Steph Hodgins-May (Victoria, Australian Greens) Share this | Hansard source

I rise to speak on the Climate Change Amendment (Duty of Care and Intergenerational Climate Equity) Bill 2025. This is an issue that I've spoken on before and is, frankly, the main reason that I am in this place. It is an issue that is both painfully simple and yet dangerously ignored. The decisions that we make today must reflect the interests of the children who will inherit them. I say it again because it bears repeating: the decisions we make today must reflect the interests of the children who will inherit them. That is the plain logic behind the concept of a climate duty of care—that, when the government or its agencies approve projects that lock in emissions and risk long-term harms, they must explicitly consider the health and wellbeing of our youngest Australians.

Anjali Sharma, who is here in the chamber today, and other brave young Australians took their government to court and won. They showed that protecting young people from climate harm isn't just good policy; it's a moral duty. But what happened next says everything. The then environment minister, of all people, challenged that win. They argued in court that the government doesn't owe a duty of care to young people. Honestly, if that is not your core responsibility in this place, then what is?

Let's be honest for a moment about who's making decisions in this place. We are, on the whole, a chamber of gen X and boomers making choices that will be lived with for decades by people who are currently not old enough to cast a vote. Maybe if climate action came with a seniors discount, the government would finally act. The mismatch between decisions and their outcomes is extreme. I want to acknowledge and thank the young people who are actively fighting for the idea that children must be a mandatory consideration in the decisions that shape their lives well into the future.

The contents of this bill—to consider the health and wellbeing of young people in our climate decision-making—aren't radical. It's common sense, and it's the bare minimum that we can do for the next generation. In many areas of public policy we already require decision makers to consider how a proposal will affect people's health and wellbeing before approvals are granted. Health impact assessments are standard practice in planning and major project approvals. We ask businesses and governments to assess the likely impacts on local communities before we give projects the green light. So why should the climate and health of children be exceptional? Why is it somehow beyond the pale to insist that the youngest and least powerful members of society be considered when approvals will shape their lungs, mental health, food security and futures.

To digress for a moment, if we were actually serious about putting young people at the centre of decisions that will define their lives, then our democracy should actually let them have a say. Right now, too many of the choices that will shape schooling, housing, jobs and the climate are made in a chamber whose average age is decades older than those it most affects. The Greens have long argued that 16- and 17-year-olds should be allowed to vote because they work, they pay taxes and they study, and the right to cast a vote about their future is a natural extension of these responsibilities. This isn't an untested experiment. Countries from Austria to Scotland, from Brazil to Ecuador, already allow 16-year-olds to vote, and the evidence is clear. Studies of Scotland and other places show that giving people the vote at 16 increases political participation in young people and can reset engagement patterns for life. It reduces that gap in turn-out between younger and older voters. If we want young people to care about what we're doing in this place, the most straightforward step is to let them vote on it.

Voting age aside, imagine for a moment if the substance of this bill had been made the norm a long time ago by a government much bolder than this one. If this duty of care had been front of mind when decisions were made about the large fossil fuel projects, would we have extended the life of the North West Shelf to 2070? It's a facility that will burn gas into the lifetimes of our children and beyond, until my own son is in his 50s. If we were serious about giving our children a fighting chance, would we have perhaps set ambitious 2035 emissions reduction targets that actually move us towards a cleaner and safer future? Might we choose to reject the interests of fossil fuel companies raking in billions of dollars by pillaging our land and paying next to nothing in taxes? These questions are questions that a duty of care would force decision-makers to ask.

The harms we are trying to avoid are toxic, physical and psychological realities that young people are facing right now. Young people are already reporting higher levels of eco anxiety, distress and despair. Doctors for the Environment and medical groups across Australia have documented rising climate related mental health harms, particularly among young people exposed to repeated disasters, chronic uncertainty and the sense of an increasingly hostile future. This manifests as anxiety, depression, trauma and a growing burden on youth mental health services—and not far into the future; this is happening right now in our communities.

More frequent, more intense heat waves are causing hospitalisations and worsening chronic conditions in children. Heat stresses young bodies, worsens asthma and other respiratory illnesses, and increases emergency visits during extreme weather. Changes in climate patterns expand the range and seasonality of diseases. Droughts and extreme weather disrupt crops and food supply chains. Air pollution, including from fossil fuels, is linked to increased risks of cancer and chronic respiratory disease. Climate driven shifts in disease ecology, coupled with stressed health systems, increase the drivers of antimicrobial resistance. These aren't dreamed-up events that might impact fewer generations; they are measurable impacts on children and young people living today and on those soon to be born.

A duty of care simply nails what good public health requires. When the evidence shows a risk of harm to children, governments must act to avoid it. We are told sometimes that this would stifle development, hobble regional economies and put jobs at risk, but a duty of care is simply rebalancing an unfair equation—one that currently privileges industry, short-term profits and environmental destruction above health, wellbeing and long-term economic prosperity. A due duty of care insists that we balance short-term gain against long-term human costs. If a project cannot meet a test that protects children's health, then we must question whether its benefits truly outweigh its harms.

We must also acknowledge those who too often bear the brunt of these harms: First Nations young people here in Australia and the Torres Strait, as well as across Aotearoa and the wider Pacific region. These people are already living at the intersection of cultural loss, rising seas, food insecurity and widening health disparities. But these are also the people that are leading the fight for climate justice, and their leadership, knowledge and priorities must be central to any duty of care. Let's be very clear. While the voices of young people are too often dismissed, the fossil fuel industry is never ignored by the major parties in this place. These companies shower political parties with donations, and the revolving door between government and industry spins relentlessly. Almost every single former federal resources minister now works in the fossil fuel sector—shame! I ask this chamber: how much time do you all spend with young people in your electorates versus time on industry lunch invites, in boardrooms or in policy briefings with big corporations?

The fossil fuel industry also targets children directly, hiding behind so-called educational programs in schools that prime our kids for careers shackled to coal and gas, without ever telling them the truth of the climate legacy they'll inherit. If we are serious about protecting children's health and wellbeing, we must stop letting fossil fuel money and influence drown out their voices.

We also have obligations under international law. The International Court of Justice recently confirmed that states must respect and ensure the effective enjoyment of human rights by taking necessary measures to protect the climate system and other parts of the environment. Australia cannot ignore this responsibility. We need domestic laws that reflect these obligations, laws that enshrine a duty of care. The voices of Pacific youth are especially instructive. Vishal Prasad, when testifying before the International Court of Justice, said:

… if greenhouse gas emissions are not stopped, we are not just risking our future—we are welcoming its demise.

Lilly Teafa from Tuvalu recounted the horrors of Cyclone Pam:

Nine years ago, during Cyclone Pam on the island of Nui, I saw my 16-year-old cousin cuddling towards her mother's bones. I saw a mother cry out to the moana [ocean] searching for the corpse of her son.

Cynthia from the Solomon Islands reminded the court that those who stand to lose are future generations. Their future is uncertain, reliant upon the decision-making of a handful of large-emitting states who are responsible for climate change. These testimonies aren't pleas for pity; they are calls for fairness, justice and urgent action.

Finally, this is about honesty. Young people didn't create this mess, but it is young people who will inherit it. Yet, time and time again, they are asked to litigate, to protest and to bear the emotional labour of demanding action where adults in this chamber are failing. I want to take a moment to thank the young people around the world who are leading the fight for our planet—from Greta Thunberg in Sweden to Vanessa Nakate in Uganda and from Ridhima Pandey in India to the Pacific island students fighting climate change, as well as our very own Anjali Sharma—for their courage and clarity in fighting and in lighting a way forward. They aren't just protesting; they are demanding justice, accountability and a future that honours their right to live in a safe and thriving world.

I think of my own children and what future they're going to inherit. My seven-year-old son had the pleasure of seeing the Great Barrier Reef. Much of that coral is already bleached, and there's a very realistic chance that my two-year-old daughter will never see those bright colours and those gorgeous ecosystems. About a month ago I had the pleasure of meeting the next generation of climate activists here in Parliament House, hosted by the Australian Democracy Network. They know we do not have time for incremental change and that we need action in this place urgently. They know their existence relies on us all acting with that urgency, putting vested interests to one side and listening to their crucial voices in this debate—which shouldn't be a debate.

To those in the chamber who have children, I ask this: when you go home at the end of this sitting week and look your kids in the eye, will you be able to tell them that you've done absolutely everything you can to give them a safe, clean world to inherit? To do that, we need to act right now. We need to stare down the climate-wrecking polluters. We need to sideline the fossil fuel interests who crawl the halls of this parliament. We need to listen to and act for the young people who will inherit this beautiful but increasingly fragile planet Earth.

I'll finish where I began. This is common sense and simply the right thing to do. Young people get it. Climate action isn't optional; it's survival. Young people, you have led this movement with courage and clarity. Now it's time for us in this parliament to step up. Let's commit to a climate duty of care for you and for all of us.