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South Africa faces interconnected challenges of developing and diversifying its economy and adapting to and mitigating the impacts of climate change. A green policy tilt is ascendant in the country, manifest in a cascading array of policies and special initiatives. Utilising concepts from the multi-level perspective on socio-technical transitions, we assess Africa's first designated Green Special Economic Zone (SEZ), Atlantis SEZ (ASEZ) in the Western Cape, a niche innovation aimed at transforming the Province's industrial base. This initiative is very ambitious in four respects: (1) it links green SEZ development in a deprived metropolitan area to the broader regional economy; (2) it utilises an innovative governance structure; (3) it promises localization economies and export potential; and (4) it connects SEZ niche experimentation with emergent renewable energy regimes. While elements are in place which might seed a sociotechnical transition, societal and political forces (i.e. landscape features) continue to limit its realisation, highlighting the immanent, structural realities shaping South Africa's economic futures.
Dimensional models of psychopathology are increasingly common and there is evidence for the existence of a general dimension of psychopathology (‘p’). The existing literature presents two ways to model p: as a bifactor or as a higher-order dimension. Bifactor models typically fit sample data better than higher-order models, and are often selected as better fitting alternatives but there are reasons to be cautious of such an approach to model selection. In this study the bifactor and higher-order models of p were compared in relation to associations with established risk variables for mental illness.
A trauma exposed community sample from the United Kingdom (N = 1051) completed self-report measures of 49 symptoms of psychopathology.
A higher-order model with four first-order dimensions (Fear, Distress, Externalising and Thought Disorder) and a higher-order p dimension provided satisfactory model fit, and a bifactor representation provided superior model fit. Bifactor p and higher-order p were highly correlated (r = 0.97) indicating that both parametrisations produce near equivalent general dimensions of psychopathology. Latent variable models including predictor variables showed that the risk variables explained more variance in higher-order p than bifactor p. The higher-order model produced more interpretable associations for the first-order/specific dimensions compared to the bifactor model.
The higher-order representation of p, as described in the Hierarchical Taxonomy of Psychopathology, appears to be a more appropriate way to conceptualise the general dimension of psychopathology than the bifactor approach. The research and clinical implications of these discrepant ways of modelling p are discussed.
Tax is traditionally viewed as the main funding mechanism for government spending. Consequently, social policy is often seen as something determined and constrained by tax revenue. Modern Monetary Theory (‘MMT’) presents a reversal of the tax-spend cycle, by identifying a spend-tax cycle. Using the UK as an example, we highlight that one of MMT’s most important, but under-explored, contributions is its potential to re-frame the role of tax from both a macroeconomic and social policy perspective. We use insights on the money removal, or cancellation function of taxes, derived from MMT, to demonstrate how this also creates possibilities for using tax to achieve social objectives such as mitigating income and wealth inequality, increasing access to housing, or funding a Green New Deal. For social policy researchers the challenge arising is to use these insights to re-engineer tax systems and redesign social tax expenditures (STEs) for creative social policy purposes.
The Mediterranean diet is rich in bioactive nutrients and may be effective at preventing cardiovascular disease and dementia. However, long-term sustainability could be limited in non-Mediterranean populations with different nutrient requirements and food preferences. To address this issue, our research group conducted two randomised controlled trials to examine whether the Mediterranean diet can be adapted to increase sustainability for an Australian population, while still providing cardiovascular and cognitive benefits. In our first trial (n = 41), we examined a Mediterranean diet designed to meet the calcium requirements of older adults by including 3–4 daily serves of dairy foods (milk, cheese and yoghurt) (MedDairy). In our second trial (n = 33), we tested a Mediterranean diet supplemented with 2–3 weekly serves of fresh, lean pork (MedPork), designed to provide an alternate source of protein. Both trials employed a low-fat control diet (LF) and a 24-week parallel crossover design, consisting of two 8-week intervention periods and an 8-week washout separating interventions. We found that the MedDairy intervention significantly increased dairy food (mean difference = 1.0 ± 0.2 serves, P < 0.001) and calcium intake (mean difference = 25.9 ± 6.8 mg/MJ, P < 0.001) compared to LF. Further, MedDairy led to greater improvements in morning home systolic blood pressure (mean difference = -1.6 ± 0.6 mmHg, P = 0.01), triglycerides (mean difference = -0.05 ± 0.02 mmol/L, P < 0.01), HDL (mean difference = 0.04 ± 0.01 mmol/L, P = < 0.01), and total cholesterol to HDL ratio (mean difference = -0.4 ± 0.10 mmol/L, P = < 0.001). The MedDairy intervention also led to greater improvements in processing speed (P = 0.04), a measure of cognitive function, as well as self-reported mood (P = 0.01). No significant differences were observed between MedPork and LF for blood pressure or other markers of cardiometabolic health. However, the MedPork intervention led to greater improvements in processing speed (P = 0.01) and mood (P = 0.03). Our findings demonstrate that a Mediterranean diet with added dairy foods is capable of delivering adequate calcium to ageing populations while providing cardiovascular and cognitive benefits. Further, a Mediterranean diet supplemented with fresh, lean pork offers comparable cardiovascular benefits to a low-fat diet and greater improvements to cognitive function and mood. Our findings are of particular relevance to non-Mediterranean populations at risk of cardiovascular disease and dementia, and offer two options for modifying the Mediterranean diet depending on dietary priorities.
The Blue Zones are known for healthy longevity and low rates of chronic disease. Common denominators between blue zones include social, environmental and spiritual foundations for good health, however there are key dietary contributors including mindful eating and a predominantly plant-based diet. the Mediterranean diet (MedDiet) is a plant-based diet and is reported to reduce the risk of overall mortality and cancer incidence, diabetes, neurodegenerative disease, heart attack and cardiovascular disease (CVD). Populations have enjoyed the health benefits of a MedDiet, for years, which could offer better health to Western countries which suffer from lifestyle diseases like obesity and heart disease. But how feasible is it to implement such a pattern beyond the Mediterranean sea? The MedLey study explored whether a MedDiet could be adhered to for 6 months and would improve CVD risk factors compared with habitual diet (HabDiet) in a population of older Australian adults. Volunteers were assessed at 3 points during the study (0, 3, 6 months) and12 months after the intervention had finished (18 months). 137 volunteers completed the trial and 128 volunteers completed the follow-up study. Participants completed a food frequency questionnaire and a 15-point MedDiet adherence score (MDAS; greater score = greater adherence) was calculated. Home BP was measured over 6 days, and cardiometabolic health outcomes were assessed. Data were analysed using intention-to-treat LMEM with a group x time interaction term comparing data at 0, 3, 6 and 18-months (12-months post-trial). At baseline the MedDiet score was 6.7 ± 0.2, 9.6 ± 0.2 at 4 months and 7.9 ± 0.3 at 18-months (p < .0001 to baseline and 4 months). The MedDiet resulted in improved systolic BP, endothelial dilatation, oxidative stress and plasma triglycerides in comparison with HabDiet, after 6 months (p < .05). These changes were not sustained at 18-months but did not completely return to baseline values. Principles of the MedDiet appeared to be somewhat maintained. Consumption of olive oil, legumes, fish and vegetables (p < .01) remained higher and discretionary food consumption (p = .02) remained lower at 18-months than baseline in the MedDiet group. We have shown that following a MedDiet for 6-months is feasible and results improvements in markers of CVD risk. Some principles of the MedDiet were maintained following trial completion, but ongoing support may be helpful in maintaining MedDiet adherence and improved health. To implement such a pattern on a population level, several considerations are required including provision of resources and information, ongoing support, creating supportive environments through a multi-settings approach.
The Mediterranean diet offers a range of health benefits. However, previous studies indicate that the restricted consumption of red meat in the diet may affect long-term sustainability in non-Mediterranean countries. A 24-week randomised controlled parallel cross-over design compared a Mediterranean diet supplemented with 2–3 serves per week of fresh, lean pork (MedPork) with a low-fat control diet (LF). Thirty-three participants at risk of CVD followed each intervention for 8 weeks, with an 8-week washout period separating interventions. The primary outcome was home-measured systolic blood pressure. Secondary outcomes included diastolic blood pressure, fasting lipids, glucose, insulin, C-reactive protein (CRP), body composition and dietary adherence. During the MedPork intervention, participants achieved high adherence to dietary guidelines. Compared with the MedPork intervention, the LF intervention led to greater reductions in weight (Δ = −0·65; 95 % CI −0·04, −1·25 kg, P = 0·04), BMI (Δ = −0·25; 95 % CI −0·03, −0·47 kg/m2, P = 0·01) and waist circumference (Δ = −1·40; 95 % CI −0·45, −2·34 cm, P < 0·01). No significant differences were observed for blood pressure, lipids, glucose, insulin or CRP. These findings indicate that Australians are capable of adhering to a Mediterranean diet with 2–3 weekly serves of fresh, lean pork. Larger intervention studies are now required to demonstrate clinical efficacy of the diet in populations with elevated blood pressure.
Intertidal biofilms are a diverse mixture of bacteria, algae as well as sporelings of macroalgae embedded in a polysaccharid matrix. As the primary colonisers of newly formed surfaces, biofilms undergo a succession of different microbe assemblage until the mature state is reached. A biofilm can act as primary producers and as such recycle nutrients in a habitat. It will influence macrobiota by providing a food source or sending out cues to settlers. Biofilms themselves will be controlled by these settlers. This interaction between bottom-up and top-down plays a crucial part for the functioning of the rocky shore ecosystems. However, the diversity of biolfilms as well as it nature to react quickly to environmental changes makes identification and quantification of the individual compounds a difficult task. Subsequently, the understanding of biofilms in general and intertidal, rocky shore microbe assemblages has always tied to techniques and methods available at the time of study. This chapter focusses on the techniques that have greatly contributed to increasing knowledge of biofilms and discusses their findings. Nonetheless, newly developed methods promise to further this knowledge of the ecological role of biofilms on rocky coastlines.
This paper examines individual differences in constraints on linguistic variation in light of Labov's (2007) proposal that adult change (diffusion) disrupts systems of constraints and Tamminga, MacKenzie, and Embick's (2016) typology of constraints. It is shown that, in pooling data from multiple speakers, some of the complexity in structured community variation may be overlooked. Data on rhoticity from speakers of Bristol English are compared to 34 previous studies of rhoticity in varieties of English around the world. Constraints found to be consistent across varieties are also found to be consistent across speakers of Bristol English, whereas those that differ between varieties also differ between individuals, implying that only those which differ are truly part of the grammar, and that these are indeed disrupted by diffusion.
The execution of Charles I left parliament facing enemies at home and abroad in 1649. European monarchs, repulsed by the killing of the king, initially refused to recognise the new regime and some, such as the Tsar of Russia, broke off trade relations. Royalist forces opposed the Commonwealth in Ireland, Scotland, the Channel Islands, the Isle of Man, and in British colonies in the Americas such as Virginia and Barbados. This opposition posed a significant danger to the Commonwealth because of the considerable naval strength commanded by the late king's supporters, who now gave their allegiance to the prince of Wales, whom they proclaimed Charles II. Between 1649 and 1653 the navy became parliament's first line of defence in dealing with these overseas threats. As N. A. M. Rodger argued, it was ‘the fear and insecurity of a military dictatorship surrounded by enemies real and imagined which made England a first class naval power’. In order to understand how this came about, this chapter will examine the final years of the civil wars from a maritime perspective. In particular it will focus on the activities and pursuit of Prince Rupert's squadron, and the vital role the Commonwealth's navy played in supporting military campaigning in Ireland, Scotland, and further afield. The navy expanded and developed in this period because of the need to deal with the variety of threats faced by the Commonwealth. Its success ensured that as the civil wars ended the state possessed a substantial and capable naval force that could see off other maritime challenges.
Royalist resurgence at sea, February–December 1649
In 1649 the most pressing danger came from the royalist coalition in Ireland (the confederates had also chosen to support Charles II), which possessed substantial military and naval resources. During the first and second civil wars, confederate privateers had lacked the strength to successfully take on English men-of-war, but the arrival of Prince Rupert's fleet at Kinsale on 21 January added a new dimension to the naval war. The royalists now possessed a large squadron of men-of-war and privateers who could undertake operations against the English navy, but in order to achieve success at sea the royalist leadership in Ireland needed to devise a strategy to make best use of their newly acquired naval strength.
Historians now largely agree that the events of the mid-seventeenth century were a truly ‘British’ crisis: that, in Conrad Russell's evocative phrase, the three Stuart kingdoms had a ‘billiard ball effect’ upon one another. Although each kingdom experienced a distinctive path to war that was contingent upon local as well as national circumstances, the collision of these circumstances resulted in conflict engulfing the whole of the British Isles and Ireland. In broad terms, Charles I's policies provoked resistance and then rebellion in Scotland and Ireland, which altered the political situation in England, sparking off issues there that were already potentially divisive.
The role and importance of naval warfare in this period of conflict is complex. In 1638, Charles I could set out a substantial fleet of state-owned men-of-war and hired merchantmen to deal with his disorderly Scottish subjects; yet by the time the king raised his standard at Nottingham in August 1642 the naval situation had altered radically. Parliament had taken control of most of the navy in which Charles had so lovingly invested during the 1630s, and the king was reduced to relying on his supporters to put ships into his service, while the rebels in Ireland had begun to acquire a force of privateers that threatened England's overseas trade. This chapter therefore seeks to examine how the opening stages of the civil wars developed from a maritime perspective. After briefly describing the tensions which emerged in Charles's reign, it will explore the navy's actions during the Bishops’ Wars in Scotland and rebellion in Ireland, how the king lost and parliament won the support of the main royal fleet, and how privateering came to be a major part of the naval strategies for all the protagonists.
The road to rebellion, 1625–38
Both political and religious problems emerged from policies undertaken by Charles's government during the 1620s and 1630s, although there has been a lively debate about just how unpopular royal governance was, provoked by a more sympathetic rendering of Charles by Kevin Sharpe and Mark Kishlansky. Few scholars have accepted their arguments entirely, and certainly some policies proved contentious, in particular financial ones. Ruling without parliament in England, Charles turned to questionable methods for raising money.
As they had in the first four years of conflict, private naval enterprise and siege operations came to characterise naval warfare between 1642 and 1646. Just as on land, the conflict at sea was largely regionalised, with the fortunes of each side ebbing and flowing as the war progressed. Each of the combatants made extensive use of ships with letters of marque and hired merchantmen to aid their cause at sea: even parliament, with their control of the navy, still relied on large numbers of privately owned vessels each year to bolster their maritime forces. Siege warfare, rather than large set-piece battles, dominated much of the military campaigning each year. Writing in the 1670s, but drawing heavily on his experiences during the 1640s, Roger Boyle, the earl of Orrery, wrote that ‘we make war more like foxes than lions and you will have twenty sieges for every battle’. Most of the key sieges that took place in these four years occurred along the coast, and the support that garrisons received by sea, or the prevention of seaborne relief from getting through, often determined the fate of beleaguered coastal outposts. In order to assess the conduct and wider significance of the war at sea between 1642 and 1646, this chapter will focus on the activities of privateers and the naval dimension of the key sieges that took place in this period.
Opening moves, September 1642–September 1643
The navy proved its worth and loyalty to parliament in the early months of fighting, by helping to ensure that key coastal outposts did not fall under royalist control. Important ports such as Bristol, Milford Haven, and Plymouth supported parliament at the outbreak of the war. The presence of men-of-war and the actions of energetic officers prevented the king's supporters from gaining footholds in a number of regions: for example, the ships sent to Sir John Hotham at Hull helped to drive royalist forces away from the town, and the naval blockade of Portsmouth proved to be effective, with the garrison surrendering to parliament in early September 1642. One daring officer even used some longboats at night to steal the Henrietta Maria pinnace from its anchorage under the guns of the city.
When the civil wars broke out in Britain, the realities of early modern war came as a shock to most of the population. It is true that the British military establishments were not entirely moribund, as historians once thought. Many Scottish, Irish, English, and Welsh soldiers served in continental armies throughout the early seventeenth century, and in the late 1630s and early 1640s returned to the Stuart kingdoms to lend their experience to the armies on all sides. Nevertheless, the majority of people living in the British Isles and Ireland had not seen warfare at first hand before it tore those islands apart.
Seafarers are an exception. The early modern sea was a dangerous place, and not just because of the natural perils that were proverbial. Seafaring was also a distinctly violent undertaking. Contemporary English ballads celebrated seamen's bravery not just because they faced storm and shipwreck, but because they could expect (and often experienced) attack by hostile ships, or indeed participated in such attacks themselves. Conflict was an ordinary and regular feature of maritime commerce, and often the two occurred concurrently: as N. A. M. Rodger has written, ‘Robbery under arms was a normal aspect of seaborne trade’ during medieval times, and in the early modern period too ‘there were few non-combatants at sea’. The maritime side of the British civil wars, therefore, has to be understood within this broader context of European seaborne warfare – warfare which, throughout the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, underwent substantial and far-reaching changes. This chapter will introduce that context, looking first at the question of privateering and piracy, then the technological changes which occurred during this period and the contemporary debates over maritime sovereignty, before examining the growth in state navies which resulted from these interrelated factors.
Privateers and pirates
The most important point to begin with is that maritime warfare was not only, or even primarily, carried out by state-owned navies during the early modern period. Indeed, Louis Sicking has argued that in any analysis of sea-power before 1650 a study of ‘naval force’ by itself is insufficient; drawing upon the Dutch term scheepsmacht, Sicking proposes instead the idea of ‘maritime potential’, representing the combination of naval and commercial shipping upon which a state could call.
Naval warfare during the civil wars mirrored the complex military situation on land in many respects. The activities of multiple naval forces, and shifting alliances between them, can make it difficult to follow the course of the conflict at sea. As we saw in the previous chapter, parliament controlled the largest navy in the three Stuart kingdoms, but its dominance at sea did not go unchallenged. The king and his supporters set out shipping in England, Ireland, and Scotland, while both the Irish confederates and the Scottish covenanters authorised privateers to sail in support of their causes. The ad hoc nature of the creation and operation of these forces meant that they all faced similar problems. These included fluctuations in strength, an overreliance on merchantmen or privately-owned warships, shortage of facilities ashore, and a lack of centralised control and administration. Historians trying to reconstruct their activities must also take into account the limitations of the surviving archival records: in particular, much of what we know of the naval activities of the royalists and confederates during the 1640s and 1650s comes from hostile parliamentarian sources. This chapter seeks to unravel these sources, to outline the activities of these naval forces, and to assess how they overcame the problems they faced in order to mount a challenge to parliamentarian naval power. It is worth noting that confederate and royalist naval efforts were larger and more sustained throughout the war than those in Scotland. The ‘limited naval policy’ adopted by the covenanters for much of the conflict, combined with the poor survival of admiralty records, makes assessing maritime activity in seas around Scotland less straightforward than it is for other regions.
Edward Hyde, first earl of Clarendon, in the famous History of the Great Rebellion, described the desertion of the navy to parliament in 1642 as an ‘unspeakable ill consequence to the King's affairs’. On a number of levels the loss of the fleet impacted on the royalist war effort. Without men-of-war at his disposal, Charles I lacked the ability to contest parliamentarian control of important ports and shipping routes; this meant his overseas trade and communications became vulnerable to interception, while at the same time the king could do little to hinder parliamentarian shipping.
On 11 October 1639 the royal navy was humiliated. In the Downs, Britain's most important anchorage, a large Dutch fleet attacked and scattered a Spanish force, in so doing defying British neutrality and claims to maritime sovereignty, while a small English squadron was powerless to intervene. This marked the end of a month's anxious watching for the English commander, Sir John Pennington, and his fellows. This Spanish fleet had been sighted near Plymouth at the start of September, carrying 12,000 soldiers for their army in Flanders (some 2,000 of them aboard English merchant ships hired by the Spanish). They soon met the Dutch in the channel, under Admiral Maarten Tromp, and in a running fight sailed eastwards until 9 September, when they sought the security of the Downs.
The Dutch ships followed them, and Pennington's squadron found themselves in the middle of a tense situation. On the night of 11 September fifteen Spanish ships escaped northwards, which provoked protests from the Dutch, as Pennington had previously forbidden them to position their ships against just such an eventuality. About a fortnight later a Dutch ‘Frigat’ sailed into Margate harbour, flying English colours, and there seized upon two small vessels carrying Spanish soldiers: complaints to Tromp were met on his part by claims of innocence and ignorance. Indeed, the Dutch admiral repeatedly insisted that he would inform Pennington before he moved against the Spanish and would do nothing to offend the British crown. However, following the direct orders he had received from the Dutch government, he eventually attacked in the midst of a heavy fog, later maintaining that the Spanish had opened fire first.
Throughout these weeks Charles I's naval administration were unprepared and indecisive, perhaps because they had just supported a wholly unsuccessful military campaign in Scotland. Pennington's repeated requests for clear instructions about how to proceed elicited only prevarication. Algernon Percy, tenth earl of Northumberland, the lord high admiral, wrote to Pennington on 10 September that he was ‘confident the Hollanders will bee so respective to the King Our Master as not to offer any violence to the Spaniards whilest they are under his Majesties protection’, and again two days later that the king was ‘well satisfied … with the Hollanders civility at this time, and doubts not, but that they will continue their faire respects to his Majestie’.