Sir Walter Murdoch Memorial Lecture (1987) Here Come the Yuppies: the Greedy Society Or the Intelligent Society Lecture Delivered By: Robyn Williams

Sir Walter Murdoch Memorial Lecture (1987) Here come the Yuppies: The Greedy Society or the Intelligent Society Lecture delivered by: Robyn Williams

In February 1972 a shabbily-dressed young man strode up William Street in Sydney. He was unemployed and had no special qualifications that would make a "wise career move" likely or straightforward. Only a science degree, a rather wide and eclectic reading, experience of some thirty countries, and the dubious distinction of having appeared on television with Tom Jones, Terry Thomas, Engelbert Humperdink, John Cleese and Dr. Who.

That morning he'd been interviewed by the headmaster of a girl's school, who'd been encouraging to an alarming extent. The position was to teach the young Catholic virgins of the western suburbs both mathematics and geography. Being almost entirely innocent of Australian geography and not having studied mathematics for 12 years appeared to be no impediment. The headmaster, a handsome man in his early forties and dressed in a long white habit, smiled tolerantly and said, "No, that will be all right, but please do not go to the pub at lunchtime."

In 1972 Australia had basked in the glory of one of the most exciting booms in mining shares in history. For months, Poseidon had been the stock to buy: all over the world we marvelled at the soaring price of its issue. In 1972, William McMahon was Prime Minister. His austere Minister for Science and Education was called Malcolm Fraser. Joh Bjelke Petersen was already an experienced Premier of Queensland and in Victoria, Sir Henry Bolte seemed set for another hundred years.

On the wireless we heard "The Hospital Hour", "Blue Hills", "Scope", "The Wilfred Thomas Show" and at 1240 on Saturday on what we now call Radio National, someone steadfastly read the river heights for five minutes (even if there was only 2 minutes worth to say) and then played scratched LP's (usually Brahms or Gluck) for the next three- quarters of an hour. On TV, "Monday Conference" had started, excitingly, and "TDT" was being cheeky and controversial. The ABC employed people called Willissee and Bill

Peach and Ray Martin and Huw Evans and the boss was someone called Talbot Duckmanton who'd been there since the First Fleet.

We were still in Vietnam, Margaret Thatcher was Minister for Education and Science in the Heath Government in Great Britain and Richard Nixon was quietly cruising to an automatic victory in the Presidential Election. Watergate was simply the name of a large hotel in Washington at that stage.

In 1972 there were still two Apollo moon shots to go: 16 and 17. Another four men would walk on the moon, making a total of 12 since July 1969. They would send back live pictures and radio for the ever decreasing world audience. Apollo by then, was to become as commonplace to some as the Shuttle would be in the 1980's.

Anyway, the young man continued his walk up William Street, not nervously, but dreading the prospect of his only option so far: teaching maps and maths to the papist burgers of Bankstown. He entered a building with a car showroom on its ground floor and climbed four stories (typically eschewing the lift, which also appeared to date from the First Fleet) and asked for Dr. Peter Pockley. Now, Dr. Pockley, once head-boy of Geelong Grammar, then after the University of Melbourne, recipient of a doctorate from Oxford, Dr. Pockley had been director of the ABC Science Unit since he set it up back in 1964. He welcomed the young man, myself, with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The surprise was in response to meeting someone so limited in qualifications for broadcasting. Then, as with the BBC, as I knew, the minimum qualification for a novice was ten years' experience. His curiosity was no doubt connected to a desire to inspect the source of this impertinence.

In 1972 the output of the ABC Science Unit was "INNOVATIONS" a 15 minute radio program presented by Glen Menzies; "INSIGHT", another 15 minute piece featuring one scientist; and the "WORLD TOMORROW", presented by the late Mike Daley. An occasional documentary series was also produced and called "HERITAGE". Now, it so happened, that the producer of "HERITAGE", one Max Bourke, had left the ABC the week before. He's now, Director of the Australia Council. Another Unit member, one Robin Hughes, had decided to move to TV to a program called "Chequerboard". She, as it happens, is now head of Film Australia. As a result, there were empty desks. I was hired as a journeyman, to fill them.

The first thing that surprised ME about the ABC was the length of the lunch hour. It was so extensive, and the arrival of pub time in the afternoon SO precipitate, that I once ungraciously took down the office sign on the door and put up ABC LUNCH UNIT instead.

However, a major project soon disrupted the languor. The last Apollo missions were to be covered, done live as a service by the Unit, interrupting other programs as events dictated. Peter Pockley was dauntingly energetic. He seemed to have considerable military ancestry, for he produced campaign charts worthy of Mountbatten, cross-checking worthy of Montgomery, and attention to technology worthy of Rommel. This did not impress the ABC one little bit. They ignored all requests from the hyperactive Director of Science.. until it was more convenient to give him some small fraction of his demands, just to shut him up. So we 'talked-back' to the public (for the first time on ABC radio) using a field telephone pinched I'd hazard, from the local barracks. We organised the VOICE of Apollo live from the moon, took over the network studio, and broadcast by the seats of our still scruffy pants.

And I loved it. Whatever my reservations about the merits of moonshots or military significance of their infrastructure, there was nothing like being on air as we all waited, across planet earth, in nations united by this common experience, for two fellow human beings to land on the surface of another celestial object; even more, to take off safely. Nothing could replace that staggering picture of the earth, blue and vulnerable in a pitch- black sky, as it was seen from the moon itself. On that picture, the only discernable living thing to be seen from such a distance, the Great Barrier Reef stretched alongside the southern island continent.

Another remarkable event of 1972 was to be the United Nations Conference on the Environment, held in Stockholm. That, combined with the picture of space-ship earth taken by the astronauts, would launch the conservationist movement on a path from which it would never look back.

I was also taken aback by the popularity of our broadcasts on science, including the Apollo ones. So I stayed in the Science Unit. They found it hard to believe that I worked all those hours I recorded on my timesheet and docked me accordingly; but I shelved plans to return to England and settled in to enjoy an extraordinarily exciting period ON AIR and IN SCIENCE.

The best reason to stick to Australia, it seemed to me, was that they were prepared to take on board new ways of doing things. You could not use the old joke I've since learned from Canada: "Why did the Canadian cross the road? A. To get to the middle." In Australia you aimed to go the whole way. Trouble is, as I've found since, that if the trip turns out to be

unexpectedly hazardous, Australians will all too often give up entirely and run back to the place they started.

So the penalty for a hopeful, energetic beginning is a sudden loss of confidence, often followed by a sudden death.

Nonetheless, with the help of some brilliant colleagues, many of whom are still there, I was able to take part in several experimental, even outrageous programs, which, in their way, helped change broadcasting history in Australia. In 1973, there was "LATELINE", plugging us in, via satellite, for three quarters of an hour, to any world-figure we could get near a studio. Chomsky, R.D. Laing, Roy Jenkins, V.S. Naipaul, E.F. Schumacher..... they all eventually agreed and faced their cheeky, but well-read interviewers in Australia, and went to air. The Australian Broadcasting Commission was talked about from Harvard to the London School of Economics, from Dehli to Rome.

In 1974 there was "INVESTIGATIONS", in which we had not only 'live' studio guests in Sydney, but famous folk in their various time-zones at the end of international links, PLUS 'phone-ins' (using that same field telephone), plus tapes. The programs went for three hours and increased the rating of the Wednesday timeslot by five times. We did six heroic "INVESTIGATIONS", of which the second, which happened to be called "THE MEDIA GAME", turned into the worst radio disaster I've ever experienced. Our guests in Sydney included Peter Manning now E.P. of "Four Corners", Adrian Deamer, first editor of "The Australian" newspaper, now legal consultant to Fairfax, Paddy McGuiness, then and now of the "Financial Review", Kerry Packer, Liz Fell.... in Melbourne, 'live', the late Graham Perkin editor of "The Age" newspaper, in London, Harold Evans, then editor of the "Sunday Times", soon to be editor of "THE TIMES" itself.....

I faced this line-up with experience of only ONE program as a 'live' presenter, and with no formal training whatsoever. I was assured that, on a signal from me, all present would attack Kerry Packer, and all I'd have to do was interrupt now and then as a restrained but civilized mediator. No one had warned me of the quiet time needed before you present such a mammoth broadcast, instead, I was running to the pub to fetch scotch for the distinguished company who wanted more than the little wine we'd thought of. I wrote what script I had in the five minutes before going to air. Once underway, it was clear that more than one guest had become, as it's put in the trade "tired and emotional" and, far from attacking Kerry Packer, they turned to attack ME as representative of that snooty A.B.C. which dared criticise the commercial media. Paddy McGuiness, then still perhaps able to recall his origins with Germaine Greer and Clive James in the Sydney 'PUSH' with its sort

of-anarchist traditions, Paddy took to opening beer cans as explosively and as close to the microphone, as he could manage.

The resulting shambles was appalling beyond belief. I never really recovered and have learned to trust no one ever since. It gave me lots to think about and made a learning curve, as they say, that was that week, quite vertical. But the very ODD thing was: we were not taken off. Talbot Duckmanton even sent a note of congratulation. We assumed he'd got the starting date wrong, hadn't heard the disastrous edition, but meant it for the launch. Then a nice man from management gave me a pep-talk.... and on we went. To some glory.

In August 1975 we launched the "Science Show", then "Science Bookshop", then various programs on industrial health and technology, social sciences, then the other ones we have now: "Ockham's Razor", "The Health Report", "Earthworm" and occasional ventures like the "Uncertainty Principle".

And the incredible thing about them all is that they invariably gain the biggest audiences of their respective days on Radio National. We have very, VERY big audiences. For Science Programs! In Australia! For years now.' Another incredible thing, something I enjoyed which is in rare supply now, was a willingness to let a young outfit grow, mature, make mistakes without being shot for them. For that period we really were allowed to do some very naughty wireless programs, ones which make me flinch now as I think back, but NEVER did we really face that endemic Australian disease: terminal panic.

As a result I think we built a Science Unit that's as strong, self-assured and with as many first-rate contacts and experience and even academic gongs, as any in the world. And one that's now a sad exception in the battle-scarred ranks of public-service broadcasting in Australia. It's not only an exception in the ABC, it's apparently at variance with present prejudice as a purveyor of scientific ideas, for most Australians are not comfortable with science. And this could be disastrous for the well-being of the nation. There are fewer students opting for science degrees. There are hardly any unions in Australia, whatever their trade, who have regular, useful, scientific advice on tap. And the presence of a scientifically qualified person on the board of a major company is as exceptional as the sight of Ayotollah Khomeine on a pub crawl. Yet, in complete contrast to all this, I find, and surveys back this up, that there is almost no limit to the Australian audiences' appetite for programs about science, medicine and natural history. There is also an appreciation that our lives are being changed with stunning speed by the effects of research and the futures of the nations around us are being transformed almost beyond belief as we watch, because of the powers of modern technology.

This nation is bewildered, it is demoralised from its loss of trading power in traditional commodities, it is uncomfortable with its boffins and almost, but not quite, resigned to becoming the amiable buffoon of the South Pacific.

Here are some conclusions collected by Richard Eckerseley for a survey published in August by the Commission for the Future.

Two thirds of Australians say that they do not think technological changes will affect their own jobs. They therefore, says Eckerseley, do not accept that they need greater and continuing education.

In 1986 the OECD examiners, reporting on Australian attitudes said they has been struck by a widespread view that technology is somehow 'external to national life'. They went on: "The somewhat remote Australian attitude to technology seemed to us to lead to a consistent undervaluation, and to some extent also a misinterpretation, of national technological achievements and possibilities ...... technology was seen as the concern of a very few highly skilled workers, rather than as a process which transforms all aspects of education, training, consumption, industrial relations and social or civic life."

Eckerseley comments on this statement from the OECD examiners by saying: "The explanation for this attitude may lie in our lack of knowledge about science and technology: Almost half of Australians admit to being poorly informed about these subjects."

And if half the nation is benefit, it's if anything, worse amongst our leaders - "Only one in ten leaders in business, government and trade unions considers him/or herself to be very informed about science. Four out of ten say they are poorly informed, a far higher proportion than for other subjects on which they were questioned, and the only subject about which leaders know as little as other Australians. Next comes computers and automation, about which a quarter of the leaders admit to being poorly informed".

This is perhaps why, says Eckerseley, "Australia's capability in these areas is amongst the poorest in the industrial world; and why government has, until recently, seen little need to do anything about the situation. And this, in turn, explains in part why we are now facing such serious economic problems". One survey has found, and this is consequently no surprise that: "Many of us feel badly let down by our leaders over the lack of planning, management and education_ associated with technological change in this country".

Just a few more numbers to complete the disturbing picture: About 60% think that science and technology have unleashed powers beyond our control and that we are gradually being taken over by machines, that these days everything is changing too fast. Only a tenth of young people (18-24) believe things will get better, only a quarter of 25-34 are so optimistic. Overall 6 out of 10 think that "our children will have a more difficult life than we have today, and that the future is so uncertain that it is better to live from day to day."

That, friends, is what we're up against. It is a mixture of a world-wide angst caused by economic austerity combined with a leadership in a number of countries which is anti- intellectual and obsessed with the values of the 'bottom line', that combined with our own Australian misfortunes and cultural history.

One way to respond is to live for today, as many youngsters are already. Another is to take heed of that old Chinese saying that "crisis is the coin of opportunity". Naturally, I favour the latter and shall come to that soon. First, let's look at the consequences of the short-term attitude...."she'll be right" and all that.

Last year I was invited to speak at the University of New England. A few days before Mr. Hawke, the Prime Minister, was also there, and he was greeted by a rowdy group of students who claimed to be from the NEW RIGHT. They held banners saying "Anything, you're for we're against!" and heckled him vigorously. When I spoke I spotted their contingent quite easily as being the ones giving expressive use of the middle finger throughout my address. I found this to be unusual behaviour for a formal dinner and so asked to meet some of them afterwards. I encountered three or four young men who then told me that they didn't know much really about THE NEW RIGHT, but had suggested some kind of demo and had been carried away by the unexpected enthusiasm with which their many supporters followed. They could, they said, have written almost anything on their placards, it didn't matter. But the really fascinating comments, was in answer to my question about why they'd chosen their subject of study and what they hoped to achieve. They ALL said, "I want a BMW by the age of 25 and I simply want to make lots and lots of MONEY".

This is a remark I heard from youngsters wherever I go. They say little about other ambition, this new breed of SELFISH AUSTRALIAN. The psychiatrist Anthony Clare has noted the same thing: "Pursue success at all costs. Push people aside. Do not be distracted by fine considerations of other people's feelings. If you want to get on, just think of good old, reliable number one. Those who make it in this life don't waste time holding doors

open for others - they just bolt straight through themselves. After all, who gives more than a passing glance at the poor devil who comes in second?

Such were the sentiments voiced by a disturbingly high proportion of a strikingly articulate and forthright group of young people gathered together in a recent and riveting edition of Thames Television "Tomorrow Talking". If this was indeed tomorrow talking, and the opinions were expressed without a quiver or a blush, then we are in for an even more concentrated form of rugged individualism and lust for personal achievement than we currently endure. The high ground of personal ambition has been comprehensively occupied by a company of blunt, plain-speaking, uncompromising egoists."

Consume, own, plunder, invest, not in tomorrow, but in quick financial return, Do you realise that according to a recent article in the "Sydney Morning Herald", the national debt on credit cards etc. but excluding home loans comes to $23 billion! the 350 credit cards now circulating in OZ.

Many of our captains of industry (the President of the Liberal Party, John Elliott is one) talk openly of investing overseas rather than in this country, simply because the return for stockholders is bigger and quicker. During the last election one was deafened in a cacophony of talk about 'hip-pocket nerves' as if that's all Australians will think about when deciding on a government to manage their future. We do get the politics and politicians we deserve, but I do believe that it's clear that quite a lot of Australians understand that they do have to pay for essentials like schools and universities and laboratories and museums, for the training of teachers and research staff, even for the recruitment and training of broadcasters. Because if you don't, you'll have only that which is second and third-rate. It's already happening: certainly in broadcasting. Probably in education. Probably in industrial relations.

Just a few days before the general election in July I approached the Prime Minister to register dismay about two aspects of his government's approach to our heritage. First, that the National Museum, planned for Canberra, has virtually been shelved. Funds for construction have been removed from the budget. Secondly, there has been discussion in the department of finance about the privatisation of some of the nation's collection of artworks - selling a few paintings. The Prime Minister, in convivial mood, put his arm round my shoulder and said that after this present economic difficulty there will be a return to proper funding for such enterprises. "There may be a few philistines in the Cabinet," he went on "but you can rest assured that their boss isn't a philistine".

Well, I am not assured. Willing to be convinced, yes. We do have the most talented federal ministers in generations, certainly the best educated. But they are, and always will be, preoccupied with keeping power. Only when there is a public demand for better science, education and broadcasting, will Mr. Hawke and his economic realists take heed and act accordingly.

Meanwhile, we have the following realities. The Department of Science has been abolished. Science is now an adjunct of Trade and Industry. Mr. Barry Jones does have powers of discretion in his changed portfolio, but he was nonetheless appalled by the lack of support he got from Australia's scientists and nearly resigned from government. The level of scientific achievement in Australia's universities and schools is being artificially boosted by Asian students. This is not to denigrate the Asians nor our proud role in giving them places. It is to warn that our own local results are much worse even than they seem. There are 20,000 young people qualified for tertiary education who can't get one. We still mirror Britain in sending only 11-12% of school-leavers on to university, compared to 33% in Japan and about 50% in America.

In broadcasting we are just about ignoring the proper reflection of the complexity of Australian society. On commercial TV the programs are copied and assembled from a kit sent from California. The quiz shows, the news format, the SIT*COMS, even the station slogans are manufactured elsewhere. Only the soap-operas are indigenous and going in the opposite direction. On the streets of Stockholm I've heard the signature tune from *Sons and Daughters"; in Oxford in July, I came across a 14 year old watching "PRISONER" at 1- 20 in the morning! About another product, now on BBC1, the "New Statesman" said this on August 7th: "Neighbours" is an Australian soap opera which forms the cornerstone of the BBC's daytime schedule. The sets look as if they are about to fall down; it is so badly shot and directed that the scenes look as if they are taking place in a cardboard box; and the cast all mouth their lines in a wary and uncomfortable way as if they had seen them for the first time that morning". However the commercial media have one important function: they are first-class refuges for A.B.C. staff wanting to be upwardly-mobile members of the BMW set.

Because, make no mistake, you don't earn much of a living at the ABC. The' highest possible salary for a staff member like me, doing broadcasting in radio, is $37,000. Managers can earn twice that, but not while on air. As a result most of us must do outside jobs. The professional circumstances, as I've told David Hill, are utterly inadequate. They are VERY sub-professional. We have suffered so many cuts for so long that siege has become a way of life. In some UNITS, like my own, there is enough esprit to keep us

together for a while yet. We insist on travel to the top overseas conferences, but we travel APEX and make sure we get the cheapest beds in town. We build careers in parallel outside our institution, so that we publish books, serve on boards of state organizations, make films and so on. This gives many of the Science Unit producers greater breadth, less obsession with the state of siege felt within the A.B.C. and more confidence in doing their job. It is an exception and it won't last.

Radio National will soon have parliamentary broadcasts filling its schedule. This is to save money, we're told. "Billboard", the only prime-time TV program on the arts, is gone; "Countdown", one of the only shows to present local pop talent, is gone. Richard Carleton, is gone.

These are some of the realities. Should we shrug, take Mr. Hogan's advice, put another prawn on the barbeque and resign ourselves to the SELFISH, the PHILISTINE society? Or could we look again at that Chinese proverb, that CRISIS is the COIN of opportunity?

Could we steer ourselves away from the way that Britain and the U.S.A. have gone with their absolute worship of the market place, where, if you're lucky you'll be a yuppie, consuming like hungry piranha fish, or if you're not so lucky you're a demoralised outcast for life?

Well, as I said, Australians can be a very flexible lot. They gave votes to women long before much of Europe. They have built a really impressive scientific record in no time at all. They have a worldwide reputation as conservationists - some of them. They have transformed themselves from white supremacy as an official policy that persisted until the last generation, into a land known for successful policy of multiculturalism. Even one of our stern-faced conservative Prime Ministers, Malcolm Fraser, helps lead the fight against apartheid on South Africa. Australia has UNLIMITED potential, if only she believed in herself and unlocked the idealism so obvious to people like me who travel throughout the country and talk to those with ideas.

That idealism and vision is largely absent from the leadership of universities (except this one), from the leadership of our cultural institutions (apart from those headed by ex Science Unit people) and from politics (with the obvious exception of Barry Jones and a couple of others). Unless that problem's solved I can see universities becoming not much more than dull factories for the production of yuppie fodder, our laboratories little more than sideshows to the miracles of creativity overseas, our broadcasting where I now am just a

10 quaint vestige with an audience of some dozens who listen to Icelandic, sagas and long programs from the BBC about poverty in Peru.

But if we do take the present challenge, what might it be like in FIFTEEN years from now, 30 years after that young man wandered up William Street in Sydney. Today I'm sure he would be unemployable. Today there are no space missions to the moon to unite our gaze (we are largely unaware that the Russians are, at this moment, breaking once more their space endurance record). Today we have AIDS and Star Wars to think about instead.

In fifteen years Australians will have realised what was becoming obvious in the eighties. That if the Mediterranean is the focus of history and the Atlantic the region where the present has sway, then the PACIFIC is the place of the future, the 21st Century.

Our universities in 2002 will be brimming with students from all over the Pacific, from Seoul to Singapore, from Vladivostok to Beijing. There will be some rich kids who pay and bring millions in overseas currency, there will also be poor kids who will take back priceless goodwill to their countries. They will come here because we have built up or maintained the best, most exciting and well-taught courses you can find. The net gain financially to Australia is beyond doubt. The gain in influence will put us, despite our size, at a pivot of influence, something we could have lost so easily as neighbours like Korea, Japan, Singapore and then even the Philippines and Thailand become so much more sophisticated and powerful; to say nothing of the miracle in China.

Our own students in 2002 have been galvanised by the new science courses which at last have been changed from the monumentally tedious endurance tests of yore. No longer do we wonder why students avoid science, we now know that vague promises of jobs for the very able, after many more years of postgraduate work getting PhD's and then only getting the wages of a clerk ARE NOT THE SEDUCTIVE proposition our mentors intended. We want rivetting lectures and practicals in 2002 because we've every right to expect them. We do not want lecturers or teachers who make Ronald Reagan sound well-informed or who have the pedaguogic style of either ‘serapax on legs’ or Count Dracula. We also, in 2002 enjoy to have our science, and other subjects, some in context, as if Boyle, Newton, Pasteur, Curie and Florey once lived and did their work for some set of reasons, good or bad. We also, as students in 2002, enjoy the fact that we've been allowed to speak up at school, so Australia teenagers no longer have the articulacy of Egyptian mummies or lobotomised chimps. They can talk about ideas and do so in tutorials, transforming them from exercises in mute embarrassment into the stimulating forums they're supposed to be.

Industry has also experienced a revolution in 2002. Managers in Australia, are for the first time, seen reading books, and confess to doing so without embarrassment. Directors are no longer only lawyers, accountants or MBA's, but now have scientific degrees, even PhD's just like their competitors overseas in the eighties. In 2002 many smaller businesses do research, afar more than the 4, 5 or 6 big ones that did so in the eighties. The 150% tax rebate has proved a great success and has been copied in Britain and other nations. We have adopted the best of the new technology and used it to enhance the skills of production people. This means we are not subject to the tyranny of mass production but can make sophisticated goods custom-built for our Asian neighbours with their huge populations It's interesting how many Asian managers remember their Australian training and stick to us for trade. Engineering, software, biotechnology, mining and mineral and materials science take off like never before.

We are also called in, as scientific advisors and providers of proven techniques, to advise throughout the world, on tropical agriculture, forestry, desertification and coral reef and fishery management.

Our unions in 2002 are fewer in number and have a place on the boards of companies. They all have scientific advisors. The ACTU has set up two institutes, one economic, one scientific, and they receive the best advice available on the future changes to industry happening everywhere. Union board members are the first to demand the latest techniques improve productivity, safety and efficiency. Industrial relations have moved from the era of brawls in smoke-filled rooms. Now the Japanese and Swedes come to study our methods. There is considerable emphasis on non-paid work activity, something much more apparent in 2002.

Having a scientifically literate population means we can spot environmental problems in the planning stage and avoid them. We can also build in alternatives should hazards turn up by surprise. We adopt new technology with informed caution; we don't any more rush to buy the latest machines just because they're so new and we may be caught napping if we're not STATE OF THE ART. NEOPHILIACS have paid the price. Penalties of pollution, acid rain, ozone damage and the greenhouse effect have turned out to be quite dreadful, costly to fix and very much worth avoiding.

In broadcasting we find, in 2002 that the commercial media mostly come direct from Japan and California where Alan Bond and Rupert Murdoch own all the radio and TV stations. Quiz shows, Sitcoms and pop music, on all networks are beamed in by satellite and are interrupted occasionally for local news, weather and racing results. This solves one

problem. No longer is Sydney accused of being the source of all broadcasts. Now it's Burbank and Nagoya.

The ABC on the other hand, is flourishing. It has two TV networks. One provides the best range of conventional fare whose quality alone ensures good ratings. No longer do we believe that the highbrow should be relegated to the late-night ghetto. But there's light stuff too: everyone enjoys a bit of a giggle, IF IT'S DONE WELL.

The second network follows the Channel 4 model in Britain, as a showcase for independent productions from outside the A.B.C. There is no limit to the experimentation and indeed the stimulation to the Australian cultural sector, one even more important now that discret- ionary leisure has increased so much.

On A.B.C. Radio in 2002, we are celebrating the fact that broadcasting parliament relentlessly for hours on end on a major net work is the most pointless exercise since Robyn Williams last tried to give up red wine. Nowhere else in the world has so much unedifying abuse, circumlocution, self-serving claptrap and bad English been dished up for an unwilling public, as what our parliamentarians insist on our having to endure by law. In 2002 we have instead both a half hour program of edited highlights with commentary from an A.B.C. journalist, AND a transmission on one of the many spare bands available, with the extra cost.

The A.B.C. has been stabilised by a fair and predictable system of budgeting. Staff are now hired for talent and intellect and universities are scoured by head-hunters to encourage the best youngsters to apply. Not that they need much encouragement in 2002 because the A.B.C. is once more an exciting place to be; one of the intellectual hothouses of the nation with a world-wide reputation for quality, originality and diversity. Where the commercials have abandoned trying to register the complexities of Australian life, the A.B.C. gives regional emphasis, so that ALL places, people and ways can be seen and heard through its programs, as well as the very best of universal issues.

Staff now have careers and need not progress only by giving up broadcasting. They are encouraged to read, study and travel. Like business people in 2002, for the first time it is possible to meet A.B.C. journalists who speak two or three languages. This transformation is facilitated by the fact that Asian languages are given the highest priority in schools.

So the A.B.C. in 2002 becomes, unlike that of the 80's, a fully professional body that's stimulating to work for and to watch and listen to. As a result there is no longer debate about its funding.

In 2002 we are celebrating the landing by the combined Soviet and U.S. mission on the planet Mars. The expense has been justified, as Carl Sagan predicted, as an event to unite people all over the world, as a peaceful exercise in co-operation, rather than scientific value for money. AIDS has been cut back too. It won't be wiped out like smallpox,, but can be kept in check, except for the unlucky few. Deaths from AIDS never exceed the number of deaths from car accidents in Australia.

Mobility together with stability is encouraged in 2002. No longer will we regard Australians who travel overseas as if they'd robbed a bank. It becomes normal and sensible to do so, even beyond the enticements of Bali, Buckingham Palace and Burbank. We also receive lots of visitors and are able to show them our treasures: some of the last tropical rainforests on earth, reclaimed desert, restored land once killed by bad farming. Because we are open, because we know, we are regarded as a priceless and unique corner of the blue planet that escaped the holocaust of indiscriminate industrialisation. No one wants to invade us, everyone likes to be invited. Australia is too precious an example to abuse, despite our small population and apparent vulnerability. We are respected by the new, civilised regime in the Soviet Union; we are old friends of the mighty modern China; we speak for the South Pacific and are able to be equally at home in the U.S A. and help her tackle her monumental economic troubles.

Even England still comes to play cricket, though not so well as back in 1972, 30 years before, when a young man, a refugee from Monty Python once walked up William Street.