A lack of meaningful context makes discussions of Australia’s foreign and national security policy too uninteresting or difficult for many young Australians to understand. This works against the long-term development of a public mandate for Canberra to spend, risk and do more to defend Australia.
What can and should the Australian government do about this?
A big part of the solution lies in the government communicating more clearly and often with young Australians about our deteriorating strategic circumstances. World War II analogies only go so far with this cohort – more creative and proactive approaches are required to cut through.
As a parent of a 15-year-old who is interested but has not studied international politics or Australia’s place in the world through his public schooling, I see much potential for big gains in tertiary education.
Many young Australians looking at current media reporting on Australia’s defence acquisition and sustainment challenges wonder why such acquisitions are necessary, but they are too afraid to ask. Where can they go for more information on the threats to Australia’s sovereignty and democracy that warrant such acquisitions? Beyond the Strategist and other platforms like it, the options are limited.
What we need is a national curriculum for year 8 to year 10 students that teaches Australia’s place in the world and the patterns shaping international events. Young Australians would appreciate this more than we think, and it would serve several cross-cutting purposes if done well.
What would it entail?
To cut through, it would need to be less about history and more about the world young Australians are entering. It would need to be less about describing how Australia’s system of government functions and more about why it is worth preserving and what exactly threatens to undermine it.
It should also introduce the concept of deterrence, in terms of hard power as well as the importance of maintaining national cohesion and psychological resilience. When senior ministers talk about deterrence, very few Australians understand what is meant by it. That must change.
The curriculum would need to be interactive and dynamic, involving simulations, gaming and exposure to the real-world experiences of current foreign policy and defence officials. Select students could be given an opportunity to travel to Canberra and participate in more intensive courses on subjects of interest.
Perhaps most difficult of all, it would need to openly acknowledge the permanency of the China challenge and explain to young minds in the clearest possible terms the deep structural misalignment between China’s long-term strategic interests and ours.
In a hotly contested digital world, there is inherent value in equipping young Australians with a genuine curiosity about the world around them built on a sound basis of knowledge.
That foundational understanding not only helps to safeguard them against disinformation, but it also encourages them to think critically and engage in public debate as they transition to adulthood.
This is the basis of a healthy national-security discourse in Australia, one in which open debate on questions such as the benefits of self-reliance versus active collective deterrence is possible and useful.
We are currently a long way from that. Canberra, like other governments, is limited by the fact that foreign and defence policy does not always lend itself to clear storytelling. For better or worse, this makes people lose interest and switch off.
From mushroom killers to Russell Crowe catching a stray tennis ball at the French Open, there is always something to distract us from the slow burning battle between China and the United States for the 21st century.
It will take time and sustained focus to produce tangible results, but getting more young Australians more interested and involved in the changing world around them is worth the effort.