Self-regulation of junk food advertising to kids doesn’t work. Here’s why.

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Recently, Cancer Council NSW published a study finding that food industry self-regulation in Australia has not been effective in reducing children’s exposure to unhealthy food marketing. Australian children still see, on average, three advertisements for unhealthy foods and beverages during each hour of prime time television they watch. This figure remains unchanged despite the Australian food industry introducing two voluntary codes on food marketing to children in 2009.

My research, published recently in the Monash University Law Review, explains why.

I undertook an in-depth analysis of the terms and conditions of the two food industry codes on marketing to children. I also analyzed the processes of administration, monitoring, enforcement and review established by the self-regulatory scheme.

My analysis drew on the code documents themselves, monitoring reports from the food industry, existing independent research, and a sample of advertising complaint determinations from the Advertising Standards Board. I also considered the revisions made to the codes in 2014 (following an independent review of the scheme), and asked whether these revisions make the codes more likely to protect children from exposure to unhealthy food marketing.

My key finding is that the substantive terms and conditions of the codes contain a series of loopholes which leave food companies with a variety of techniques they can use to market unhealthy products to children. These loopholes include:

  • A weak definition of “media directed primarily to children” which excludes general audience programs that are popular with children
  • A weak definition of “advertising directed to children,” made weaker still by the Advertising Standards Board’s interpretive approach; and
  • The exclusion from the codes of key promotional techniques such as company-owned characters (e.g., Ronald McDonald), brand advertising, product line advertising, and product packaging and labelling.

The processes used to administer and enforce the codes also contain a series of flaws, undermining the codes’ efficacy, transparency and accountability. These include:

  • A lack of consultation with, or participation by, external stakeholders in the development of the codes, e.g., consumer or child representatives, government, or public health groups;
  • A lack of independent, systematic monitoring of the codes; and
  • The limited availability of enforcement mechanisms for non-compliance.

These loopholes and limitations help to explain why food industry self-regulation has not been effective in improving children’s food marketing environment. Further, the revisions to the codes made in 2014 appear to have done little to improve the self-regulatory scheme, and are unlikely to lead to lead to reductions in children’s exposure to unhealthy food marketing.

My article sets out a “responsive” or step-wise approach for strengthening regulation of food marketing to children, by closing off the loopholes in the substantive terms and conditions of the codes, and strengthening regulatory processes, including monitoring and enforcement. Most importantly, I argue, regulation of food marketing to children needs strong government leadership and an approach to protecting children from unhealthy food marketing that doesn’t just rely on voluntary food industry action. There are a range of regulatory options available, even if government is unwilling to introduce new statutory controls on food marketing to children.

 

 

Sydney Health Law’s Food Governance Conference

 

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In the first week of November, Sydney Health Law will be hosting the Food Governance Conference. The conference is a collaborative endeavor between Sydney Law School and the Charles Perkins Centre, the University of Sydney’s dedicated institute for easing the global burden of obesity, diabetes, and cardiovascular disease. The conference also has sponsorship from The George Institute for Global Health and the University’s Cancer Research Network.

The Food Governance Conference will explore the role of law, regulation and policy in addressing the key challenges associated with food and nutrition in the 21st century, including food security, food safety, and preventing diet-related disease such as diabetes and cardiovascular disease. It also engages with issues related to sustainability, equity, and justice in the food supply, with a strong focus on nutrition and diet-related health in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities.

In taking such a broad focus we hope that the Conference will highlight the interrelationships between the main challenges facing the global food system in the 21st century. The conference will also showcase the work of researchers in developing new, innovative solutions to these challenges, with the conference including presenters from across Australia, as well as from the UK, Canada, and New Zealand. Some of the issues considered at the conference include:

  • Taxes on sugar-sweetened beverages
  • Free range egg labeling
  • Urban farming
  • The role of business in improving nutrition and diet-related health, and
  • The influence of trade agreements on the global food system

A draft conference program and registration form are available on the conference website.

Public events

We have an exciting program of events around the Food Governance Conference, including two free, public lectures to open the conference.

Professor Corinna Hawkes will be giving the opening address for the conference on Tuesday the 1st of November at 6pm at the Charles Perkins Centre Auditorium. This lecture is free and open to the public. Professor Hawkes is the Director of the Centre for Food Policy at City University London and a world-renowned expert on food and nutrition policy. She’ll be speaking on the three biggest challenges facing the food system, and how we fix them. If you’re interested in this talk, you can register at this link.

Dr Alessandro Demaio will also be giving a public lecture at 1-2pm on Tuesday the 1st of November at Sydney Law School. Dr Demaio (from the World Health Organisation) will be speaking on the links between food, nutrition and cancer, and what the nutrition community can learn from the cancer community from its fight against tobacco. Further details about his talk are available at this link.

Workshop on food advocacy

Along with the Charles Perkins Centre, the Australian Right to Food Coalition is hosting a masterclass on becoming an effective food policy advocate, featuring Professor Corinna Hawkes. The purpose of this master class is to encourage debate among academics and civil society about the role of advocacy in food and nutrition policy, what it is, and how it can be used more effectively. Registrations for the master class can be made herePlease note that the master class is now full.

We’re looking forward to the inaugural Food Governance Conference at the University of Sydney, and we hope to see you there. We welcome any questions about the conference, which can be directed to Dr Belinda Reeve: Belinda.reeve@sydney.edu.au

Follow #foodgovernance2016 on Twitter for updates about the conference!

Named reporting of HIV: A positive step for public health?

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Image from Flickr.com

In Australia, doctors must notify public health authorities of new cases of HIV/AIDs. However, strict confidentiality requirements apply to the testing, treating and notification of HIV, protecting the identity of patients.

As part of its review of the New South Wales Public Health Act 2010, the Department of Health is considering whether to remove these confidentiality requirements from NSW public health legislation. Is this a move that should be welcomed by health care professionals and patients?

Infectious disease notification

All Australian jurisdictions have laws that require the notification of certain infectious diseases. In NSW, notification requirements can be found in the Public Health Act 2010, which creates five categories of diseases that must be reported by medical practitioners, pathology laboratories, and hospitals, including HIV/AIDs.

Section 56 of the Act places confidentiality requirements on information relating to a patient’s HIV status. There are three main components to section 56:

  • Notifications for HIV/AIDs must be made in a de-identified format;
  • A person’s identifying details must not be used when arranging a diagnostic test for HIV (except in hospital situations or with the person’s consent);
  • A person who, in the course of providing a service, obtains information that an individual has been tested for HIV or has HIV/AIDs, must take reasonable steps to prevent that information from being disclosed. However, the information may be disclosed to a person involved in the provision of care of the patient, so long as it is relevant to the provision of such care.

Section 56 allows for disclosure of identifying information in certain other circumstances, including if there are reasonable grounds to suspect that failure to disclose the information would likely be a risk to public health. This allows for the Secretary of the Department of Health to identify and manage HIV positive individuals who pose a risk to the health of others, including (as a last resort) through public health orders that allow for the mandatory treating and detention of patients living with HIV.

Review of the Public Health Act 2010 (NSW)

NSW Health recently published a discussion paper on the review of the Public Health Act 2010 (NSW). The Ministry’s preliminary view is that HIV-specific confidentiality protections should be wound back. The paper notes several difficulties that stem from the confidentiality requirements for HIV notification:

  • De-identified notification increases the likelihood of duplicate testing and errors in notification, and impacts negatively upon the collection of epidemiological data, surveillance, and monitoring, and follow-up care of HIV positive patients;
  • Confidentiality requirements create a barrier to testing for HIV in combination with testing for other conditions as there are different consent procedures for HIV tests and other tests; and
  • They prevent healthcare professionals from being informed of patients’ HIV status where they are not providing treatment directly related to the patient’s HIV condition, but it would assist in providing care to know about the patient’s status (given that HIV and ART treatment have a range of health implications).

The policy of de-identifying HIV/AIDs notifications was first developed in the 1980s, at a time when most HIV infections occurred in gay men and there was considerable stigma and discrimination against the gay community and those living with HIV/AIDs. At that time, no effective treatment options were available for HIV/AIDs, making it a terminal condition. Many activists, clinicians, and community organizations were strongly against notification, and confidential notification provisions were adopted to encourage at-risk individuals to access HIV testing and care without fear of recrimination or discrimination.

The situation has changed significantly since then. Anti-retroviral therapy (ART) has made HIV a manageable, chronic condition, and has demonstrable benefits in preventing onwards transmission. Community attitudes towards the gay community and people living with HIV have changed considerably over the past 30 years, assisted by the introduction of laws that address discrimination and privacy concerns.

The discussion paper lists a number of benefits that would flow from rolling back HIV-specific confidentiality requirements:

  • Named notification would enable more accurate epidemiological data on HIV to be collected, for example, by allowing for better linking of HIV notifications with notifications of other conditions, which would assist with tracking and managing HIV co-infections; and
  • It would potentially allow better service provision and care of people living with HIV: one outcome would be that it would enable public health officers to follow up with HIV positive patients directly; liaise with clinicians; and refer people living with HIV to the relevant health services.

However, there is significant disagreement between NSW Health and HIV activists over whether named reporting would improve epidemiological data and access to care. Advocates argue that while named reporting may provide some benefit, this would be outweighed by its impact on privacy, testing, surveillance, and treatment.

HIV remains heavily stigmatized, and many people living with HIV continue to experience discrimination. These concerns are particularly relevant given that NSW criminalizes individuals with HIV (and other STIs) who fail to disclose their condition to their sexual partners.

Named reporting may deter people from being tested for HIV, particularly people from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds, recent migrants, highly sexually active men with multiple STIs, sex workers, and non-gay identifying men who have sex with men. People diagnosed with HIV may also be less willing to report sensitive personal information (e.g., injecting drug use), particularly if it could be used for law enforcement purposes. This would undermine the effective care of people living with HIV, as well as the quality of population-level data.

Advocates recognize that making information about a person’s HIV status, co-morbidities, and treatment regimen more widely available in clinical settings could improve care outcomes. However, they say that there are not enough examples of non-disclosure causing adverse effects to warrant the proposed changed, and the amendment would undermine the right of people living with HIV to disclose their HIV status to medical and healthcare workers at a time of their choosing.

Winding back “HIV exceptionalism”?

Writing on the legal environment of sexual health care practice, Roger Magnusson describes HIV as an “exceptional STI,” with unique legislation regulating counselling, diagnosis, and reporting of HIV. The central concerns of this legislation are the provision of supportive treatment and maintaining patient confidentiality.

Professor Magnusson describes how some countries are now winding back HIV exceptionalism, for example, in the US, CDC guidelines now recommend opt-out screening for all patients, i.e., patients are notified that screening will take place unless they decline consent. Some states, such as California, have adopted these recommendations, and while anonymous testing is still offered in many states, named HIV reporting is now the norm.

Notification of HIV/AIDs is a contentious subject, engaging issues around rights to privacy and autonomy, as well as on the role notification plays in data collection, testing, and treating. Many jurisdictions are streamlining the legal treatment of HIV testing with that of other infectious diseases; the question is whether NSW will – or should – do the same.

How should we talk about weight?

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Journalist Lindy West on her wedding day. Image from: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jul/21/my-wedding-perfect-fat-woman#img-2

 

In a lot of ways, I’m reluctant to publish this blog post. It’s not a topic I’m an expert on, and academics are generally cautious about writing on something they haven’t researched, due to the fear of being shredded by someone with a PhD and 20 years’ experience in the field.

I’m also worried about making things worse, about saying the wrong thing and invoking the collective ire of the Internet #trolls.  This is also the kind of topic where it’s difficult not to take sides or to admit that you don’t have all the answers, because it’s so polarizing. But I’ve got a question I want to get it off my chest. How do we – as public health advocates, as a community, and as individuals – talk about weight?

This question has been bugging me for a while, but especially since I wrote an opinion piece (with Alexandra Jones) in the Medical Journal of Australia talking about the need for better nutrition policy in Australia. One of the readers of my article cautioned me about the need not to conflate nutrition and weight: people can be “overweight,” but eat well, feel good and live healthy lives.

Her comments immediately reminded me of a podcast that I’d listened to recently on This American Life, which discussed how people are starting to think differently and talk differently about body weight. Among the stories was one from Lindy West, a US journalist, feminist and fat acceptance activist on how she confronted her boss about his some of his reporting on the “obesity epidemic.” Other stories in the podcast described saddening and horrifying accounts of the discrimination, stigma, and sub-par medical care that people experience because of the way society perceives and treats people who fall outside what is considered a desirable weight range.

The reporting that Lindy West was concerned with seemed laced with personal prejudice. Yet it’s not uncommon for stigma to be considered as a tool to convince people to lose weight. The UK’s former public health minister once said that doctors should tell their patients that they are “fat” rather than “obese” to better motivate them to lose weight and to take “personal responsibility” for their lifestyles.

Stigmatizing language (and behavior) is never acceptable. A growing body of research shows that stigma tends to demotivate people to lose weight or change their eating habits. Stigma is also linked to negative health outcomes, including poor mental health and low self-esteem.

Even if it did result in public health gains, stigma can’t be justified given the negative impact it has on individuals’ health, wellbeing and self-perception.

However, the problem goes beyond stigmatizing, discriminatory, and shaming language. As Lindy West explains, it’s also about being constantly bombarded by apparently scientific or “objective” messages that obesity is a “crisis,” that having a high BMI is undesirable and unhealthy, and that people who are “fat” are a drain on the healthcare system. Many people will understand the pressure to achieve a “desirable” weight, and what it does to self-esteem, and the fat acceptance movement is, in part, a push back against this kind of messaging.

So should we talk about weight at all? Could the public health message simply be “eat well and move often?” (And when I talk about moving I mean dancing, going for a walk with friends, or whatever else takes your fancy, not boot camps and chin-ups). A lot of my research targets the food industry and focuses on how food is made and sold. I want to improve the food system, not tell people to eat less chocolate.

From a public health advocates’ perspective, the problem is that a certain amount of excess body weight is a risk factor for chronic disease, as well as being associated with a range of health conditions. One of the main reasons why we focus on promoting and facilitating healthy eating is because weight gain has effects on people’s health.

Public health advocates know that body weight isn’t simply a question of people cramming Tim Tams into their faces while simultaneously watching Netflix and drinking two litres of soft drink (or “soda” for the Americans out there). It has a lot to do with genetic and physiological make-up, as well as whether we have the kinds of social, cultural, and economic environments that make good food easy to access and affordable, where healthy eating is valued, and is possible. Public health shouldn’t be about fat shaming, but even what seems like a relatively neutral message may have that effect. The concern for public health advocates, however, is that we will lose one of the main health messages behind our work if we take the word “weight” out of the picture.

Yes, we can think about using language more carefully when we convey information about weight and health, but is that enough? Would it be more helpful if we stopped talking about weight altogether, or – as Lindy West suggests – we stop seeing it as a problem? We should keep in mind here that most people on diets fail to lose weight and keep it off, that there are difficulties in defining what a healthy weight actually is (and what tools are useful in categorizing weight), and that there are socioeconomic and ethnic differences in population weight distribution. Most of the time, fat shaming will also mean shaming poorer people and people of color (with the shaming being done by middle-class, white people).

Also, evidence of a connection between weight and increased mortality and morbidity is not all one way. We are still untangling the complex connections between body weight and health (remember, correlation is not necessarily causation). Even within the public health community there are debates about whether body weight is the crisis that we make it out to be.

So what’s the answer here? To be honest, I don’t know. I hope we haven’t lost the opportunity to have a constructive conversation about how we talk about weight (or if we should talk about it at all).  I can’t pretend to be an expert on the topic, and while I’ve had issues related to eating and my weight, I’ve never experienced the type of discrimination that Lindy West and others describe. But listening to her, and hearing from other people with similar experiences, makes me think we could – and should – do better.

Thanks to Alex Bayley for the comments and resources she provided for this post. All the opinions expressed here are mine, as are any mistakes or misconceptions.

My brain made me do it: will neuroscience change the way we punish criminals?

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Source: Flickr

Allan McCay and Jeanette Kennett

Australian law may be on the cusp of a brain-based revolution that will reshape the way we deal with criminals.

Some researchers, such as neuroscientist David Eagleman, have argued that neuroscience should radically change our practices of punishment. According to Eagleman, the courts should give up on the notion of punishment altogether and instead focus on managing criminals and containing their behaviour in order to keep the rest of us safe.

Is this a good idea? And is this how Australian judges are responding to our increasing knowledge of the neurobiological bases of behaviour?

Two approaches

There are two broad approaches to justifying punishing someone who commits a crime. The first is in terms of “moral culpability” or “just deserts”. Crudely, if someone has caused harm, they deserve to have harm inflicted on them in return.

This is known as the “retributive” view; retributivists aim to mete out just deserts, or “just punishment”.

The second approach is to think in terms of the consequences of punishment. If punishment might deter or rehabilitate the offender, or prevent them from committing another crime by incapacitating them, or if it could serve as a deterrent to others, then and only then, is punishment justified.

If the punishment will only harm the individual who committed the crime, but it won’t prevent further crime or benefit others then, on pure consequentialist grounds, it is not justified.

In Australia, judges usually take both retributive and consequentialist considerations into account when determining punishment.

A clear illustration of retributivism is in the sentencing of the serial killer, Ivan Milat where the judge said:

These truly horrible crimes demand sentences which operate by way of retribution […] or by the taking of vengeance for the injury […] the community must be satisfied the criminal is given his just deserts

Currently, Australian offenders are also given the opportunity to make a plea in mitigation after their conviction for a crime. The aim of such a plea is to reduce the severity of punishment.

In some cases, the defence may engage a psychologist or psychiatrist to provide expert evidence about mental or neurological impairment to suggest that an offender is less morally culpable for the crime, and therefore deserving of less retribution.

Neuroscientific tilt

But some academics, such as American psychologists Joshua Greene and Jonathan Cohen, have argued that consequentialist considerations will be all that is left after neuroscience revolutionises criminal law. Punishment as retribution will be consigned to history.

According to Greene and Cohen, retributivism relies on the notion that people have free will. They say the advance of neuroscience will cure us of that notion by opening the black box of the mind and revealing the mechanistic processes that cause all human behaviour. Once these causes are revealed, we will give up the idea that people are responsible for their bad actions.

We will start to think that a criminal’s frontal lobe impairment caused him to lash out, for instance, and focus on how we can prevent this happening again, rather than thinking they chose to punch their victim and thus they deserve punishment.

According to Greene and Cohen, this will make crime reduction the only goal. If they are right, punishment practices will move in the direction advocated by Eagleman.

Case by case

Greene and Cohen made their argument about the demise of retributivism ten years ago. In light of their predictive claims, it is interesting to examine how the legal system is actually responding to the increasing use of neuroscientific evidence.

We can get an idea of what is happening in Australia from cases in the Australian Neurolaw Database, which was launched in December 2015. The database is a joint project between Macquarie University and the University of Sydney, and includes both Australian civil and criminal cases that employed evidence derived from neuroscience.

Interestingly, the sentencing cases in the database do not suggest retributive justice is being abandoned when the court is confronted with evidence of impairment to an offender’s brain.

Where used in sentencing, neuroscience evidence is often put forward in relation to assessment of the moral culpability of the offender. It is thus used to help determine how much punishment an offender deserves.

This is very different to suggesting moral culpability ceases to be a relevant consideration in the determination of punishment, or that courts should pay no regard to questions of desert. It presupposes that questions about appropriate punishment are important ones to answer correctly.

One example of the way Australian courts regard evidence derived from neuroscience is in the sentencing of Jordan Furlan in 2014. In sentencing 49-year-old Furlan for a violent incident involving a 76-year-old victim, Justice Croucher considered the impact of evidence of a brain injury some years prior to the offence, on Furlan’s moral culpability.

Justifying a sentence of three years and six months, the judge said the offender’s “moral culpability was reduced, but only to a moderate degree because his judgment was impaired as a result of his acquired brain injury”.

The judge went on to say that just punishment was an important factor (among others) in crafting the sentence.

A more striking case relates to the sentencing of former Tasmanian legislative council member Terry Martin for child sex offences. Expert evidence indicated he had developed a compulsive form of sexuality as a result of the effects of medication for Parkinson’s disease on the dopamine system of his brain.

The judge imposed a much more lenient sentence than would have otherwise been the case because of the clear link between the medication and the offending. This link was said to reduce Martin’s moral culpability.

Slow revolution

We cannot be sure how neuroscience will affect the law in future. Indeed, there may even be a backlash against this form of evidence.

What can be said is that Furlan, Martin and other cases show Australian judges still consider moral culpability, even in the face of neuroscientific evidence of impaired mechanisms. They do not move to purely consequentialist considerations.

This means retributivism is still alive and well, and just punishment still matters to Australian courts. So, at least for now, the impact of neuroscience is not revolutionary.

This article originally appeared in The Conversation and is reproduced with the kind permission of the authors. 

Central Queensland Hospital v Q: Access to abortion in Queensland and children’s ability to consent to medical treatment

 

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Image: Indybay.org

The decision in Central Queensland Hospital and Health Service v Q raises interesting issues in relation to the criminalization of abortion in Queensland and children’s ability to consent to medical treatment.

Q was a pregnant 12 year old girl who was referred to medical staff at the Central Queensland Hospital after asking her GP for an abortion. Q was finding the pregnancy “very stressful emotionally” and had run away from home, self-harmed, and attempted suicide on two occasions.

The medical specialists and counselors that had met with Q supported her decision to terminate the pregnancy, as did Q’s parents. There was evidence that continuing the pregnancy would pose significant risks to Q’s physical and mental health.

Central Queensland Hospital sought orders from the Court authorizing the termination of Q’s pregnancy. These were granted by Justice McMeekin in the Queensland Supreme Court on the 20th of April, followed by the judge’s reasons a week later.

The parens patriae jurisdiction

The Supreme Court’s parens patriae jurisdiction formed the basis for the Court’s intervention. This jurisdiction grants Supreme Courts wide powers in relation to the welfare of children, with the best interests of the child being the Court’s primary consideration.

Could Q consent to the treatment?

As I discuss in an earlier post, a child can consent to medical procedures when he or she “achieves a sufficient understanding and intelligence to enable him or her to understand fully what is proposed,” i.e., is Gillick competent (following Gillick v West Norfolk & Wisbech Area Health Authority [1986] AC 112).

Generally speaking, parents can consent to treatment on children’s behalf when they are not Gillick competent. However, there are some forms of treatment that fall outside the scope of parental consent, known as “special medical treatment.”

Justice McMeekin held that terminations are one such form of treatment (following State of Queensland v B [2008] QSC 231). Accordingly, court authorization for the treatment would be needed if Q herself was not competent to consent to the treatment.

Justice McMeekin found that Q had a good understanding of the risks involved in the procedure, but doubted that she had the maturity to fully appreciate the long-term consequences of a decision to continue with the pregnancy. Accordingly, she was unable to make a fully informed decision and was not competent to consent to the termination. As such, it was appropriate to invoke the Court’s parens patriae jurisdiction.

Could the treatment be performed lawfully?

Queensland’s Criminal Code criminalizes the termination a pregnancy, unless authorized or justified by law. Section 282 of the Code provides that a person is not criminally responsible for performing a termination so long as it is for the patient’s benefit or to preserve the mother’s life, and is reasonable in the circumstances.

Section 286 of the Code also provides that a “person who has care of a child” must provide the necessaries of life for the child, and take reasonable precautions to prevent danger to a child’s health, including their mental health. The definition of “a person who has care of a child” can include hospitals and doctors who care for children.

In determining whether the termination was lawful, Justice McMeekin followed the approach of the Victorian Supreme Court in R v Davidson [1969] VR 667, which held that an abortion would be lawful where it was believed on reasonable grounds that the abortion was necessary to prevent serious danger to the patient’s life or health, and it was not out of proportion to the danger to be averted.

Justice McMeekin held that it was clearly in Q’s best interests for termination of the pregnancy to proceed, as it was necessary in order to prevent serious danger to Q’s mental and physical health. Further, the proposed response was not out of proportion to the danger to Q’s health. Accordingly, the termination would not be considered unlawful, and it could be justified under sections 282 and 286 of the Code.

Justice McMeekin declared that: the termination of the pregnancy through the administration of drugs was lawful; Q should be permitted to undergo the termination; and the hospital’s staff be permitted to perform it. If the drugs failed to effect a termination within five days, Q’s pregnancy could be terminated using a surgical procedure.

What are the implications of the decision for access to abortion services in Queensland?

The criminalization of abortion in Queensland creates a barrier to women’s access to reproductive services. Q was forced to wait weeks for court authorization for her termination. In 2010 a young Cairns couple faced criminal charges for importing the abortion drug Misoprostol and inducing a miscarriage at home. They were ultimately found not guilty, but following that case, many doctors in Queensland stopped performing abortions.

Lucy Clark in The Guardian suggests that similar fears and uncertainties may be behind Q’s doctors’ decision to seek court authorization for her treatment. She may be right in that respect, but it must be kept in mind that the Queensland Supreme Court characterizes abortion as a form of “special medical treatment” that parents cannot consent to. Accordingly, court authorization would still be needed to perform a termination on a child that was not Gillick competent, regardless of abortion’s status under criminal law.

Kerridge, Lowe and Stewart criticize the characterization of abortion as a form of special medical treatment, arguing that it should fall within the scope of parental consent for children’s medical treatment. A change in the common law would be required in order for a termination to be performed on a non-Gillick competent child without court authorization (although the courts could still intervene under their parens patriae jurisdiction).

Nevertheless, the decriminalization of abortion in Queensland is still an important step in enhancing respect for women’s reproductive rights, and in ensuring access to abortion services.

Upcoming Conferences: Governing Food

Governing Food

Governing Food: The Role of Law, Regulation and Policy in Meeting 21st Century Challenges to the Food Supply

Dates: Tuesday 1st November – Thursday 3rd November 2016

Venue: Sydney Law School

Sydney Health Law is hosting the Governing Food Conference in November this year, in conjunction with the University of Sydney’s Charles Perkins Centre and with sponsorship from The George Institute for Global Health.

 Governing Food will bring together researchers and practitioners from a range of disciplines to explore the role of law, regulation and policy in promoting a healthy, safe and sustainable food supply. The conference will be opened by a public keynote address on Tuesday the 1st of November, to be delivered by Professor Corinna Hawkes from the Centre for Food Policy at City University London. The main days of the conference will be Wednesday the 2nd of November and Thursday the 3rd of November.

The call for abstracts and further details about the conference can be found at this address. You can also contact Dr Belinda Reeve in relation to any questions about the conference: belinda.reeve@sydney.edu.au.

We hope to see you there!