After months skulking in its lair, the Frydenberg has smashed its way, totally uninvited and with fury, into our living rooms.
To be clear, the events at Bondi last month were totally abhorrent and the DBD in no way condones any hatred, violence, or for that matter, the opportunistic politicisation of grief. And to be fair, the Frydenberg, regardless of background, has every right to be furious and to voice an opinion.
Outrage – selectively applied
It’s the selectivity that’s breathtaking. The outrage is loud, polished, and camera-ready. Its outrage elsewhere? Deafening enough to be classified as a public health risk.
Because when it comes to suffering that can’t be easily funnelled into a culture-war talking point, the Frydenberg suddenly develops a condition known as Strategic Muteness Syndrome.
Gaza, for instance, a place currently experiencing industrial-scale human misery, has inspired roughly the same level of concern as a spreadsheet error in Treasury modelling. No moral thunder. Not even a thoughtfully furrowed brow.
Looks like the outrage, like fiscal responsibility, must be carefully rationed. Let’s have a look at the track record of the Frydenberg making a stand for good old ordinary people.
When banks needed accountability, the fury went missing
There was the royal commission into banking and finance. Something the Frydenberg and the coalition resisted for years until the political pressure became unbearable. Even then, once the commission finally exposed widespread misconduct, consumer abuse, and systemic rot, most of its recommendations were quietly parked, watered down, or left to decompose gently in a filing cabinet marked Too Hard / Donors Upset. All under the watch of the Frydenberg.
Robodebt – cruelty by spreadsheet
Then there’s Robodebt. An unlawful scheme that terrorised vulnerable and innocent Australians, issued hundreds of thousands of false debts, and contributed to immense financial stress, mental harm, and in some cases suicide. Remember, the Frydenberg was a top tier coalition minister at the time, who did nothing.
The Royal Commission described it as a catastrophic failure of public administration. Whilst the Frydenberg oversaw the huge settlement of tax payer money, no meaningful acknowledgement was made of the tremendous harm it caused. Not a flicker on the Frydenberg outrage meter.
Australians were hounded by Robodebt. Consumers were fleeced by banks. Entire communities overseas endure relentless suffering. These stories didn’t inspire the Frydenberg’s righteous fury.
Outrage as branding, not principle
The Frydenberg model of morality appears to work like this: if the issue threatens social cohesion in a way that polls well, activate full-blown fury mode. If it involves entrenched power, or allies, best to keep the emotions locked in a vault next to the empathy.
Outrage isn’t wrong. It’s necessary. But outrage that only points in one direction isn’t principle — it’s opportunism, it’s branding.
