Switching Off Our Energy Strength While Running on Empty: Australia’s Energy Crisis

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?

We Get the Politics We Choose

My recent socials post about my quandary to stay on X or leave sparked a number of interesting responses.

First, it’s genuinely humbling when people take the time to say they value what I write. As someone who loves words, and firmly believes they matter, that is one of the greatest compliments. So, thank you.

Second, there was plenty of advice, which is always appreciated.

Finally, there were repeated comments about One Nation “listening.” That’s a more complex issue. One Nation are highly effective at listening and echoing the discontent that has been building for some time. “We hear you and we’ll fix it” is easy to say, but far harder to deliver. And sometimes, it simply can’t be delivered. Too often, that part is left unsaid.

We’ve seen this before. Labor’s promises on housing, Medicare gap fees, and cheaper energy are recent examples of how easy it is to overpromise and underdeliver. The list goes on.

What we need from political parties isn’t just listening, we need honesty. A willingness to commit to what is achievable, and the courage to be upfront about what isn’t, even when it’s unpopular. We need leadership that focuses on substance, not distraction and anger, and isn’t constantly chasing approval by appeasing competing tribes.

But this isn’t just on political parties.

As voters, we need to grow up. Politics is not a game, it has real consequences for our lives, our freedoms, and our future. We should approach it with the same care and judgement we apply to the most important decisions in our personal lives.

The idea of “what do we have to lose, I’ll give them a try” isn’t a standard most people would apply to choosing a partner, buying a home, or making a major life decision, so why apply it to voting?

And while it’s often said that one vote doesn’t matter, collectively they matter enormously. Recent elections have shown just how powerful that collective decision-making can be, particularly through preferences.

I also often hear that voters don’t understand preferences or are misled by how-to-vote cards. I don’t accept that. When you stand at the ballot box, it is very clear who you are voting for. It is printed plainly in front of you.

We need to stop letting ourselves, and each other, off the hook. Governments aren’t formed by accident or political magic. They are elected, deliberately, by voters.

And that means the standard of our politics will only ever be as high as the standard we demand, and the responsibility we’re prepared to take for the choices we make.

The Hard Truth About Polls, Politics, and Us

I’ve never been afraid to speak my mind. That hasn’t always served me well, even though I make a genuine effort to be honest and clear. I suspect this will be one of those times, but it needs to be said.

Another round of polls is out, and frankly, they’re depressing. Not just because of what they show, but because of what they say about us. Either too many people aren’t taking them seriously, or too many are making decisions without really thinking through the consequences. Neither is reassuring.

And then there’s how these polls are used. They’re no longer just a snapshot of public sentiment, they’ve become a tool to shape it. Headlines are crafted to steer opinion, to build momentum, to make outcomes feel inevitable. That should concern anyone who values genuine democratic choice.

Meanwhile, the country feels like it’s sliding. That trajectory didn’t start yesterday, but it’s hard to ignore that it has accelerated in recent years. Yet despite that, current polling suggests Anthony Albanese and Labor would still be in a winning position if an election were held now. That disconnect is hard to reconcile.

At the same time, One Nation is polling strongly, not because it offers a fully formed pathway forward, but because it is tapping into something very real: frustration, pressure, and a sense that people are not being heard. “We hear you, we’ll fix it” is a powerful message. But slogans are not solutions.

We’ve seen that before. Many believed Anthony Albanese was the answer. Twice. It’s worth asking, honestly, where that has left us.

Meanwhile, the Coalition continues to be dismissed. Not necessarily because it lacks capability, but because it isn’t playing the same game. It isn’t shouting the loudest or promising the quickest fix, it’s arguing for a more difficult path back to stability.

And here’s the part that should give people pause: figures like Angus Taylor and Matt Canavan bring significant economic and policy experience to the table, experience grounded in portfolios, markets, and the real-world mechanics of how economies function. You don’t have to agree with them, but dismissing that level of economic literacy in favour of whoever has the simplest or loudest message is a risk we shouldn’t be taking lightly.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: if we keep rewarding whoever tells us what we want to hear, rather than who is prepared to deal with reality, nothing will change. In fact, it will get worse.

I don’t say this lightly, but I do say it plainly, I’m losing faith in our willingness to confront hard truths and back those prepared to act on them. Two elections in a row suggest we’re not learning. If that continues, the next one won’t just be disappointing, it will deepen the very problems so many say they want fixed.

At some point, we either start thinking more critically about who and what we’re voting for…or we accept the consequences of not doing so.