Tag Archive for: Budget

Australia can’t easily lift defence spending to a Trump-satisfying level

US President Donald Trump has called on NATO members to lift their defence spending from the current target of 2 percent of GDP to 5 percent.

‘They could all afford it,’ he said, warning that the United States would withdraw its guarantees of protection to Europe unless they paid up.

Trump has not opined on Australia’s defence spending, but, when he gets to consider AUKUS, he is unlikely to be satisfied. And there’s no easy way for Australia to lift its spending to a level that would satisfy him.

Australian defence spending was $53.3 billion in 2023–24, which was 2 percent of GDP. The Treasury expects it will reach 2.4 percent of GDP in 2027–28.

Russia, Ukraine, Israel and some Middle Eastern states are the only nations currently spending at least 5 percent of GDP on defence. (China’s data is too opaque to know.) In Europe, Poland comes closest, spending 4.7 percent of GDP this year. US defence spending is 3.4 percent of its GDP.

Trump’s 5 percent figure may be an ambit claim—a Financial Times report suggested he would settle for 3.5 percent. NATO will debate raising its target at its June summit.

For Australia, 3.5 percent of GDP would be $97 billion, about 75 percent more than was actually provided for defence in the budget.

Any increase in defence spending can be funded in three ways: increased taxation, reallocating money from other uses, or debt.

To get an additional $40 billion a year from taxation looks politically painful. To meet that target would require either a 12 percent increase in personal tax collections, a lift in the GST rate from 10 percent to 14 percent, or raising the company tax rate from 30 percent to 40 percent.

The federal government has in fact received an income boost of these dimensions, with total tax collections averaging 23.2 percent of GDP over the past five years, up from 21.6 percent in the previous five. However, this mostly flowed from the extraordinary profitability of resource companies, which will not be repeated.

It is more likely that company tax payments will fall short of treasury forecasts over the next few years as China’s appetite for iron ore and coal fades.

Australia is a low-taxing country—the US, Switzerland and Ireland are the only advanced nations taxing less—so an increase in taxation would not be ruinous to the economy.

It has been suggested Europe impose a defence tax to pay for military preparedness. Denmark scrapped a public holiday to help finance a higher defence budget. Without the immediate threat of Russia at war with a near neighbour, it would be hard to build the political support for such moves in Australia.

Reallocating existing spending looks just as difficult. Cutting social programs carries a high political cost, as the Abbott government learned with its ill-fated 2014–15 budget.

Most of the budget is locked in. There are 412 administered programs with payments governed by indexation. Many programs are driven by legislated entitlements, such as unemployment benefits, Medicare and the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS).

The NDIS is an interesting example: it elbowed its way into a constrained budget on the false assumption costs would be held to $13 billion a year. Instead, it is at $46 billion this year—1.7 percent of GDP—and is forecast to rise to $93 billion, or 2.1 percent of GDP, by 2033–34.

Strong company tax revenue helped fund the NDIS without resorting to debt until this year. Deficits will increase as resource prices soften and the cost of the NDIS continues to rise three times faster than inflation.

Australia is a low-debt country. Its net debt of 29 percent of GDP compares with an advanced country average of 91 percent, so it could afford to borrow more. Poland has funded its expanded military with debt: its deficit is expected to reach a perilous 12.5 percent of GDP this year. There is pressure to ease the European Union’s debt rules to help lift defence spending.

There is an argument for borrowing to purchase assets, including defence equipment, the benefits of which will be derived long into the future. In extreme circumstances, debt forms part of the national security equation through the issue of war bonds.

But with the IMF warning that global government debt is becoming a financial powder keg, surpassing US$100 trillion this year, this may be the wrong time to seek the indulgence of financial markets.

The sorry conclusion is that there is no easy way to achieve the sort of increase in the defence budget that President Trump has in mind for US allies, including Australia.

Budget: a vision of a fraught and fragile world

Beneath the deeply domestic dimensions of any annual budget lies Canberra’s view of the world.

The fiscal flashlight of spending and saving (and now subsidising) naturally catches the eye of every Australian taxpayer. Those taxpayers are also voters who will judge the Albanese Labor government in a federal election in the next 12 months. Can’t get more domestic than that.

Skip by the headlines about electricity bills and cost of living to find the discussion of international power. In banner-speak, the budget documents issued on 14 May peer at the world and declare: ‘Growth slow, risks grow’.

The budget speech by Treasurer Jim Chalmers describes an economic outlook framed by ‘fraught and fragile global conditions’, as inflation lingers in North America and growth slows in China.

Treasury gives a detailed view in its economic outlook statement, forecasting that global growth will ‘remain subdued over the next few years and is expected to record the longest stretch of below‑average growth since the early 1990s’.

Under the heading ‘Key risks to the international outlook’, Treasury judges: ‘Heightened geopolitical tensions in the Middle East have added to the risks associated with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. A further escalation in geopolitical tensions could add to energy costs, disrupt international trade, and slow global growth. The outlook for the Chinese economy, including the property sector, also remains uncertain.’

The strategic direction statement from the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade sees an international environment that’s ‘challenging and complex’. The department’s list of priorities for the 2024–25 financial year mixes organisational boilerplate (good diplomacy, good aid) with an explicit Indo-Pacific purpose: ‘enhancing Australia’s standing across the Indo-Pacific through targeted public diplomacy’, and ‘strengthening the number and diversity of Australian university undergraduates with Indo-Pacific capability’.

The banner-speak from the three portfolio ministers—responsible for foreign affairs, trade and aid—is of ‘a time of great global uncertainty’, driving a promise of more cash to reverse Australia’s ‘long-term reduction in diplomatic resources’.

The Defence Department’s strategic direction statement crams a fundamental shift in military thinking into two pages, distilling the National Defence Strategy released on 17 April.

The government has scrapped the old ‘balanced force’ model for the Australian Defence Force. The balanced force demanded lots of capabilities, to keep options open. The force could be adjusted to respond to whatever needs, contingencies or dangers appeared on the horizon. An unbalanced future has arrived, and the balanced force is judged unfit for purpose.

The ADF must become ‘an integrated, focused force designed to address Australia’s most significant strategic risks’.  The new government guidance to Defence is capitalised as ‘a Strategy of Denial’, calling for an ADF that can:

—defend Australia and our immediate region;

—deter through denial any adversary’s attempt to project power against Australia through our northern approaches;

—protect Australia’s economic connection to our region and the world;

—contribute with our partners to the collective security of the Indo-Pacific region; and

—contribute with our partners to the maintenance of the global rules-based order.

A Strategy of Denial is appropriate for a nation that’s been through the stages of grieving for the disintegration of the liberal international order (denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance).

Parts of the budget respond to globalisation in reverse, what The Economist calls ‘the great regression’ to subsidy wars, sanctions and splintering capital flows. The magazine’s cover and main editorial proclaim ‘the new economic order’ as fragmentation and decay have imposed a stealth tax on the global economy’. The three big scourges identified in its survey are the proliferation of punitive economic measures, the sudden vogue for industrial policy, and the decay of global institutions, particularly the World Trade Organisation.

Australia knows all about economic punishment, having faced down and beaten five years of trade coercion from China.

The return of industry policy is a signature element of this budget, again with plenty of capitalisation: a Future Made in Australia with a $22.7 billion price tag. The pitch is investing to make Australia ‘a renewable energy superpower, value‑add to our resources and strengthen economic security’.

A government getting ready to face the voters (17 May 2025 is the latest possible poll date) talks up the positives for jobs and the economy.

As economists smash and kick at the government for getting back into the protectionist game of picking business winners, much of Labor’s response points to security and the fragile nature of the global system. For a glorious example of the smash and kick, see a sharp piece by the distinguished economist Saul Eslake, arguing that the best way to gain acceptance for bad policy is to wrap it in a ‘security blanket’. Ouch!

A Future Made in Australia is a broader version of Defence’s demand for ‘sovereign industrial capability’, a vision much in vogue in 2020 as the Covid-19 pandemic added another dimension to the need for a robust and resilient industrial base.

Among its many jobs the 2024 Australian budget must serve as an election budget. Labor may well bring down another, early one in March next year before going to the polls in May. This was the timetable Scott Morrison used in 2022, and that March effort didn’t stick because voters knew what was coming in May.

Read Tuesday’s budget, then, as offering plenty of goodies to the taxpayers. But beyond the fiscal flashlight, the voters can glimpse messages about a fraught world.

Australia grasps at answers both old and new. Canberra’s adjustment is to what wonks, economists and Western politicians lament as ‘the unravelling of the “international rules-based order”.’

Defending Australia from disasters

The latest Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report warns, once again, that climate-change impacts—hazards such as bushfires, drought and flooding—are becoming more frequent and more intense, damaging nature, people and infrastructure. Yet measures to reduce carbon emissions and adapt to these climate-fuelled hazards are coming far too slow.

Looking at the Australian government’s 2023–24 budget and the midterm review of progress under the internationally agreed Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction, it’s fair to wonder whether we have given up on protecting Australia from the impacts of climate change. Are we satisfied that all we can hope for is more efficient recovery from disasters?

Even if greenhouse-gas emissions stop tomorrow, the impacts of climate change will continue to increase due to past emissions. Under a relatively optimistic low-emissions scenario, the cost of natural disasters in Australia is estimated to grow to $73 billion per year by 2060.

With every new bushfire and flood, Australia is spending more on disaster recovery. Now, we need to learn how to prepare for—and not just recover from—natural disasters.

We urgently need transformational solutions that stop disasters in their tracks. Such solutions would prevent deaths and destruction, protect biodiversity and improve air quality. They would also vastly reduce the costs of disaster management.

Last month, the UN General Assembly held a high-level meeting on the midterm review of the Sendai Framework. The framework is driving a shift from managing disasters after they occur to proactively understanding and managing disaster risks. It is the global blueprint for building the world’s resilience to disasters, aiming to substantially reduce global disaster mortality by 2030. And it’s the framework that guides Australia’s approach to disaster risk reduction.

The review found that considerable progress has been made at a global scale. Governments and stakeholders now have a better understanding of the risks with which they are confronted, putting them in a better position to reduce or manage those risks.

Nevertheless, the scale and intensity of disasters continues to increase, with more people affected by disasters in the past nine years than in the nine before that. The review found that, despite increases in the direct and indirect economic impacts of disasters, investments in reducing the risk of disaster remain inadequate.

At the opening of the review, the head of the UN Office for Disaster Risk Reduction, Mami Mizutori, warned: ‘We cannot choose a path of timidity, maintaining business as usual. To do so presents us with threats that not only jeopardise sustainable development, but also our very existence.’

She reminded us: ‘The science is clear. It is less costly to take action before a disaster devastates than to wait until destruction is done and respond after it has happened.’

Yet, in Australia, 98% of the $24.5 billion in federal funding spent on disasters between 2005 and 2022 went towards recovery and relief rather than building resilience.

Australia’s financial services regulator, the Australian Prudential Regulation Authority, says that the country must spend $3.5 billion each year to limit the damage from climate-related natural hazards. Responding to bushfires, storms and cyclones after the fact is likely to cost 11 times more.

Last year, nearly 70% of Australians were affected by storms, floods, cyclones and bushfires. The Australian government is taking notice—investing in risk reduction and coordination of all-hazard preparedness, response and recovery.

The 2023–24 budget delivers investments in emergency management, building on last year’s establishment of the National Emergency Management Agency and the $1 billion Disaster Ready Fund. The funding will go towards better emergency readiness, communication and supplies, as well as a framework for mental health care and improved wellbeing following a disaster.

These investments are important,. We will have more and worse disasters and we need to make sure that we can keep people safe. Yet, these are incremental approaches and they won’t keep up with the spiralling increase in disasters caused by climate change. Warning people about a disaster so that they can get out of the way saves lives but doesn’t prevent major damage and loss. It is not sustainable and the government cannot expect people to continue like this.

More than a year after the Lismore floods, many people still can’t return to their houses. Many who have returned don’t have electricity or water, and they still have many repairs to make. Two and a half years after the 2019 bushfire in Mallacoota, just 15 of the 120 homes that were destroyed have been rebuilt, leaving many of the town’s residents without a place to live. It is only going to get worse.

Disasters have lasting environmental as well as human impacts. The Black Summer bushfires of 2019–20 incinerated 17 million hectares of land—an area roughly the size of Belgium—killed or displaced at least 3 billion animals, doubled the country’s annual greenhouse-gas emissions and seriously damaged the ozone layer. Warning people about fires may save their lives, but it does nothing to address the devastating environmental impacts.

Australians need to take a step back and look at prioritising our nation’s research, expenditure and response. Policies should aim to prevent disasters where possible and reduce their intensity when they are inevitable. Research programs like the Australian National University’s Cyclone Intervention Initiative and the ANU–Optus Bushfire Research Centre of Excellence show that transformational solutions to disasters can be developed in our own backyard.

Technology that can prevent and minimise the risk of disasters is achievable, but it needs to be treated, and funded, for what it really is—defending Australia. People are fighting for their lives and homes right now. Why is it that Australia has the strategic foresight to commit $368 billion to acquiring submarines to be delivered in the 2050s but not to commit more than $1 billion over five years for disaster prevention?

Governments supported the development of the Covid-19 vaccine in record time. This was facilitated through a sense of urgency spurring strong public–private partnerships. Australia’s next budget should bring that same urgency to addressing climate-fuelled disasters and support for large, collaborative research missions to develop these technologies quickly. That will take us further down the path of contributing to achieving the goals of the Sendai Framework and truly building the world’s resilience to disasters.

Labor’s defence budget sets out some hard truths

The Albanese government’s first budget since its election win in May was not designed to focus on Australia’s security situation or defence spending. Tasked with sharing Australia’s difficult economic situation with the Australian public, the budget had more immediate fish to fry.

For those Australians who wanted to see increased defence spending, this wasn’t going to be that budget as it would have directly undercut existing defence reviews due within months. Certainly, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has stated that the government will do whatever is necessary to ensure Australia has the defence force it needs in these strategically uncertain times.

But, as I explain in the latest edition of ASPI’s defence budget brief, the October budget papers give no indication of how much the government is willing to spend to do that. With the defence strategic review under Stephen Smith and Angus Houston conducting its work and not due to report until March next year, the government has stuck with the funding line it inherited from its predecessor’s March budget. That’s an artefact of the 2016 defence white paper—a document developed in a different era and quickly overtaken by events.

So Defence is in a holding pattern while the government keeps its powder dry and waits for Smith and Houston (noting that their interim report has recently been handed to the government). No doubt it has had conversations with the review leads indicating its comfort zone for additional spending, but that hasn’t been made public.

What we can say from the information set out in this budget is that any increase to defence spending will require difficult reprioritisation. While the government received a revenue windfall this year due to high commodity prices, those are forecast to return to normal. And with the government committing to deliver the tax cuts agreed by its predecessor, its income is under further pressure. At the same time, it’s facing five growing spending pressures: interest on the growing debt, the National Disability Insurance Scheme, healthcare, aged care and defence—and that’s before any increase to the existing defence funding line. The result is a forecast for deficit spending for the next 10 years.

That’s not a good situation for the review leads. They’re tasked with delivering new military acquisitions faster in the next decade, but the existing acquisition plan is probably already unaffordable (without increased spending), with many entirely new capabilities or expensive replacement projects. And with nuclear-powered submarines and frigates on the untouchable list, the challenge of delivering more sooner gets even harder, as those two programs will consume tens of billions of dollars over the coming decade even before they deliver their first vessels.

On top of this, inflation is rapidly eroding Defence’s buying power by billions of dollars every year. By the end of the forward estimates, Defence may have lost around $18 billion in buying power even if inflation rapidly returns to the Reserve Bank of Australia’s target rate. That’s the budget papers’ predictions, but those predictions haven’t been very accurate in recent years.

This year, despite nominal growth of over 7% in defence spending, real growth is under 1% once inflation is taken into account (although, with inflation difficult to predict, it’s also difficult to reliably quantify real growth). It’s hard to see Defence affording its ambitious acquisition program with a budget that’s essentially static in real terms.

Inflation is also driving nominal GDP growth at a predicted 8% this year. That means that defence spending is falling as a percentage of GDP for the second year in a row despite the government delivering the funding set out in the 2016 white paper and 2020 update. Predicted defence spending has also fallen significantly just since the March budget, from 2.11% to 1.96% of GDP, despite the funding line remaining fundamentally unchanged.

In summary, there’s no pot of gold available to cover increased defence spending. That doesn’t mean the government can’t or won’t increase defence spending, but any increase will require either higher taxes (which appears unlikely, since the government is proceeding with its predecessor’s planned tax cuts), greater borrowing (accelerating the vicious cycle of debts and deficits) or cuts to other priorities that have constituencies of their own.

When we look at Defence’s big three areas of spending—capital acquisitions, people and sustainment—there have been no significant changes since the March budget. With the Australian dollar at a 20-year low against the US dollar, the defence budget has received a large automatic top-up to maintain its purchasing, but there’s no adjustment to compensate for inflation.

There are a few changes to spending, but they’re broadly consistent with what we would see in a mid-year budget update. For those who follow capability, the top 30 acquisition projects and sustainment products hold some interesting information, but the lists are quite consistent with previous plans. We’ll have to wait for the outcomes of the strategic review to see anything new.

Similarly, there’s been no adjustment to Defence’s personnel allocation since March. But that still means the Australian Defence Force needs to find roughly 13,000 more people this decade to operate the capabilities on its shopping list, even though it’s only managed to grow by an average of 300 per year since the 2016 white paper. Smith and Houston may need to consider whether it makes sense to acquire capabilities that the ADF can’t crew, or at least how the ADF can maximise its combat power without many additional people. Of course, another HR strategy is one based on ‘If you build it, they will come.’

The situation is also difficult with Defence’s civilian and external workforce. To deliver its ambitious capability program, Defence has relied on growing numbers of contractors. They’ve helped Defence spend record amounts in its acquisition programs in recent years, despite the impact of Covid-19; however, they come at a cost. That growth may be over; in the October budget, the government is seeking $144.6 million in ‘savings from external labour and savings from advertising, travel and legal expenses’. That’s not a large percentage of Defence’s total budget, but, if it means the organisation can’t hire the people it needs to manage the acquisition program, it’s hard to see how Defence will deliver more capability sooner.

Overall, while there were no surprises, the budget hasn’t made the job any easier for Smith and Houston.

Budget must uphold funding needed to ensure Australia’s water security

In many Australian policy circles, nation-building is an archaic 1970s term—a throwback to a time when the federal government built infrastructure to encourage national prosperity. Today, cash-strapped federal, state, territory and local governments often have little choice but to adopt a just-in-time approach to capital infrastructure investment, but strains on budgets means that this looks increasingly like a whack-a-mole approach. The changing climatic, economic and national security risks Australia is facing are reason enough for governments to rethink their approach to nation-building and infrastructure, and to move beyond incrementalism.

Water security in northern Australia provides an excellent case study of why the way we think about nation-building must change.

Climate change, Covid-19 and the war in Ukraine have reinforced the importance of resilience in global food and energy supply chains. North Queensland is awash (pun intended) with opportunities for Australia to contribute solutions to these problems. Taking up these economic opportunities will promote socially and economically prosperous communities for generations to come.

Water security is the ultimate requirement for northern Australia to prosper—not only for agriculture and population growth but also for establishing new industries such as green hydrogen.

With the right water infrastructure, north Queensland can help the federal government deliver on the decarbonisation agenda. In green hydrogen production, around nine litres of water are needed for every kilogram of hydrogen.

Communities around Townsville are determined to catch and store the vast amounts of water falling yearly in the monsoonal season between December and April. This will capitalise on the region’s natural endowments—it has the nation’s best solar and wind resources, rich soil and solid rainfall.

Only around 1% of the annual rainfall in north Queensland is currently captured. With climate change, the region is set to receive the same amount of rain in a shorter period, making measures to manage the ebb and flow of concentrated periods of rain even more important.

Population pressures in the region are putting a strain on north Queensland’s water resources. In the 40 years since a dam was last built there, the region’s population has doubled, and growth is expected to continue over the coming decades. So, while north Queensland is far from the driest part of Australia, water security is becoming an impediment to both growth and long-term resilience.

The proposed Hells Gates Dam is located approximately 120 kilometres northwest of Charters Towers and 160 kilometres northwest of Townsville. It would store 2,100 gigalitres of water and open 60,000 hectares of agricultural land. It could provide a reliable and secure long-term water supply for irrigation, and high-value agricultural production for Charters Towers, Townsville and the surrounding regions. This project arguably has global significance since the water would fuel new industries like green hydrogen. North Queensland has the ingredients to lead the nation’s green energy and hydrogen revolution if water resources are secured.

Townsville Enterprise delivered a $24 million business case for the dam to the state and federal governments earlier this year. It shows that Hells Gates Dam will build the kind of infrastructure that provides jobs and positive economic returns.

That case stated that the dam has the potential to generate a $6 billion increase in gross regional product, or GRP, from agriculture projects. The water security it will provide will positively impact the supply chain, from the farm gate to export terminals in Townsville and beyond.

The federal government recently put the project on hold for 12 months, while committing to review the funding allocated to it. It is critical that the $7 billion of funding allocated to Hells Gates Dam is maintained in tonight’s budget. The previous government fully funded the dam in the last budget, subject to a business case that has now been delivered.

Current approaches to this kind of infrastructure focus on just-in-time investments. However, this slow-burn planning fails to promote growth and inhibits investment. Projects like the Snowy Mountains and Ord River schemes show what can be achieved with water when we build infrastructure focused on the future well before it is needed.

Interestingly, the Hells Gates Dam project is community driven. The idea was put forward and championed by the community to drive local economic development. Nothing focuses a northern community more than the thought of running out of water.

Australians are starting to accept that hard economic choices are needed—and that, before making those choices, the government must move away from spreading funding like economic fairy dust. It must focus on developing a strategic approach to regional development.

The federal government must reconsider how it will use future-focused infrastructure investment to promote national resilience and economic security. The science is clear that Australia will face increasingly more frequent and intense weather events. While three years of La Niña events in a row has seen the east coast struggle with too much water, that will not be the case forever. Water and water security are critical to our nation’s economic and social prosperity, and more future-focused thinking is needed.

Policy, Guns and Money: Foreign interference and budget initiatives for northern Australia

In this episode, ASPI Executive Director Peter Jennings speaks with Victorian Senator James Paterson, chair of the Parliamentary Joint Committee on Intelligence and Security. They discuss the committee’s recent inquiry into national security risks affecting Australia’s higher education and research sectors, the senator’s role as chair, and Australia’s foreign interference laws.

John Coyne and Gill Savage from ASPI’s Northern Australia Strategic Policy Centre talk about what the latest federal budget holds for northern Australia. They discuss the challenges of decisions being made in southern Australia for initiatives in the north, the limitations of siloed policy approaches and the need for cohesive, big-picture planning.

The (geo)politics and (geo)economics of Australia’s election

‘Tonight, as we gather, war rages in Europe. The global pandemic is not over. Devastating floods have battered our communities. We live in uncertain times.’

— Treasurer Josh Frydenberg, budget speech, 29 March 2022

The federal budget is the starter’s flag for the race to Australia’s May election.

Cash splash is prelude to campaign dash.

Or—less slang, more formality—the national accounts are presented as the government prepares to account to the voters.

As prefigured by the budget, the election race is a deeply domestic affair with those well-tried horses Costa Living, Jobs ’N’ Growth and Pet-Roll Prices dominating the form guides.

This year, though, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse round the bend close on the heels of the domestic nags.

Before turning to Costa and Pet-Roll, Josh Frydenberg started his budget speech with that nod to war, conquest and disaster, and ‘the biggest economic shock since the Great Depression’.

The introductory thought to the government’s ‘vision and plan for a stronger future’ was the need to be ‘realistic about the growing threats we face’. The section on national security began with rumination on the reality of a ‘world less stable’, confronting ‘aggression’ and ‘coercion’.

The election race will gallop across domestic terrain with a constant eye over the shoulder at the (geo)politics and (geo)economics.

Russia’s war on Ukraine, the budget predicts, will cut global growth by three-quarters of a percentage point in 2022 and increase global inflation by about 1.5%. Treasury is relatively sanguine about what Ukraine will mean for the Oz economy:

As an energy and food exporter with very limited direct trade exposure to Russia, Australia is better placed than most countries to absorb the economic effects of the conflict and associated disruptions. Higher fuel and other prices will negatively affect consumers and dampen consumption growth, but higher commodity prices will provide a positive boost to national income through higher export earnings.

The state-of-the-world survey offered by the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade gives a flavour of the ‘incoming government brief’ DFAT will offer after the May election. The added benefit with the portfolio budget papers is that swathes of pages aren’t ‘redacted’ in the way that the government brief is cut when it dribbles out through freedom of information requests.

A ‘deteriorating strategic environment’ confronts Australia, DFAT reports: ‘Many Indo-Pacific countries remain vulnerable following the COVID-19 pandemic, while great power strategic competition is intensifying. The rules, norms and institutions that support Australia’s prosperity and security are under persistent pressure.’

The linking of China and Russia—what Prime Minister Scott Morrison calls ‘a new arc of autocracy’—gets this DFAT judgement: ‘Growing alignment between Russia and China, with its increasing military capability and growing assertiveness, has significant geo-strategic implications and underlines the importance of established rules and norms instead of a “might is right” approach.’

For the Department of Defence, the money keeps rolling in, as promised. See ASPI’s Marcus Hellyer on the 2022–23 defence budget: ‘In key ways it acknowledges and responds to a changing world, but in others it is a relic of an earlier time.’

In the cyber domain, Australia is going to spice it up with REDSPICE, which stands for Resilience – Effects – Defence – Space – Intelligence – Cyber – Enablers. The promise is $9.9 billion over the next decade for new cyber and intelligence capabilities and 1,900 new people at the Australian Signals Directorate. The supernerds of Defence’s cyberworld think it ‘the most significant single investment’ in ASD’s 75 years.

The celebration of ASD’s 75th birthday was why Jeremy Fleming, head of Britain’s signals and cyber intelligence agency, GCHQ, was in Canberra to give a speech on ‘a period of generational upheaval’—pandemic, the ‘dominance of technology and cyber’, the rise of China, the end of the Afghanistan campaign, and Russia’s invasion.

From deep inside the secret world, Fleming emphasised ‘a remarkable feature’ of the Ukraine conflict—how much Western intelligence has been so quickly declassified to get ahead of Russian President Vladimir Putin’s actions:

From the warnings of the war. To the intelligence on false flag operations designed to provide a fake premise to the invasion. And more recently, to the Russian plans to falsely claim Ukrainian use of banned chemical weapons.

On this and many other subjects, deeply secret intelligence is being released to make sure the truth is heard. At this pace and scale, it really is unprecedented.

Fleming said Putin’s massive miscalculation produced exactly what Russia didn’t want, galvanising NATO and triggering ‘an unprecedented international response’.

Russia’s choices narrow, while China has big choices to make, Fleming noted:

We know both Presidents Xi and Putin place great value on their personal relationships. But Xi’s calculus is more nuanced. He’s not publicly condemned the invasion, presumably calculating that it helps him oppose the US. And, with an eye on retaking Taiwan, China doesn’t want to do anything which may constrain its ability to move in the future …

But there are risks to them both (and arguably more for China) in being too closely aligned. Russia understands that long term, China will become increasingly strong militarily and economically. Some of their interests conflict; Russia could be squeezed out of the equation.

And it is equally clear that a China that wants to set the rules of the road—the norms for a new global governance—is not well served by close alliance with a regime that willfully and illegally ignores them all.

As the flag went down in Canberra in budget week, Trade Minister Dan Tehan was in Washington to launch an annual strategic economic dialogue with US Commerce Secretary Gina Raimondo. The talks covered economic coercion, critical minerals and regional supply chains.

Australia repeats with the US what it’s doing with Japan and India in the Supply Chain Resilience Initiative, to ‘counter China’s dominance as trade and geopolitical tensions escalate across the region’.

In creating the strategic economic dialogue with the US, Canberra repurposes the title of an agreement it reached with China. The signal to Beijing is sent using China’s own codes.

Australia’s strategic economic dialogue with China was born in 2013 as part of the ‘comprehensive strategic partnership’. The strategic language was part of Beijing’s price for getting an annual leaders’ summit. These days, Beijing won’t take ministerial phone calls, much less do summits.

Morrison bid adieu to the strategic partnership with China in February 2021. In May, Beijing suspended the China–Australia Strategic Economic Dialogue (already moribund since 2017), denouncing Australia for disrupting normal exchanges and cooperation ‘out of Cold War mindset and ideological discrimination’.

Heading to Washington, Tehan’s headline was ‘Strategic Economic Dialogue’, but by the time of the joint statement, Washington codes were injected, so it became the Australia–US Strategic Commercial Dialogue; when the treasurer and treasury secretary join future meetings, expect ‘economic’ to creep back into title.

For Australia, this dialogue will be the geoeconomics complement to the geopolitics of AUSMIN, the annual meeting between Australia’s foreign and defence ministers and the US secretaries of state and defence.

For the US, the dialogue is another piece of President Joe Biden’s attempt to create a new ‘Indo-Pacific economic framework’.

The US is in the strange position of having to build a framework because it trashed its own previous creation. The Trump administration dumped the Trans-Pacific Partnership, an impressive effort to build a US version of what the Indo-Pacific trade future should look like.

Biden can’t join the replacement model Comprehensive and Progressive TPP, now in its fourth year of operation. The politics of free trade treaties is toxic in Washington; frameworks will have to do.

That’s what happens when domestic nags gallop in competition with ‘geo’ steeds.

Now off and racing towards May, Australia knows the feeling.

Why modern monetary theory won’t work for Australia

Budget deficits used to be seen as proof of profligacy, but a new permissiveness has swept the world, partly in response to the Covid-19 pandemic, but also reflecting new economic thinking about the sustainability of government debt.

In ASPI forums, I get asked if this means that Australia’s defence spending could rise beyond 2% of GDP—first targeted by former prime minister Tony Abbott when he was opposition leader in 2012 and recently achieved—to 3% or 4%.

Further increases are in prospect. Defence Minister Peter Dutton didn’t demur when asked last month if the AUKUS deal meant spending would rise to 2.5% of GDP. ‘I think in all likelihood that will be the reality but certainly north of 2%,’ he said, adding that the forthcoming mid-year budget update would provide further information.

Australia has been an outlier among advanced countries in the strength of its budget management, which is why Australian government bonds have only eight peers with a AAA credit rating from each of the major rating agencies.

The International Monetary Fund reports that even with the big outlays on Covid programs, the Australian government’s net debt at 34.5% of GDP is less than half the advanced-country average of 88%.

It is a performance that owes much to Peter Costello—treasurer in John Howard’s Coalition government—who used the demonisation of debt and deficit to tar Labor’s economic credentials.

This concern with fiscal rectitude was unusual. Historical data published on the Reserve Bank of Australia’s website shows that the federal budget was constantly in deficit between 1953 and 1987, after which the Labor government achieved four brief years of surplus.

However, surplus budgeting was always an idea supported by a strong current of economic thinking. While followers of economist John Maynard Keynes argued that deficits were helpful to stimulate economies during downturns, his critics held that deficits encouraged capital inflows, which pushed exchange rates higher, making the private sector less competitive and neutralising any stimulatory effect. This was the debate in Australia and overseas in the wake of the global financial crisis.

Most governments opted for the Keynesian stimulus—a step endorsed by the IMF—on the understanding that efforts to work off debt would be pursued once economic conditions improved.

Over the past five years, a radically different perspective has gained currency in the US on the left of the Democrats on the political spectrum. Presidential aspirant Bernie Sanders in 2016 and 2020 had as his principal economic adviser Stephanie Kelton, who is a theorist behind what is known as ‘modern monetary theory’, or MMT.

It contends that the only constraint on spending for the government of a country that controls its own currency should be inflation in an overstretched economy.

The starting point for MMT is that governments are in a radically different position to households and businesses. Households and businesses are users of money, while governments create it. While everyone else has to earn, borrow or invest to obtain money, governments simply create currency every time they spend.

Governments don’t tax in order to cover spending; they tax so that spending doesn’t create excessive demand and hence inflation. MMT holds that a government which borrows in its own currency is never in a position where it can’t finance something.

The theory was ridiculed by mainstream economists. No one in US President Joe Biden’s administration would endorse it publicly, but there are echoes of MMT in its multitrillion-dollar spending plans.

However, thinking about budget economics was upturned in 2019 in the citadel of the economic mainstream—the American Economics Association—with its annual presidential lecture delivered by former IMF chief economist Olivier Blanchard.

Blanchard showed that over most of the post-war period, the interest rate on US government debt was less than the economy’s nominal growth rate. The same was true of most other advanced nations. Since the budget size increases in line with the economy’s nominal growth, this meant that debt didn’t carry a net positive cost to the budget.

‘If the future is like the past, this implies that debt rollovers, that is the issuance of debt without a later increase in taxes, may well be feasible. Put bluntly, public debt may have no fiscal cost,’ Blanchard said.

This is in sharp contrast to the earlier work done jointly by Blanchard’s predecessor at the IMF, Kenneth Rogoff, and the current World Bank chief economist, Carmen Reinhart, who argued that once a country’s debt surpassed around 90% of GDP, its economy stagnated. The Rogoff–Reinhart thesis was influential in the austerity programs adopted after the global financial crisis but has been much criticised, including the strength of its empirical and statistical analysis.

Blanchard’s work grants licence for the new permissiveness. In follow-up work, he argued that Japan should embrace permanent budget deficits rather than seek to strengthen budget finances with increases in its consumption tax.

Australia has special reasons for distrusting this thesis. A key measure in Australia’s relations with the rest of the world is the ‘terms of trade’—the relationship between the prices we receive for our exports and the prices we pay for our imports.

For most advanced countries, the terms of trade (which are measured as an index) are relatively stable—the prices of the manufactured goods and services they import and export vary little from one year to the next. By contrast, the prices of the commodities that account for almost 80% of Australia’s exports can swing wildly.

For 55 years up to 2004, the index measure had three troughs of between 50 and 55 points and three boom peaks of between 70 and 80 points. The average, to which the terms of trade always returned, was 63 points.

However, over the past 15 years, it has been off the charts—soaring as high as 123 points in 2011 and 2021. There has been nothing like this since the gold rush of the 1860s. This is the China-powered resources boom and its aftermath.

The danger for Australia is that any return of commodity prices to their long-term average—due to a recession in China, for example—could turn a large deficit into a gigantic one. That would scare investors both globally and domestically and could force a brutal economic contraction.

The takeaway for those wanting to raise defence spending is that the new thinking on budget deficits delivers no licence for spending in Australia. The alternatives are cutting spending elsewhere or raising taxes.

The difficulty of attacking spending was shown by the excruciating experience of the Abbott government’s first budget, when it tried to achieve a relatively modest reduction in spending of 1% of GDP with a range of cuts including a co-payment for Medicare, reduced indexing of aged pensions and welfare benefits, and cuts to health and education payments to the states. The only significant cut that survived was to foreign aid.

The difficulty of raising more from taxes was shown by Labor’s failed 2019 election campaign when voters rejected its platform of tax increases, including changes to negative gearing, family trusts and franked dividends, even though it was aimed mainly at high income earners.

Analysis by Deloitte Access Economics suggests that the combination of overly generous tax cuts, rising defence spending—it agrees with Dutton that it will reach 2.5% of GDP within a decade—and rising unfunded costs for the National Disability Insurance Scheme will leave a budget hole of $60 billion, or around 3% of GDP.

To underline the dimensions of such a hole, the firm estimates that it could be closed by raising the GST rate to 17%, raising every personal marginal tax rate by 5.5%, raising the company tax rate from 30% to 50%, or halving spending on education and disbanding the defence force altogether.

The bottom line is that defence spending could only be raised to 3% of GDP or more if voters were convinced that Australia was facing an existential emergency.

Funding on track but strategic circumstances worsening: the cost of Australia’s defence

Once again, the Australian government has delivered exactly the funding it promised in the 2016 defence white paper and 2020 defence strategic update (DSU). If the government was willing to recommit to the white paper’s funding line in the depths of the Covid-19 recession, it was very unlikely to walk away from it now that the economy is recovering faster than expected.

As shown in ASPI’s 2021–2022 Defence budget brief, the consolidated funding line (including both the Department of Defence and the Australian Signals Directorate) is $44.6 billion, which is real growth of 4.1%. It’s the ninth straight year of real growth and, according to the DSU’s funding model, that will continue until the end of the decade.

Last year, defence funding hit 2.04% of GDP, meeting the government’s promise to restore the defence budget to 2% of GDP by 2020–2021. This year, it’s projected to reach 2.09%. Both of those numbers are smaller than predicted a year ago, as GDP has recovered faster than expected. It’s a salutary lesson on why we shouldn’t obsess too much about small changes in percentages of GDP.

Last year’s budget planned a substantial $3 billion or 27% increase to Defence’s acquisition spending. That was always going to be challenging in the middle of a pandemic that was disrupting global supply chains. During the year, the government and Defence reprioritised spending, both as a Covid-19 stimulus and to keep projects moving, but in the end the acquisition program ended up around $1 billion short, once exchange rate adjustments are taken into account.

Despite that, the military equipment, facilities and information and communications technology acquisition programs all set spending records. Overall, it was a 13% increase on the previous year. That’s quite an achievement in the middle of a pandemic. It’s a very encouraging sign that industry can meet the challenge of ‘eating the elephant’ presented by the DSU’s growing acquisition program. Australian defence industry did particularly well, according to Defence’s data. Defence’s local military equipment spend grew by a remarkable 35% to around $3.5 billion. Australian industry isn’t just growing in absolute terms: there are also signs that it’s growing in relative terms compared to the share of spending going overseas. If that continues, it’s evidence at the macro level that the government’s defence industry policy is delivering.

There’s another $3 billion increase in acquisition spending planned this year. If the recovery from Covid-19 continues, Defence and industry could come close to achieving it.

The sustained spending is delivering capability. At the end of last year, the F-35A reached the key milestone of initial operational capability. It will reach its full capability in late 2023 after a 21-year journey. The air warfare destroyer project will also reach full capability very soon. There are substantial upgrades to Defence’s facilities occurring around the country.

The naval shipbuilding program is aiming to spend $2.5 billion this year, and its biggest element, the Attack-class submarine project, is looking to hit $1 billion for the first time. The naval shipbuilding enterprise will most likely reach $4 billion in annual spending by the time the submarine and future frigate programs are into construction. But that also means that those projects will have spent tens of billions of dollars between them by the time the first submarine and frigate are operational.

The government’s recent announcement that it will accelerate the establishment of a domestic guided weapons manufacturing capability in Australia was big news. With $100 billion in investment in guided weapons planned and the policy and industrial fundamentals for local production in place, there are good prospects for a huge leap forward for military and industrial capability and the mitigation of supply-chain risks. Getting it right is important, but Defence should also start quickly with some low-risk projects to produce existing types of weapons.

But fundamental problems remain in Defence’s capability acquisition system. Earlier this year, Defence cancelled its project to deliver the Submarine Escape Rescue and Abandonment System. After getting into contract and spending what could be close to $100 million, Defence decided that it had irreconcilable differences with its industry partner.

The army’s highest priority program, digitisation, also has been put on hold after nearly 15 years of work and almost $2 billion spent. Even if it continues, LAND 200 could take another 10 years to complete—in total, that’s longer than the F-35A. Can Defence keep running projects that take a quarter of a century to deliver?

Defence’s external workforce is now its biggest ‘service’, ahead of the army. And there’s a looming iceberg in there. Defence’s acquisition and sustainment budgets are planned to double over the decade. Local acquisition spending alone could grow from $2.6 billion to around $10 billion. Defence will need a much larger workforce to run those activities, but its own workforce is capped, so it’s increasingly having to turn to contractors. There’s very little data available on what individual contractors cost, but it could be well over twice the average cost of public servants. Collectively, it could cost $1 billion more than an equivalent number of public servants today.

While Defence’s top-level budget breakdown shows that the cost of its workforce is declining as a share of the overall budget, that’s potentially misleading; the costs of growing numbers of contractors show up not in Defence’s personnel budget but in its acquisition and sustainment budgets. It’s hard to tell, but it’s possible that over 10% of Defence’s acquisition budget is going to contractors helping to run projects. Overall, the cost of contractors could explode and eat deeply into Defence’s acquisition budget. Defence needs to fully understand the value-for-money case for using contractors—and it needs to share that with parliament.

While there are significant questions about how efficiently Defence is spending, there are even bigger questions about whether it’s spending on the right things in the first place.

We noted last year the fundamental disconnect between the strategic assessments in the DSU and the capabilities presented in the supporting force structure plan. The DSU emphasised the need for long-range strike capabilities that can impose cost on and deter a great-power adversary at distance. Yet the ADF’s strike cupboard is bare, and there’s no clear path to restock it quickly. Huge investment is also planned in capabilities that appear to have minimal deterrent effect on a great-power adversary, such as up to $40 billion on heavy armoured vehicles.

The force structure and timelines for delivery are holdovers from previous strategic planning documents developed in circumstances that bear little resemblance to our current one. Fundamental changes to concepts and force structure, such as making greater use of uncrewed and autonomous systems, are occurring only slowly. The vast bulk of investment is still going into small numbers of exquisitely capable yet extremely expensive crewed platforms that take years, even decades, to design and manufacture and are potentially too valuable to lose. Defence needs to take more risk and invest more than half of one percent of its budget in research and development, particularly in distributed, autonomous technologies.

The government has delivered the steadily increasing funding it promised at the start of 2016. That’s commendable, considering the economic impact of Covid-19. However, in the DSU, it also acknowledged that Australia’s strategic circumstances have deteriorated since 2016—yet Defence’s funding model hasn’t changed since then.

More funding is needed, but Defence will need to show that it can use it well to deliver capability rapidly. Over the decade, the government is providing $575 billion in funding to Defence, but in that time it won’t deliver a single new combat vessel. In short, Defence will need to demonstrate that it has absorbed and is acting with the sense of urgency presented in the DSU.

A final note that shows that part of the DSU’s intent is being realised. The DSU directed Defence to focus on our immediate region. As consequence, operations in the Middle East are drawing down and spending on operations is now at its lowest level since before the ADF deployed to Timor-Leste in 1999.

Budget 2021: Nation-building’s lost opportunities

The 2021–2022 federal budget focuses on ‘securing Australia’s recovery’ but it has accepted the assumptions of the past by limiting investment to road and rail infrastructure, not just for northern Australia but across all states and territories. For the Northern Territory, the budget provides just less than $347 million of federal funding for rail and road infrastructure and upgrades.

Elsewhere it’s a similar story. For northern Queensland there’s around $710 million of funding for ‘securing Australia’s recovery’ that just drops the region’s name into standard announcements of road or rail projects.

This lack of creative thinking also extends to investment for New South Wales, Victoria, the Australian Capital Territory, Tasmania and South Australia. For Western Australia, the recovery investments include $160 million for the WA Agricultural Supply Chain Improvements project—fancy words for more rail and road upgrades.

These commitments make great headlines. There’s no doubt they’ll support jobs and businesses, provide economic sugar hits and leave artifacts, but surely we can do better.

The new funding continues Australia’s longstanding fixation on investing in rail and road infrastructure, demonstrated by the federal government’s existing $110 billion investment in transport projects. At best it represents a 20th-century perspective of nation-building and infrastructure.

In November, ASPI’s John Coyne and I argued that nation-building for Australia’s north ‘requires vision, leadership, cooperation and courage in spades’. The answer is not a road or a rail line, and it isn’t a one-off project that generates short-term investment. Australia deserves more. Regional communities deserve more.

In March, I argued that nation-building is more than constructing highways and railways to connect our major cities. It’s about delivering long-term economic, social and environmental benefits, and ensuring that multiple challenges are solved along the way.

Cynics would say that nation-building doesn’t sit well within political agendas because of short-term thinking often driven by election cycles. The next federal election is due by May next year and the average length of federal parliamentary terms between 1990 and 2016 was just 32 months. All state and territory jurisdictions have fixed four-year terms so perhaps the time is right for the same at the federal level.

Having vision is one thing, but then committing to the long-term collaborative engagement required for modern nation-building is another.

What should modern nation-building look like? There are many examples but here are a couple.

In February, self-described serial tech entrepreneur Bevan Slattery outlined his vision for digital infrastructure in Australia with the announcement of HyperOne, his proposal for a 20,000-kilometre national fibre internet network. Slattery says HyperOne will cost $1.5 billion, create 10,000 new jobs during construction and connect with data hubs across Australia through a 10,000-terabit-per-second national fibre backbone. This investment will deliver hyperscale, secure and sovereign digital capability.

These are great benefits. Most importantly, this network will improve digital connectivity and performance for regional and remote communities through 1,000 on-ramps that will give neglected communities and remote areas cost effective access to high-speed internet.

This investment was hailed as the ‘largest private digital infrastructure project in Australia’s history’ and was welcomed by the Australian, NT and SA governments. HyperOne is now engaging with the National Broadband Network, the Northern Australia Infrastructure Facility as well as suppliers, partners and customers to progress the project.

This week, HyperOne and FiberSense announced that the hyperscale cable will detect physical impacts on it including those of excavators and animals or potential interference and interception. This capability will protect the physical asset and provide a higher level of security than is currently available.

It’s not just the vision or the private investment that is significant here—it’s the focus on improving the lives of ordinary Australians and the willingness to collaborate in solving a range of challenges.

Project Echo is another example of nation-building. In my March Strategist article I highlighted the NT government’s ‘Terabit Territory’ initiative aims to position the territory as a leader in telecommunications across Southeast Asia. The key enabler of this big thinking is subsea cable connectivity, through Project Echo, which will connect California with Singapore, Guam and Indonesia as well as Australia via Darwin.

A subsea cable branch into Darwin positions the city as Australia’s enhanced digital pathway into Southeast Asia, and when combined with HyperOne’s hyperscale national cable network, will drive sustainable economic, social and national security opportunities.

These initiatives aren’t only about fixing yesterday’s problems. They position Australia for today as well as the future.

It’s sobering when you hear Slattery say that ‘existing national transmission networks were built back when there was no YouTube, Netflix, social media, iPhones, or even cloud, let alone the future industries’.

The public sector needs to enable nation-building entrepreneurship through policy settings and investment decisions. The public sector cannot, and should never be, the innovator—that’s not its role, nor is it what we expect from the public service.

It’s time for governments, of all political persuasions, to show us the kind of vision and innovation that saw the building of the Snowy Mountains hydro and Ord River irrigation schemes. We don’t need carbon copies of these; we need their 21st-century equivalents.

Nation-building initiatives don’t happen overnight and shouldn’t be driven by short-term political imperatives to get money out the door. They’re underpinned by partnerships, collaboration and commitment to achieve mutual benefit through joint outcomes.

Post-Covid-19, collaboration is the new black, but we are out of practise. Sustainable nation-building requires us to go beyond short-term ‘sugar hit’ investment and relearn how to collaborate with persistence.