Andrew Wilkie (Clark, Independent) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Our country continues to be shaken by revelations of systemic and institutional abuse against women and children. Stories continue to surface in our childcare centres, our armed forces, our schools, our aged-care facilities and our homes. This fact should be deeply uncomfortable for us and a constant reminder that, while countless hours have gone into royal commissions, inquiries and strategies to end this epidemic of violence, we cannot afford to lose momentum.

For instance, in Tasmania, the inquiry into child sexual abuse in institutions laid bare a harrowing history of suffering. The testimony from victims-survivors, whistleblowers and advocates was courageous and confronting. Yet this issue and the resulting recommendations for change were noticeably thin on the ground in the lead-up to the recent 2025 Tasmanian election. It could be that the solutions are so universally agreed upon that it no longer needs public discussion, but history doesn't give me confidence, and the costs of complacency are much too high. Remember, as recently as 2024, police reporting showed 644 sexual assault cases and over 5,600 family violence incidents in Tasmania alone. We know, sadly, that cases like these are under-reported, so the true numbers are certainly even higher.

With all the inquiries, declarations and statements about ending violence against women and children within a generation, I think we are hopeful that, when someone finds the courage to speak out against violence in 2025, they would be met with support and care and that speaking up would mark the beginning of safety and healing. But, sadly, this is still often not the reality. Instead, victims-survivors confront systems that are ill prepared to receive them or, in fact, turn against them. For instance, income and child support systems become weaponised, and AI and digital technologies are used to track and harass. It is no wonder legal, counselling and emergency support services are increasingly stretched to breaking point in their attempt to simply meet demand.

Even in the here and now, I hear stories of women who spoke up but were then met with systems that are too often retraumatising, while young people under 18 often have no clear pathway whatsoever to seek help if they are experiencing domestic or intimate partner violence. The reality is that the systems and supports created decades ago for those seeking refuge or healing from violence are now under-resourced and overwhelmed by the growing demand, demand which is driven by welcome cultural awareness and societal change but which still needs corresponding investment. It is patently outrageous, for example, that women's legal service lawyers are paid less than lawyers in community legal centres. What's more, organisations are calling out for stability because, quite simply, to plan effectively and adapt their services, they require adequate funding and long-term contracts.

This need for long-term investment is especially urgent in Tasmania, which has the second-highest rate of sexual violence in the country yet receives the lowest state government funding contribution to domestic, family and sexual violence. Does the Tasmanian state government even understand the simple premise that healing cannot happen on scraps and good intentions? Clearly not. What's also needed is our schools, workplaces and institutions proactively reshaping the environments they operate in to support our most vulnerable. Institutional transparency and accountability is fundamental, and every level of government needs to work towards more flexible and adaptive systems. Moreover, every service that victims-survivors go to for support must be built on trauma informed practices and guided by lived-experience advocates.

Finally, we need to stop waiting for a crisis to motivate change. Surely, enough victims-survivors have shared their trauma already to ensure that we know how to improve the future. Surely, it's now the responsibility of all of us in power to transparently get on and relentlessly challenge misogyny, victim blaming and discriminatory practices wherever they thrive. Frankly, the burden and responsibility of reform needs to shift from victims-survivors. Yes, their voices and lived experiences must be central, but it's the job of decision-makers to take responsibility for driving structural reform and cultural transformation and restoring systems that have failed too many for far too long.