Sunday 22 September 2024

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?


Sunday 8 September 2024

Dying Words - A Personal Account of New Zealand's 'Assisted Dying' Legislation

 By Mike Bodnar


Paul Weaver playing guitar
Paul Weaver
In November 2021, New Zealand enacted legislation allowing assisted dying as an option for the terminally ill. This followed a referendum a couple of years previously, in which 65% of those who took part favoured the introduction of the option.

New Zealand isn't the first country to have such legislation - Canada, the Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, some US states, Australia, France and Japan all offer it, usually for people diagnosed as terminally ill or who are in a state of unbearable suffering. In Switzerland, assisted dying is available to anyone who wants it regardless of their state of health, as long as it's not 'for selfish reasons.' 

But New Zealand's End of Life Choice Act is tightly controlled, and has a strict set of criteria that must be satisfied before a person can qualify for the procedure. Paul Weaver, who lived near Wellington, New Zealand's capital, was one of those who qualified.

Paul had suffered from emphysema for seven years, and his prognosis was not good. But then a pair of lungs became available through a donor, and in June 2022 he underwent a double lung transplant operation. It was successful, at least initially. Eighty percent of lung transplant recipients survive to the one-year mark, while 60% reach the five-year mark, so Paul was told by medical professionals that this could only ever be viewed as a life-extending procedure rather than a life-saving one. Unfortunately it did not extend his life by very long.

Surgeons in operating theatre
Surgeons at work (stock image)
After less than a year the medication he had to take to battle his body's rejection of the new lungs compromised his health, and slowly but surely the new lungs began to fail. He knew it was a terminal situation. He knew also that he didn't want his last days to be a trial, not just for himself but for his family and friends. Paul had watched his wife Bernadette die in an undignified way from a cancer in 2012.

'Her exit was pretty unattractive,' he recalled. 'Her particular combination of things meant she wasn't getting enough oxygen to her brain, that caused her body to fit for quite some period, and so you had the family, and myself, and my daughter who was only 15 at the time, watching her mum fit her way to dying, and while the medical folk were apparently giving her drugs to help her, that's not the way it seemed from where we were.'

And so Paul, at 61 years of age, knowing he had less than six months to live, investigated assisted dying. He found he ticked all the boxes, which state that a person needs to: 

  • be 18 years or over;
  • be a New Zealand citizen or permanent resident;
  • have an illness that’s likely to end their life within six months;
  • be in an advanced state of irreversible decline in physical health;
  • have unbearable suffering that can’t be relieved in a way the patient finds tolerable;
  • be able to make an informed decision about assisted dying.
So the End of Life Choice Act is not an option for you if you're living in another country and reading this - you can't just hop on a plane and come to New Zealand on a one-way ticket with a plan to end your life. Possibly Switzerland would be an option, but it requires some careful research first. 

Dignitas Clinic in Switzerland (stock image)
For example, earlier this year a British woman chose to go to Switzerland to end her life. Her plans were discovered by a PhD student who was doing research in this area and who not only made contact with the woman but gained her approval to accompany her on her journey to the clinic in Switzerland. 

On returning to England the student was arrested by police, because she had allegedly 'assisted' the woman to carry out her own death. Assisted dying in the UK is illegal, and is viewed either as murder or manslaughter. So, if you're considering assisted dying as an option you need to fully investigate its status in your own country first, along with, as required, the regulations of any country you might be planning to travel to for the procedure.

But back to New Zealand. One of the key aspects of assisted dying in Aotearoa is that medical professionals cannot recommend it to a patient, even if the patient is terminally ill and suffering. The onus is on the patient to ask about assisted dying. Once that's done, a GP or other medical professional can discuss the option in detail.

General practitioners are not, however, bound to provide assisted dying advice or to carry out the procedure; they are allowed to stand down if they do not personally agree with assisted dying or are uncomfortable with it, but if asked about it they must pass their patient on to another medical professional who will discuss it.

GPs cannot bring up the subject
of assisted dying (stock image)
Paul Weaver knew this, but found that he was easily able to discuss the option with his own doctor. In fact, he said he could see the relief on his doctor's face when he, Paul, brought up the subject of assisted dying.

Before a patient can take up the assisted dying option though, a second doctor must examine them and concur that they fully qualify - and especially that they are in a sound mental state to make the decision.

Critics of the New Zealand legislation say it is too restrictive - that it doesn't apply to people who are severely disabled for example, and others whose quality of life might be extremely hard. It doesn't apply, for example, to those suffering from advanced dementia. ACT party leader David Seymour says that the six month terminally-ill timeframe should be scrapped. 'It's a shame that some of the people who suffer the worst are still unable to access the law.'

In support of relaxing the criteria, the chief executive of Totara Hospice, Tina McCafferty, told media she would '...at best like to see that timeframe removed, or extended to twelve months.' 

At the other end of the scale, there are many who believe the End of Life Choice Act is just wrong, and has no place in a society where palliative and end-of-life care is of a relatively high standard. In the lead-up to the second reading of the Act in 2019, a coalition of 1000 doctors presented a petition against the introduction of assisted dying legislation, telling media that it believed, 'physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia are unethical, even if they were made legal.'

Anti-abortion movement Right to Life also took up the call against the legislation, with secretary Ken Orr arguing that voluntary euthanasia is both suicide and murder, while Hospice New Zealand declared that they would provide care up to the point of end of life, but would not accommodate the procedure within hospices. CEO Wayne Naylor said, 'The actual act [assisted dying] itself is not a thing that hospices do as it is not part of hospice care.'

However, the End of Life Choice Act was passed and became law on 7 November 2021.

The legislation is up for review soon (late 2024), although this will still only result in recommendations rather than any guaranteed changes, so any law amendments will probably rely on the tabling of a private member's bill. It could be two or three years before any changes, if any, are effected. 

But for Paul Weaver the legislation as it stands did work. His primary aim in choosing it, as mentioned, was that his family and friends did not have to go through the anguish and pain of watching him die over a protracted period as his lungs deteriorated. He succeeded in that. In a final email to me just days before the procedure he said, 'my body is broken and other exits could get pretty ugly.'

Paul Weaver left us voluntarily on 1 September 2024.

POSTSCRIPT

In July this year, after having qualified for assisted dying, Paul agreed to be interviewed about his decision for my Access Radio programme 'Mike On...' and in that half-hour chat he clearly sets out the background for choosing to use the option of assisted dying and the implications of it. It's a poignant and reflective story, and it underlines one of the key motivations behind the legislation: that a person can bypass unbearable suffering at the end of their life, and save their nearest and dearest from the pain and anguish of watching them in their final decline. I believe it's worth a listen.

The programme aired on Wellington Access Radio on Thursday 12 September. Anyone can still listen to it via the station's website, on the 'Mike On...' podcast page. It is also be available on Spotify Podcasts, Apple Podcasts and iHeartRadio

The programme was broadcast in memory of, and is dedicated to, Paul Weaver.

If you want to know more about assisted dying in New Zealand, or would like to speak to a counsellor, here are some options:

Some organisations and departments associated with assisted dying:


For counselling in New Zealand:

Lifeline NZ, phone 0800 543 354 or text 4357
To speak or text to a counsellor dial 1737

This page was updated on 9 September to correct a date error.






Tuesday 23 January 2024

Sole Searching

Mike Bodnar pounds the pavements in search of fulfilment


It's blowing a northerly gale and I don't want to go out running in it.

Actually, it could be the most perfect day on earth and I wouldn't want to go running. But the problem is I have signed up for a 10 kilometre 'fun run' (I use the term 'fun' here loosely), and I have just 26 days until the Big Event. I have only myself to blame.

For those stuck in an imperial past, 10 kms is 6.2 miles, so basically just under a quarter of a marathon. Unlike the original Marathon Man, I would therefore never have made it to Athens to deliver the news that the Greeks had trounced the Persians, but then I wouldn't have died as a result either. No news is good news in this case.

So why am I doing this? Let's add some context. This year I turn 70 - hard to believe I know, but there you are. I have a certificate to prove it. It's called a Birth Certificate. And I haven't run for anything other than a train or a bus in about 20 years, so I am not to be seen pounding the pavements or anything like it on a regular basis. Nor am I a gym bunny. My idea of exercise is leaping to conclusions.

But, as with most years, my wife Liz and I are trying to do 'Dry January', where we give up drinking alcohol for the whole month, 1) to allow our livers to recover from the festive season pounding, and 2) to prove to ourselves we can do it - and hopefully feel the better for it. But for me, oh no, that wasn't enough, was it? No, I had to go further. 

I happened to stumble across an item online announcing that this year's Round The Bays Fun Run is to be held on 18th of February, and foolishly I thought, well, why not add a bit of exercise to the non-drinking thing and see what happens? At the worst I won't be able to run that distance, but I do like walking, and walking the 10kms is an option if the running doesn't work out. So I paid the registration fee.

Am I mad or what? (Hold off answering please until you've read a bit more)

No, not entirely loopy. I ran a couple of half-marathons back in the 1980s and did so in quite reasonable times. In those days I would run for enjoyment (I know, right?), and I did actually sometimes reach that 'zone' that runners talk about, where you achieve a certain physical and mental satisfaction - if not a kick - simply from running a decent distance. It's a buzz, a fix.

1987 half-marathon, that's me in the middle, post-run
But as I said earlier, running for a bus is about all I've done in recent years, although I am at least blessed with legs, hips and knees that still work okay, and walking, even long distances, isn't a problem.

One doesn't, however, at the age of 69 just slip on some running shoes and head out the door for a five kilometre jog; that would be foolish and possibly even dangerous. No, one is supposed to build up both distance and stamina over time, and so there are schedules available online showing how far to run each day (or even if to run - there are rest days), and how to increase your distance gradually over time. Which is what I've been doing.

It's been going okay, but I have to be honest, I really don't want to do it. Yesterday for example was my weekly 'rest day', i.e. no running at all. Lovely. It was also 29 degrees Celsius (84 F) so I  shouldn't have been running in heat like that anyway. Instead I lay on the sun lounger and drank zero-alcohol beer.

Today though I'm supposed to be out for another training run, and I just don't want to go. It's very windy, and that seems like a good excuse. The Clash is singing in my head right now: Should I stay or should I go? Followed by the lines: If you run it is a slog... So stay at home and write a blog. Which is exactly what I'm doing.

It's a delaying tactic. I'm good at those. I should write a self-help book on delaying tactics, and maybe I will. One day. Maybe.

But I will run today. I know I will, because in the past three weeks I've gone from not being able to jog even a kilometre, to now running 4.42 kms non-stop. Plus I've lost around 3 kgs (6.6 lbs) in weight, although given that I'm not drinking alcohol it's likely to be a combination of that plus the exercise that's doing it. I needed to lose weight anyway as I was developing what's known as a roof over the tool shed.

It's helped that at weekends my son comes running with me and is gracious enough to shuffle along at my pace rather than his more lengthy lope. I suspect he also knows how to make sure he stays in my will. It's good to have a running buddy though and I look forward to our runs together. But because he works Monday to Friday I find myself having to train alone during the weekdays, which makes it harder. As does Wellington's wind today. Oh the reasons not to go running are mounting up!

The training advice online says that if you are in pain from running then you should stop, particularly at my age. I do actually have a bit of a twinge behind my knees, another excuse to stay home, but if I'm honest it's not really bad, and I know that when I start running I won't notice it.

And then there's the people, the crowds. I had planned to run today along the waterfront, and now it's lunchtime which means there'll be lots of people promenading, getting in the way, blocking my path. Yes, I should just stay home. There's always tomorrow, or the next day. Maybe I'll just do some sit-ups and push-ups, a few stretching exercises. The deck is sheltered and the sun lounger is calling to me. There's a cold 0% alcohol beer in the fridge.

Oh sod it. I'm going for a run. See you later.