This morning, Tomago Aluminium began consulting staff about a potential closure in 2028. Hundreds of skilled workers woke to the horrifying reality that their livelihoods — and entire communities — could vanish. And what did Labor ministers do? They held a press conference… but only for the cameras.
Only a carefully selected, woke-friendly media crowd was allowed in. Not a single hard question was asked. Meryl Swanson, Dan Repacholi, and their colleagues hid behind talking points, screens, and carefully worded statements. Leadership? Accountability? Courage? None of it. If there was ever an opportunity to speak out against Labor’s Net Zero agenda and defend real jobs, they ducked. Cowardice doesn’t begin to describe it.
Labor ministers love a hard hat, a shovel, a ribbon-cutting — any staged photo-op will do. But when faced with real scrutiny over the policies that are destabilizing the Hunter’s energy and industry, they disappear. Today, the only thing on display was their talent for political theatre.
And make no mistake, the problem is systemic. The Minns Government, the Albanese federal government, and their local MPs are driving a Renewable Energy agenda that makes reliable, cheap power a distant dream. Tomago smelts aluminium with electricity, not slogans. Net Zero dogma might look good in Sydney or Canberra, but in the Hunter, it’s a wrecking ball.
The unions? Hunter Workers are no longer the defenders of skilled labour they once were. They’ve become echo chambers for ideology, parroting the same Net Zero catechism instead of fighting for baseload power, investment certainty, and actual jobs. Skilled locals, apprentices, and families are left to carry the fallout while ministers and unions perform for the camera.
Here’s the brutal truth: photo-ops don’t keep furnaces running. Slogans don’t pay mortgages. Political cowardice and ideological obsession are why Tomago WILL close in 2028. The first domino is wobbling, and the rest of the Hunter’s industries are lined up behind it.
If Labor thinks empathy, press releases, and staged events are enough to save regional manufacturing, they’re dreaming. Enough with the optics, enough with the slogans, enough with hiding behind screens. The Hunter was built by hard work, skill, and grit — not by ministers flexing for the camera or unions echoing dogma.
Workers didn’t ask for ideology. They asked for leadership. And today, once again, they didn’t get it.
Meryl Swanson, Pat Conroy, and Dan Repacholi will be remembered in the Hunter not for leadership or courage, but for driving a wrecking ball through the region.