Cirrus@Austlit

'2020 has been a year of radical uncertainty. Many of us began the year choked by smoke from the bushfires that devastated wildlife and communities across much of Australia. Such fires had long been anticipated by climate scientists, though they seemed to take our politicians by surprise. If the bushfires were a predictable but horrifying disaster, few could have predicted the Covid-19 pandemic that has overwhelmed the world in the wake of the fire crisis. While epidemiologists have long warned of the threat of another global pandemic, it was nonetheless experienced by most of us as an unprecedented emergency. From panic buying to lockdown and home schooling, everyone felt its impact, and the history profession was no exception. Archives and libraries closed. Teaching moved online. Many casual staff found their employment had dried up overnight. Seminars, conferences and informal markers of collegiality all fell away as we heeded calls to flatten the curve. As if that wasn’t enough to contend with, academics around the country are now reeling in response to government proposals for sweeping changes to the university sector, which, among other things, would see student fees for history degrees increase by 113 per cent. The upheavals seem endless, and the ground is constantly shifting beneath our feet.' (Michelle Arrow , Leigh Boucher & Kate Fullagar, From the Editors : Introduction)