Commercial surrogacy - the practice of paying someone to gestate your child and then hand it over when it's born - is banned in Australia, but it has its supporters. Defenders of commercial surrogacy argue that it should be legal for someone to receive payment for the labour of carrying a child, on the grounds that surrogacy constitutes a legitimate form of work. But are there some things that just shouldn't be for sale? This week we're testing the arguments.

The traditional philosophical view of belief is that it's a rational cognitive affair, evidence based and directed toward truth. According to this account, things like delusion and religious belief are "edge cases", exceptions that prove the rule. But this week we're considering not only that belief may be closely tied to emotion, but that it may actually be a form of emotion itself.

Collins Dictionary made "permacrisis" their word of the year in 2022 - a prescient choice because since then, the crises have just kept coming. Permacrisis is forcing us to take a close look at the way we communicate, because while free public discourse is one of the cornerstones of democracy, there's something about the nature of today's public discourse that fuels crisis, and keeps us frozen in a fight-or-flight posture.

Elite sport is traditionally a celebration of the human, but for how much longer? We watch in awe as athletes perform feats of skill, strength and endurance,  and experience the high drama of triumph and defeat -  but it's all on a human scale, or at least it has been until now. Sport and technology have always been intertwined, but with the advent of AI, this week we're wondering if the human element of sport - the physical dimension, but also the ethical - might be under threat.

Why are we so repelled yet fascinated by bodily waste? Today we're talking purity, pollution, colonial sanitation regimes, medicine and public health, and how they've been shaped by our deeply ambivalent attitudes to the stuff we all produce (ideally) every day, but rarely think about deeply.

There's a certain kind of question that raises suspicion as to the motives of the person asking it. 'Was the Holocaust really as bad as historians have made out?' 'Is there really a scientific consensus on climate change?' 'How do we now for sure that vaccines aren't harmful?' These kinds of questions can be read on the surface as innocent enquiry, but sometimes they can function as a kind of epistemic sabotage, casting doubt on settled issues and seeking to undermine confidence in established truth. How can we tell the difference between sincerity and bad faith? And how should we respond to the latter?

To call the effects of a fire, flood or cyclone these days a 'natural' disaster only tells part of the story, as climate change makes us realise that vulnerability to harm is often the result of factors that actually have little to do with weather events. Land theft, displacement, poverty and the legacies of colonial rule can all multiply climate harms, which means that climate justice is more than simply a matter of sustainable energy development or transitioning to a greener economy.

Behind the familiar Buddhist doctrine that "there is no self" lies a centuries-long tradition of dispute and disagreement. Reductionists believe that the self is no more than a bundle of sense impressions and mental states that add up to nothing of substance or permanence, while emergentists believe that the self is something more - something related to these impressions and mental states, but not reducible to them. We're not going to settle the argument this week, but we will be exploring the ethical ramifications and asking what's at stake.

There are certain things about the world that we think we know for sure, and yet philosophical reason tells us cannot be true. Can you fly? are you real? is the world a hallucination? The answers seem self-evident, but this week we're exploring philosophical thought experiments that pull the rug out from under common sense and intuitive certainty.

Scottish philosopher Adam Smith (1723-1790) is often described as an arch capitalist, the "father of modern economics" - and at a glance it's easy to see why. His Inquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations provided the theoretical foundation for free market capitalism and the economic policies that prevailed throughout the Industrial Revolution. But to see Smith as an extreme free market ideologue is to get him badly wrong.