Bondi: Australia's Choice To Lead Again On Gun Control

Immediately after Bondi, a familiar chorus started to arrive from the United States: “See? Your gun laws didn’t stop it.” The insinuation was that more guns would have somehow prevented the terror.

It’s a strange thing to watch people from a country that has normalised gun death as a daily feature of public life try to lecture Australians about what works.

In the US, close to 50,000 people die from guns each year. That's about 14 deaths per 100,000 people. Australia’s rate is a fraction of that. If Bondi had played out in a jurisdiction like the US where high-capacity rapid-fire weapons and accessories are easier to obtain, the toll in minutes could have been far higher. That is not ideology; it is simple lethality.

So no - Australia’s gun laws did not cause Bondi. Our gun restrictions are part of why we don't endure American-scale gun carnage every week.

But Bondi did reveal something we've been ignoring for years: our “gold standard” on gun restrictions has dulled. It isn’t enough to have good laws on paper if the system allows stockpiling, weak ongoing scrutiny, uneven state rules, and complacency about risk.

That’s why the most important development since the attack isn’t the imported commentary. It’s what happened here, at home.

On Monday, the Prime Minister convened an urgent National Cabinet meeting, and every state and territory leader agreed unanimously to strengthen Australia’s gun laws. That unity matters. It says: we are not going to be paralysed by polarisation, or bullied by the gun lobby, or shamed into fatalism by foreign culture wars. We are going to act to protect Australians.

What National Cabinet got right - and why it matters

The package to be developed has the bones of a serious reform agenda: accelerating a national firearms register; limiting how many guns one person can own; tightening what weapons are legal; and making Australian citizenship a condition of holding a firearm licence. They also agreed to explore the use of additional criminal intelligence to underpin licensing, and customs restrictions on imports. And leaders also flagged renegotiation of the National Firearms Agreement.

This is all good news. But “good” and “enough” aren't the same thing. The reforms will only succeed if they are specific, enforceable, nationally consistent, and properly resourced. In other words: if we are serious about being world leaders again, we need to finish the job - not just announce it.

What world-leading reform should actually look like

World leadership isn’t defined by press conferences. Here's what I believe Australia should now build, alongside the National Cabinet measures already on the table.

First, we need national minimum standards with real teeth - not a patchwork where the weakest jurisdiction quietly sets the effective national baseline. A national register is essential, but it will not save lives if categories, exemptions, renewal rules, storage enforcement, and inspection regimes vary wildly across borders. There must be a genuine floor that no state can slip beneath.

Second, we should end the idea that a gun licence is a semi-permanent identity. The Prime Minister said it plainly: people can be radicalised over time, and licences should not be “in perpetuity”. All licences should be time-limited, with meaningful renewal checks, not box-ticking. The “genuine reason” test should be re-tested. Training should be refreshed. Background checks should be updated. Risk should be reassessed.

Third, Australia needs a clear, fast, fair risk-based removal mechanism. Emergency risk protection or so-called “red flag” approaches would mean if credible evidence emerged that someone was escalating, threatening, fixated, or deteriorating - there would be a rapid, court-supervised pathway to temporarily remove their firearms while due process ran. Not forever. Not without safeguards. But fast enough to avoid “we saw the signs” becoming an epitaph.

Fourth, the reform package must treat safe storage as enforcement, not advice. Port Arthur changed the rules, but rules only work when they're checked. Random inspections, meaningful penalties, and a clear focus on preventing suburban stockpiles must be part of the new normal. If we're serious about “not letting it happen again”, we can't be squeamish about compliance.

Fifth, we should explicitly tighten magazine capacity and rapid-fire capability. National Cabinet’s discussion of restricting weapon types and restricting imports of high-capacity equipment is exactly where this should land. It's one of the most practical ways to reduce lethality in the worst-case scenario.

Sixth, we need ammunition controls and traceability that match the seriousness of licensing. A person can be “licensed” and still present unacceptable risk if they can amass ammunition with little friction. Licensing, weapon limits, and ammunition oversight must work together.

Seventh, we should talk honestly about scale. Australia hasn't remained frozen in 1996. There are now over four million civilian-owned guns. Credible analyses argue this is higher than in 1996 - roughly one gun for every seven Australians. Whatever you think about lawful firearm use for rural work or sport, private accumulation on this scale isn't a neutral cultural quirk. It is a public policy choice - and choices can be revised.

Finally, reform must come with resources, deadlines, and transparency. A register that takes a decade isn't a register; it’s a press release. Customs restrictions without staffing are an invitation to smugglers. Enforcement without funding is a polite fiction. Leaders must publish a timeline, fund the machinery, and report progress regularly.

None of this is about vilifying farmers, rural Australians, or responsible sport shooters. It requires a grown-up acceptance that guns are tools designed to deliver lethal force. Public safety thus depends on reducing their access, accumulation, and lethality.

Choosing to be that country again

After Port Arthur, Australia made a decision that still echoes around the world: we chose each other. We refused the American script - the one where tragedy is followed by paralysis, paralysis is defended as freedom, and freedom is measured in funerals.

We now have a chance to renew that choice. We can become world leaders again: not by pretending our system is already perfect, and not by importing the fatalism of others, but by tightening what needs tightening - with clarity, consistency, and courage.

Bondi was a moment of horror. But it can also be a legacy. A moment of resolve.