It’s a strange thing, watching the Australian election from the United States. I listened to Peter Dutton spruiking a fuel excise tax and Antony Albanese tax cuts of his own in the run up, and on the one level it all seems so small ball, so “Never Mind the Cost of Living Behind the Curtain.” And yet it sits in such stark relief the American situation, where we’ve spent three distinct elections over the last 10 years, and much of the time in between, dealing with a constant battery of verbal, emotional, social, and political insanity. No doubt there will be surprises of one kind or another in Australia in the next five weeks, as well as political maneuvering or rhetoric that at times has echoes of the chaos in my country. But in general right now it’s all tremendously reassuring to watch. I know it’s probably not the same for many reading this, but living in the hellscape that is America, Australian politics is my All Creatures Great and Small.
Having said that, it’s hard to be satisfied with where the ALP and LNP are starting. Annabel Crabb describes the tiny cash splashes both of the major parties are offering out of the gate as “shiny new chew toys,” something eye-catching, but with little meat on the actual bone. The fact is, the cost of living keeps rising, and not just because of inflation. The lack of housing, and housing that is affordable, has been a serious issue for decades at this point. And somehow, despite the fact that everyone has persistently acknowledged this as a serious, socially-destructive situation, it continues to worsen.
The same is true in the U.S., particularly in the big cities. The economic and social problems that our societies face require more than dog toys, measures that nibble like rabbits around the edges, or attempts to scapegoat vulnerable groups as a distraction—the civil service, migrants, and First Nations people here; in my country, trans people, the undocumented, universities, journalists, Democrats, and anyone who opposes government policy or Tesla.
No doubt the Shorten campaign of 2019 and the Voice referendum loom large over Labor’s strategizing. Big, bold visions for change and progress are exciting, but they don’t seem to win many elections. But a refusal to honestly address the economic issues affecting people, issues putting more and more strain on the cohesion of civil society also poses enormous jeopardy for both parties. It doesn’t matter how often Albanese and Dutton point to their origins as evidence of their battler status and concern for the poor and middle class, their silence when it comes to actual solutions makes them seem firmly in the camp of the wealthy few who aren’t feeling those strains (but are certainly ensuring or causing some of them). And buying million-dollar homes or consorting with the super-rich while others are enduring a devastating cyclone only underlines that impression. It’s no wonder that socially-minded independent candidates embedded in their local communities have done as well as they have and may very well continue to. Campaign platforms are value propositions. What value do parties have if their platforms are filled with distractions?
(Every time I hear a member of either party rail against the idea of minority government, I wonder at their astonishing sense of entitlement. The Teals represent the abject failure of the parties, not Australian democracy. What I wouldn’t give for the presence of independent politicians like them in the U.S., pushing up like wildflowers through the cracks in the shattered concrete of our two-party system, bringing fresh ideas and life.)
But the 2025 campaign is still very early days, and at the very least the ALP and the LNP are both nodding toward an economic agenda, if ever so slightly. Even just in the few days since I first wrote this piece, Anthony Albanese has proposed a raise in wages for lower-income workers. What can be said the logic of the American economic project at this point? The stock market is in chaos after President Donald Trump’s astonishing and bizarre announcement of even more, far more pronounced tariffs (including upon islands in the Antarctic inhabited by only penguins). The U.S. government seems in full Nero mode at this moment, actively intent on crashing the world economy and savaging its own people through a horrific cocktail of tariffs, deportations, mass firings, and fund withholding. To the extent that Donald Trump has an economic policy, it is situated entirely in personal terms. The world is to do what Donald wants, whether it’s pay him money, increase their defense spending, eliminate diversity and equity policies in their businesses, or stop doing research on anything related to gender. (Recent reports of Australian universities being told that they must prove they support American social policies on things like diversity or gender in order to continue to receive American money is an outrage.) And any refusal to do so or threat to respond in kind is an act of betrayal that merits financial punishment at a scale unseen in the modern era.
In a sense antiglobalism is a luxury of the extreme haves. But like a lot of luxury items (see: everything Trump has ever bought or sold) it's all smoke and mirrors really. Big or small, we all live in an interdependent world. Peter Dutton might rend his garments about immigration numbers or world climate change policy, but his antiglobalism can only be of a Choose from the Buffet variety, because Australia can’t “go it alone.” And really neither can anyone else.
I fear that the U.S. behavior could push other countries into a similar Every State for Itself mentality, which seems a recipe only for greater global suffering, particularly for the least powerful and most in need. But I wonder whether there isn’t a version of this nightmare in which the international community is strengthened because of Trump, the world’s nations more deeply united so as to support and protect their ways of life from our ever-extending unhinged fascist aggro.
Australia has plenty of its own domestic issues to talk about this election. And the thing about narcissists is, they just want you to talk about them. But I would hope the prime minister and opposition leader will be questioned at some point about the global situation. How do they plan to navigate in a world in which one of the most powerful nations seems to be collapsing in on itself like a bloated and cancerous black hole, and apparently intends to take with it everyone they can? Can they truly continue to support the idea of American troops on Australian soil or the purchase of American-made submarines when the U.S. government is insisting that Australian educators abandon their moral compasses to do their work and visiting Australian citizens are in danger of being put in detention? How will they avoid base capitulation to values that are more and more anti-Australian and anti-human?
These are impossible questions, I know. I think I just want to be assured that there is a way forward, that somebody somewhere has the capacity and the courage to insulate themselves from our chaos. Anthony, Peter, can you help me? Throw me a shiny chew toy, I don’t care. Just tell me, at least in Australia, it’s going to be okay. Because it sure doesn’t look that way over here.
Jim McDermott is an American culture critic and screenwriter.
Main image: Chris Johnston illustration