The Fragility of Freedom in Australia
Advocacy for freedom in Australia often elicits a collective eye roll. It’s commonly met with dismissals like, “This isn’t America.” This sentiment runs deep in Australian culture, where even something as benign as Halloween, a tradition born of American culture, is deemed ‘too American’.
Why is it that Australians seem to value freedom less than Americans? The answer lies in history: we value things more when we have had to work for them. It’s like mastering a craft; when you’ve devoted yourself to learning and perfecting it, the skill becomes truly yours. But if it’s simply granted, it doesn’t carry the same weight. Americans and Australians tread vastly different paths and those differences have left an indelible mark on their respective cultures.
Americans fought a bloody revolution against the British Empire to secure independence, forging a national identity grounded in self-determination and skepticism of authority. Freedom in the U.S. wasn’t granted, it was won at great cost. The Revolutionary War began with British attempts to disarm the colonies in April 1775 and culminated in eight years of bloody conflict, with 25,000 American patriots and 30,000 British soldiers and mercenaries dead. Events like the Boston Massacre of 1770, the grassroots resistance of the Sons of Liberty, and the unified rattlesnake of the Gadsden Flag, all symbolized a fight for liberty that shaped the American psyche.
In the wake of these events, Thomas Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence, which was adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4, 1776, eloquently capturing the grievances of the colonists while envisioning a nation built on liberty. Americans’ fight for freedom left a legacy of cherishing individual rights, enshrined in their Constitution and Bill of Rights, that persists to this day.
In contrast, Australia’s road to freedom was far less costly. Established as a penal colony in 1788, Australia was governed autocratically, with little discontent over taxation, representation, or the issues that sparked rebellion in America. As settlers arrived, Britain gradually introduced autonomy, beginning with legislative councils in the 1820s and culminating in Federation in 1901. Unlike America, Australia’s independence was negotiated, not fought for.
This difference explains much about Australian attitudes toward freedom. Freedoms fought for, like anything hard-earned, are more deeply cherished. Australians, shaped by early reliance on government for land grants, convict rehabilitation, and social infrastructure, have traditionally valued security and collective benefit over rugged individualism. Their trust in authority runs counter to the American ethos of “Don’t Tread on Me.”
The psychology of freedom is universal: what we work hard for, we value deeply. This explains why the American Revolution left such a lasting imprint on U.S. culture. By contrast, nations like Canada and New Zealand, much like Australia, transitioned to independence without war, and their national identities similarly prioritize cooperation and collective interest over individualism. For Australians, the gradual conferral of self-governance by Britain created a sense of stability, but it lacked the emotional weight of a hard-won battle for liberty. As a result, the vigilance needed to protect individual freedoms has not been ingrained into Australian culture to the same extent.
These historical differences continue to resonate in contemporary issues. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Australia’s strict lockdowns and border closures were largely accepted, even celebrated, as collective acts of solidarity. In America, such measures sparked protests, lawsuits, and accusations of tyranny. The same divergence appears in debates over gun control, free speech, and government surveillance, issues where Australians often prioritize security while Americans champion individual liberties at all costs.
But Australians’ deference to authority has its risks. Rights in Australia are not constitutionally enshrined but exist at the whim of the government of the day. This lack of safeguards for individual liberties makes Australians vulnerable to government overreach, a vulnerability Americans, shaped by their Revolutionary history, are hardwired to resist.
To say Australians don’t value freedom is an oversimplification. Their freedoms are expressed differently—through universal healthcare, a strong social safety net, and a high quality of life. Yet this collective approach often masks the need for stronger individual rights. Where Americans view freedom as a shield against power, Australians see it as a framework for order. This isn’t inherently wrong, but it does leave Australians with fewer tools to push back when power goes unchecked.
The roads to freedom diverged for Australia and America, leaving indelible marks on their cultures. For Americans, freedom is sacred because it was fought for. For Australians, freedom has been a given, shaped by history and a gradual, unchallenged process. But should Australians rethink their relationship with freedom? History has shown that when freedom is neglected, it is also at risk. Perhaps it’s time for Australians to reconsider the cost of their collective trust in authority and what it means for individual liberties.