Trevor Whittington, CEO WAFarmers

Every time someone brings up the Southern Oscillation Index or the Indian Ocean Dipole, I nod along and drift off. But a recent conversation with an old boarding school mate gave me hope that maybe it’s not as complex as I originally thought and maybe some of the amateur Wheatbelt weather forecasters might have more than half a clue about what's going on out there.

While politicians and activists agonise over the merits of the wars in Gaza and Ukraine, a far more insidious war rages on — not between nations, but between species. It’s the war we barely talk about, yet one we’re losing badly: the war against invasive pests. From farmland to forest, the frontlines are everywhere, and the casualties aren’t measured in headlines but in trees, crops, ecosystems — and billions of taxpayer dollars.

Long?suffering readers know I like to poke around in the world of agricultural science particularly anything to do with carbon farming and climate change, so — without drawing on the untapped wisdom of my son Thomas — I’m going to argue, once again, that soil carbon farming in the WA Wheatbelt belongs firmly in the fantasy section of the library, not the science shelves.

Land clearing was effectively banned back in 1983—but apparently no one told the Shire of Northam. Their newly released draft Tree Retention Policy (LPP27) reads as if state and federal restrictions don’t exist. It’s packed with all the right buzzwords—biodiversity, canopy cover, climate resilience—but beneath the green gloss is a bureaucratic trap.

Estimates is meant to be the opposition’s one decent swing at the government’s budget—the rare chance to force ministers to justify the billions in taxpayer cash they merrily shovel around like chook feed. Instead, it’s turned into the legislative equivalent of asking a sulky teenager to explain where last week’s allowance went ... when ministers start throwing up emotional smokescreens instead of facts, it’s usually a sign they’ve got something to hide.

Come 2025, after a couple of wars, a new US president, a cost of living crisis, power blackouts and the hard economics finally catching up to lofty promises, the world seems to have quietly lost interest in the net zero game ... Just this week, the Red Meat Advisory Council formally dumped its 2030 carbon neutral target, swiftly followed by Meat & Livestock Australia.

The brutal truth? We’ve hit the wall on new mobile towers in the bush ... If the government wants to be taken seriously on regional development—and on spreading the half-million migrants arriving each year beyond our major cities—then it must stop treating mobile connectivity as a private-sector problem. It’s time to treat it like the essential service it is.

In a year when the eastern states have either been drowning under floods or gasping through drought, and here in the west half the state has been left staring at a dry horizon, it seemed timely to stop watching the skies and start digging into the past ... What I aim to do is cut through the rising noise between the climate catastrophists shouting Armageddon and the hardened sceptics waving it all away, versus the climate fatalists like me—convinced that, whatever humans do, nature already has the final say—and put some facts on the table.

Something’s shifted. You can feel it in the air — and no, I’m not talking about carbon dioxide, the superfood of plants. I’m talking about the political climate, the social mood, the economic headwinds, and, most importantly, the dawning realisation across much of the Western world that Net Zero isn’t the pathway to the promised land — it’s a mirage.

The Albanese government, fresh from electoral victory and emboldened by a tighter alliance with the Greens, has wasted no time signalling its intentions: the nation’s nest eggs are in its sights with their plans to tax unrealised gains on super accounts over $3m ... It’s a dangerous shift in the philosophy of taxation, and one that poses deep constitutional and legal questions.