In Australia, as in many Western democracies, the media often frames complex societal debates as “culture wars,” reducing intricate issues to simplistic narratives that obscure deeper ideological struggles. The term “culture wars” has become a catchphrase, applied to controversies that shape public discourse, particularly in the realm of education. This post explores the current debate surrounding critical race theory (CRT) in Australian schools, drawing parallels to the sex education controversies of the 1970s. Through this comparative analysis, we can see that these culture wars are not mere skirmishes over values or lifestyles but represent concerted efforts by conservative forces to shape education in ways that align with a narrow vision of Australian identity – one that prioritises a homogenous, often Anglo-Christian perspective.
The “Culture Wars” Frame in Australian Media
The concept of “culture wars” emerged in the 1990s, borrowed from the United States, where it described polarised debates over issues like abortion, religion and multiculturalism. In Australia, this term has been extended to encompass a range of issues, from Indigenous rights and immigration to gender identity and climate change. By framing these debates as “wars,” the media suggests a binary conflict between two equally matched sides, often trivialising the stakes involved. This framing obscures the asymmetry of power and intent, particularly when conservative groups seek to impose minority views on a diverse society.
In the context of education, the “culture wars” label has been applied to debates over curriculum content, from the teaching of Indigenous history to discussions of gender and sexuality. These debates reflect long-standing tensions over who gets to define Australian identity and values. The media’s use of the term often downplays the seriousness of these conflicts, presenting them as battles over “woke” versus “traditional” values rather than struggles over power, representation and truth in education.
Critical Race Theory in Australian Schools: A Contemporary Flashpoint
Recently, critical race theory has emerged as a lightning rod in Australian education debates, mirroring controversies in the United States. CRT, developed in the 1970s to analyse systemic racism in legal and social institutions, has been misconstrued by critics as a divisive ideology that promotes racial guilt or anti-white sentiment. In Australia, where the term is less commonly used in academic circles, CRT has been weaponised in public discourse to attack efforts to teach about systemic racism, colonialism and Indigenous dispossession.
The controversy gained traction in 2021 when conservative politicians and media outlets criticised the Australian Curriculum for allegedly incorporating “divisive” concepts. For instance, the inclusion of topics like the Stolen Generations and the impacts of colonisation was labelled by some as “CRT-inspired” or “woke indoctrination.” News Corp publications, such as The Australian and The Daily Telegraph, ran opinion pieces warning that such teachings would alienate students or undermine national unity. Sky News Australia amplified these concerns, with commentators arguing that schools were becoming battlegrounds for ideological agendas.
In reality, the Australian Curriculum does not explicitly reference CRT. Instead, it emphasises cross-curricular priorities like Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Histories and Cultures, which aim to foster understanding of Australia’s colonial past and its ongoing effects. However, conservative groups, including the Institute of Public Affairs and One Nation, have framed these efforts as attempts to impose a “left-wing” or “anti-Australian” narrative. They argue that teaching about systemic racism or historical injustices risks shaming students or eroding pride in Australia’s achievements.
This backlash has had tangible effects. In 2022, the Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA) faced pressure to revise its history and civics curricula to ensure “balance.” Some politicians, such as Liberal Senator James Paterson, called for greater parental oversight of what is taught, echoing demands in the United States for “transparency” in education. Meanwhile, grassroots campaigns, often amplified on social media platforms, have mobilised parents to challenge school policies, claiming that “CRT” undermines traditional values.
The CRT controversy illustrates how the “culture wars” frame distorts complex issues. By conflating nuanced discussions of history with a foreign academic theory, critics have created a strawman that simplifies and polarises the debate. This tactic is not about engaging with the substance of what is taught but about rallying a conservative base by invoking fears of cultural erosion. It also distracts from broader issues, such as chronic underfunding of public schools or disparities in educational outcomes for Indigenous students.
The Sex Education Controversy of the 1970s: A Historical Parallel
To understand the CRT debate, it is instructive to revisit a similar controversy from 50 years ago: the battle over sex education in Australian schools. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, as Australia grappled with the social upheavals of the sexual revolution, women’s liberation and changing attitudes toward morality, sex education became a focal point of public debate. The introduction of programs addressing topics like contraception, gender roles and human relationships sparked fierce opposition from conservative groups who viewed them as threats to traditional family values.
In states like Victoria and New South Wales, where education systems were experimenting with progressive curricula, sex education programs were often developed by educators and health professionals to address rising rates of teenage pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections. These programs aimed to provide factual information and foster open discussions, moving away from the moralistic approaches of earlier decades. However, they were met with resistance from religious organisations, parent groups and conservative politicians who argued that such teachings undermined Christian values and encouraged promiscuity.
The media played a significant role in amplifying the controversy. Tabloids and talkback radio portrayed sex education as a radical agenda pushed by “progressive elites,” often exaggerating the content of programs to stoke outrage. Despite evidence that most programs were age-appropriate and focused on biology and relationships, conservative groups organised campaigns to pressure schools and governments to abandon or heavily censor sex education.
Politicians seized on the issue as a wedge to mobilise voters. In Queensland, the Bjelke-Petersen government, known for its socially conservative policies, restricted sex education in state schools, citing the need to protect “community standards.” In federal politics, the Liberal Party under Malcolm Fraser faced pressure from its conservative wing to limit Commonwealth funding for progressive educational initiatives. These efforts were often low-cost in terms of policy but high-yield in terms of political capital, galvanising religious and socially conservative voters without requiring significant public expenditure.
The parallels with the CRT debate are striking. Like CRT, sex education was framed as a dangerous ideology that threatened to corrupt young minds and erode national values. Both controversies involved the misrepresentation of educational content to create moral panic. In the 1970s, critics exaggerated the explicitness of sex education; today, they misconstrue historical teachings as “CRT.” Both also reflect a broader conservative strategy to control the narrative of Australian identity by shaping what is taught in schools.
The Goals of the “Culture Warriors”
At the heart of both controversies lies a struggle over power and identity. The conservative forces driving these debates are not merely reacting to educational changes; they are proactively seeking to impose a vision of Australia that aligns with a minority view – one that emphasises Anglo-Christian heritage, traditional gender roles and a sanitised version of history. This vision is often at odds with Australia’s multicultural reality, where over 30% of the population was born overseas and Indigenous voices are increasingly central to national conversations.
In the 1970s, opponents of sex education were motivated by a desire to preserve a moral framework rooted in Christian teachings and patriarchal family structures. They saw schools as extensions of the home, where parents, not educators, should dictate values. By framing sex education as a threat to innocence, they tapped into broader anxieties about social change, including the rise of feminism and the decriminalisation of homosexuality.
Similarly, critics of CRT and related curricula today are driven by a fear of losing cultural dominance in a rapidly diversifying society. The emphasis on Indigenous histories and systemic racism challenges a narrative of Australia as a uniformly successful, egalitarian nation. For some, acknowledging historical injustices threatens the myth of national exceptionalism, which celebrates figures like Captain Cook while downplaying the violence of colonisation. By attacking “CRT,” conservative groups aim to maintain a curriculum that reinforces their version of Australian identity, even if it excludes the experiences of marginalised groups.
These efforts are not spontaneous but part of a broader strategy. In both eras, conservative think tanks, religious organisations and media outlets have coordinated campaigns to shape public opinion and influence policy. Today, groups like Advance Australia and the Centre for Independent Studies provide intellectual cover for anti-CRT arguments, while platforms like Sky News and social media amplify their reach. This mirrors the role of groups like the Festival of Light in the 1970s, which leveraged media and grassroots activism to push back against progressive reforms.
The Political Utility of Wedge Issues
Historically, wedge issues have been a cost-effective way for politicians to mobilise voters. In the 1970s, sex education was a classic wedge, allowing conservative politicians to rally their base without committing to expensive policy changes. By focusing on moral issues, they could distract from thornier problems like economic inequality or Indigenous land rights, which required more complex solutions.
The CRT debate serves a similar function today. By framing curriculum changes as a cultural threat, politicians can energise conservative voters while avoiding substantive debates about education funding, teacher shortages or the achievement gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous students. For instance, in 2023, the Coalition proposed a “parents’ bill of rights” to give families more say over school curricula, a policy that costs little but signals a commitment to “traditional values.” Such moves are designed to appeal to suburban and regional voters who feel alienated by rapid social change.
However, the use of wedge issues has evolved. In the 1970s, politicians could rely on discrete issues like sex education or abortion to turn out the vote. Today, the “culture wars” encompass a broader range of issues, from climate change denial to anti-transgender rhetoric, creating a more pervasive sense of cultural grievance. Social media platforms have amplified this dynamic, allowing politicians and commentators to sustain outrage cycles that keep wedge issues in the public eye.
The Cost of the “Culture Wars” Frame
The media’s reliance on the “culture wars” frame has significant consequences. By presenting educational debates as battles between “progressives” and “conservatives,” it oversimplifies the issues and marginalises the voices of those most affected, such as Indigenous communities or students seeking inclusive education. It also fuels polarisation, making it harder for educators to teach contentious topics without fear of backlash.
Moreover, the frame distracts from systemic issues in Australian education. While politicians and media focus on CRT or “woke” curricula, public schools face chronic underfunding, with Australia ranking poorly among OECD countries for education investment. Indigenous students continue to experience lower graduation rates and literacy outcomes, yet these issues receive less attention than symbolic battles over curriculum content.
The sex education controversy of the 1970s eventually subsided as programs became normalised, but not without lasting effects. Some states retained restrictive policies and the stigma around sex education persisted, delaying comprehensive reforms. The CRT debate risks a similar legacy, with the potential to chill discussions of racism and history in schools, undermining efforts to create a more inclusive education system.
Conclusion: Moving Beyond the “Culture Wars”
The “culture wars” frame, as applied to debates over critical race theory and sex education, misrepresents the stakes of these controversies. These are not battles over abstract values but struggles over who gets to define Australian identity and how the nation’s past and present are taught to future generations. By comparing the CRT debate with the sex education controversy of the 1970s, we see a consistent pattern: conservative forces leveraging wedge issues to impose a narrow vision of society, often at the expense of marginalised groups.
To move beyond this cycle, Australia needs a more honest public discourse that prioritises evidence over outrage. Educators, policymakers and the media must resist the temptation to reduce complex issues to simplistic narratives. This means acknowledging the diversity of Australian society and ensuring that curricula reflect the experiences of all its members, not just a privileged minority. It also means addressing the structural challenges facing education, from funding to teacher training, rather than allowing symbolic battles to dominate the conversation.
Ultimately, the goal of education is to equip students to navigate a complex world, not to serve as a battleground for ideological agendas. By rejecting the “culture wars” frame and focusing on inclusive, evidence-based teaching, Australia can foster a more equitable and informed society – one that honours its past while embracing its multicultural future.
