MIKA TSOI
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
See Gravity.
If you didn’t like the trailer, see it anyway, on a big screen in 3D.
While vistas aren’t possible without a horizon, they are breathtaking.
Sandy B plays her astronaut scientist overachiever doctor well. Clooney is Clooney.
 
They are out on a spacewalk, when a debris shower destroys their shuttle.
As far as thrillers go, being stuck in space with the air running out is a good way to make our heroine vulnerable. The ride gains much from its simplicity. Don’t go for scientific accuracy, but for an action thriller meditation on life and meaning with a feminist heart.
 
Mika Tsoi

EQUITY UNCLE
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
Dear Equity Uncle,
What am I going to do with my life? I don't have  a job and am about to finish. Please don’t let the mean kids in the elevator make fun of me.
CBF: Existential Crisis
 
Dear Mr CBF,
Who even writes the Agony Aunt column? Equity might be published in these pages but Equity does not condone them all. Your dilemma – H3 average and ‘tingly, tingly hot’, or H1 average as ‘middling’ has one simple answer in Equity. And it mostly involves impertinent aside about the word ‘tingly’. Equity frowns on an absence of imperti¬nent asides.
 
Anyway, Equity takes as done that which should be done, which surely means that Equity takes as not done that which should not be done. So, you know, do what makes you, you know, happy.
 
Equity was never required to sit exams or apply for jobs, because Equity lived in England and was a Caucasian male for a bit there. So perhaps Equity is not the best source of career advice.
 
As for the mean kids in the elevator… Equity will have a quiet word with Mr Bleijie. Such a great man. In such a great State.
 
Kind regards,
Equity Uncle
 
 
Equity Uncle

ANDREW MICHAELSON
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
I seem to have been a little hard on the Law School lately. In the pages of De Minimis this year I’ve poked fun at its bragging about global ranking, its ridiculous parking and loud typing students among other trivialities. All true of course, but a little harsh nonetheless.
 
Complaining is something we might rely too much on as a crutch when we see a problem. Identifying an issue is by all means a useful exercise (and an easy way of writing a weekly 300 word column), but if nothing productive is actually accomplished from it, it’s pretty pointless. I think in a sense we often forget how much easier it is to throw rocks from the sidelines than to actually make a contribution.
 
So I thought it might be a good time to point out something nice about my dear old alma mater.
 
When people ask about what I like about the Law School, I can easily riddle off the stock standard lines: “fascinating course work”, “finally learning something practical” and so on. The truth is though, the best thing about the Law School, the thing that keeps me coming back, is the students.
 
I didn’t make a tonne of friends with my fellow Arts students during my undergrad. You could probably chalk that up to my general deadbeat personality, but I never really got the impression that it was the thing to be done. We’d all show up to tutes, have a few laboured discussions with the tutor, and then walk out the door.
 
When I started Law though, that all changed. I suspect those 3 hour breaks between classes in first year were just a ploy to force us to get to know each other to fill in the time, because it definitely worked.
 
Law School can be a bloody harsh mistress at times and if I make it through it will be because of the friends I made in Group 10 way back in LMR. All the STS tutes, academic consultations and expensive textbooks in the world couldn’t match the support and reassurance I’ve received from these people.
 
So hearty thanks are owed to these brilliant, intelligent, creative, magnificent men and women.
 
Especially also to those often unappreciated Law Students who toil away organising events, activities and publications for the benefit and amusement of their peers. From De Minimis writers to LSS committee members, they all deserve our thanks for the work they do (especially De Minimis writers).
 
Andrew Michaelson is a delicate flower in a sea of emotions. Get lost in his waves!
 
Andrew Michaelson

CHRISTINE TODD
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
One month out from exams I committed the very worst of law student crimes: I gave up caffeine. No coffee, tea, or otherwise legal stimulant was to enter my system. Such a radical and unchar¬acteristic move was mostly prompted by financial necessity, with $50 a week, donated to the work of our local baris¬tas, mixing unkindly with insurmount¬able student debt. While it was getting kind of neat having them know my order before I walked in, I knew they only smiled because I’d brought money and desperation.
 
Day 1 was hard. I’d stupidly decided to commence my experiment on a day where I had four straight hours of class starting at 9 am. I stayed in bed with a headache until 2 pm, and in a blind haze begged my partner to bring me our last-resort stash of instant coffee. Instead, she drank a cup of tea in front of me, and criticised my life choices.
 
Day 3 was better, but other students had the nerve to drink coffee in the same building as me. The mood swings were a-swinging, and I considered grand theft latte. By day 6 I was starting to feel almost hu¬man again, or as human as one can feel crying face-first into the Corporations Act.
 
Beyond the blinding caffeine headaches and mood swings, there have been a few benefits. The body, after a period of initial, screaming adjustment, eventu¬ally becomes self-sustaining. Where previously I would have awoken in a daze, stumbled towards the kitchen, and instructed the toaster to whip up along black, I now awoke naturally and with a clear head. Where previously my concentration would wane and I’d need to halt study for caffeine top-up breaks at 11 am and 3 pm, I could now concen¬trate for longer periods on procrastinat¬ing.
 
It made me wonder why law students rely so religiously on coffee. It had to be more than just the long hours and the incessant need for comfort. That was what happy hour was created for. Per¬haps it had more to do with its perceived connection to achievement. There is nothing quite as sweet as victoriously finishing your case summary and taking that triumphant walk downstairs to col¬lect your prize brew. Not only that, you get to carry it back upstairs and smack it firmly back down on your desk in front of all the other suffering schmucks, that being the internationally renowned sign of ‘I’m Getting Shit Done’.
 
Maybe we’re all just a little bit ad¬dicted. A strong word, addiction, but a real one. I made the startling connection when I realised that if I replaced all of my usual coffee-dependence sentences with “vodka” or “cocaine” I’d have some¬thing to worry about.
 
For example:
“Oh god, there’s no way I’m sitting through that class without a shot of cocaine”.
“I can’t start my day without my vodka”.
“I’ll have the breakfast muffin and a double shot of amphetamines with chocolate sprinkles, thanks”.
And so on and so forth. Having shaken my caffeine dependency, I now face entering my first ever exam period without it. It may be a disaster. Or I may just find clarity amongst the panic. Okay, that’s just wishful thinking. Good luck everyone!
 
Christine Todd

CHRIS AMBAS
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
Chris Ambas takes us on a jurispruden¬tial adventure into the question of gender identity and the law through Wittgen¬stein’s and Bordieu’s theories (Google them, of course). For the unabridged version, go to mudeminimis.com.
 
In AB v Western Australia, the High Court had to decide whether two individuals identified as females at birth should be granted gender recognition certificates under Western Australia Gender Reassignment Act after having undergone both surgical and hormonal interventions.
 
In general, people can’t be mis¬taken about their gender identity
Reasons play a justificatory role insofar as they fulfil their ‘probative function’. The probative function is the means by which the acceptability, truth, plausibility, likelihood etc., of a reason is ‘transferred’ to the belief it supports. In order for a reason to perform this func¬tion, it must be more certain than the belief it supports.
 
Similarly, whenever a doubt is cast upon a belief, it too must be supported by a reason. A reason marshalled on behalf of the doubt in question must be more certain than what is doubted. Otherwise, we would not have better reason for accepting the belief express¬ing the doubt in question than what is doubted. ‘The game of doubting itself presupposes certainty’.
 
There are three reasons as to why all beliefs stand in need of justification. First, doubts are predicated upon rea¬sons. Second, reasons must be more cer¬tain than the beliefs they support. Third, in order for a reason to be more certain than what they support, they themselves cannot stand in need of justification. Otherwise, they could not perform the probative function.
 
A belief that is exempt from justifica¬tion is – to borrow Duncan Pritchard’s expression - optimally certain. Accord¬ingly, such beliefs are not susceptible to doubt. Remember: rationally doubting a belief depends upon marshalling sup¬port for one’s doubts which happen to be more certain than the thing doubted.
 
How do we account for the veracity of optimally certain beliefs? We can’t do it on any rational basis. In other words, such beliefs are not the products of in¬quiry. Instead, they are something more visceral.
 
So, are first-person gender ascriptions (e.g., ‘I am a man’, ‘I am a woman’, ‘when I was born, my doctor identified me as a female, but I am really a man, etc.’) opti¬mally certain? If they are, then the sug¬gestion that anyone could be mistaken about their gender identity is misguided.
 
For Bourdieu, gender attributes emanate from habitus. ‘Habitus’ refers a set of internalized, institutionalized pat¬terns of social behaviour. So, assuming one gender identity rather than another is, in general, not the result of a discur¬sive process – e.g., weighing reasons or evidence for and against being a woman as opposed to being transgendered.
 
Accordingly, gender is among the ungrounded ways of acting that make up our ‘world picture’. It’s one of the instincts or primitive responses that lie at the foundation of our justificatory prac¬tices. We can’t be mistaken about first person gender ascriptions; they’re among the standards we use to determine whether a belief is mistaken. If, for ex¬ample, I were to receive a letter marked ‘To: Mrs Ambas’, I would know that the sender had made a mistake. I would not count the letter as evidence against my ungrounded belief that I am a man.
 
The High Court in AB v Western Aus¬tralia did not directly affirm the notion that we can be mistaken about our own gender identities. However, this claim is implied by their interpretation s 15 of the Act at paragraph 35 of the decision:
“The question whether a person is identified as male or female [is a] ques¬tion of how other members of society would perceive the person, in their day-to-day lives.”
 
So, if you think  you have a particular gender identity but the rest of society might not agree with you from a judge’s point of view, then you’re mistaken.
 
But this view is completely at odds with both the empirical data on gender identi¬ties and the unique, epistemological status of first person gender attributes.
 
There is a better way of interpreting the s 15 of the GR Act. Unfortunately, this article is already way too long.
 
 
Chris Ambas

REEGAN GRAYSON-MORISON
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
While the Class of 2013’s Valedictory Dinner seemed to go smoothly, some took point with David Hastie’s Valedic¬tory Address. Reegan Grayson-Morison offers a rebuttal.
 
In the various bits and pieces I’ve writ¬ten, I’m sure it’s obvious that I’m a bit of a cynic and inherently critical of most everything around me. Following Dave’s speech, I thought it important that a counter-argument was presented with respect to his comments about the Law School. I do not believe that everything he said was representative of the views across our whole cohort.
 
Contrary to Dave’s comments, I do not think that it is only the LSS that as¬sists students in finding graduate jobs. I think that Dave’s scepticism of the support that the Law School and its staff give to students was ill-advised, brash and, I believe, unfounded, notwith¬standing the fact that many people who applauded him afterwards seemed to agree with his sentiments.
 
While I agree that the LSS does have various initiatives geared towards find¬ing a position with the top-tier law firms (unsurprising given that most of their funding comes from the firms them¬selves), the GLSA, the Later Law Stu¬dents Network and the Public Interest Law Network are also actively informing students about a variety of career paths in the law.
 
Being accepted as a student to the top law school in Australia does not guarantee you a graduate position – it is up to you to put in the work and earn your way into a top-tier firm, if that is the direction you desire.
 
I haven’t been happy with every mark I’ve received, and maybe I would have been happier if I’d had every top-tier HR person schmoozing me so I’d take a job with them, but life carries on. Blaming others for something so trifling has never helped anyone get very far unless you happen to be one of the Kardashians.
 
I empathise with those students who have yet to find a full-time, graduate position – I’m in the same boat myself. However, as an individual who has already had the experience of searching for a post-graduate position, following my initial degree, I can vouch for the fact that the Law School and its staff are categorically more supportive than those I had interactions back then.
 
The law school offers many opportuni¬ties for students to expand their skill set to prepare for the post-law job search: the mentor program, the Judge-in-Residence program, CV and application workshops, internship opportunities, wellbeing support, as well as organising speakers from academic, professional and governmental bodies to present to the students.
 
This is not to mention the personal mentoring that lecturers provide to their students and, in my personal experi¬ence, there is more than one member of teaching staff who has actively engaged with us.
 
For this, I would like to extend my sincere thanks to the hard-working, dedicated staff of the Law School, as well as to all of the student groups who work hard to support students in what¬ever path they take in law – your efforts certainly should not go unrecognised.
 
Reegan Grayson-Morison

DE MINIMIS
Volume 4, Issue 12, (Originally Published on 21 October 2013)
 
Given our recently overbooked speak¬ing schedule, De Minimis was unable to provide the Class of 2013 Valedictory Address. (Thanks for the invite, though!) For that reason, and to assuage those who were forlorn due to our absence, we thought to offer some remarks at the end of Semester Two, 2013.
In the two years since our re-birth in 2012, De Minimis has witnessed three LSS Presidents come and go, and, inci¬dentally, three Prime Ministers, too. We will surely remember their respective accomplishments, at least as much as they’ll remind us.
 
We would like to say thank you to our readership, the lovers and the haters, the MLS students and, apparently, the faculty and staff who have started your academic weeks with us.
 
Whether you nabbed a copy of De Minimis to catch one of our feature sto¬ries, or because you ran out of paper to shred or bookmark your textbooks with, we’ve worked hard to publish something of interest to everyone.
 
To that end, we’ve covered student elections, reported on a slew of speakers and panels, and given students an outlet to express themselves and share their thoughts and experiences in and out of Law School.
 
But, seriously, who really has a life out of Law School? To those just escap¬ing the confines of this (literally) ivory tower, bon courage!
 
And for those sticking around, if you have enjoyed the weekly reads, why not consider getting involved?
Our weekly endeavour is only as good as the talent that take a little time out of their gruelling academic schedules to report, opine, offer clearly professional advice and deliver entertainment to the cohorts of jurisprudes.
 
And to our committed staff and con¬tributers, a major thank you. Running a volunteer-driven newspaper couldn’t manage without you.
 
 
De Minimis