First, I do want to send my love and support to Helen; her husband, Phil; her family; her staff; and the Indi community. We are thinking of you, Helen, and we really do look forward to seeing you back here when you're able. I also want to acknowledge the extraordinary efforts of the first responders, including members of Helen's community, who rushed to her aid, putting themselves in danger at the same time.

Regardless of the motive, what happened to Helen was a senseless act of violence that will change her life forever. In the days since the tragedy, we've witnessed an extraordinary outpouring of compassion, care and solidarity. As the Prime Minister said, that's the Australian spirit. In our darkest moments, we reach for each other. We rally around those who are hurting. We give each other a hug. Anyone who knows Helen knows she's thoughtful, she's respectful and she's deeply considerate. She's not inflammatory. She's not divisive. She's calm, compassionate and committed to serving her community. Yet, this happened here in Australia, not somewhere overseas.

As parliamentarians, we know public service comes with risks. What I did not expect when I became an MP was the scale of abuse directed at elected representatives online. On the street, in face-to-face discussions, most people engage respectfully even when they disagree—why?—because most people are decent people. But there are also some social guardrails that pull us all up when we start straying. Online, those guardrails disappear.

The threats, misogyny and intimidation are relentless as an MP. In the last month alone, approximately 10,000 such comments were filtered from my account. Others get a lot more than that. While some caution against framing this as a women's issue, we cannot ignore the reality that women in public life experience abuse differently and disproportionately. We must be honest and we must call it what it is. We must also recognise that abuse is not just directed at those in this place. Police, paramedics, teachers, shop workers—they're seeing increasing levels of violence.

As many have done over the last few days, I've reflected further on where we are as a society. First, I worry about our growing desensitisation to empathy. We consume an endless stream of content where conflict and hostility are normalised. Behind a screen it's easy to forget there might be a real person on the other side. Do people think about, and do they truly understand, the impact of their words, the cumulative harm caused by thousands of messages that are designed to intimidate, humiliate and dehumanise? It's hard to even fathom some of the comments that have flooded our accounts since last week, and I certainly won't repeat them.

Then there's the rabbit hole effect. Tech companies and their algorithms are increasingly feeding people more of what provokes anger, resentment, fear and division. They reinforce insecurities, they amplify grievances and they reward outrage. They trap vulnerable people inside echo chambers where negative beliefs are constantly validated and extreme views become normalised. One example is the manosphere, a network of online communities focused on men, masculinity, gender roles, dating and relationships. Here, toxic masculinity flourishes unchecked, resentment towards women is cultivated, and some men are pushed towards increasingly extreme worldviews.

A second concern is social disconnection. Too many people are isolated. Some know it; others don't even recognise it. Many people work from home. They socialise online. They spend increasing amounts of time disconnected from their communities and, frankly, their families. Genuine human interaction is being replaced by digital interaction. Catch-ups at the pub or the club, a walk in the park, a play date and a family dinner are easily substituted or interrupted. When we lose those real-world connections, we lose opportunities that challenge unhealthy thinking, that develop empathy and that enable us to keep perspective and simply feel part of being a part of our crew.

That brings me to my third reflection: mental health. We are seeing rising levels of ill health across our communities. These are just some of the fault lines running through our society, and they demand our attention. As leaders, we must lead by example and turn the temperature down. Disagreement isn't the problem. Democracy requires disagreement. What democracy and societies cannot survive is the erosion of respect, the dehumanisation of opponents and the belief that abuse and violence are an acceptable substitute for debate and for unity. If there is something good to come from this, it's the opportunity to make this country better. Phil spoke about this so eloquently this morning, and his message was one of hope and a call for leadership and genuine change. This requires leadership from all corners of our community, starting in our homes, our schools, our community spaces and our workplaces and in this place.

Helen, lastly, to you: while your natural instinct is to focus on others, it's time to focus on you. It no doubt will be a tough road ahead. I hope you feel the strength from all of us in here and across Australia, and I hope that helps reduce the load just a little.

Sitting suspended from 13:47 to 14:00