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Saturday, November 14, 2009

Awesome Guy

AN AUSTRALIAN academic at Oxford University has decided living like a
student isn't so bad, pledging more than half his career earnings to
charity.

Dr Toby Ord, a 30-year-old ethics researcher with the Future of
Humanity Institute, has agreed to give up 10 per cent of his annual
salary, plus any yearly earnings above £20,000 ($35,631).

Dr Ord says if he lives like a student, he should be able to give away
around £1 million ($1.78 million).

"My student years were not extravagant, but were immensely enjoyable,
with the chief enjoyments such as reading beautiful books and spending
time with my wife and friends costing almost nothing," Dr Ord said.

After completing Science and Arts degrees at the University of
Melbourne, Dr Ord took his Masters and PhD in ethics at Oxford, where
he is in his first year of paid work, expecting to earn about £30,000
($53,447).

He has calculated that on an academic's salary, he should earn about
£1.5 million ($2.67 million) over the course of his career.
"I realised that if I were to continue to live modestly like I have as
a student, I should be able to give away about £1 million ($1.78
million)," he said.
Interactive YOUR SAY: Could you live like a student for the rest of
your life? Tell us below

He says life on his diminished income is "very good".

"If I spent the extra money on myself I could go on holiday more
often, get an iPhone, eat out at expensive restaurants. It would be
nice but not all that much better."

On Saturday, Dr Ord will launch a society called Giving What We Can.

Members take a public pledge to donate at least 10 per cent of their
salary to organisations they believe can best use the money to fight
poverty in the developing world.

At the launch, Professor Alan Fenwick from Imperial College London
will talk about his work fighting neglected tropical diseases through
his organisation, Schistosomiasis Control Initiative (SCI).

Dr Ord will give him a cheque for £10,000 ($17,815), an amount he put
aside while he was still a student.

He is also giving money to a tuberculosis charity, the Stop TB Partnership.

"As an undergraduate, I often argued with my friends about political
and ethical matters," Dr Ord said.

"I regularly received the retort: 'If you believe that, why don't you
just give all of your money to people starving in Africa?'

"This was meant to show that my position was absurd, but as time
passed and I thought more about ethics, I found the conclusion
increasingly sensible - why not indeed?"

"More purpose in life"

The society will share information about the most effective charities
and tax-effective ways to give.

Members can choose to give their money wherever they think it will
best help eliminate suffering in the developing world.

"Once you get used to the idea, it is actually not much of a burden,"
Dr Ord said.

"I feel much more purposeful in life. What is difficult is agonising
over whether you can justify each luxury.

"By making a pledge, you don't have to do that anymore - you just live
within your new means."

....I wish I could meet him

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The making of an American soldier

There has been no shortage of front-line photography from Iraq. Images of boot camps, training exercises and welcome home parades are familiar, too. But it's unusual and perhaps unique to follow the progress of a single soldier over an extended period – to watch a gung-ho but vulnerable young man in private moments of frustration, euphoria, tiredness and despair. The Denver Post filled that gap when it sent the photographer Craig F Walker, along with several reporters, to chronicle the recruitment, induction, training and deployment of a baby-faced American soldier called Ian Fisher. The journey begins with Fisher graduating from high school in May 2007 and ends, 27 months later, with him returning from combat and setting up home with his new wife. It's a remarkably intimate visual record of a young man's struggles to serve God and nation.

Since the age of 15, Fisher had dreamed of fighting for his country. The speed at which he's pushed through is alarming, nevertheless. Within three weeks of leaving school, he joins up; within three months, he completes his basic training; after a year, still in his teens, he's off to Iraq, where he serves in the Quick Reaction Force and where he remains, apart from a brief trip home, for the best part of a year. We see a drill sergeant use bullying and sleep deprivation to make men of wayward boys. But when Fisher holds a machine gun, it's as if he's a kid with a toy.

Armies are supposed to be well-oiled machines. But Fisher's progress is far from smooth. Here he is on the phone, 36 hours after joining up: an old elbow injury has flared up (an injury he had concealed when signing up) and he is so homesick he hopes they discharge him. Here he is six months later, back in Denver with his dad, having gone awol for a few days (a fine and punishment ensue but he isn't demoted in rank). And here he is, on the verge of going to Iraq, angry with his platoon sergeant and thoroughly demoralised: "I feel like just a number in the Army. That's all I ever was."

He injures his foot. He strains his back. He's on six or seven different kinds of medication ("at least it's not coke, ecstasy, weed"). But it's not his injuries that betray the strain he's under so much as the vacillations in his love life, which he pursues, even in Iraq, via his mobile phone. In June 2007, the day before he joins up, there's a photo of him at a fairground, on the big wheel, kissing his girlfriend Ashley. By December he's engaged to Kayla, who smiles as she shows her ring. Cut to March 2008 and he's with another Ashley after breaking up with Kayla. Then comes Kirsten, who lasts from August till November, when he tears up her photo. In March this year he meets Devin: they marry in a register office three days after his return from Iraq. "Everyone gets counselled in Iraq that life is not going to be like your fantasy when you get back home," Ian says. "Well, I'm checking this off my fantasy list."

The Denver Post blog on which this photographic essay appears is packed with comments. Some see a tale of pride and courage, others a propagandist endorsement of the US war effort. But the real story is the old story, unchanged since Wilfred Owen told it: the use of boys who know no better as cannon fodder. Ian Fisher may have survived but plenty haven't. And even his happy ending is only provisional.



Tuesday, November 10, 2009

what is the best paid job

ENGINEERING managers in their late 30s are the nation's best-paid workers.

The managers are earning average annual salaries of $136,700, more than general managers and financial dealers.

Others earning big money include anaesthetists, surgeons, MPs and dentists, a survey shows.

By contrast, florists are doing it tough on an average $493 a week, as are pharmacy sales assistants ($518), fast food cooks ($520) and livestock farmers ($523).

The survey, What Jobs Pay, is based on ABS data collated by labour analyst Rodney Stinson.

The figures show average pre-tax earnings, including overtime and allowances.

Mr Stinson said the top job of engineering manager was a new classification linked to construction and mining.

"This has come out of the blue," he said.

"A decade ago, the only mining employees in the top 10 were young geologists and geophysicists, who were putting in very long hours in the field."


Mr Stinson said the incomes of medical and legal professionals tended to be underestimated due to tax minimisation options open to the self-employed.

"Also, with regard to the best-paid occupations, their averages are considered to be lower than might be expected because of the income cut-off (of $2000-plus a week) for the highest-earning Census and survey respondents," he said.

Mr Stinson said the growth of the security industry showed that people with very basic qualifications could command high wages.

For example, security "consultants" get an average $1813 a week, more than electrical engineers and school principals.

Mr Stinson said the ABS data under-estimated the pay for jobs such as hairdressing ($555) and flower-selling ($493).

"People in these jobs are obviously not telling the truth. The figures are unbelievable," he said.

Mr Stinson said cash payments not declared by employees were a big factor.

Highest earners: engineering manager ($2562), general manager ($2276), research and development manager ($2172), financial dealer ($1976), anaesthetist ($1957), mining engineer ($1955), surgeon ($1953), legislator ($1950), psychiatrist ($1909), internal medicine specialist ($1897).

Lowest earners: florist ($493), pharmacy sales assistant ($518), fast food cook ($520), livestock farmer ($523), cafe worker ($523), cook ($539), waiter ($541), mixed crop and livestock farmer ($543), checkout operator, office cashier ($546), sewing machinist ($554).

from news.com.au

How money value changes : then and now

Money: Spending then and now

Silver screen:

The number of Australians going to the cinema has fallen over the decade. Maybe price has something to do with it.

In 2000, the most you'd pay for a cinema ticket was $13.50. Today, it's up to $20 in some capital cities. Then add in the popcorn, drinks, choctops...
Who's lovin' it?:

The Economist's BigMac index shows we paid $2.59 for a Big Mac in 2000, compared to $3.45 today. Still tasty though.

Work hard for the money:

We're working harder than ever, but is it worth it? Seems like it - a full-time worker pockets an average of $1197.50 a week today, compared to $772 in 2000.

Black gold:

Fluctuating petrol prices that seem like a rip-off were the scourge of frustrated commuters during the Noughties. And no wonder - the average price of petrol rose from under 90c per litre to around $1.50, and at one point we handed over more than $1.70. And just between us, 38c of that is tax.
Music:

Back in 2000, most of us wouldn't hesitate to fork over $30 for a CD. Now, we're more likely to pay around $10 for a CD or $1.62 for just our favourite song on iTunes.
Tax and spend:

When the Noughties dawned, a worker earning $50,001 was in the 47 per cent tax bracket. That's been bumped back repeatedly over the decade so the same wage today hits a 30 per cent tax rate. Today's top rate of 45 per cent doesn't kick in until you hit $180,000.
Staying healthy:

The proportion of people with general private health insurance rose from 39 per cent at the start of the Noughties to more than 51 per cent today. That usually won't cover a trip to the GP though - where we pay an average of $62 and get $33.55 back from Medicare.

Building wealth:

The nation's average house price in March 2000 was $221,300. The Real Estate Institute's latest available data this year put the national average house price at $446,400.
Share the wealth:

The value of the shares on the All Ordinaries index 10 years ago was around half of what it is today, according to Standard & Poor's data. S&P says the value of the index at the end of 1999 was around $546 billion. Today it is around $1.27 trillion.
Who wants to be a millionaire?:

Plenty of us, it seems. Excluding the family home, the number of Australian millionaires hovered just under 100,000 a decade ago, then swelled to a peak of 168,000 in 2007 as we became one of the top 10 richest countries. The GFC put a stop to that, with a plunging share market taking the number of millionaires to 129,200 last year. But don't feel too bad - the average Aussie millionaire has about $4 million socked away.