Thursday, 16 July 2026

Traversing the Indigenous policy FOI Labyrinth: high level implications

 

 

This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod,

And there is in this business more than nature

Was ever conduct of. Some oracle

 Must rectify our knowledge.

The Tempest, Act five, Scene one

 

 

Readers of this Blog will know that several of my posts, especially those related to Groote Eylandt, are based on documents obtained under the Freedom of Information Act 1982 (FOI Act). However, I usually pass over the details of the efforts required to obtain them. This post is a brief corrective: not an argument about what the documents show, but an account of the processes by which they arrive or don't, or arrive late, or arrive redacted, often for reasons that are flimsy and don’t stand up under closer scrutiny.

 

To enhance readability, I have kept this post reasonably brief and mostly free of legal argument. A second post, to follow shortly, will address the substantive implications of the emergence of a wider pattern of systemic opacity and often unnecessary secrecy. This post is intended to lay the groundwork for that further post currently in preparation.

 

Two agencies, same texture

 

Over the past several months I have had live FOI matters running simultaneously with the National Indigenous Australians Agency (NIAA) and the Office of the Registrar of Indigenous Corporations (ORIC). Both related to aspects of the administrative and accountability crisis that has engulfed the ALC and the distribution of royalty equivalents on Groote Eylandt. The two are different agencies handling different requests, with no reason to expect their conduct to resemble one another. And yet….

 

With ORIC, a decision on my request for documents relating to an examination of Groote Holdings Aboriginal Corporation (GHAC) was made on 21 May 2026. I did not receive it. I chased it seven weeks later, on 13 July, and was told the email had simply been erroneously misaddressed. Fair enough; mistakes happen. What doesn't simply happen is a second failure sitting behind the first: under section 11C of the FOI Act, agencies are required to publish released documents to a public Disclosure Log within ten business days of giving access. That hadn't happened either. When seven weeks on I asked why, the answer I was given that the decisionmaker had decided to not publish the released documents based on her view that ‘they contain business information of third parties that would be unreasonable to publish’. Coincidentally, she had omitted to include the standard paragraph used by ORIC in statements of reasons relating to the publication (or not) on the Disclosure Log. To its credit, ORIC apologised for this oversight. More seriously, the response cited the wrong subsection of the Act to explain it, and even had they cited the correct section, the facts are not consistent with the rationale communicated to me. The only information released relating to the business information of a third party was the business address of GHAC, which is in fact published on the ORIC website.

 

So, in addition to missing the statutory timeframe for responding to my request, my queries unearthed two further apparent administrative mistakes, namely the failure to publish the released document and to inform me of their decision, and the apparent decision to base it on a reason that doesn’t stand up.  I say apparent decision because notwithstanding seeking confirmation that there is written evidence of the decision maker's decision, the response received has consistently pointed me to the internal review processes applicable under the Act. To be fair, ORIC's most recent correspondence was accommodating on one point: rather than treating the misaddressed email as having started the clock on 21 May, it confirmed I could use my actual date of receipt, 13 July, as the start date for seeking internal review. That is a reasonable position, and I record it as such. The broader problem remains, however, that an internal review deals with the decision's correctness under the Act and is not directed at the quality of the processes used to make that decision.

 

There are issues with the substantive correctness of the decision to withhold the entirety of the investigation report totalling around 90 pages. The decision maker decided to redact the entire document on the basis that section 47E(d) of the FOI Act conditionally exempts documents where disclosure would, or could reasonably be expected to, have a substantial adverse effect on the proper and efficient conduct of the operations of an agency (namely ORIC). The FOI Act provides that conditionally exempt documents  should be released ‘unless (in the circumstances) access to the document at that time would, on balance, be contrary to the public interest’. The decision maker is required to balance the factors for and against release. To assist decision makers, the Act lists a range of factors that favour access including whether access to the document would do any of the following:

(a) promote the objects of this Act… ;

            (b) inform debate on a matter of public importance;

(c) promote effective oversight of public expenditure;

The decision maker made no direct mention of these factors in making her decision, but it is a balancing process and will need to be determined through a future review process if access is to be made available. Such a process or processes would inevitably involve significant further delays.

 

With NIAA, the sequence has been longer and, in its way, more instructive.

 

On 23 December 2025, NIAA issued its decision on my request FOI/2526/013 which I made on 24 September 2025, and which focussed on the ministerial approvals underpinning the Winchelsea mine. The initial decision on FOI/2526/031 was released on 16 March 2026. I previously published two posts based on these documents (link here and link here).  The material released in the first request comprised a lengthy set of documents, redacted in multiple places. On 13 January 2026 I lodged a detailed request for internal review, running across five separate grounds: missing documents, and three different exemption claims I considered wrongly applied. I noted that the documents released referenced two documents that had not been included in the original release and appeared to come within the terms of my request. NIAA agreed and for technical reasons suggested that I agree to them being considered as a new request for access. This became FOI/2526/031.

 

Nothing happened, at least not visibly, for some time. I later learned why. Both the original decision-maker and the internal reviewer were on leave for the first fortnight after I lodged my request. The FOI team's first substantive discussion of my contentions took place on 27 January 2026, more than a fortnight after I'd made them, and only days before the statutory deadline for a decision. That deadline was, in the event, missed. NIAA applied for, and was granted, an extension and, to its credit, told me so directly and apologetically.

 

What happened next is worth focussing on. NIAA's Chief Lawyer emailed to explain that the internal reviewer had tentatively formed the view that some of the original redactions should be lifted, but before finalising that view, wanted to give the Anindilyakwa Land Council (ALC) a further opportunity to comment. The ALC is not a disinterested bystander in this material; it is the entity whose own conduct much of it describes. It was given eight days to respond to an 83-page document package. I had made my own submissions three weeks earlier and would get no further opportunity to respond to whatever the ALC put forward in reply. And once the internal reviewer's decision was made, it would then go to a briefing for NIAA's senior executive committee described to me by the Chief Lawyer as a chance "to review the documents and ask any questions" before the internal review was finalised and sent to me.

 

To be clear, NIAA was not obliged, under the FOI Act, to consult the ALC again at this stage at all. It did so, I was told, only to honour an earlier undertaking to the ALC. I have no basis for concluding that any of this changed the outcome, and I am not alleging that it did. What I am saying is more circumspect, but difficult to refute: a process that builds in a further hearing for the party under scrutiny, and none at all for the person who asked the question, is not a process most people would recognise as evenly balanced regardless of how the individual officers involved conducted themselves.

 

Nor is it wise in my view for an independent internal reviewer to share her proposed decision (based on her interpretation of the FOI Act) with the agency’s senior management and expect that the agency’s reputation for independent administration of the legislation would not be harmed. As the OAIC website states:

As a merits review process, an internal review is a new decision-making process in which an independent internal review decision-maker remakes the original access refusal or access grant decision (link here, para 9.2).

I responded to the Chief Lawyer and expressed my reservations about this proposed approach and requested a response to my concerns but heard nothing. It is not clear if the Executive Committee were in fact provided with prior access to the internal review decisions.

 

A related and separate issue particularly with more complex FOI matters is that the agency legal unit provides support for both the initial decision maker and the internal reviewer. This too is a potential conflict and also opens the possibility of agencies pursuing strategic behaviour to slow down access, on the basis that more restrictive (and perhaps less justifiable) decisions to refuse access will often not be pursued, and if they are they can be adjusted at a later time.

 

The final agency decisions taken in these two NIAA matters are now before the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner (OAIC). The OAIC is facing considerable delays in processing outstanding FOI issues, especially comparatively complex matters, so I am not expecting a response until early next year.

 

Why this is worth a post on its own

 

None of this, on its own, focusses on what the documents contain. That's deliberate; this post is about the nature of the journey — the conditions of the road, its challenges and mis-directions, its byways and highways — not the destination. But the nature of the journey matters. What is clear from the two cases considered in this post is that the journey has become encapsulated in an administrative labyrinth, designed to minimise transparency, pre-emptively constrain potential criticism, promote secrecy and to disincentive citizens keen to understand the workings of their government.

 

These are issues that are broader than any one agency and emanate from the antipathy of the Executive arm of government to transparency, and its all-encompassing focus on managing the daily news cycle. In today’s public sector, agencies understand this and act accordingly.

 

In relation to the ORIC request, the unfortunate and almost comical accumulation of what I term administrative misadventures points to potential broader issues related to the agency’s capability and commitment to monitoring the governance standards of the corporations in receipt of so-called royalty equivalents under the NT land rights legislation. The Act provides for the payment of ‘affected community’ monies arising from mining on ALRA titled land to be paid to corporations established under the Corporations (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander) Act 2006 (CATSI Act) which establishes the Registrar of Indigenous Corporations and ORIC. There is thus an implicit expectation in the ALRA legislation that these corporations will be appropriately governed and that there will be capable (and culturally sensitive) regulatory oversight.

 

It is patently clear that there have been serious corporate governance and accountability issues in relation to the governance of some of the CATSI corporations on Groote, including GHAC, for most of the last decade (link here and link here). This in turn raises the question: how has this been allowed to both occur and persist.

 

Transparency in relation to the adequacy and effectiveness of the regulatory oversight of these corporations (and others elsewhere in the NT in receipt of s64(3) payments) has been minimal. In these circumstances, the defensive and unnerving approach of ORIC to my comparatively simple FOI request suggests that there are underlying issues within ORIC that surely demand attention. This conclusion is reinforced by the matters discussed in my recent post related to the problematic nature of ORIC’s more general regulatory performance (link here).

 

In relation to the NIAA, a request that evolves into two separate requests, that together take the better part of two months to progress past a first internal meeting, that takes seven months to process from initial request to finalisation of internal review, that gives the subject of the documents who have a vested interest in avoiding embarrassing disclosures more opportunity to be heard than the person asking to see them, and that runs a final check past the very executives whose agency's earlier decision is under review, is not a process that inspires confidence in the commitment of the Executive arm of Government to the principles and objects of the FOI Act.

 

Conclusion

 

What these two matters have in common is not just delay and discretion exercised against disclosure, but a recurring willingness to withhold or redact the specific — names, findings, factual detail — in favour of the general. A further post will explore the systemic erasure of the recent history of what has transpired on Groote Eylandt over the past decade and consider how this contributes to making this history unintelligible and thus able to be reframed in ways that shift responsibility and shape the publicly available narrative going forward. A key focus will be to examine one instance of that pattern of erasure in more detail: the treatment, across the NIAA FOI releases discussed here, of the role of the former ALC Chair, the late Mr T. Wurramarrba.

 

At a higher level, both case studies raise the same issue: the public interest is systemically made subservient to the pressures for secrecy, avoiding accountability, and the erection of barriers to the access of information concerning the ways in which governments seek to manage what is, admittedly, an increasingly complex public policy environment. The risk however is that these broader trends increase the risks of corruption arising and spreading. It is no coincidence that the electorates demand for better public governance had been met with the establishment of anti-corruption institutions across most Australian jurisdictions. Unfortunately, nor is it surprising that in doing so, governments have in various ways constrained their remit and hobbled their operations. The experience of the National Anti-Corruption Commission at the Commonwealth level over recent years is a case in point.

 

 In this context, it is worth reminding ourselves of the principles underlying the establishment of the Freedom of Information regime and contemplating whether they have been in any substantive sense achieved.

 

Section 3 of the legislation states (emphasis added):

 

3. Objects—general

 

 (1) The objects of this Act are to give the Australian community access to information held by the Government of the Commonwealth, by:

 (a) requiring agencies to publish the information; and

 (b) providing for a right of access to documents.

 (2) The Parliament intends, by these objects, to promote Australia’s representative democracy by contributing towards the following:

(a) increasing public participation in Government processes, with a view to promoting betterinformed decisionmaking;

(b) increasing scrutiny, discussion, comment and review of the Government’s activities.

 (3) The Parliament also intends, by these objects, to increase recognition that information held by the Government is to be managed for public purposes, and is a national resource.

 (4) The Parliament also intends that functions and powers given by this Act are to be performed and exercised, as far as possible, to facilitate and promote public access to information, promptly and at the lowest reasonable cost.

 

 

16 July 2026

 

 

This post has been produced with research assistance from Claude Sonnet 5

 

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