Antinuclear

When demanding a Royal Commission isn’t enough

9 January 2026 Michael Taylor , https://theaimn.net/when-demanding-a-royal-commission-isnt-enough/

For weeks Josh Frydenberg – and senior figures in the opposition – demanded a Royal Commission into the Bondi shootings. Their criticism of Prime Minister Albanese was relentless: he was accused of dithering, of failing to act decisively, of putting politics ahead of public safety and accountability.

The message was unambiguous. A Royal Commission was urgently needed, and the Prime Minister’s failure to immediately call one was presented as a serious dereliction of duty.

Then Albanese did exactly what he was accused of refusing to do. He called a Royal Commission.

What followed was not relief, nor support, nor even cautious endorsement. Instead, Frydenberg launched into a fresh round of criticism – this time over the Prime Minister’s choice of commissioner. The demand for action had been met, yet the outrage only intensified.

At this point, it is reasonable to ask: what, precisely, was Frydenberg seeking?

Royal Commissions are among the most serious instruments available in Australia’s democratic system. They are designed to establish facts, test evidence, and make recommendations independent of political pressure. When politicians demand them, they are effectively asking the government to hand over control of an issue to an arm’s-length process that cannot be directed once established.

In this case, Frydenberg’s behaviour suggests the Royal Commission itself was never the point. The point was the political leverage gained by accusing the government of inaction. Once that leverage evaporated – once the Prime Minister called the inquiry – the focus shifted immediately to delegitimising the process itself.

Frydenberg’s criticism of the appointed commissioner rests on the implication that the individual lacks credibility, independence, or suitability. But this raises an obvious question: if Frydenberg believes the commissioner is unfit, why was there no articulated standard beforehand? Why was the demand not for a Royal Commission led by a person meeting clearly defined, bipartisan criteria?

The answer appears uncomfortable but unavoidable. Any commissioner appointed by this government was always going to be unacceptable, regardless of credentials. The outrage is not conditional; it is structural.

This is where the episode drifts from political disagreement into something more corrosive. By first demanding a Royal Commission and then attacking its leadership the moment it is established, Frydenberg sends a contradictory message to the public: trust this process – unless the wrong people are running it.

That is not a healthy position for a major political actor to take, particularly in the aftermath of a tragedy. It risks turning an institution designed to uncover truth into a partisan battlefield before it has even begun its work.

The absurdity lies in the sequencing. The opposition, in unison with Frydenberg, argued that failing to call a Royal Commission was irresponsible. Now they imply that calling one – without their preferred appointee – is equally irresponsible. Under this logic, there is no scenario in which the government could have acted correctly.

It is worth pausing on what this means in practice. If every decision is wrong by definition, then criticism is no longer about improving outcomes or safeguarding integrity. It becomes performative – a reflex rather than a reasoned response.

This pattern is not new, but it is becoming more pronounced. Demands are made loudly and publicly, framed as matters of urgent national importance. When those demands are met, they are immediately reframed as failures, missteps, or evidence of ulterior motives. The standard is not excellence, but impossibility.

In the context of a Royal Commission into a violent public tragedy, that approach carries real risks. It encourages cynicism about the process before evidence is heard, witnesses are examined, or findings are made. It invites the public to see the inquiry not as a search for answers, but as another front in a political war.

None of this requires blind faith in the government or its appointments. Scrutiny is legitimate. Questioning decisions is part of democratic accountability. But there is a difference between scrutiny and pre-emptive sabotage.

If Frydenberg truly believes in the value of a Royal Commission, he should allow the process to function and judge it on its conduct and findings. If he does not, then he should be honest about that position rather than using the language of accountability as a political bludgeon.

Australians deserve better than a debate in which every outcome is framed as failure simply because it was delivered by the wrong side of politics. Royal Commissions are not toys to be thrown aside once they stop being useful.

If Frydenberg – and the opposition – demanded one in good faith, now is the moment to prove it.

January 13, 2026 - Posted by Christina Macpherson | politics