Australia is a wealthy nation with the economic profile of a developing country – heavy on raw materials, and low on innovation and skilled manufacturing. Once we rode on the sheep’s back for our overseas trade; today we rely on cartloads of coal and tankers of LNG. So must we double down on fossil fuels, now that COVID-19 has halted the flow of international students and tourists? Or is there a better way forward, which supports renewable energy and local manufacturing? Judith Brett traces the unusual history of Australia’s economy and the “resource curse” that has shaped our politics. She shows how the mining industry learnt to run fear campaigns, and how the Coalition became dominated by fossil-fuel interests to the exclusion of other voices. In this insightful essay about leadership, vision and history, she looks at the costs of Australia’s coal addiction and asks, where will we be if the world stops buying it? “Faced with the crisis of a global pandemic, for the first time in more than a decade Australia has had evidence-based, bipartisan policy-making. Politicians have listened to the scientists and ... put ideology and the protection of vested interests aside and behaved like adults. Can they do the same to commit to fast and effective action to try to save our children’s and grandchildren’s future, to prevent the catastrophic fires and heatwaves the scientists predict, the species extinction and the famines?” —Judith Brett, The Coal Curse

Australia is the world's biggest coal exporter, accounting for over a third of coal exports worldwide. In 2018, coal overtook iron ore as our most valuable export. Scott Morrison's government has embraced coal, doubling down on supporting the industry, calling climate-based boycotts of coal companies "indulgent and selfish" and vowing to stop protestors. But what does our increased reliance on coal mean for the nation? For the economy and the environment? And where will it leave us when the world stops buying it? In this nuanced and insightful essay, Judith Brett looks at the consequences of Australia's coal addiction, from stalled climate-change policy to tensions between farmers and miners. She assesses where to next for a fractious Coalition and the Quiet Australians.

A brilliant collection of the best essays by award-winning writer Judith Brett, long revered by those in the know as Australia’s brightest and most astute political commentator.

How can we mend Australia’s broken mental health system? Mental illness is the great isolator - and the great unifier. Almost half of us will suffer from it at some point in our lives; it affects everybody in one way or another. Yet today Australia's mental health system is under stress and not fit for purpose, and the pandemic is only making things worse. What is to be done? In this brilliant mix of portraiture and analysis, Sarah Krasnostein tells the stories of three women and their treatment by the state while at their most unwell. What do their experiences tell us about the likelihood of institutional and cultural change? Krasnostein argues that we live in a society that often punishes vulnerability, but shows we have the resources to mend a broken system. But do we have the will to do so, or must the patterns of the past persist into the future? "In our conception of government, and our willingness to fund it, we are closer to the Nordic countries than to America. However, we're trending towards the latter with a new story of Australia. The moral of this new story is freedom over equality, and one freedom above all - the freedom to be unbothered by others' needs. However, as we continue to saw ourselves off our perch, mental health might be the great unifier that climate change and the pandemic aren't." Sarah Krasnostein, Not Waving, Drowning This issue also contains correspondence discussing Quarterly Essay 84, The Reckoning, from Gina Rushton & Hannah Ryan, Amber Schultz, Malcolm Knox, Janet Albrechtsen, Kieran Pender, Sara Dowse, Nareen Young, and Jess Hill

An illuminating history of the song for every kind of music lover Often today, the word ‘song’ is used to describe all music. A free-jazz improvisation, a Hindustani raga, a movement from a Beethoven symphony: apparently, they’re all songs. But they’re not. From Sia to Springsteen, Archie Roach to Amy Winehouse, a song is a specific musical form. It’s not so much that they all have verses and choruses – though most of them do – but that they are all relatively short and self-contained; they have beginnings, middles and ends; they often have a single point of view, message or story; and, crucially, they unite words and music. Thus, a Schubert song has more in common with a track by Joni Mitchell or Rihanna than with one of Schubert’s own symphonies. The Song Remains the Same traces these connections through seventy-five songs from different cultures and times: love songs, anthems, protest songs, lullabies, folk songs, jazz standards, lieder and pop hits; ‘When You Wish Upon a Star’ to ‘We Will Rock You’, ‘Jerusalem’ to ‘Jolene’. Unpicking their inner workings makes familiar songs strange again, explaining and restoring the wonder, joy (or possibly loathing) the reader experienced on first hearing. ‘As much about singing, musicianship and recording as it is about songwriting, this eclectic ride through a unique choice of songs (everyone will argue for alternatives) is cleverly curated and littered with intriguing details about the creators and their times, filled with loving cross-references to other songs and deft musical analysis. I defy anyone not to leap online to listen to the unfamiliar, or re-listen to old favourites in light of new detail. One of the best games in this book is figuring out why one song follows the other: there’s always an intelligent, often very funny, link.’ —Robyn Archer

Chapter 1: We didn’t Start the FireChapter 2: Food under Fossil Capitalism Chapter 3: Framing the Future of Food Chapter 4: Changing our Water Ways Chapter 5: The Getting of Nutritional Wisdom Chapter 6: Resilience through Resistance