Every January, the country walks back into the same argument.
The same positions.
The same anger.
The same sense everyone has said this before and nothing has shifted.
Australia Day is held on 26 January because it marks the arrival of the First Fleet at Sydney Cove in 1788 and the beginning of British colonisation. This history sits at the centre of the debate. For many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, 26 January marks invasion, dispossession, and the beginning of harm that continues across generations. Calling it Invasion Day reflects lived experience rather than provocation.
At the same time, some Australians hold tightly to 26 January. For them, the date represents continuity and belonging. Changing it feels personal, as though something familiar is being taken away. Others move through the day without much thought beyond a public holiday, yet still find themselves pulled into an argument that demands a position.
What strikes me is how little effort goes into finding a way through this. Disagreement isn’t unusual in a country like ours.
What is unusual is how willing we are to let the issue sit unresolved. There’s no shared story about 26 January, no careful listening, no attempt to imagine a future that isn’t stuck replaying the same fight.
Instead, the debate gets funnelled into the same places each year. Social media. Talkback radio. Morning television. Volume replaces curiosity. Language sharpens. People dig in. By the end of January, many people feel bruised and unheard, and the country feels smaller rather than stronger.
From the outside, this reads less like a national conversation and more like neglect. Neglect of history. Neglect of people who carry its weight. Neglect of the responsibility that comes with living together on contested ground.
Other countries with difficult pasts have taken different approaches. They separate remembrance from celebration. They create space for truth to be spoken without rushing people toward agreement. They accept that shared life asks for patience and sustained attention over time.
Australia avoids that path. Australia steps around what living together requires. We argue about 26 January, defend our ground, and return to our corners. The deeper question rarely holds the centre.
What kind of country are we trying to be, and how do we want to live with each other?
Until that question leads the conversation, Australia Day will keep returning as a fault line. Each year it exposes the same cracks, not because the issue lacks answers, but because choosing the easier option has become routine.
And next January, the cycle will begin again.
