Australia is a country that seemingly has everything.
One of the wealthiest countries in the world, we have peace, democratic stability, fresh air, clean water, abundant resources, and international influence. But for a country so privileged we also have some surprisingly big problems.
Australia is facing an equality crisis. Children are living in poverty. Women are being murdered by their partners. People living in residential care are malnourished. Indigenous incarceration and child removals are increasing. Australian governments are failing to uphold civil liberties and political freedoms.
And, of course, all this inequality is set against and exacerbated by the rapidly worsening climate and biodiversity crises caused by our collective determination to subsidise fossil fuel expansion and ravage our natural environment.
The problem is not money. The share of Australians’ combined incomes going to corporate profits is well up, as are CEO salaries and fossil fuel subsidies. Our government just sacrificed $200 billion on tax cuts, and it is going to spend almost $400 billion on nuclear submarines we may or may not get.
This continent and its culture are ancient, but the colony of Australia is young. There is no need to trace back through millennia of successive empires to understand how we got here. None of our leaders has been forced into faustian pacts to save their citizens from starvation or tyranny. While the solutions to some of our problems are complex, it’s not hard to see where to start, and what things need to stop. Our governments knew how to end whaling and asbestos mining, and they know today how to fix the big problems hitting Australians.
Despite our growing, collective abundance, Australia is facing a notable deficit in one thing: the courage to confront and fix these problems.
As our nation’s prosperity has increased, complacency and caution has taken the place of boldness and bravery. With the rapid intensification of neoliberalism over the last 30 years, our leaders have sold us the myth that “doing the right thing” means taking care of number one, and providing for others means there will be less for us.
Increasingly, what follows a big policy announcement in Australia is not a big, structural solution but a series of incremental “announceables”. Instead of systemic reform, a tired array of political tactics and interminable bureaucratic processes are typically dragged out: commissions, committees, strategies, reviews, consultations, economic modelling and endless cost-benefit analyses. When implemented in good faith, these processes should justify and facilitate policy changes, but in the current context they serve to delay or water down ambition. The result is the continued status quo of increasing inequality, injustices and environmental decline as millions stand by and watch.
The failure of successive leaders to communicate the gravity of the climate crisis and to do the most basic things climate scientists say are needed to sustain life as we know it — stop opening new gas and coal mines, stop clearing forests, and rapidly restore our ecosystems — is an abject and unforgivable demonstration of this performative inaction. Australian governments, senior public servants and industry leaders have known for decades what causes climate change and
what its impacts will be. Yet ecosystem collapse is consistently treated as an economic inconvenience, rather than a moral imperative.
Much is made of the powerful grip industry and media oligarchs have on Australia’s democracy. There is no doubt that the pursuit of profit and self-interest by a select few continues to have a disproportionate influence over our policymaking. But is it the identity or alleged “power” of these influential individuals that is important, or the failure of our leaders and public agencies and institutions to stand up to them?
We are all guilty of taking the path of least resistance or acting out of self-interest sometimes. We have all stood by when we could have done more because we wanted to avoid conflict or didn’t want to lose social acceptance, financial stability or access to power. We’ve told ourselves we can make “change from inside” or convinced ourselves we are too small to make a difference.
Recent commissions into the Robodebt scheme, institutional child sexual abuse, government use of consultancies, to name just a few, have made acutely clear what the consequences of collective silence and inaction can be.
To quote Eleanor Roosevelt, “We do not have to become heroes overnight. Just one step at a time, meeting each thing that comes up, seeing it is not as dreadful as it appeared, discovering we have the strength to stare it down.”