One in 4.3 Million

A 'rejuvenated' broadcaster

 Mike Bodnar looks back on a year of podcasting, and reflects on the value of speaking out loud...

There's no shortage of opportunities to get yourself heard these days - social media, as we all know (sometimes to our despair), is rife with gossip, news, opinions, thoughts, anger and, sadly, hate.

AI generated

Trolls used to be fairy-tale beings living under Scandi bridges; today they are vile ranters who yell, swear, and promise fire and brimstone on those they disagree with - those who have dared to post something contrary to their way of thinking. They still live under bridges though: the protective cover that social media gives them in the form of noms-de-plume - behind which they remain safely anonymous. They like to think of themselves as heroes, standard-bearers for those others who share their skewed perspectives. They like to think they, above all others, are right. And they are - usually far right.

So it could be argued that the Internet - and social media in particular - is to be avoided if you want to be heard dispassionately, or at least taken seriously. Not entirely true, because this doesn't take into account the power - and increasing popularity of - podcasts.

Listen when you like

Over the past decade, podcasts have experienced remarkable growth, transforming from a niche format into a mainstream media powerhouse. Advances in technology and the ubiquity of smartphones have played a pivotal role in this evolution. People now have easy access to a vast library of podcasts on a huge range of topics, from true crime and comedy to science and self-improvement. Streaming platforms such as Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and Google Podcasts have made discovery and listening seamless, contributing significantly to the medium's growth.

AI generated

Unlike other forms of media, podcasts are ideal for multitasking - they can be consumed during commutes, workouts, or household chores. This convenience has made them a staple for millions. Moreover, podcasts have given creators an opportunity to connect intimately with their audiences. The conversational tone of podcasts often fosters a sense of community, which keeps listeners coming back for more.

This has given rise to a New Age of broadcasters, and the low barrier to entry means anyone can start a podcast - become a broadcaster (or perhaps a better term for most would be narrowcaster) - leading to a surge in diverse voices and perspectives. As a result, podcasting has truly become a dynamic and influential medium in today's media landscape. But it's not the first.

Back to the Future

The opportunity afforded to diverse voices and perspectives is nothing new, at least not here in Aotearoa/New Zealand. 

As early as 1981, a medium aimed at giving a platform to diverse voices on a wide range of

subjects began in Wellington, New Zealand's capital. It was called Access Radio, and operated on an AM frequency, reaching a small and clearly defined local population. Sure, it wasn't the Internet - that was still over the horizon anyway - but in the 1980s, radio, especially community radio, was still strong, still popular. The arrival of Access Radio however, heralded the emergence of a non-commercial station, one which was by, for, and about its own local community. It wasn't about edgy breakfast shows, or drivetime commute music, or even news and weather on the hour; it was about people.

Image: Deviantart

Leap into your DeLorean and race forward 44 years, and today there are a dozen such Access stations throughout the country, but some things have changed. The stations still broadcast, but now on FM frequencies. More than that though, each station has its own Internet presence, its own website, through which absolutely anyone can listen regardless of distance from the station. So even if you live in Manchester, England, or Little Rock, Arkansas, you can easily listen to any Access Radio programme from New Zealand.

And it doesn't have to be live, because all Access programmes can be streamed as podcasts, joining an estimated 4.3 million podcasts available worldwide, and can be found on accessmedia.co.nz, a site that acts as a collective for the Access network.

As someone who worked in radio many years ago (decades, let's be frank, Ed.) it suddenly dawned on me that there was nothing stopping me from getting back behind the microphone. People had always said I had a great face for radio - here was the opportunity to do it again.

Walking the Talk

So a year ago, I joined Wellington Access Radio and began making my own programme. Better late then never.

Many Access programmes are ethnic, culture-driven productions, or religion-specific, maybe

niche music-oriented (bluegrass fans rejoice!), while some are topic-centric (climate change,  current affairs, local politics, etc). The one thing they have in common is that they are all 'by, for, and about' their communities - a requirement for the Access stations to qualify for funding support from the government agency New Zealand on Air. The viability of the stations is also bolstered through small broadcasting and membership fees (of which, more later), grants and donations, and sponsorship. 

So, if, for example, you visit the Wellington Access 'Shows & Podcasts' page online, you'll find over a hundred things to listen to. Including (promo time here) my own show, 'Mike On...'

At the age of mumbledy-something - let's just say 'a certain age' - I decided to make a fortnightly programme for a more mature audience, but in both senses of the word. Because of course, some people can be old beyond their years, so in my intro to the programme I emphasise that even though it's for listeners 'of a certain age,' it doesn't matter whether you're 16 or 96.

I decided on a chat-show format, and apart from two episodes, each programme has featured a guest who specialises in a certain field, or has a personal story to relate, or has some new and interesting research to share. I have deliberately avoided each episode being about something older age-related though; because while we might be in our (insert age group here)  it doesn't mean we want to listen only to programmes about older folk. So, in the past 12 months I have had guests talking about a wide range of topics, from the value of volunteering, to how the native tuatara (a reptile) survived the asteroid impact, through classic motor vehicle collecting, why New Zealanders avoid the news more than any other nation, to understanding the slang, acronyms and abbreviations of Gen. Z today. For that programme my guests were two 16-year-old high school students.

Image: Flickr

When my 24th episode hits the airwaves on Thursday 24 April (it's an ANZAC Day special featuring an interview with a D-Day veteran), 'Mike On...' will be celebrating its first full year on air. Happy birthday to me. And at my age, one candle is about all I can blow out anyway!

Measuring success

I could, of course, have done all this from my own home, like so many other podcasters, but Wellington Access Radio - along with all the other stations in the network - offers a focal point, a place where I can go and use professional equipment in a proper studio to record (or broadcast live if required) my programmes. I can mingle with other programme makers, and chat to (and get technical and marketing help from) the station staff.

It's not free, but it doesn't cost much, and there's a scale of fees appropriate to your own situation. I can tell you now that it costs me about NZ$52 per month. I could seek sponsorship if I wanted, but I'm trying to avoid a commercial tie-in situation. 

So how has it been going?

Measuring the audience. Image: Wikimedia

Let's put it this way: making a programme/podcast like this is the broadcast equivalent of self-publishing; I have created something, and I'm paying to get it 'out there,' just like an author might. 

Also like a self-published author, it's largely up to me to market my product. An author, for example publishing through Amazon's KDP platform, can spend as little or as much as they like on promoting their book.

With me, it's the same, but as with my two self-published books (to date), I can't afford to pay for promotion. What I do do, is share my programmes via Spotify Podcasts, iHeart radio Podcasts, and Apple Podcasts, in the hope of reaching as wide an audience as possible. I promote new programmes on social media, but I don't have many followers.

A benefit of using Spotify Podcasts is that I can see immediate and up-to-date analytics on my 'dashboard' showing exactly how many people have streamed my programmes. It's not many, I confess.

Access Radio does not get funding to cover annual or twice-yearly listener surveys such as commercial stations might be able to afford (and with which they can attract advertisers), so I have little way of knowing who, or how many people, listen. I need to be self-reliant in that respect; I need to be my own 'fan base.' Because to date I have directly received only one piece of unsought feedback. Just one. So let's talk some more on the subject of self-reliance.

The Role of Ego

There has been many a time in the past year when I've thought, why bother? What's the point of putting all this effort - and $52 a month - into making programmes that hardly anyone listens to?

AI generated

The answer is pride. I am - I have to be - proud of my product. I have to be independent of external acknowledgement and tell myself, it's okay, this is good. I learned about production values when I worked full-time in broadcasting, so I know what makes a good programme, and I apply that knowledge when making mine.

But because nobody else admires the programmes - at least not overtly - I have to do that myself. I have to constantly remind myself that these programmes could go on mainstream radio and not be out of place. (And along with the lack of feedback, I have, importantly, received no criticism either. I know... it could be argued that that just means nobody's listening!). But as I said at the start of this blog, ranters and trolls are always waiting in the wings to shoot you down. The fact that they haven't is at least a positive.

It's obvious from now having made over 20 programmes that the ones that attract the most listeners are those in which the person I've interviewed also promotes the programme to their own networks. For example, last September I broadcast an episode on assisted dying, based on an interview with a man who had been given less than six months to live and who had chosen to legally end his life.

A New Zealand assisted dying support organisation promoted the programme to their network, and hey presto: listeners! Not many, just 90 on Spotify, (although my blog on this blogsite on the same subject was read by over 650 people), and there's an unknown number who might have listened on Access Radio either live or as a podcast.

Ego is a double-edged sword; in the wrong hands, applied at an inappropriate time, it can earn you a reputation for being a big-head. But privately, when I just tell myself that my programmes are good quality, it does the job.

One in 4.3 million

As I mentioned, it's estimated that there are 4.3 million podcasts available globally, and that number will only rise. I have a lot of competition, and I'm not the only one making a chat show. There are even plenty of other podcasts called 'Mike On', dammit. But there are over 500 million podcast listeners, which is a healthy ratio, so I just need to attract some of them.

But now that I'm approaching my programme's first anniversary I can look back on 24 programmes well-made to a high standard. I can be satisfied that I've done it, I've proved to myself that it could be done, and I will carry on.

I know I'm just one programme/podcast in 4.3 million, but 'Mike On...' is damn good.

Have a listen sometime, and let me know what you think.

UFOs, Aliens, and The Truth

 

Mike Bodnar takes a rational look at aliens and UFO sightings, and asks, are they evidence of aliens, or is the truth still out there?

(Note: This blog is also available as a podcast on my radio programme 'Mike On...', on Spotify Podcasts) 

No, not real; AI-generated

In this blog I’m going to look at the possibility of alien life existing, both in the wider context of the universe and, closer to home, here on Earth.

It’s a controversial subject that, despite all the science we have at our disposal, still comes down to belief: whether you believe alien life exists elsewhere in the universe or not, because, as of right now we have no proof that it does.

And, equally controversially, we’ll discuss whether aliens have visited, or are indeed visiting, us here on Earth.

So, don your tin-foil hat, strap in and come along for the ride…

 

UFOs AND UAPs: WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

UFO:

The acronym UFO stands for "unidentified flying object" and originated in 1952 when Captain Edward J. Ruppelt of the United States Air Force used it to be more general than the term "flying saucer", which was popularly employed to describe mysterious objects in the sky after a 1947 sighting.

In June of that year, pilot Kenneth Arnold reported seeing "shiny, unidentifiable objects flying in the sky" near Mt. Rainier in Washington. His claim garnered a lot of media coverage and led to a craze about flying discs and saucers. The public lapped it up. At last! Aliens!

UAP:

The term "unidentified aerial phenomena" was first used in 1987, when it featured in an article about an "International Symposium on Unidentified Aerial Phenomena". However, the move from using UFO to UAP in mainstream media and debate really began in 2020, when the Pentagon established a Navy-led "UAP Task Force" to investigate reports of unexplained aerial phenomena.

Today, UAP is used to describe events in the air, sea, space, and, since 2022 - bizarrely - land, that cannot be immediately identified as aircraft or natural phenomena. The acronym UAP is now preferred over UFO because it's intended to avoid the assumptions and stigma associated with UFOs, such as alien visitors, and of course the attendant conspiracy theories. But that doesn't stop millions of people reporting having seen a 'UFO.'

THE PROBLEM WITH THE TERMINOLOGY

Greetings Earthlings! (Pinterest)

For decades, people have conflated the term UFO – and more recently UAPs – with alien lifeforms visiting earth.

When someone witnesses an unidentified flying object, that’s just what it is: something that appears to be flying or hovering in the air that isn’t immediately apparent as anything we know, and therefore can't immediately be explained. The same applies to UAPs.

But people, especially those with a leaning towards believing in aliens, like to leap to the conclusion that what they’ve seen is ‘evidence’ of aliens. It’s not, because despite all analysis and interpretation, it remains unidentified, and therefore is nothing more than mysterious.

People erroneously ask, 'Do you believe in UFOs?' There can only be one answer to that: Yes! Because there are, unquestionably, objects which have been seen in the air which are unidentified. No question. Whether they're alien spacecraft, well, that's a different question. 

THE ONGOING ISSUE

But here’s the ongoing issue: despite all the decades of UFO and UAP reports, despite all the investigations, despite the thousands of videos and photos of these phenomena, despite so-called eye-witness reports from people claiming to have been abducted by aliens, despite all of these, we do not have a shred of evidence that we have been, or are being visited, by aliens.

Well, that settles it (Oak Bay News)

For example, the number of videos and photos of UFOs/UAPs has dramatically increased in
the last 20 or more years because now everyone carries a camera with them, in the form of a mobile phone. And yet we still don’t have any top quality definitive footage or photos; instead we see blurry, out-of-focus things in the sky, with camera shake and much zooming in and out, often with no context (e.g. buildings, trees, skylines), and no solid definition.

Sure, some images and footage are better than others, and some look quite convincing, but absolutely nothing to date is proof that what we’re looking at is an alien craft. Ever since 1947, people have been throwing hubcaps into the sky and photographing them, claiming they've captured a flying saucer. If something becomes fashionable, a hoax is sure to follow.

But wouldn’t you think, with everyone carrying a camera, that by now someone, someone, would have captured some really decent images or footage? Well, no.

And the arrival of Artificial Intelligence in creating images and video now just compounds the issue, because we have to be extra vigilant to determine what’s real and what’s AI-generated. The days of throwing hubcaps are over. The days of fake news is still here.

THE PENTAGON

(Image: Wikipedia)

There was great excitement just a few years ago when the Pentagon released an official report on Unidentified Aerial Phenomena.

However, the nine-page preliminary report basically said what I’ve just said: that despite all the so-called evidence, no conclusions about alien visitations can be reached. Of more concern, it says, is that there are unexplained phenomena in the skies which could pose a threat to the US simply by their unknowable nature.

Deputy Secretary of Defence, Kathleen Hicks, issued a memo following the report's release, saying that it highlights the problem of flight hazards near military training ranges. Also the report highlighted dangers to military pilots, so in that respect it’s more of a health and safety document than a definitive conclusive  treatise on alien spacecraft.

So again, despite official investigation, we still have nothing conclusive to say aliens are behind the phenomena of UAPs.

Which, of course, gives rise to conspiracy theories, where people claim that aliens have been on Earth for decades but that governments are covering up their existence.

THE BIG COVER-UP

So let’s look at that. Why would governments hide such a momentous discovery? Why, if alien technology was available to us, have we not adopted it or adapted to our advantage? Where, for example, are our own flying saucers, and why do NASA and other space agencies spend billions of dollars in their efforts to get things to orbit or to the moon if we actually have the technology to fly there almost instantaneously?

Big firework. (Image: Daily Pioneer)

Because, let’s face it, if aliens have come here then it’s likely from far beyond our own solar system, which means they presumably have conquered faster-than-light travel. Which also means they must be incredibly advanced. And yet, we’re still lighting the touch-paper on rockets and standing back to watch them burn clumsily into space.

There could be an argument that announcing the existence of aliens would have a huge and negative impact on religion - that people’s belief systems and faith could be shattered, knowing that God must have created other beings elsewhere. That maybe Adam and Eve weren’t the only ones to kickstart life on Earth. It would certainly be a blow to the church, and a massive test of faith for billions of people. So yes, maybe that’s one reason for keeping aliens quiet.

But let’s say, just for a moment, that aliens have come here, or are here. We have to ask why, and what is their purpose?

THE PRIME DIRECTIVE

If you’re a Star Trek fan you’ll know that the Prime Directive of Star Fleet is basically that if you encounter an alien civilization, you don’t interfere with it or even announce your presence, unless that civilization has also reached a technological level whereby it is capable of and fully understands space travel and the existence of other civilizations in the universe. It could be argued we’re not there yet because, as I mentioned earlier, we’re still launching solid fuel rockets, which technologically is not much beyond letting off fireworks.

Alien nudist (Image: Dreamstime)

The Prime Directive is science fiction, but an advanced alien race would, presumably, have deep wisdom central to its missions. Wisely, an alien race who discovered Earth was inhabited, would keep at a distance while gathering and analysing all it could, and it could do this of course by monitoring all our radio and TV broadcasts (poor things!) and browsing the Internet.

The prospect of aliens having to sit through episodes of Neighbours or American Idol doesn’t bear thinking about though.

But they wouldn’t have to fly mysteriously through our skies, or create fuzzy flashing lights in the night sky, or appear at 3 a.m. at the end of your bed waving a threatening probing finger at you.

Nor would they necessarily appear as big-eyed little green or silver men, usually without spacesuits or even clothing, which seems to be the norm from alien encounter reports!

I mean, seriously, do you really think an advanced alien race is going to explore the galaxy stark naked? I don’t think so.

And, if they are here, would they even be humanoid in form? 

BODY OF EVIDENCE

So here’s the thing: ever since science fiction became a literary genre, followed by sci-fi films and television, many - if  not most - of the aliens have been humanoid. A head, torso, two arms, two legs. In cinematic terms we can understand this because it enables the studio wardrobe department to simply make a costume into which an actor steps or is zipped up in. Look at early, even current, Dr. Who episodes, featuring the cybermen, the Ood, the Autons, the Slitheen, the Sontarans, and so on. Star Trek is just as guilty, and so are many others (Lost in Space, the original TV series, I'm looking at you...).

But most of the so-called real-life alien encounters have also been with humanoids: little green

A Dr. Who alien. (Image: BBC)

men, skeletal tall figures, and so on.

The thing is, there’s nothing to say that aliens will, if they exist (and we’ll come to the chances of that in a moment), should look anything like us. In fact, they could be in a form we don’t even recognise, and could – as some conspiracy theorists believe - be among us right now.

How (you’re asking)? Seriously?  Surely we’d know if the Lizard People walked among us? Well, I’m not talking about people. One of my favourite alien types are the Eldil. They featured in C. S. Lewis’s sci-fi novel Out of the Silent Planet, and, according to Wikipedia, 'they are made of exotic matter and appear as faint light that humans can barely see.' In fact, you have to look away from them to see them, where they appear in your peripheral vision.

But again, that’s science fiction. Let’s look at a real race of beings that can be everywhere all the time, yet invisible. It’s true. They exist... and we are they.

LIFE JIM, BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT

Submitted for your approval (cue Twilight Zone theme tune), one human race and one sub-set of that, a race of pygmies in an isolated jungle. These pygmies have never had contact with civilization, have never met another human being, and yet evidence of our existence is all around them every minute of every day. Our existence passes through their jungle village constantly, yet they cannot see or hear us, because, they do not have the technology to pick up radio waves or TV signals, or Wi-Fi. If they did they could abandon their dugout canoes and sit in their huts watching Grand Designs or the Great British Bake-Off.

But they don’t have the technology. They don’t even know the technology exists!

So what’s to say that we humans, we so-called civilized humans, also don’t have the technology to identify evidence of an alien race, simply because we can’t pick up their signals? That we just don’t know how to?

We're listening... (Image: Wikipedia)

It’s not for lack of trying; for decades we’ve been attempting to find signals from outer space, something regular, something meaningful that indicates a sentient source, or even sends us a message. Despite all the radio telescopes and the efforts, we haven’t. Sure, there have been strange noises, the odd 'Wow! moment, but most it turns out are made by stars, or colliding galaxies, or other astronomical events far distant. Or nearby microwave ovens.

So maybe we’re not listening with the right equipment. Maybe we haven’t even thought of it yet. So we could be those pygmies, here on Earth, living in a relative galactic stone age.

I recently read Andy Weir’s sci-fi novel Project Hail Mary, in which he proposes an alien race of microbes, and another of a sort of arachnids-slash-slaters who are basically blind, yet have developed space travel. Weir is more famous for having written The Martian, which was made into a movie starring Matt Damon as an astronaut stranded on Mars, but I liked the aliens in Hail Mary for being different.

Yet here we are, overflowing with reports of UFOs or UAPs and aliens in humanoid form, usually intergalactic nudists. We need to stretch our imaginations a bit more.

SO WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

Finally, let’s come to the crux of the matter (that’s an astronomical pun only southern hemisphere stargazers will get): If aliens exist, where are they?

This question is called The Fermi Paradox: The Fermi Paradox is 'the discrepancy between the lack of conclusive evidence of advanced extraterrestrial life and the apparently high likelihood of its existence.'

Where is everybody? (Image: Pinterest)

That’s from Wikipedia, which goes on to say: 'Those affirming the paradox generally conclude
that if the conditions required for life to arise from non-living matter are as permissive as the available evidence on Earth indicates, then extraterrestrial life would be sufficiently common such that it would be implausible for it not to have been detected yet.'

In short, if what we’ve witnessed about the emergence and development of life on Earth is typical, then given the estimated large number of so-called habitable planets in the universe, where the hell is everybody? The Italian-American physicist Enrico Fermi asked this in 1950, and it hasn’t been answered yet.

But almost every week another star with planets orbiting it is discovered by astronomers as our technology gets better and better, so the evidence is mounting that many, many such planets exist. In fact they're quite common. But there is however absolutely no evidence that any advanced alien races exist.

Wikipeida sums up the contradiction thus:

'The following are some of the facts and hypotheses that together serve to highlight the apparent contradiction:

•      There are billions of stars in the Milky Way similar to the Sun.
•      With high probability, some of these stars have Earth-like planets in a circumstellar habitable zone.
•      Many of these stars, and hence their planets, are much older than the Sun. If Earth-like planets are typical, some may have developed intelligent life long ago.
•      Some of these civilizations may have developed interstellar travel, a step that humans are investigating now.
•      Even at the slow pace of currently envisioned interstellar travel, the Milky Way galaxy could be completely traversed in a few million years.
•      Since many of the Sun-like stars are billions of years older than the Sun, the Earth should have already been visited by extraterrestrial civilizations, or at least their probes.

·     However, there is no convincing evidence that this has happened.'

I WANT TO BELIEVE…

So where does that leave us? It leaves us right where we started: despite all the research, the reports and the analysis, there’s not a shred of evidence that an advanced alien race exists anywhere, or has visited us, or is here now.

But, as I said, maybe we just don’t know how to look for them yet. I believe we should keep trying.

When I was around ages 12, 13 and 14, I desperately wanted aliens to exist, partly because I was a science fiction fan already, but also because I’d had my own UFO sighting.

(Mulder and Scully, The X-Files (Image: New Republic)

It was in the night sky above Liverpool, my home city, and I was out with my mum walking the dog. Suddenly, in the sky to the west I saw a V-formation of lights. I can’t remember now how many, but you need at least three for a v-formation, and I think there might have been five. They were moving together at a steady pace and eventually went out of sight.

Indeed, there were reports in the paper from others who had seen them, and an official excuse from the air force followed, saying that it was nothing more than an aircraft refuelling exercise.

Seriously? A refuelling exercise over a major city? I don’t think so. But, I never discovered anything more.

Another, spookier encounter I had, was about 16 or maybe even 20 years ago here in New Zealand. I was out in the garden on a starry night, looking at the sky, when suddenly a dark shape, and I mean a pitch black shape, passed across the stars at a steady and measured pace. So black it was like a void, or something that consumed light.

There were no navigation lights, no sound, just a shadow obscuring the stars as it passed across the sky. I have no idea how high it was.

Yes, it obviously could have been a bird, though there appeared to be no flapping.

All I can say is, I’d like a copy of the poster that used to hang in Mulder’s basement office in the X-Files, the one with a flying saucer and the words, I Want To Believe.

And I do want to believe, it’s just that I also want the evidence, and I haven’t seen it yet, which for me, after over 60 years of keeping my fingers crossed, watching the skies, and reading and looking at reports of unexplained phenomena, is disappointing.

I do believe the truth is out there. It’s just not here. Yet.

 

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Ninety Seconds to Midnight

Is New Zealand really safe from a northern hemisphere nuclear war? Mike Bodnar has his finger on the button. (Caution: some content my disturb)

The unthinkable...

The Doomsday Clock is still appallingly close to midnight - just 90 seconds away as I write this. And with every slow blink of Putin's dead eyes, every threat he makes about destroying the West, the nearer to midnight we get. Tick...tick...

Of course, the clock is just a metaphor, but it's one scientists have employed since 1947, and it's an ever-present reminder that the end of the world really is nigh. And getting nigher.

So it should come as no surprise that some billionaires - or if not billionaires, then at least people wealthy enough anyway - have, over the years, been buying properties in New Zealand, seeing it as a safe haven in the event that conflicts in the northern hemisphere turn to actual nuclear custard. They don't always admit that of course.

Some of them have bought existing homesteads, others land with the declared aim of developing their own golf courses (i.e. bunkers) - either way, places to flee to and hunker down in, in the event of Armageddon up north. 

Those people who already live in New Zealand - a smidgen over five million, including me - already know that our country is far removed from a devastating conflict in the northern hemisphere. In fact the country is virtually as far away as you can get, barring maybe Tierra del Fuego or the various outposts in Antarctica. In every practical sense, Aotearoa/New Zealand is the most distant from Doomsday. And therefore, many believe, safe, secure, and an ideal haven to escape to in 'the event.'

Plenty for everyone, except vegetarians...

I mean look: New Zealand could probably be self-sufficient as far as food is concerned - there are currently 4.6 sheep per person, and fertile land a-plenty to grow crops and vegetables. The country is ever-so slightly bigger than the UK, so there's plenty of room. Britain for example supports a population of about 68 million.

But looking at food this way is naïve; dairy and beef farming require all manner of management, and, importantly, veterinary supplies. Some of these are imported, so the supply of veterinary medicines from overseas would likely dry up overnight should Putin push the nuclear button. Or any other world leader with nuclear capability for that matter.

End of the road for vehicles

And the distribution of food - even if abattoirs could remain functioning - would also be an issue. At any one moment, New Zealand's fuel supplies would last only a few weeks if imports of petroleum products were to cease - which they would in the event of a nuclear holocaust. New Zealand is not self-sufficient in this respect. Therefore, trucks, rail transport, air freight, all would grind to a halt after a short time. The daily milk tankers would no longer visit the farms. The abattoirs - even assuming electricity to power them continued - could not distribute the meat they produced, and anyway, the stock trucks that bring the cattle and sheep to the abattoirs would also stop running when the fuel ran out. So how many sheep we have is irrelevant. 

On the plus side, New Zealanders have a reputation for being creative, partly based on the fact that for the first 140 or so years of European settlement, many farms were by nature rural, isolated, so if something mechanical went wrong it would often be the farmer who would have to fix it, until (hopefully) parts could be obtained. The saying was that a Kiwi farmer could metaphorically fix anything with a piece of 'number eight fencing wire,' and there's some truth in that. In the first half of the 20th century, vehicle imports were expensive and rare, so a tractor or other farm vehicle was kept running for as long as possible, and often long after the manufacturer designed it for. Such resourcefulness would be needed again, by the digger-load.

The 1987 report

A report released in 1987, called New Zealand After Nuclear War (Wren Green et al), commissioned by the New Zealand Planning Council, delved into the impacts on the country of a largely northern hemisphere nuclear conflict. It does not make for pleasant reading.

In short, the report says that people would likely panic about radiation reaching New Zealand, causing radiation sickness, cancers and so on. But the chances of that happening, the findings reveal, are slim, and a minor increase in radiation would have hardly any impact. The biggest challenge would be people not getting up-to-date information on the issue, and therefore suffering needlessly from radiation anxiety.

Because, of course, communication would suffer. The report investigates at some length the impacts of an EMP - an electromagnetic pulse - where a nuclear device is triggered much higher up in the atmosphere causing widespread failure of electronics below, and over a very wide area. An EMP exploded over Sydney, Australia, for example could well have an impact on New Zealand's communication infrastructure also, particularly radio and television.

When the report was released - 1987 - the Internet was hardly a blip on the technological radar, so in the study, the effects of an EMP do not cover our reliance today on the Internet: texts, mobile phones, bluetooth, Wi-Fi, banking, and so on. It's safe to assume, however, that these would all be compromised in the event of an EMP. If an electromagnetic pulse did not affect us, then perhaps the nation's communications would remain operative, and would enable central and local governments to issue relevant information, warnings, and advice. Until technology such as cellphone towers started to fail and could not be repaired due to lack of parts.

Geothermal power in New Zealand

As for energy, well, New Zealand might just get away with it, as the country is approximately 74% self-sufficient, and is lucky enough to have hydro, geothermal, solar, wind, and coal-fired power available. It's likely that power would have to be rationed in some way, and blackouts could be an issue. Again, as with communication, once the generation technology began to fail (e.g. wind turbines failing, hydro generators ditto), would New Zealand have the wherewithal to fix things? Would a piece of number eight fence wire rescue the national grid?

The 1987 report looks into the effects of a nuclear winter on the country. Smoke in the northern hemisphere atmosphere (from potentially thousands of fires caused by hundreds of nuclear bomb explosions) would, for the large part, stay in the northern hemisphere, although some could drift south. Even a minor reduction in sunlight though would have an effect on Kiwi crops, especially those most sensitive to cold, so the supply of vegetables, grain crops and so on could be compromised, at least for a couple of years. Again, rationing might be necessary.

Possible crop failure

How are our American billionaires faring in their bunkers now? They can't stockpile everything they need, no matter how many You Tube prepper videos they've watched. Without fuel they can't go anywhere. Without deliveries they can't receive any supplies. And unless their bunkers are powered by wind and/or solar, their electricity won't last forever. In short, they are not much better off than the rest of us. And their wealth is meaningless.

The 1987 New Zealand After Nuclear War report needs a new edition in light of today's technologies and our reliance on them in particular, but also there needs to be a much deeper dive into the impacts on us as a society cut off from the rest of the world, and the national angst, despair and helplessness that many are likely to feel.

While the report does touch on the prospect of societal distress, it also predicts the impacts of refugees arriving on our shores and the diseases they might bring with them. The country would likely not have the ability to quarantine new arrivals for testing, even if the appropriate test kits were available. But in any case, would refugees be welcome while the population is in meltdown? 

New Zealand society would be in great danger of breaking down in the event of a northern hemisphere nuclear war. It's likely that the consensus would be that we would have enough problems of our own, let alone coping with those who somehow managed to flee the conflicts. They wouldn't be turned away, but offers of help and compassion could be thin on the ground with our own society in disarray.

Cash would be king again

For example, if we were to suffer the effects of an EMP, our banking system would likely
collapse. Cash would become king again, and those who stored actual dollars under their mattresses might well be the new wealthy. But there might also be a new definition of currency and of wealth; suddenly, the value of certain items would shoot up, while others would be rendered worthless. Vehicles, for example, would be useless without fuel; no matter whether it's a Rolls Royce or an old Morris Minor, they'd be worth the same: nothing.

Bicycles and horses on the other hand? Well, they'd be worth their weight in gold (except gold might not be worth much either...). Horse riding equipment - saddles especially, reins and so on, would become very valuable. The same would apply to carts and other wheeled things that could be pulled by horses. Boats, especially yachts which rely only on the wind for propulsion, would be priceless. Fishing equipment - rods, reels, lines, hooks, nets... all worth a fortune in terms of survival. 

And, sadly, weapons would become a must-have for many people, especially those wishing to defend their properties and possessions against raiders. 

Rural properties become very desirable

Raiders? Certainly. The 1987 report briefly notes that it would be rural properties - those with land for growing their own vegetables, perhaps running chickens, maybe with goats for milk, perhaps wind and solar for power - that would be the most desirable. Anyone currently living off-grid will know this. So (although the report doesn't mention this) once food starts to run out in the cities and towns, people would begin to seek alternative sources of food. It's not inconceivable that raiding parties might be organised by certain groups, who would set out to find these country havens of self-sufficiency, with the aim of taking them over for themselves. There could even be a mass migration of people out to rural areas, simply because the supply systems within cities and towns would have broken down. Therefore, rural property owners who were not prepared to accommodate refugees from the urban areas would need to be ready to defend themselves. With what?

Crossbow: a weapon of choice

Guns, yes, but they would be useful only as long as you had ammunition. Crossbows on the other hand, where a bolt could be retrieved from a fallen target and used again and again, would be a weapon of choice for many. Slingshots ditto, because there would be stones aplenty for ammo. Pitchforks, machetes and knives for close-quarter fighting. Battery acid in squirtable containers. It's all horrifying to contemplate, but it's something we should be thinking about - and it's likely something the billionaires have not considered. You can't hide behind a bank balance.

My research does not show up anything that suggests New Zealand is officially prepared for survival in the event of a northern hemisphere nuclear war. There appears to be a lack of policy in this respect, and any contingency planning for disasters is geared far more (and some would argue rightly so) towards natural hazards such as earthquakes, flooding, volcanoes, and tsunamis. We have alert systems in place for these, and contingency planning for all of them. We are prepared for natural disasters.

Goodnight Vienna (and everywhere else...)

My own belief is that New Zealand society would undergo a huge upheaval if the Doomsday Clock ticked through to midnight and the northern hemisphere experienced a major nuclear conflict, but that it would, after a while, self-level. 

Kiwis would rise to the occasion. Yes there would be segments of society that would seize the opportunity to divide into clans, to try and gain the upper hand, to simply take what was not theirs, but they would be defeated. Ultimately, good would prevail, although the chances of life returning to the 'normal' we have become used to would be unlikely. We would, however, survive, and eventually, grow.

But if you're a billionaire reading this, you might want to think about a Plan B instead of just fleeing to New Zealand. Because your wealth and status would likely have little relevance in Aotearoa's New World. Ask yourself, what could you do with a piece of number eight fencing wire?