Should Australia Have Fewer Politicians, Not More?

Australia is already one of the most governed nations on Earth relative to its population, operating under three distinct tiers of government and a vast matrix of laws and regulations. Yet across the country, parliaments are quietly moving to add more seats — and a growing chorus of voices is asking whether that is the right direction at all.

The federal government has signalled its desire for more members of parliament, reigniting a debate that stretches back decades. In 1984, federal politicians expanded the House of Representatives from 125 to 150 seats, while the Senate grew from 64 to 76 — bringing total federal representation to 226, where critics argue it should never have exceeded around 190.

The same pattern is playing out at state and territory level. In the Australian Capital Territory, the Labor-Greens government that has held power for more than two decades is pursuing an expansion of the Legislative Assembly from 25 to 35 members. The body, which handles the functions of a city council — roads, rates and rubbish collection for the nation's capital — once operated with just 17 members. Critics see the push to more than double that original size as emblematic of political self-interest dressed up as democratic reform.

Queensland followed a similar path, expanding its parliament from 89 to 93 seats ahead of the 2017 state election. Opponents noted the timing was not coincidental — adjustments to electoral boundaries and the creation of new seats have a tendency to align with minority government negotiations and crossbench deal-making, benefiting those in power rather than the public they serve.

Proponents of larger parliaments — often drawn from the Greens, Labor and minor party factions — argue that more representatives allow for a broader diversity of voices, lighter committee workloads and better community engagement across geographically large electorates. But those arguments are contested on both practical and financial grounds.

Every additional politician carries a substantial cost well beyond their base salary. Taxpayers fund electoral allowances, multiple staff members, travel expenses, office space requirements and superannuation entitlements. When parliament expands, those compounding costs redirect tens of millions of dollars away from frontline services — healthcare, education and infrastructure — toward the political apparatus itself.

The population growth argument, often cited to justify expansion, also runs up against the reality of modern communications technology. In the digital age, representatives have access to mobile phones, video conferencing and online correspondence tools that allow a single office in a regional hub to serve constituents across enormous distances. The tyranny of geography that once justified more seats has been substantially eroded by technology that parliamentarians appear reluctant to fully embrace.

There is also the question of legislative efficiency. Expanding the number of voices in a chamber can produce gridlock, longer and less substantive debates, and an increase in partisan grandstanding rather than practical problem-solving. And in a system where most members vote along party lines almost without exception, raw numbers matter far less than the quality and accountability of individual members.

A smaller, more capable parliament would place greater responsibility on each representative, subjecting them to higher public scrutiny and incentivising a genuine focus on national or state interests rather than factional survival. Whether that argument gains traction against the institutional momentum toward expansion remains to be seen — but the question of how much government Australians actually need, and who should be deciding that, is one that will not go away.