Balancing secrecy and transparency: the value of being a sceptic in a post-Spycatcher world

When Peter Wright remarked: ‘That will fix the bastards’, while leaving the NSW Supreme Court witness box on 8 December 1986, he was firing a salvo in the ‘Spycatcher affair’, a political and legal controversy that is remembered as a defiant win for transparency over secrecy. But the actual lesson of Spycatcher is that not all revelations about intelligence matters should be considered uncritically.

A former senior technical adviser with British security service MI5 turned struggling Tasmanian horse breeder, Wright and co-author Paul Greengrass had written an expose of British intelligence, Spycatcher, only to have Her Majesty’s government seek the book’s banning in Australia, as in England.

The resulting trial was disastrous for Margaret Thatcher. Her cabinet secretary, Robert Armstrong, was humiliated by future Australian prime minister Malcolm Turnbull, representing the defendants. The Court found for Wright’s publishers, as would Australia’s High Court on appeal, albeit on a technicality.

Spycatcher could be sold in Australia, and eventually in England. Legal controversy (‘the shocking book of secrets Britain banned’) made it a bestseller and Wright a millionaire. Not bad given that Turnbull’s principal legal defence had been that it was a regurgitation of old news.

To this day Spycatcher remains a watchword for transparency triumphing over bloody-minded secrecy; a victory over bureaucrats being ‘economical with the truth’. According to Turnbull, ‘We struck a blow for democracy and transparency and openness. And that was a good thing’.

Battles over the release of Spycatcher-related government records continue to the present. Journalist Tim Tate’s just-published book, To catch a spy, unearths insights into the Thatcher government’s legal and political strategy, and confirmed that Armstrong committed perjury.

However, Spycatcher also serves as a reminder of the importance of scepticism and balance when evaluating claims of undue secrecy.

For there was an all-consuming reason Wright wanted the ‘bastards’ to pay: the conviction that his former boss Roger Hollis—MI5 director-general 1956-65 and contributor to ASIO’s establishment—was a Soviet mole (the ‘Fifth Man’), whose treason led to failed British counterintelligence efforts against the KGB and GRU (Soviet military intelligence). Or, according to Wright at other times, it was Hollis’ deputy Graham Mitchell who was the mole.

This was not merely a passing assertion in Spycatcher; it was the narrative throughline, principal motivation—along with filthy lucre—and the most alarming allegation made.

The allegation had been dismissed within MI5’s own ranks by the time it was raised publicly by journalist Chapman Pincher in the early 1980s; this was a majority view before Wright’s retirement in 1976. Younger staff joked about Wright being a KGB illegal sent to disrupt and confound Western counterintelligence.

Wright’s theory was undermined by anti-Soviet success during Hollis’ tenure, namely the Portland spy ring’s uncovering. But Wright’s own flexible logic was that this simply proved his point, as the Soviets would only be willing to sacrifice their operations for such a valuable penetration.

British civil servant Lord Trend, reviewing the matter independently in 1974–75, found no conclusive evidence of Hollis’ guilt. Given the impossibility of proving a negative, Trend estimated, based on the circumstantial evidence, that the possibility of Hollis being a spy was roughly 20 percent.

Some still question Hollis’ innocence. Like Wright, Pincher went to his grave convinced he was right. Tim Tate is sympathetic to Wright’s case against Hollis, albeit his book offers little new information on the Hollis question. Australian intelligence commentator Paul Monk has made his own detailed case for Hollis being ELLI, the GRU source alleged to be inside British intelligence during World War II. Some studies are ambiguous, while others assess the case for Hollis as ELLI to be weak.

Today MI5 dismisses the notion of Hollis’ guilt outright. Christopher Andrew’s official history was scathing: ‘no credible evidence since there was none to find’, ‘threadbare’, ‘a form of paranoia’. Internal MI5 reviews (including post-Spycatcher) were damning of Wright, accusing him of fabrication and distortion. KGB defector Oleg Gordievsky claims the Soviets were so confused by the public allegations that they assumed it was some kind of inscrutable double-bluff. No evidence of Hollis’ guilt emerged from the brief post-Soviet archival openings, or Vasili Mitrokhin’s haul from the KGB. The actual ‘Fifth Man’—John Cairncross—had been identified and confessed in 1964. Excepting Wright’s confidant James J. Angleton, the CIA’s leadership didn’t believe Hollis was a mole and a 1993 CIA study of related literature (including Spycatcher) labelled the charges against Hollis and Mitchell as ‘false’.

Thus, Spycatcher presents an uneasy lesson. For all Wright was correct about, especially that a significant number of Britain’s elite committed treason during the 1930s and 1940s without consequence, he was obsessively wrong in his central thesis. But his whistleblowing spread that thesis, propelled by Thatcher’s quixotic legal strategy (and duplicitous political strategy) and the media’s credulity.

Nonetheless, Spycatcher had positive, if inadvertent, outcomes.

Ironically, Thatcher had herself raised public expectations of transparency about the intelligence services. She made a parliamentary statement in 1979 confirming Anthony Blunt’s (‘the Fourth Man’) confessed Soviet spying. Although the terms in which she did so helped rouse Wright from retirement.

Moreover, Armstrong had been compelled to insist openly that he could neither confirm nor deny that Britain’s foreign intelligence service MI6 actually existed. However, he could acknowledge that it existed between 1956 and 1968 when headed by Dick White. The derision with which this insistence was met would be a contributing factor to the acknowledgement of MI6 through the Intelligence Services Act in 1994, and a Security Service Act for MI5 in 1989.

Spycatcher prompted introduction of an ombudsman function within Britain’s intelligence services, as well as processes for dealing with intelligence officers’ memoirs.

There has also been broader recognition, including in Australia, that secrecy remains a fundamental enabler of national security—if justified and justifiable. And that purposeful transparency, such as public statements and official histories, can actually serve the national security mission.

Spycatcher doesn’t repudiate the case for appropriate disclosure and transparency in intelligence and security. But we should all be discerning, even sceptical, when secrecy is assailed in the public square. This includes reflection on the wide-ranging oversight, transparency and disclosure mechanisms actually in place in Australia.

How Prabowo will likely manage Indonesia’s defence and foreign policy

In early October, Indonesian defence minister Prabowo Subianto will be inaugurated as the country’s 8th president. Unlike outgoing president Joko Widodo (Jokowi), whose administration was primarily focused on domestic development, Prabowo is keen to bolster Indonesia’s military capabilities and geopolitical footprint. He is expected to be an ‘orthodox innovator’, seeking to make gradual adjustments while deepening and expanding partnerships.

One of Prabowo’s key priorities will be bolstering Indonesia’s military strength. In recent months, he has argued that a country’s prosperity is closely linked to its security, and Indonesia needs a strong and capable military to protect its interests. Over the past decade, Indonesia has consistently underfunded its defence sector, with spending stuck below 1 percent of GDP. The majority of Indonesia’s defence budget is consumed by operational costs, with only about 25 percent earmarked for capital expenditures, such as modernising military equipment.

Prabowo plans to significantly increase defence spending. The proposed state budget for 2025 reflects this commitment, with defence spending slated to rise by 22 percent, from 135 trillion rupiah (AUD$13 billion) in 2024 to 165.2 trillion rupiah (AUD$16 billion). This increase is in line with Prabowo’s campaign promise to gradually elevate Indonesia’s defence budget to 1.5 percent of GDP by 2029, effectively doubling current expenditure levels. The increased budget is expected to be directed towards enhancing naval and aerial capabilities, such as the recent deal with Italian shipbuilder Fincantieri for the procurement of two offshore patrol vessels. This decision underscores growing concern from Indonesia’s defence establishment about surface and sub-surface maritime threats.

In addition to strengthening the military, Prabowo is expected to consolidate presidential control over defence and foreign policy. During Jokowi’s administration, decision-making in these areas lacked a ‘centralised hub’, resulting in fragmented policy execution and competition between ministries and agencies. For example, Indonesia’s economic ties with China was largely managed by Luhut Pandjaitan, the coordinating minister for maritime affairs and investment, rather than the foreign ministry. This decentralised management style created inconsistencies in policy direction.

Prabowo is likely to reverse this trend by taking direct control of defence and foreign policy decisions, much like former president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, who included key foreign policy advisers, Dino Pati Djalal and Hasan Wirajuda, in the presidential palace. Prabowo is expected to rely heavily on a close circle of trusted advisers and loyalists, many of whom have personal or familial ties to him. This approach is already evident in the appointment of his nephew Thomas Djiwandono as deputy minister for finance—a move which was part of Prabowo’s strategy to place individuals with whom he shares a deep rapport in key positions. By concentrating decision-making authority in the hands of trusted allies within the Istana and in the defence and foreign ministers, Prabowo aims to ensure coherence and consistency in the administration’s defence and foreign policies.

Despite Prabowo’s more hands-on approach, Indonesia is expected to remain consistent in its foreign policy orientation. Prabowo’s recent visits to countries such as Japan, China, France, Turkey, Australia and Russia may have raised speculation about a potential shift in foreign policy orientation, but there is likely to be more continuity than change. Three core imperatives have long guided Indonesia’s foreign policy: defending territorial sovereignty, maintaining strategic ambiguity and fostering relationships with multiple powers to expand diplomatic options.

Under Jokowi, Indonesia’s foreign policy was largely shaped by economic considerations. His administration sought to diversify economic partnerships, strengthening ties with China, South Korea and the UAE while also engaging with the United States on initiatives like the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework. Prabowo’s visits, on the other hand, reflect a shift towards strengthening defence partnerships, especially with countries such as France and Turkey. As defence minister, he procured French Rafale fighter jets and Turkish Anka drones, simultaneously strengthening and deepening defence partnerships in the process.

While Prabowo’s foreign policy will likely be more active and outward-looking, Indonesia will continue to navigate its relationships with major powers while avoiding alignment with any single bloc. This ensures that Indonesia maintains flexibility in an increasingly multipolar world. In the absence of major regional upheaval, Indonesia’s foreign policy is expected to follow a steady course, emphasising pragmatic partnerships and gradual adjustments.

Prabowo Subianto’s presidency will mark a period of enhanced focus on military modernisation, stronger presidential control over defence and foreign policy, and a more active interpretation of Indonesia’s traditional foreign policy approach.

This approach will offer Australia an opportunity to strengthen defence cooperation and highlight common interests in preserving a stable regional environment through direct engagement with the new president.  Indonesia’s more multipolar orientation and ambivalence toward the US-China rivalry could generate friction in the bilateral relationship, but there is incentive on both sides to downplay differences and work together to advance mutual interests. Australia can play a constructive and valued role in this context by keeping an eye on how Prabowo’s evolving views on foreign policy are put into practice and what that will mean for the region.

Australia needs a year-round runway on Antarctica

Australia requires persistent access to Antarctica and needs to reconsider its 2021 decision to abandon plans for a year-round runway near Davis Station. 

Unimpeded access to Antarctica is necessary as to solidify Australia’s status as a major stakeholder. In doing so, it will help deter the malign actions of China and Russia on the continent. These countries, who are already investing in dual-use facilities, risk becoming a threat to Australia’s southern flank for centuries to come. 

Often seen as a frozen wilderness dedicated to peace and science, Antarctica is emerging as a geopolitical hotspot. China and Russia have been increasing their presence on the continent, nominally for scientific research purposes. Both have opened new state-of-the-art research stations this year. These activities, while ostensibly peaceful, have dual-use potential, with stations potentially hosting future military applications. Such manoeuvring within the 1959 Antarctic Treaty System (ATS) framework highlights the need for Australia to reassess its previous decision to abandon plans for a year-round runway. 

Australia’s current Antarctic strategy is heavily focused on science and environmental conservation, aligned with ATS principles. The treaty currently prohibits resource exploitation via the 1991 Madrid Protocol. Yet it is known that the area is rich in natural resources, particularly coal, copper, gold and iron. From 2048, however, the treaty’s stakeholders can review the restrictions and begin mining if so agreed. 

Although Australia does not plan to extract resources from Antarctica in the future, other actors may consider the temptation too great to resist. Future technological advancements in resource exploitation and the effects of climate change will likely increase Antarctica’s value and ease of access. Should these actors attempt to move in on Australian treaty land, a broader approach than what currently defines relations in the Antarctic will be necessary. 

Currently, Australia’s access to Antarctica remains reliant on traversing the Southern Ocean. With habitats largely located in East Antarctica, it can take up to a week to get there from Australia as the region has no year-round runway facility. This hampers our existing Antarctic operations and emergency evacuation capabilities. If tensions rise in the future, this will become a greater problem over time. 

Prior to 2021, Australia was planning to build a year-round runway near Davis Station, Australia’s research base, but the proposal was abandoned. The Morrison government cited environmental and cost pressures as the reason for doing so. The proposed runway was 2700m long and would be built on a region of rock that sees little-to-no ice coverage, making it more reliable and accessible than other places on the continent. 

The present benefits of this runway would be that year-round aviation access would provide the Australian Antarctic Division with more flexibility to operate across the continent. Scientists and others would no longer require ships to get to Antarctica. A research trip via air would take only eight hours, saving time and resources. Most especially, the vital evacuation of expeditioners can occur in quick order. By providing a permanent logistical link between Antarctica and mainland Australia, the project would radically reduce operating costs. It would also allow Australia’s icebreaker capability can be freed up for more important work, with RSV Nuyina no longer the sole asset tasked with science, resupply and inspection missions. 

Maintaining Australia’s leadership in Antarctic scientific and environmental efforts is essential. Canberra must adopt a forward-leaning strategy, investing in infrastructure and capabilities to keep up with rising competition. Together with the runway, Australia must improve communications infrastructure and further enhance land-based travel across Antarctica. This would open the aperture for Australia to lead more facility inspections, resulting in greater transparency and allowing us to shine a light on the malign actions of others. 

Engagements elsewhere consistently underscore the fact that maintaining the status quo through Cold War-era agreements is no longer something to take for granted. The cost of inaction might far outweigh the expense of strategic investments today. By guaranteeing Antarctic access via the all-weather runway, it will enable Australia to lead the complexities of Antarctic geopolitics effectively, securing its stake in this critical region for generations to come. 

A missed opportunity? The Aviation White Paper and northern Australia’s regional aviation challenges

The Australian government’s Aviation White Paper—Towards 2050 outlines a vision for the future of civil aviation. While the White Paper represents a significant step forward, particularly in terms of decarbonising the aviation sector and enhancing consumer protections, it falls short in addressing the critical needs of regional Australia, particularly northern Australia.

With its vast distances and dispersed population, northern Australia relies on aviation in a way that urban Australia does not. For many remote and rural communities, aviation is the only means of accessing essential services such as healthcare, education and employment. It is a crucial enabler of economic activity, linking remote regions to the broader national economy.

While the White Paper acknowledges the significance of regional aviation and its role in supporting closing the gap for Australia’s First Nations populations, it does not propose sufficient targeted measures to support and sustain these vital services. The lack of immediate, actionable measures leaves regional Australia in a prolonged state of uncertainty, waiting for an outcome that should have been prioritised from the outset.

The viability of regional airline services has been a persistent challenge in northern Australia. High operational and compliance costs, low passenger volumes and the geographic remoteness of many communities create a complex and often unsustainable operating environment for regional carriers. These elements have caused the collapse of more than 20 regional airlines in Australia since deregulation of the industry in the 1990s. Moreover, the adverse influence of dominant market operators and increasingly stringent regulatory requirements not designed for remote operations further exacerbate the challenges. They all must first be understood and addressed before any sustainable policy settings can be established.

The recent voluntary administration of Rex Airlines, a major provider of regional air services in northern Australia, underscores these issues. Rex’s struggles, albeit exacerbated by an ambitious but ill-fated expansion into inter-city routes, have put the essential services it provides at risk. With few other operators remaining that can fill the gap left should Rex ultimately fail, the current situation is parlous. The White Paper’s response to Rex’s situation is limited and requires a braver dive into the inner workings of this broken industry than the document sets out.

Recommendations such as extending support measures like the Remote Airstrip Upgrade Program (RAU) and reviewing regional airfares through the Productivity Commission are to be welcomed. However, these actions are more reactive than proactive, suggesting the government is limited in its thinking.

The strategic importance of northern Australia has been clearly articulated in the Defence Strategic Review. A strong and resilient regional aviation industry is critical to supporting a Whole-of-Government approach to investment in northern Australia. Achieving this will require financial support through tailored subsidies and incentives for airlines servicing remote and regional areas. This will ensure these services remain viable in the long term. Furthermore, continued investment in regional airports and airstrips is also necessary to improve safety, accessibility and resilience against climate change. Finally, infrastructure upgrades that accommodate new aviation technologies, such as electric aircraft and hydrogen refuelling stations, should be prioritised to align with the transition to net zero emissions.

Northern Australia is well-positioned to become a significant player in the Sustainable Aviation Fuel (SAF) industry. The region’s vast agricultural resources provide a strong foundation for producing the biomass feedstocks required for SAF, such as tallow, canola oil and other agricultural residues. These resources are crucial for developing a sustainable and locally-sourced supply chain for SAF production. Doing this will reduce reliance on imported fuels and contribute to energy security.

Importantly, northern Australia’s strategic location offers advantages for both domestic and international distribution of SAF, particularly to markets in the Asia-Pacific region, where demand for low-carbon aviation fuels is expected to grow significantly. The region’s proximity to key export markets positions it as an ideal hub for SAF production, especially as global airlines and governments increasingly commit to reducing aviation emissions.

Realising this potential requires significant investments in infrastructure, research and development, and the right policy environment. The region will need dedicated SAF production facilities, blending infrastructure and logistics networks tailored to its unique conditions. Additionally, targeted government support, including financial incentives and regulatory frameworks, will be essential to attract investment and ensure the success of SAF initiatives, such as that of Jet Zero’s Project Ulysses in Townsville.

Policy innovation is also required to explore new models of regional air service delivery. Public-private partnerships or community-owned airlines will ensure that essential air links are maintained. To make this sustainable, certain operational standards will need to be relaxed that may be disproportionately burdensome for small regional carriers and remote and rural airports.

While the Aviation White Paper is a positive step, it currently lacks the specific regional focus necessary to fully leverage northern Australia’s potential. Expanding the policy framework to include tailored support for the region is crucial for maximising its contribution to the nation.

All the petshop galahs are asking: where’s the Independent Intelligence Review?

We are coming up to the first anniversary of Prime Minister Albanese announcing an Independent Intelligence Review and we are yet to know the results of that review.

On 22 September 2023, he said that:

This Independent Review will make sure that our intelligence agencies are best positioned to serve the Australian national interest, respond to future capability and workforce challenges, and continue to protect our security, prosperity and values.

A fine sentiment, to be sure, but where’s the public report? The review, completed by Heather Smith and Richard Maude, has not been released. Nor has the government’s response to their recommendations. We know it was received ahead of the 30 June 2024 schedule, as confirmed to the media last month, yet there has been nothing but silence since.

Sure, this is not an automatic process. Government needs to consider the totality of the classified report and come to a position on the reviewers’ recommendations—at least in principle. While also, in consultation with agencies, agreeing to a suitably unclassified report version for public release. But the previous review, authored by Michael l’Estrange and Steve Merchant, was announced in November 2016 and released nine months later.

Furthermore, this review was always going to be a challenging task with many of the ‘go-to’ sweeping recommendations made by past reviews no longer on the table. For example, there’s already been historic recent investments in the Australian Signals Directorate (ASD), Australian Secret Intelligence Service (ASIS) and the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation (ASIO).

Nor is there much appetite for big-picture structural moves given the changes of 2017–18, which created a host of new elements. Namely, the 10-agency National Intelligence Community itself, the Office of National Intelligence out of the Office of National Assessments and an independent ASD within the Defence portfolio, in addition to separate establishments of the Defence Intelligence Group and the Department of Home Affairs.

In these circumstances Smith and Maude’s recommendations can be expected to be more subtle and incremental. The likely smaller canvas lends itself to a lessened imperative for government action and response. But this would be a misjudgement given we are in a period of war, conflict and tension around the world, all supercharged by technological revolution.

Australia’s national intelligence capability is central to addressing our deteriorating strategic circumstances and there are significant developments buffeting the intelligence business. From quantum computing to hybrid warfare, the open-source revolution/evolution to social dislocation, and so on. The world changed significantly between the last review and this one.

In the last two months alone we’ve seen the terrorist alert level raised to probable, new foreign espionage arrests, allegations about foreign interference in Australia, announcement of a top-secret cloud computing initiative, change in ASD’s leadership and ASIO re-appointed as a permanent attendee at the National Security Committee of Cabinet after its unexplained removal prior to the review’s announcement. The pace of global change and its impact on Australia makes it important the review is released as soon as possible, and that Australians learn the government’s position and intentions.

Strategy documents and reviews are always at risk of being overtaken by significant, or a series of, events. But that’s usually after publication and during implementation. Prolonged delay here risks having the review out-of-date even before it is released. We’ve already seen not insignificant changes begin to occur within the NIC (absent an apparent connection to the review and its strategic roadmap), notably ASIO’s move back to the Attorney-General’s portfolio. Ad hoc changes threaten to strain the coherence of the vision that will have been laid out by the reviewers months ago, which have informed their recommendations.

The NIC needs a clear roadmap for the rest of the decade, to guide decision-making at the agency and community level. To leave the review on the shelf, either by deprioritising it or by declaring it too difficult, introduces unnecessary risks. While not impossible, the uncertainty of a review hanging over the NIC agencies makes proper long-term planning more difficult, at the very least.

Yes, one could imagine that ministers and officials are beavering away on the classified report’s implementation right now behind closed doors. I hope this is true, even if not otherwise apparent. Regardless, the public report should not be treated as an afterthought.

The public report will itself be a critical enabler of intelligence reform and transformation, given the reliance on the public for the NIC’s workforce recruitment and technology and industry partnerships, and through social licence. The latter becomes particularly important when addressing some of the thorny issues that we would expect to be in the report: new developments like AI, revamping the policy-intelligence interface and the use of intelligence to empower government decision-making more broadly, along with balancing strategic priorities internationally with persistent domestic threats must be dealt with promptly.

A public report is also central to holding government accountable for the implementation of recommendations. As I’ve pointed out separately, a full accounting for such implementation was not undertaken post-2017. It should be remedied this time around.

Additionally, an unclassified version of what is otherwise a necessarily very sensitive and restricted top-secret document is the best way of engaging not just with the public but with all the NIC’s staff, and officials across the broader bureaucracy. The implications of the review and its recommendations will apply much more broadly than just to a narrow coterie of NIC agency leaderships.

A checkup is always preferable to a postmortem. Now in its third iteration, Australia’s system of proactive independent intelligence reviews is invaluable and shouldn’t be undermined by avoidable delay. The Albanese government did well by instituting this latest review last year, but the job isn’t finished until the report and recommendations are made public. Then the hard work of implementation and accountability begins.

AUKUS and the real meaning of strategic sovereignty

In Australia, unlike Britain or the United States, AUKUS is subjected to a relentless barrage of criticism from various quarters. This is more than a fringe campaign.

Prominent critics include a former prime minister from each of the two major parties, Paul Keating and Malcolm Turnbull. The national broadcaster, the ABC, is enthusiastically providing a stage for the chorus of disapproval helping to mainstream these views.

This is despite the fact that AUKUS is now three years old, has delivered on many of its early benchmarks, and enjoys strong bipartisan support.

One line of criticism is that the agreement is governed by excessive secrecy. The need to hold AUKUS’s operational details close is justifiable. Yet by failing to lay out the strategic case for AUKUS more clearly and to counter various anti-AUKUS narratives actively, the government has not helped itself. Once a void in understanding opens up in today’s contested information era, it quickly becomes an echo chamber for misinformation and disinformation. Operational secrecy is no excuse for bad strategic communications.

The most stinging criticism is that AUKUS undermines Australia’s sovereignty. This is a unifying theme between Keating and Turnbull. Though they argue from different standpoints, their political seniority has lent the sovereignty argument extra weight in the debate.

Turnbull has cast doubt on Washington’s willingness to sell Virginia-class submarines to Australia, as AUKUS mandates, because he believes the US Navy and Congress will not agree to release such prized assets. He has expressed further reservations about Australia’s dependence on US proprietary technology, arguing that AUKUS binds Australia’s hands compared with the jettisoned French-built submarine design, which he approved as prime minister in 2016.

Keating’s more polemical reaction to AUKUS reflects his trenchant opposition to anything that integrates Australia further into a US strategy, as he sees it, of containing China. But they are aligned in their judgement that AUKUS undercuts Australia’s sovereignty as a strategic actor, and their hostility towards hosting US and British submarines in Western Australia later this decade.

This sovereignty-based framing of Australia’s alliance with the US is an embedded feature of Australia’s strategic debate—more so than for other US allies. Expanding the footprint of US military forces excites unusually visceral reactions in Australia. This is odd given that Washington’s other allies in the Indo-Pacific and Europe routinely host far larger numbers of US forces, yet at the same time Australia styles itself as America’s most loyal ally.

The basic reason Canberra has agreed to host US submarines and other strike assets is because Australia lacks sufficient combat power to defend its territory and vital interests autonomously, in a deteriorating balance of power. It is not, as the critics assert, because Australia has overinvested in AUKUS and needlessly yielded sovereignty, but because for decades Labor and Coalition governments have chronically underinvested in the Australian Defence Force’s combat capabilities. The failure to expedite a replacement to the Collins submarine fleet with sufficient vigour, including under the lapsed French deal, is the biggest failure of all.

AUKUS is a high-stakes effort to close that submarine capability gap, under ‘Pillar I’, and to develop an augmenting and complementary suite of advanced technologies, collectively under ‘Pillar II’. The AUKUS partners have further identified critical innovation and information-sharing enablers of such collaboration, requiring legislative, policy and process changes to be synchronised. Like any large-scale defence initiative, there are risks and opportunity costs attached. But the notion that Australia has traded away its sovereignty for a pathway to superior military capability is fundamentally misguided.

Just as Australia’s alliance with the United States is a sovereign, largely uncontroversial choice, so AUKUS is partly a bet on that alliance—and on the United Kingdom as a mutually trusted third party—to generate economies of investment and effort. New capabilities delivered under AUKUS, along with parallel efforts to improve the reach and lethality of the ADF, will help to restore and maintain a favourable balance of power. Though the government insists that AUKUS is not directed at any country, China’s rapid military and technological advances, magnified by its threatening behaviour, are the main benchmark.

For all the focus on submarines and exotic technologies, AUKUS has a foundational, less quantifiable value than just military capability outputs. The mechanisms, modalities and habits of co-operation that AUKUS builds among the three nations and within their own industrial and technology ecosystems are breaking through persistent, partly cultural barriers.

The biggest obstacle to a collective effort among like-minded partners and allies is inertia within the US defence-industrial complex and its Cold War-era framework of legislative and regulatory oversight. If AUKUS can overcome America’s own sovereignty-based qualms to unlock technology sharing and co-development, the spillover benefits for Australia will be substantial.

Indeed, the recent move to waive US licensing requirements for many—though not all—key defence technologies and services now in effect marks a major milestone on the road to AUKUS’s implementation. This highlights the initiative’s catalytic value in forcing closer and long overdue technological and industrial integration amongst the US and its two closest allies.

The tripartite effort required to realise AUKUS will continue to demand difficult trade-offs for all three partners. But AUKUS is emphatically not a threat to their individual sovereignty. It is rather a conscious, triple-bonded exercise of their sovereignty in pursuit of strategic outcomes greater than the sum of their parts, undergirded by persistent shared principles that will transcend the vicissitudes of politics.

AUKUS needs seamless data sharing. Here’s how to get it

AUKUS won’t work without seamless information sharing and data exchange between the partner nations and their private sectors.

And getting that right will demand the establishment of a common federated cloud-based platform that leverages artificial intelligence (AI), plus reforms to procurement processes within Defence to better harness private-sector innovation, and a cultural shift in Defence towards rapid and flexible technology adoption.

Together, those moves will strengthen Australia’s strategic capabilities and its partnership with Britain and the US.

In today’s strategic environment, the balance of power is shifting to those who can harness technology to swiftly interpret and act on data. Australia’s legacy Defence computing infrastructure, operating multiple information system silos, is inadequate for the demands of modern technology-driven warfare. AI, with its broad applications—from planning and logistics to enhancing command and control systems and managing uncrewed vehicles—offers immense potential to revolutionise data processing and decision-making. While AI can be deployed in traditional computing environments, its true potential is best unlocked when it’s supported by powerful, scalable IT systems that can handle vast amounts of data efficiently.

Recognising these issues, Defence is advancing a multivendor cloud solution at the Secret classification level, aimed at enhancing agility and networked operations. Although AI doesn’t strictly require cloud infrastructure, integrating it within a cloud-based platform makes it much easier to manage and extract insights from the large volumes of data generated by modern sensors, ensuring that Defence remains agile and capable in a rapidly evolving threat landscape.

However, the progress made by Defence in Australia, as well as by the US and Britain in their similar migrations to classified cloud environments, falls short of what is required for AUKUS. While these initiatives will strengthen domestic information sharing, they won’t address the need for a common, secure platform that facilitates collaboration among all three partners and their defence industrial bases—the key missing piece in the structural scaffolding for AUKUS.

Establishing a federated classified cloud-based platform interconnecting all three nations could revolutionise information sharing and some aspects of digital resourcing among them. The platform would enable the AUKUS partners to share classified datasets, share workloads across each other’s clouds, provide geographical redundancy and enhance their technical edge by enabling the joint development of AI models, for instance.

Enabling appropriate industry access to that common platform could be a catalyst for collaborative innovation. Industry across the AUKUS nations could develop, acquire and deploy capabilities together faster and create new opportunities for economic growth and jobs. Such a collaboration space could lead to the development of organic industry partnerships and supply chains without direct Defence engagement, which would be enormously beneficial to Defence. For industry participants, achieving a certain level of cyber maturity would be necessary, and Defence could potentially fund the required training. The collaboration space would also need to be designed to properly protect intellectual property and commercial interests to be successful.

To fully leverage the potential of this common platform, however, Australia must reform its defence procurement process and better engage small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs). The current system, built on processes and requirements of a previous era, is biased towards primes and large contractors, stifling SMEs’ participation, despite their critical role in developing cutting-edge technology.

Initiatives such as CASG 2.0 and the Advanced Strategic Capabilities Accelerator are steps in the right direction, but they are insufficient on their own. This will be particularly important if the technology development envisioned within AUKUS Pillar 2 is to succeed. Work stream 8 of Pillar 2 is information sharing, highlighting the importance of overcoming the cultural and technology issues discussed here.

The Australian government must create an ecosystem so that SMEs can thrive in the presence of major defence capability providers, and investors can be engaged to support their work, by reforming Defence systems, processes and policies. This approach would assist Australia’s industry and innovators to scale further and move faster to capitalise on the much larger British and US markets.

Ultimately, the true challenge lies in fostering a fundamental cultural change. The transition to the cloud should not be seen as an IT upgrade but as a comprehensive digital transformation with a focus on people.

Training is required for the whole workforce. Leadership must grasp the strategic value of cloud technologies and align that to mission objectives to set the vision and drive cultural change; and business units will need to develop a clear understanding of their requirements and engage closely with capability providers to align them with the best technical solution, which might or might not be cloud based. Additionally, business processes must be updated to realise the speed and efficiency benefits inherent in cloud technologies and AI.

Similarly, the current procurement process, marked by long decision cycles, small grants and limited contract arrangements, currently hinders SME engagement. While Defence must uphold longstanding core principles of procurement—including due diligence, value for money and fairness—it must also evolve into a more agile and risk-tolerant bureaucracy. This necessary cultural shift requires a strong understanding of industry, particularly SME business models and incentives, alongside a commitment to change longstanding behaviours within government procurement agencies.

AUKUS is a long-term partnership marked by incremental progress. Establishing advanced information-sharing platforms, improving procurement processes and systems and engaging in cultural change should be recognised as significant achievements and important progress, alongside advances in missiles and drones.

The strategic logic of Home Affairs

There is a common idea that is contained in many of the written constitutions that derive from British constitutional theory and practice. That is, laws and their administration are concerned with the ‘peace, order, and good government’ of the nation.

This constitutional tradition stemming from Britain was less concerned with ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’—the guiding star of the American revolutionaries—or ‘liberty, equality, and fraternity’, that of the French revolutionaries. Rather, the British tradition emphasised civil peace and the orderly conduct of government.

The threat of internal disunion was well known to the Australian constitutional framers of the 1890s, who were acutely aware of the bloodbaths of the English Civil War of the 17th century, the American and French revolutions, the revolutionary uprisings of 1848, and the American Civil War, as well as many other, lesser civil wars and violent uprisings. It made sense, therefore, that in the Australian Constitution, sections 51 and 52 deal with the Parliament’s power to make laws for the ‘peace, order, and good government of the Commonwealth’—with the phrase intended to express that the foremost function of power was to create and sustain an orderly ‘body politic’, free of internal disunion and civil conflict.

It was appropriate for the time. But modern democratic societies today are relatively peaceful and cohesive, even as they are being riven by identity-based factionalism and, on occasion, by ideological or religious extremism, and even violence. Class conflict has largely disappeared. Wealth is more evenly spread. Social divisions, whether of race, religion, identity or gender, have not generated violent mass movements, and are unlikely to do so, at least on the scale of those earlier violent or revolutionary periods.

We therefore need to modernise the concept of ‘peace, order and good government’ to reflect the principal need to safeguard Australia’s sovereignty so that it maintains internal peace while also protecting our economic prosperity, our territory and borders, our resources and our democratic and electoral integrity—all of which face new threats from the impact of external forces.

As societies and economies have become more complex and interconnected, new vulnerabilities have emerged. For instance, take ‘grey zone’ conflict, which is conducted by external adversaries that operate in the ambiguous space between peace and war. Under the term grey zone conflict is to be found subversion, foreign interference, espionage, propaganda, disinformation, sabotage, and even assassinations. Increasingly, grey zone techniques are also being used to undermine confidence in the integrity of electoral processes, as well as trust in democratic institutions and the very functioning of government.

These are old techniques. However, the openness of democratic societies, globalisation, and new technologies are creating a previously unimaginable global platform of opportunities for grey zone adversaries, who increasingly have the means to engender and exacerbate social and political differences. They are adept at amplifying the destabilising effects of social media and misinformation, and exploiting modern identity-based factionalism.

The aim of grey zone conflict is to undermine sovereignty and national self-confidence, as a prelude to the attainment of larger strategic goals such as territorial conquest, forcible resource acquisition, diplomatic subordination, or the neutralisation of the targeted nation as a potential military adversary—for instance, by having it renounce a long-standing military alliance.

Modern democracies face other externally-based threats. Cyber attacks can be mounted with the intention of disrupting or even destroying critical economic and social functions. Globally available content can be manipulated for the purposes of promoting state-sponsored disinformation, viral misinformation, or both. Globally stored and poorly secured data can be accessed and exfiltrated for criminal or hostile state ends.

Territorial integrity can be challenged at scale by global people-smuggling networks, or through the exploitation of vulnerabilities in visa and customs processes, such that public confidence in immigration is undermined. Maritime resources can be exploited illegally by way of clandestine incursions into the maritime zones of those societies that have coastlines. Long and complex supply chains, and global shipping, can be disrupted, or criminally penetrated, or both. Ubiquitous and accessible air travel can be exploited by criminal smugglers, or can spread global pandemics before health authorities can contain their outbreak. Terrorist groups can mount significant attacks from ungoverned safe havens, or can radicalise citizens or residents within a nation through online means. Transnational serious and organised criminal networks can penetrate borders, wreak social and economic havoc, and endanger public safety and the revenue base.

At the extreme end of the spectrum, nothing would be more detrimental to the ‘peace, order, and good government’ of a nation than the storm of war, especially nuclear war, or the impact of a cataclysmic event that had a society-damaging, existential character—such as a massive cyber-attack, a natural event of unparalleled destructiveness, or a severe biological incident, especially in the case of a deliberate bio-attack for which there was no readily available response.

In these circumstances, ‘peace and order’ would become problematic, and the continuity of government, and of critical social and economic functions, might even be at risk. Hence the need to modernise the old concept of ‘peace, order, and good government’, in response to these developments. Today, the concept should be thought of as the capacity of the nation to secure itself against the complex and disruptive forces that bear on its sovereignty, and its social and economic functioning. Before it does anything else, a modern nation has to be able to protect and exercise its sovereignty, secure its social and economic functioning, control its territory, protect its resources, maintain its internal peace, and ensure that ‘good government’ can occur—through unfettered elections, and ministers and parliamentarians being able to effectively carry out their duties.

There is a concept in the Migration Act 1958 that speaks to this new sense of an old idea. In the Act, section 116(1)(e) refers to the ‘good order of the Australian community’. In Australian case law, especially in the Tien case (1998), ‘good order’ is associated with the maintenance of the ‘values, balance, and equilibrium of Australian society’. This case law specifically relates to the power of the immigration minister to deny entry to, or to remove, someone who might disrupt the ‘equilibrium of Australian society’.

If it is accepted that Australia as a nation has a right to control its territory, by restricting or otherwise controlling entry to its territory, in the interest of maintaining the nation’s equilibrium, then it follows that the idea of good order extends more generally to encompass other facets of maintaining the nation’s equilibrium. Why would such an idea be limited to immigration entry and removal, and not be applicable to other facets of sovereignty?

Given the profound significance of these issues, it makes sense to have a department of state that is focused on ‘peace, order, and good government’, in the same way that other departments are focused on the economy; external affairs; military defence; or the rule of law, the administration of justice, and the integrity of government and public administration.

Of course, since 2017, with the re-establishment of the Department of Home Affairs by the Turnbull Government, there has been in place the nucleus of such a department—although it is, in its current form, devoid of some critical functions. Having such a department would ensure that there was clear ministerial accountability for the ‘peace, order, and good government’ function. The department would be charged with scanning relevant threats, assessing risks, developing strategies and plans, and generally ensuring unity of effort, while its associated statutory agencies would act independently to the same ends, within their lawful remits.

Such a department would still have to work in close cooperation with other departments, such as the Treasury on foreign investment screening, Health on pandemic response, and Defence on civil defence, which would need to be closely integrated with military planning.

Careful judgement would need to be exercised in relation to where to draw the boundaries of the department’s responsibilities under the Administrative Arrangements Order—the document signed by the Governor General setting out the responsibilities of portfolios and ministers. The guiding principle would be to aggregate effort where this made sense. A useful template would be the aggregation of functions under the single legal construct of the ‘security of critical infrastructure’, whereby ‘sectoral’ departments are closely engaged—for instance, the Treasury for banking and financial services, and Communications for telecommunications—but it is Home Affairs that ensures there is unity of effort and an aggregated focus on securing the nation’s critical infrastructure.

It would make sense to bring the enforcement—though not the development or drafting—of the Commonwealth’s criminal laws into the purview of the Home Affairs ministry, consistent with the idea of having focused ministerial oversight of the ‘peace, order, and good government’ function. The Attorney-General should always retain ministerial responsibility for law enforcement integrity and oversight, as well as for Commonwealth criminal provisions and related powers, and the integrity of the security intelligence function. This would ensure that balanced attention is paid at the ministerial level to the disruptive forces and threat actors that were mentioned above, on the one hand, and to considerations of the rule of law, the administration of justice, and the integrity of government and public administration, on the other.

In terms of the immigration function, it would make sense for Home Affairs to manage the ‘good order’ functions which are suggested in the Migration Act, namely visa processing and immigration entry, detention, and removal, while supporting a cabinet-level immigration minister who would be charged with working with colleagues across government in relation to the social and economic aspects of immigration.

While the original scope of responsibilities and functions that were put in place by the Turnbull Government in 2017 would largely address this strategic imperative, a gap would nonetheless remain—namely, democratic resilience. This gap could be addressed by combining the 2017 model with an element of the earlier Beazley 2001 model of a proposed Home Affairs ministry. The Beazley proposal included electoral matters—with the Minister for Home Affairs having responsibility for the Australian Electoral Commission, ministerial and parliamentary services, including protective security for high office holders; and government public communications.

With the significant increase since 2001 of foreign interference, grey zone operations, and online mis- and disinformation—all combining with chronic factors such as the destabilising effects of social media, and modern identity-based factionalism—electoral integrity and public confidence in democratic processes are coming under ever greater strain. Labor’s 2001 proposal to bring these additional functions under the ambit of Home Affairs would significantly assist in addressing these risks, for instance through effective government public communications that could counter propaganda, disinformation, and misinformation.

By combining the Turnbull model of 2017 with these other features of the Beazley model of 2001, the following functions would be brought together into a single ministry focused on the strategic and operational aspects of ‘peace, order, and good government’:

  • Countering terrorism;
  • Countering foreign interference;
  • Countering espionage;
  • Countering politically-motivated, communal, ideological, and religious violence;
  • Security intelligence;
  • Countering transnational serious and organised crime;
  • Enforcement of criminal laws;
  • Protective security of Commonwealth personnel, places, assets, and systems;
  • Visa processing, and immigration entry, detention, and removal;
  • Customs and border protection;
  • Offshore maritime security and offshore territories;
  • Seaport and shipping security;
  • Aviation and airport security;
  • Critical infrastructure protection;
  • Cybersecurity;
  • Anti-money laundering and countering terrorist financing;
  • Emergency management and disaster recovery;
  • Civil defence (as a wartime function);
  • Social cohesion (including multiculturalism);
  • Citizenship;
  • Electoral matters (including electoral integrity);
  • Ministerial and parliamentary services; and
  • Government communications and public information.

The strategic logic of Home Affairs is clear: the idea of ‘peace, order, and good government’ needs to be transformed from a 19th century constitutional principle to a strategic and operational risk to be managed by a minister, a department, and independent agencies whose focus would be on ensuring that that older idea is able to be realised in a dramatically different world.

Doing so purposefully, and by design, will become ever more important.

Which countries challenge China’s claim to the Taiwan Strait?

Spiegel magazine has reported that two German warships are set to sail through the Taiwan Strait in the coming weeks, becoming the first German naval vessels to do so in 22 years. Germany will join a growing number of Indo-Pacific and European nations that regularly sail through the Taiwan Strait to challenge Beijing’s claims that the Strait is ‘internal waters’ belonging to China.

The Chinese government rejects the notion that the Strait should be ‘used for international navigation’, as defined by article 37 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). Beijing has determined that the Strait is too narrow to be defined as ‘high seas’ and has outlined that the waters of the Taiwan Strait, ‘from both shores towards the middle of the Strait, are China’s internal waters, then territorial sea, the contiguous zone and then exclusive economic zone’. Beijing incorrectly maintains that innocent passage by foreign militaries in the Taiwan Strait violates its sovereign rights.

Countries challenge Beijing’s unilateral determination by using military assets to undertake transits of the Taiwan Strait, simultaneously reinforcing UNCLOS and the need for unimpeded transit and a free and open Indo-Pacific region. However, not all countries choose to take the same approach. Some countries use transits to publicly challenge China and reinforce the need for international laws and norms, while others quietly pass through the Strait, making their presence known to Beijing, whose ships are always closely following behind.

Publicly available data indicates that the following countries are active in the Taiwan Strait:

Country
Conducts TST
Conducts multiple TST
Regular pattern of TSTs
Country publicises TSTs
Transits with partners
Transits with aircraft
USA
 ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓
Canada
 ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓
Australia
 ✓ ✓ ✓
UK
 ✓ ✓ ✓
France
 ✓ ✓
Germany
 ✓ ✓
Netherlands
 ✓ ✓
Turkey
 ✓

TST = Taiwan Strait Transit

Japan, South Korea and New Zealand are notable absences from this list. Their militaries are active throughout the region, but their governments either chose to take a very quiet approach to any military activity in the Taiwan Strait or to avoid the Strait completely. New Zealand has challenged China’s claims elsewhere, including in the South China Sea, however there is no public reporting of their military passing through the Taiwan Strait.

Other countries, such as the United States, are very active in the Strait. Throughout 2023, US warships transited the Strait six times. US Navy P-8 Poseidon aircraft also conduct flyovers of the Strait. Such activities are publicised by US defence media, underscoring that the US will continue to uphold navigational rights and operate anywhere international law allows.

The US have also recently started to transit the Strait with Canada. A June 2023 joint transit angered Beijing, with a Chinese warship cutting across the bow of the US destroyer in a move categorised as unprofessional. Canada has increased its presence in the Strait with recent reports indicating that Canada now transits the Strait three times a year with this number likely to increase in the future. Canada has also followed the US and The Philippines in placing journalists onboard their military vessels, including those transiting the Strait, to increase awareness back home of the challenges their sailors face from an increasingly aggressive China.

Australia is the final country that likely conducts regular transits of the Strait. However, as the Australian government does not advertise transits, the tempo is difficult to determine. China challenged an Australian transit all the way back in 2001, while another transit was confirmed by Taipei as late as November 2023.

Both the UK and France appear open to transiting the Strait when naval vessels are in the region. The French confirmed that a Floréal-class surveillance frigate sailed through the Strait soon after President Macron’s 2023 visit to Beijing. In 2021, HMS Richmond confirmed via tweet its intent to sail through the Strait while deployed to the region with Britain’s carrier strike group.

Germany will follow the Netherlands, and surprisingly Turkey, as nations that are using 2024 naval deployments to the Indo-Pacific to challenge China’s illegal claims. Sadly, there has yet to be any indication that Italy transited the Strait during the recent deployment of its carrier strike group to the region.

China has a common playbook to respond to these transits. Vessels from China’s navy, and sometimes coastguard, closely follow any foreign military vessel through the Strait, and as demonstrated in 2023, they are willing to push boundaries to intimidate others. This military action is paired with stern diplomatic representations in both Beijing and foreign capitals.

As we have seen with Germany’s upcoming transit, when plans are made public, China will go on the offensive. China has warned Germany against provocation and actions that will ‘harm China’s sovereignty and security’. But Germany’s actions are to be commended. Advertising the transit reinforces value of countries taking actions that push back against China’s unilateral determinations, while upholding the importance of freedom of navigation in the Indo-Pacific.

How Defence can become the employer of choice for construction workers

In the Northern Territory, the expansion of defence capabilities is intricately linked to the region’s construction industry. To provide the Australian Department of Defence the infrastructure it needs and wants, it must provide projects to keep construction workers consistently employed.

The strategic value of this sector lies in its ability to provide the workforce and expertise necessary to support and sustain defence operations. Several myths and concerns have arisen regarding the north’s capacity to manage and deliver construction to Defence’s requirements. Those myths are exactly that: myths. The real challenge is ensuring continued work for those who need to stay in the north.

The transition of the baby-boomer generation from full-time employment to retirement is profoundly impacting Australia’s private and public sector workforces. In response, the workforce policy for the north of Australia is rapidly shifting from unemployment figures to a pressing shortage of skilled workers. To explain this, instead of focusing on the causes of this easy-to-understand fact, a series of myths emerged.

The first myth posits that if finding workers is challenging in Australia’s larger markets, it must be even more difficult in the north. The second myth asserts that the northern construction sector is already at capacity and unable to accommodate new projects. This misconception is further compounded by an assumption that the difficulty in attracting resources serves as conclusive evidence for both myths.

To dispel the first myth, it only needs to be offered that the present Northern Territory construction workforce fluctuates annually. It can range from nearly 10,000 to over 18,000 workers throughout the year and comprises a transient group that moves across northern Queensland, the Northern Territory and northern Western Australia, seeking new opportunities.

Currently, it is unlikely that many of these workers will have a guaranteed project to rely on for next year; their employment horizon is notably short-term. Therefore, the primary challenge for construction businesses is to identify new opportunities to sustain employment year after year.

This ephemeral nature of construction work necessitates government and industry adopting a distinctive analytical approach when assessing the relevant issues.

The demand for construction workers should be viewed as fluid, reflecting the industry’s inherent dynamism. Each project involves a variety of trades, with some trades being involved only briefly, others intermittently and some throughout the entire project duration. This variability underscores the need for numerous concurrent projects to maintain industry activity.

This fluidity and dynamism are central to the industry’s resource planning and form the backdrop for economic analysis and modelling, such as the ‘Billion Dollar Partnership’ report by Master Builders NT. This report assesses the potential pipeline of construction projects against the context of the Top End’s construction workforce.

In contrast to much of the media coverage surrounding the NT construction industry, the sector is managing demand effectively. While acknowledging occasional skill gaps, they only occur during periods of project overlap. In discussions with subcontractors, it has become evident that they are experiencing spare capacity and are actively seeking information about future opportunities within the pipeline.

Why, then, are some projects experiencing difficulties with resource availability? Simple: preferred clients have no trouble sourcing a workforce, while smaller firms do. Preferred clients have often minimised problems that affect this workforce generally: the head contractor’s track record and competence, contract risks and penalties, program and payment certainty, design stability, commercial considerations, and established relationships.

Crucially, many of these decisions are not made directly by the workforce but by their employers. Consequently, due to these underlying complexities, it is entirely possible for a project to face resource shortages even in a stable market.

As such, major clients within the construction industry, including Defence, face three principal strategic options for delivering their initiatives in the north.

The first option is to design their programs around a fly-in-fly-out (FIFO) model, assuming that the north is too challenging and relying on already strained markets in major southern centres.

The second option involves placing their program into the market without preliminary engagement and resorting to FIFO if initial efforts do not yield the desired results.

As the industry advocates, the third (and preferred) option is to engage early, share information and design programs to become a client of choice. This approach is strongly supported by the ‘Billion Dollar Partnership’ report, which offers recommendations to simplify business operations for governments, industry and clients.

To dispel the second myth, we can use the two liquid natural gas facilities in Darwin as examples. These facilities are so large, they contribute to 10 percent of Japan’s electricity. These show the north’s ability to handle large-scale projects far beyond current program expectations. This capability is further demonstrated by the numerous ports, hospitals, commercial buildings, shopping centres, schools, roads, bridges and other infrastructure projects consistently delivered across the north.

The same narrative applies to northern Queensland and Western Australia, where completed projects highlight the region’s potential.

The current pressing challenge for the construction industry in northern Australia isn’t securing a workforce. The challenge is to secure new projects to ensure continued employment for the thousands of construction workers who need to plan for work in 2025 and beyond. Defence will play a crucial role in this endeavour, but it must evolve its strategy by engaging early, sharing information and designing programs that position it as a client of choice.