2026-04-23
THE NDIS ISN’T BROKEN — BUT THE WAY WE TALK ABOUT IT IS
By Senator Jordon Steele-John
You’ve probably seen the headlines. Labor is planning to remove up to 160,000 people from the NDIS under changes to be introduced in the 2026 Federal Budget. Health and Disability Minister Mark Butler says the changes are necessary due to “cost blowouts” and a rise in “shonks, rorts and organised crime”.
That’s 160,000 people whose access to essential support is now uncertain.
Butler spoke at length, claiming these changes are necessary because of “cost blowouts” and a rise in “shonks, rorts and organised crime,” taking advantage of the scheme.
This narrative didn’t emerge in a vacuum.
In recent years, the government has increasingly framed the NDIS as financially unsustainable with so-called “cost blowouts” used to justify sweeping reforms and funding cuts. At the same time, media coverage of NDIS fraud has surged, often with misleading headlines (Financial Review I’m looking at you) that imply participants are the primary perpetrators.
Fraud does exist within the NDIS. But the most significant cases are overwhelmingly committed by providers, not participants. And while serious, it represents a small fraction of overall spending.
Fraud must be addressed, but it should never be weaponised to undermine the rights of disabled people. Because that’s what’s happening here: a shift from discussing support to questioning legitimacy.
What we’re seeing isn’t just a policy debate, it’s a narrative being constructed. One that reframes disabled people from rights-holders to liabilities.
As the government prepares to spend tens of billions more on defence, including massive investments in AUKUS, the NDIS is being positioned as a key area for “savings.”
That’s not a coincidence.
When governments talk about ‘sustainability’, what they often mean is deciding whose support is considered expendable. So when the time comes to justify difficult budget decisions, they often look for areas where public sympathy can be weakened. Disabled people, who are already subject to negative stereotypes about dependency and worth, become an easy target.
The result is a dangerous reframing of the NDIS, from essential infrastructure to a problem to be solved.
Yet, the evidence tells a very different story.
According to a recent report by not-for-profit economic research institute E61, people don’t enter the NDIS because they’re thriving, they enter after a period of declining health and stability. So the scheme isn’t creating dependency. It’s responding to it.
And once people receive support, outcomes begin to shift. Wellbeing improves over time, particularly people’s capacity to engage in daily life and paid work.
Workforce participation often drops before entry to the NDIS, then stabilises and, for some, begins to recover. Some people return to work. Others are able to increase their hours.
At the same time, reliance on JobSeeker declines.
This isn’t a system failing. It’s a system doing what it was designed to do: removing barriers so people can participate.
The NDIS is not just a support system, it’s an economic driver. When funding is cut, support needs don’t vanish. Instead, they are pushed onto families, carers, and already overstretched community systems. This unpaid labour falls disproportionately on women, forcing many out of the workforce entirely. And crucially, not every disabled person has family who can step in.
Cutting the NDIS doesn’t eliminate cost, it redistributes it in ways that are less visible, less equitable, and ultimately more harmful.
Behind every headline is a person navigating a system that determines whether they can leave the house, maintain employment, or access basic care.
For many participants, even small reductions in support can mean the difference between independence and isolation.
This is what gets lost in the current debate.
The NDIS was intended to be a structural commitment to dignity, autonomy, and inclusion. Reducing it to a line item in a budget ignores the reality of what it enables: people living full, self-directed lives.
Labor has choices. They could tax the wealth of the top 1%, tax gas exports, or make big corporations pay their fair share. Instead, they’re choosing to cut the NDIS — because they believe disabled people are an easier target.
The question we should be asking isn’t whether the NDIS is “too expensive”. It’s: what kind of society do we want to be?
Disabled people are not a line item to be cut, we are a community with rights.
Public sentiment doesn’t shift on its own, it’s shaped by political choices and media narratives.
And right now, those narratives are moving us away from the original promise of the NDIS.
If we want a scheme that works (not just economically, but ethically) then we need to challenge the idea that disability support is optional.
Because the NDIS was never meant to be a lifeboat. It was meant to be a foundation.