The NSW Government is now preparing to hand Rio Tinto millions of taxpayer dollars to keep the Tomago Aluminium Smelter operating. Not because the company suddenly forgot how to make aluminium. Not because the workers stopped showing up. Not because Australia ran out of resources.
No — because electricity in one of the most resource-rich regions on earth has become so absurdly expensive and unreliable that a major industrial operation now needs public subsidies just to survive.
And we’re supposed to call this progress.
Tomago isn’t some trendy inner-city startup making reusable coffee cups. It’s one of the largest aluminium smelters in the country. It employs thousands directly and indirectly across the Hunter. It exists because aluminium smelting requires one thing above all else: massive amounts of constant, uninterrupted baseload power.
You know — the kind Australia used to have.
For decades, the Hunter region powered the nation through coal-fired electricity. Cheap power. Stable power. The kind of power that built factories, mines, workshops and middle-class lives. The kind of power that allowed heavy industry to operate without needing emergency taxpayer life support every second Tuesday.
But then came the great energy experiment.
Governments closed coal plants faster than replacements could realistically be built. Reliable baseload was treated like some embarrassing relic from the past. Meanwhile, politicians promised Australians that renewables would make electricity “cheaper than ever.”
How’s that going?
Power bills have surged. Manufacturers are under pressure. Families are choosing between heating and groceries. And now multinational corporations are lining up for government subsidies just to keep the lights on.
This isn’t new, either. Australians have been watching this cycle for years.
First came subsidies for wind farms. Then transmission projects. Then batteries. Then “capacity investment schemes.” Then rebates to offset the power prices created by the policies that caused the power prices in the first place.
Now we’re subsidising the industries damaged by the subsidised energy transition.
It’s the economic equivalent of setting your own house on fire and then congratulating yourself for funding the fire brigade.
And here’s the uncomfortable question nobody in Macquarie Street wants to answer honestly: if renewables are truly the cheapest energy source in history, why does every major industry connected to them suddenly require government intervention to survive?
Why are taxpayers paying twice? Once through soaring electricity bills — and again through corporate rescue packages?
The Hunter once had an energy advantage the rest of the world envied. Reliable 24-hour power generation sitting right in the backyard. Liddell. Eraring. Bayswater. Mount Piper. Infrastructure that kept industry alive regardless of whether the wind was blowing at 2am.
Now, somehow, we’re told the solution is even more dependence on a grid that already struggles during peak demand.
And the people making these decisions rarely suffer the consequences themselves. Politicians still have air conditioning. Bureaucrats still get paid. Inner-city activists still charge their electric cars.
But the tradesman in Singleton notices the power bill. The small manufacturer in Newcastle notices. The smelter worker at Tomago definitely notices.
This is what happens when energy policy becomes ideological instead of practical.
Australia used to build things because we had the energy to power them. Now we hold press conferences announcing taxpayer-funded rescue deals to stop those industries collapsing under the weight of our own policies.
And somehow, we’re all expected to pretend this is normal.