Protecting Children, Upholding Rights: AASW Statement on Northern Territory Child Protection Legislation

From a practice perspective, there are many layers of tension present. 

First is the tension between immediate safety and long-term wellbeing. There are situations where removing a child may be absolutely necessary. At the same time, decades of research also show that unnecessary removal, particularly for Aboriginal children, can create lifelong trauma and loss of identity. Good child protection practice has always tried to hold both truths at once rather than treating them as competing priorities.

Second is the role of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Child Placement Principle (ATSICPP). Sometimes this is misunderstood as simply meaning “place Aboriginal children with Aboriginal carers.” In reality, it is a broader framework built around Prevention, Partnership, Placement, Participation and Connection. Many critics argue the recent reforms weaken that broader framework, while the government argues that safety must take precedence when those goals cannot all be achieved – seemingly without understanding that many aspects of that framework define safety for First Nations children and families. How safe is an Aboriginal child if they have been removed from community, culture, kin and connection? While it is true that they may be alive in the physical sense, if they are no longer connected to the elements in life that make them complete, are they safe? Safety is about much more than being physically unharmed. Safety also encompasses the psychological, spiritual and emotional aspects for First Nations Peoples. If the need for wellbeing is not met on every level, then the child is not safe.

Third is something many frontline workers will recognise: the legislation may raise expectations without increasing capacity. Earlier intervention sounds positive, but it requires skilled practitioners, family support services, and culturally appropriate placements. Without those, practitioners may be left with fewer realistic options than the legislation assumes. There are already resource shortages in all areas of child protection, and this change of legislation has the makings to require more in the way of human resourcing as it once again discounts Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices and communities.

Something that needs to be understood to be valued is the fact that trust between Aboriginal communities and statutory child protection services has taken generations to rebuild after the Stolen Generations, and it is still quite tentative and fragile, having been significantly setback during the “Intervention” in 2007. Any reform perceived as reducing the importance of culture or community decision-making risks damaging that fragile trust and making engagement with families even more difficult, even if the government’s intention is to improve child safety.

One point that has struck me throughout this debate is that the discussion is often framed as “child safety versus culture.” Framing the discussion in this manner is not at all helpful. The best child protection practice has always recognised that safety, attachment, identity and culture are all protective factors. The challenge is determining what is in the child’s best interests when those factors cannot all be fully preserved.

What stands out right now is the distinction between responding to a tragedy without thinking ahead to the implications of snap judgements and building a sustainable child protection system with defensible outcomes. History shows that the deaths of children often lead governments to introduce rapid legislative reforms that don’t necessarily address the deep-seated, underlying issues that contributed to the harm to begin with.

‘The Little Children Are Sacred’ report, otherwise known as the Northern Territory “Intervention” is particularly significant. That report, led by Pat Anderson and Rex Wild, called for comprehensive action to protect Aboriginal children. Many Aboriginal leaders have argued that the subsequent policy response focused heavily on intervention and enforcement rather than implementing the report’s broader recommendations around community partnership, prevention, and addressing the social determinants of child safety.

Similarly, critics of the recent NT reforms argue that reducing the weight of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Child Placement Principle risks repeating a pattern where immediate physical protection is prioritised without equal attention to maintaining family, culture, and community connections that support long-term wellbeing. Supporters of the reforms respond that they are intended to ensure physical safety is paramount where there is serious risk to a child.

From a social work perspective, there is a broader question that is worth asking: What evidence would demonstrate that these reforms have been successful? If, five or ten years from now, there are more Aboriginal children permanently separated from family and Country, but no reduction in serious harm or child deaths, many would conclude the reforms had not achieved their intended purpose. Conversely, if there were measurable improvements in child safety while maintaining stronger cultural connections, that would support the government’s approach.

Ultimately, legislation can shape decision-making, but it cannot replace what many practitioners see as the foundations of effective child protection work/intervention: early intervention, stable housing, treatment for alcohol and other drug issues, accessible health and mental health care, well-supported kinship carers, culturally informed practice, and genuine partnerships with Aboriginal communities.

North Australian Aboriginal Justice Agency (NAAJA) CEO, Ben Grimes, has been one of the most prominent critics of the NT Government’s reforms, stating the following:

• The reforms were developed too quickly. He described them as “the politicisation of a tragedy” and argued that effective child protection reform “cannot responsibly occur through politically reactive amendments driven by media narrative.”
• There was insufficient consultation. Grimes has said that genuine reform requires meaningful engagement with Aboriginal communities, legal experts, frontline practitioners, and people with lived experience before legislation is drafted.
• The reforms are not evidence-based. NAAJA has argued that the government has not demonstrated that weakening aspects of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Child Placement Principle will improve child safety. Instead, Grimes has maintained that reform should be guided by evidence rather than public pressure following a tragic case.
• The focus should be on systemic issues. Rather than changing legal thresholds and placement provisions, he has called for investment in early intervention, family support, Aboriginal Community Controlled Organisations, and addressing chronic workforce shortages in the child protection system.
  
  

Following the passage of the legislation, Grimes joined a broad coalition of Aboriginal organisations opposing the Bill. The coalition argued that the reforms remove safeguards intended to prevent the repetition of historical policies that separated Aboriginal children from their families and culture.  

One aspect of Grimes’ commentary that has been particularly relevant is that he has not argued against child safety being paramount. Instead, his position has been that child safety, and the Child Placement Principle are not mutually exclusive. His view appears to be that weakening the placement principle does not address why children come into contact with the system in the first place and risks repeating historical mistakes while failing to solve the underlying problems.  

Grimes’ critique is centred on the proposition that enduring child protection reform must be evidence-based, properly consulted on, and accompanied by investment in the broader service system rather than relying primarily on legislative change. He also appears to be of the belief that long-term change does not come from a reactive legislative response to a tragedy but is the end result of the long-term reform needed to improve outcomes for children and families. 

The reforms contain measures that are defensible in principle: earlier assistance, meaningful child participation, interagency responsibility, family placement and greater scrutiny of children’s long-term stability. The difficulty lies in the legal hierarchy and the system in which those provisions will operate. 

A statutory duty to make “proactive efforts” will have limited protective value if families cannot obtain housing, rehabilitation, disability support, domestic-violence services, culturally appropriate assessment or intensive family support. In that context, shorter reunification pathways and stronger permanency provisions may punish families for government service failures. 

The critical issue is therefore not whether child safety or culture should come first – that framing is misleading. For Aboriginal children, connection to safe family, kin, community, culture and Country is itself an important component of safety, identity and lifelong wellbeing. The real question is whether the new law will produce properly resourced, Aboriginal-led early intervention—or primarily make removal and permanent separation administratively easier. The weight of expert and Aboriginal-sector criticism suggests there are substantial grounds for concern that it will do more of the latter. 

History tells us that if we do not learn from that which has gone before we are doomed to repeat it. By deciding to simply change legislation in response to a tragic situation the NT government appear to once again be doomed to repeating the mistakes of 2007 and the Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarle: “Little Children Are Sacred” report which saw Federal government intervention in reaction to events unfolding in the Northern Territory without stopping to take the time to consider the implications of these actions, of which repercussions are still being felt to this day. 

The Little Children Are Sacred report and the governmental response to it are essential to understanding why the 2026 legislation has generated such alarm. The present controversy is not simply about the wording of a new Act. It sits within a long history in which concern for Aboriginal children has repeatedly been used to justify externally imposed measures that marginalise Aboriginal knowledge, authority and decision-making.