My own private Amazon
<p>As an environmental scientist working at an Australian university, I’m scarred by the thousands of cuts inflicted upon the natural world and those institutions and individuals entrusted to monitor its wellbeing. A colleague quipped that being a biologist in the 21st century was like being a curator of a national gallery that was ablaze; our entire lives spent torn between deciding which priceless artworks to grab on the way out; which lineages, which ecosystems to save. Sofie’s Choice played on the widest of screens. As well as losing the species we study and places we cherish, our workmates and collaborators succumb. Those whip-smart researchers with freshly-minted degrees you meet at conferences presenting elegant work already challenging paradigms? You might cross paths again in the next couple of years but chances are they won’t become peers. What outsiders label a leaky pipeline, insiders know to be a crumbling aqueduct; obstinately obsolete. Most science PhD graduates join the banking sector,</p>
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