The Australian media is currently clutching its collective pearls because a former—and potentially future—U.S. President called the Prime Minister "nasty" or "low-IQ." The press gallery treats these diplomatic spats like a structural failure of the global order. They want a formal apology. They want "mutual respect." They want the cozy, predictable embrace of the AUKUS status quo.
They are wrong.
The diplomatic friction between Canberra and a populist Washington isn't a crisis to be managed; it’s a long-overdue wake-up call. For decades, Australian foreign policy has been built on the comfortable delusion that we are a "middle power" with a "special seat" at the table. We’ve traded our strategic autonomy for the warm glow of an invite to the White House.
If Donald Trump or any other "America First" leader treats Australia like just another vassal state, it’s because we’ve spent fifty years acting like one. The outrage over "attacks" on our leadership is a distraction from the real problem: our pathological dependence on a security guarantee that is increasingly conditional, expensive, and volatile.
The Myth of the Sacred Alliance
The "lazy consensus" among the Canberra bubble is that the ANZUS treaty is a holy relic. The logic goes: if we say the right things, buy the right submarines, and fight in every "forever war" the U.S. starts, we are safe.
This is strategic malpractice.
In the real world, nations don't have friends; they have interests. When a U.S. President attacks an Australian Prime Minister, they aren't "breaking" the alliance—they are clarifying it. They are reminding us that the U.S. will prioritize its domestic base and its own balance sheet every single time.
I’ve spent years watching trade delegations and defense lobbyists operate in D.C. They don’t see Australia as an equal partner. They see a reliable customer for the military-industrial complex. We are currently committed to spending $368 billion on AUKUS submarines that won't be fully operational until some of us are in nursing homes. We are paying for the privilege of being a frontline buffer zone.
If a blunt critique from a U.S. leader offends our sensibilities, good. It should sting. It should force us to ask why we’ve outsourced our national security to a superpower that views us as a rounding error on a spreadsheet.
Diplomacy is Not a Politeness Contest
The current narrative frames "clashes" between leaders as a failure of diplomacy. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of what diplomacy is.
Real diplomacy is the management of power, not the management of feelings. When an Australian PM "fires back," it’s usually a scripted performance for a domestic audience to show they have a "backbone." It’s theater.
The counter-intuitive truth? A more transactional, even hostile, relationship with Washington would be better for Australia’s long-term health.
Imagine a scenario where Australia stops asking for permission.
- Trade: We stop pretending that "shared values" protect our wine or barley exports when U.S. protectionism kicks in.
- Defense: We build a "porcupine" defense strategy—denial and deterrence—rather than an expeditionary force designed to support U.S. naval operations in distant waters.
- Agency: We speak to our neighbors in Jakarta, Tokyo, and New Delhi as a sovereign entity, not as the "deputy sheriff" of the Pacific.
The "nasty" comments from across the Pacific are actually a gift. They provide the political cover needed to pivot away from the "Great and Powerful Friend" strategy that has dominated our thinking since 1942.
The AUKUS Sunk Cost Fallacy
The loudest critics of the "Trumpian" approach to Australia are the same people who championed the AUKUS deal. They claim that "stability" is the highest virtue.
But look at the math. We are tying our entire naval future to American shipyards that are already over-capacity and behind schedule. We are betting that the U.S. political system will remain stable enough to honor a decades-long hardware transfer.
Is that a "robust" plan? No. It’s a gamble.
By reacting with horror to every tweet or insult from a U.S. political figure, we signal our fragility. We tell the world that our national identity is so tied to American approval that a single negative comment can send our media into a tailspin.
The most "sovereign" thing Australia could do is stop caring.
If a U.S. President wants to be "transactional," we should meet them with cold, hard transactions. We should stop providing "free" strategic depth and start charging for the utility of our geography. We provide the U.S. with Pine Gap—one of the most important intelligence facilities on the planet. We provide the northern bases for rotational marines.
If the "special relationship" is dead, then these assets are no longer "shared" gifts between friends. They are leverage.
The High Cost of Being "Likable"
Australia’s obsession with being the "good student" in the international classroom has cost us dearly. It has stifled our manufacturing base because we followed U.S.-led neoliberal trade dogmas long after the U.S. itself abandoned them. It has made us a target for economic coercion from other superpowers who know we have nowhere else to run.
The downside to my contrarian view? It’s uncomfortable. It requires us to actually fund our own defense properly, rather than just buying off-the-shelf American tech. It requires a level of political courage that hasn't been seen in Canberra for thirty years. It means we might actually have to say "no" to a request for troops in a conflict that doesn't serve our direct interests.
But the alternative is worse. The alternative is remaining a passenger in a car driven by a driver who doesn't even know we're in the backseat.
Stop Asking "Will They Like Us?"
The media asks: "How will this affect the alliance?"
They should be asking: "Why do we need the alliance to look like this?"
The premise of the "clash" narrative is that Australia is a victim of a mean bully. This is a loser’s mindset. Australia is a wealthy, stable, strategically vital nation. We don't need "mutual respect" to survive; we need objective utility.
When a foreign leader attacks our PM, the correct response isn't a fiery press conference or a plea for civility. The correct response is a shrug and a reallocation of the budget.
If the U.S. wants to pivot to an "America First" stance, Australia must pivot to an "Australia First" stance. Not out of spite, but out of necessity. The era of the "blank check" security guarantee is over, regardless of who wins the next election. The rhetoric just makes it harder to ignore the reality.
We should thank the "attacks" for exposing the rot in our strategic thinking. The cozy consensus is a trap. The friction is the only thing that will make us move.
Stop crying about the insults and start counting the cost of the friendship.