, you don't), you can't, because this system of "choosing at point of purchase to pay in instalments" only works with local Chilean cards.

Chile's current president, the multi-millionaire Sebastian Piñera, played an important part in bringing the credit card to Chile, during his involvement with the banking industry before entering politics. He's also generally regarded as the inventor of the cuotas system. The ability to choose your monthly instalments at point of sale is now supported by all credit cards, all payment machines, all banks, and all credit-accepting retailers nationwide. The system has even spread to some of Chile's neighbours, including Argentina.

Unfortunately, although it seems like something useful for the consumer, the truth is exactly the opposite: the cuotas system and its offspring, the cuotas national psyche, has resulted in the vast majority of Chileans (particularly the less wealthy among them) being permanently and inescapably mired in debt. What's more, although some of the cuotas offered are interest-free (with the most typical being a no-interest 3-instalment plan), some plans and some cards (most notoriously the "department store bank" cards) charge exhorbitantly high interest, and are riddled with unfair and arcane terms and conditions.

Última hora

Chile's a funny place, because it's so "not Latin America" in certain aspects (e.g. much better infrastructure than most of its neighbours), and yet it's so "spot-on Latin America" in other aspects. The última hora ("last-minute") way of living definitely falls within the latter category.

In Chile, people do not make plans in advance. At least, not for anything social- or family-related. Ask someone in Chile: "what are you doing next weekend?" And their answer will probably be: "I don't know, the weekend hasn't arrived yet… we'll see!" If your friends or family want to get together with you in Chile, don't expect a phone call the week before. Expect a phone call about an hour before.

I'm not just talking about casual meet-ups, either. In Chile, expect to be invited to large birthday parties a few hours before. Expect to know what you're doing for Christmas / New Year a few hours before. And even expect to know if you're going on a trip or not, a few hours before (and if it's a multi-day trip, expect to find a place to stay when you arrive, because Chileans aren't big on making reservations).

This is in stark contrast to Australia, where most people have a calendar to organise their personal life (something extremely uncommon in Chile), and where most peoples' evenings and weekends are booked out at least a week or two in advance. Ask someone in Sydney what their schedule is for the next week. The answer will probably be: "well, I've got yoga tomorrow evening, I'm catching up with Steve for lunch on Wednesday, big party with some old friends on Friday night, beach picnic on Saturday afternoon, and a fancy dress party in the city on Saturday night." Plus, ask them what they're doing in two months' time, and they'll probably already have booked: "6 nights staying in a bungalow near Batemans Bay".

The última hora system is both refreshing and frustrating, for a planned-ahead foreigner like myself. It makes you realise just how regimented, inflexible, and lacking in spontenaeity life can be in your home country. But, then again, it also makes you tear your hair out, when people make zero effort to co-ordinate different events and to avoid clashes. Plus, it makes for many an awkward silence when the folks back home ask the question that everybody asks back home, but that nobody asks around here: "so, what are you doing next weekend?" Depends which way the wind blows.

Sit down

In Chile (and elsewhere nearby, e.g. Argentina), you do not eat or drink while standing. In most bars in Chile, everyone is sitting down. In fact, in general there is little or no "bar" area, in bars around here; it's all tables and chairs. If there are no tables or chairs left, people will go to a different bar, or wait for seats to become vacant before eating / drinking. Same applies in the home, in the park, in the garden, or elsewhere: nobody eats or drinks standing up. Not even beer. Not even nuts. Not even potato chips.

In Australia (and in most other English-speaking countries, as far as I know), most people eat and drink while standing, in a range of different contexts. If you're in a crowded bar or pub, eating / drinking / talking while standing is considered normal. Likewise for a big house party. Same deal if you're in the park and you don't want to sit on the grass. I know it's only a little thing; but it's one of those little things that you only realise is different in other cultures, after you've lived somewhere else.

It's also fairly common to see someone eating their take-away or other food while walking, in Australia. Perhaps some hot chips while ambling along the beach. Perhaps a sandwich for lunch while running (late) to a meeting. Or perhaps some lollies on the way to the bus stop. All stuff you wouldn't blink twice at back in Oz. In Chile, that is simply not done. Doesn't matter if you're in a hurry. It couldn't possibly be such a hurry, that you can't sit down to eat in a civilised fashion. The Chilean system is probably better for your digestion! And they have a point: perhaps the solution isn't to save time by eating and walking, but simply to be in less of a hurry?

Walled and shuttered

One of the most striking visual differences between the Santiago and Sydney streetscapes, in my opinion, is that walled-up and shuttered-up buildings are far more prevalent in the former than in the latter. Santiago is not a dangerous city, by Latin-American or even by most Western standards; however, it often feels much less secure than it should, particularly at night, because often all you can see around you is chains, padlocks, and sturdy grilles. Chileans tend to shut up shop Fort Knox-style.

Walk down Santiago's Ahumada shopping strip in the evening, and none of the shopfronts can be seen. No glass, no lit-up signs, no posters. Just grey steel shutters. Walk down Sydney's Pitt St in the evening, and – even though all the shops close earlier than in Santiago – it doesn't feel like a prison, it just feels like a shopping area after-hours.

In Chile, virtually all houses and apartment buildings are walled and gated. Also, particularly ugly in my opinion, schools in Chile are surrounded by high thick walls. For both houses and schools, it doesn't matter if they're upper- or lower-class, nor what part of town they're in: that's just the way they build them around here. In Australia, on the other hand, you can see most houses and gardens from the street as you go past (and walled-in houses are criticised as being owned by "paranoid people"); same with schools, which tend to be open and abundant spaces, seldom delimiting their boundary with anything more than a low mesh fence.

As I said, Santiago isn't a particularly dangerous city, although it's true that robbery is far more common here than in Sydney. The real difference, in my opinion, is that Chileans simply don't feel safe unless they're walled in and shuttered up. Plus, it's something of a vicious cycle: if everyone else in the city has a wall around their house, and you don't, then chances are that your house will be targeted, not because it's actually easier to break into than the house next door (which has a wall that can be easily jumped over anyway), but simply because it looks more exposed. Anyway, I will continue to argue to Chileans that their country (and the world in general) would be better with less walls and less barriers; and, no doubt, they will continue to stare back at me in bewilderment.

In summary

So, there you have it: a few of my random observations about life in Santiago, Chile. I hope you've found them educational and entertaining. Overall, I've enjoyed my time in this city; and while I'm sometimes critical of and poke fun at Santiago's (and Chile's) peculiarities, I'm also pretty sure I'll miss then when I'm gone. If you have any conclusions of your own regarding life in this big city, feel free to share them below.

However, I wasn't able to find any articles that specifically investigate the compatibility between the world's major religions. The areas where different religions are "on the same page", and are able to understand each other and (in the better cases) to respect each other; vs the areas where they're on a different wavelength, and where a poor capacity for dialogue is a potential cause for conflict.

I have, therefore, taken the liberty of penning such an analysis myself. What follows is a very humble list of aspects in which the world's major religions are compatible, vs aspects in which they are incompatible.

Compatible:

• Divinity (usually although not universally manifested by the concept of a G-d or G-ds; this is generally a religion's core belief)
• Sanctity (various events, objects, places, and people are considered sacred by the religion)
• Community (the religion is practiced by more than one person; the religion's members assemble in order to perform significant tasks together; the religion has the fundamental properties of a community – i.e. a start date, a founder or founders, a name / label, a size as measured by membership, etc)
• Personal communication with the divine and/or personal expression of spirituality (almost universally manifested in the acts of prayer and/or meditation)
• Stories (mythology, stories of the religion's origins / founding, parables, etc)
• Membership and initiation (i.e. a definition of "who is a member" of the religion, and defined methods of obtaining membership – e.g. by birth, by initiation ritual, by force)
• Death rites (handling of dead bodies – e.g. burial, cremation; mourning rituals; belief in / position regarding one's fate following death)
• Material expression, often (although not always) involving symbolism (e.g. characteristic clothing, music, architecture, and artwork)
• Ethical guidance (in the form of books, oral wisdom, fundamental precepts, laws, codes of conduct, etc – although it should also be noted that religion and ethics are two different concepts)
• Social guidance (marriage and family; celebration of festivities and special occasions; political views; behaviour towards various societal groups e.g. children, elders, community leaders, disadvantaged persons, members of other religions)
• Right and wrong, in terms of actions and/or thoughts (i.e. definition of "good deeds", and of "sins"; although the many connotations of sin – e.g. punishment, divine judgment, consequences in the afterlife – are not universal)
• Common purpose (although it's impossible to definitively state what religion's purpose is – e.g. religion provides hope; "religion's purpose is to provide a sense of purpose"; religion provides access to the spiritual and the divine; religion exists to facilitate love and compassion – also plenty of sceptical opinions, e.g. religion is the "opium of the masses"; religion is superstition and dogma for fools)
• Explanation of the unknown (religion provides answers where reason and science cannot – e.g. creation, afterlife)

Incompatible:

• The nature of divinity (one G-d vs many G-ds; G-d-like personification of divinity vs more abstract concept of a divine force / divine plane of existence; infinite vs constrained extent of divine power)
• Acknowledgement of other religions (not all religions even acknowledge the existence of others; of those that do, many refuse to acknowledge their validity; and of those that acknowledge validity, most consider other religions as "inferior")
• Tolerance of other religions (while some religions encourage harmony with the rest of the world, other religions promote various degrees of intolerance – e.g. holy war, forced conversion, socio-economic discrimination)
• Community structure (religious communities range from strict bureaucratic hierarchies, to unstructured liberal movements, with every possible shade of grey in between)
• What has a "soul" (all objects in the universe, from rocks upward, have a soul; vs only living organisms have a soul; vs only humans have a soul; vs there is no such thing as a soul)
• Afterlife (re-incarnation vs eternal afterlife vs soul dies with body; consequences, if any, of behaviour in life on what happens after death)
• Acceptable social norms (monogamous vs polygamous marriage; fidelity vs open relationships; punishment vs leniency towards children; types of prohibited relationships)
• Form of rules (strict laws with strict punishments; vs only general guidelines / principles)
• Ethical stances (on a broad range of issues, e.g. abortion, drug use, homosexuality, tattoos / piercings, blood transfusions, organ donation)
• Leader figure(s) (Christ vs Moses vs Mohammed vs Buddha vs saints vs pagan deities vs Confucius)
• Holy texts (Qu'ran vs Bible vs Torah vs Bhagavad Gita vs Tripitaka)
• Ritual manifestations (differences in festivals; feasting vs fasting vs dietary laws; song, dance, clothing, architecture)

Why can't we be friends?

This quick article is my take on the age-old question: if all religions are supposedly based on universal peace and love, then why have they caused more war and bloodshed than any other force in history?

My logic behind comparing religions specifically in terms of "compatibility", rather than simply in terms of "similarities and differences", is that a compatibility analysis should yield conclusions that are directly relevant to the question that we're all asking (i.e. Why can't we be friends?). Logically, if religions were all 100% compatible with each other, then they'd never have caused any conflict in all of human history. So where, then, are all those pesky incompatibilities, that have caused peace-avowing religions to time and again be at each others' throats?

The answer, I believe, is the same one that explains why Java and FORTRAN don't get along well (excuse the geek reference). They both let you write computer programs – but on very different hardware, and in very different coding styles. Or why Chopin fans and Rage Against the Machine fans aren't best friends. They both like to listen to music, but at very different decibels, and with very different amounts of tattoos and piercings applied. Or why a Gemini and a Cancer weren't meant for each other (if you happen to believe in astrology, which I don't). They're both looking for companionship in this big and lonely world, but they laugh and cry in different ways, and the fact is they'll just never agree on whether sushi should be eaten with a fork or with chopsticks.

Religions are just one more parallel. They all aim to bring purpose and hope to one's life; but they don't always quite get there, because along the way they somehow manage to get bogged down discussing on which day of the week only raspberry yoghurt should be eaten, or whether the gates of heaven are opened by a lifetime of charitable deeds or by just ringing the buzzer.

Religion is just one more example of a field where the various competing groups all essentially agree on, and work towards, the same basic purpose; but where numerous incompatibilities arise due to differences in their implementation details.

Perhaps religions could do with a few IEEE standards? Although, then again, perhaps if the world can't even agree on a globally compatible standard for something as simple as what type of electrical plug to use, I doubt there's any hope for religion.

Geeks. The socially awkward, oft-misunderstood tech wizzes that are taking over the world. And hippies. The tree-huggin', peace-n-lovin' ragtags that are trying to save the world, one spliff at a time.

I've long considered myself to be a member of both these particular minority groups, to some extent. I'm undoubtedly quite a serious case of geek; and I also possess strong hippie leanings, at the least. And I don't believe I'm alone, either. Nay — the Geekius Hippius is, in fact, a more common species than you might at first think.

I present here a light-hearted comparison of these two breeds. Needless to say, readers be warned: this article contains high level stereotyping.

Demographics

Gender balance. Geeks have long been smitten with the curse of the sausage-fest. In my undergrad IT program, there were two girls and 23 guys; this is pretty well on par, in my experience. I estimate that 90-95% male, 5-10% female, is a not uncommon gender ratio in geek circles. With hippies, on the other hand, it's all much more balanced, with my estimate being 40-50% male, 50-60% female, being a common gender ratio amongst a given group of hippies. So, yes, male geeks should consider hanging out with hippies more, as there are opportunities to meet actual real-life females.

Occupation / wealth. Geeks are typically engaged in professional full-time work; and while they're not always paid as much as they deserve (being oft exploited by less tech-savvy but more ruthless business types), they're generally comfortable, and can even expect to acquire some financial investments in life. Hippies are frequently unemployed and penniless, with many engaged in work for NGOs and other struggling outfits that can barely afford to remunerate them. Many hippies truly do possess almost no financial wealth, although there are plenty of exceptions.

Socio-economic background. A large number of geeks hail from white, middle-class homes. Asian geeks also make up a sizable contingent (with Korean StarCraft fanatics alone enjoying a massive representation); and the infamous "Russian hackers" are more than just a myth. Hippies are perhaps even more predominantly white and middle-class, despite their typical rejection of said heritage. Some upper-class folk enjoy going undercover and slumming it as hippies. Migrant groups are less likely to identify as hippies, although they have a presence in the movement too.

Habits

Fashion. The geek is easily identifiable by his/her conference t-shirt or geek humour t-shirt (or possibly a faeces-coloured formal shirt), accompanied with nondescript jeans, and a practical pair of runners. A rather oversized pair of glasses is a geek hallmark, and a tad bit of facial hair doesn't go astray either. The hippie can be spotted in his/her head-to-toe outfit of thoroughly worn-out and faded vestments, including: a festival t-shirt, stripey pants, and thongs (or he/she may simply go barefoot). On the hair and accessories front, the hippie is typically equipped with: dreads, tats, bandanas, artesanal jewellery, and hair in all parts (ladies not excluded).

Preferred hangouts. The native habitat of the geek is an air-conditioned environment, equipped with fast, reliable Internet. Common hibernation spots include libraries, office spaces, and Internet cafes. Geeks are averse to lingering in public spaces for extended periods, on account of the overwhelming presence of normal people engaged in healthy socialising. The hippie's preferred urban hangout is a dilapidated run-down venue, sporting some blaring alternate music, Che Guevara posters, and coffee tables constructed from used nappies. Hippies are also accustomed to central public spaces, on account of the demonstrations that they stage in them. Additionally, they enjoy hanging out in the bush, naked near a river, with a pleasant campfire crackling nearby.

Diet. The geek subsists on a staple diet of pizza, coke, and cheap beer. Other fast food such as Asian, Mexican, and Italian take-away is also a source of nourishment. Nevertheless, more health- or consumer-conscious geek diets do exist. The hippie diet is significantly different, in that it's… well, far more hippie. A vegetarian or even vegan regime is standard fare. The hippie is quite likely to cook most of his/her own cuisine, and will often religiously enforce a devotion to organic ingredients.

Drug use. Geeks are typically averse to most drugs, although there are exceptions. Hippies, on the other hand, are massive consumers of a plethora of drugs across the board. In particular, the concept of a non-weed-smoking hippie is virtually an oxymoron.

Interests

Musical abilities. Both geeks and hippies are often musical types. Geeks are more likely to wield an old-school instrument (e.g. piano, trumpet, violin), to possess a formal musical education, and to sport experience in choirs or ensembles. Jazz is a preferred geek genre; and synth music composition, along with DJ'ing, are all the geek rage. Hippies are more likely proponents of a percussion or woodwind instrument (e.g. bongos, didgeridoo). Possession and strumming of a guitar is considered valid ID in most hippie circles. Hippies are commonly self-taught musicians, and are very likely to participate in a small band or a musical clan.

Sport. Not the strong point of the geek, who will generally struggle to name the most popular sport of his/her country, without the aid of Wikipedia. However, geeks are often fans of recreational or adventure sport. Similarly, hippies seldom concern themselves with the sports of the Bourgeoisie "masses" (although many are at least somewhat skilled in playing them). They too enjoy recreational sport, all the more if practised in a pristine wilderness environment. Many hippies are also skilled in performance or "circus" sports, such as tightrope and juggling.

Preferred books and movies. The geek species enjoys an intimate relationship with the science fiction and fantasy genres. A geek lacking at least a rudimentary mastery of Jedi mind control, Sindarin Elvish, or Klingon, is at risk of banishment from geekdom. The hippie is fond of such revered authors as Karl Marx and Mahatma Gandhi, and enjoys the (free) screening of documentaries (preferably leftist opinionated ones). The hippie also commonly nurtures an affection for the science fiction and fantasy genres.

World views

Political views. The geek is a left-leaning creature, but is also sceptical of the extreme left (as he/she is of most anything). The geek is an environmentally conscious being, but is generally reluctant to support socialist and other movements. To call the hippie a left-leaning creature is an understatement at best. The hippie is a creature of causes, diving head-first into socialism, along with feminist / gay / indigenous / migrant advocacy groups. The hippie can be relied on to provide a highly opinionated, and reasonably well-educated, opinion on most any sphere of world affairs.

Religious views. Most geeks are quite conservative on this front, sticking to old-school religions such as Christianity, Judaism, and Islam; although few geeks are strongly religious. Atheist geeks are not uncommon either. Hippies almost unanimously share a vehement rejection of traditional religion. Many alternatives appeal to them, including Eastern religion, Paganism, mysticism, meditation and Yoga. Many hippies are also vocal atheists or nihilists.

Images in collage courtesy of:

• Elance Freelance Web Geeks
• Glogster geek poster
• Crossbones pirate swords design

I spent a bit of time recently, hunting for sets of data that could answer these questions in an expansive and meaningful way. And I'm optimistic that what I've come up with satisfies both of those things: in terms of expansive, I've got stats (admittedly of varying quality) for most of the film-watching world; and in terms of meaningful, I'm using box office admission numbers, which I believe are the most reliable international measure of film popularity.

So, without further ado, here are the stats that I've come up with:

Note: this table lists all countries with annual box office admissions of more than 20 million tickets sold. The countries are listed in descending order of number of box office admissions. The primary source for the data in this table (and for this article in general), is the 2010 edition of the FOCUS: World Film Market Trends report, published by the European Audiovisual Observatory.

The Mighty Hollywood

Before I comment on anything else, I must make the point loudly and clearly: Hollywood is still the most significant cinema force in the world, as it has consistently been since the dawn of movie-making over a century ago. There can be no denying that. By every worldwide cinema-going measure, movies from the United States are still No. 1: quantity of box office tickets sold; gross box office profit; and extent of geopolitical box office distribution.

The main purpose of this article, is to present the cinema movements around the world that are competing with Hollywood, and to demonstrate that some of those movements are significant potential competition for Hollywood. I may, at times in this article, tend to exaggerate the capacity of these regional players. If I do, then please forgive me, and please just remind yourself of the cold, harsh reality, that when Hollywood farts, the world takes more notice than when Hollywood's contenders discover life on Mars.

Seriously, Hollywood is mighty

Having made my above point, let's now move on, and have a look at the actual stats that show just how frikkin' invincible the USA's film industry is today:

• The global distribution of US movies is massive: of the 31 countries listed in the table above, 24 see more than 50% of their box office admissions being for US movies.
• The US domestic cinema industry is easily the most profitable in the world, raking in more than US$9 billion annually; and also the most extensive in the world, with almost 40,000 cinema screens across the country (2009 stats).
• The US film industry is easily the most profitable in the world: of the 20 top films worldwide by gross box office, all of them are at least partly Hollywood-produced; and of those, 13 are 100% Hollywood-produced.

Cinéma Européen

In terms of global distribution, and hence also in terms of global social and cultural impact, European movies quite clearly take the lead, after Hollywood (of course). That's why, in the table above, the only two film industries whose per-country global box office admissions I've listed, are those of the United States and of the European Union. The global distribution power of all the other film industries is, compared to these two heavyweights, negligible.

Within the EU, by far the biggest film producer — and the most successful film distributor — is France. This is nothing new: indeed, the world's first commercial public film screening was held in Paris, in 1895, beating New York's début by a full year. Other big players are Germany, Spain, Italy, and the UK. While the majority of Joe Shmoe cinema-goers worldwide have always craved the sex, guns and rock 'n' roll of Hollywood blockbusters, there have also always been those who prefer a more cultured, refined and sophisticated cinema experience. Hence, European cinema is — while not the behemoth that is Hollywood — strong as ever.

France is the only country in Europe — or the world — where European films represent the majority of box office admissions; and even in France, they just scrape over the 50% mark, virtually tied with Hollywood admissions. In the other European countries listed in the table above (UK, Germany, Italy, Spain, Poland, Netherlands, and Belgium), EU admissions make up around 30-35% of the market, with American films taking 60-75% of the remaining share. In the rest of the world, EU admissions don't make it far over the 10% mark; although their share remains significant worldwide, with 24 of the 31 countries in the table above having 3% or more EU admissions.

Oh My Bollywood!

You may have noticed that in the table, the US is not first in the list. That's because the world's largest cinema-going market (in terms of ticket numbers, not gross profit) is not the US. It's India. Over the past several decades, Bollywood has risen substantially, to become the second-most important film industry in the world (i.e. it's arguably more important than the European industry).

India has over 1.2 billion people, giving it the second-largest population in the world (after China). However, Indians love cinema much more than the Chinese do. India has for quite some time been the world's No. 1 producer of feature films. And with 2.9 billion box office admissions annually, the raw cinema-going numbers for India are more than double those of the US, which follows second worldwide.

Apart from being No. 1 in domestic box office admissions, India also has the highest percentage of admissions for local films, and the lowest percentage of admissions for US films, in the world. That means that when Indians go to the cinema, they watch more local movies, and less American movies, than any other people in the world (exactly what the social and cultural implications of that are, I leave for another discussion — perhaps better analysed in a PhD thesis than in a blog post!). That also gives Bollywood the No. 2 spot for international box office admissions.

However, massive as Bollywood's presence and its influence is domestically within India (and in the rest of South Asia), its global reach is pretty slim. Bollywood's No. 2 spot for international box office admissions, stems 99% from its domestic admissions. The vast majority of Bollywood movies are never even shipped outside of the region, let alone screened in cinemas. A significant number are also filmed in the Hindi language, and are never dubbed or subtitled in English (or any other languages), due to lack of an international market.

There are some exceptions. For example, a number of Bollywood films are distributed and screened in cinemas in the UK, targeting the large Indian community there (the number of films is relatively small compared to the size of the Bollywood industry, but it's a significant number within the UK cinema market). However, despite its growing international fame, Bollywood remains essentially a domestic affair.

The rest of the world has yet to truly embrace the lavish psychedelic costumes; the maximum interval of six minutes between twenty-minute-long, spontaneous, hip-swinging, sari-swirling song-and-dance routines; or the idea that the plot of every movie should involve a poor guy falling in love with a rich girl whose parents refuse for them to marry (oh, and of course there must also be a wedding, and it must be the most important and extravagent scene of the movie). Bollywood — what's not to love?

Nollywood, anyone?

We're all familiar with Bollywood… but have you heard of Nollywood? It's the film industry of Nigeria. And, in case you didn't know, in the past decade or so Nollywood has exploded from quite humble beginnings, into a movement of epic proportions and of astounding success. In 2009, Nollywood rose up to become the No. 2 producer of feature films in the world (second only to the Indian industry, and pushing Hollywood down to third place).

However, you may have noticed that Nigeria isn't in the table above at all. That's because cinema screens in Nigeria are few and far between, and almost all Nollywood films are released straight to home media (formerly VHS, these days DVD). So, Nollywood is an exceptional case study here, because the focus of this article is to measure the success of film industries by box office admissions; and yet Nollywood, which has rapidly become one of the most successful film industries in the world, lacks almost any box office admissions whatsoever.

There are few hard statistics available for distribution of films within Nigeria (or in most of the rest of Africa), in terms of box office admissions, DVD sales (with almost all being sold in ramshackle markets, and with many being pirated copies), or anything else. However, the talk of the town is that the majority of movies watched in Nigeria, and in many other countries in Africa, are local Nollywood flicks. In Nigeria itself, the proportion of local-vs-Hollywood film-watching may even be reaching Indian levels, i.e. more than 90% of viewings being of local films — although it's impossible to give any exact figures.

Nollywood's distribution reach is pretty well limited to domestic Nigeria, and the surrounding African regions. Bollywood boasts a significantly greater international distribution… and Bollywood's reach ain't amazing, either. The low-budget production and straight-to-disc distribution strategies of Nollywood have proved incredibly successful locally. However, this means that most Nollywood movies aren't even suitable for cinema projection without serious editing (in terms of technology and cinematography), and this has probably been a factor in limiting Nollywood's growth in other markets, where traditional box office distribution is critical to success.

East Asian cinema

The film industries of the Orient have always been big. In particular, the industries of China and Japan, respectively, are each only slightly behind Hollywood in number of feature films produced annually (and Korea is about on par with Italy). Many East Asian film industries enjoy considerable local success, as evidenced in the table above, where several Asian countries are listed as having a significant percentage of local box office admissions (in China, Japan and Korea, local films sweep away 50% or more of the box office admissions).

Much like Bollywood, the film industries of many East Asian countries have often fallen victim to cliché and "genre overdose". In China and Hong Kong, the genre of choice has long been martial arts, with Kung Fu movies being particularly popular. In Japan and Korea, the most famous genre traditionally has been horror, and in more recent decades (particularly in Japan), the anime genre has enjoyed colossal success.

East Asian film is arguably the dominant cultural film force within the region (i.e. dominant over Hollywood). It's also had a considerable influence on the filmmaking tradition of Hollywood, with legends such as Japan's Akira Kurosawa being cited by numerous veteran Hollywood directors, such as Martin Scorsese.

However, well-established though it is, the international distribution of East Asian films has always been fairly limited. Some exceptional films have become international blockbusters, such as the (mainly) Chinese-made Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000). Japanese horror and anime films are distributed worldwide, but they have a cult following rather than a mainstream appreciation in Western countries. When most Westerners think of "Asian" movies, they most likely think of Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee, the majority of whose films were Hollywood productions. Additionally, the international distribution of movies from other strong East Asian film industries, such as those of Thailand and Taiwan, is almost non-existent.

Middle Eastern cinema

The most significant player in Middle Eastern cinema is Egypt, which has a long and glorious film-making tradition. The Egyptian film industry accounts for a whopping 80% of Egypt's domestic box office admissions; and, even more importantly, Egyptian films are exported to the rest of the Arabic-speaking world (i.e. to much of the rest of the Middle East), and (to some extent) to the rest of the Muslim world.

Turkey is also a cinema powerhouse within the Middle East. Turkey's film industry boasts 51% of the local box office admissions, and Turkey as a whole is the largest cinema-going market in the region. The international distribution of Turkish films is, however, somewhat more limited, due to the limited appeal of Turkish-language cinema in other countries.

Although it's not in the table above, and although limited data is available for it, Iran is the other great cinema capital of the region. Iran boasted a particularly strong film industry many decades ago, before the Islamic Revolution of 1979; nevertheless, the industry is still believed to afford significant local market share today.

Also of note is Israel, which is the most profitable cinema-going market in the region after Turkey, and which supports a surprisingly productive and successful film industry (with limited but far-reaching international distribution), given the country's small population.

Other players worldwide

• Russia & CIS. Although US box office admissions dominate these days, the Russian film industry wins almost 25% of admissions. This is very different to the Soviet days, when foreign films were banned, and only state-approved (and highly censored) films were screened in cinemas. Russian movies are mainly distributed within the former Soviet Union region, although a small number are exported to other markets.
• Latin America. The largest markets for box office admissions in the region are Mexico, Brazil, and Argentina. Admissions in all of Latin America are majority Hollywood; however, in these "big three", local industries are also still quite strong (particularly in Brazil and Argentina, each with about 15% local admissions; about half that number in more US-dominated Mexico). Local industries aren't as strong as they used to be, but they're still most definitely alive. Latin American films are distributed and screened worldwide, although their reception is limited. There have been some big hits, though, in the past decade: Mexico's Amores Perros (2000); Argentina's Nueve Reinas (2000); and Brazil's Cidade de Deus (2002).
• South Africa. Despite having a fairly large box office admission tally, there's not a whole lot of data available for local market share in the South African film industry. Nevertheless, it is a long-established film-making country, and it continues to produce a reasonable number of well-received local films every year. South Africa distributes films internationally, although generally not with blockbuster success — but there have been exceptions, e.g. Tsotsi (2005).

In summary

If you've made it this far, you must be keen! (And this article must be at least somewhat interesting). Sorry, this has turned out to be a bit longer than average for a thought article; but hey, turns out there are quite a lot of strong film industries around the world, and I didn't want to miss any important ones.

So, yes, Hollywood's reach is still universal, and its influence not in any way or in any place small. But no, Hollywood is not the only force in this world that is having a significant cultural effect, via the medium of the motion picture. There are numerous other film industries today, that are strong, and vibrant, and big. Some of them have been around for a long time, and perhaps they just never popped up on the ol' radar before (e.g. Egypt). Others are brand-new and are taking the world by storm (e.g. Nollywood).

Hollywood claims the majority of film viewings in many countries around the world, but not everywhere. Particularly, on the Indian Subcontinent (South Asia), in the Far East (China, Japan, Korea), and in much of the Middle East (Egypt, Turkey, Iran), the local film industries manage to dominate over Hollywood in this regard. Considering that those regions are some of the most populous in the world, Hollywood's influence may be significantly less than many people like to claim.

But, then again, remember what I said earlier: Hollywood farts, whole world takes notice; film-makers elsewhere discover life on Mars, doesn't even make the back page.

Additional references

• Top Ten Feature Film Production Map
• Are foreign language films becoming more popular?
• Yearly Box Office Index (2008)
• 2008 World Cinema Stats
• Number of Cinema Admissions by Country

However, one of my best friends recently died from a drug overdose. On account of that, I feel compelled to pen a short article, describing what I believe are some good reasons to choose to not take drugs.

1. They harm you

It's no secret that narcotic substances cause physical and mental damage to those who use them. Recreational users are often quick to deny the risks, but ultimately there's no hiding from the truth.

The list of physical problems that can directly arise from drug use is colossal: heart attack; stroke; liver failure; diabetes; asthma; eye deterioration; and sexual impotence, to name a few common ones. In the case of injected drugs, the risk of HIV / AIDS from infected needles is, of course, also a major risk.

Physical damage is, however, generally nothing compared to the long-term mental damage caused by narcotics: anxiety; hallucination; schizophrenia; and profound depression, to name but a few. Perhaps the worst mental damage of all, though, is the chemical addiction that results from the use of most narcotics.

Narcotic substances can, and often do, radically change someone's personality. They result in the user transforming into a different person, and this seldom means transforming for the better. The worst harm they do, is that they rob you of who you once were, with little hope of return. Couple this with the problem of addiction, and the only way forward for many drug users is downhill.

2. They're expensive

This is in one respect the most trivial reason to not take drugs, and in another respect a very serious concern. Anyway, the fact is that at their Western "street prices", drugs are no cheap hobby. For some people (unfortunately not for everyone), the fact that drugs are clearly a ripoff and an utter waste of money, is enough to act as a deterrant.

At the trivial end of things, the fact that recreational drug use is expensive isn't by itself a concern. All hobbies cost something. You could easily pay more for a golf club membership, or for an upmarket retail therapy spree, or for a tropical paradise vacationing habit. If your income can support your leisure, then hey, you might as well enjoy life.

However, as mentioned above, drugs are addictive. As such, a mounting drug addiction inevitably leads to an exponential increase in the cost of maintaining the habit. No matter how much money you have, eventually a drug addiction will consume all of it, and it will leave you so desperate for more, that no avenue to cash will be below you.

Drug users that begin "recreationally", all too often end up stealing, cheating and lying, just to scrounge up enough cash for the next fix. As such, it's not the price itself of drugs, but rather the depths to which addicts are prepared to plunge in order to pay for them, that is the real problem.

3. They're illegal

Whether you have much respect for the law or not, the fact is that narcotics are illegal in every corner of the world, and by consuming them you are breaking the law. If you don't respect the law, you should at least bear in mind that possession of narcotics carries serious criminal penalties in most countries, ranging from a small monetary fine, to the extreme sentence of capital punishment.

There's also a lot more to the illegality of drugs than the final act of the consumer, in purchasing and using them. By consuming drugs, you are supporting and contributing to the largest form of organised crime in the world. Drug users are in effect giving their endorsement to the entire illegal chain that constitutes the global narcotic enterprise, from cultivation and processing, to trafficking, to dealing on the street.

The mafia groups responsible for the global drug business, also routinely commit other crimes, most notably homicide, kidnapping, torture, extortion, embezzlement, and bribery. These other crimes exist in synergy with the drug enterprise: one criminal activity supports the others, and vice versa. Whether or not you believe drug use should be a crime, the fact is that drug use indirectly results in many other activities, of whose criminal nature there can be no doubt.

4. They harm communities and environments

Related to (although separate from) the illegality issue above, there is also a bigger picture regarding the harm that's caused by drug use. Many hobbies have some negative impact on the wider world. Hunting whales endangers a species; buying Nike shoes promotes child labour; flying to Hawaii produces carbon emissions. However, the wider harm caused by drug use, compared to other more benign hobbies, is very great indeed.

Most narcotics are grown and produced in third world countries. The farmers and labourers who produce them, at the "bottom of the chain", do so often under threat of death, often for little monetary gain, and often at risk of pursuit by authorities. Meanwhile, the drug barons at the "top of the chain" routinely bribe authorities, extort those below them, and reap enormous profit from all involved.

In many drug-producing countries, wilderness areas such as rainforests are destroyed in order to cultivate more illegal crops. Thus, narcotics are responsible for environmental problems such as deforestation, and often with subsequent side-effects of deforestation such as soil erosion, salinity, and species extinction.

The drug industry routinely attracts poor and uneducated people who are desperate for work opportunities. However, it ultimately provides these people with little monetary gain and no economic security. Additionally, youths in impoverished areas are enticed to take up a criminal life as traffickers, dealers, and middlemen, leaving them and their families with a poor reputation and with many serious risks.

5. They harm friends and family

For anyone who cares about their friends and family — and everyone should, they're the most important thing in all our lives — the negative impact of drug use on loved ones, is possibly the worst of all the ways in which drugs cause harm.

Friends and family have to bear the pain of seeing a drug user suffer and degenerate from the effects of prolonged use. It is also they who end up caring for the drug user, which is a task possibly even more difficult than the care of a seriously ill friend or relative usually is.

Worst of all, drugs can lead people to steal from, lie to, verbally abuse, and even physically attack friends and family. Then there is the ultimate woe: the pain of drug abuse claiming the life of a close friend or relative. The harm to a drug user ends at the final hour; but for friends and family, the suffering and grief continue for many long years.

Final thoughts

As I said, I'm not a drug user myself. I've only taken illicit drugs once in my life (hallucinogens), several years ago. I admit, it was a very fun experience. However, in retrospect, taking the drugs was also clearly a stupid decision. At the time, I was not thinking about any of the things that I've discussed in this article.

I regret very few things in my life, but I regret the choice that I made that day. I feel fortunate that the drugs left me with no addiction and with no long-term harm, and I have no intention whatsoever of taking drugs again in my life.

Yes, drugs are fun. But the consequences of taking them are not. As discussed here, the consequences are dead serious and they are quite real. I remain a libertarian, as far as drugs go — if you want to consume them, I see no reason to stop you. But seriously, think twice before deciding to take that route.

After visiting the hellish mines of Potosí in Bolivia, I disagree with the "better than no job at all" argument more strongly than ever. I'm now 100% convinced that it's better for jobs as atrocious as this to disappear from the face of the Earth; and that it's better for those affected to become unemployed and to face economic hardship in the short-term, while eventually finding newer and better jobs; than to continue in their doomed and unpleasant occupations forever.

As far as I've been able to tell so far, most people in this world seem to believe that it's better for really unpleasant jobs to exist, than for all the people performing them to be unemployed. In fact, more than anyone else, the majority of people performing these jobs believe this (apparently) logical rhetoric. Most people believe it, because it is very simple, and on the surface it does make sense. Yes, a lot of people have jobs that are barely fit for humans to perform. Yes, it affects their health and the health of their children. Yes, they get paid peanuts for it, and they're being exploited. But then again, they have little or no education, and there are almost no other jobs available in their area. And it's all they know. Isn't it better that they're at least able to put food on the table, and to feed their family, than that they're able to do nothing at all?

But the thing is, if there's one thing that the past 200 years of industrial progress have shown us, it's that replacing manual-labour human-performed jobs with machines does not destroy employment opportunities. Quite the opposite, in fact. Sure, it makes a lot of people unemployed and angry in the short-term. But in the long-term, it creates a lot of newer and much better jobs. Jobs that foster education, good working conditions, and higher levels of skill and innovation. Jobs that are not ridiculously dangerous and unpleasant. Jobs that are fit for intelligent, capable 21^st-century human beings to get involved in.

Take the textile industry, for example. Originally, all clothing was made by hand, by artisans such as weavers, sewing people, and knitters. These days, much of the time those jobs are performed by machines, and the human occupations that used to exist for them are largely obsolete. However, there are now new jobs. There are people who perform maintenance work on the weaving machines, and on the sewing machines. There are people who design new ways of making the weaving machines and the sewing machines work better. There are people who consult with the public, on what they'd like to see done better in the textile industry, and on what they'd be willing to pay more for if it was done to a higher calibre. There are an endless number of newer and better jobs, that have sprung up as a result of the lower jobs changing from human labour to automated mechanisation.

And the other economic issue that the Potosí experience has brought to my attention, is that of small ventures vs. big companies. Now, this is another one where a lot of people are not going to be on my side. The classic argument is that it's a real shame that the single-man or the family-run business is being swallowed up, by the beast that is the multi-national corporation. In the old days, people say, a man was able to earn an honest living; and he was able to really create an enterprise of his own, and to reap the rewards of working for himself. These days, everyone has sold their soul to big corporations; and the corporation owns everything, while exploiting the people at the bottom, and only giving each of them the measliest pittance of a salary that it can get away with.

For some industries, I agree that this really is a shame. For many of the industries that humans can, and have, performed better and more skilfully in small-group enterprises for thousands of years — such as medicine, sport, literature, and most especially music — the big corporation has definitely done more harm than good. But for the industries that are built on mechanisation, and that require large amounts of investment and organisation — such as transportation, modern agriculture, and mining — I've now seen it being done with the big corporation (in Western countries, such as Australia), and without the big corporation (in third-world countries, such as Bolivia). And it's clear that the big corporation is actually needed, if the operation is to be carried out with any degree of planning, safety, or efficiency.

The sad fact is that big ventures require big organisations behind them. Mining is a big venture: it involves huge amounts of raw material, machinery, personnel, transportation, land, and money. It is, by its very nature, an unsustainable and an environmentally destructive venture, and as such is is "bad": but it is also necessary, in order for the products and the goods of our modern world to be produced; and as such, I'm sorry to say that it's not going away any time soon. And so, bearing that in mind, I'd rather see mining done "right" — by big corporations, that know what they're doing — than done "wrong", by 400 co-operatives that squabble and compete, and that get very little done, while also doing nothing to improve the lives or the jobs of their people.

This is why I now look at "doomed jobs" and "doomed little-man ventures" in many industries, and instead of feeling sorry for their inevitable demise and hardship, I instead believe that their doom is ultimately for the best. In due course, all those unemployed labourers will, inevitably, move up in the world, and will be able to contribute to humanity in bigger and more meaningful ways, while having a more pleasant and a more fulfilling life. And, in due course, the corporate-run ventures will actually be more organised and more beneficial for everyone, than a gaggle of individually-run ventures could ever possibly be.

Of course, the forced change of occupation will be rejected by some; it will be unattainable for others; and it will come at a high cost for all. And naturally, the corporations will cut corners and will exploit the people at the bottom, unless (and, in many cases, even when) subject to the most rigorous of government regulations and union pressures. But ultimately, for modern and industrialised fields of work, it's the only way.

Because of all this, I look forward to the day when the mountain of Cerro Rico in Bolivia comes crashing down, and when the miners of Potosí (most of whom hopefully will not get killed by the mountain collapsing) are left wondering what the hell to do with their lives. The day that this happens, will be the day that those people stop spending their lives doing work that's barely fit for cattle, and start finding other jobs, that are more appropriate for adult human beings with a brain and a decent amount of common sense.

Lately, her choice of vernacular expression has taken an interesting route. And no, it's not the scenic route, either: it's the I-ain-stuffin-around freeway express route. She no longer wants things; she needs them. Mummy, I neeed some biscuits, and I neeed to go on the swing. I guess it's the logical choice of words to use, from her point of view: she's worked out that a need is stronger and more urgent than a want; so clearly, using the word 'need' is a more effective way of getting what you 'want'. Of course, she doesn't yet understand the concept of reserving the use of strong language for when it really is 'needed' (no pun intended). In fact, even some adults don't understand this concept.

We humans are naturally selfish creatures. This selfishness is most evident in children, who are completely uninhibited in expressing their every desire. But really, most adults retain this selfishness for their entire lives; the difference is only that they learn to conceal it, to mask it, and to express it more subtly. In many cases, the only things that really change are the desires themselves: the colourful, innocent little desires of childhood are replaced by bigger and less virtuous ones, such as ego, money, and sex.

But actually, there's more to it than this. Perhaps it's just me, but I think that the very nature of our desires changes over time. As children, we are obsessed with owning or possessing things: our entire lives revolve around having toys, having food, having entertainment. But as we get older, we seem to become less concerned with having things, and more concerned with doing things. We're still very much acting selfishly, but our goals and aspirations change dramatically. And in a way, that's what makes all the difference.

I've noticed this change in myself, and in many of the close friends that I've grown up with. When I was a wee lad, for example, I was extremely fond of Lego™. Barely a waking moment went by in which I wasn't salivating over the next Lego model on my wish-list, or plotting up cunning ways by which I could obtain more of the stuff. Many other toys and gizmos filled my heart with longing throughout my childhood: TV shows, magic cards, and console / computer games, to name a few. For many years, these were the things that made life worth living for. Without them, the world was an empty void.

But as I've grown older and hoarier (although not that hoary), these possessions have begun to seem much less important. Where has it gone, all that desire to accumulate things? It seems to have been extinguished. In its place is a new desire, far more potent than its predecessor ever was: a desire to do things. To see the world. To share my knowledge. To build useful tools. To help out.

I see the same changes in many of my peers. All of the things that they once considered to be of prime importance - the rock-star posters, the model aeroplane collections, the signed baseball caps - it seems that all of a sudden, nobody has time for them anymore. Everybody is too busy doing things: earning a university degree; gaining work experience; volunteering in their spare time. Even socialising seems to have subtly changed: from having friends, to being friends (a small but fundamental change in perception).

Now, while I am arguing that we humans have a greater desire to do positive acts as we enter adulthood, I am not arguing that this desire stems from any noble or benevolent motive. On the contrary, the motive generally remains the same as ever: self-benefit. There are many personal rewards to be found from doing things that make a difference: ego boost, political power, popularity, and money are some of the more common ones. Nevertheless, motives aside, the fact that we have this desire, and that we act on it, is surely a good thing, in and of itself.

This shift in our underlying desires strikes me as a fascinating change, and also as one of the key transitions between childhood and adulthood. Of course, I could be wrong, it could be just me - perhaps everyone else was born wanting to make a difference by doing, and it's just me that was the spoilt, selfish little kid who always wanted more toys to play with. If that's the case, then I can live with that. But until I'm proven wrong, I think I'll stick with my little theory.