As we approach the end of 2025, a year marked by economic uncertainty, political upheaval, and a surge in social tensions, images from recent events continue to haunt our collective consciousness. Neo-Nazis marching boldly through the streets our cities, their voices echoing with anti-immigrant chants as they clash violently with counter-protesters. A sacred Indigenous site desecrated in a brazen act of hatred, leaving communities shattered and demanding justice. Reports of anti-Asian hate crimes spiking amid global economic strains, with Indian-Australians and other migrant groups facing increased verbal and physical assaults in everyday settings like public transport and workplaces. Many Australians have watched these scenes unfold on their screens with a mix of shock, denial, and horror. How could this be happening in our laid-back, multicultural nation in 2025? Politicians have been quick to declare, “This isn’t who we are as Australians.”
But let’s confront the uncomfortable truth: This is exactly who we are, or at least a persistent part of our identity that refuses to fade. From the lingering shadows of the White Australia Policy to the fresh wounds of the failed Voice to Parliament referendum, racism has been embedded in our national story. It’s not an aberration; it’s a thread running through our history of colonisation, migration waves, and unresolved reconciliation efforts. In the midst of these modern conflicts, experts in psychology, sociology, and cultural studies are intensifying their research into the roots of racism in Australia. Drawing on global insights but tailoring them to our unique context – marked by Indigenous dispossession, diverse immigration patterns, and a colonial legacy – I’ve consulted with local researchers to explore why racism endures and occasionally erupts into violence. This blog post is a deep dive into that exploration, aiming to unpack the causes, triggers, and potential paths forward for a more equitable Australia.
What causes people to be racist in Australia? At its core, the answer is disarmingly straightforward, as explained by Dr. Sarah Thompson, a social psychologist at the University of Sydney. People absorb racism from the society and culture that surrounds them. We often imagine it requires deliberate indoctrination, parents actively instilling hatred in their children, but the reality is far more insidious. Without proactive efforts to teach anti-racism, biases form naturally. Thompson draws parallels to Australia’s historical narrative: the doctrine of terra nullius, which falsely declared the continent empty despite thousands of years of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander custodianship, set the stage for systemic exclusion. Post-World War II immigration policies that prioritised European settlers reinforced notions of racial hierarchy. Children pick up on these subtle cues early on, much like a new student navigating high school cliques: figuring out who’s “in,” who’s “out,” who’s truly “Aussie,” and who gets labelled as the perpetual outsider.
Recent studies in Australia underscore this environmental influence. A comprehensive report from the Australian Human Rights Commission in 2025 revealed how even understated media representations, such as news coverage that sidelines Indigenous perspectives during events like NAIDOC Week or portrays migrants primarily as economic drains, can amplify implicit biases. An experiment conducted at Monash University exposed participants to neutral television clips depicting interactions in multicultural settings. Those clips featuring subtle nonverbal discomfort between individuals from different ethnic backgrounds resulted in participants scoring higher on implicit bias tests afterward. “It’s the air we breathe,” Thompson emphasises. From childhood playground taunts like “go back to where you came from” to adult workplace microaggressions, such as assuming a colleague with an accent is less competent, these experiences normalise division and othering.
Our biology plays a role too, though it’s often overstated. Dr. Michael Chen, a neurology specialist at the University of New South Wales, points out that humans possess an innate tendency toward in-group favouritism, a survival mechanism rooted in our evolutionary past, when sticking with familiar tribes meant safety. However, the way we define those groups and draw boundaries along racial or ethnic lines is entirely social and cultural, not biological. “We can slice society in countless ways,” Chen says. “In Australia, it’s often along racial lines because our history and media tell us to, think of the Cronulla Riots two decades ago, where Lebanese-Australians were targeted, or today’s anti-immigration protests that frame newcomers as threats to ‘our way of life.'”
In 2025, these divisions are intensifying amid record-high net migration driven by skilled worker programs and humanitarian intakes, coupled with a national housing crisis. Rallies like the “March for Australia” events in September drew crowds chanting slogans that blended economic grievances with racial undertones: “Aussies first.” While participants often cite job competition or strained public services, underlying fears of cultural dilution surface repeatedly. Yet economic data consistently shows that migrants boost GDP through innovation and labour contributions, it’s the perceived threat, amplified by misinformation, that perpetuates bias. Social media platforms exacerbate this, with algorithms curating echo chambers where users are fed content reinforcing their preconceptions, turning mild unease into entrenched prejudice.
When does this pervasive, everyday racism escalate into outright violence? The key predictor, according to Dr. Alex Rivera, a prejudice researcher at the Australian National University, is exposure to organised ideology. Most Australians carry some level of unconscious bias or unexamined resentment – surveys from the Scanlon Foundation in 2025 indicate that one in three people from minority backgrounds have experienced racism in the past year, with Indigenous and Asian Australians reporting the highest rates. These feelings might remain private, simmering beneath the surface, until they’re weaponized by extremist groups.
Rivera highlights organisations like the National Socialist Network, which cultivate a “siege mentality” among followers. Their rhetoric legitimises racial fears by portraying white Australians as victims of reverse discrimination or cultural erasure. Slogans such as “White Lives Matter” or “You will not replace us” adapt global white supremacist tropes to local anxieties about demographic shifts. Projections from the Australian Bureau of Statistics suggest that by 2050, people of Anglo-Celtic descent could comprise less than half the population, a change that’s already sparking unease in some quarters. The September 2025 attack on an Indigenous sacred site, where neo-Nazis armed with torches and inflammatory banners vandalised a symbol of Aboriginal resistance, exemplifies this. It wasn’t spontaneous; it was fuelled by ideology that transforms personal prejudices into collective action, justifying violence as defence.
Political discourse contributes significantly. In 2025, figures known for anti-immigration stances have amplified these narratives, railing against refugee intakes from conflict zones like Gaza with comments implying cultural incompatibility. When leaders delay or equivocate in condemning hate groups – taking days to denounce rallies that devolve into chaos, it sends a tacit signal that such views are tolerable. Rivera notes spikes in Islamophobia following global events, with calls for stronger interventions from human rights bodies. Historical echoes are clear: the 2005 Cronulla Riots, incited by text message campaigns and sensationalist media, turned community tensions into mob violence against Middle Eastern Australians. Today, social media accelerates the process, with viral threads predicting dystopian futures under “sharia law” if migration isn’t curbed, garnering widespread engagement and normalising extreme positions.
Similar patterns appear in other incidents. The Christchurch mosque shootings in 2019 had Australian connections, with the perpetrator’s manifesto decrying “replacement” by non-white immigrants, a theme that resonates in contemporary Australian far-right circles. Everyday racism, studied by researchers like Rivera for nearly two decades, hasn’t diminished in baseline levels; instead, it’s being “unleashed” by permissive environments. Economic struggles, such as rising unemployment in regional areas, make people more receptive to ideologies that scapegoat minorities, providing a simple explanation for complex problems.
But can we teach people not to be racist? The experts are cautiously optimistic, emphasising that change must start with culture. “The only way to shift biases is to alter what’s socially acceptable,” Thompson argues. “Complaints about ‘political correctness’ miss the point, it acts as a brake on overt expressions of hate, which in turn influences internal attitudes.” In 2025, national initiatives like the Anti-Racism Framework are pushing for this, integrating education into schools, workplaces, and public campaigns to challenge stereotypes and promote inclusivity.
Norms alone, however, aren’t sufficient. “We need meaningful contact,” Chen stresses. “Integrated interactions on equal footing build trust and dismantle us-versus-them divides.” This is the polar opposite of what segregationist ideologies advocate. Programs such as corporate Reconciliation Action Plans, which encourage collaboration between Indigenous and non-Indigenous employees, or community sports leagues that mix cultural groups, demonstrate tangible benefits. A 2025 study from the University of Melbourne found that residents in diverse neighbourhoods with equitable socioeconomic conditions report significantly lower levels of prejudice compared to segregated or unequal areas.
The healthcare sector illustrates both the problem and potential solutions. Reports from the Royal Australian College of General Practitioners in 2025 highlighted that one in three doctors have witnessed racism toward patients – Indigenous Australians receiving dismissive treatment or migrants facing misdiagnoses due to language barriers and cultural misunderstandings. Implementing cultural competency training modules has shown promise in reducing these incidents, but broader systemic reforms, like increasing diverse representation in medical staff, are essential for lasting change.
One persistent myth is that racism will naturally dissipate over time, as older generations pass and younger, more progressive ones take their place. Unfortunately, 2025 data shatters this illusion. While millennials and Gen Z often align with progressive stances on issues like climate change and LGBTQ+ rights, their levels of implicit racial bias remain comparable to those of older cohorts. Far-right influencers on platforms like TikTok and X are radicalising young white men at alarming rates, as evidenced by the demographics of participants in anti-immigration rallies – many under 30, drawn in by memes and videos that blend humour with hate.
Thompson’s ongoing research into demographic shifts provides sobering insights. When white Australians are presented with information about becoming a numerical minority, reactions include heightened anxiety and uncertainty, leading to increased endorsement of statements favouring ethnic homogeneity, such as preferring to work with people of similar backgrounds. This response cuts across age groups, including college students, mirroring patterns observed in other countries but amplified here by debates over migration policy and national identity.
Australia’s historical baggage compounds the issue. The White Australia Policy, formally dismantled in 1973, left a rhetorical legacy that resurfaces in contemporary anti-immigration arguments. Racism toward Indigenous peoples has seen a notable uptick in surveys following the Voice referendum’s defeat, with attitudes reflecting unresolved guilt, denial, or resentment over calls for treaty and truth-telling. “We can’t simply wait for the ‘old racist men in the bush’ to die off,” Rivera warns. “The structures and narratives sustaining racism are still intact – media portrayals, educational gaps, economic inequalities. Without dismantling them, progress stalls.”
To broaden the perspective, Australia’s experience with racism isn’t unique; it’s part of a global resurgence fuelled by populism, economic disparity, and digital amplification. Yet, our self-image as a successful multicultural society, home to over 300 ancestries, celebrated through vibrant festivals like Harmony Day, offers a foundation for hope. Still, 2025 has been challenging: anti-Indian racism surged following economic reports highlighting competition in tech sectors, with families enduring abuse despite their vital contributions to innovation and community life. Personal accounts from affected individuals describe the exhaustion of constantly proving one’s worth in a society that claims equality but often falls short.
Education emerges as a cornerstone for change. Schools incorporating First Nations histories in line with the Uluru Statement from the Heart are making strides, fostering empathy from a young age. But implementation varies by state, and parental involvement is crucial – encouraging children to question biases in everything from animated films that stereotype cultures to news stories that sensationalise minority crimes.
The media bears responsibility too. Shifting from fear-mongering headlines about “migrant invasions” to balanced narratives showcasing success stories, entrepreneurs from refugee backgrounds building businesses, or Indigenous leaders driving environmental initiatives, can cultivate empathy and counter division.
Policy plays a pivotal role. Stronger hate speech laws, such as those updated in Victoria in 2025 amid rising incidents, provide deterrence. Federal appointments of envoys to combat Islamophobia and antisemitism signal commitment, though enforcement remains key. Community-driven actions, like the “Unite Against Racism” rallies in October 2025 that drew diverse crowds in solidarity, demonstrate grassroots power. Everyday Australians can contribute by calling out casual racism, whether it’s a “joke” at a barbecue or an assumption in a meeting, creating ripples of accountability.
Delving deeper into the causes, Australia’s colonial legacy looms large. The arrival of the First Fleet in 1788 initiated a process of dispossession that continues to reverberate. Terra nullius not only justified land theft, but instilled a cultural superiority complex that persists in subtle ways, such as the underfunding of Indigenous communities or the tokenistic inclusion of Aboriginal art in public spaces without addressing systemic inequities. Today, this manifests in programs like Closing the Gap, which aim to address disparities in health, education, and incarceration, but fall short of targets year after year. Indigenous life expectancy still lags by nearly eight years, a stark reminder of ongoing neglect.
Implicit bias tests administered nationwide reveal that over 70% of Australians exhibit pro-white preferences, even among those who consciously reject racism. These tests, involving rapid associations between words and images, uncover subconscious leanings shaped by pervasive cultural messages. Well-meaning individuals might volunteer for multicultural events yet harbour unexamined assumptions that influence hiring decisions or social interactions.
Economic factors intertwine with racial dynamics. In periods of hardship, like 2025’s cost-of-living crisis exacerbated by inflation and housing shortages, scapegoating minorities becomes a convenient outlet. Blame is shifted onto migrants for straining resources, ignoring root causes such as inadequate government planning or corporate profiteering. Regional areas, hit hard by job losses in manufacturing and mining, see higher rates of xenophobia, where local identities feel threatened by urban diversity.
Social media’s echo chambers deserve special scrutiny. Algorithms prioritise engagement, often amplifying divisive content. Posts speculating about Australia becoming a “white minority” by 2080 spread virally, blending factual demographic trends with alarmist interpretations. This creates feedback loops where users’ feeds become increasingly polarized, reinforcing biases and isolating them from counter-narratives.
Triggers for violence often involve a “siege mentality” cultivated by fringe groups. Organisations recruiting through gyms, online forums, or community events target those feeling economically or culturally displaced, offering camaraderie wrapped in ideology. The Melbourne clashes in September 2025, where protests against immigration policies turned violent, illustrate this: what began as peaceful demonstrations escalated as extremist elements incited confrontations, resulting in injuries and arrests.
Parallels to international events, like the Charleston church shooting, are evident in Australian cases. The perpetrator’s justification of violence as “action for my race” echoes manifestos from local extremists, who frame their acts as resistance against perceived erasure. While Australia’s strict gun laws mitigate some risks, the potential for harm through other means, vehicles, arson, or online harassment, remains.
In teaching anti-racism, school curricula offer a frontline. Victoria’s Respectful Relationships program, which includes modules on cultural awareness, has reduced reported bias incidents by up to 20% in pilot schools. Expanding this nationally, with teacher training to handle sensitive discussions, could foster generational change.
Contact theory in practice shines in initiatives like mixed-ethnicity sports teams in Sydney’s western suburbs, where shared goals on the field translate to off-field friendships, eroding stereotypes. Similarly, workplace diversity programs that pair employees from different backgrounds for projects build mutual understanding.
In healthcare, addressing racism requires more than awareness, structural changes like recruiting more Indigenous and migrant doctors, and integrating traditional healing practices, can improve outcomes. Stories of patients leaving appointments feeling unheard highlight the human cost, underscoring the urgency.
The generational myth persists despite evidence to the contrary. Young neo-Nazis dominating rally crowds disprove the notion of automatic progress; social media’s rapid radicalisation outpaces traditional education. Exposure to diverse viewpoints early on is critical to counter this.
Demographic anxiety is a flashpoint. Studies showing white participants’ bias increasing upon learning of population shifts suggest proactive dialogues are needed – framing diversity as strength rather than threat.
Political rhetoric’s influence can’t be understated. Dog-whistle comments on refugees or cultural integration normalise fringe views, eroding social cohesion. Leaders must model unequivocal condemnation of hate.
Solutions abound: mandatory bias training in workplaces has yielded results in tech firms, reducing discriminatory practices. Community stories, like op-eds from Indian-Australians detailing the toll of racism, humanise the issue and spur empathy.
Indigenous perspectives, such as those from leaders advocating for systemic police reforms, remind us that racism intersects with justice systems, where overrepresentation in custody persists.
Comparing globally, Australia’s implicit bias levels mirror the U.S., but our lower rates of lethal violence offer a buffer, yet vigilance is key to prevent escalation.
Looking to the future, without concerted effort, 2050 could entrench divides further. But with inclusive policies, education, and community engagement, we can realise our multicultural potential.
In conclusion, racism in Australia isn’t an inevitable fate. It’s a product of history and environment, but one we can reshape through collective action. As 2025 draws to a close, let’s commit to building a nation where diversity is truly celebrated, not just tolerated. The work starts with each of us, questioning our biases, amplifying marginalised voices, and demanding better from our leaders. Only then can we move toward a more just and unified Australia.