The first wind turbine used to generate electricity was built by James Blyth in Scotland in 1887, powering the lights in his home. Hydroelectric power dates back even earlier—used in 1878 by William Armstrong to light a lamp at his house, Cragside.
Harnessing the sun is far older still. As early as the 7th century BC, magnifying glass–like tools were used to concentrate sunlight to start fires. By the 3rd century BC, the Ancient Greece and the Ancient Rome used “burning mirrors” to light torches for religious purposes.
There is a reason these early energy solutions didn’t scale in a meaningful way, they were unreliable, dependent on weather conditions, and expensive relative to their output. In response, innovators developed more consistent and scalable energy sources, most notably fossil fuels. The result was transformative, industry expanded, prosperity increased, health outcomes improved, and deaths from cold declined significantly.
Today, there are calls to rapidly phase out fossil fuels in the name of saving the planet, with a return to weather-dependent energy systems often framed as “progress.” In Australia, this has taken the form of an increasingly aggressive policy push away from coal, gas and traditional baseload power, alongside the progressive closure or restriction of key mining and energy projects that have long underpinned both domestic supply and export strength.
Critics argue this comes with real trade-offs, extensive land use, impacts on forests and agricultural land, and pressure on wildlife habitats, sometimes affecting already endangered species. There are also economic concerns, including rising energy costs, reduced industrial competitiveness, and growing strain on manufacturing.
Recent instability in the Middle East, and conflicts that have disrupted global energy flows, serve as a stark reminder of how fragile energy security can be when nations become reliant on external supply chains or ideologically constrained domestic production. The lesson is not abstract, energy is not just an environmental question, it is a strategic one. Countries that cannot reliably produce their own power place themselves at risk, economically and geopolitically.
This is why the question of energy self-sufficiency is becoming increasingly urgent. A nation rich in natural resources, like Australia, would historically have viewed abundant, reliable, domestically controlled energy as a strategic advantage. Yet current policy settings risk eroding that advantage, replacing it with a system more exposed to intermittency, global supply chains, and infrastructure vulnerability.
What is often ignored in this debate is Australia’s increasingly fragile position on fuel security. Despite being one of the world’s largest energy exporters, Australia holds only limited domestic fuel reserves and is heavily dependent on imported refined petroleum. In any serious global disruption, whether conflict, trade breakdown, or shipping constraint, that dependency becomes an immediate national vulnerability.
The steady dismantling of Australia’s refining capacity has compounded this risk. Where the nation once had multiple operational refineries, it now relies on a small number, leaving it exposed to external shocks and decisions made far beyond its shores. Put simply, Australia produces the raw resources, exports them, and then buys back the finished fuel, often at higher cost and with less control.
Rebuilding domestic refining is not an abstract policy idea, it is a strategic necessity. A sovereign refining capability would strengthen national resilience, reduce exposure to volatile global markets, and provide a reliable buffer in times of crisis. It would underpin critical industries, from agriculture to mining to defence, while restoring a layer of economic and industrial independence that has been steadily eroded.
Equally important is the question of upstream supply. Expanding domestic oil exploration and drilling would complement refining capacity and further strengthen Australia’s energy security. Rather than relying predominantly on imported crude and refined fuels, increasing local production would provide greater control over supply, reduce exposure to global disruptions, and better leverage Australia’s own resource base.
Supporters argue nuclear energy offers a path to maintain modern living standards while minimising environmental disruption. Yet at the same time, we are witnessing the large-scale clearing of old-growth forests and the industrialisation of rich agricultural land to accommodate renewable infrastructure, transformations that are often downplayed in the broader debate but are deeply felt by regional communities and environmental observers alike.
Critics of current policy settings argue that policymakers such as Chris Bowen and Matt Kean, despite positioning their agenda as environmentally responsible, are presiding over changes that risk long-term damage to landscapes, habitats, and food-producing land. From this perspective, the question is not just about intent, but about outcomes, and whether the path being pursued truly represents environmental stewardship.
And this is where the contradiction becomes impossible to ignore. While claiming environmental virtue, policymakers such as Chris Bowen and Matt Kean are, in the eyes of their critics, driving an agenda that is fundamentally reshaping and degrading the very landscapes they claim to protect.
If this is what is being called “clean” and “green,” then it is fair to ask, who are the real environmentalists, and what, exactly, are we trying to conserve?
