The international drug control regime is built upon a series of key treaties that have shaped global drug policy and that were codifed over the past century to respond to the emerging challenges of illegal drugs. The three core conventions (the 1961 Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs [as amended by the 1972 Protocol], the 1971 Convention on Psychotropic Substances, and the 1988 United Nations Convention against Illicit Trafc in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances) form the legal framework governing the production, distribution, trafcking, medical and scientifc use, trade, and consumption of controlled substances. These treaties established a system of scheduling substances based on their medical value and potential for abuse and diversion, infuencing both national policies and international enforcement mechanisms. While designed to streamline drug control measures and curb illegal markets, the conventions have also faced criticism for their rigid classifcations, political infuences in scheduling decisions, and limited efectiveness of their provisions’ implementation in reducing global drug use and trafcking.

The origins of international drug control trace back to the early twentieth century, deeply intertwined with the legacy of the Opium Wars and the subsequent economic and social instability in China, spurring the frst international regulatory eforts, culminating in the 1909 Shanghai Opium Commission.

In a 1995 essay “Time after Time,” Cavell suggests, in response to the editors of Le Monde prompt, that “Everything is worn out: revolutions, profts, miracles. The planet itself shows signs of fatigue and breakdown, from the ozone layer to the temperature of the oceans,” that the time of ordinary politics is over, and it is now a time for “great politics”—explicitly echoing Nietzsche. One doesn't usually consider Cavell a philosopher of climate disaster. In this essay I argue that, in fact, the famous and puzzling interlude on modernism that sits so awkwardly near the middle of The World Viewed, can only be interpreted as an efort to bend the meaning of high modernist painting in its late American incarnation, from Jackson Pollock to Morris Louis Unfurleds, as an efort to experience the loss of living nature as the necessary habitat of human living, with the further promise that the politics appropriate to this loss would commence from the idea of living nature as the true Commons of collective humanity.

Introduction: Cavell's Modernism, Again

Opening Here and There (2022), the frst posthumously published volume of Cavell's writings, was, simultaneously unbearably sad but tinged with an irrepressible feeling of wonder: his absence and presence joined in a moment. And from beginning to end, the book put me in mind of Cavell's modernism, Cavell as sole successor or inheritor of Wittgenstein's own modernism—did any other twentieth-century philosopher use the fragment and fragmentary writing more or to greater efect?—that side of Cavell's writing that somehow became overshadowed by his Emersonian perfectionism as modernism itself retreated from the cutting edge of artistic culture.

In 2022, Flinders University published an article titled ‘Family Ties’, looking at the story of my great-great grandfather,(John) Gronthos, who arrived in Port Pirie in 1911 from Ikaria, and was mentioned in this book.1 The story was picked up by Greek Australian diaspora newspapers Neos Kosmos and the Greek Herald. 2 The interest in this research and in my personal connection to it demonstrates a resonance in the story of early migrants and the way they contributed to the developing tapestry of the lands that they settled. It has also made me refect on the diferences in the migrant experience between the early twentieth century, and our present, interconnected, digital day, which can often feel worlds apart. These diferences make exploring the patterns of the past even more important, spurring us to understand migration and its integral place in global history.

It is evident that Ikarian emigration was spurred on by a variety of reasons, sometimes economic and aspirational, and sometimes coerced. In settling, they navigated often contradictory policies, and even settled in stages, although ‘chain migration’ and sponsorships from existing relatives and compatriots enabled most of their movements. They ultimately diverted to building communities as an act of establishing permanency in their new homes. It also served as their way of maintaining some level of their previous socio-cultural identities in this foreign space. To summarise the discussion this book has presented, this conclusion further breaks down these core concepts.

Overall, the purpose of any theory is to explicate the real world (see Waltz 1979). Here, the empirical evidence arises from Chapters 2 to 4. Could their “real world” be explained? In order to ascertain this, I will be reviewing four sets of theories of European integration, from the most general to the most limited. All of them concentrate on different mechanisms, as well as the extent of their accounts. For all of them, I begin with the general tenets of a given theory. In a second step, I engage them in a European focus (taken from the policy field of Economic and Monetary Union—as covered in Chapter 3 of this book). I decided on EMU because its threshold is harder to clarify (because of a high degree of centralization in monetary policy, but a low extent in the fiscal program).

The first general theory is called Intergovernmentalism. Its main feature is a liberal variant (spearheaded by the American scholar Andrew Moravcsik). This is the most complete theory, and it claims to explicate everything in European integration from the very beginning in the 1950s to the present time. Liberal Intergovernmentalism (LI) concentrates on the EU member states, and the big ones among them. Other actors (e.g., companies) do not matter in their own right; only states do. When Moravcsik began writing in 1991, these were France, [West] Germany, and the United Kingdom. Among them, he argued, the lowest common denominator of their leaders determines the speed of EU integration. At the time, the laggard was the British prime minister Margaret Thatcher.

A Historical Sketch of Ikaria

Ikaria, often called ‘Nikaria’, as well as historically ‘Makris’, ‘Dolichi’, ‘Ichthyoessa’, and ‘Kariot’, is positioned in the north Aegean Sea (Maps 1.1 & 1.2). Although a large island geographically, its population, usually between 3,000 and 10,000, has consistently been relatively small in comparison to its larger neighbouring islands of Samos and Chios. Ikaria and its closest neighbour, the Fournoi Korseon archipelago, share a long history, with Fournian emigrants often forming part of Ikarian diaspora communities. Ikaria has been a signifcantly ‘localised’ island due to its historical isolation, lack of natural harbours, lack of transition to steamships, use of village common areas, the idea of villages as ‘kinship clusters’ and fellow islanders as extended families, and its centuries of self-governance. This isolation can be traced as far back as antiquity, where Homer noted Ikaria's turbulent seas and the diffculty of navigating them in the Iliad.

Ikaria was, however, historically touched by outside forces and Mediterranean powers, albeit not as profoundly as its neighbouring islands. These notable forces included the Byzantine Empire, the Venetian and Genoese republics, the Knights Hospitaller, and the Ottoman Empire, all of which left their marks between the thirteenth and nineteenth centuries. Like its neighbour Chios, the Genoese maonesi Giustiniani family ruled between the fourteenth and ffteenth centuries, although they did not leave a signifcant mark on Ikaria's ‘cultural lore’. Throughout these periods, however, Ikaria's lifestyle remained isolated, with most inhabitants living in the island's interior, where they tended the land while avoiding altercations with their occupiers and with pirates. Ikaria was ceded to the Ottoman Empire in the late sixteenth century, where they were increasingly exposed to a growing system of mobility and trade in the Eastern Mediterranean.

Independent Victorian Senator and Gunnai, Gunditjmara and Djab Wurrung woman Lidia Thorpe speaks to media outside a voting centre at Reservoir, in Melbourne, 14 October 2023. Photographer: Con Chronis/AAP.

Maintaining the Status Quo

Misinformation and disinformation or, more bluntly, lies prevailed during the 2023 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice referendum.1 Advance Australia, the rightwing, non-Indigenous campaign group behind a number of the main conservative No groups, has gone so far as to champion the fact that where the law allows, it makes no apology for using whatever means necessary, including disinformation and misrepresentation, to achieve its goals.2 This attitude was emblematic of what I will refer to as the ‘Indigenous No groups’ that were active during the Voice referendum. These groups include the ‘conservative No’ campaign grouping, both supported by Advance Australia and led by Aboriginal fgureheads, rather than being broadly representative of First Nations people. This grouping included Australians for Unity, led by Bundjalung man Warren Mundine, and Fair Australia, led by Country Liberal Party Senator for the Northern Territory and Walpiri woman Jacinta Price, who took over the Shadow Ministry for Indigenous Australians in April 2023 leading into the referendum. These groups also included what became known as the ‘progressive No’ campaign, led by fgures such as Independent Victorian Senator and Gunnai, Gunditjmara and Djab Wurrung woman Lidia Thorpe, and supported by First Nations community groups such as Warriors of the Aboriginal Resistance (WAR)

Opposition Leader Peter Dutton stands with shadow minister for Indigenous Afairs Senator Jacinta Nampijinpa Price, after the failure of the Voice referendum. Photograph credit: Patrick Hamilton/AFP/Getty Images.

The dominant media narrative was that this was a ‘crash or crash through’ referendum.

The failure of the Voice in 2023 was caused primarily by First Nations leaders and the Labor government who refused to compromise to secure bipartisan support, notwithstanding that bipartisanship has long been understood as essential for constitutional change. First Nations leaders declined to work ‘cooperatively or incrementally’ with the political right, instead foolishly attempting to ‘bulldoze their way to success’. These ‘overreaching’ and ‘radical’ First Nations activists, blinded by ‘pig-headed’ hubris, demanded the most ‘radical’ constitutional drafting and insisted the government ‘take the toughest possible stand on the referendum question’. Acquiescing to their demands, the Labor government ‘made no concessions, no changes, and insisted upon no changes’ to the constitutional amendment. Their intransigence ‘wedged’ opposition leader Peter Dutton, leaving the Coalition with ‘no option’ but to oppose the referendum. Hence, the referendum failed not primarily because the Coalition chose to oppose it and ran a ruthlessly efective No campaign. It failed because neither Labor leaders nor First Nations advocates could ‘compromise with those who opposed them’ to secure Coalition endorsement, ‘even when the past century has shown that a referendum will fail without bipartisan support’.

The prime minister stands with Professor Megan Davis and other members of the Referendum Working Group on 23 March 2023 at Parliament House, Canberra, to announce the fnal wording of the constitutional amendment to be introduced to Parliament. Photo Credit: Alex Ellinghausen, The Age, Fairfax Media MEAA.

Introduction

The October 2023 Voice referendum was a vote on the enactment of constitutional amendment to insert a new chapter (Chapter 9, Recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples) and a new section (section 129, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice) into the Australian Constitution. Much of the referendum campaign turned on general ideas about the concept of the Voice, how it ft within Australia's historical, social and democratic framework, whether it would make a diference for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people on the ground and its cost. However, there was also a signifcant amount of debate directed at the constitutional provision itself. For some, the dominant narrative that emerged during and after the campaign was that the failure of the referendum was due to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples’ refusal to ‘compromise’ on the drafting of the constitutional provision. The Liberal Party's claim that it had concerns regarding the legal soundness of the provision formed at least part of its basis for opposing the Voice.

This chapter delineates a mixed-methods research strategy that integrates quantitative and qualitative data for a thorough analysis of the psychological aspects of fitness technology. This section outlines the research design, participant characteristics, and analytical approaches employed, offering a methodological perspective to enrich comprehension of how fitness technology impacts users’ self-concept and anxiety levels. The robustness of this methodology supports the conclusions presented in the following sections.

This study utilizes a mixed-methods approach to investigate the psychological impact of fitness technology on physical self-concept and social physique anxiety, combining quantitative and qualitative data. This integrated method enables a thorough examination of the impact of fitness technology on users’ self-perceptions and body-related anxieties according to Zartaloudi et al. (2023). The quantitative aspect examines the connections among the use of fitness technology, physical self-concept, and social physique anxiety, whereas the qualitative aspect delves into users’ individual experiences and perspectives. This chapter details the research design, participant demographics, data collection methods, and analysis techniques.

In 2020, the president of the INCB Cornelis P. de Joncheere, during the very formal presentation of its 2019 report made a rare and notable acknowledgment: “We do have some very fundamental issues around the conventions, that State Parties will need to start looking at. We have to recognize that the conventions were drawn up almost 60 years ago […] and I think it is an appropriate time to look at whether those are still ft for purpose, or whether we need new alternative instruments, and alternative approaches to deal with these problems.” Coming from the senior ofcial of the very body mandated to oversee the implementation of international drug control conventions, rather than from expected quarters such as human rights organizations, public health institutions, or academia, this statement marked a signifcant moment. It illustrates the growing recognition, even among the system's custodians, that the existing legal framework, anchored in mid-twentieth-century assumptions, may no longer be adequate to address the complexities of contemporary drug policy challenges. This observation encapsulates the broader tension examined throughout this book: the widening gap between entrenched control paradigms and evolving realities.

The calls to reform international drug policy emerge from the stark reality that its objectives have not been met, far from it. Despite decades of sustained, often militarized eforts to curb drug production, consumption, and trafcking, all three have increased since the 1964 entry into force of the Single Convention.

While there are two explicit institutions for the member states (please see Chapter 2), the remaining five (of the EU's seven) institutions cover the European Union itself. They are the European Parliament, the European Commission, the Court of Justice of the European Union, the European Central Bank, and the European Court of Auditors (on the latter, I will be slightly shorter—these are just accountants). However, they are in some way appointed either by the European Council or by the Council of the European Union—or a combination of them. An exception is the European Parliament only insofar as it has been directly elected by EU citizens on a national basis every five years since 1979.

For all bodies, once appointed, they vote in a certain way within their own institutions. In addition, they are routinely tasked by the European Council to conduct work for them by a certain date. I will be concentrating on them in the above order, considering the appointment and voting aspects in them.

European Parliament

The European Parliament (EP) is one of the institutions that has, over the course of time, witnessed one of the starkest increases in its influence. About 375 million people across the EU were eligible to vote in the EP elections— last held in June 2024.

Introduction

Stanley Cavell’s1 thought and work—at least in France—have been unjustly confned in obscurity for such a long time that it would be a grave disservice were we to endow them now with an untouchable majesty, turning them into what Cavell himself called “a cult” (The World Viewed, 35).2 As far as Cavell's work on cinema is concerned, and in particular the book at the heart of it, The World Viewed, we can pay it no greater tribute than by constantly reinterpreting it in the light of developments since it was written, or from angles other than those adopted by its author.

In fact, Cavell himself was quick to recognize the need for both a forward- looking perspective and a critical look back at his own work. Thus, the enlarged edition of The World Viewed was supplemented with an additional essay (“More of The World Viewed”) as well as a foreword that measured the efects produced by “the father work” (The World Viewed proper) and its ofspring. This was the form in which French readers discovered the book in 1999.