𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐝

One of the more frustrating things about political discussion online is not disagreement itself. Disagreement is healthy. The problem is engaging with people who are deeply tribal, poorly informed about how politics actually functions, yet completely convinced they are politically sophisticated.

A recent exchange I had summed this up perfectly.

The discussion began after I shared comments from Senator Jacinta Nampijinpa Price about the horrific conditions in some town camps and the death of young Kumanjayi Little Baby. Someone replied:

“Yeah but JP when are you gonna do something tangible… it’s been all talk to date?”

I responded with what I thought was a fairly obvious point:

“What do you expect her to do? She isn’t a government minister and every proposal she tables in parliament is voted down by Labor and the Greens.”

That should not be controversial. Opposition politicians do not govern. They can advocate, pressure, propose policy, campaign, raise awareness and attempt to persuade the public. They cannot implement government policy unless they are in government or have the numbers in parliament.

Instead of engaging with that reality, the reply was essentially: “That’s her job to work out.”

In other words, no actual answer, just vague outrage and demands for “leadership.”

When I pointed out that this was dodging the question, the conversation quickly deteriorated into personal attacks:

“You are being purposely obtuse…”

“You should stop talking rubbish…”

“You are either dumb or disingenuous…”

“A bit inexperienced with politics generally…”

That last line amused me because it reflected a common problem in online political debate: people mistake aggression for knowledge.

Apparently, if you understand the basic distinction between government and opposition, you are “inexperienced.” If you point out parliamentary realities, you are “making excuses.” If you ask someone to explain how an opposition senator is supposed to unilaterally implement policy, you are somehow the unreasonable one.

Eventually the person proposed that Jacinta Price should organise protests and demonstrations in affected towns. Fair enough, at least that was finally a concrete suggestion. I even agreed that bringing people to the camps to see conditions firsthand could be worthwhile. Too many Australians discuss these issues from a distance without understanding the reality on the ground. Direct exposure to conditions in some town camps might force a more honest national conversation.

But large-scale protests in places like Alice Springs are another matter entirely. Given the tensions and volatility that already exist in some areas, there is a real risk that demonstrations could quickly deteriorate into unrest or riots, ultimately making conditions worse rather than better. That would help nobody, least of all the residents already living with these problems every day.

But then the conversation drifted into suggesting she should join One Nation, followed by the predictable attacks on anyone unwilling to support Pauline Hanson.

At that point the discussion stopped being about outcomes and became what these discussions often become: political team sport.

What stood out most was the contradiction running through the entire exchange. On one hand, there was constant criticism that “nothing gets changed.” On the other hand, when I pointed to a real-world example of grassroots pressure helping stop the misinformation/disinformation bill, that too was dismissed.

According to this person, people power apparently does not matter either.

Then came perhaps the strangest part of the exchange. The person insisted the misinformation/disinformation bill had supposedly been “pushed through a week later with revisions” and claimed Pauline Hanson was now campaigning to get rid of it.

But that made no sense because the bill had already been dropped. You cannot campaign to repeal legislation that never passed parliament in the first place. They had clearly confused it with something else entirely.

Yet despite confidently lecturing others about politics and accusing people of “half truths” and “misrepresentation,” they blocked me when corrected.

That, in many ways, captures modern political discourse perfectly.

People increasingly approach politics not as a serious civic responsibility requiring facts, nuance and an understanding of institutions, but as emotional tribal warfare. Many do not actually want discussion. They want affirmation. They want slogans. They want outrage. And if you challenge them on details, they often resort to insults rather than substance.

Politics is complicated. Governments have limits. Oppositions have limits. The Senate has limits. Public pressure matters. Parliamentary numbers matter. None of that disappears because someone is angry online.

What concerns me most is that many of the loudest political voices online often possess only a superficial understanding of how the system works, yet speak with absolute certainty. They confuse cynicism with wisdom and hostility with intelligence.

That is not healthy for political debate, and it certainly does not help solve serious problems.

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

I’m often copied into posts or replies urging me to support One Nation, and sometimes met with insults when I don’t. This is simply an explanation of why I cannot.

I respect people’s right to join the party and to vote for its candidates. But I cannot ignore what I see as a repeated pattern of poor judgement and ethical concerns in decisions made under its leadership.

A particularly troubling example involved the hiring of a volunteer who had a prior conviction for serious child sexual offences and was later publicly defended by the party leadership when concerns were raised about the appointment.

This was followed by controversy surrounding the repeated engagement of a senior campaign staffer with a serious history of violent offending, including sexual and domestic violence related offences. Despite widespread public concern and criticism, there were multiple instances where the individual was re engaged in senior roles before ultimately being removed after significant political and media pressure.

Leadership responses to these situations have, at various times, been framed as offering “a second chance”, while concerns raised internally and externally were reportedly dismissed or described as politically motivated attacks rather than matters of standards or judgement.

Recent state and federal elections have also been associated with further vetting controversies, including candidates who reportedly had histories involving intervention orders, restraining order breaches, or other serious legal matters. In some cases, individuals were disendorsed only after such issues became publicly known.

These do not appear to be isolated oversights. Former candidates and insiders have publicly alleged that internal concerns about vetting and candidate suitability were not always acted on appropriately.

I am not suggesting the party leader is personally responsible for every individual’s past actions, nor for every decision made at organisational level. But as leader, there is responsibility for the standards set, the culture reinforced, and the judgement applied in senior appointments and candidate selection.

When leaders lower standards, it is perhaps unsurprising when volunteers or candidates appear to follow suit. Recent public controversies have only reinforced that concern for me, including incidents involving volunteers, public defence of questionable conduct by party representatives, and examples of candidates using language in public commentary that many would consider inappropriate for someone seeking public office.

That is not the level of conduct, professionalism, or judgement I expect from people seeking public office. People are entitled to criticise behaviour they disagree with, but public representatives should be capable of doing so without resorting to personal abuse.

When a party campaigns heavily on law and order, protecting women and children, and being tough on crime, repeated controversies involving staffing and candidate selection connected to serious criminal histories inevitably undermine its credibility. The rhetoric and the actions do not always appear to align.

Leading a protest movement is very different from governing. Government requires disciplined teams, consistent standards, and careful judgement in who is placed in positions of responsibility. In my view, the pattern of controversies reflects a politics of outrage rather than the stability and accountability expected of a governing party.

These repeated staffing and candidate controversies matter because leadership appointments are a direct reflection of judgement. While the party often frames such decisions as redemption or second chances, the issue is whether individuals with serious histories of violence or abuse should be placed into senior campaign or representative political roles, particularly in a party that emphasises law and order and community safety.

That distinction is important.

A leader’s hiring decisions reveal the standards they apply when responsibility and public trust are involved. In my view, these decisions demonstrate poor judgement and undermine confidence in leadership standards.

To me, this goes beyond politics. It speaks to judgement.

Decision making relies on personal standards, evidence, accountability, and risk assessment. In these cases, the willingness to prioritise redemption narratives while dismissing concerns as political attacks raises questions about consistency and safeguards.

That is not leadership I can place confidence in.

If judgement is compromised in high stakes personnel decisions, it raises legitimate questions about the quality of judgement applied elsewhere, in governance, policy, and accountability.

Some people may see these matters differently, particularly if they have never been personally affected by violence or abuse. But for those who have, the impact is not abstract. The seriousness of these issues cannot be set aside while simultaneously claiming to champion victims and community safety.

For these reasons, I cannot support a political party that, in my view, has repeatedly shown poor judgement in dealing with issues involving serious violence, abuse, and community safety.

I respect your right to support One Nation if you choose to do so. I simply ask that my decision not to is respected in return.

Knowledge, Narrative and Responsibility

One of the most significant problems in this country isn’t just political disagreement, it’s a widespread lack of understanding about how government and the public service actually function.

Most people don’t have even a basic grasp of roles and responsibilities: how authority is divided, how decisions are made, and who is accountable for what. The distinction between the ceremonial powers of the Governor-General of Australia, the executive authority of the Prime Minister of Australia, and the operational role of ministers and their departments is routinely blurred or misunderstood. Add to that a lack of awareness about how the public service operates — its continuity across governments, its advisory role, and the fact that departmental leadership is often administrative rather than political — and you end up with a public conversation built on shaky foundations.

There’s also very little appreciation of the history and structure of bureaucratic leadership. Senior public servants aren’t elected officials; they’re appointed for their expertise in governance, economics, law, and administration. Yet they’re frequently judged as if they were politicians, or dismissed outright because they don’t fit some imagined mould of what leadership “should” look like.

Layered over that is political tribalism, which makes the problem worse. People aren’t just uninformed about how the system works, they’re often selectively informed. The same action is condemned or defended depending entirely on who is in power. A decision that would be labelled incompetent, corrupt, or dangerous if made by one side is suddenly justified, excused, or ignored when made by the other. Principles become flexible, standards shift, and consistency disappears.

That double standard erodes any meaningful accountability. It rewards loyalty over scrutiny and encourages people to defend “their side” rather than assess decisions on their merits. And it makes some people afraid to speak up and the challenge for fear of being attacked, vilified and shunned. It fosters manipulative behaviour by skilled politicians who care more about winning than winning the right way. Once that mindset takes hold, facts become secondary to affiliation, and debate turns into a contest of narratives rather than an exchange of ideas.

The consequence is predictable. When people don’t understand how the system works , and filter everything through a partisan lens they misattribute responsibility. Decisions get blamed on the wrong individuals or institutions. Complex policy issues are reduced to slogans. And into that vacuum, misinformation thrives.

Social media accelerates the problem. Claims that align with someone’s political leaning are accepted and shared without scrutiny, while anything that challenges those views is dismissed out of hand. It stops being about facts or governance and becomes about tribe, reinforcing beliefs rather than testing them.

At that point, accountability breaks down. If voters don’t understand who is responsible for what, they can’t properly judge performance. And when standards are applied inconsistently, even clear failures can be waved away while minor issues are amplified into outrage. It becomes less about competence and more about perception.

You don’t need everyone to be a constitutional expert. But a functioning democracy does rely on a baseline level of civic literacy, and a willingness to apply the same standards regardless of who holds power. Without that, the loudest voices, not the most informed, end up shaping the narrative, and that’s a poor foundation for any country trying to govern itself effectively.