The politics of outrage is no longer just a style of campaigning – it has become one of the dominant business models within modern media and democracy. As podcasts, social media and creator platforms replace traditional gatekeepers, the algorithms increasingly reward anger, conflict and cultural warfare over the evidence and public interest. The result is a political environment where outrage is monetised, division is amplified and complex public policy is reduced to a simple battle between heroes and villains.

In this episode, we examine how journalism, political communication and digital media are undergoing one of the biggest transformations in modern history. The shift is no longer just from newspapers and television to podcasts and online platforms: it’s a shift in who decides what millions of people get to see every day. Editors and journalists have increasingly been replaced by recommendation algorithms designed to maximise engagement, rewarding the most inflammatory content regardless of whether it informs the public or just provokes it.

Karl Stefanovic has moved from mainstream television into political podcasting, and it represents a much broader trend rather than an isolated career change. As high-profile media personalities embrace the creator economy, the commercial incentives increasingly favour controversy over scrutiny, personality over journalism, and spectacle over analysis.

The conversation explores how outrage politics has influenced democratic debate across Australia, the United States, the United Kingdom and beyond. From Donald Trump, Boris Johnson and Jair Bolsonaro to Australia’s own culture-war politics, conflict has increasingly replaced governing as the central performance of political leadership. The challenge is that anger can be a powerful force for exposing injustice, but when outrage becomes permanent it ceases to solve problems and instead becomes an industry sustained by clicks, advertising revenue and endless political grievance.

We also examine the growing influence of wealthy political donors, advocacy organisations and billionaire-backed campaigns that increasingly shape public opinion long before Australians ever cast a vote. Political influence is no longer confined to political parties or traditional media organisations. Financial power now operates through podcasts, digital platforms, lobbying groups and sophisticated online campaigns capable of dominating public conversation without ever standing for election.

Australian politics has entered a winter of discontent, and nowhere is the chill being felt more sharply than inside the Liberal Party. Angus Taylor leads an opposition with 42 seats in the House of Representatives, yet the party often appears to be chasing One Nation’s agenda rather than setting its own. The result is a strange political reversal: the official opposition looks spooked by a party with only two lower-house seats, while Labor governs from a position of overwhelming parliamentary strength.

In this episode, we examine the Liberal Party’s identity crisis, its talk of rebranding, and why changing a name or logo cannot fix decades of political decline. From the loss of inner-city moderates to the teal independents, younger voters drifting towards Labor and the Greens, and regional conservatives flirting with One Nation, the Liberal Party faces a deeper problem than leadership instability. It no longer seems able to explain who it represents, what it stands for, or what kind of Australia it wants to build.

We revisit Robert Menzies and the “forgotten people”, not as a nostalgia, but as a reminder that successful political movements need purpose, narrative and moral authority. Taylor has yet to offer any equivalent vision for modern Australia: instead, the Liberal Party appears to be caught between multicultural reality and monocultural anxiety, between economic conservatism and right-wing populism, between rebuilding trust and pandering to fear.

But this is also a wider story about Australian democracy. Labor’s caution, the Greens’ in difficulty gaining traction, One Nation’s politics of resentment, and the hollowing out of public institutions all point to a political system struggling to renew itself. Australia does not just need better branding: it needs better politics.

Keir Starmer’s resignation as British Prime Minister after just 18 months in office is more than another chapter in the United Kingdom’s revolving-door leadership. It raises a much bigger question for centre-left governments across the democratic world: why do parties elected on promises of transformational change so often end up governing as cautious managers of the status quo?

We examine the striking parallels between Labour in Britain and Labor in Australia. Both parties inherited government after long periods of conservative rule, both secured commanding parliamentary majorities despite relatively modest primary vote support, and both promised to tackle deep economic and social problems. Yet once in office, the politics of reform quickly gave way to the politics of caution.

Rather than confronting entrenched concentrations of wealth and power, governments increasingly rely on reviews, inquiries, consultations and incremental policy adjustments. Major reforms are softened, delayed or abandoned altogether, leaving many voters with the impression that elections change governments but rarely change the direction of the country.

The consequences are now becoming clear. As Labour’s support collapsed in Britain, Reform UK filled the political vacuum. In Australia, One Nation is experiencing a similar surge in opinion polling. These developments are often dismissed as populism, misinformation or protest voting, but those explanations overlook a more fundamental issue: when mainstream parties fail to deliver meaningful change, frustrated voters inevitably begin searching elsewhere.

We also explore how political accountability has fundamentally changed. Governments are no longer judged primarily against the failures of their predecessors but against the promises they made before taking office. Starmer campaigned on renewal but was quickly associated with austerity measures, while Anthony Albanese increasingly faces criticism that Labor has retreated from many of its reform ambitions, from the National Anti-Corruption Commission to broader structural economic change. In today’s political environment, broken expectations carry far greater political costs than unmet historical comparisons.

Starmer’s downfall is a reminder that overwhelming parliamentary majorities can evaporate quickly when governments are seen as managing problems rather than solving them.

The lesson extends well beyond Britain. Modern electorates are becoming less patient, more demanding and increasingly unwilling to reward cautious incrementalism. If governments elected to deliver change instead preserve the existing political and economic settlement, they may discover that the greatest beneficiaries are not their opponents in parliament, but the insurgent movements waiting outside it.

For years, the public was told that conflict with Iran was unavoidable. Successive governments in the US and Israel have argued that diplomacy had failed, sanctions had reached their limits, and military action was the only remaining option. When the US and Israel launched their attacks on Iran in February, the consequences arrived quickly: oil prices surged, shipping through the Strait of Hormuz was disrupted, inflationary pressures intensified, and global markets braced for a wider regional war.

Four months later, the United States and Iran have signed a memorandum of understanding, with a broader ceasefire agreement expected to follow. Yet the central question remains: what exactly was achieved?

Despite repeated claims that Iran represented an existential threat requiring military intervention, the Iranian state remains intact. The government survived the conflict, sanctions are being eased, frozen assets are being released, and Iranian oil exports are set to expand. The outcome appears remarkably similar to what could have been achieved through diplomacy from the outset, raising serious questions about the strategic rationale behind a war that imposed enormous economic and human costs while producing few tangible political gains.

The political implications are equally significant. Donald Trump abandoned the international nuclear agreement with Iran, arguing that it was too favourable to Tehran. Nearly a decade later, Iran is on the verge of securing a more advantageous settlement than the one Washington rejected. At the same time, Israel’s strategy of pushing for confrontation has drawn greater international scrutiny of its broader regional conduct, including its genocidal actions in Gaza and Lebanon, while increasing public scepticism toward Western support for Israeli policy.

As governments debate regional security, nuclear negotiations and future sanctions arrangements, ordinary people have experienced the consequences through higher fuel prices, increased living costs and prolonged economic uncertainty. Meanwhile, defence contractors, commodity traders and financial speculators have emerged among the few clear beneficiaries of the conflict.

We explore the strategic failures of the United States and Israel, the changing balance of power in the Middle East, the role of diplomacy in ending the conflict, and why so many observers are now asking whether this war achieved anything at all.

But Hanson’s speech also highlighted a broader issue in Australian politics. As economic pressures, housing affordability and declining trust in institutions continue to frustrate voters, simplistic slogans and culture-war politics are finding a larger audience. The challenge is that while these messages identify targets for public anger, they rarely offer solutions to the complex problems Australians face.

The rise of One Nation reflects both the decline of the Liberal Party and growing dissatisfaction with mainstream politics. Yet recent elections have shown there are limits to fear-based campaigns that paint Australia as a nation in decline. Voters may be frustrated, but many remain unconvinced by narratives built on division and nostalgia.

We examine Hanson’s National Press Club appearance, the media’s role in normalising fringe politics, the contradictions within One Nation’s economic agenda, and why bad ideas should be challenged rather than ignored. As populist movements continue to gain attention around the world, the question is whether grievance politics can offer anything beyond anger, scapegoating and a vision of Australia looking backwards rather than forwards.

For much of modern Australian political history, federal politics has been defined by a stable contest between Labor and the Coalition. While minor parties have sometimes disrupted the landscape, they have rarely threatened the dominance of the major parties in any sustained way. That is why recent opinion polls showing One Nation leading the primary vote in surveys conducted by Newspoll, YouGov, Roy Morgan and RedBridge have attracted so much attention. Polls conducted two years before an election are snapshots rather than predictions, and Australian voters have repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to change their minds when campaigns begin in earnest. But the broader significance of these results is what they reveal about growing dissatisfaction with Australia’s political system.

The rise of One Nation might be less a reflection of widespread enthusiasm for Pauline Hanson and more a manifestation of frustration with the political establishment. Across Australia, voters are confronting persistent cost-of-living pressures, housing affordability problems, stagnant living standards and declining trust in institutions. For many, support for One Nation functions as a protest against the major parties rather than an endorsement of a coherent ideological project. The party has become a vehicle for political dissent, attracting voters who believe Labor and the Coalition are increasingly disconnected from their concerns.

The more realistic scenario is that a stronger One Nation could exert influence through the balance of power or by supporting a conservative government from outside cabinet. That possibility raises important questions about the future direction of Australian politics. Is One Nation genuinely creating a new political movement, or is it simply providing another outlet for voters frustrated with the existing system? More importantly, can a party built around protest sustain support once it is required to offer practical solutions rather than simply criticism?

The current polling may ultimately prove to be One Nation’s high-water mark, or it may signal the beginning of a longer realignment in Australian politics. At this stage, nobody can be sure. Whether that sentiment strengthens One Nation, produces new political movements, or forces Labor and the Coalition to adapt is set to become one of the defining questions of Australian politics over the next decade.

This week, we examine whether AUKUS was ever really about submarines at all. As new legislation moves through the US Congress, including provisions within the 2027 National Defense Authorization Act that would significantly deepen military technology integration between the United States and Israel, important questions are emerging about where Australia fits into an increasingly interconnected defence architecture. AI, autonomous weapons, cyber warfare, missile defence systems and advanced military networks are no longer separate national projects – they are becoming part of a broader system designed around “interoperability” – the increasingly common and innocuous sounding defence term that describes the ability of allied military forces, intelligence agencies and weapons platforms to operate as a single integrated structure.

The implications for Australia could be profound. Through AUKUS Pillar II, Australia is already committing itself to deeper integration with American defence technologies and strategic planning. If the United States further embeds Israeli defence capabilities within its own military and industrial systems, what does that mean for Australia’s future defence outlook? Would Australia retain genuine strategic independence, or would key decisions increasingly be influenced by technological dependencies in Washington and Tel Aviv, and supply chains and military arrangements beyond its direct control?

The debate also raises broader questions about sovereignty in the 21st century. Military alliances have always required compromise, but modern defence integration operates at a level far beyond traditional treaty arrangements. Nations can become dependent not simply through formal agreements, but through shared platforms, intelligence systems, communications networks and procurement decisions. As Australia commits hundreds of billions of dollars to AUKUS, what safeguards exist to ensure that future governments retain the capacity to make independent decisions about military engagement, strategic priorities and national interests?

At its heart, this is not simply a discussion about defence procurement or foreign policy. It’s a debate about accountability, democratic oversight and Australia’s place in a rapidly changing world. As AUKUS evolves beyond submarines and into a much broader strategic project, Australians deserve to know exactly what commitments are being made in their name, what future obligations may arise from them, and whether the country is moving towards a model of defence co-operation that future generations may find difficult to reverse.

Because the real question is no longer when will the submarines arrive: it’s about what Australia becomes once this integration has been completed.

#AUSPOL #AUKUS #geopolitics #NewPoliticsPodcast

The Albanese government frequently presents Australia as a defender of international law, human rights and the so-called rules-based international order. But when allegations involve one of Australia’s closest allies, those principles appear increasingly difficult to uphold.

This week, we examine serious allegations made by Australian citizens who were detained by Israeli forces following the interception of the Sumud Flotilla. Claims of sexual violence, physical abuse and rape have now been referred to the International Criminal Court, raising profound questions about accountability, consistency and Australia’s response to alleged human rights violations involving the state of Israel.

The issue extends beyond the details of any individual allegation. At its heart is the broader question of whether Australia applies the same standards to all accusations of abuse, regardless of where they occur or who is accused. For years, Australian political leaders have argued that victims of sexual violence should be heard, supported and that their allegations deserve proper investigation. Those principles became central to national debates following the #MeToo movement, the Brittany Higgins case and broader discussions about violence against women. Yet when allegations emerge from Australians detained by Israeli authorities, the political response appears markedly different.

The government’s approach reflects a growing problem within Australian foreign policy. While ministers regularly invoke international law in relation to conflicts involving geopolitical rivals, Israel continues to receive a level of diplomatic protection that would be unimaginable for many other nations. From the killing of Australian aid worker Zomi Frankcom in Gaza to ongoing allegations of civilian harm in Gaza and Lebanon, expressions of concern have rarely translated into meaningful diplomatic consequences.

The referral of these allegations to the International Criminal Court introduces another dimension. For the complainants, the ICC may represent the only forum capable of conducting an independent investigation beyond the political interests of either Australia or Israel. The case therefore becomes not only a test of the allegations themselves, but also a test of Australia’s commitment to the international institutions it once helped establish and champion.

At the same time, the domestic political implications are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Australia’s large Lebanese and Middle Eastern communities are watching closely, while younger voters are demanding greater consistency between government rhetoric and government action. For many Australians, the debate is no longer simply about events in Gaza, southern Lebanon or Israel. It is about whether human rights principles are universal, or whether they depend on political convenience.

As public scrutiny grows and international legal processes continue, Anthony Albanese and Penny Wong face an increasingly difficult challenge. The question is no longer whether Australia supports international law in principle. The question is whether it is prepared to uphold those principles when doing so carries a political cost.

AUKUS was sold to Australians as a transformational defence agreement that would deliver a fleet of nuclear-powered submarines and strengthen the nation’s security for decades to come. But nearly five years after the deal was announced, the questions are mounting while all the answers remain elusive.

With Defence Minister Richard Marles confirming that Australia will receive second-hand Virginia-class submarines from the United States, we need to know how a project expected to cost up to $368 billion has shifted from promises of new submarines to used ones, which have use-by date of 33 years. At the same time, Australia continues to spend billions helping expand American and British shipbuilding capacity, despite growing uncertainty over exactly what will be delivered, when it will arrive, and whether Australia will have meaningful control over the program.

As former Labor minister Peter Garrett begins an independent review of AUKUS, the spotlight is falling on one of the most expensive public policy decisions in Australian history. Why has there never been a comprehensive parliamentary inquiry into the agreement? What does Australia actually gain from the deal? And how much sovereignty is being surrendered as Australia’s defence infrastructure becomes increasingly integrated with the United States and Britain?

We examine the escalating costs, shifting promises and strategic assumptions behind AUKUS, why Australia appears to be carrying much of the financial risk, and whether the country is becoming locked into the geopolitical priorities of others. As global politics continues to change and governments come and go, is AUKUS a visionary defence investment, or an extraordinarily expensive gamble that Australia may come to regret?

The resignation of National Anti-Corruption Commission commissioner Paul Brereton is a significant moment for one of the Albanese government’s flagship integrity reforms, but it also raises a far deeper issue: Australia’s federal anti-corruption watchdog has failed to meet the expectations placed upon it. Established in 2023 amid widespread public anger over Robodebt, sports rorts, overspending on consultants, ministerial scandals and declining trust in politics, the NACC was presented as a transformative institution that would restore accountability and transparency to government. Nearly three years later, however, many Australians are still waiting for evidence that the commission is willing – or able – to confront the most powerful figures in public life.

In this episode, we examine why the NACC has become a source of frustration for supporters of stronger integrity measures and critics of government alike. Brereton’s tenure was overshadowed by repeated conflict-of-interest concerns, frequent recusals and growing criticism that the commission had become secretive, overly cautious and disconnected from public expectations. While the NACC has secured a small number of convictions – 11 in three years – its focus on lower-level public sector misconduct has left many questioning why major political controversies, including matters arising from the Robodebt Royal Commission, have not resulted in high-profile investigations.

Unlike powerful state-based bodies such as the NSW ICAC, it seems that the federal commission was deliberately designed with significant limitations. Restrictions on public hearings, narrow legal definitions of corruption, limited resources and a highly risk-averse culture have created a watchdog that often appears more concerned with managing legal processes than exposing misconduct. The result is a growing perception that Australia has created an anti-corruption body that looks tough on paper but remains reluctant to challenge entrenched political power.

As Labor begins the search for a new commissioner, the debate is no longer simply about who should lead the NACC – it’s about whether Australia’s anti-corruption framework is capable of delivering the accountability it promised. If public confidence in democratic institutions is to be restored, reforming the watchdog itself may become just as important as the reform that created it.

The teal independents emerged as a political rebellion against the Liberal Party’s shift over into culture-war politics under figures like Scott Morrison and Peter Dutton, offering the more affluent urban voters a politically safer alternative that combined economic conservatism with climate action, integrity in politics and socially progressive values. But as discussion grows about whether the teals should formally become a political party, a major contradiction has emerged: the teal movement succeeded precisely because it was not a party.

In this episode, we examine whether formalising the teal independents into a national political force would strengthen their influence or destroy the independent appeal that made them successful in the first place. With figures like David Pocock linked to discussions about a broader alliance, the debate highlights the growing fragmentation of Australian politics and the collapse of traditional party loyalties.

The Liberal Party’s neglect of moderate urban voters created the conditions for the rise of the teals, beginning with the election of Zali Steggall in 2019. Six years later, the Liberals have been virtually wiped out of many inner-city electorates. But similar warning signs may now be emerging for the Labor government, as rising housing costs, stagnant wages and economic insecurity leave many working and lower-middle-income Australians feeling increasingly politically homeless.

That vacuum is now being exploited by outsider movements like One Nation, which continues to attract protest support while also embracing surprisingly interventionist economic policies including a gas export tax, a sovereign wealth fund and limits on negative gearing. Major parties have increasingly ceded political ground by refusing to pursue ambitious structural reform, particularly when confronted by powerful corporate and mining interests.

As Australian politics becomes more unstable and fragmented, we ask if new political alliances – whether teal, populist or community-based – could eventually reshape the country’s political landscape. The parties and movements that organise themselves most effectively over the next decade may ultimately inherit an electorate that no longer feels represented by the traditional political system.

In this episode of the New Politics podcast, we examine how the debate surrounding the 2026 Budget has quickly moved into a battle over class, aspiration, political power and the future direction of Australian capitalism itself. The Liberal Party has framed Labor’s housing reforms as an “assault on aspiration”, warning of attacks on small investors, family wealth and entrepreneurship, while conservative commentators are recycling familiar rhetoric from the Howard era about rewards for hard work and property ownership. Yet much of this language increasingly feels disconnected from the reality facing millennials and Gen Z Australians, many of whom now see home ownership as permanently out of reach under the current system.

We explore how the media narrative surrounding the Budget has become heavily shaped by vested interests with enormous financial exposure to property speculation and tax concessions. From sensational claims that Australia is abandoning investment and venture capital, to aggressive polling designed to frame the Budget as “bad for Australia”, the reaction has been unusually intense even by Australian political standards. But who exactly is driving these narratives, and whose interests are actually being protected? As property prices, rents and inequality continue to rise, the debate increasingly reflects a deeper divide between older wealth holders who benefited from decades of deregulation and younger Australians demanding structural economic reform.

We also look at whether this Budget really represents the massive political gamble the media claims it to be. Despite the commentary, Albanese remains one of the most cautious and focus-grouped prime ministers in modern Australian history, and Labor clearly understands that housing affordability has become one of the defining political issues of the decade. Rather than a reckless gamble, the reforms may instead reflect a broader shift in electoral reality: governments can no longer endlessly prioritise property speculation, tax concessions and wealth accumulation when an entire generation feels economically excluded from the system itself.

Ultimately, the concocted backlash may say less about the Albanese government and more about a political and media establishment struggling to defend an economic model that many Australians increasingly believe no longer works for them.

The Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion is revealing something much larger than the question of how Australia responds to discrimination. Increasingly, the inquiry is becoming a test of where political dissent begins and ends – particularly when it comes to Israel and Palestine. As governments, media organisations and major institutions attempt to navigate growing public anger over the war in Gaza, the Commission is emerging as part of a broader political struggle over free speech, civil liberties and the role of protest in democratic society.

We examine how accusations of antisemitism are becoming deeply entangled with debates surrounding Zionism, Palestinian solidarity and criticism of the Israeli state, and ask whether Australia is moving towards a political environment where certain international conflicts are treated differently to others, and where criticism of some forms of state violence becomes increasingly difficult to express without political consequences.

There’s a contradiction within the language of “social cohesion” itself. While political leaders regularly call for unity and tolerance, genuine social cohesion cannot exist if some communities and perspectives are excluded from public debate. The absence of Palestinian voices from institutions, the controversy surrounding the IHRA definition of antisemitism, and the broader attempts to regulate political language all raise larger questions about who gets heard in Australia – and who doesn’t.

Antisemitism is real and must be opposed, alongside all forms of racism and discrimination. But democratic societies also depend on the ability to distinguish between hatred directed at people and criticism directed at governments, ideologies and states. Australia is increasingly confronting difficult questions about free speech, political identity, historical memory and the future of democratic debate itself.

#AustralianPolitics #RoyalCommission #Antisemitism #Palestine #Israel #FreeSpeech #PoliticalSpeech #SocialCohesion #CivilLiberties #IHRA #Democracy #Media #NewPoliticsPodcast

The Farrer byelection may have shocked the political establishment, but the real story is not just that One Nation won its first ever federal lower-house seat – it’s that the Liberal Party’s political base has collapsed. One Nation candidate David Farley secured a decisive victory, while the Liberal Party’s primary vote crashed from 43 per cent at the 2025 federal election to just 12 per cent barely a year later. That scale of decline is almost unheard of in modern Australian politics and points to a much deeper structural crisis inside Australian conservatism.

For years, support for the Liberal and National parties has been eroding across regional and outer-suburban Australia as voters face housing stress, stagnant wages, declining public services and growing distrust in political institutions. The Farrer result exposed how much anger is now directed towards the conservative parties themselves. While byelections are often protest votes, this result reflected something larger: a growing sense that the Liberal Party no longer stands for anything beyond opposition and internal conflict. Leadership changes alone are unlikely to fix that problem.

At the same time, One Nation’s rise has been carefully cultivated over decades. Pauline Hanson has maintained an enormous public profile through sustained exposure across commercial television and right-wing media, helping transform One Nation from a fringe protest movement into a permanent force in Australian politics. Backed by wealthy conservative interests and sections of the media, the party has become a vehicle for pushing culture wars, anti-immigration politics, climate scepticism and neoliberal economics further into the mainstream.

But One Nation’s growth is also creating a dangerous fracture on the political right. Much of its support is coming directly from former Liberal and National voters, particularly in regional areas, and there are now open discussions among some conservative MPs about defecting to the party altogether. The result in Farrer suggests the biggest threat facing the Liberal Party may no longer come from Labor – but from the political forces emerging from inside its own collapsing coalition.

Subscribe now

The 2026 Australian federal Budget has triggered outrage from conservative commentators, who are branding it everything from a “Whitlam budget” to outright “Marxism”. But the reaction says more about the collapse of the bipartisan consensus on neoliberalism than it does about the Budget itself. After four decades of governments protecting property speculation, corporate power and market-driven economics, even modest reforms to negative gearing and capital gains tax are now being treated as radical political acts.

We examine Labor’s cautious attempt to rebalance Australia’s housing market, and why the government’s reforms reflect a growing public recognition that housing should be treated as a social necessity rather than a speculative asset. We also look at the political legacy of the 2019 negative gearing scare campaign, the worsening housing affordability crisis, and why Labor appears trapped between responding to public anger over inequality while still protecting the broader neoliberal framework that created it.

There’s a lot of contradictions inside the Budget itself: limited cost-of-living relief, no meaningful increase to JobSeeker, cuts to the NDIS disguised as “slowing growth”, continued underfunding of education, and massive support for defence, mining and corporate interests. While Treasurer Jim Chalmers has taken tentative steps towards reform, Australia’s political economy still overwhelmingly favours wealth, property and corporate power over public need.

Plus, we analyse Angus Taylor’s predictable budget reply, the Liberal Party’s continued obsession with “tax cuts”, and why Pauline Hanson accusing Labor of “communism” may be the clearest sign yet that Australia’s political debate is shifting in ways the conservative establishment no longer fully understands.

Subscribe now

#AustralianPolitics #FederalBudget #Budget2026 #HousingCrisis #NegativeGearing #CapitalGainsTax #Neoliberalism #LaborParty #JimChalmers #CostOfLiving #NDIS #HousingAffordability #AustralianEconomy #NewPoliticsPodcast

In this episode of the New Politics podcast, we examine the interim findings of the Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion following the devastating Bondi Beach attack that killed 15 people and injured more than 40 others. While the Commission’s initial recommendations on gun control, policing resources and intelligence coordination appear measured and relatively uncontroversial, major questions remain unanswered about the role of Australia’s intelligence and security agencies in the lead-up to the tragedy.

We explore whether ASIO, the Australian Federal Police and NSW Police missed critical warning signs after reports emerged that alleged Bondi attackers had been monitored by ASIO as far back as 2019, with allegations of extremist links, ISIS sympathies and weapons stockpiling. If these reports are credible, how did such a catastrophic failure occur, and why are security agencies insisting there was “no intelligence failure”? We discuss the growing concerns around operational secrecy, national security claims, intelligence sharing failures and whether democratic accountability is being sacrificed in the name of protecting Australia’s security institutions.

There’s also the parallels between the Bondi attacks and the 2014 Lindt Café siege, where gunman Man Haron Monis was previously known to ASIO before carrying a major terror incident. What lessons, if any, did Australia’s intelligence agencies learn from Lindt Café, and are similar mistakes now being repeated? We analyse how ASIO’s political influence, expanding surveillance powers and repeated funding increases intersect with questions of public trust, transparency and civil liberties.

We also discuss whether the Royal Commission’s focus on antisemitism and “social cohesion” risks shifting attention away from deeper questions about institutional accountability, intelligence failures and democratic freedoms. Could the inquiry eventually be used to justify tougher restrictions on protests, free speech and dissent, particularly around pro-Palestine activism and criticism of the Israeli state? And can Australia maintain an open democratic society while balancing security, grief, political dissent and civil liberties?

Subscribe now

In this episode, we explore the latest incident involving Donald Trump, framed as an assassination attempt but unfolding in a political environment where truth itself has been eroded beyond recognition. As conspiracy theories mix in with official narratives, we examine how years of attacks on “fake news,” media manipulation and disinformation have created a climate where large sections of the public no longer trust anything – even events that may be real. This is the logical endpoint of a political strategy built on permanent distrust, where the line between truth and fiction is deliberately blurred, and every crisis becomes a political weapon.

We explore how the Trump playbook turns chaos into opportunity, with crises immediately reframed to blame political opponents, particularly Democrats, while justifying expansive and controversial policies. This latest incident is being used to support a massive $400 million White House ballroom project — framed as harmless infrastructure but raising serious concerns about surveillance, security expansion, and executive power in the United States. While US foreign policies of interventionism and power are not new, the Trump era has stripped away the pretence, making these strategies more explicit and aggressive.

Turning to global implications, we analyse how instability in the United States is reverberating across the world, including tensions within NATO and growing uncertainty around the AUKUS alliance. The recent visit by King Charles III to the White House highlights the seriousness of these fractures, with allies increasingly concerned about US reliability, defence commitments and geopolitical strategy, particularly in relation to Iran and the Indo–Pacific.

Finally, we consider the political consequences of permanent crisis. When every day is defined by chaos, outrage and competing narratives, voter fatigue becomes inevitable. As the United States heads toward crucial midterm elections, we ask whether this constant state of instability will eventually produce a breaking point among the electorate – and why the normalisation of chaos may prove to be the most dangerous development of all.

Share

We take a closer look at the role of mining billionaire Gina Rinehart, whose speech on Anzac Day injected talking points on immigration, taxation, and transgender issues into debate – issues far removed from the historical meaning of the Gallipoli campaign. We explore how wealthy power brokers, media influence and political donations are shaping public narratives, and how figures connected to organisations like the Institute of Public Affairs, the Liberal Party, and One Nation are helping redefine Anzac Day as a vehicle for right-wing ideology.

There’s a historical reality of the original Anzacs – largely working-class Australians, many of them union members – challenging the modern appropriation of their legacy by political actors who claim ownership over national identity and patriotism. We reflect on the overlooked contributions of over 1,300 Indigenous Australians who served in World War I, many of whom were denied basic rights at home, and ask what it means when their service is disrespected through political protest and division at commemorative events.

More broadly, we explore how Anzac Day has, over decades, been elevated into an almost untouchable national ritual – one increasingly resistant to critique, yet vulnerable to political capture by the right.

Photograph: Bunurong elder Mark Brown. Image: Ruby Alexander/The Age.

Subscribe now

Share

A gas export tax could raise around $20 billion per year in revenue – funding desperately needed investment in health, education, the NDIS, housing, and public services – yet remains politically sidelined due to the influence of the gas lobby, energy companies, and entrenched vested interests across the property and finance sectors. The Henry Tax Review was a missed opportunity to transform Australia’s tax system more than a decade ago, with estimates suggesting the federal budget could be tens of billions stronger each year if those reforms had been implemented.

We explore the broader political failure to tackle structural reform, including the ongoing hesitation around negative gearing changes, and question whether the Albanese government has the political courage to act while it holds a strong electoral position. With the federal Budget approaching, we’ll soon find out if Australia is once again about to miss its window for reform, or whether decisive leadership can finally deliver a fairer tax system that ensures Australians benefit from their own resources.

Subscribe now

Share

We look at how legislation in Queensland and New South Wales is blurring the line between legitimate political expression and so-called hate speech, and why these laws are increasingly being used to silence pro-Palestine activism, with even Jewish and Indigenous Australians caught up in the net.

We explore the contradictions at the heart of this crackdown, including the use of the same phrase by Israeli leaders such as Benjamin Netanyahu, and what this reveals about selective enforcement, political pressure, and the influence of pro-Israel lobbying in Australian politics. We also take a closer look at the role of key political figures including David Crisafulli and Chris Minns, the impact of Israel study tours on Australian MPs, and why multiple pieces of legislation that were pushed through despite warnings of unconstitutionality, are now being struck down by the courts – exposing serious concerns about governance, legal competence, and the willingness of governments to test constitutional limits to appease powerful interests.

Beyond protest laws, we connect these developments to broader structural issues in Australian politics, including the surge in defence spending, the $368 billion AUKUS deal, and the simultaneous scaling back of the National Disability Insurance Scheme, with up to 160,000 people potentially affected by cuts announced by Health Minister Mark Butler.

We analyse the contrast between the ease with which billions are allocated to military expansion and the resistance to funding essential social services like healthcare, housing, education and disability support, highlighting a growing imbalance in national priorities. We also examine Australia’s deepening alignment with United States foreign policy, the increasing militarisation of the economy, and the implications of contracts with companies such as Palantir, whose AI surveillance and defence technologies have been linked to controversial operations in Gaza and beyond. As Australia becomes more embedded in US-led defence and intelligence systems, including AUKUS and Pine Gap, we ask what this means for sovereignty, independence, and the country’s ability to act in its own national interest.

Share

Subscribe now