Another Spectrum

Personal ramblings and rants of a somewhat twisted mind


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What next?

It’s been one of those months. Mostly “developed world” challenges, but if that’s the only world you’re familiar with they are real challenges in every sense of the word.

On the last day of June we switched internet and telephone providers. It’s not something I do regularly, but it’s a very competitive market in Aotearoa New Zealand. There are literally dozens of providers that supply various combinations of internet, home telephone lines, mobile telephones, electricity, and gas. Some provide all those products and services (and sometimes more) as a single package. However, the wife has a monopoly on choosing our electricity provider, while I make the decisions around the communication services, so I doubt we’ll ever have a single provider for all. Her priorities and mine are quite different.

We have now switched to a single provider for home phone, mobile phones and Internet, saving us nearly $50 per month. We’ve been using them for mobile phone services for some years and have been very happy with them, so when they made an offer that was to good to ignore, I decided to jump in boots and all. Usually switching between providers here is a painless operation and usually, if there is an outage, it’s often only minutes. Not this time.

The internet went down for no more than 10 minutes during the switch, but the home phone went dead and remained so. No dial tone, no anything. I won’t go into all the details, but it took two days and a replacement router before our home phone was back in business.

At around the same time, my old back injury returned with a vengeance. It still hasn’t settled down and I remain in some pain, but I’m damned of I’m going to take any more of those prescribed Tramadol tablets. My current inflexibility might make my movements appear as though my spine is made of a single plank of wood, but at least I’m moving. The Tramadol made me so drowsy and confused that I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag, let alone safely boil water for a cup of tea.

I selectively filter some internet traffic arriving at our home network, and have done so for more than ten years., through OpenDNS’s content filtering service. It worked reliably with my previous internet provider, but was proving very hit and miss with our new provider, and nothing they did made any difference. It took me two days of trawling the internet and some experimentation on my part to find the cause. The new router requires DNSv6 server configuration as well as the usual DNSv4. While OpenDNS do provide DNSv6 servers, it turns out these do not support content filtering. Whenever the router switched from a configured DNSv4 server to a configured DNSv6 server, content filtering would cease until it switched back to the former.

Identifying the problem was one thing, solving it was another. The new router must have DNSv6 servers configured. It will not accept blank or invalid IPv6 addresses. It took me nearly half a day of scratching my head to come up with a simple solution: Configure the DNSv6 addresses to a non exiting device on the local network. That way, when the router attempts to connect to a DNSv6 server, it gets no response, so marks it as unavailable and consequently resumes using one of the assigned DNSv4 servers.

Twenty-three years ago when I was working as an I.T. engineer, the cause of the problem and a solution probably would have come to me very quickly. But then I also had access to diagnostic tools that make troubleshooting relatively easy. After being out of the industry for so long, my 72 year old brain being not quite as sharp as it once was, and having a non-existent set of diagnostic tools, perhaps I should be proud of the fact that I solved a problem that a younger generation of I.T. engineers weren’t able to, even if I did take the best part of three days to do so.

Yesterday a tree at the front of our section (property/lot) fell over blocking our driveway. Another distraction I could have done without. This morning I planned to catch up with some work that had fallen behind due to all the major and minor inconveniences over the past few weeks. We have our two grandsons staying with us for a few days, and while they do make keeping to a schedule difficult, they are a welcomed and much appreciated distraction. I had just started to cook some porridge for their breakfast when the power went off.

Disruptions to the electricity supply are few and far between, and on the rare occasion they do occur, power is usually restored very quickly. Not today. The boys waited, and I waited, and when power hadn’t been restored ofter twenty minutes, I phoned our electricity provider. In the good old days, when the lines company was also the electric power company, their call centre would very quickly know the nature of any problem and when power would be restored again. Not now.

The local lines company, being a natural monopoly cannot sell electricity, and we have no direct connection with them. We buy electricity from one of the fifty or so retailers that sell electricity into this region, and when a problem does occur, we contact our retailer. When I phoned retailer, the call centre was unaware of the problem but they would lodge a fault with the lines company who would then investigate.

That’s the problem these days. It doesn’t matter whether it’s electricity, internet, phone or gas (and in some areas, water and sewerage) the company you buy the product/service from is not the one that delivers it to your door. There’s always at least one degree of separation, which makes it just a little bit more difficult know what’s going on.

It’s times like this I wonder whether we did the right thing in removing our two wood burners during renovations last year. We removed them because their cost of running, even for just six ours each day was considerable more expensive than the heat pump we had installed a few years back running 24/7. But as the house slowly but surely got progressively colder during the course of the morning, I was starting to have second thoughts. When power was finally restored just after midday, it was a decidedly chilly 13°C inside.

A few minutes after power was restored, the front doorbell rang. Standing there, was a guy dressed top to toe in Hi-Vis gear. He was an employee of a subcontractor to a company hired by the lines company to repair and maintain the lines company network. How many degrees of separation does that make it? In the “good old days” he would have been an employee of the monopoly local electric power company. He just wanted to ensure all was now well, and to let us know the outage was caused by a car crashing into a power pole just a few hundred metre from our home. He’d been assigned the task to call on those who had lodged a fault with their electricity retailer. Perhaps an inefficient way to update their customers, but a very much appreciated personal touch that many other businesses could emulate.

Let’s just hope that today’s incident is the last “inconvenience” for some time to come.


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Improved service!

Over many decades (seven of them) I have had the occasional need to call on the assistance of health professionals. Most have fallen in to the non-emergency category, but there have been a few cases where without appropriate assistance I probably would not have survived – polio and hepatitis are two that come to mind.

In recent decades I have found myself in the emergency department of the public hospital in a nearby city, with no clear recollection of how I got there. I suffer from a form of migraine that often mimics the symptoms of a stroke. It requires an EEG and an MRI to rule that possibility out. Then there was kidney stones where I do remember the painful half hour journey by ambulance to the hospital.

However, today’s post is an observation of how the service of non-urgent medical treatment by General Practitioners (GPs) have changed in recent years. I can only speak of my experience in the town where I live – Feilding (population 15,000). It may be different in other parts of the country.

When we first moved here around 1986, we enrolled with a GP (general practitioner) in sole practice who shared a receptionist and practice nurse with another sole practice GP. This was an a change from what we had in our previous location. There, the family was enrolled with a sole GP where the duties of receptionist, etc were carried out by his wife. Generally an appointment wasn’t necessary. One simply turned up during surgery hours and waited. At the new practice it was necessary to make an appointment first, and usually one could be seen the same day or the next. If it was urgent, but not an emergency, then one could typically be seen within the hour. When our doctor decided to leave general practice and specialise in industrial health, we found ourselves looking for another GP.

Wanting a practice within easy walking distance limited out options to two and we settled on a group practice consisting of four GPs and a number of support staff covering several fields. At first, non-urgent appointments could be booked two days in advance, but over the course of a decade, waiting times became longer until it reached the stage where non-urgent bookings were typically a week away.

Since the start of this millenium there had been discussion about forming a community health centre for Feilding that could provide additional services beyond those that a typical small private or group practice could provide. It could be viable only if all the GPs in town provided services from the same facilities. It was a slow process but a few years ago Feilding Health Care Hauora Tangata opened for business.

While it provided radiology and other services previously only available in the city of Palmerston North (about a 30 minute drive), I can’t say there’s an improvement for non urgent medical attention. At this point I feel the need to mention that what constitutes non-urgent now includes conditions that would have been deemed urgent just a few years ago. Take for example my recent experience.

Weekend before last, I did something that caused an old injury to flare up. When I was 17, I suffered a lower back injury that resulted in one collapsed disc (two vertebrae now grind against each other wearing their faces down), one seriously compressed disc, and another with less severe compression. Over the years I have learnt to manage the injury, and for the most part, it doesn’t cause continuous pain. When I am careless and do something to silly, I can find myself in considerable pain exacerbated by any movement of the torso or legs. This was one of those occasions.

There are a number of exercises I have been taught to assist in recovery when my mobility is compromised like this, and generally within four or five days after a flare up I can reach the stage where the pain has been replaced by discomfort. However this time, the pain severely limited what I could do. As the weekend rolled around again, there had been no improvement and my mobility had become more restricted. So first thing Monday morning I phoned to make an appointment to see the doctor.

It was then that I was reminded how much of an improvement had been made over recent years. After describing my condition to the receptionist, I was advised that my assigned GP was away until August and even though I was in considerable pain and could scarcely walk, it didn’t qualify as urgent and there were no non-urgent spaces available for the next month! After some strong words from me she relented and said she would arrange for a duty nurse to contact me later in the day to evaluate my needs.

At four thirty, the nurse phoned and after a short discussion, she too said that I wasn’t able to book an appointment. However, I could see a doctor if I attended the after hours clinic which opens at six each evening, although I might have to wait a while before being seen. I was there before six but already there was a line of people at the check-in desk. Just as it was about to be my turn, the receptionist put an “Appointments closed” sign in the desk. I wasn’t pleased, and in the condition I was, I didn’t care who knew.

I think the receptionist took pity on me and said she’d try to have me seen by a nurse. Well, that’s better than nothing I suppose, and half an hour later one appeared. She told me the good news. All the doctors on duty were fully booked up for the evening, but if I drove across to Palmerston North I could attend an after hours clinic there. I asked if I could be guaranteed being seen, but no, they too ran their after hours service on a first in first served basis.

By this time my pain was so severe that I could only talk in gasps, and as best as I could I asked if it was reasonable to expect someone of my age, who has nyctalopia and cataracts in both eyes to drive to Palmerston North at night when they can barely walk or sit just on the off chance that a doctor might be able to see them. She conceded it wasn’t reasonable. How generous of her. I asked her what my options were to which she replied she wasn’t sure but she would find out.

She returned about ten minutes latter to give me “great news” that if I was prepared to wait and if a doctor finished all their cases before eight o’clock then he/she would see me, but there’d be no guarantee that I would be seen. I waited. And waited some more.

Some acquaintances tell me I have the patience of a saint, and on Monday evening that played to my advantage. Two people who were ahead of me in the queue were becoming more and more agitated as time wore on. Eventually one, then the other left in anger after waiting around an hour and a half. Ten minutes later, my name was called.

To cut a long story a little shorter, the doctor decided there was no new nerve damage (I’d already determined that) and that with some pain killers, I should be back to normal within a week. I was sent home with a single pain tablet to be taken when I arrived home. A short while later I received an SMS message informing me that a prescription had been sent to my preferred pharmacist and could be picked up in the morning.

The prescription was for Tramadol, which I’m supposed to take three times a day. No way! I tend to experience the worst side effects of every medication, and Tramadol proved to be no exception. Within an hour of taking it, I became fuzzy headed, unable to think clearly and found difficulty staying awake. Shortly after, my irregular heart beat became pronounced. I regularly miss about one heart beat in ten, but it increased to one in every four or five and was very noticeable to me. Then a headache set in. About time to research Tramadol’s side effects.

The possible side effects as described on Drugs.com make alarming reading, and the description on the NZ Health Navigator only slightly less so. I took two tablets yesterday, and only one today and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open as I compose this post. However, I think it has done the trick in relieving the pain as I am now able to do my exercises for managing back pain. Fingers crossed it stays that way.

On a brighter note. I received a phone call shortly after six last evening from Feilding Health Care inviting me to get my first Covid jab. They had a few surplus doses and if I came immediately I could receive my first of the two Pfizer shots. The wife and I were there and had our first vaccination within half an hour, and our next vaccination is booked in for later this month. We had been booked in for our first jab in August, and while there’s no sense of urgency here in Aotearoa New Zealand, it is comforting to know that our personal risk is now even lower than it has been.


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The Jab

Living in one of a few truly covid-free nations, Aotearoa New Zealand, there has been little urgency for most people to be vaccinated. Border, quarantine, health and essential service workers have already been vaccinated and others at high risk are currently in the process of being vaccinated. The general population will be able to get vaccinations from the end of July for those over sixty and then progressively through younger age bands. By the end of the year, everyone over the age of sixteen will have had the opportunity to be vaccinated.

Being in our seventies, the wife and I are considered “at risk” and yesterday I received an SMS message inviting me to book an appointment for the first of the two Pfizer shots. So now we have a confirmed appointment for the 10th of August, at 2:40 to be precise. Yes, it’s still around six weeks away, but like most Kiwis, we don’t have a sense of urgency about being vaccinated.

As to whether the lack of urgency is good or bad depends on one’s fear and/or restrictions on freedom. Here in Aotearoa New Zealand, where we don’t experience restrictions such as social distancing, wearing of masks (except on public transport) or limits on the size of social gatherings (recently, 50,000 fans attended a Six60 concert in Auckland, and tens of thousands regularly attend sports events), life has been more or less normal for more than a year. Yes we are still encouraged to scan QR codes wherever they are displayed and to enable Bluetooth on our mobile devices to enable fast and effective contact tracing if necessary.

My observation has been that significantly less than 25% of the public bother to scan the QR code that is by law required to be displayed at all premises and locations open to the public. I have no idea what percentage of those who don’t bother to scan have the covid app and Bluetooth enabled on their mobile devices, but I’d be more comfortable about the ability for any future covid outbreak to be contained if more people took the the time to scan, especially in light of new variants that are highly transmissible. It literally takes only a second of your time to scan a QR code if you’re prepared. So why not do it?

Perhaps too many people here are a little too complacent about the potential dangers and have forgotten the effects of the lockdown in March/April 2020. If it wasn’t for the frequent overseas covid related news reports such as new variants appearing in some parts of the world and the dire effects such as has occurred in India, I suspect any thought I have about the pandemic would quickly fade into oblivion. It’s something that affects other nations, not Aotearoa New Zealand.

It is true that the quarantine-free travel bubble between this country and the various Australian states can be a bit hit and miss at the moment as covid still pops up over there from time to time. A bit like whack-a-mole. It’s enough for me not to consider travelling to Australia for the time being. What I find hard to fathom is why so many Kiwis feel they’re hard done by when they cannot return home without being quarantined, whenever an outbreak occurs over the ditch. It’s been made abundantly clear that the quarantine-free travel bubble with Australia is conditional on each Australian state being covid free, and that there is no guarantee that the situation in Australia will remain the same throughout their stay there. Are they unable to understand the risks or are they wilfully ignoring them?


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Activity – not exercise

I’ve never been one to exercise, and instead prefer regular moderate activity throughout the day. It seems that I might be on the right track. A recent study has shown that strenuous joggers had the same mortality rate as sedentary people who did nothing. And of course these people suffer a higher rate of exercise related injuries.

I appreciate some people get a buzz from strenuous activity, and that’s fine, but if the only reason for doing it is to promote a long and healthy life, there are other alternatives that may be even more beneficial: It turns out exercise isn’t that good for you after all.


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ABA Therapy and PTSD

Think about it: almost half of all autistic people who undergo ABA “therapy” suffer from PTSD. As a follow up to yesterday’s post on the abusive nature of ABA, I recommend reading the following article:


ABA Therapy and PTSD

The “New ABA” is still all about compliance.

I was called “unethical” by a professional colleague today.

The reason may surprise you—I said “ABA is abuse”.  My peer was naturally taken aback because they are an SLP-BCBA and “would never dream of abusing a child.” I always find this rebuttal interesting because we usually don’t hear about people walking around admitting to abusing people; even overt predators somehow convince themselves that they are helping their victim. The sanctimonious SLP-BCBA told me that it was the “old ABA” and not “new ABA” that was harmful, and then only a small fraction of the time.  She accused me of “throwing the baby out with the bathwater” (I still don’t really understand how this idiomatic expression applies here) and she further went on to insist that there is “no way ABA could cause PTSD in people with Autism.” (She really meant “Autistic people,” I am sure.)

Humans have an amazing innate response to survive when they are faced with a threat or danger, fight, flight, or freeze. This is an automatic nervous system response. The fight and flight responses are triggered by the sympathetic nervous system, and the freeze response is triggered by the parasympathetic nervous system. Both of these systems combined make up the autonomic nervous system (ANS). When one of the responses is dispatched the human body simultaneously releases adrenaline and cortisol. If the ANA is only triggered once, for example maybe you almost rear-end someone while driving, your body would typically return to a calm state in 20-30 minutes. But, when the ANS is repeatedly triggered without time to regulate and return cortisol levels to a manageable level, what results is trauma-induced post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).  (Cleveland Clinic, 2019)


Visit the Therapist Neurodiversity Collective website to view the rest of the article


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Observations on COVID in Aotearoa New Zealand — Peter Davis NZ

Peter Davis casts a health sociologist’s eye on COVID in Aotearoa New Zealand. It’s worth the read!

By dint of a dash of luck and a quantum of good management, the five-million strong island nation of Aoteaora New Zealand, wedged between the continents of Antarctica and Australia, has to date come through the COVID crisis largely unscathed. There have been 25 deaths – most in aged care residences – about 2,500 recorded […]

Observations on COVID in Aotearoa New Zealand — Peter Davis NZ


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We deserve better

In the unlikely event that you are unaware, April is Autism Awareness Month. You may see slogans such as “light it up blue” and others promoted by an organisation inappropriately named Autism Speaks. What it doesn’t do is speak for the autistic community, and in the eyes of most adult autistics it does more harm than good.

Below is a video clip created for Autism speaks in (I believe) 2016. While their rhetoric has been toned down in recent years, I see no evidence that their attitude towards autism has shifted one iota. It depicts people such as myself causing irrevocable damage to families and that we as autistics have very few prospects of living a rewarding life unless we are “treated” or unless a “cure” is found.

I’m not bothering with a transcription for this clip as the voices are American and consequently Youtube’s subtitling of the clip is quite accurate. So for those who wish to read read along, please turn on Subtitles/Closed captions.

The “I am autism” video by Austism Speaks that most adult autistics find offensive.

Here are some appalling statistics related to people who are autistic. These are statistics from Australia, but in all “developed” nations you’ll find the situation is similar. It’s important to understand these are not inherent in autism itself, but are entirely due to the way society treats those with autism. If you think racism is harmful, what do these statistics tell you about ableism?

  • About 60% of adult autistics are underemployed or unemployed
  • 87% of autistics have a mental illness
  • autistic people are nine times more likely to die by suicide than the general population
  • autistics have a life expencey of 54 years

We deserve better.

We don’t need to be cured. There’s nothing wrong with us. As suggested in the next video clip, perhaps neurodiversity is important in maintaining a healthy and sustainable cognitive environment in the same way as biodiversity is important in maintaining a healthy and sustainable physical environment. What is very clear to autistics is that current social attitudes towards autism is harmful. It’s not us as individuals that need curing. What is needed is a paradigm shift in how society views neurodiversity

A transcription has been prepared by Theresa Ranft and reviewed by David DeRuwe, so for those who find the Australian accent difficult or for those with hearing difficulties, please turn on Subtitles/Closed captions.

About the speaker Jac den Houting:

Being diagnosed with autism is often seen as a tragedy. But for Jac den Houting, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to them. As an autistic person, concepts like the Neurodiversity paradigm, the Social Model of Disability, and the Double Empathy Problem were life-changing for Jac. In this talk, Jac combines these ideas with their own personal story to explain why we need to rethink the way that we understand autism. Jac den Houting is a research psychologist and Autistic activist in pursuit of social justice. Jac currently holds the role of Postdoctoral Research Associate at Macquarie University in Sydney, working alongside Professor Liz Pellicano. In 2015, Jac was awarded an Autism CRC scholarship to complete their PhD through the Autism Centre of Excellence at Griffith University in Brisbane. Prior to this, they gained almost 10 years’ experience as a psychologist in the criminal justice system, with the Queensland Police Service and Queensland Corrective Services. Jac was identified as Autistic at the age of 25, and is proudly neurodivergent and queer. After participating in the inaugural Future Leaders Program at the 2013 Asia Pacific Autism Conference, Jac quickly became established as a strong advocate for the Autistic community. Jac is a current member of the Autistic Self Advocacy Network of Australia and New Zealand (ASAN-AuNZ)’s Executive Committee, the Autism CRC’s Data Access Committee, Aspect’s LGBTQIA+ Autism Advisory Committee, and the Aspect Advisory Council.

source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1AUdaH-EPM
Why everything you know about autism is wrong – a TEDx talk by Jac den Houting


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Covid restrictions

Whenever media comment on the success the Aotearoa New Zealand has had in managing the pandemic, too often there is a mistaken belief that the citizens of this nation are living under some form of draconian authority that has made us prisoners in our own country.

In some cases it may be that messages to its residents from authorities or conversations between Kiwis is misinterpreted (either in ignorance or deliberately) to mean something sinister – for example the misconception that thousands of Kiwis are locked up in concentration camps indefinitely for refusing to take a covid test and by implication anyone who opposes the way the government is managing the crisis is also locked up. This myth is one actively promoted on Fox in shows such as The Ingraham Angle.

In most cases it’s a matter of making the “facts” fit a preconceived notion, one of which is that because they believe we are a socialist state (really?), we must have an authoritarian government that limits our freedoms and interferes in our daily lives. In fact nothing could be further from the truth.

One only needs to see where this nation ranks on just about every freedom index known to see the fallacy of their beliefs. Whether it’s personal, economic, political, religious or any other freedom, Aotearoa New Zealand is ranked at the top or nearly at the top whereas their beloved America is seldom in the top twenty places. But specifically I want to illustrate that the approach to covid taken by our government has resulted in us having less stringent restrictions and more freedom than just about any other country.

Those who argue against restrictions often cite Sweden as a shining example of freedom during the pandemic. However Swedes do live under quite heavy restrictions – more so than the US. They also have suffered a heavy loss of life and the economy has slowed down significantly. Meanwhile NZ suffered a huge hit due to the lack of foreign visitors but the economy has bounced back to above pre-covid days and we go about our daily lives much as we did before the pandemic started. And while this country reports new cases almost on a daily basis, these are not cases in the community. They are new arrivals to this country who have tested positive while still in quarantine.

I’m going to present some information in the form of charts and tables that show that Aotearoa New Zealand is not a communist or fascist hellhole that many on the right claim it to be. I don’t intend to show whether or not the actions taken by our government are more effective than in other jurisdictions, only that they impacted on our freedom less than elsewhere. I’ve arbitrarily chosen four countries to compare with NZ: The United States because that is where the claims that we have lost our freedom are the loudest; The United Kingdom because their government seems to change their mind as often as most people change their underwear; Sweden because it has had no lockdowns and is looked upon by the the anti lockdown brigade as a shining example of how to manage a pandemic; and Japan because it’s the wife’s homeland, and like the UK and NZ is a group of islands.

First let’s look at the COVID-19 Stringency Index. The nine metrics used to calculate the Stringency Index are: school closures; workplace closures; cancellation of public events; restrictions on public gatherings; closures of public transport; stay-at-home requirements; public information campaigns; restrictions on internal movements; and international travel controls.

As can be seen from the chart below, the US, the UK and Sweden have had similar levels of stringency throughout 2020 and it’s only since the end of last year that measures in the UK have become more stringent.

Japan has had been significantly less stringent over all but still considerably more so than NZ. Note how New Zealand has responded. At any sign of an outbreak, the nation goes hard for a few weeks or days, but otherwise life is mostly “normal”.

The COVID-19 Containment and Health Index shows similar results. This index builds on the Stringency Index, using its nine indicators plus testing policy, the extent of contact tracing, requirements to wear face coverings, and policies around vaccine rollout. It’s therefore calculated on the basis of the following thirteen metrics: school closures; workplace closures; cancellation of public events; restrictions on public gatherings; closures of public transport; stay-at-home requirements; public information campaigns; restrictions on internal movements; international travel controls; testing policy; extent of contact tracing; face coverings; and vaccine policy.

Both the above charts clearly indicate when community transmission occurred in NZ and lockdowns were put in place. The first when around 1500 were infected, the second when around 100 were infected and the third where 4 people were infected. In each case, the restrictions were lifted only when health authorities were satisfied that the virus was had been eliminated from the community. And as can be seen, the containment measures taken during the last two outbreaks have still been less than the day to day containment measures in the US, the UK and Sweden.

If we look at some of the metrics used in the above charts we can see how these have worked out. Note that in some jurisdictions, management of the pandemic varies from region to region. So while the strongest measure indicated for a country may not apply everywhere, it applies to a significant section.

School closures

  1. No measures: NZ
  2. Recommended: Japan
  3. Required (only at some levels): US; Sweden
  4. Required (all levels): UK

Workplace closures

  1. No measures: NZ
  2. Recommended: Japan
  3. Required for some: US; Sweden
  4. Required for all but key workers: UK

Cancellation of public events

  1. No measures: NZ
  2. Recommended cancellations: Japan
  3. Required cancellations: US; UK; Sweden

Restrictions on public gatherings

  1. No restrictions: NZ
  2. Restrictions on large gatherings but above 1000 people: Japan
  3. Gatherings between 100 & 1000 people:
  4. Gatherings between 10 & 100 people:
  5. Gatherings of less than 10 people: US; UK; Sweden

Stay-at-home requirements

  1. No measures: NZ
  2. Recommended: US; Japan; Sweden
  3. Required (except essentials): UK
  4. Required (few exceptions):

Face covering policies

  1. No policy:
  2. Recommended: Japan
  3. Required in some public spaces: NZ; UK; Sweden
  4. Required in all public spaces:
  5. Required outside-the-home at all times: US

Public information campaigns

  1. None:
  2. Public officials urging caution:
  3. Coordinated information campaign: NZ; US; UK; Japan; Sweden

Public transport closures

  1. No measures: NZ
  2. Recommended closing (or reduce volume): US; UK; Japan; Sweden
  3. Required closing (or prohibit most using it):

Restrictions on internal movement

  1. No measures: NZ
  2. Recommend movement restriction: Japan; Sweden
  3. Restrict movement: US; UK

International travel controls

  1. No measures:
  2. Screening:
  3. Quarantine from high-risk regions:
  4. Ban on high-risk regions: US; UK; Sweden
  5. Total border closure: NZ; Japan

Testing policy

  1. No testing policy:
  2. Symptoms & key groups:
  3. Anyone with symptoms: NZ; UK; Japan; Sweden
  4. Open public testing (incl. asymptomatic): US

Contact tracing

  1. No tracing:
  2. Limited tracing (only some cases): US; UK; Japan; Sweden
  3. Comprehensive tracing (all cases): NZ

Vaccination Policy

  1. None:
  2. Availability for ONE of following: key workers/ clinically vulnerable groups / elderly groups: NZ; Japan
  3. Availability for TWO of following: key workers/ clinically vulnerable groups / elderly groups: US;
  4. Availability for ALL of following: key workers/ clinically vulnerable groups / elderly groups: Sweden
  5. Availability for all three plus partial additional availability: UK
  6. Universal availability:

Income support

  1. No income support:
  2. Covers less than 50% of lost salary: NZ
  3. Covers more than 50% of lost salary: US; UK; Japan; Sweden

Debt and contract relief

  1. No relief: Sweden
  2. Narrow relief: US
  3. Broad relief: NZ; UK; Japan

So please tell me how New Zealand is in the grips of a brutal authoritarian regime after first removing our guns (another myth), while the US (or Sweden) is a model of covid management that should be emulated across the planet.


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Has the Treaty played a role in our Covid success?

Nicholas Agar, Professor of Ethics in the Philosophy programme at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington, suggests that our handling of the pandemic could be partly down to our distinctive Treaty of Waitangi relationship, and Māori ideas that enabled us to make it through without tens of thousands of deaths.

Here’s a question. How should we explain our success against the pandemic? Clearly, there are a few factors. The virus arrived comparatively late, meaning we could learn from other nations’ successes and messes; we had inspirational and scientifically-informed leaders; we are an affluent island-based nation with a comparatively small population.

I offer as a conjecture that our success can be partly traced back to our defining Treaty of Waitangi relationship and the way it brings together two peoples with different ideas about the world and how to inhabit it.

Has the Treaty played a role in our Covid success? – Newsroom

Agar suggests that it is the blend of individualistic ideas of European settlers, mostly British, and the collectivist thinking of the Māori that has been the success story of the pandemic. Unlike the “don’t tread on me!” attitude of many in the West, the authorities in Aotearoa New Zealand have been able to introduce measures that we have, by in large, accepted as necessary under the circumstances.

Elsewhere similar measures have been implemented only where the draconian powers of an authoritarian state exist, such as in China. The means by which the Wuhan authorities suppressed community transmission of the virus would, I believe, have been no more acceptable here than in America. The concept of a “team of 5 million” is, I believe, a direct result of the way our two very different cultures with different world views are merging.

The opinion piece by Nicholas Agar can be found on the Newsroom website: Has the Treaty played a role in our Covid success?


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Seeing is believing

Like everyone else on this planet (perhaps with the exception of the previous POTUS) I am not perfect, nor was I born that way. Today I want to focus on some imperfections I was born with. I’m using “imperfections” here in two different ways.

  • Those traits and characteristics that society deems as flaws disabilities, unacceptable or a nuisance to deal with
  • Those traits and characteristics that one feels about oneself that are flaws, disabilities, unacceptable or a nuisance to deal with.

Often times, what one perceives as an imperfection may not be deemed so by society, and of course the opposite is true – what society deems as an imperfection may not be deemed so by oneself.

In my own case an obvious example is autism. Almost certainly, no one in any profession would have considered I was autistic until perhaps the 1990s and the condition became better understood. I wasn’t diagnosed as such until 2010. My family had always been very accepting of my “quirkiness”, but the rest of society wasn’t. I was cajoled, teased, bullied, reprimanded, punished and violently assaulted for being “different”.

I perceive the world differently at many levels compared to non-autistic people, and I may post more on how growing up as an undiagnosed autistic affected my life at another time, but today I want to concentrate on the imperfections of my eyesight and vision, and how those have been perceived by myself and others.

I was born with both myopia and astigmatism although neither myself, family, friends or school teachers realised it. It was finally my music teacher who realised I was unable to read music notation in advance of where I was playing that lead to my first “real” eye examination when I was 12 years old.

Sure, for the previous seven years, I had passed the usual eye test at school where one reads an eye chart at a prescribed distance.

Tests were carried out on the entire class by putting all the students in a line and then taking the student at the front of line through the test. Not being particularly assertive, I usually found myself near the back end of the line. Alternatively, we sat at out desks and were called up in alphabetical order by family name. Either way I was always in the last quartile of the class to be tested.

I don’t recall how far through the chart we were required to go, but I think it was only as far as the line for 20/20 vision. I always passed the test with flying colours. I could rattle off the letters as fast as the best of the class.

The problem was that I couldn’t read the chart apart from the very top letter, and even that was very marginal. So how could I pass every time? By the time it was my turn to read the chart, twenty or more children had already read it in my presence. First with one eye and then with the other. I had heard the chart called out 40 or more times at varying speeds. More than enough repetitions for me to have memorised it.

I don’t recall whether the memorisation was intentional or not, but I do recall that the class consensus was that “failing” wasn’t a desirable outcome, just like failing any other test wasn’t. So everyone including myself did our best to get a “good” pass. I felt good when the adult conducting the test would say something like “Very good, well done Barry”. It was praise I seldom received from anyone other than my parents.

If I had understood how bad my eyesight was, what I was missing and how corrective lenses could change my perception of the world around me, I would have had no qualms about failing the test. Such is life. It took a rather crabby and domineering music teacher to recognise my disability.

Strange as it may seem now, I had no idea that my eyesight was so poor. In fact I had the perception that it was rather good, and I wasn’t the only one. This came about because whenever we travelled along the highways I was able to recognise roadside hoardings/billboards well before either the driver or my fellow passengers. In hindsight, the explanation is simple. I had learnt to recognise all the signs not by the wording or images but by the combination and pattern of colours, which in those long forgotten days (the 1950s) tended to be consistently the same year on year.

As a humorous aside, it wasn’t until after I had my first set of glasses that I discovered that the name of one of the most ubiquitous signs at that time had been been assigned an “alternative” name by the family – an in joke I didn’t discover until I could read the wording myself: Cough Cough and Hammer was actually Gough Gough and Hamer.

I recall the sudden panic, almost terror that I experienced the first time I walked out of the optometrist’s shop wearing my new glasses. As the shop door was closing behind me and I looked ahead, I suddenly and simultaneously took a step backwards into the door and ducked. It literally felt like the world was being thrown at my face. The clarity of the detail of the shop fronts on the opposite of the road felt like they were a mere 6 inches (the NZ switch to metric measurements was still decades away) in front of my face.

It was perhaps the most disorienting experience of my life at that time. I was frozen to the spot. I don’t know how long I stood in that doorway ducking pedestrians and cars that seemed to be inches away, but were in fact yards away.

It seems rather odd now that it never occurred to me that the very obvious solution to my situation was to remove my glasses. An optometrist employee recognised my dilemma and pulled me back inside the shop and removed the glasses. After some quick instructions not to put on my glasses until I was in a small room that I was familiar with and to work up to bigger spaces from there, I was sent on my way.

As much as I wish my new glasses improved my life, they didn’t.

A characteristic of many people on the autism spectrum is the inability to subconsciously filter information arriving via the senses. For example in a crowded room where several conversations are taking place, most people are able to ignore conversations they are not participating in. Other conversations will only reach their conscious awareness when there’s a noticeable change such as in volume, pitch or body language – for example when an argument starts.

Most people have the ability to ignore conversation threads they are not participating in. I can’t. A simple analogy might be the example of being in a group conversation when all participants start addressing you all at the same time, at the same volume but all on different topics. I think the resultant confusion will cause most people to put their hands up and demand that the participants speak one at a time. That’s the situation I face all the time. ALL.THE.TIME!

It turns out that my ability to filter out visual stimuli as that same as my ability to filter out aural stimuli. I can’t. I found the bombardment of new visual information overwhelming and exhausting. Previously trees were largely blurry blobs of green. I could distinguish individual leave only at relatively close distances, so perhaps no more than a hundred or so leaves at any one time. Suddenly I was seeing thousands, hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of leaves all at once – every one a slightly different size, shape and colour, and all moving independently in the breeze. I didn’t know how to process all this new information.

Suddenly telephone poles and power poles had distinguishable cross arms, insulators of various colours but seemingly on no particular order or pattern. I could see the wires and the patterns they wove overhead. I could actually make out birds sitting on the wires or on rooftops, and even identify the species – something I had previously only been able to do from the pages of a book.

And speaking of books, whereas previously there was only a small area around the word I was reading where the shape of individual words could be distinguished easily (I recognise words by their shape as much as I do by the letters within them), suddenly every letter on the page became individually identifiable, every one of them yelling in unison “Read me NOW!”

Wallpaper patterns now continued right around the room instead of being discernible only in near proximity. On large buildings, all the individual windows could be seen. What’s more they formed regular patterns, and any break to that pattern became a distraction I couldn’t avoid being aware of. The same with pathways. Joins formed patterns that extended into the distance and any spot where the pattern was disturbed jumped out at me. I couldn’t help but notice it.

Never before in my life had been in a situation where I could distinguish the facial features of more than five or six people at one time. Now I could see all the features of everyone in the classroom ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Just too much information to handle. It didn’t help me with facial recognition, but it did allow me to apply the rules I used for identifying individuals at greater distances than previously. Crowds became a confusing collection of

Tiled roofs became a collection of thousands of individual tiles, many of which had individual characteristics I couldn’t help noticing. I could see the corrugations on corrugated iron roofs, and the rows of nails holding them down. Disturbances in the rows (a nail missing, irregularly spaced or out of alignment) shouted out “Look at me!”

Sixty years on and and the same distractions still occur. What I have learnt is how to consciously push them into the background. Over the years I have got better at doing it and it probably takes less effort to do so. There are still times, especially leading up to and during a migraine where I find all the visual information overwhelming. It’s nice to be able to remove my glasses and move into a visually gentler and less harshly chaotic world where I’m not assaulted by detail.

While I mostly appreciate the details I seem to notice when no one else does, there are times when I wish I could simply not notice them in the first place – just like everyone else.