Monday, 28 September 2026

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧?

I’ve said before that One Nation increasingly appears to operate as much like a commercial enterprise as a political party.

And the examples keep accumulating.

 

The question isn’t whether a political party is entitled to raise money. Of course it is.

 

The question is what happens when political fundraising, commercial ventures, privately owned companies, party officials & party money increasingly intersect.

 

Follow the money

 

We now have the Small Batch Brewing arrangement. Small Batch Brewing is a privately owned company involving Pauline Hanson, James Ashby & party official Alex Jones.
 
One Nation has acknowledged approving party funds for a loan to establish a shed & distilling equipment on Ashby’s privately owned land, saying the arrangement would minimise costs, including commercial rent.
 
The party has projected that the micro-distillery could ultimately produce up to $500,000 a year in licensing revenue.
 
So, follow the structure:
 
One Nation funds → loan to privately owned company → company funds shed/distillery → shed situated on Ashby’s privately owned land → company operates alcohol business → One Nation expects licensing revenue.
 
That doesn’t prove wrongdoing.
 
But it does raise perfectly legitimate governance questions.

  • Who owns the shed?
  • What are the terms of the loan?
  • Is it secured?
  • What arrangements exist for the use of Ashby’s land?
  • What happens to the improvements made to that land?
  • And what contractual arrangements guarantee that the financial benefit flows back to One Nation?
There is another obvious governance issue.

Ashby sits on the One Nation national executive that approved the arrangement, while also being a shareholder in the company receiving the loan & the owner of the land on which the structure sits.
 
One Nation says the decision was unanimous.
 
Again, none of that proves wrongdoing. But related-party transactions are precisely where transparency matters most.
 
Then there’s Victoria
 
One Nation says 1,209 people expressed interest in becoming candidates for the Victorian election on 28 November.
 
Around 220 reportedly proceeded to the final stage, where applicants were required to pay a $150 non-refundable application fee — potentially producing around $33,000.
 
Successful candidates were then told they would need to contribute another $5,500 of their own money to run.
 
If One Nation fields candidates across all 88 lower-house & eight upper-house seats, those candidate contributions could amount to another $528,000.
 
Add estimated membership fees associated with the process & the total could reach around $633,000.
 
One Nation says the $150 is a nominal cost-recovery measure for police & other candidate checks, while the candidate contributions are paid into its Victorian state campaign account.
 
Candidate fees themselves are hardly extraordinary in Australian politics.
 
But the broader picture is becoming increasingly interesting.
  • Alcohol.
  • Merchandising.
  • Licensing revenue.
  • A media enterprise 
  • Candidate application fees.
  • Candidate campaign contributions.

And commercial arrangements involving companies owned by senior party figures.

 

Interestingly, I’m no longer alone in wondering about the distinction between the political organisation & the business operation.

 

Jennifer Game, One Nation’s former South Australian leader & Pauline Hanson’s policy adviser for eight years, told Four Corners:

 

“It’s not a party, in truth. It’s more like a small business.”

 

And then there is the structure itself

 

The Australian Business Register records Pauline Hanson’s One Nation Limited as an Australian Public Company.

 

Separately, One Nation Queensland Division Inc. holds the registered business names “One Nation” & “Pauline Hanson’s One Nation.”

 

There is also a separate Pauline Hanson’s One Nation Merchandising entity, along with various state entities.

 

None of that is inherently improper. Political organisations need legal entities through which to operate, employ people, enter contracts & conduct their affairs.

 

But when significant commercial activities begin operating alongside the political operation, the structure becomes relevant.

 

And this is where comparisons with Labor, Liberal & the Nationals need some examination.

 

One Nation has pointed to commercial activities associated with other political parties in defending its own arrangements.

 

But simply saying “other political parties have businesses too” misses the point.

 

The structures are not necessarily comparable.

 

The Liberal Party is structured as a federation of autonomous state & territory divisions, with members, branches, state councils, a Federal Council & Federal Executive.

 

The Nationals operates on a similarly federated model, with autonomous state parties built from local branches, electorate councils, state conferences & central councils which then affiliate federally.

 

Labor likewise has its longstanding branch, state & federal organisational structure.

 

These are large membership-based political organisations with layers of internal governance.

 

One Nation’s commercial arrangements raise a somewhat different question.

 

Take Small Batch Brewing.

 

One Nation itself has compared its commercial activities with Labor’s interests in licensed clubs & the Liberal Party’s involvement with Parakeelia.

 

But there is a significant distinction.

 

Small Batch Brewing isn’t owned by One Nation.

 

Nor, according to the reported corporate records, is it owned by a trust controlled by One Nation.

 

It is privately owned in equal shares by Pauline Hanson, James Ashby & Alex Jones.

 

Yet One Nation says the party has agreed to loan that privately owned company the establishment costs for a shed & distilling equipment, with the shed located on land privately owned by Ashby.

 

That is the distinction that interests me.

 

The issue isn’t whether political parties are permitted to raise money commercially. Clearly, they can.

 

Nor is the mere existence of companies, incorporated associations, trusts, or business names particularly remarkable.

 

The question is who owns the commercial entity receiving the party’s money, who owns the resulting assets, who controls the transactions between those entities & where the ultimate financial benefit resides.

 

A party-owned or party-controlled asset is one thing.

 

Party money flowing into a privately owned company whose shareholders include senior figures within that same political party is structurally quite another.

 

Revenue is not profit

 

And that brings me to another aspect worth considering — financial disclosure.

 

Political-party electoral disclosures are not conventional commercial profit-and-loss accounts.

 

The Australian Electoral Commission requires political parties to disclose matters including total receipts, payments & debts, along with specified details above the relevant disclosure thresholds.

 

Importantly, the AEC itself makes the distinction clear: political-party returns disclose amounts received, not income or profit.

 

So, if a venture receives $14,000 but costs $12,750 to operate, the disclosure records $14,000 in receipts & $12,750 in payments. It does not simply report a $1,250 profit.

 

That distinction becomes increasingly important when a political organisation has multiple commercial activities & transactions involving separate entities.

 

Knowing that money came in & money went out isn’t necessarily the same thing as being able to see a consolidated commercial picture.

  • How much revenue does each venture generate?
  • What does each venture cost?
  • Where does the resulting profit ultimately sit?
  • Who owns the intellectual property?
  • Who owns the physical assets?
  • What related-party transactions occur?
  • And who ultimately benefits?

And what happens if One Nation doesn’t?

 

That brings me to perhaps the most interesting question.

 

Political parties rise & fall.

 

One Nation is currently enjoying increased electoral support. But political fortunes can change remarkably quickly. Parties split, contract, merge, deregister or sometimes simply disappear.

 

Commercial assets don’t necessarily disappear with them.

 

  • A shed remains a shed.
  • A distillery remains a distillery.
  • A company remains a company unless it is wound up.
  • Intellectual property can retain value.

Brands can retain value.

 

Licensing arrangements can retain value.

 

So, if party money has helped finance commercial assets or ventures involving separately owned entities, what happens if the political party itself one day contracts dramatically or ceases to operate in its present form?

 

Who owns those assets then?

  • The political party?
  • A corporate entity?
  • The private company?
  • The shareholders?
  • The landowner?
  • The members?

And perhaps that last question is the most important.

 

If money generated through political activity membership fees, candidate contributions, donations, or other party revenue has contributed to building commercial value, what legal or beneficial interest do ordinary members of the political party actually have in that value?

 

I don’t know the answers.

 

And that is precisely the point.

 

None of these questions establishes wrongdoing & commercial activity by a political party isn’t inherently improper.

 

But transparency becomes more important, not less, when the boundaries between political organisation, commercial enterprise, private company & senior party officials begin to overlap.

 

One Nation wants Australians to take it increasingly seriously as a political force.

 

With that increased political significance comes increased scrutiny.

 

And when you follow the money, I think one question is becoming increasingly reasonable to ask:

 

Where does the political party end & the commercial enterprises begin?

 


Saturday, 26 September 2026

The Trees, The Wood & The Pulp

In typical fashion, the trees & the wood have been turned into X pulp.

The Medicare research portal breach was minor.

 

But in the frenzy surrounding it, we’ve had people zooming in on whether the word “hack” is technically correct. Some are even denying the breach happened at all, treating the whole thing almost like some kind of false-flag episode.

 

Hack. Breach. Unauthorised access. Scaled the fence.

 

Pick your word.

 

It’s the typical social-media habit of becoming so hung up on a word that we lose sight of what actually matters.

 

Then we have another mob wandering off into conspiracy territory.

 

“It’s Covid all over again.”

 

“The govt is spreading fear & alarm.”

 

Seriously?

 

If the govt wanted to terrify Australians about AI, I suspect it could find something considerably more alarming to hang the strategy on than a clever little AI agent rummaging around a Medicare statistics portal.

 

Meanwhile, the bigger & very real issue is lost in the wake of all the chatter.

 

How vulnerable are the plethora of legacy systems across the Australian govt to the next generation of autonomous AI agents?

 

Businesses have been battling human hackers for years — not always successfully. Medibank, Optus & others have proven that spectacularly.

 

But AI agents potentially change the equation.

 

Human hackers are constrained by human skills, time, speed & fatigue.

 

Clever little AI agents are not constrained in quite the same way.

 

They don’t need sleep. They don’t need tea breaks. They can work at speeds humans simply cannot achieve & can keep trying different approaches in pursuit of the task they’ve been given.

 

Frankly, they sound like the ideal employee.

Although the work-from-home policy might need a bit of research. 😂

And that’s what makes this particular incident interesting.

 

The Medicare breach wasn’t catastrophic. Far from it.

 

But the agent wasn’t instructed to hack Medicare either. It was conducting research & trying to complete its task. When the conventional route didn’t provide what it wanted, it found another way.

 

Actually, come to think of it, it’s a shame more people didn’t approach their normal jobs with the same determination to get the task done. 😂

 

This time it was essentially a friendly little AI agent determined to finish its homework.

 

The next one may not be so friendly.

 

And the target may be rather more consequential than a statistics portal.

 

Most Australians touched by the Medibank, Optus & other major corporate breaches already have pieces of their personal information floating around somewhere they would rather it wasn’t.

 

But consider what we entrust to government.

 

Taxation. Medicare. Centrelink. Digital identity. Personal records.

 

That’s a different level altogether.

 

That is the wood we should be looking at.

 

But there’s another part of this discussion we shouldn’t ignore.

 

Anthony Albanese has already raised misinformation, disinformation & political polarisation while promoting his government’s latest approach to online regulation.

 

The original 2024 misinformation & disinformation bill itself did not go ahead.

 

But the policy objective didn’t disappear with it.

 

The bill died. The issue didn’t.

 

The govt has now returned with its Digital Duty of Care framework, while Albanese is again publicly talking about misinformation & disinformation.

 

And now we have AI.

 

The government has already said that the Medicare incident will help inform its approach to AI regulation.

 

Some regulation of AI is inevitable & necessary. Questions of security, responsibility, liability & accountability aren’t going to disappear simply because we would prefer government to stay out of the way.

 

But neither should Australians simply wave legislation through because the words AI safety have been stamped across the front of it.

 

That is where we need to be extremely vigilant.

 

Not because we can prove that every proposal is designed to silence criticism.

 

We can’t.

 

But because whenever governments seek greater powers over information, digital platforms, misinformation, disinformation or online speech, citizens have every right to examine exactly where those powers begin & end.

 

And political speech must remain political speech — including speech that is inconvenient, irritating, critical of government or simply wrong.

 

So instead of getting lost among the trees & producing another mountain of X pulp, we should concentrate on the GENUINE issues this incident has exposed.

 

What is the govt doing to identify, fix or replace vulnerable legacy systems?

 

What guarantees can it provide about the security of the extremely sensitive information Australians must store on government systems now?

 

How are those systems being prepared for autonomous AI agents working at a speed & scale fundamentally different from human attackers?

 

And equally importantly:

 

What exactly will the government’s emerging AI & online-safety legislation allow it to regulate?

 

Who decides what constitutes misinformation or disinformation?

 

What safeguards will protect legitimate criticism, debate & political speech?

 

And that’s where we have a responsibility as citizens.

 

Don’t wait until legislation has passed & then complain about it.

 

Read it.

 

Question it.

 

Make submissions.

 

Contact MPs & senators.

 

If provisions appear to unnecessarily impinge upon freedom of expression or political debate, make enough noise that Parliament cannot pretend nobody noticed.

 

Because the greatest significance of this little Medicare episode isn’t what the AI agent managed to access.

 

It’s what the incident has exposed.

 

A warning about ageing government technology on one side.

 

And the beginning of a much bigger argument about regulating extraordinarily powerful, innovative technology on the other.

 

Both deserve more attention than another argument on X about whether we should call it a bloody “hack.”

 

Sometimes we become so obsessed with the trees that we don’t merely miss the wood.

 

We turn the whole bloody thing into pulp.