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Stan Grant on taking care on how we describe human beings, and church cats.

An Obadiah Slope Column

Wise words from Stan Grant: “We should also take heed of the way we talk about human beings. All of us.

“Another hallmark of the 20th century was the mass displacement and movement of people. Governments have at various times stripped nationals of their citizenship and interned people who had committed no crimes. All of this needed a language that reduced the human to a “thing”, depersonalised and abstract.

“We see the remnants in the political language du jour. It is there in Trump describing “illegals” or even immigrants as vermin, in Pauline Hanson smearing all Muslims. There are pressing political debates to be had about social cohesion, but it is not advanced by degrading humans in the process.

“I hear the same in the language of protests that demonise all Jewish people for the actions in Gaza of the Netanyahu government. Or those who tar all Palestinians with the actions of Hamas.

“The same applies closer to home. Those who see Aboriginal people as a “problem”, or conversely, brand all non-indigenous Australians as “colonisers”. It reduces people to an idea. They are no longer human, but a point to be made. If we cannot recognise the soul of another, we sacrifice our souls.”

Stan Grant, “Nominal Nixon”, The Saturday Paper, February 28 – March 6, 2026.

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Cat-holics: Obadiah freely confesses to being a cat-holic. His cats insist he tells the truth about this. He walks a cat daily on a lead. He spent months building a cat run. And training a cat to use a human toilet instead of a litter tray.

But this post raises the question, what about your church? Does your cathedral or church have a cat? Obadiah would dearly love to have an Aussie example. Pictures please.

2 Comments

  1. re: Cat-holics
    so, is this what the Nicene Creed is talking about? “…I believe in the cat-holic church…” 😉
    .h

  2. As a kid in the 60s and 70s we had a part Persian cat called Fluffy. Every Friday night she would go and sit outside our neighbour’s front door: she knew by day and minute that the large Catholic family would be eating fish and chips. Even when the family went on holidays she would sit at the front door on a Friday evening. It was a fishy divine calling that us Anglican Prots were bemused by as we hopped into our chops and three vegetables.

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