Writers for The Voice

You may or may not know that on 14 October, Australia will hold a referendum to officially recognise Indigenous Australians in the constitution for the first time and give them a say in the policies and challenges that affect their communities.

I will be voting YES. Because, despite what the No camp would have people believe, the question being put forward in the referendum is not problematic or complicated. We are simply being asked if we think the Australian constitution should recognise the First Peoples of this country by giving them some say - the ability to advise - on issues that affect them. How can the answer to that question be anything other than YES?

I have proudly joined Writers for The Voice with over 600 other writers, as well as publishers, literary bodies and festivals, from all over Australia who will be voting YES in the referendum, and who want to see our nation step into a stronger, better and more inclusive future.

There are so many reasons to vote YES but one of the most compelling ones is that it will lead to practical improvements in Indigenous housing, education and health because, for the first time, laws and policies on these issues will have proper input from Indigenous people. There is already evidence that health and education outcomes for Indigenous Australians will improve.

Most of all, the hope, healing and progress that the Voice offers is really a defining moment for this country. We can’t undo the wrongs of the past but this official respect and recognition of our First Peoples is long overdue. It’s time to listen, to unite and to move forward together.

For me, there is only YES. Not only because I would support anything that gives our First Peoples more respect, dignity and agency but this is a remarkable opportunity to step up and be the nation I believe we are, to move towards genuine hope and reconciliation. I am no political scientist but I am a historian (in training) and whether we like it or not, history repeats unless we actively break the cycle and embrace change. The past has so many dark lessons that we can choose, as a collective, to learn from. We cannot change the past, but we can work towards changing the narrative of our country. This is a moment history will remember. It’s a turning point, a precious chance for true dialogue, based on recognition and respect, to begin.

I think Professor Marcia Langton said it best:

“In this referendum, there are only two options: a ‘Yes’ vote that delivers recognition through a voice and all the hope and healing is represents...or a ‘No’ vote which binds us all closely - all of us - to a broken status quo.”

— Professor Marcia Langton AO

The Uluru Statement from the Heart is a gentle and courteous invitation to non Indigenous Australians to walk together with our First Peoples to help secure a better future for them. Why on earth would we say no to that?

The only answer is YES.

'We are in an attention crisis': interview on ABC Radio Hobart

Photo by Tom Schoon

Today I was invited on to ABC Radio Hobart to speak with Leon Compton about quitting social media and how it’s going, 18 months later and counting!

Elon Musk couldn’t have timed his “rebrand” of Twitter better if he’d tried. I was horrified (though unsurprised) at the idea of him “cutting the Twitter logo off the building with blowtorches” (first of all, you don’t cut with a blowtorch, you… burn!). Honestly, could the man be any more of a cartoon villain? Every time there is yet another drama at Musk HQ or the Zuckerverse, I feel like I had a lucky escape.

It’s always fun to visit the ABC and I really enjoyed talking to Leon. We talked a lot about the impact of my decision to quit social media on my writing and creativity, which was great fun! Faithful readers, it won’t be anything you haven’t heard me say before but if you’re curious, check out the recording!

I’ve also written several blog posts, and an article that was published in The Guardian in May 2023, about the journey I’ve had quitting social media:

• How it started as an experiment

• How it was going, four months in

• Six months off social media

• “In the year since I quit social media, my screen time has fallen, my mood is up - even my resting heart rate is lower - my Guardian article

• 15 months later, and the response to my Guardian article

my thoughts on quitting social media in THE GUARDIAN!

A few months ago, I started writing a blog post about my decision to step away from my personal social media accounts, the many drastic changes I had noticed in myself and how I was feeling about the decision, over a year later.

Reflecting on everything I’d learned over the year, I was particularly taken by many ideas put forward in Johann Hari’s Stolen Focus which I read towards the end of 2022. Stolen Focus showed me social media is not the only problem contributing to the attention crisis. One of the key messages of Hari’s whole thesis could be summed up by this paragraph:

…the truth is more complicated. The arrival of the smartphone would always have increased to some degree the number of distractions in life, to be sure, but a great deal of the damage to our attention spans is being caused by something more subtle. It’s not the smartphone in and of itself; it is the way the apps on the smartphone and the sites on our laptops are designed. (p.123)

Social media is addictive, because they have designed it to be. So, essentially, what I’d broken was an addiction. And when you resist any kind of addiction, you are up against a powerful force.

This is something I also hadn’t appreciated until I read Johann Hari’s book, which demonstrates that both governments and tech giants have left the responsibility for solving this crisis firmly with the individual. Why should they impose safeguards or make platforms less addictive - the individual should take responsibility for how often they’re on their phone, limit their use, just delete the apps, etc. The truth is it’s really not that simple for most people, hence why this needs a collective, systemic solution rather than telling people they just need to be more disciplined and take control of their lives. It’s like beating any other addiction - you need support, accountability and proof that it is possible. Therefore, Hari suggests, people like me who have managed to successfully step away probably need to be the strongest voice for change.

So after I wrote my blog post, and was about to hit publish, I thought…I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels this way. Why not reach a bit higher? (that’s also been a noticeable change since I stepped away from social media - aiming higher and having the courage to put my hat in the ring!)

So I pitched the idea to Guardian Australia, who said yes, and the Thursday before last, it went live!

The response has been really fantastic. I am so thrilled that people have engaged with the spirit of my experiment and even been inspired to try it themselves! I have had some really lovely messages from people all over the world who have generously shared their experiences and opinions with me. It’s been so deeply comforting to know that it's not just me who found the rage and anxiety of social media untenable.

I have felt more seen and heard with the publication of this article than with anything I ever posted on social media! It is very clear to me where my energy is best spent now.

Honestly, quitting social media is one of the best things I’ve ever done. I wasn’t getting the value out of it that I might once have, all it was doing was making me feel anxious, stressed and unworthy. Without it, I have a lightness of spirit that I possibly haven’t felt since I was a child. I have felt freer, more confident, more connected, less influenced and less alone.

I really hope that more and more people realise that we do have a choice and maybe if we vote with our feet (or our delete button), the tech giants will be forced to make some changes. I feel relieved and grateful that I've been able to step out of it and gain some sense of balance and perspective.

While there have been a few downsides, which have been tricky to negotiate at times, I have loved this experiment. It has felt, and continues to feel, exciting and authentic and even a little bit rebellious to have opted out, to not be following the crowd. I have really loved blogging again too and intend to continue as I have been.

If what I’ve shared here doesn’t resonate with you, that’s absolutely fine. I realise that there are people out there who are brilliant at social media and at managing their emotions around it - it doesn’t have the same mental impact on them as it has on me and many others. That’s great! Humans are complicated beings and we are allowed to be different and inconsistent, stronger in some things than in others. Perhaps, like Leonie Dawson, I may return one day. After all, nothing is ever set in stone and our needs and values evolve over time.

The past year away from social media has taught me a lot. I feel stronger for all the lessons learned. I feel enlightened and more curious about the world. And I am committed to doing whatever feels most right for me in the current moment. My only job, as Elizabeth Gilbert once sagely advised me, is to serve my creativity. And right now, my creativity is best served by keeping on doing what I’m doing!

I look forward to continuing to sharing this journey with you, wherever it takes me. Let me know what you think of the article!

"But you can’t make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up under them." - Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Please note: this blog post has affiliate links with retailers such as Booktopia which means I may receive a commission for a sale that I refer, at no extra cost to you.

dumplings and change

The face of someone who had been anticipating Melbourne dumplings for some years.

On our first night in Melbourne, we made a pilgrimage to my old favourite haunt from the days when I lived in this city - the Shanghai Dumpling House. An unremarkable building down Tattersalls Lane but within lurked the most glorious treasures imaginable.

From September 2005 to April 2007, you would find me there at least one night a week (and maybe one lunchtime too). Such was the lure of dumplings. And I loved the rough-and-ready atmosphere, completely devoid of pretension. It was a place I sought refuge in, for the stomach and the soul.  

At age 25, I felt so alive and powerful in this city, like anything was possible. I loved Melbourne and it loved me right back. While the city changed a lot in the years since I’d been gone, the dumpling house was like a little time portal, exactly the place I remembered. The menus, the tables, the staff, the prices, the urns of tea, the vats of chilli soy sauce, the strange 90s music they played...it was all still the same, every time I returned.

But on our return this time, it had changed. Nothing bad, the food was still yummy, but just lots of those little details were different, which means it is not the place 25 year old Phil frequented any more. That place only exists in my memory now. To not want to claim this space and ritual for myself anymore means acknowledging how much time has passed. While the dumplings were still good, I realised I was now just going there out of nostalgia, nothing more. And that was a surprisingly sad revelation. I guess we’ve all been there, revisiting somewhere that meant so much to us in years past, only to find it doesn’t quite stir the same emotions in us any more. But that’s good, it means we’ve changed. And change is life. 

So, on a friend’s recommendation, the following night we tried another dumpling and noodle house...which was a divinely delicious experience. If you’ve been to the Nong Tang Noodle House and had these chilli oil dumplings, you’ll understand.

So, it would seem that when the time is right, it’s surprisingly easy to move on, grateful for the memories but ready for something new. Especially if it involves chilli.

january

I always find January a mixed month, no matter what part of the world I'm in.

Everything about my life is different now, and I've been reading many books - including one on parenting, but it was written by one of my favourite psychotherapy writers and I'll read anything she writes! (sidenote: it’s fantastic, I learned so much reading it and would highly recommend it) - that have all had the same themes in common....surrender. Listen to your feelings and honour them. And invest time in doing the right but hard thing, not the comfortable thing.

To be honest, being back in Australia has brought up a lot of discomfort for me.

I spent the first days of January scrambling around, full of raw vulnerability, feeling panicked and desperate to regain control, recreate the life we used to have with walls, boundaries, safety. The armour I had on in London, and the distance that kept me safe, is gone and I didn't know what to do without it. But all the reading and self-reflecting I've done has helped me see that being flexible and accepting will be a far better use of my time than trying to reclaim what we've left behind.

So, for the first time, I am not running away.

Instead, I’ve been leaning in to the discomfort. When unresolved sadness and anger from the past has presented itself, I’ve tried to welcome it and give myself what I couldn’t give at the time. But there have been moments where that has been excruciating. A few wounds are still raw. Wounds reaching back, far back, perhaps they are my earliest memories - not things I logically remember but deeply rooted within me on a soul level, things that formed my perception of myself, that were the foundation of my deepest fears. It’s been quite exhausting, so I’ve needed a lot of rest and gentleness.

But even though I’ve felt frightened, sad and very vulnerable at times, I’ve also felt very loved. I’m back with my people. Being home is a lot of fun. Tom and I are soaking up all the things that make this place wonderful and why we wanted so very much to be here - the fresh air, the clear waters, the endless expanse of sky and beach and mountain, the raucous birdsong, the warmth of the sun, the friendliness of the people (seriously, people in Hobart are SO nice!), the generosity of my family.

And I know deep in my core that this is exactly where we need to be.

As January is slowly turning into February, I feel calmer, more like myself and more secure that the woman I've become in the years I've been gone will quite like it here, back home. There is space for her here.