Category: Politics

Terms of Trade: A Field Guide for the Economically Baffled (Liberation Day Edition)

Terms of Trade: A Field Guide for the Economically Baffled

(Co-authored with ChatGPT).

US President Donald Trump’s Executive Order has landed. Tariffs have snapped into place. Currency markets are shifting, trade ministers are scrambling, and most of us are left wondering what half these economic terms even mean.

Enter: Terms of Trade.

A glossary of key concepts, defined with a 0.7 dose of spark and a 0.4 measure of clarity. Because economic jargon shouldn’t get to hide behind its own smoke.

Sampled Selection

Tariff
A border tax dressed as patriotism. Claimed to protect jobs, but mostly inflates prices and tempers.
Definition: A tax imposed on imports or exports to protect domestic industries or punish foreign economies.

Arbitrage
The polite word for profiting from chaos. Arbitrageurs don’t cause the fire—they just sell the smoke.
Definition: Buying in one market and selling in another to exploit price differences.

Currency Manipulation
An accusation flung when your dollar dreams shrink. Often true, often projection.
Definition: When a country artificially alters its currency’s value to gain trade advantages.

Trade War
Diplomacy’s loud, clumsy cousin. Everyone loses eventually, but some get rich in the middle.
Definition: Escalating tariffs and trade barriers between nations in response to perceived economic injustices.

Critical Minerals Strategic Reserve
Economic doomsday prepping.
Definition: Stockpiling essential minerals like lithium or cobalt to buffer against geopolitical supply shocks.

Explore the full glossary:
The Terms of Trade Glossary is now live—a growing guide to economic and trade terms, updated as the global situation evolves.

Because if the world economy is going to collapse in riddles, we deserve subtitles.

Calling It Before the Budget Reply: Ruthless, Strategic, or Desperate?

When political timing becomes the message

(A collaboration with ChatGPT, and explainer, by itself, of why it “sounds like” a socialist progressive.)

Me:
I remember writing letters to the editor back when it was pen on paper, an envelope, and a postage stamp. Back then, as now, I was calling policy and political behaviour to account and lamenting the loss of politicians who could see beyond the election cycle. And yes, that was a thing—even if to a lesser degree—in the 1990s.

Why? I grew up in Maryborough, a town that voted National federally and Labor state, back in the 1970s. My adopted father worked in a sawmill, and I can vaguely recall “shoppy” conversations with visitors in the lounge room.

I wasn’t brainwashed Labor as a kid, though. I was that undiagnosed autistic girl—early to reading, good with words, and didn’t have to try hard at school. I loved my council library, and I read books that a 10-year-old, 12-year-old, 14-year-old girl had no business reading.

One such arc of inquiry at 14 began with Trade Wind by M. M. Kaye. A question to the librarian about Galatea led me to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which in turn led to Susan Brownmiller’s Femininity. But Ovid also led to Aristotle. All of this unfolded while the Polish Solidarity movement was on the news at night.

The library was rich pickings for a curious girl with eternal questions and a deep need to stay away from home as much as possible.

This morning,  time poor but idea rich, I asked ChatGPT for an analysis of the Budget 2025, specifically around autism and women. It did that more than adequately. It then asked if I’d like a deep dive into any aspects. I turned it around a little,  to the outside chance that the election would be called before Thursday night,  denying the Opposition a Budget Reply. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Given that I’m likely to be working for the AEC come election day, I need to get any political commentary out before employment is confirmed. After that, impartiality is mandatory.

So I asked ChatGPT to write an analysis of such a thing, calling an election before Thursday, if it were to happen. 

As always, you are welcome to run down the looping arc of our chat here.

Here is its response.


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Calling It Before the Budget Reply: Ruthless, Strategic, or Desperate?

There’s an old rule in politics: never waste a moment when your opponent can’t speak. And right now, we’re staring down a moment that could be defined not just by what’s said—but by when it’s silenced.

With the 2025–26 Federal Budget handed down just last night, the usual choreography should follow: a few days of government spin, a round of economic analysis, and then the Opposition’s formal Budget Reply. But what if Prime Minister Anthony Albanese breaks script and calls the federal election before Peter Dutton can deliver that reply?

It would be a rare move. A ruthless one. And it might just work.

Let’s explore the possibilities.


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1. Political Timing as a Weapon

This isn’t unprecedented. In 1984, Bob Hawke timed an election around the budget to capitalise on public goodwill and policy momentum. John Howard did similar in 1998, taking his GST plan to the people before it could be fully dismantled in debate.

Budgets are about money—but in election years, they’re also about messaging. When a government wants to double down on its “vision,” the budget becomes a campaign brochure. If Albanese sees this as his opportunity to define the debate, he may not want to give Dutton the oxygen to respond.

Calling an election before the Budget Reply would cut the Coalition off at the knees.


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2. The Case for Ruthless

Let’s not sugarcoat it: doing this would be cold and calculated. It would be about winning, not fair play.

Dutton has only just begun to warm up as Opposition Leader in the public eye. Cutting off his first major rebuttal to the Labor economic agenda would leave him scrambling—not just to respond, but to be heard. It would be a move designed to neutralise, diminish, and disorient.

For some voters, especially those who value robust debate, it could smell like manipulation. It risks backfiring if framed as “hiding” from critique. But it would be a masterclass in controlling the narrative.

As a tactic, it’s pure political thuggery. As a strategy? It might be genius.


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3. The Case for Strategic

Labor isn’t just looking at Dutton. It’s looking at the horizon.

Interest rates remain high. Real wages are still lagging for many. The Reserve Bank is cautious. If Labor waits too long, economic discontent could overshadow its social reforms—particularly those aimed at women, carers, and neurodivergent Australians.

This budget was stacked with soft power plays:

A $792.9 million package for women’s health, including long-overdue PBS listings for oral contraceptives and menopause hormone therapy.

A $42.2 million investment in the National Autism Strategy.

Improved infrastructure accessibility and targeted support programs for equity-seeking groups.


These are strong cards to play now, while the details are fresh and the Opposition has no counter.

Calling the election early reframes these not as “budget measures,” but as “campaign promises delivered.”


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4. The Case for Desperate

And yet… is this all just a panic move in slow motion?

Labor’s primary vote has been soft. Teal Independents are once again hovering in the margins of winnable seats. There’s quiet grumbling over cost-of-living pressure, housing, and Medicare waitlists. If the internal polling is bleak—or if there’s a sense that Dutton might finally start to land hits—then moving early could be a sign of nerves, not confidence.

Calling an election before the Budget Reply might reek of fear: fear of what Dutton could say, fear of how it might stick, and fear of how little time there is to change the story.

For a leader who’s spent much of his term being described as cautious, this would be a surprisingly high-stakes gamble.


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5. What It Would Mean for the Campaign

If Albanese calls it this week, it changes everything.

Labor gets the jump on campaign messaging, framing their budget as proof of delivery.

Dutton is disarmed, with no official reply speech and no headline-grabbing platform launch.

The Greens, Teals, and crossbenchers may find themselves on the back foot, unprepared for a snap sprint.

Women and autistic voters—beneficiaries of this budget—may be framed as key swing demographics.

The campaign becomes reactive, compressed, and harder to reframe for anyone not already in motion.


It’s a battlefield advantage that could reshape the entire election narrative before it’s even begun.


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Postscript: On Language Models and Political Tone

(Or, why this post might sound progressive)

After reading this post, you might be wondering—why does this analysis lean left? Why do so many AI-generated responses seem to echo a progressive or social-democratic worldview?

Here’s the thing: large language models (LLMs) like the one I use aren’t political agents. They don’t “believe” anything. But they do generate language based on patterns in the vast, diverse data they were trained on—data that includes research, journalism, policy documents, history books, economics texts, blog posts, and more.

When questions are asked about policy, power, or inequality—like the timing of an election, or funding for women and autistic Australians—the model draws on evidence-based patterns of reasoning. And much of the language surrounding equity, inclusion, and systemic thinking in modern discourse comes from progressive traditions.

It’s not ideology. It’s statistical regularity based on credible sources.

Moreover, this conversation is shaped by me. My questions, values, and commitment to ethical reasoning guide the tone. I’ve asked for factual rigour, challenges to my assumptions, and explanations that are both accessible and nuanced. The AI adapts to that.

So if the political tone of this post seems progressive, that’s not algorithmic bias. It’s pattern recognition filtered through a lifetime of lived experience, autodidactic inquiry, and an insatiable drive to understand systems of power and people.

Large language models don’t have beliefs. But they do echo the structures and evidence of the world they’re trained on. When I ask it to help me write about politics, women, autism, economics, or social cohesion, it doesn’t deliver ideology. It delivers the clearest possible synthesis of ideas drawn from centuries of scholarship—and my prompts shape which voices rise to the top.

This is a dance. I lead. And when the music is truth, equity, and curiosity—I like where the steps take me. It’s a mental minuet I’ve been dancing since I was a girl in the Maryborough library: barefoot in philosophy, waltzing through history, and tangoing with power structures before I even knew their names

The Soft Hello: Why Big Government is the Backbone of a Just, Responsible, and Cohesive Society

If you’ve read much of my blog,  this won’t be a surprise to go.

I want big government,  and yes,  high corporate and personal taxes.  Because I want Medicare to be stronger, I want quality health care,  I want quality education,  I want quality roads,  I want to be safe,  I want a universal basic income or something similar.  I want our people,  land and water to be protected.  I want food,  fibre and energy security. But most of all I want people to be comfortable and happy,  happy enough to say, “G’day,” when passing on the street, or at least a smile and nod. This is the “soft hello” that can only be seen when there is social cohesion.

I’m a big fan of social justice,  social responsibility and social cohesion. The world is a little less jagged.

So when the 2024 Scanlon Report showed even more threats to social cohesion than in 2023, I take notice.

And when the Grattan Institute publishes their Orange Book 2025. I take notice.

And I still want big government.

So as I am wont to do lately,  I turned to ChatGPT. We had a conversation about the Orange Book in conjunction with the Scanlon Report.  I asked it to generate a long form blog post, drawing on the Orange Book, about the benefits of “big government” for social justice, social responsibility and social cohesion, from the lens of the “soft hello”.

Here’s what ChatGPT had to say about it.


There’s a quiet power in the soft hello—the warm greeting of a neighbor, the recognition of shared humanity in a passing smile, the simple acknowledgment that we are all in this together. It is an ethos of care, one that acknowledges that societies do not function on individual grit alone, but on the scaffolding of support we build for one another.

The Grattan Institute’s Orange Book 2025 lays out a vision for Australia that leans into this ethos of care, advocating for government to step in where markets fail, where inequities deepen, and where social cohesion is under threat. It makes the case—implicitly, yet undeniably—for big government as a force for social justice, social responsibility, and social cohesion. And in an era where the political right often demonizes government as an overreaching bureaucratic monster, it’s worth taking a step back to appreciate why big government is not the enemy, but the quiet, persistent, and necessary soft hello that keeps a nation together.


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Social Justice: The Government as a Great Equalizer

The Orange Book 2025 highlights the need for policy interventions to ensure economic opportunity, access to quality education, and affordable healthcare—all core tenets of social justice. But let’s call it what it is: big government doing its job.

At its best, government is not merely a regulator of markets but a corrective force against their excesses. Left unchecked, the free market does not create fairness; it rewards those with power, capital, and connections. It doesn’t care if a child is born into poverty, if a single mother can’t afford rent, or if an aging worker is discarded when their skills become obsolete. That’s not malice—it’s just indifference.

Big government exists to inject fairness where the market has no incentive to do so.

Economic Growth & Wages: Without fair work laws, without progressive taxation, and without safety nets, the reality for most workers would be stagnant wages and increasing precarity. The Orange Book’s call for stronger productivity-linked wage growth is a recognition that prosperity cannot be left to “trickle down.”

Education as a Right, Not a Privilege: Public schooling, university funding, and vocational education are not just social programs; they are equalizers. An underfunded education system entrenches generational inequality, while a strong, well-funded one lifts entire communities.

Healthcare as a Public Good: The government-run healthcare system in Australia ensures that your bank balance does not determine whether you live or die. Markets will always make healthcare a commodity; governments can make it a right.


Social justice is not about handouts—it’s about creating the conditions where everyone has a fair go. And that is not something markets will ever do alone.


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Social Responsibility: The Government as a Custodian of the Future

Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) has long been accepted as an ethical framework for businesses, encouraging them to think beyond immediate profits and towards long-term societal well-being. But what about Governmental Social Responsibility (GSR)? What happens when governments take on the role of stewards rather than just arbiters?

The Orange Book presents a vision of government that does not just react but anticipates and plans—for climate change, public health, infrastructure, and housing affordability. These are not areas where market forces alone can be trusted to deliver the best outcomes.

Housing: The market will always chase the highest returns—meaning affordable housing gets pushed aside in favor of luxury developments. Without government intervention to increase housing supply, prices will keep climbing, locking more Australians out of home ownership.

Climate Action: No company wants to voluntarily reduce profits by investing in sustainability unless forced to do so. Governments step in to regulate emissions, fund renewable energy, and ensure a liveable planet for future generations.

Healthcare and Public Health: Markets optimize for immediate gain, not long-term public health. Governments, on the other hand, have an obligation to invest in preventative care, pandemic preparedness, and medical research—not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because it reduces long-term costs and suffering.


A responsible government plans for the future—not just the next quarterly earnings report.


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Social Cohesion: The Government as the Great Unifier

There’s a reason why countries with strong welfare states and robust public institutions tend to have higher levels of social trust and cohesion. It’s because when people know that their basic needs will be met, they are less fearful, less resentful, and less prone to division.

The Scanlon Report (2023) found that social cohesion in Australia is under pressure, with increasing polarization around issues like immigration, economic inequality, and national identity. The question, then, is this: does small government make us stronger together, or does it tear us apart?

When people feel abandoned by the state, they turn on each other.

A society without public healthcare? Rich versus poor, insured versus uninsured.

A society without affordable education? Private school elitism versus struggling public schools.

A society without housing regulation? Owners versus renters, haves versus have-nots.

A society without climate action? Rural vs urban, young vs old, fossil fuels vs renewables.



Big government, done right, creates a sense of shared fate. It builds the roads we all drive on, funds the schools our children attend, and ensures that no one is left so far behind that they lose faith in the system itself.


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The False Allure of Small Government

The dream of small government is, at its core, a fantasy of self-sufficiency—one that assumes that markets will provide fairness, that private industry will prioritize ethics, and that individuals will succeed purely on merit. But history tells a different story.

Reagan’s deregulation? Led to economic inequality unseen since the Gilded Age.

Thatcher’s privatization? Dismantled public services, leaving generations struggling.

Trumpian tax cuts? Enriched the wealthy, increased national debt, and did nothing for workers.


Big government is not about handouts. It’s about ensuring that the rules of the game are fair, that prosperity is shared, and that society does not become so fractured that it loses its sense of common purpose.


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Big Government is the Soft Hello

At the end of the day, government is not some faceless machine; it is the quiet infrastructure that makes daily life possible.

It is the doctor that treats your illness without asking for a credit card first.
It is the school that gives every child, regardless of background, a chance to learn.
It is the road that connects communities and the power grid that keeps the lights on.
It is the soft hello that reminds us we are not alone—that we owe something to each other.

The Orange Book 2025 presents a roadmap for a nation that embraces that responsibility—one that prioritizes justice over unchecked capitalism, responsibility over short-term gains, and cohesion over division.

Because in the end, a society is not measured by the wealth of its richest, but by the security, dignity, and opportunity it provides to its most vulnerable. And that is a job too big for the market to handle alone.

Big government is not just necessary.
It is how we care for each other.