Philip Ayres: Scholar and Adventurer

I had been meeting Philip Ayres quite regularly for five years as we were both committee members of the Melbourne Conversazioni, but it is the image of him on that dark special night, the 18th of June, 1988, that I still recall with utmost clarity from that period. We were walking along an ill-defined pathway leading up to the cliff-top house belonging to Claudio and Maria-Isabel Veliz at Cinema Point near Lorne. Claudio had founded the Conversazione and had brought us together. He was the catalyst.

It was the winter solstice, the longest night of Australia’s bicentennial year, and the night that a plan that had been envisioned by Claudio and Maria-Isabel to mark that event by linking the nation came to fruition. Called the “Bicentennial Birthday Beacons” it had implemented a chain of bonfires, each visible to another, each bringing a community together, that started at sundown at Botany Bay and then progressed clockwise all the way around the country in one night to return by the following morning to where it had begun.

After the bonfire had been lit and the locals and others gathered there had sung some songs, including “Waltzing Matilda” and “Bound for Botany Bay”, my then young children were feeling the cold and needed to go back to the house. Philip Ayres immediately volunteered to guide us through that steeply inclined forest. He went ahead of us into the darkness holding aloft a glow stick that bathed the surrounding trees and thickets in a luminescent green light.

It was a fitting metaphor for a man who was both courageous and in possession of an insatiable appetite for learning.

Early days

Philip James Ayres was born at Lobethal Hospital on July 28, 1944. The place was no coincidence, as his mother Mabel was the fourth-generation descendant of the German settlers who began arriving in Adelaide in 1838, and the last of her line to retain the German language. Philip’s father, Sergeant-Major James (Jim) Francis Ayres was of English and Scottish descent. He had been a “Rat of Tobruk” in 1941, which had greatly affected him. After firing his anti-tank gun into an advancing Italian tank, Jim felt crushed when he pulled a photograph of the dead soldier’s young family from his wallet.

The Ayres family, including Philip, his younger brothers Bronte and Graham and sister Kathryn lived on a soldier settlement farm near Mount Gambier up to 1960, when they moved to Adelaide. Philip studied at Adelaide Boys’ High and went on to a BA at Adelaide University. During his youth he was influenced by his uncle, Fred Ayres, a grazier who ironically was also state president of the Australia-USSR Friendship Society. Under his influence the teenage Philip and some friends would delight in the knowledge that their visits to the Progress Bookshop in Hindley Street were being filmed by an ASIO crew located on the first floor of the building across the street.

While he would go on to become an anti-Soviet Cold War warrior, those visits instilled a fascination for Russia and the USSR, whose history and politics he would come to know so well. When the USSR fell apart and Russia re-emerged as a sovereign state, Philip admired certain aspects of the country, and after previously listening to Radio Moscow broadcasts continued to follow RT (Russia Today) to his last days. He was fully aware that it contained falsehoods, and sometimes wondered why they would even bother with demonstrable lies (such as the fictional “Carlos the traffic controller” after the downing of MH17) but he always sought and examined alternative viewpoints.  

The family man

Philip met and fell in love with Maruta Sudrabs at the University of Adelaide. She had Latvian ancestry and they were married in 1965, the same year that he completed his Dip.Ed. The following year he commenced as a teacher at the Elizabeth Boys’ Technical School, which was a baptism of fire amongst the energetic offspring of recent British immigrants. One teacher was literally thrown out of a window of the school; soon afterwards Philip secured a tutorship and an office in the comparatively halcyon halls of the English Department at Adelaide University. Just as he completed his PhD in 1971, the couple’s son Julian was born, and the following year Philip commenced as a Senior Lecturer at Monash University. 

The family spent 1976 at Cambridge University, where Philip was on sabbatical, and it became their base for travels throughout the UK, Ireland, France, the Netherlands, Switzerland and Italy. Whilst he was still very young then, Julian recalls much of the detail, from F1 racing at Brands Hatch to scaling the staircase at Notre Dame, to being rushed by his father through tear gas and Caribinieri police as they avoided a demonstration they had stumbled across in Italy. Philip was a devoted father, who made intricate model planes for his son, bought him die-cast tin soldiers of the “Britain” Waterloo range, and read Tintin and Asterix to him at bed-time. 

The visits to F1 racing and Italy were not accidental either. From the classic 1975 Ducati 750 Super Sport motor-bike that he maintained in mint condition, to the 1975 Alfa Romeo Spider sports car and the soft-top Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder that he bought later still, Philip loved Italian style, and even learned the language. On a much later trip to Italy, his by then adult son Julian recalled how his father insisted on subjecting his interlocutor to his peculiarly Australian-accented Italian even though the man was perfectly capable of responding in passable English.

A glimpse into Philip’s life with Maruta is offered in the opening chapter of his autobiographical work Private Encounters in the Public World.[1] Through his uncle they had the opportunity to spend a couple of days in 1967 hosting Aleksandrs Drizulis, Chairman of the Supreme Soviet of the Latvian SSR, with the added convenience that Maruta understood the language. As the daughter of emigres, she expressed concern: “What if we’re photographed by some ASIO employee?” “We don’t give a damn if we are watched and photographed,” Philip responded defiantly. “Matter of fact I hope they do photograph us!”[2] Unfortunately, the marriage did not last. The couple separated in 1978, and later divorced.

The academic and the adventurer

During the 1980s Philip taught his eighteenth-century English literature course under a catchy title, “The Age of Expansion”, which caused another colleague to complain that his course might now be viewed as “The Age of Regression”. In that period Philip was concerned about what he perceived as falling standards in English assessment at matriculation and became an activist in that cause.[3] 

For four years during the early 1980s Philp was married to Patricia Monypenny, about whom he added a vignette in his autobiographical work, describing her offering him her pigskin gloves to wipe the foggy windshield of their car as they approached the Veliz house, “South Main”, for a dinner party one winter’s night.[4]

The Fraser biography

It was the Fraser biography that morphed Philip from an academic into the renowned biographer-adventurer. It was not simply a “butterfly event” but a tectonic plate shift. The job was not “thrust upon him” but rather sought and won. In time that new trajectory would see him honoured with a Centenary Medal for literature, become a Fellow of both the Royal Historical Society and the Australian Academy of the Humanities, and be described by Supreme Court Justice Dyson Heydon as “Australia’s foremost biographer”.

Early in 1986 Philip travelled to Europe, Africa and the US to interview key people for his biography of Malcolm Fraser. At Rancho Mirage in California he interviewed former US President Gerald Ford, who he noted was a leader of the pre-World War Two “America First” movement and had just come off the golf course with Bob Hope.[5] He also visited Michael Manley, the populist democratic socialist Prime Minister of Jamaica from 1972 to 1980 and 1989 to 1992; Kenneth Kaunda, the first president of Zambia from 1964 to 1991; and Robert Mugabe, the revolutionary who became Zimbabwe Prime Minister from 1980 to 1987, and president from 1987 to 2017.[6]

Having arrived in Johannesburg from Zimbabwe on March 8, 1986, Philip was asked by Malcolm Fraser to come along as an observer to an Eminent Persons Group meeting, and told him they were going to “a particularly troubled part of the country”. Of course, Philip would be in it. He then wrote it up for the Age.[7]

Malcolm Fraser: A Biography was launched late in October 1987, brimming with the participation of the glitterati of the day. The foreword was written by former French president Giscard d’Estaing, and the book was launched by Elders IXL boss and Federal Liberal Party President John Elliott, who was still riding high almost two weeks after the October 1987 stock market crash. Philip told reporters that his biography would smash “the Easter Island statue image of Malcolm Fraser to pieces”.[8]

One reviewer offered the alternative title of, “Life wasn’t meant to be this easy”, but that was the very image that Philip’s biography sought to dispel. In the months and years following the release of the book Philip’s name would regularly crop up in the debates about the Dismissal and the Fraser years. It became a reference point for what “Fraser claims”.[9] Philip respected Fraser for “marching to the beat of his own drum”.

Iran and Afghanistan

During 1986, as Philip was about to fly to Paris to interview Valery Giscard d’Estaing for the Fraser biography, he wanted a stop-over along the way that would not be too boring. He got it by writing to the Iranian ambassador to Australia. As he landed in Iran, it was still in the throes of the Islamic Revolution that had toppled the Shah and installed the Ayatollah Khomeini. The country was engaged in a war with Saddam Hussein’s Iraq that would claim a million lives. He wrote that experience up for the Age too,[10] and was beginning to look like its roving foreign correspondent.

Having seen his earlier article on Iran, Senator Richard Alston asked Philip to do something similar with respect to Afghanistan, which he visited late in 1987. Afghanistan was at that time occupied by Soviet troops, and at war. As the wires from the front lines zig-zagged their way home they often crossed, with the Sun-Herald’s gossip column in late December 1987 reporting that the “Memphis Kid’s” (Malcolm Fraser’s) “biographer, Dr Philip Ayres, last week bobbed up in Afghanistan, where he reportedly took part in a rebel Mujahideen attack on a Soviet air base.”[11] That was a bit far-fetched, although it was something that Philip the Cold War Warrior was more than capable of doing. He did, however, observe the Battle of Khost at a distance.[12] 

England

During 1989 Philip worked in the library at Chatsworth House, Derbyshire, where he analysed the eighteenth-century library of Lord Burlington as part of the research he was doing for a book on classicism and culture titled Classical Culture and the Idea of Rome in Eighteenth-Century England.[13] At Chatsworth House he met Deborah Mitford, Duchess of Devonshire, who was one of the famous Mitford sisters of the 1930s. Apparently charmed by Philip, she allowed him to work in the comfort of the actual library rather than in the basement, and put him in touch with her sister.

Diana Mitford, as the wife of Sir Oswald Mosley, “Leader” of the pre-war British Union of Fascists was imprisoned during the war. Philip exchanged a number of letters with her, once referred to as “the most beautiful woman in the world”. He later recalled that she made an interesting observation about von Stauffenberg. Rather than planting a bomb under Hitler’s table in July 1944, which didn’t get the job done, he could have simply “shot Hitler at close range”, but instead of making that sacrifice he “ran away to Berlin hoping to head a new government”. But she disagreed with Philip’s suggestion that success would have shortened the war, as “Russia would have forced” the Allies to go “on to the bitter end”.[14]

From Somalia to the United States

By this time Julian was living with his father in the Melbourne suburb of Glen Iris and did so for about a decade while he studied at university and beyond. It worked well because they were both night owls. In mid-1992, at Una Fraser’s ninetieth-birthday reception at the Alexandria Club, with Philip’s reputation as both writer and adventurer now firmly established, her son Malcolm casually asked “if he was interested” in observing CARE’s work on famine relief in Somalia during October and meeting with General Aidid. But of course he would. Having met the man, who at some point was suddenly flipped from being called “General Aidid” by the US media to “Warlord Aidid”, Philip later pronounced that “the evil character who goes under his name in the film Blackhawk Down is a figment of Hollywood’s imagination”.[15]

Walking around “armed to the teeth” Mogadishu, Philip found “new respect for Peter Kropotkin. He was correct, anarchy can have its own order”, or perhaps “a kind of Hobbesian-Kropotkinism” could succeed if it were based on the threat of death “from the armed citizen, not the state”.[16] Not long after thinking that, Philip was accosted by a fourteen-year-old boy carrying an assault rifle who demanded his camera. While they were arguing, an older youth came out of an adjacent building carrying a pistol, ordered the boy to lower his rifle and told Philip to “clear out” lest he be mistaken for a spy.[17] It had worked. Order had been restored, and Philip still had his camera.

A year later Philip was a visiting professor at Vassar College, up the Hudson River from New York. When he alluded to class consciousness in America, he was “politely contradicted by a student that ‘Ours is a classless society’”. This caused Philip to reel off a list of New England names including “the Winthrops, Adamses, Cabots, Lodges, Quincys and Thayers … so far up the class ladder that they wouldn’t be caught dead in the social pages”. He recounted this incident many years later in his brilliant Quadrant review of Nancy Isenberg’s excellent book White Trash. The 400-Year Untold Story of Class in America.[18] Through experiences such as this and his later (2001) teaching as a Visiting Professor at Boston University, Philip maintained a keen interest in US politics, culture and society to the end.

Sir Douglas Mawson, Cardinal Moran, Sir Owen Dixon and Sir Ninian Stephen

Another massive scholarly and exciting biographical work, Mawson: A Life, was published in 1999 to wide acclaim. More than forty years after Mawson’s death, Philip’s charm had persuaded the explorer’s elderly surviving daughters and grandchildren to entrust him with deeply personal letters that enabled him to describe the man beyond the adventure. His aim, he said, was to “take the reader on the journey with the subject”.[19] His enthusiasm for his subject was apparent when he was interviewed for Film Australia’s 2007 documentary, Mawson: Life and Death in Antarctica, which included Tim Jarvis’s re-enactment of Mawson’s 500-kilometre trek across that frozen continent.[20] One reviewer noted that “Ayres’s great virtue as a biographer is his scrupulous reliance on primary sources, which he has researched meticulously. He can also be funny.”[21]

Two years later Philip was awarded the Centenary Medal for contributions to literature, but he was just getting into stride. In 2003 Owen Dixon, a magisterial and meticulously documented biography of Australia’s greatest jurist was published, eliciting highly favourable reviews in both Australian and British legal circles. The UK’s Law Quarterly Review lauded its “distinguished scholarship and narrative skills”, while an issue of the Australian Law Journal carried fourteen pages of complimentary reviews.[22]

Cardinal George Pell commissioned a biography about the first Australian cardinal, which was published in 2007, Prince of the Church: Patrick Francis Moran. Philip had known Cardinal Pell for some years, and they drew closer in the course of that project, which took Philip to Ireland and England again to undertake research.

Philip’s last major biography, Fortunate Voyager: The Worlds of Ninian Stephen, was about the life the former jurist, international mediator and Governor-General of Australia. It was launched jointly by former prime ministers Malcolm Fraser and Bob Hawke in the magnificent library of the Supreme Court of Victoria.[23] The title reflected how Philip was struck by the luck that befell a young boy who was abandoned by his father at birth, and whose mother had to work as a live-in housekeeper, but who nevertheless managed to accumulate six knighthoods throughout a blistering career.

In his address to the Canberra chapter of the Australian Institute of International Affairs Philip noted how ironic it was that through the young Ninian’s unique and varied education, which had been enabled by his Hitler-infatuated Australian pastoralist heiress and benefactor, Nina Mylne, he “had acquired a knowledge of the complexities of history that were incompatible with political intensity”. For those who did not meet him in life, Dr Ayres’s talk, which is available on YouTube, provides an excellent window into his mannerisms and demeanour, which are very familiar to those who knew him.[24]

In 2019 Philip published his semi-autobiographical Private Encounters in the Public World, which documents many of his experiences and reads like an adventure novel. In his final year he published, as editor, The Washington Diaries of Owen Dixon, 1942–1944.  Reviewing this last work in the January-March 2021 Southern Highlands Newsletter, Justice M.B.J. Lee wrote: “In editing and annotating these wartime diaries Professor Ayres has performed a valuable service.”

Observing Australia and the world from Camperdown

Philip took early retirement from Monash University as a professor in 2006, and in the same year purchased “Gilgai”, a sprawling Federation house in Camperdown which had belonged to one of the Western District town’s two doctors. He restored to its former glory over the next fifteen years, surrounding it with cypress hedges, camellias, roses and rhododendrons. Inside the house was a piano on which he played classical music, and two harpsicords that gave the parlour a feel of the Enlightenment.

There was also a library that included the thirty-six-volume Enciclopedia Italiana (1936). The writings of Marcus Tullius Cicero and the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius could be found lying about. However, Philip also liked to read the adventures of Joseph Conrad, Jonathan Swift and Daniel Defoe, and as a product of his own generation he enjoyed the Beach Boys, the Ronettes, the Crystals, and the works of actors like Steve McQueen, Clint Eastwood and Jack Nicholson. 

Philip became friends with many people in the region, at one stage literally dropping in on various homesteads via a friend’s helicopter. He joined a committee to restore the grandstand at the Camperdown racecourse, and founded the “Western Districts Mountaineers”, who would meet regularly to walk various peaks in the region. He drove into the city regularly to attend luncheons with friends at the Melbourne Club, and monthly to the Athenaeum Club for meetings of a luncheon group called “The Cronies” that has been going since 1948.   

It was during this period that Philip took Justice Antonin Scalia, one of the most famous conservative justices of the US Supreme Court, on a drive along the Great Ocean Road.[25] He had first met Scalia in 2005 when he addressed the Melbourne Conversazione on “Judicial Activism” which also included Scalia’s diametrically opposed colleague Justice Stephen Breyer and a number of eminent Australian jurists.

Among other topics, they discussed the Second Amendment to the US Constitution as they drove down that long winding road. Philip informed his guest how as a teenager he used to take the train to a rifle range near Port Adelaide with his Lee-Enfield .303 propped up between his legs with no one taking any notice. Whilst he did not hunt game, Philip was a keen collector of rifles, shotguns and pistols and had an extensive knowledge of weaponry.

He also had an expensive South American bird called “Dido”, a Brazilian sun conure parakeet, which would sit on his shoulder like something out of a Robert Louis Stevenson novel. Birds were an interest he had acquired from his father Jim, who had a large aviary.

Philip and I agreed on some things and strongly disagreed on others, but it never affected our friendship as we continued our long conversation that was only interrupted by his death. He lived by John Maynard Keynes’s maxim: “When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, sir?”

He was against open immigration to countries that have a long-established history and culture but was not opposed to immigration to “settler societies” like Australia and the US. However, in the latter case he was still concerned about the pace and process of such immigration.  

As an adherent of populist nationalism, Philip supported the Trump candidacy and believed there was a “Russia hoax” driven by the Democrats. “The old Republican party is dead,” he would say, “and America cannot go back in time.” He liked Donald Trump for his rejection of political correctness, woke and cancel culture. However, as time progressed, he also referred to Donald Trump as a “clown” who was implementing a “childish foreign policy”, singling out particular failures on Israel/Palestine, Iran and Brexit. He also disagreed with the Trump administration’s tax cuts for the rich, its management of the COVID-19 response, and the creation of a “Space Force” (for which he reserved his customary laugh).

After observing the Biden administration for some months, Philip considered Biden to be “okay” as he had maintained tariffs on China, did not rock the boat with Russia, and mended relations with Germany (lifting sanctions on Nordstream-2). He also approved of Biden’s infrastructure plan and would have approved of the withdrawal from Afghanistan, although not with the incompetent way it was managed.

Whilst he supported Brexit in 2016, by 2021 Philip recognised that it was “not going too well”, and considered that Australia did not look as if it would benefit in any material way since the “imperial preference” of old was being swamped by hard-nosed cost-benefit analysis. He continued to be concerned about the dangers of ideological bias in the education system, with unrepresentative bureaucrats attempting to mould students in their own image. It was unfortunate, he thought, that most people cannot afford private schools for their children, so vouchers are the only solution.

In Philip’s view, Russia had breached the terms of the Budapest Memorandum by invading Ukraine’s Crimean Peninsula, and by occupying a portion of the east of the country. In 1994 Ukraine had given up its nuclear arsenal in return for sovereignty and territorial security guarantees from Russia, the US and UK, and this was setting a bad precedent. However, he saw China as the bigger threat to Australia, calling it a fascist state that could best be described as “national-socialist”, while he termed Russia a semi-fascist state.

Philip’s final interaction with me was a hearty laugh when I informed him that a Belarusian television anchor had threatened Lithuania (a NATO member) with invasion.

The great mystery

Two months before Philip died my wife and I had driven out to Camperdown to visit him and have lunch. With some excitement he showed us progress on the new jarrah decking that was being installed at “Gilgai”, but we were concerned that he looked frail, and his condition was also noticed by friends in the “Western Mountaineers” during their last meeting at Lorne. When I asked Philip if he would consider completing a half-finished biography of Sir Nevill Smyth, who had earned a VC at the Battle of Omdurman in 1898, and who in command of the 1st Brigade AIF had taken and defended Lone Pine at Gallipoli and had led the 2nd Division AIF at the Western Front, he told me, “I can’t. I’m too weak.”

Around that time, Philip and I exchanged an article about a six-foot-tall 4800-year-old Persian priestess whose skeleton had been found still wearing what remained of her gold-leaf-encrusted prosthetic eye. “I wish we’d met,” he said. “Or maybe it’s better not to know the future. She knows it all now.”

He was right. Had he known what was coming in just a month he would not have been so excited about that new decking. Philip was deeply religious, though without regular church attendance. Baptised as a Lutheran and confirmed as a Presbyterian, he had then gravitated through Catholicism in his thirties to the Church of England later in life. Now, upon entering “the unknowable great mystery” that he sometimes spoke of, perhaps he has met the Persian high priestess and is locked in deep conversation about the last 4800 years of human history. If he has, it’s London to a brick that he has charmed her with that infectious smile and the laugh that all who knew him would instantly recognise.

Philip Ayres is sadly missed by a multitude of friends and acquaintances in Australia and around the world for his spirited wit and his wisdom. His family and his grandchildren, as well as his siblings and their families, will miss him for his warmth, generosity and intellectual curiosity. He lived life at full throttle and went so suddenly that it has left a gaping wound in many people’s lives.

He was the quintessential gentleman who served Australia well and has bequeathed an enduring legacy.

Michael Lawriwsky is the author of Hard Jacka and Return of the Gallipoli Legend.

[1] Philip Ayres, (2019), Private Encounters in the Public World, Connor Court Publishing, Chapter 1, “Hosting the Soviet Enemy,” pp.11-24.

[2] Philip Ayres, (2019), p.17.

[3] P. Ayres, (14 July, 1983), “Unsatisfactory assessment”, The Age, Letters to the Editor, p.12.

[4] Philip Ayres, (2019), Chapter 5, “The Friendships of Claudio Veliz”, pp.76-79

[5] Philip Ayres, (2019), Chapter 2, “Gerald Ford at Rancho Mirage”, pp.25-38.

[6] Philip Ayres, (2019), Chapter 3, “Manley, Kaunda, Mugabe”, pp.39-58.

[7] Philip Ayres, (21 June 1986), “Malcolm Fraser’s day of confrontation,” The Age, p.6.

[8]  Tony Stephens, (30 October, 1987) “Yesterday’s king and tough new prince share the Liberal Party’s Royal Box,” Sydney Morning Herald, p.3.

[9] See Michelle Grattan, (28 November, 1987), “Cameron offers a tantalising clue to the dismissal jigsaw,” The Age, p.10; Ross McMullin (30 January, 1993), “The great tip-off mystery,” The Age, Extra p.6; Stephen Mills, (4 November, 1995), “Gough’s gaffes”, The Sydney Morning Herald, p.28; Gerard Henderson, (4 November, 1995), “Why Kerr never forgave Fraser,” The Sydney Morning Herald, News Review Extra, p.29.

[10] Philip Ayres, (13 December, 1986), “Children of the Imam,” The Age, Saturday Extra, p.6.

[11] Alex Mitchell (20 December, 1987) “Salute to Brigadier” in “Off Broadway”, The Sun-Herald, p.144.

[12] Philip Ayres, (9 January, 1988), “Khost: the crucial siege,” The Age, Saturday Extra, pp.1,6.

[13] Philip Ayres, (1997), Classical Culture and the Idea of Rome in Eighteenth Century England, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. The work on Burlington’s library was later published in PJ Ayres, (1992), “Burlington’s Library at Chiswick,” Studies in Bibliography, Vol.45, pp113-127.

[14] Philip Ayres, (2019), Chapter 6, “Things Diana Mosley Told Me,” pp.120-121.

[15] Philip Ayres, (2019), Chapter 9, “The Road to General Aidid”, p.157.

[16] Philip was also a student of existentialism, having in May, 1996, addressed the Existentialist Society on the topic of “The Existentialist in History”. See The Age, (3 May, 1996), “Hear This”, p.50.

[17] Philip Ayres, (2019), p.160.

[18] Philip Ayres, (6 November, 2018), “America’s Poor White Trash”, Quadrant Magazine.

[19] Paul Heinrichs, (9 August, 1999), “Knight in woollen armour,” The Age, Features, p.13. 

[20]  Film Australia, (2007), Mawson: Life and Death in Antarctica, A Film Australia Making History Production in association wit Orana Films. Produced with the assistance of The Australian Broadcasting Corporation and Channel 4.

[21] Rod Beecham, (June/July, 2004), Australian Book Review, p.35.

[22] See (2003) Australian Law Journal, (High Court Centenary Number), pp.682-696; and Tom Bringham, (2005), “Review of Owen Dixon,” Law Quarterly Review, pp.154-158.

[23] Philip Ayres, (2013), Fortunate Voyager: The Worlds of Ninian Stephen, The Mieguyah Press.

[24] See “The Unknown Ninian Stephen – Dr Philip Ayres – YouTube”, https://www.google.com.au/search?q=youtube+aiia+philip+ayres+camberra+stephens&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-au&client=safari

[25] Philip Ayres (2019), Chapter 4, “On the Road with Antonin Scalia”, pp.59-73.