See How We Roll

 

In the perilous movement of people through time and space, both places and kin are made and remade. A primary driver of movement is the opportunistic pursuit of resources: a meal, an adventurous ride, the numbing release of alcohol or ganja, the conviviality of assembled kin … All of these forms of Warlpiri movement, no matter their diversity, never seem to be in search of a destination per se. The near pristine abandoned houses at one of the outstations on Nungarrayi’s ancestral estate attest to this; the houses stand as a kind of melancholy memorial to the collapsed outstation movement more generally and the bewildering history of the disconnect between government imaginaries and Aboriginal ways of living. Warlpiri rarely look to settle in the conventional Western sense; they do not arrive at a destination. They keep moving, always on the lookout for what is coming next.

 

The extract above is from page 84 of Melinda Hinkson’s recent book, See How We Roll, which focusses on the challenges inherent in the life of a Warlpiri woman living in exile from her ancestral country in Adelaide. The subtitle is Enduring Exile Between Desert and Urban Australia.

 

See How We Roll is an ethnography exploring myriad issues which explicate and illuminate Warlpiri ways of living in modern Australia. It is narrated reflexively through the prism of a friendship between anthropologist Hinkson and her ‘informant’ Nungarrayi (a subsection term that serves to anonymise the individual concerned). Hinkson has written a comparatively dense book, interleaving an individual narrative embedded within a complex world of local Aboriginal politics, conflicts and social relations, anthropological theory, contextualised within a staccato account of two decades of policy history related to remote Australia.

 

My sense is that See How We Roll was written for a largely academic and anthropological readership, and I expect it will be well received. It is very well written, builds on the pre-existing literature, and moves smoothly between participant observation and theoretical exegesis. Despite its theoretical density, the narrative alone is worth reading as it brings to life the lives of not just Nungarrayi, but her extended family. While Hinkson doesn’t say so, my sense is that the experiences narrated in See How We Roll are widely replicated across remote Australia and the surrounding urban cities and towns.

 

Hinkson’s nuanced narrative describes, in largely non-judgemental terms, the extraordinarily precarious lives of Warlpiri people, the daily challenges of sustaining welfare payments, keeping power on, engaging government services, their drinking culture, the moving in and out of prison, hospitals, and the early deaths of far too many. She also describes the social relations at the heart of Warlpiri society, the importance of kin, the attachments to place and to country, and (as in the quote above) their addiction to perpetual movement and engagement, all from the perspective of a grandmother who has decided to leave her Central Australian community and live in Adelaide; a grandmother who has a propensity to live on the edge.

 

It strikes me that this is, more than any other I have come across recently, an important book for policymakers engaged in shaping policy in the Indigenous domain. It shatters preconceptions regarding the distinction between remote and urban contexts, and makes clear the parallels between disadvantaged Indigenous people and other disadvantaged citizens. Most importantly, it should make policymakers question their assumptions and preconceptions regarding Indigenous life choices, and the potential for policy instruments and measures of various kinds to articulate or engage with the altogether different world views and approaches to living of many Indigenous people.

 

I do have one critical comment regarding See How We Roll. While Hinkson’s narrative describes the experience of Indigenous lives neutrally and largely objectively, she resorts to a more value laden approach to her description of various policy measures. It is not that I fundamentally disagree with her policy critiques (which are often included as brief asides more than extended arguments), but it somehow doesn’t sit well within an otherwise neutrally descriptive narrative. In the scheme of things however, my criticism is a mere quibble.

 

See How We Roll is more than an anthropological treatise. It is a window into issues of enduring salience and importance to policymakers. It doesn’t offer solutions, it doesn’t argue for particular policies, but it certainly allows those of us whose knowledge and experience of Aboriginal social, economic, and political realities is thin to gain a better appreciation of what is at stake when policies directed at reshaping Indigenous lives are promulgated unilaterally and from ‘on high’.

 

Ultimately, Hinkson challenges policymakers, and the nation generally, to look harder at the underlying constraints on Indigenous lives, and our own responses to Indigenous life choices, and to truly ‘see’ how ‘we’ roll.

 

 

 

See How We Roll was published by Duke University Press in 2021.

Energy insecurity in remote Australia

 

An extraordinarily important recent article published in the online journal Nature Energy (link here) raises serious questions regarding the current policy settings related to access to energy in remote communities.

 

The article titled Energy insecurity during temperature extremes in remote Australia assesses the prevalence of power shutdowns across 28 remote NT communities involving 3300 households during 2018-19.

 

The article is significant because it combines sophisticated statistical analysis, contextualised within a detailed exegesis of the prevalence of climate extremes, as well as by an outline of the underpinnings of energy injustice in remote Australia. It is not my intention to attempt to summarise the argument, but rather I merely aim to cherry pick some (but not all) of the policy issues raised in the paper.

 

The executive summary states, inter alia:

Indigenous communities in remote Australia face dangerous temperature extremes. These extremes are associated with increased risk of mortality and ill health. For many households, temperature extremes increase both their reliance on those services that energy provides, and the risk of those services being disconnected. Poor quality housing, low incomes, poor health and energy insecurity associated with prepayment all exacerbate the risk of temperature-related harm … We find that nearly all households (91%) experienced a disconnection from electricity during the 2018–2019 financial year. Almost three quarters of households (74%) were disconnected more than ten times. … A broad suite of interrelated policy responses is required to reduce the frequency, duration and negative effects of disconnection from electricity for remote-living Indigenous residents.

 

The total disconnection event numbers are staggering, totalling 170,226 for the 3300 households. Over 14,000 were multi-day disconnections. These figures underestimate the number of remote community disconnections as there are more households using prepayment metering than are represented in the study.

 

The article notes that over the course of the year, 49,000 disconnection events (or 29%) occurred during hot and cold temperature extremes. In the three hottest climate zones in Australia, between 4.5 and 9.1 percent of all deaths were associated with heat related mortality, much higher than the 2% figure in the rest of Australia.

 

The authors mention, but do not explore in detail, the policy issues which underpin the use of the prepaid metering systems. Nor are the adverse health, social, economic and educational consequences explored in detail, although the article does mention some potential (technical) policy responses available to governments to mitigate the adverse impacts of disconnections, including the installation of rooftop solar systems, and adjustments to ensure refrigeration, and medical equipment continues to operate through a disconnection event.

 

The evidence presented reinforces the depth and extent of systemic disadvantage facing remote communities. Energy disconnection plays into health issues; exacerbates overcrowding (as residents move to houses where power is still available); contributes to the challenges school age children face in maintaining attendance and homework schedules from overcrowded shelters without access to regular power; raises issues regarding food security (and all that involves), and points to a widespread and deep lack of access to sustained financial literacy training for remote communities and their residents. All of these issues are arguably the responsibility of the NT Government.

 

Under the Closing the Gap National Partnership, each jurisdiction prepares an Implementation Plan to guide its activities across the Board. The NT Government Implementation plan is available online (link here), but upon my quick examination, provides virtually no indication that there will be any focus on addressing the tangible systemic issues identified above arising from ongoing energy disconnection issues. This in itself is an indicator that the current Implementation Plans under the National Partnership are not fit for purpose. That however is an issue beyond the scope of this post.

 

While the NTG clearly has a major role in addressing these issues, so too does the Australian Government for two substantive reasons.

 

First, while the article make no mention of it, the potential link between hyper-excessive energy disconnections and the history of hyper excessive social security breaches (let’s call them CDP disconnections) leading to hyper variability in access to social security income is impossible to ignore. ANU academics cited estimates that pre-pandemic, the remote CDP program inflicted over 500,000 penalties on its 30,000 participants over four years (link here). The CDP scheme is currently undergoing a slow, phased, reconfiguration, after the Government announced it is to be co-designed with Indigenous interests following the completion of some pilot programs set to begin in late 2021. The positive changes to income support payments in the first year of the Covid pandemic may well have lessened the rate of energy disconnections in the last two years, but these will likely increase as fiscal normality returns and temperatures rise.

 

The second reason the Australian Government is involved is that it is a significant contributor financially to the NT remote housing sector, given that many of the housing leases are held by the Australian Government and not the NTG (link here).

 

Over and above these substantive policy responsibilities, the Australian Government has a national responsibility to oversight the complex Indigenous policy domain. The fact that the current Government resists this framing does not weaken its logical and political force. Why else did the Australian electorate vote in 1967 to give the Australian Government legislative responsibility for Indigenous affairs under the constitution? Such a national perspective is important because while the NatureEnergy article relates only to the NT, it seems likely that similar systemic energy security issues will apply in other parts of remote Australia, albeit perhaps with differing characteristics depending upon the extent to which remote communities elsewhere utilise prepaid energy systems.

 

One obvious step would be to commission the CSIRO to undertake a more policy oriented status report on the current state of play nationally. Another would be to substantially increase the investment in remote housing, including in ancillary infrastructure such as solar power systems. A third would be to expedite the work on redesigning the remote income support systems.

 

If the Australian Government is not prepared to step up and initiate this work unilaterally, then the Coalition of Peaks would be wise to utilise its access via the Joint Council established under the National Partnership to pressure all jurisdictions to do more. The case for immediate action is unassailable.

 

 

The formal citation for the article which prompted this post is:

Longden, T., Quilty, S., Riley, B. et al. Energy insecurity during temperature extremes in remote Australia. Nat Energy (2021). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41560-021-00942-2