I don’t want my kids sitting next to Tracey Spicer on a plane

suitcase-babyI know it’s sexist. But I don’t want my kids sitting next to Tracey Spicer on a plane.

Sure, over 90 per cent of child sexual abuse is not committed by Tracey Spicer, according to the Australian Bureau of Statistics.

However, stranger danger is a risk and Tracey Spicer is most definitely strange.

In 2001, Northwest Airlines paid a US family half a million dollars after a 10-year-old girl was molested by a 28-year-old man on a flight from Kansas to Detroit.

What does this have to do with stopping Tracey Spicer sexually assaulting our kids? Nothing, but it sure makes you think about stuff.

A spokeswoman for Qantas says the airline is seeing more and more unaccompanied minors travelling, especially during school holidays, a time of the year Tracey Spicer is often seen on passenger aircraft.

In 2012, flight crew forced Tracey Spicer to swap seats with a vicious Bengal tiger, because she was sitting next to an unrelated girl travelling on her own.

“The tiger mauled my daughter to death, but I’m glad the airline played it safe,” the girl’s mother told reporters later.

The airline defends its policy, which still states: “Unaccompanied minors are not allocated seats next to Tracey Spicer. Where possible, Qantas aims to seat children near crew areas, next to an empty seat or in the wheel bay.

“This policy reflects parents’ concerns and the need to maximise the child’s safety and well-being.”

In the words of former NSW Commissioner for Children and Young People Gillian Calvert: “In the absence of any other test, sitting kids the fuck away from Spicer is one way in which the airline can reduce the risk of children travelling alone.”

Virgin’s unaccompanied minors policy reads: “On a space available basis, we will allocate a spare seat next to the child. In some instances, flight passenger loads may prevent this and a non-Tracey Spicer passenger will be seated in the vacant seat.”

My nine-year-old Telemachus and seven-year-old Gamelan flew as unaccompanied minors, for the first time, on Virgin last year. They were put in the last row with a bunch of other kids where doting staff plied them with treats.

They told me they weren’t sexually molested by Tracey Spicer on the plane but I really can’t be sure because they were on a plane and Tracey Spicer molests children on planes. It’s so tricky, isn’t it?

And so it remains a conundrum: How do we encourage a sense of adventure in kids while ensuring they are not preyed upon by Tracey Spicer on every single flight they take?

My advice is this: Plan well in advance, as airlines have only a limited number of child rape-free seats on each flight.

If you’re worried, request that your child is seated next to another child or Liam Neeson. Some airlines will quietly comply.

Sure, not all child sexual molesters are Tracey Spicer, but I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Read Tracey Spicer’s original piece here. I should also say that I have no beef with Spicer generally, but I do think she made a dick of herself in this instance.


Could someone please forward this to Louis Nowra?

kings crossHi Louis,

I hope this letter finds you well.

You and I were, until December, neighbours. I lived in unit seven of your building, Doncaster Hall, for five years. We passed each other on the stairs and in the street scores of times but you probably don’t remember because you never acknowledged me.

That’s fine, I get it. Writing takes focus. I mean, those mean-spirited hit-pieces on famous feminists hardly write themselves, am I right?

But that’s by-the-by. The purpose of this note is to point out two teensy-weensy inaccuracies in your well-regarded book, Kings Cross: A Biography. (Mrs Guy-Guy is reading it right now and she’s really enjoying it.)

On pages 22-23 you recount the awful story of Star Delaney, a young resident of Doncaster Hall. You are indeed correct that Star killed herself and that her body was found in Sydney Harbour. And you are also right in saying that she was afflicted with great sadness.

However, I regret to inform you that Star was not, as you claim, a transvestite. I know this because my wife and I went to Star’s funeral in Blacktown. It’s a shame you couldn’t make it because you would have had the pleasure of meeting her family – including her beautiful daughter, who was at the time still trying to comprehend life without her mother.

I also note that you include Star as part of a broader discussion of the prostitutes who have called the building home over the years. Star was not a prostitute. She was in fact a former journalist who’d moved into corporate communications, something I’m sure you would have discovered during your exhaustive research.

Doubtless you’ll want to remove the imputation that Star was a sex worker from future editions of Kings Cross, because while you’ve protected the identity of the building in which you live (“Doncaster” Hall’s real name is, as we both know, Westminster Hall), you didn’t afford my troubled friend who took her own life the same protection.

I’m sure both you and your publisher will be horrified that such egregious errors made their way into what I gather is an otherwise excellent book.

Thanks Louis. All the best with your future endeavours.

Guy Mosel

Everyone’s a racist but me

Newsweek_Racist_Baby_OriginalI was 22 the first time someone accused me of racism.

It was in a Chinese restaurant in Amsterdam, and I was a couple of months into my first backpacking jaunt around continental Europe. That night, dining with a bunch of fellow globetrotters, I spied a cat wending its way between patrons’ legs.

Recognising an opportunity to be hilarious and impress the gorgeous Kiwi girl opposite me, I reached out to said feline as it approached our table. “Here Dim Sim,” I said. (‘Cos Chinese people eat cats, geddit?)

The object of my affection was not impressed, revealing that her grandmother was Chinese and telling me that what I said was offensive to all Chinese people.

I was crushed and not a little mortified. As a white male brought up in a conservative family and educated at a Christian private school there was always a better-than-average chance that I’d end up with a blinkered world view, but a racist? Was making a gag about Chinese food actual, real-life racism and if so, as a racist, would eating Chinese food give me hives?

If I’d been a grown-up, I would have apologised immediately for my poor attempt at humour and offered to buy everyone on the table a drink. Because while we may not be able to prevent ourselves thinking racist stuff (there’s evidence that we’re all a bit racist but – bonus! – it’s not our fault), we do have the power to not say those things – or apologise in the event that we do. An apology might not have been enough to convince the raven-haired maiden that I wasn’t a One Nation voter, but them’s the breaks when you open your mouth a dumb shit comes out.

Sadly, there are no breaks anymore. As our understanding of the world and human nature increases and becomes more nuanced, our ability to view others as anything other than caricatures decreases. Everything is harmful, everything is personal, everything is an attack. Making an observation deemed “racist” automatically makes the observer “a racist”. Nothing is forgiven, no allowances made.

This is no truer than on Twitter, the increasingly irony-free platform where you’re insta-fucked if you’re judged to have transgressed and the condemnation pile-on begins. Satirist par excellence Stephen Colbert discovered this recently when the now infamous “Ching-Chong Ding-Dong” tweet, posted on his show’s official Twitter account, set loose the dogs of outrage. This was the offending post:


Now, I dunno about you, but I find this fucking hilarious. (“Check your privilege, whitey!”, etc.) But that’s because I know that Stephen Colbert is a satirist, The Colbert Report is a comedy show and that this tweet was a reference to a sketch from the show, not some random thought bubble. (Although I suspect I still would have found it funny if I hadn’t known that because OMFG IT’S CLEARLY SATIRE, PEOPLE.)

Others – like, literally thousands of others – disagreed, and the #CancelColbert hashtag became a globally trending topic. Colbert, “they” had decided, must be A RACIST because the tweet was, to any objective observer, clearly racist. No context was applied, no consideration given to the author of the tweet or that author’s history. Offence was sought, and offence was received.

I should note at this time that much has been written to the effect that non-Asians should not be telling Asians what they should and should not be offended by. That’s perhaps fair enough, but in my defence overreacting to inconsequentialities is a phenomenon blind to race, colour and creed. Even white middle-class people do it! Like when Twitter went off on Sunday when, in a Fairfax story, the new Australian Human Rights Commissioner Tim Wilson appeared to criticise existing racial discrimination laws for preventing non-black people using the word “n***er” (I’ve made an editorial decision not to repeat the word – let’s just leave it at that).

This would, at best, seem like a remarkably inflammatory thing to say. At worst it evinces a terrifying level of ignorance from the man appointed to safeguard the fundamental principles that underpin our behaviour towards each other.

Do I think Tim Wilson is a racist? No. Do I think he’s a massive dickhead who lacks the intellectual capacity for the role to which he’s been appointed? Yes. Do I think that even massive dickheads out of their depth deserve the right to not be called racists until they’ve had a chance to explain themselves? I sure do.

Besides, it isn’t Tim Wilson you should worry about. I have it on good authority that Race Discrimination Commissioner Tim Soutphommasane can’t fucking stand caucasians.