Australia’s Dirtiest Open Secret: We Export the Climate Problem
- Gregory Andrews
- 11 hours ago
- 2 min read
As I waited for the Stockton Ferry to cross the Hunter River this morning, the truth sat in the air. I could smell coal. I could feel its dust in my eyes. Looking across to Newcastle’s loaders and endless coal trains, I saw what Australia rarely says out loud: we’re not just a coal country; we’re an coal export nation. We're shipping the problem offshore while counting the profits at home.
Newcastle is the world's largest coal port. It ships out 150 million tonnes of coal a year.
So how much do we ship in total? Our government's own energy statistics show we export over 330 million tonnes of coal each year. Shiploads - daily, weekly, yearly - leaving from places like Newcastle.
And here’s the part that almost never makes it into our national conversation: when those Australian coal exports are burned overseas, they release around 1.15 billion tonnes of CO₂ a year. Cumulatively, since I was born, we've exported over 30 billion tonnes of CO₂. That’s our offshore climate footprint. We don’t count these as “our” emissions, but the atmosphere doesn’t care about creative accounting and excuses like that. CO₂ molecules are CO₂ molecules, wherever they're released.
When you ride past the coal berths and breathe the dust and feel it in your eyes, you see our national policy laid bare: expand exports, outsource the warming. Export earnings have been easing as coal prices cool, but volumes remain stubbornly high. Official forecasts keep thermal coal exports at over 205 Mt a year, even as the world supposedly commits to phasing down coal. In other words, we’re planning to stay in the export game while hoping others decarbonise.
We can keep ignoring the smell of coal on the breeze and tell ourselves that because the smoke is emitted overseas, it isn’t ours. Or we can meet reality with integrity: no new coal, a managed decline of existing mines with genuine transition support for workers and regions, and a rapid build-up of clean industry at home.
This morning on the Hunter, the choice felt simple. The wind was blowing seaward, but the truth was blowing straight back in my face.
