What Australia Leaves Out by Nuala Weening

After dozens of tentative introductions and polite small talk during the first semester, phrases like “What’s your name?” and “Where are you from?” remain engraved in my mind. Had they not already guessed from my accent, I would smile and respond: Australia. Almost invariably, the next question would follow: “Why would you leave?”

The Australia in people’s minds is idyllic – perfect, even. A never-ending Summer of scorching beach days, crackling campfires, and the smell of sizzling barbecues, where kangaroos hop freely on the horizon and two blokes cheer “Fair Dinkum” over their stubbies. Often, as I layer on my fourth sweater or endure the Kruidvat worker’s callous stare, I find myself missing Australia. I long for the melody of whipbirds, kookaburras, and butcherbirds performing their morning chorus, for the open, warm hello’s and how-are-you’s that punctuate my walks through town. I reminisce about the humidity that hits like a slap on the face, about sticky sand between my toes and salty water in my hair. I crave the hiss of cicadas, the wink of midnight constellations, the metallic twang in the air before a summer storm.

In truth, however, beneath the beaches and banter, under the humor and humidity, I began to wonder whether Australian culture is more performance than substance. The laidback lifestyle and chilled vibes seem to mask a lack of depth, perpetuating a national identity built on little more than piss ups and Friday night sport.

The relaxed “she’ll be right” mentality has its downfalls: excel too much, aim too high, or – God forbid – show pride in an accomplishment, and one is met with subtle jabs or comments of “try-hard,” or “cringe,” dismissed as a joke rather than recognized as a lack of support. According to A/Prof Milad Haghani, this phenomenon, known as “Tall Poppy Syndrome,” describes a “tendency to drag down those who set themselves above others.” While some may argue it reflects values of humility and equality, the punishment of ambition inevitably risks cultivating mediocrity. 

It raises an uncomfortable question: in a society underscored by the subconscious suppression of growth, how can depth be gained? Throughout Europe, thinkers like France’s Michel Foucault and Germany’s Albert Einstein, or talents like the Netherlands's Rembrandt van Rijn, are revered and honored, set forth with national pride. Australia, by contrast, exports a different kind of archetype: one effectively embodied by Crocodile Dundee: emotionally restrained, rugged and self-reliant, admired more for brawn and guts than brains or art.

 I began to wonder whether Australian culture is more performance than substance.

The celebration of this archetype also reveals who is left out: namely, the marginalized Indigenous Australian community, who, while having been the traditional custodians of the land for over 40.000 years, are consistently erased or sidelined within mainstream culture. This exclusion is particularly highlighted by the nation’s most iconic holiday – Australia Day – which purports to celebrate “Australianism” through cheap plastic flags and backyard barbecues. Held annually on January 26, the day commemorates the 1788 landing of the First Fleet at Sydney Cove, or, in other words, the beginning of Indigenous dispossession, suffering, cultural erasure, and colonialism. 

The inevitable discourse surrounding the day further emphasizes the disregard for Indigenous perspectives. Calls to change the date, or to name it “Invasion Day,” are often undermined by claims that tradition must be preserved, or that such concerns are “overly sensitive.” It strikes me as odd that a day created to celebrate so-called Australian culture would so blatantly disregard those most culturally connected to the country. But she’ll be right, I guess!

 A culture cannot truly be celebrated when its history – particularly the colonial legacy – is so often overlooked or erased. 

In this same way, humor often allows for denial. Within daily life, casual racism is normalized, explained away as “just a joke” during attempts to hold people accountable. “Geez, relax” is a sentence that permeates locker rooms, sports stadiums, classrooms, and playgrounds, with those who do not conform to the “White-Australian” image being targeted. This is especially evident within sport, with multiple Indigenous AFL players facing booing or racial taunts from the crowd, which are quickly dismissed as crowd energy rather than calls for reflection. This lends itself to a broader theme I have noticed amongst Australians: while priding ourselves on our thick skin, ironically, we struggle to confront our own shortcomings. 

This article is not meant to provoke dislike of Australia, but to complicate the picture-perfect image many hold. A culture cannot truly be celebrated when its history – particularly the colonial legacy – is so often overlooked or erased. I left Australia not because it is unlovable – the sunlit chaos, friendliness, and raw nature will always be part of me – but because I longed for a culture that could embrace depth, diversity, and ambition as freely as Australia embraces the sunshine. Perhaps that is the country I imagined when I first said, “I’m from Australia.”