write about 8 points to support the online debate 1. Each point should be 100 words.

Instructions are in “brief”.

Assignment Hand out
Week 2

Learning Outcomes
The debates will cover themes within these broad learning outcomes:
1.    To critically examine  the changing  supply and demand  for events, hospitality and tourism  products within the dynamic global tourism  environment
2.    To critically understand the influence of destinations and government policy and  to develop sustainable and competitive strategies for relevant events,

hospitality and tourism businesses
3.    To critically examine the implementation of strategies  relating to the tourism futures agenda which  minimise risk and respond to crisis,
4.    To critically analyse sustainable tourism policies and their effects on  events, hospitality and  tourism businesses

Assignment Remit
The students will be split into small groups and will be allocated a motion to debate.  Additional information and guidance on how to participate in this debate will

be provided on UCB Online prior to the launch of the debate.  A member of the E-Learning team will provide students with the technical information during one of the


Assessment Criteria
The Level 7 Generic Grade Criteria provide you with a guide to what is expected of you at this level of study.  All features of the Level 7 Generic Grade Criteria are

relevant to these debates, with particular reference to the use of non-theoretical and theoretical arguments, supporting evidence, the ability to effectively

articulate your points and present counter-arguments.

In addition you are asked to note the following advice:
1. Please ensure that your points are kept as succinct as possible – maximum word count per posting is 100 words
2.  Maximum number of postings is 10 (therefore, think carefully before you post your arguments) – it is advised that you spread your postings throughout the debate

period to ensure that you are a key contributor to the whole debate.
3. You must write the full details of all references used at the end of each posting following UCB’s guidelines (reference lists are NOT included in the word count).
4. Use of direct quotations should be avoided unless they are absolutely essential (quotations will be included within the word count)
5. Credit will be given for the quality of your arguments, counter-arguments and evidence used to support your points
6. Your final contribution should be posted at the END of the debate, summing up your overall position on the motion, based on all the arguments/counter-arguments

presented (this posting is INCLUDED within your 10 postings)

Points to consider during the preparation stage

–    Effective research is an essential pre-condition to successful debating
–    Avoid over-reliance on a few key sources
–    Consider both the theoretical and non-theoretical aspects to your topic.
–    Identify the key strands to your arguments with supporting evidence.

On Line Debate 1
We are working harder than ever and it’s killing us. We need more chill time
Long hours make us ill and ineffective. With greater space and flexibility, people could be more creative
Gaby Hinsliff: The Guardian, Thursday 27 November 2014
Sleep is overrated, according to Harriet Green, the departing chief executive of Thomas Cook, who famously survives on under four hours a night. The businesswoman is

in the gym at 5.30am and at her desk shortly after 7; she spends the working week living in a hotel (instead of returning home to her husband and stepchildren) so she

can fit more in. Somewhat ironically, Green can’t stay on the sun lounger for more than a few minutes on holiday without wanting to leap up and do something.
The results she achieves on this workaholic regime are little short of miraculous – the travel firm’s share price plummeted when she unexpectedly announced this week

that she was quitting – so it’s odd that she is leaving abruptly after only two years. Could it be that corporate Britain is no longer quite as comfortable with the

lunch-is-for-wimps culture as it was?
One in 10 Britons would like to work fewer hours (and take a pay cut to do so), according to a new Office for National Statistics survey – roughly the same as would

like to do more but can’t find a full-time job. Working hours in Britain have actually risen slightly overall since the crash, despite the boom in low-paid part-time

work, as full-timers spend longer at their desks – either from fear or necessity, as vacancies go unfilled and those left are expected to pick up the slack.
Even the French are now debating whether to ditch their cherished 35-hour working week, because in practice too few people are sticking to it. The world is polarising

between those with more work than they want and those with not enough.
Of the two, being overworked obviously looks the better gig, since at least you’re statistically more likely to be well-paid and doing interesting, stimulating things.

(But one feels for Green’s hairdresser, who apparently reaches her house before 7am to do her daily blowdry.)
But long hours are associated with a greater risk of heart disease, stroke and even diabetes; and the evidence suggests that if anything, lack of sleep is underrated,

linked as it has been to everything from obesity to premature mortality. Pilots crash, surgeons slip, and politicians lose perspective when they’re tired, while

staying up all night to finish the job leads as often to knackered incoherence as it does to success.
All of which means that while the rise of low-paid underemployment is obviously alarming, overwork is more than just some self-indulgent rich man’s problem, on a par

with discovering that your new Rolls-Royce doesn’t fit in the garage.
What’s striking is that the group most anxious to work less were over 50, and that so many of them clustered in predominantly male-dominated professions: chief

executives, senior police and army officers. This isn’t just about mothers longing to spend more time with small children but about burnt-out men trapped in careers

where “part-time” sounds like a professional death wish, or in circumstances that don’t allow for a pay cut. In surveys it’s men, not women, who now express greatest

dissatisfaction with their work-life balance. The good news for the overworked, dreaming forlornly of doing 11 fewer hours a week on average, is that even when a

four-day week isn’t feasible, we could be far more imaginative about the fifth.

Friday is the easiest morning to find a seat on my local commuter train for a reason: working from home is growing in popularity, and the best day for it is just

before the weekend. If that means people starting early, long before they’d normally reach their desks, and finishing early – well, so what? Better than sitting around

in the notorious dead zone that is most offices after 3pm on a Friday, convincing yourself that it’s too late now to finish this before the weekend and, oh well, it

could wait until Monday; better than furtively Facebooking while pretending to work, while everyone slopes off to the pub (“leaving early to beat the traffic”).
So endemic is the Friday afternoon skive that some companies now cut their losses by sending staff home early in the slack days of summer. The fashion retailer Asos

has “doss Fridays”, on which staff can leave at 3pm, as do several major publishing companies: Kellogg’s has for years given Friday afternoons off as a perk after

finding that cutting out the dead time actually boosted productivity overall.
Working longer, in other words, only guarantees achieving more if you’re confident that every minute is well spent. This week, on the way back from a work event (at

around 10pm) I listened on the car radio to a fascinating interview with the concert pianist Janina Fialkowska, explaining how cancer surgery on her arm had left her

unable to manage her normal six to seven hours’ practice a day. Yet surprisingly, music critics thought her playing had, if anything, improved. She reckons she gets

more now from three hours of highly concentrated, focused practice than from her previous marathon sessions.
Not everyone, of course, has the flexibility of a concert pianist. But there are other ways to capitalise on the Friday feeling than simply slacking off. Google’s “20%

time” project, where selected engineers get the equivalent of a day a week to play around with their own ideas on the company’s time, may sound like one of those

pointlessly adolescent things tech companies do, like installing a slide at headquarters that nobody with a modicum of self-respect actually uses. But the scheme has

so far given birth to Gmail, Google Chrome and now Google Cardboard, its new virtual reality device.
It doesn’t matter if nine in 10 of the projects turn out to be dead ends if the 10th is the game changer that would never have happened otherwise. The company is well

aware that people are likely to work harder on a pet project they enjoy than on one dumped on them from on high, and that creativity requires occasional freedom from

the treadmill.
Indeed, given the need for imaginative solutions to rising demand and shrinking budgets in public services, one wonders whether carving out a few hours a week for NHS

consultants or chief constables to clear the diary and actually think might not pay dividends too. Free our Fridays, in other words, and you might be pleasantly

surprised at what’s achieved by Thursday night. Happy weekend.

Should people in richer economies be prepared to work longer hours and take less holidays to retain their jobs?

On Line Debate 2
Rich Gulf Arabs using Tanzania as a playground? Someone opened the gate
The hunters may not care about sacrificing Masai rights – but Tanzania’s government should

Nesrine Malik     The, Monday 17 November 2014 18.01 GMT
Sometimes in Khartoum, you see long convoys of blacked-out 4x4s, full of game hunters from the Gulf, drive through the centre of the city and disappear into the

countryside, returning only to snake their way back to the airport. You’ll never catch their passengers in town, socialising or hanging out.
You only hear stories of Saudi hunters camped out in the wilderness, having brought the entire infrastructure and staff of the hunt with them, including cooks, food,

beaters and handlers. They shoot desert species of gazelle, oryx and Nubian ibex, and take them home as trophies. There are reports that sometimes they don’t even

bother to fly through Khartoum airport, choosing instead to construct makeshift landing strips in the middle of the wilderness that are dismantled after they depart,

sometimes apparently in massive military C-130 planes. Quietly, under the radar, they get their game, and someone gets paid.
How these expeditions are set up, who arranges them and exactly who gets paid is a mystery – but it couldn’t happen without Sudanese government involvement.
While some of the more outlandish stories of playground hunting might be apocryphal, the latest reports from Tanzania are not. In one of the most dramatic cases of

large-scale hunting in Africa by Gulf tourists, the Tanzanian government has reneged on a promise not to dedicate 1,500 sq km of Masai land to a Dubai company that

arranges hunting trips for members of the Dubai royal family. The government offered the Masai the paltry sum of £370,000 to relocate – money they have no intention of

taking. As a result of the ensuing media attention, Gulf hunting culture in Africa has been exposed in its starkest, ugliest form. Arabs in their Ray Bans with their

new money and shotguns on the one side, and the exploited Masai on the other.
It would be easy to dismiss this as an example of the filthy rich doing what they do best – trampling over the rights of others in order to have a good time. It’s a

little bit more complicated than that, however. None of these expeditions would happen without government sanction and, indeed, encouragement. It’s easy money for

cash-strapped African treasuries. And if the hunters seem to have no respect for the traditions of those whose property and way of life they know will be sacrificed,

that is only because of the eagerness of Tanzanian politicians to strike a deal; for them, the relocation of a few people (40,000, in this case) is deemed a price

worth paying.
There is without doubt a “cheque-cutting” relationship between some African countries, specifically those in the east and north of the continent and in the Gulf, where

random amounts of money are handed over in dodgy transactions that are neither aid nor debt. And the deals made are usually at the expense of the citizens these

governments are supposed to represent.
When Osama bin Laden – incidentally also fond of hunting in Sudan – sought refuge in Khartoum, it was mistakenly seen as an indication of the Sudanese government’s

sympathy with his ideology. In fact, his money was the main attraction. At one point it was reported that bin Laden was the single largest landowner in the country.

When he was forced out, the land reverted to the government and he was never compensated. There is a view – and perhaps this acts as an incentive, who knows? – that

those from the Gulf who choose to do business in Africa are, shall we say, easily parted from their money.
As far as local intermediaries are concerned, these hunters are simply the latest bunch of rich eccentrics, coming to or travelling through Africa either to hunt like

the white explorers and colonialists, or go on safaris like honeymooners.
In countries with few other resources, the land’s natural gifts are one means of earning money. And the Arabian peninsula has a long history of trade with east Africa,

just across the Red Sea. The Arabic language as well as Islam travelled with traders to and from the region. Even the word Swahili is derived from the Arabic for

coastal. This relationship has always had an exploitive edge, particularly when slaves and material resources have been concerned. There is arguably still a certain

sense of entitlement among the Gulf Arabs, not unrelated to racial disdain. But in this case it is as much the greed of the Tanzanian government that perpetuates the

anguish of the Masai as it is the desire of Arabs to make a playground out of Africa.
Should this kind of tourism be allowed in the interests of encouraging  “easy money for cash strapped African Treasuries”

On Line Debate 3

Inside China’s Dwarf Empire
In the mountains of southern China, there is an amusement park where 100 little people sing and dance for gawping tourists twice a day. Photographer Sanne De Wilde

talks about what happened when she went behind the scenes at this extraordinary fantasy world
• Sean O’Hagan
The Guardian, Tuesday 2 September 2014 18.39 BST

The Dwarf Empire – or, to give it its full name, The World Eco Garden of Butterflies and the Dwarf Empire – is situated in the mountains of southern China near the new

city of Kunming. Created in 2009, it is a tourist attraction boasting two daily performances by 100 dwarves, who live and work in an elaborate fantasy world ruled by

an emperor and empress. To western eyes, it looks like a remnant of the Victorian freak show.
“In 2011, I accidentally found an image online of Chinese tourists posing with little people,” says Sanne De Wilde, a young Belgian-born, Amsterdam-based photographer.

“It was a bit shocking, but it made me curious.” Shortly afterwards, having spent several weeks liaising with the owners, De Wilde travelled to China to visit the

Dwarf Empire. “Nothing quite prepared me for the unreality of the place,” she says. “In the brochures, it looks colourful and a little fantastic, like a modern theme

park, but the reality is much greyer and a little sad. People pay to come here, to see a song-and-dance performance, and to have their pictures taken with the little

people. To westerners, it may seem voyeuristic and immoral, but this is China and – for the people who come here with their children, and for many of the performers –

this is simply not an issue.”
De Wilde knew immediately that she had found an amazing subject, but one that was loaded with all kinds of issues, from complex problems of representation to

accusations of voyeurism. “Essentially, I did not want, as a photographer, to become part of the problem I was trying to highlight. I wanted to go deeper, into the

contradictions and paradoxes of the place, the creation of a fantasy that was paper thin and yet one that visitors bought into.”
‘To westerners, it may seem voyeuristic and immoral, but this is China and – for the people who come here and for many of the performers – this is simply not an

issue,’ says De Wilde Photograph: Sanne De Wilde
Four years in the making, the end result, a photobook called The Dwarf Empire that she plans to publish soon, deftly negotiates these issues, while allowing the viewer

to witness the often dull and mundane world behind the fantasy. “I had no interest in photographing the actual performances,” she says. “Instead, I was interested in

how the performers lived in between the two daily shows, in this enclosed world behind the fake wooden walls and ornate facades. To do that, I needed to get to know

the people I was photographing.”
Initially, De Wilde hired a translator, but there was a problem. “I realised she simply wasn’t asking the questions I was giving her. She kept saying, ‘No, we don’t

need to go there.’ For her, it was all about maintaining the facade. Then I had to think about the images in a very practical way. For instance, I didn’t want a series

where people were looking upwards all the time at the camera, or where everything – furniture, beds, rooms – looked miniature. So I started shooting while crouched

down. Practically as well as conceptually, it was an incredibly difficult project mainly because I was questioning myself all the time.”
The most difficult part of all, though, was her own interaction with the tourists, many of whom treated her as another novelty within the theme park. “It was as if I

was becoming this tall, white, blond-haired Snow White figure that they also wanted to photograph constantly. People would grab me and push me into a picture, force me

into a frame. At one point, I couldn’t breathe so I ran around the back, behind the facade, and hid with some people I had become friendly with.”
For many residents, says De Wilde, the Dwarf Empire provided ‘not just a community, but a sense of belonging’. Photograph: Sanne De Wilde
De Wilde also decided to include photographs taken by her subjects, “to give them a space to articulate what they felt and what their everyday lives were like”. Many

took photographs of her; others recorded their daily routine, much of which consists of waiting, bored and listless, between shows. Nevertheless, when De Wilde

interviewed several of her subjects, including a couple who had left the Dwarf Empire, they regarded it as “a wonderful place and even a kind of paradise”. For them,

she says, it provided “not just a community, but a sense of belonging”. When she asked people if they were happy, they tended not to understand the question. “In the

west, we obsess about happiness, but for them, as for most people in China, happiness does not come into it – it’s about survival.”
De Wilde’s book will be divided into three main sections: her photographs of the little people, their photographs of her, and two foldout posters featuring individual

portraits of the performers alongside biographical information – names, dates, places of birth, heights. “Their height is the thing that most informs their lives,” she

says, “so it seemed incredibly important to include it.” Likewise, she has included what she calls “anti-postcards” (her images of “the daily reality of life in the

park”), as well as an insert of images created by her subjects in response to the question: how would you ideally like to be seen? “One woman Photoshopped herself into

a frame held up by two western women,” says De Wilde. “It’s a complex image on so many levels.”
How does she feel about the Dwarf Empire now? “It’s complicated and contradictory. For instance, I included a photograph in which two security guards hold up one of

the smallest women in the palm of their hands. It’s an image that newspapers and magazines tend to want to print, and it is perhaps the most dramatic, but it is not

the most representative. The Dwarf Empire is a commercial business that is not very respectful to the people it puts on show. But, by Chinese standards, they are paid

and treated well. It is voyeuristic, but so is reality TV and a lot of the internet. These are the areas I am interested in – how we look at otherness and what that

says about us.”
Is this attraction an example of immoral and unacceptable tourism?


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