Australia faces a rapidly changing—and worsening—defence and security outlook that is increasingly at odds with the policy assumptions that underpinned the formulation of the 2016 defence white paper. That reality demands a rethink of our defence policy and a new defence white paper early in the term of the next government. The next white paper needs to deal more directly and robustly with a rising China that’s intent on challenging US strategic primacy across the Indo-Pacific and exploiting opportunities arising from any US strategic miscalculations, such as reducing visible support for key allies.

Thankfully, US policy statements suggest that Washington isn’t simply acceding to Beijing’s desire for a new regional hegemonic role. There’s now an intensifying strategic competition between Washington and Beijing—some call it a ‘new cold war’—that will last decades, and could easily flare into direct military confrontation. The potential for China to instigate a conflict, perhaps over Taiwan or in the South China Sea, is quite real.

Far from being a distant backwater, as was the case in the Cold War, Australia, because of its geostrategic location and vital strategic relationship with Washington, has become a frontline state in this new era of major-power competition. Within this strategic reality, northern Australia is emerging as a region of key defence significance. The hosting of US forces in the north, including a US Marine Corps deployment in Darwin for training, and the enhanced air cooperation initiative have elevated the Northern Territory’s defence importance. Key facilities such as Pine Gap and Northwest Cape remain essential components of our alliance, and must be kept secure.

I’ve already argued that our traditional approach of relying on the strategic moat of the sea–air gap for defence is outdated and needs to be reviewed, and that we should switch to a strategy of ‘forward defence in depth’ (see here, here and here). Rather than hide behind a sea–air gap which, like the French Maginot Line defences of 1940, is rapidly being overtaken by advances in military technology, we must build an Australian Defence Force that can quickly respond to threats with minimal warning and exploit greater speed and longer reach.

Australia should invest in long-range power-projection capabilities that can rapidly deploy from the north deep into the Indo-Pacific to blunt an adversary’s campaign before it can threaten our northern air and maritime approaches. Most importantly, we must acquire new capabilities quickly and not emulate the future submarine program, which won’t deliver the first operational Attack-class submarine until 2035.

In adopting a new strategy of ‘forward defence in depth’, we should seek capabilities that will enable the ADF to project power responsively and at long range, but we must not ignore the rear area of northern Australia. An essential first step to secure the rear is to harden pieces of military infrastructure to make them tougher targets for threats ranging from special forces attacks to missile strikes.

In particular, we need to ensure that we can defend against emerging ballistic and cruise missile threats to Australia’s northern bases. The starting point for this is the Royal Australian Air Force’s integrated air and missile defence project, AIR 6500, which will link together sensors, platforms and shooters to create a ‘system of systems’ for detection, decision and response to air and missile threats. Phase 1 of the project will provide the battle management system and phase 2 will shape the medium-range air defence component (though details on this are vague to say the least). AIR 6500 is due for delivery in the second half of the next decade. LAND 19 phase 7B, meanwhile, will provide a short-range air defence solution for deployed forces.

In developing our integrated air and missile defence capability, greater consideration needs to be given to how long-range sea- and land-based ballistic missile defence might also play a role. It’s certainly not a panacea for the defence of the north of Australia.

Andrew Davies and Rod Lyon are sceptical of the effectiveness of either land- or sea-based ballistic missile defence options for Australia. Their scepticism is certainly justified in terms of what would be called ‘national missile defence’. Defence of critical facilities such as RAAF Tindal and Pine Gap would be a more achievable goal. They note the potential of the sea-based combination of the Aegis Baseline 9 and Standard Missile 3 against shorter-range ballistic missiles, concluding that such a capability could be incorporated into the navy’s Hobart-class destroyers. They also note that a ballistic missile defence system for Australia should be tailored to defend vital facilities rather than the whole continent.

The missile defence equation is only going to get more difficult for the defender as hypersonic weapons emerge in coming years. Any investigation of, and investment in, long-range defences needs to recognise the risk that disruptive offensive innovations may lock out our ability to maintain an effective defence.

Hardening against non-kinetic threats—including defending sites against special forces attacks, electronic attacks, cyberwarfare and the indirect effects of counterspace capabilities—also needs to be considered. The growing importance of space, cyber and the electromagnetic spectrum as warfighting domains should shape basing requirements in the north and may demand that specialised capabilities be concentrated near critical facilities.

With these threats in mind, we also have to consider dispersed forces as a part of a comprehensive solution. RAAF Tindal, for example, is a high-value target because it is so central to the RAAF’s defence of our northern air approaches. We have ‘bare bases’ at RAAF Curtin, RAAF Scherger and RAAF Learmonth, as well as RAAF Darwin, but given Chinese advances in long-range strike capabilities, particularly with hypersonic weapons, these too are vulnerable. They are likely to be prized targets, especially if they’re hosting US forces in a crisis. We have too many critical units concentrated on too few air bases that can be too easily struck from long range.

It’s time to undertake a northern basing analysis which looks at innovative ways to operate from non-traditional airfields and considers dispersal to non-traditional operating locations in a crisis. A lesson could be learned from Sweden’s use of roads to disperse vital airpower away from vulnerable bases. The US Marine Corps is using rough fields to create forward arming and refuelling points for its F-35B as part of its island-hopping expeditionary advanced base concept. The Australian Army already supports its Tiger helicopters this way, so we need to examine whether civil northern infrastructure can be better adapted to support the ADF in wartime. That analysis could include consideration of greater civil–military integration as part of a northern Australia ‘total force’ that expands the use of reserve units.

It’s well past time to end the comfortable coast of defence policy on autopilot. To paraphrase analyst Ross Babbage, it’s a coast too long.

Mention the term ‘space coast’ and the image of launch pads and gantries at NASA’s John F. Kennedy Space Center in Florida come to mind. It’s a true spaceport that not only launches rockets but also stimulates the growth of the local economy and supports the clusters of aerospace companies that are located nearby.

Australia is now moving swiftly towards establishing its own space program, under the leadership of the Australian Space Agency. The agency’s recently released space strategy increases the potential for regular launches of Australian satellites on Australian launch vehicles from Australian launch sites. It’s important to base that launch capability in Australia’s north. To understand why, let’s start with some rocket science 101.

Geographic location matters a lot in the rocket-launching world. A rocket launched from near the equator can ride on the rotation of the earth as it spins west to east and pick up kinetic energy, generating a free boost in velocity that helps to achieve orbit. Proximity to the equator is the main reason the European Space Agency launches from Kourou in French Guiana rather than from Europe.

The free boost from a spinning earth is an undeniable advantage (for those into equations, see here). It can make space access cheaper because less fuel is needed for a mission. That lowers the cost per kilogram of putting a payload into orbit and allows for larger payloads. The reduction in size and weight of small satellite and ‘cubesat’ designs is further reducing the cost of space access. The amount of savings depends on the payload and the type of orbit desired.

The Top End of Australia is a mere 12 degrees south of the equator. That makes the Northern Territory an ideal location for accessing the ‘equatorial low-earth orbit’ region of space from which rapid revisits over densely populated areas of interest can be conducted for tasks such as maritime surveillance. Northern launch sites could also support the establishment of mega-constellations of communications satellites in low-earth orbit.

This isn’t pie-in-the-sky thinking. Agreements are in place to establish a launch site run by Equatorial Launch Australia near Nhulunbuy in the NT, and the Queensland government recently released a report that recommended developing launch vehicles and investigating the possibility of establishing a launch site in the state. A proposed launch site in South Australia could easily support launches into sun-synchronous and polar orbits, which are ideal for earth observation.

There are valid defence and national security rationales for developing a sovereign space launch capability. For years, Australia has played an important role in supporting US space activities from the ground, notably through the joint facility at Pine Gap and, more recently, through the space situational awareness radar and optical telescope near Exmouth in Western Australia. Developing a sovereign space launch capability will enable Australia to do much more than simply provide the real estate and skilled personnel for ground facilities.

A sovereign space launch capability would be a logical complement to a local satellite manufacturing industry and would boost self-reliant space support for the Australian Defence Force. Current defence space projects could be undertaken with a sovereign launch in mind. These include phase 2 of defence project DEF-799, which aims to establish a sovereign space-based intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance capability by the late 2020s, and joint project 9102, which will provide the next generation of satellite communications for the ADF by 2029.

A sovereign space launch capability, operating from launch sites in the NT, northern Queensland and South Australia, would support joint ADF expeditionary forces or missions under the ‘defence of Australia’ doctrine. It would be an entirely new type of ADF capability.

It would enable Australia to burden-share in orbit with the United States to reinforce space deterrence and strengthen resilience. As space becomes increasingly contested, congested and competitive, the loss of access to it as a result of an adversary’s use of anti-satellite (ASAT) weapons would render our forces deaf, dumb and blind. The ADF would then be susceptible to tactical, operational and strategic surprise and at increased risk of sustaining casualties and, ultimately, defeat. To paraphrase Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, if we lose control of space, we lose the war and we lose it quickly.

Australia already contributes to burden-sharing with the US through ground-based space situational awareness, but we can do much more. Two approaches—augmentation and reconstitution—should be considered in shaping Australia’s future military space capability.

Augmentation would involve protecting the limited number of large, complex and expensive US satellites currently on orbit by rapidly deploying small satellites and cubesats in the build-up to a conflict to make it more difficult for an adversary to decisively attack them. Australia could contribute to the augmentation mission either by launching US-made satellites or by building and launching satellites to support US forces.

Reconstitution would entail rapidly launching small satellites and cubesats to fill any gaps left in large satellite constellations from an adversary’s use of ASATs at the outset of a military conflict. Denying the adversary the ability to deliver a decisive blow—a ‘Pearl Harbor in space’—would reduce the incentive for it to employ counterspace weapons in the first place and further strengthen space deterrence.

An Australian space launch capability could also increase our collaboration and burden-sharing with regional allies in ASEAN and with major partners such as Japan, the UK and France.

The establishment of an Australian ‘space coast’ would also stimulate the growth of the local space industry and the local economy. It would make little sense to base this industry in the south; the logistical cost of moving equipment to launch sites in the NT, for example, would wipe out any savings gained by launching close to the equator. Instead, Australia’s growing space sector should be encouraged to co-locate near the launch sites, where it could sustain a space economy centred around a northern space coast.

Establishing an Australian space coast, where Australian-built satellites are launched into orbit on Australian rockets from Australian launch sites, has the potential to facilitate the rapid growth of a high-technology sector in northern Australia.

Australia’s counterterrorism architecture is complex, embracing hard and soft power, and it’s challenging to determine where it begins and ends. It also includes initiatives that the government rightly can’t publicise.

My latest ASPI report, 18 years and counting: Australian counterterrorism, threats and responses, details the evolution of this architecture since the 9/11 terrorist attacks as it pertains to the threat of Salafi-jihadism.

Australia’s 2015 counterterrorism strategy emphasises the need for a partnership between government, the private sector and communities to counter the threat of terrorism.

The strategy rests on five key pillars. Terrorist activity must be disrupted; the appeal of extremist ideologies must be reduced through counter-narratives and programs and initiatives aimed at social cohesion; people must be discouraged from resorting to violence to express their views; global counterterrorism efforts must be supported; and the government must be able to respond to any terrorist event.

A year before the strategy was issued, the threat level was raised to ‘probable’, which means that credible intelligence indicates that individuals or groups ‘continue to possess the intent and capability to conduct a terrorist attack in Australia’. It’s unlikely that the level will change soon, especially as it is evident that al-Qaeda is making a resurgence and, despite the loss of its territory in Iraq and Syria, Islamic State is far from defeated.

When it comes to foreign policy, we’re trying to live up to our reputation as an upholder of the rules-based order and a principal advocate of multilateralism. Australia was a founding member of the Global Counterterrorism Forum, an intergovernmental platform addressing the vulnerability of people to terrorism and violent extremism. Through the forum, several best practices have been adopted in relation to violent extremism, foreign terrorist fighters, criminal justice and the rule of law.

Even though Australia’s foreign aid contribution continues to shrink, there remains a commitment to address the drivers of violent extremism at all levels. In March 2017, the then foreign minister, Julie Bishop, launched a new policy framework (Development approaches to countering violent extremism) that sought to counter and prevent violent extremism through education, civil society, governance, livelihoods, justice and the rule of law. Bishop also committed Australia to providing Iraq with humanitarian assistance to help stabilise liberated areas and to support projects to build social cohesion.

With strong input from the Australian Federal Police, Australia has played a key role in setting up the Jakarta Centre for Law Enforcement Cooperation. Among its achievements, the centre has helped develop Indonesia’s Densus 88, ‘one of the world’s best counter-terrorism units’.

AUSTRAC has also played an important role in promoting regional engagement on counterterrorism through its involvement in launching the Fintel Alliance, a public–private partnership combating money laundering and terrorism financing. Together with regional partners, AUSTRAC works to enhance regional efforts to combat the financing of terrorism, including organising, to date, four regional summits and facilitating regional risk assessment on terrorism financing.

On the domestic front, one wonders whether we have been as effective. Since 2001, more than 60 new statutes were adopted on areas such as detention, passport revocation, telecommunications and post-sentence preventative detention. Some of these measures are controversial, raising serious questions as to whether they undermine core liberal, democratic values. Professor George Williams, dean of the law faculty at the University of New South Wales, and a leading constitutional scholar, has captured the concern by provocatively claiming that successive Australian governments have launched a ‘legal assault on Australian democracy’.

One wonders whether imposing continued detention and control orders after a sentence has been served, granting a minister the power to revoke passports, and introducing an Australian values statement, among many other measures, have helped promote security. Might they, and the rhetoric around them, have politicised the debate over security, often at the expense of minorities? Dr Ibrahim Abu Mohamed, the Grand Mufti of Australia, captured the exhaustion and anger of many in the Muslim community at being repeatedly called upon to condemn acts of terrorism when he said of his faith: ‘You don’t ask to disavow medicine if some doctors exploited it, you don’t ask to disavow law if some lawyers misused it.’

Clearly, the security services have faced an enormous challenge over the past 18 years, as the terrorist threat evolved and new cases emerged. The establishment was forced to rethink its predictors, its methods and its understanding of the new threat environment. In November 2018, a few weeks after the Bourke Street incident, Victoria Police arrested three individuals whose passports had been cancelled earlier in the year, alleging that they were planning a mass-casualty attack. In 2017, the security services uncovered the Sydney Airport plot, which involved a plan to place a bomb in a meat grinder to be carried aboard a passenger jet.

What has made the job of detecting such activity so challenging in the post-caliphate era is that a large percentage of those convicted were under 21 when they committed their offences and there was no evidence that many of them had direct or formal ties to Salafi-jihadi groups.

ASIO’s 2017–18 annual report made no mention of far-right, white supremacist activity, as there was arguably no evidence of such a threat emerging. There has, however, been plenty of evidence of Salafi-jihadi activity; over 80% of the convictions for terrorism offences in the past three years involved adherents of Salafi-jihadism. ASIO’s 2016–17 report noted that there was minimal far-right activity in Australia.

ASIO Director-General Duncan Lewis told a Senate estimates hearing that, horrific as the Christchurch attacks were, the calculus had not changed because, out of seven attacks and 15 thwarted attacks, only one was allegedly perpetrated by a right-wing extremist and that case was still before the courts.

This doesn’t mean that ASIO isn’t focused on far-right, white supremacist activity, but at a time of limited resources, tough decisions must be made and currently there’s no evidence of a serious threat in Australia from the extreme right.

Australia’s counterterrorism environment is staffed by dedicated individuals, committed to protecting Australians. The past 18 years have shown us that terrorism evolves and innovates and we must too.

But safety and protection begin with the individual.

We must change our public discourse and work better at social cohesion and identify individuals at risk of being led down the violent extremist path so that with early help they can be dissuaded from making terrible mistakes.

Paul Dibb, in his recent Strategist post, writes that America’s strategic position in Asia would be fatally undermined if it didn’t go to war with China if China attacked Taiwan, and that Australia’s alliance with America would be fatally undermined if we didn’t then go to war with China too. The conclusion he draws is that, in the event of an unprovoked Chinese attack on Taiwan, America should go to war with China, and so should Australia.

I think Dibb’s premises are correct, but his conclusion is wrong. Failing to come to Taiwan’s aid would seriously weaken and perhaps destroy America’s position in Asia, and our alliance with America would be seriously weakened if not destroyed if we failed to support the US. But it doesn’t follow that either America or Australia should therefore go to war with China to defend Taiwan.

That depends on who would win the war. Such a war, like any war, would be a calculus of uncertainties, but at the very least one could say that a swift, cheap and decisive US victory over China would be very unlikely. America’s military power is very great, but China’s military power, and especially its capacity to deny its air and sea approaches to US forces, has grown sharply, and is now formidable.

China also has big advantages of location and resolve: Taiwan is closer to China than to America, and it matters more to the Chinese. And any hopes that US nuclear forces would swing the balance back America’s way run up against China’s capacity to retaliate in kind, and the risk of a nuclear exchange targeting US cities would at least have to be considered by US leaders in deciding to go to war.

These sombre facts would have to be taken into account in Washington and Canberra in any deliberations about war. They imply that the choice in both capitals would not be the simple one that Dibb suggests—a choice between going to war and preserving the US-led order in Asia or stepping back and destroying it. A long, costly and indecisive US–China war would destroy the regional order anyway, because America’s leadership in Asia wouldn’t survive a war with China.

Most probably it would lead to America’s withdrawal from Asia—just as its long, indecisive but far less costly wars in the Middle East have led it to withdraw from that region. If so, Australia’s alliance with America would wither too. So the real choice Washington would face would be to abandon its position in Asia by fighting China, or by not fighting China. Given the cost and risks of war with a nuclear power, it is easy to see which America should choose, and I think probably would choose.

Dibb’s counterargument is that America was willing to fight a nuclear war to save West Germany from the Soviets in the Cold War. That’s a compelling argument to the extent that China’s ambitions today pose as big a threat to America as the Soviets’ did in the Cold War. It was the fear that the expansion of Soviet power would threaten the survival of America itself which drove US leaders and voters to accept the risk of nuclear war to make containment work. I don’t think that China poses a similar threat today, which is why I don’t think America should fight China over Taiwan.

But do Americans believe that China poses a similar threat today? That’s actually the big question that underlies the entire future of America’s position in Asia in the face of China’s ambitions, and it deserves closer scrutiny. So far it seems not, because for all the tough talk from Vice President Mike Pence and others in recent months, no US political leader has tried to convince Americans that they should be willing to fight a nuclear war with China. Indeed, US policy as set out in the 2018 nuclear posture review doesn’t even acknowledge America’s vulnerability to Chinese nuclear forces. We’d be wise not to assume that the Americans would risk a nuclear war with China until they say they are willing to do so.

If this is wrong and America chose war, I think it’s clear that Australia would be better off staying out of it. Iraq should have taught us that it makes no sense to support an ally in a war it can’t win, and the stakes are much higher this time.

Finally, a minor point. Whether our commitments under the ANZUS treaty cover Taiwan is not quite as clear as Dibb suggests. No doubt Washington believes that it does, and clearly expects us to support the US in a conflict. To the contemporary policymaker this is what matters, which is why I agree with Dibb that failing to support America would be fatal to the alliance.

But that requirement is not evident in the text of the treaty itself, at least as interpreted by the foremost legal authority on the matter, J.G. Starke, in his book The ANZUS Treaty Alliance. He says it’s clear from the context that ‘Pacific Area’ in Article 4 doesn’t include Taiwan, because Australia didn’t want it to.

Australia’s national intelligence community (NIC) has grown and evolved significantly in recent years. But its key oversight and accountability mechanisms have remained comparatively unchanged and legislatively constrained.

By their very nature, intelligence agencies need to be secretive, and the standards of accountability and oversight they’re subject to necessarily differ from those applicable to other parts of government.

At the same time, the Australian people needs to have confidence that their intelligence agencies are acting with legality, efficacy and efficiency.

In our recent submission to the Australian government’s comprehensive review of the legal framework governing the NIC, led by former defence secretary Dennis Richardson, we considered the oversight and accountability measures required to maintain the confidence of the Australian people in the work of the NIC.

Traditionally, transparency and secrecy have been viewed as diametrically opposed. But the two imperatives can coexist in a democracy, especially one that has strong, independent and well-resourced oversight institutions.

Our submission proposes several reforms to Australia’s oversight-related legislation, including the Inspector-General of Intelligence and Security Act 1986, the Independent National Security Legislation Monitor Act 2010 and the Intelligence Services Act 2001.

The Inspector-General of Intelligence and Security (IGIS) is an independent statutory officeholder who reviews the activities of the intelligence agencies. In July 2017, the Turnbull government announced the establishment of a new home affairs portfolio and a strengthened role for the attorney-general in overseeing intelligence, security and law enforcement agencies.

As part of the restructuring, the IGIS, along with the Independent National Security Legislation Monitor (INSLM) and the Commonwealth Ombudsman, was moved from the Prime Minister and Cabinet portfolio to Attorney-General’s.

The attorney-general continues to exercise certain powers and functions under the ASIO Act, including the power to authorise warrants and special intelligence operations. Putting the IGIS under the attorney-general’s purview means that it’s no longer separate from the portfolio that’s responsible for authorising warrants. IGIS should be transferred back to PM&C, where it sat since its foundation, to help guarantee its complete independence as an oversight body.

The INSLM is responsible for reviewing and assessing the effectiveness and appropriateness of Australia’s national security and counterterrorism legislation. It is a part-time role that’s supported by a small number of permanent staff. But the resourcing of the office makes it difficult for it to keep up with the vast number of new and increasingly innovative counterterrorism laws.

Consideration should be given to making the INSLM a full-time role so that the office can fulfil its core function, especially given that there has been no significant improvement in parliamentary oversight. The government should be legislatively required to table timely responses to the INSLM’s reports. This would at least oblige it to demonstrate that it has read and taken on board the INSLM’s advice.

The Parliamentary Joint Committee on Intelligence and Security (PJCIS) is somewhat of a ‘closed shop’ to crossbench MPs and senators: the legislation refers to members of ‘recognised political parties’, effectively precluding minor parties and independents.

The committee’s oversight is limited to reviewing the administration and expenditure of the NIC, addressing matters referred to it by the responsible minister or by a resolution of parliament, and reporting its recommendations to parliament and the responsible minister. It can’t review the NIC’s intelligence-gathering and assessment priorities or its operational activities.

Nor does it have the power to initiate its own inquiries into matters relating to the activities of an NIC agency. It is the only committee of parliament that doesn’t have the power to inquire into the operations of the agencies it oversees.

By comparison, similar parliamentary committees in Australia’s Five Eyes counterparts (the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada and New Zealand) have much wider oversight of their intelligence and security services.

The UK Intelligence and Security Committee can consider operational matters when requested by the prime minister and when they don’t involve ongoing operations and it’s in the national interest.

The Canadian National Security and Intelligence Committee of Parliamentarians is authorised to review:

‘(a) the legislative, regulatory, policy, administrative and financial framework for national security and intelligence;

(b) any activity carried out by a department that relates to national security or intelligence, unless the activity is an ongoing operation and the appropriate Minister determines that the review would be injurious to national security; and

(c) any matter relating to national security or intelligence that a minister of the Crown refers to the Committee.’

Parliamentary oversight of the intelligence agencies requires strengthening of the PJCIS’s legislative powers by widening its remit to include the ability to analyse the NIC’s operations and conduct its own inquiries.

One argument that has been made against this idea is that these powers, such as the power to review operations, are covered by the IGIS Act. However, the IGIS’s primary role is to oversee the activities of the intelligence agencies; it doesn’t focus on whether they should be conducting those activities. This is a key area in which the expanded remit of the PJCIS is crucial and in which legislative changes are required.

The committee has largely been bipartisan, so the risk of political interference in agency operations from an overzealous committee is negligible. Some combination of the UK and Canadian approaches might work best in the Australian context.

Finally, the Five Eyes intelligence-sharing partnership gives Australian intelligence organisations extraordinary global reach, providing irreplaceable access to information and cutting-edge capabilities.

All of the Five Eyes allies have legislative oversight arrangements. But they differ in their frameworks. There’s no single overarching oversight body or coordinated system of checks and balances that aims to ensure the legality and propriety of Five Eyes intelligence-sharing and activities.

Given Australia’s increased sharing and use of intelligence across governments, consideration should be given to including provisions that allow the IGIS and the PJCIS to oversee some aspects of Australia’s role within Five Eyes.

We appreciate that this measure will be challenging: the arrangements aren’t a single neat program of information exchange that could be easily scrutinised. They include many agencies beyond the remit of the IGIS (in Australia’s case), and the ‘exchange’ and source/receiving country would further complicate any review process.

But in many ways, this is precisely why the proposal should be considered: robust oversight and accountability measures will maintain the confidence of the Australian people in the intrinsic value of the Five Eyes partnership.

The NIC has grown and transformed dramatically in recent years to meet the unprecedented challenges to Australia’s security. Their combined functions are more vital to our national security than ever.

The proposed reforms we’ve outlined will strengthen independent oversight and accountability and maintain the confidence of the Australian people in the work of the NIC.