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How should health organisations and advocates respond to One Nation?

Should health organisations and advocates engage with One Nation in efforts to influence their policy platforms and statements?

Edwina Pearse, a communications strategist specialising in health, advocacy and social change, considers the issues at stake.


Edwina Pearse writes:

I’ve seen some online discussion among public health colleagues and advocates in recent weeks suggesting that One Nation’s wafer‑thin health policy presents a strategic opportunity.

The argument is that if we, in the health sector, learn to speak the language of grievance more fluently, we can occupy the space around it and call it advocacy.

That line of thinking worries me. This is not another messaging problem. It is about what we are willing to normalise.

There are times when the job is not to find common ground with an idea, but to make the case against it. That requires a willingness to say that some things are worth pushing back against.

We should pay attention to the frustrations that draw people towards One Nation. Many people look at the systems around them and see long waits for services, rising costs and barriers that seem to grow rather than shrink. It is not hard to understand why that breeds anger and disappointment.

Those experiences matter and deserve a serious response, but there is a difference between responding to frustration and engaging with the politics that thrives on grievance.

In the Australian context, that politics does not simply emerge from community frustration. It draws on a long history of white supremacy and racialised exclusion, even as it harnesses contemporary grievances.

When a party builds its appeal on resentment and suspicion of basic public health safeguards, the answer is not to edge closer and hope we can shape the outcome.

What’s at stake

We need to be honest about where those ideas lead. They produce more confusion, weaken the systems people rely on, and normalise racism and discrimination. They deepen the exclusion of already marginalised communities and erode fundamental rights.

Of course, we should still engage with people who feel drawn to One Nation, but we can do that without lending credibility to narratives that undermine trust in vaccination, Medicare and other essential public health services.

People do not lose faith in institutions because they hear the wrong message. They lose faith when their lived experience tells them the system is not delivering. That reality demands attention, reform and a willingness to confront what is not working, without mistaking anger for a solution.

Any strategy also has to begin with the rights and safety of First Nations people and others targeted by One Nation’s rhetoric and policies. Some communities are placed at far greater risk when racism, scapegoating and the deterioration of rights are treated as just another strand in the political conversation, and it is vital that our advocacy reflects that truth.

This is bigger than health policy. It is about the kind of country we want to be. Whether we respond to uncertainty by turning against one another, or by strengthening the institutions and shared commitments that hold us together.

We don’t need to become a softer version of someone else’s argument. We need to make a stronger case for our own.

Postscript

The publication of a version of this article on LinkedIn last week prompted discussion across parts of the public health sector and led me to think more carefully about how we define success.

Some colleagues described a sense of relief at seeing their unease named and others argued that grievance-based messaging can be a powerful way to secure policy changes.

These exchanges raised difficult questions about whether engagement with parties that trade in division and discrimination can be separated from validating their platform, and about the impact on reproductive healthcare, vaccination and other public health safeguards when resentment starts to influence advocacy.

Much of our work is aimed at informing public debate, steering policy and building support for change. It is understandable, then, that signs of traction with political parties like One Nation can be appealing, whether they appear in a policy document, a press release, or in evidence that an idea has travelled beyond its original audience.

I keep returning to a different question. What are we prepared to count as progress?

For some voters, parties such as One Nation offer not so much a policy program as a vehicle for grievance and retaliation. That should sharpen our discomfort with treating recognition from that part of the political spectrum as evidence that our work is achieving its intended good.

What unsettles me most is how quickly the present moment can come to be treated as fixed. Before One Nation has even been tasked with the responsibilities of governing, its rise is already being framed as inevitable.

The constant churn of media and social platforms can amplify that perception until it seems far larger, and far more permanent, than it is in reality. In our effort to remain part of the conversation, we risk reinforcing a political dynamic that ultimately harms the very people our work is intended to support.

To be honest, I am not convinced this assumed inevitability is the right place to begin.

Public advocacy is not only about responding to the world as it is. It is also about shaping the world we want.

We are not bystanders in that story. This is not simply about how we respond if parties such as One Nation gain greater prominence; it’s about whether our actions make that outcome more or less likely.

Advocacy is not a contest for attention, nor is it measured by how often our work is cited by candidates seeking office. Its purpose is to improve people’s lives. Any judgement about effectiveness must ultimately be weighed against that objective.

That means paying attention to what is being strengthened, what becomes easier to say or do, and what becomes harder. For organisations working alongside communities that already experience discrimination, exclusion or unequal access to care, these are not abstract matters. They carry real consequences.

I do not pretend there are easy answers. Reasonable people will draw the line in different places, and that is to be expected.

What matters is that we remain clear about the purpose of the work. The question is not whether we were noticed or welcomed into the tent. It is whether we stood up for what mattered.

Author details

Edwina Pearse is a communications strategist specialising in health, advocacy and social change. Over more than two decades, she has worked with organisations including Cancer Council Victoria, Quit and the Australian Medical Association, helping turn complex evidence into campaigns that shape public understanding and influence decision-making. She is co-founder of Jackson Pearse Policy and Communications and a frequent collaborator with For Purpose, advising health and for-purpose organisations across Australia.


Previously at Croakey


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