The end of 2025 and the beginning of 2026 have been unusually distressing and exhausting.
Across the world – from Iran, Gaza, Ukraine and Venezuela, to Minnesota and the United States more broadly, and closer to home – from the antisemitic terrorist attack in Bondi, to the uninviting of Australian-Palestinian writer Randa Abdel-Fattah from the Adelaide Writers’ Festival, alongside an increasingly unstable climate marked by bushfires and flash flooding.
It’s been a lot for any of us to process and still feel okay.
Not sure about you, but I haven’t felt okay at all for several weeks now. There’s a heaviness that’s hard to shift.
We are being confronted daily with distressing events, polarising rhetoric, and pressure to pick a side quickly and loudly.
In moments like this, trust in democratic institutions matters more than ever.
They are not perfect, but they are worth defending and strengthening – so they work better, serve people fairly, and protect the freedom for all to participate in democratic life.
That strengthening doesn’t come from shouting past one another or collapsing complex issues into slogans. It comes from staying in the hard conversations, listening more than we speak, protecting free speech and the right to protest, and having the courage to make thoughtful, evidence-informed decisions rather than chasing headlines, outrage cycles, or political point-scoring.
That’s especially true when it comes to hate speech and hate laws.
We need to be very clear about what we are trying to achieve – and just as honest about the unintended consequences that can flow from poorly designed or rushed legislation, particularly where it intersects with protest, political opinion, artistic expression, academic debate, and cultural spaces.
Importantly gun buybacks and hate laws should not be bundled together. They are distinct issues, affecting different communities, raising different risks, and requiring different policy responses. Each deserves its own careful process, its own timeline, and genuine consultation with those most affected.
Whether we’re talking about global conflict, violence in our communities, terrorist attacks, cultural boycotts, or the boundaries of lawful speech, democracy is weakened when fear drives law-making -and strengthened when care, clarity, compassion, and restraint guide it.
We should be asking ourselves: What Australia are we creating through these laws? Is this what we intend? Will this serve us now – and future generations?
At a time when the world feels louder, faster, and more brittle, we need politics that slows things down, asks better questions, and holds the line on democratic principles – even when that work is uncomfortable.
And we need to do this for ourselves as human beings too: slow down, breathe, and hold close those we love. We cannot take our luck in this country for granted. We must continue to build it – build our future – and bring communities together as we do so.
Open, honest and compassionate politics: conversation by conversation.
