From George Christensen, former Nationals MHR
George to exit Mackay Regional Council
I won’t be going into details — because this is family, family is private, and family is sacred. So I won’t be discussing it in the media or the public domain. But I will say this: there are moments in life when even duty must give way to something greater.
I hope people will understand that this is a decision made out of love and necessity, not politics or pressure.
Some may criticise me for triggering a by-election. Let them. I didn’t run for office to cling to it. I ran to serve. And right now, serving means stepping aside.
That said, I won’t leave without saying what needs to be said. As someone who’s served in local and federal elected office — and been deeply involved in state politics, having run the campaigns of no fewer than three state MPs — I’ve seen how power really works.
And I’ve seen what’s broken.
First of all, local government has become a bureaucratic cage.
One of the most corrosive developments in recent years is how local councillors are being muzzled — not by voters, but by a creeping bureaucracy armed with vague codes of conduct and weaponised complaints processes.
In Queensland, the Office of the Independent Assessor (OIA) has turned governance into a minefield. A councillor asking a hard question or taking a stand on a controversial issue can be slapped with a complaint and dragged through a drawn-out process that exists more to chill speech than to protect integrity.
Add to this the ever-expanding use of the phrase “operational matter” — a convenient way to tell elected representatives to butt out — and you have a situation where the people’s voice is being actively sidelined.
Councillors are elected to represent. That means engaging with the actual issues people care about — not just ticking off long-term strategic documents. Everything is strategic until it’s being done. And councillors must be free to intervene before it’s too late.
I’ve also found the groupthink is becoming a danger at every level of government but it’s especially dangerous in local government where there is no official opposition.
I’ve witnessed first-hand is how rare real debate has become — not just in council chambers, but across institutions. Groupthink is the default setting.
You cannot have a functioning democracy without robust questioning.
Yet questioning is too often discouraged. Those who push back are seen as “disruptive.” But questioning is not dysfunction. It is democracy.
In fact, the healthiest democratic spaces are the ones where questions are welcome, where scrutiny is embraced, and where the representatives of the people don’t get side-eyed for challenging the narrative. But increasingly, elected representatives are being expected to “get with the program” and “trust the process.”
That’s not democracy. That’s bureaucracy in a suit.
When questioning is discouraged, when concerns are waved away, and when dissent is viewed as disruption — what you have isn’t governance. It’s managerialism. And eventually, the public sees through it and they throw everyone out.
There’s also a cultural problem in local government. When I left local government in 2010 (having had served as a councillor for six years) and returned 14 years later, I found something had changed. Somewhere along the way, too many councils have started speaking down to the people they’re meant to serve.
Public pushback is treated like ignorance. Community outrage is dismissed as emotional. But when everyday Australians raise their voices, it’s not a nuisance — it’s a wake-up call.
Local government isn’t there to instruct the public. It’s there to represent them. And if public sentiment is saying “this isn’t working,” then it’s elected officials — not the public — who should fall into line. They don’t need to be “educated” — they need to be listened to.
And on the issue of rising rates, residents are definitely not being listened to. Next month, like clockwork, most councils across the country will bring down their annual budgets. And we’ll hear the usual mantras: “sustainable,” “responsible,” “forward-looking.”
But behind the slogans is a reality that’s crushing ratepayers.
Rates are rising. Rapidly. In some cases by double digit percentage points. And in many rural areas, landowners — especially farmers — are receiving annual bills in the tens of thousands. I’ve seen rate notices as high as $60,000. That’s not sustainable. That’s not fair.
Local government was meant to be about potholes, parks, and rubbish collection — not building empires on the backs of the very people who produce our food, pay our bills, and keep the regions alive.
Most people don’t want visionary budgets from their local council. They want bread and butter services. Roads fixed. Drains cleared. Parks mowed.
That’s what I’ve tried to focus on. That’s what local government is supposed to be.
So yes — I’m stepping down from my council role. But I’m not stepping away from the fight.
I’ll still be here. Still writing. Still calling it as I see it. And still standing up for Australian families, farmers, and freedom-loving citizens who are sick to death of being ignored.
But right now, my little girl needs her dad.
And no matter what role I’ve had — journalist, MP, councillor, or advocate — the most important title I’ll ever hold is father.
Until next time, God bless you, your family and nation.
