Abortion is a criminal offence in Malta. This means Maltese women who wish to end their pregnancy have severely limited choices. Those more affluent can pay to terminate their pregnancy abroad. Those who do not have the money can either continue the pregnancy against their will or terminate locally under unsafe conditions, risking both their health and freedom.
Any woman who undertakes an abortion potentially faces three years in jail. Anybody who assists, such as a doctor, could also be sentenced to four years behind bars. This flies in the face of best medical practice which states that safe abortion services should be accessible to women who need them.
A few weeks ago a group of doctors, including myself, came together to set up Doctors for Choice Malta in order to advocate for sexual and reproductive health. This includes comprehensive sex education (NOT abstinence-only education) and access to free contraception (condoms, pills, and intrauterine devices). Increased use of contraception alone results in fewer unwanted pregnancies and subsequent abortions. Putting contraceptives in the hands of comprehensively sex-educated individuals can do even more. This said, abortion still needs to be available to those people who need it.
As a doctor, I feel I have a duty to use my knowledge and skills to better my community’s health. Together with Doctors for Choice, we are basing our efforts not on opinions or morality, but on years of medical and sociological research which shows that sex education, contraception, and accessible abortions make a society healthier.
The irony was not lost on me when comments accusing me of being a baby-killing-mad-axe-murderer-who-doesn’t-understand-what-a-real-doctor-is started rolling in. Luckily for me, forewarned is forearmed, and the negativity failed to penetrate very deep.
What did strike me was the contrast between the way people communicate their derision and their support. Abusive comments come in fast, prominent, and loud. Supportive comments are usually sent in private. At present, it’s clearly very easy to be openly anti-choice, but very difficult to be openly pro-choice.
To those afraid to raise their voice and speak the truth, I say: whatever dogma, tradition, or a battalion of angry keyboard lieutenants might tell us, those who advocate for reproductive choice have nothing to be ashamed of. We are on the right side of history.
Read more: Marston, C., & Cleland, J. (2003). Relationships between Contraception and Abortion: A Review of the Evidence. International Family Planning Perspectives, 29(1), 6. https://doi.org/10.2307/3180995
Stanger-Hall, K. F., & Hall, D. W. (2011). Abstinence-Only Education and Teen Pregnancy Rates: Why We Need Comprehensive Sex Education in the U.S. PLoS ONE, 6(10), e24658. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0024658
In Malta, fireworks are the harbingers of summer, joy, and celebration. But news that their chemical leftovers are harming our environment and health cannot be blatantly pushed aside. How do we find the happy medium between heritage and safety? Gail Sant writes.
Achild laughs with glee as she skips along a narrow rubble wall. Her mother raises an eyebrow—’Tilgħabx man-nar,’ she calls out. Translated, the saying that warns against ‘tempting fate’ also literally means ‘don’t play with fire’, ironic when one of Malta’s national pastimes is literally fire play—logħob tan-nar. Fireworks.
With around 35 known firework factories peppering Malta and Gozo, the tradition can be traced back to the Knights of St John. They used fireworks to celebrate important occasions such as the election of a new Pope or Grand Master, and so the display became rooted in our past and more recent history, evolving with time to become the complex artform that today wins Malta acclaim the world over. But there is more to the story.
Studies have shown that there’s a dark side to this flashy spectacle. Some of the chemicals used to create fireworks are harmful, and as a result, each festa leaves behind residue which may be more dangerous than we think.
To get a better idea of the situation, we interviewed two people on opposite ends of the fireworks operation: Mr Karl Rueth, a firework crafter, and Prof. Alfred Vella, an environmental chemist who has studied some of the effects fireworks leave behind after the party is over.
Fireworks and identity
Karl Reuth
Rueth is a Dingli, born and raised. Brought up in a village that celebrates one of the most widely recognised patrons on the island, the feast of St Mary, he grew up fascinated by the annual summer bonanzas. The fact that his friends and family were involved helped too. It surprised no one when he eventually picked up pyrotechnics as a pastime. It’s been three years now, and the novelty has not worn off.
‘It’s an art form. It helps you express yourself, bringing out your unique ideas’, says Rueth.
The techniques involved, from developing specific colours to altering the shape of the blast, create a myriad of opportunities for self-expression. That said, Rueth swiftly adds, there’s much more to it: ‘It’s part of our culture. And not just for the village feasts. Every activity you care to mention involves fireworks.’
Think of events like Valletta 2018 or Isle of MTV; all of them make use of these colourful bombs to add energy and charm. ‘We advertise our island with imagery of fireworks,’ Rueth notes. And yes, a lot of press related to tourism and travel to Malta features fireworks. They create spectacles, ones which tourists appreciate and enjoy, and with tourism being one of our most important economic drivers, a glowing skyline and a free show does add value to our little island beyond the sun and sand.
The issue Rueth points out himself is the one with noise. ‘Nowadays many people see fireworks as a nuisance. It’s a reality we can’t escape,’ he says, also admitting that unfortunately, there is no real solution for this. Many within the fireworks community believe the bang is as important as the colours. However, ‘it’s all about balance,’ says Rueth.
The other side of the coin
Prof. Alfred Vella
‘If I had to live through a summer where not a single bang would be heard, Malta would have truly lost a part of its identity,’ says Vella the minute we sit down to talk about the phenomenon of fireworks on the island.
Thinking back to his time living in the US, Vella laughs, remembering how it felt a little ‘too quiet’.
Much like Sunday School’s bells, a firework’s distant boom is something we’ve grown accustomed to, a background noise. However, the comfort that comes with those chimes, flashes, and bangs hasn’t blinded him to their negative side-effects.
Vella says that one of the biggest environmental impacts fireworks have is the sheer amount of dust they leave behind. This particulate matter in the air causes many health problems, including respiratory issues such as lung inflammation, while exacerbating others like asthma. Respiratory diseases account for 1 in every 10 deaths in Malta, placing them as one of our biggest killers.
Not only does this dust fall in excessive quantity, it also contains chemicals which are either toxic or which, though initially inert, become toxic once they’re burned. ‘What we were putting in those explosives was remaining around unexploded or in the form of its products,’ Vella emphasises.
Antimony, the chemical used to create a glitter effect, changes into antimony oxide, a known carcinogen, when burned in air. Heavy metals that are used to add colour to the explosion include barium. Accumulation of barium in the body can lead to muscle paralysis, gastrointestinal hemorrhage, and even death.
Finally, Vella moves on to the main player in his research—potassium perchlorate. This chemical is a key ingredient for successful blasts. His studies suggest that a significant amount of perchlorate remains unused after the explosion, settling on our island, both outdoors and indoors. His findings show that the amount of perchlorate dust found indoors is almost twice the amount of China’s indoor dust. China. The pioneering country that invented fireworks back in the ninth century is also the country that banned their use in its capital city during the 2018 new year celebrations in an attempt to fight off air pollution.
Related research has also shown that perchlorate can interfere with thyroid function. Currently, there aren’t any studies which link the two together locally, but knowing that there’s an excessive amount of this chemical all over our environment isn’t great news. ‘Why should we have to live side by side with a chemical which is totally alien to our environment?’ Vella asks.
Finding balance
Although Rueth and Vella have different ideas of what fireworks mean to them, they both agree that some sort of compromise is needed.
‘You need to understand where people are coming from’, says Rueth, adding that for some, noise pollution lasts the whole summer, not just a week. As for their chemical effects, he’s ‘sure that some harm is caused.’ However, he also believes that more research would be beneficial, helping us to understand the topic better. To him, this is not a matter of ‘us against them,’ but about finding a way to make fireworks safe and enjoyable for everyone.
On that note of safety, Vella thinks that ‘it’s high time that we control fireworks through making perchlorate a controlled chemical.’ At the moment, of the three main oxidising agents used to make fireworks, perchlorate is the only one which doesn’t require permits.
Despite bad media framing, Vella takes a moment to emphasise that he doesn’t want an outright ban on fireworks. ‘For better or for worse, it is part of who we are’.
At the end of the day, few people can deny that the visuals fireworks give us are mesmerising. But we also need to acknowledge the science. ‘Much like alcohol consumption, a little of it is probably not all that damaging. We can tolerate a small impact of fireworks because of the benefits they give us,’ says Vella. But we cannot go through life drunk. Just like everything else, moderation is key.
Despite being one of Malta’s hottest attractions, a lot of what Comino has to offer is covered by the cool blue waters that fuel its popularity. Prof. Alan Deidun and his team have embarked on a journey to bring what’s hidden beneath to the surface, tentacles and all.
Have you ever googled Comino? Approximately 10,900,000 results pop up, and the vast majority of them relate to holidaymaking tips and weather information, with a sprinkling of research projects. Once the hideout of pirates and smugglers, the little island’s crystal-clear waters have now made it a paradise for travellers. But despite the suffocating love and attention Comino gets during the summer months, many of its wonders remain hidden underwater, unattainable to most.
This was the motivation behind Prof Alan Deidun’s most recent documentary, Comino: A Secret Paradise. An academic at the Department of Geosciences (University of Malta), Deidun is an avid diver, environmentalist, and advocate who wants ‘to bring the underwater world to people who don’t normally venture beyond the swimmer’s zone.’
Deidun’s first foray into documentary filmmaking came with Dwejra (2012), a film that featured the long-lost Azure window. Soon after were Rdum Majjiesa (2012) and Mġarr ix-Xini (2013). His big break came with Filfla (2015) which went viral and continues to do rounds on social media today. Even in 2012, the aim was always to highlight the beauty and importance of local Marine Protected Areas. In 2019, this has not changed.
Behind the scenes
The team met to film the first documentary in the series back in 2012 with Monolith Limited. The experience was so positive and fruitful that the team has remained practically unchanged since. Film after film, they all keep coming back to work together. Directed by Pedja Miletic and funded by the Malta International Airport Foundation, Comino is the fifth film in the series.
Filming took place throughout 2018, focusing on everything: marine to terrestrial, shallow to deep, diurnal to nocturnal. Deidun admitted that the team struggled with finding and filming enough organisms. ‘It took around 50 trips to Comino and back to get the footage we needed,’ he says. But the result speaks for itself.
Helping them achieve the sheen they needed for the final work, Deidun and his colleagues used a state-of-the-art 8K underwater camera. Hardware of this calibre is the sort you find on big budget productions like the BBC’s beloved Blue Planet. The camera enabled the divers to film animals from a different perspective, providing audiences with a new experience. Take, for example, the Common Octopus, Octopus vulgaris, a documentary staple whose camouflaging skills got some well-deserved attention in Comino. The camera also came in handy with more delicate, elusive creatures. The weird and wonderful Berried Sea Anemone and the Flying Gurnard, species the team hadn’t been able to capture in previous work, could now be seen in all their complexity.
Science & art for the environment
The motivations behind this documentary are complex, but one big factor Deidun mentions is a lack of science communication—a global issue.
Deidun emphasised that academics need to share their findings. ‘You can’t just publish in a peer-reviewed journal and stop there,’ he says. ‘You need to engage, start a dialogue with society.’ Because despite all of us choosing different walks of life, we share one home, and scientific findings should influence how our environment is treated. To move from research to societal action, communication is key. Scientific findings on their own quickly become stagnant, but through discussion and dialogue, they can thrive in the different layers of our communities: from quick, friendly conversations to formal government conferences. A conscious understanding of our environment leads to its conscious use.
In this case, Comino can help engage people with marine diversity and show them this complex micro-realm that ‘is not just Blue Lagoon.’
Most people know about the Damselfish (Ċawla in Maltese) or the Mauve Stinger (BRAMA! in Maltese). This might make people think that Maltese waters are safe from overexploitation, but this is far from the truth.
The animals that are difficult to see are those that need the most attention. Fauna such as the endangered Rough Ray, the protected, crimson purple Echinaster sepositus starfish and the Striped Prawn all face man-made threats.
‘This has resulted in an alarmingly low fish biomass [amount of fish] for the Maltese waters,’ Deidun says. ‘But that’s not surprising. Maltese waters are constantly fished. Overfishing is a reality.’ Even Comino, a Marine Protected Area (MPA), is surrounded by nets and fishing lines. It seems that while most of us are proud of our crystal-clear waters, we are not paying attention to the problems ailing it. ‘This is what we hope to change,’ Deidun adds.’
Comino’s future; our future
Deidun has plenty of hope. He tells us that ‘our MPAs are paper tigers for now, but the Environmental Resource Authority (ERA) is working on having approved management plans’ which need to be ready and presented to the European Commission by the end of 2019—a step towards a healthier sea with a sustainable future.
As for the future of these documentaries, Deidun has big plans, and they involve Netflix. He also wishes to add the films to digital libraries of local schools. In time, this will all feed into his vision of establishing a local ocean literary centre, a space where people of all ages can learn about our sea through science, arts, and new technology.
The Maltese are an island people. The sea is part of our heritage, a part of our identity. And we must work harder to preserve it for future generations. It is through documentaries like this one that we can appreciate and protect our home. As biologist Jane Goodall once said, ‘Only if we understand, can we care. Only if we care, we will help. Only if we help, we shall be saved.’
What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your best friend? Is it the way they wear their socks up to their knees? Is it their long curly hair that seems to have a character of its own? Abigail Galea speaks to linguist Prof. Charles Briffa about the use of nicknames in Malta’s communities.
Experiences feed into our language choices.
Dr Charles Briffa
‘Your choice of words can tell a whole story about you,’ says Prof. Charles Briffa, a linguist, researcher, and author who studies language beyond its communicative role.
Briffa looks at words and phrases as a way to understand those who speak them. ‘I see language as a reflection of people’s minds—their way of thinking, their values and priorities in life, the opinions they have, and their interpretation of the world,’ he says.
In one of his most recent publications, Il-Laqmijiet Karkariżi fil-Kultura Maltija, Briffa explores the nature of nicknames (laqmijiet in Maltese) in our communities. Commissioned by the Birkirkara Local Council, it is a collection of all the nicknames he could find for the locality.
Discussing the early use of nicknames, Briffa says they were customary for those going into battle. Warriors would choose a name for themselves and with it, a narrative of what they brought to the battlefield. ‘Our names have our identities wrapped up in them. By only making their nickname known in battle, they believed the enemy would have less power over them.’
Briffa talks about primitive man’s belief that the name was a vital portion of the self—a distinct part of man’s personality. People also believed that they could be harmed by the malicious handling of their name. And so they often hid their real names to protect themselves from evil-disposed persons who might injure their owners. The nickname was used to make this possible. Everyone could use it freely and divulge it to anyone since it held no ‘real’ part of the person it belonged to and so would not endanger their safety.
Over time, nicknames evolved into something more social. A nickname was given to you by others in your community, usually based on a trait you possessed, your job, or an experience you had been through. It became a means of describing you as a distinct individual.
For Briffa’s book, an electoral register from the early 1930s proved to be a critical source of information. He also posted about his research on a Facebook group called Muża Karkariża, asking people to give him nicknames they knew about, as well as the explanations or stories behind them. The response was astounding.
Suggestions and stories from the community came pouring in. Often Briffa needed to go through them carefully and conduct his own research. People did not always differentiate fact from hearsay. Other times, they just did not realise certain words were linked,. Take the nickname ‘Paxaxa’. No one seemed to realise that it was an alternative form of paċaċa (a Maltese vulgarity meaning ‘incompetent’ or ‘silly’).
On other occasions, Briffa encountered nicknames with numerous origins. Briffa noted everything he found; ‘I felt I had no authority to choose which was right and which was wrong.’ For example, ‘Tal-Minfuħa’ can refer to physical appearance, since minfuħa means ‘blown up’ in Maltese, but could also refer to personality, since minfuħa can mean that someone is arrogant.
After collecting all these stories, Briffa also looked into the etymology of the words. ‘Some of the names I found had unknown roots. I couldn’t find anything about them in Maltese dictionaries. In those cases, I would go back to Sicilian and Arabic dictionaries to find possible meanings.’ Some nicknames remained elusive. Briffa says he still can’t find the roots of the nickname ‘id-Didunna’. But in successful attempts, Briffa would ‘re-discover’ lost words—an occurrence that gives him joy and motivation.
This ‘linguistic archeology’ is important, Briffa tells us. It links us to an older Maltese culture, reconstructing what language and society sounded like in the past. ‘Ideally every locality would support such publications since they preserve cultural and linguistic wealth. More so, they preserve Maltese identity.’
Maltese researchers are leading the way in developing new diagnostic tools for cancer. Dawn Gillies finds out more from Prof. Godfrey Grech and Dr Shawn Baldacchino.
Breast cancer survival rates have been improving steadily in recent years. In Malta, 86.9% of patients currently survive, up 7% over the last decade. Thanks to new targeted therapies, the outlook is increasingly bright. But precision therapies need precision testing.
Breast cancer diagnosis has reached new heights and with current tests using tissue biopsies, pathologists can classify patients for specific treatment. Precision medicine goes a step further. It provides more information, predicting the aggressiveness of the cancer and measuring the number of cells from the tumour that spread into the bloodstream.
Dr Shawn Baldacchino
This does not mean that all requirements in precision therapy have been met.
At the time of writing, there is no simple method to test patients’ ongoing benefit from treatment or to measure different tumour areas from one sample. For this to be possible, we need super-sensitive tests. This is where Prof. Godfrey Grech and Dr Shawn Baldacchino at the University of Malta come in.
Detecting the undetectable
During his PhD, Baldacchino studied a new class of breast cancer representing most cases of the triple negative type, which affects 12% of breast cancer patients in Malta.
In triple negative breast cancers, tests for estrogen receptors, progesterone receptors, and excess HER2 protein all result in negatives and are associated with aggressive tumours.
To detect this new class of breast cancer, Grech’s team have created a new test that uses molecular substances we naturally produce in our body—biomarkers. By pinpointing the right combination of certain biomarkers, they can test for this new class within the triple negative breast cancer cases.
They initially used the test to look at biopsies from past patients. These exercises showed that they could accurately detect the cases—even in samples that were over a decade old! In fact, the test was so successful that the team is now working with biological testing industry giant Luminex to use it in hospitals worldwide. With a patent filed, research labs will get their hands on it later this year with the hope that by 2021 it will be used to directly help patients in hospitals.
However, there is more work ahead. Encouraged by the results so far, the team wants to take the test and other current biomarker tests a step further. They want to use a simple blood sample which is less invasive, allowing patients to be monitored during therapy.
Pushing boundaries
With the method Grech and his team have optimised, obtaining information on new classes of patients that predict therapy use, detecting different tumour areas in one sample, and the use of blood to monitor the benefits of therapy have become a
Prof. Godfrey Grech, Dr Shawn Baldacchino and the team Photo by James Moffett
possible reality. With technologies from Luminex and Thermo Fisher, they can now read over 40 biomarkers in one test simultaneously. But with blood they need a new angle. And that is happening through another test using particles that originate from cells called exosomes.
Exosomes are tiny messenger bubbles which cells release into the blood . ‘We believe that when there is a tumour in the patient, there will be a signature in these exosomes circulating in the blood,’ says Baldacchino.
Finding these exosomes could mean detecting cancer at an earlier stage than is currently possible. The team believes they would be able to detect the exosomes that point to cancer long before a tumour shows up in scans and other regular tests—and so, they would be able to nip the cancer in the bud. But to do this, they need to be able to decode the messages the exosomes are carrying.
Positives for patients
It’s not only in the realm of breast cancer diagnosis and classification that the team can help patients—they might also be able to improve treatment. ‘Most targeted therapies currently try to inhibit specific receptors and proteins to stop the uncontrolled growth of cancer cells,’ Grech says. But through their research, the team has found that targeting the low activity of specific complexes of proteins in tumour cells is key. Their research models show that increasing the activity of these protein complexes is possible using specific drugs.
This is true for triple negative breast cancer, where the amount of PP2A protein is extremely low. The PP2A protein enables the body to fight the cancer, so increasing its activity would create a chain reaction in the body which could limit the growth and spread of that category of cancer cells.
This approach to treatment has applications beyond triple negative breast cancer. Grech is hopeful that PP2A production could be amped up for different types of cancer too, and lead to positive results.
Managing the unmanageable
When organising a project like this, it’s expected that things won’t go to plan. One of the biggest challenges for Grech’s team has been establishing collaborations with other groups across the globe. They need these connections to provide the samples required to test their systems. With other groups working on similar projects, time is a limited resource. Thankfully, the team found collaborators in Leeds (UK), and Barcelona (Spain), allowing the group access to the samples they need.
What is certain is that support for this work has come in many shapes and forms. The project received funding both from public donations and the Malta Council for Science and Technology. Baldacchino also found an ally in the charity foundation Alive with the help of the Research Trust of the University of Malta (RIDT). He is the first recipient of funding from them, and their first graduate.
Predicting the future
Thanks to projects like these, cancer research has a bright future in Malta. The team has their product launch to look forward to later this year, which will see a drastic reduction to the time and effort it takes researchers and doctors to determine the type of breast tumour.
But a lot of challenges lie ahead. The biggest challenge will come in the move to early stage cancers. These cancers have low levels of substances to detect, which means that any test they develop will have to be extremely sensitive in order to be effective. Successfully identifying these cancers would signal a massive breakthrough for the global medical community—and, more importantly, for patients. Early detection through basic blood tests would open the door to early stage treatment and a higher rate of survival. Nothing could matter more.
In a world first, a small team of engineers at the University of Malta is attempting to prove that harnessing solar power in the open sea is theoretically possible and cost-effective. Laura Bonnici speaks to Prof. Luciano Mulѐ Stagno to learn more about the ground-breaking Solaqua 2.1 project.
Renewable energy is in the spotlight. In Malta—an island that is said to enjoy an average of 300 days of sunshine per year—solar power has become mainstream, enabling the country to reach its goal of using 10% renewable energy by 2020.
But any advantage Malta has in terms of abundant sunshine, it loses through its lack of another vital resource: space. Measuring just 316 km², Malta’s limited surface area means that, beyond the existing photovoltaic (PV) panels installed on rooftops or disused quarries, any land left for larger PV installations is rare and expensive.
Prof. Luciano Mulѐ Stagno
Prof. Luciano Mulѐ Stagno at the University of Malta believes the answer to this problem lies not on land, but at sea. Malta being surrounded by water, he has proposed that installing solar panels in open water, in offshore floating PV farms, could be as cost-effective and reliable as those on land—an idea that has never progressed beyond the theoretical stage anywhere in the world.
‘There are many PV projects happening on fresh water everywhere, from China and the UK to France and USA. But none of them are working on open sea,’ explains Mulѐ Stagno. ‘Their PV farms are installed in more sheltered, land-locked waters such as irrigation ponds or lakes, believing that PV farms cannot survive sea conditions. The Solaqua project aims to prove that they can survive, and do so at a comparable cost to land-based PV farms.’
When funding was secured from MCST in 2012, the previous Solaqua 1.0 project set about achieving these ambitious aims. Testing various prototypes out at sea, it confirmed that large, floating platforms were viable, cheap to construct, and could produce more power than similar systems on land.
The sea proved beneficial for many reasons. ‘The offshore panels produced around 3% more energy than similar land-based modules simply by being at sea, possibly due to the cooler temperatures at sea and a less dusty environment.’
The success of the first project inspired a second. With this one, the modular raft was designed and tested. ‘Solaqua 2.0 was financed by Takeoff [The University of Malta’s business incubator] in July 2017, with a preliminary design for the platform almost completed. Now discussions are underway about possible patents for the design,’ Mulѐ Stagno elaborates. ‘The ultimate aim is to launch a large farm in Maltese territorial water which, if it meets
Solaqua prototype 4 – testing concept of low cost structure
the cost and power output targets, will be followed by other systems worldwide.’
The Professor and his team (marine structural engineer Dr Federica Strati, systems engineer Ing. Ryan Bugeja, and engineer Martin Grech) are now starting the next phase of the Solaqua project. Before the team builds and launches a full-scale system, they have to conduct a series of rigorous wave tank tests. Using a scale model while mimicking the worst possible sea conditions that the system may encounter, the team will be able to refine the design and optimise power output by testing the effect of water motion, cooling, or even different types of panels.
‘Through Solaqua 2.1, we hope to reassure investors that the system is viable. Once completed, we will be ready to launch a full-scale system that could be used not only by islands such as Malta, but also in coastal cities around the world which have insufficient land available for PV systems.’
Investors are being invited to join this project to push for global commercialisation. To reach this stage, several local entities supported the project. The Regulator for Energy and Water Services, with the help of the RIDT (the University of Malta’s Research Trust), invested €100,000 to cover the cost of constructing the scale model, as well as testing, equipment, transport, and engineers. And now that the project is commanding international interest, potential investors are being sought for the half a million euros needed to achieve a full-scale floating solar farm in Maltese waters.
‘This is a homegrown project, in which Malta could be an example to the world,’ explains Mulѐ Stagno. ‘We have already placed Malta at the cutting edge of this research area by being the first to test small systems in the open sea. Now we need to find an investor willing to take the plunge and help us create the world’s first full-scale floating solar farm. With Solaqua, Malta could be at the forefront of a ground-breaking new global industry—one which has the potential to change the way solar power is collected and used the world over.’
When people think about the impact waste has on our environment, they usually think about toxic materials in landfills, the land they take up, and the animals harmed by irresponsible waste disposal. But there is more. Our garbage also contributes to greenhouse gases (GHG) in the atmosphere.
A staggering amount of diseases can be traced back to a genetic cause. Dr Rosienne Farrugia talks to THINK about her team’s efforts to use genome sequencing to eventually secure timely treatment for some very serious conditions.
Relationships are based on trust, communication, and mutual respect. The same can be said of Responsible Research and Innovation (RRI). Behind all the new ideas, it all boils down to a group of people, hailing from different walks of life, coming together to try and create a better future for everyone. At the fourth annual NUCLEUS conference, researchers, academics, science communicators, creatives, and business people flocked to the tiny isle of Malta to share their stories and attempts to embed RRI into their institutions and communities. As everyone settled in, dialogue flowed among delegates and the room was abuzz. University of Malta pro-rector Prof. Godfrey Baldacchino opened the conference with a question: How similar are universities and Valletta, the fortified capital that was hosting the conference? Having been constructed following Malta’s infamous Great Siege, the Knights encased Valletta in massive bastions, allowing only four small entry points. ‘Valletta is an island on an island,’ Baldacchino said. ‘Are universities the same? Are we trying to protect our own?’ The question had many heads nodding in response.
Most people in the room expressed a feeling of obligation to render knowledge more accessible, more relevant, and more digestible to a wider audience. But they encounter a myriad of challenges. Engaging with publics or policy makers isn’t easy. It means addressing different needs in different ways, sometimes even pandering to whims and flights of fancy. Most people noted issues with time, funding, and resources, calling for processes to be formalised. Others pointed to a lack of creative skills and, sometimes, general interest across the board. What also quickly emerged was frustration with the term RRI itself, creating confusion where there needn’t be any.
With all of these difficulties, however, came solutions. Dr Penny Haworth from the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity, said that in her experience ‘we need to look at what universities are already doing and work smart. Win hearts and minds.’ University of Malta’s Nika Levikov also pointed out that ‘there are a lot of people practicing RRI who are not conscious of it.’ And for those who do not believe it to be a priority, for those who do not want to engage? ‘You have to set them aside and show them it is possible in a way they understand,’ says Zoran Marković from MISANU, Serbia.
Picking up Baldacchino’s thread on bringing down the walls of universities and research institutions, Dr Annette Klinkert from Rhine-Waal University of Applied Sciences in Germany summed up her main takeaway from all the discussions. ‘What we can learn here is that it’s time to burst the bubble in which we work. Especially this field of RRI. It is time to leave our cosy little community with our results.’ The results are the various projects that NUCLEUS has been championing over the past years, bringing research to its audiences. ‘All the projects are useless if they can’t merge and get out [into society and communities],’ she emphasises. ‘If they don’t merge, they’re pointless. It is time to burst the bubble.’
With all the cranes strewn across the Maltese landscape, it appears that the construction industry is one of Malta’s primary economic drivers. But there are other, less polluting ways of generating income. Dr Ing. Marc Anthony Azzopardi discusses MEMENTO, the high-performance electronics project that could pave the way for a much-needed cultural shift in manufacturing.
