If the Albanese government wants to cheat the populist death spiral, it needs to go to the barricades with the rest of us | Peter Lewis

A “populist death spiral” is a self-reinforcing political crisis. Worsening living conditions make people distrust established parties. That distrust strengthens populist movements, which then make normal political compromise harder. Governments can appear even less capable, producing more anger and further support for outsiders.

The article links this danger to Australia’s deteriorating economic mood and Labor’s weak polling. People are feeling pressure in their hip pockets, physical health and emotional wellbeing. One Nation’s rise shows the risk to the Coalition, but Labor also faces a backlash. Its difficulty explaining global shocks leaves voters looking for simpler, more forceful alternatives.

The danger is not limited to rightwing politics. Progressive protests can also grow when governments fail to provide services or integrity. To avoid the spiral, the government needs a clear explanation of events, practical improvements for working people and a stronger role as the champion of change.

The polling picture is clearly troubling, although the article cautions that midterm polls can be skittish. Labor’s primary vote is stuck below 30%. Disapproval of the prime minister has reached an historic high. Broader public sentiment about the nation’s direction is also described as dire. Together, these signs suggest a substantial loss of confidence.

The concern extends beyond voting intention. The Guardian Essential Report found that worsening economic conditions are affecting many Australians’ physical and emotional wellbeing. That gives the political problem a material foundation. People are not simply reacting to slogans or campaign tactics; they are experiencing pressure in daily life.

The article does not present one poll as a final election result. Instead, it describes a deteriorating political environment that could intensify if Labor cannot explain the crisis or improve lives. The government must act while also communicating clearly, because silence may leave space for populist challengers.

US tariffs can damage the global economy by disrupting trade and increasing costs. An oil shock adds direct pressure because energy affects transport, production and household expenses. The article says the global oil shock is making Australia’s economic pain worse, beyond the usual dispute over government spending and inflation.

The mechanism is both financial and psychological. Higher costs squeeze people’s “hip pockets”, leaving less money for ordinary needs. The Guardian Essential Report found that worsening conditions are affecting physical and emotional wellbeing. When people see prices rising and governments struggling to respond, they may conclude that elected representatives cannot protect them.

That can reduce confidence in the Albanese government even when the original shocks come from overseas. Blaming Trump may look like avoiding responsibility, but claiming the government can fix a global energy crisis may exaggerate its responsibility. The government therefore faces pressure to explain the shock and show practical help without worsening inflation.

The Albanese government is constrained because Australia’s economic and security plans are closely tied to Washington. The article identifies AUKUS and US AI hyperscalers as central to the government’s national economic plan. Openly attacking the US president could therefore create diplomatic, security and economic risks.

The government has sometimes challenged the White House and technology companies. The article points to the news media bargaining code, the social media ban and the digital duty of care. More broadly, however, it has skilfully withdrawn Australia from the president’s line of sight. That restraint helps protect an important relationship, but it also limits public criticism.

This creates a political contradiction. Australians are described as less enthusiastic about a future tethered to the US than the emerging Canberra consensus. Yet the government depends on that relationship. Its silence can make it look evasive when people want an explanation for economic chaos linked to US decisions.

AUKUS is the Australia-United Kingdom-United States security partnership. In broad terms, it supports cooperation on advanced defence capabilities and strengthens Australia’s military relationship with Washington and London. US technology investment refers here to the “AI hyper-scalers” whose large-scale computing and artificial-intelligence activity attracts Australian economic interest.

The article presents both as more than separate projects. It calls AUKUS a form of “military Keynesian” activity and says the allure of US AI hyper-scalers is central to the national economic plan. This means security cooperation, industrial activity, technology and investment are bundled into one strategic relationship.

That importance creates a constraint. The government may want to criticise US tariffs, the oil shock or the war in Iran, but it risks unsettling relationships that underpin its plans. The article also notes that Australians are less enthusiastic about a future tethered to the US than Canberra’s consensus, creating a widening political tension.

Earlier political leadership, as represented by Paul Keating, treated explanation as a central response to crisis. During the last great global disruption, Keating built a coherent account of what was happening and why difficult choices were necessary. The article presents that communication skill as a model for the Albanese government.

The memorable phrase “banana republic” is the example. It reduced a complicated economic moment to language ordinary voters could understand and remember. The mechanism was not simply repetition. It connected global disruption to Australia’s national choices, giving people a framework for interpreting pain and political action.

The current environment is harder because information is fragmented. Even so, the article argues that a clear message can still cut through. The government needs to explain the global energy shock, its limits and its response. Without that explanation, voters may see silence as weakness or blame-shifting, leaving room for populists to define the crisis.

Worsening living standards create a shared sense that established systems are failing. But that feeling does not produce one automatic political response. Some people may turn to rightwing populists who present national identity, immigration or outsiders as the cause. Others may join progressive movements demanding better services and more honest government.

The article gives several examples. In France, school conditions drove students into the streets. In Argentina, university funding became the focus. In India, the Cockroach movement arose from examination fraud. In Spain, Italy and Portugal, affordable housing was the target. These movements differ, but each connects material hardship or institutional failure with political anger.

This matters because the populist backlash is broader than rightwing nativism. Many protests have been led by gen Z, whose material prospects are reduced by failing housing markets and weak services. The government could respond by championing change, rebuilding capacity and improving workplace protections around AI adoption.