
Amanda Cramm (an excellent photo, courtesy AAP)
Mark Butler says the NDIS must be saved. Queensland says the Commonwealth is walking away from children, families and the services it helped dismantle.
Queensland has become the first real test of Mark Butler’s plan to remake the NDIS.
Not the fiscal test. That is clear enough. Butler wants to pull the scheme back from projected growth, tighten eligibility, expand provider regulation and reduce the number of people on the NDIS from more than 900,000 projected participants to about 600,000 by the end of the decade. The NDIS, he says, “costs too much and is growing too fast”.
The test is political.
Queensland has not simply raised concerns. It has accused the Commonwealth of walking away.
Amanda Camm, Queensland’s Minister for Families, Seniors and Disability Services, told state parliament the federal government would “walk away from their responsibility for people living with a disability”. She warned parents of children with autism that one-on-one occupational therapy or speech therapy could disappear under the proposed changes.
This is the real fight. Butler calls it sustainability. Queensland calls it cost shifting.
The state’s argument is simple. When the NDIS was created, state disability services were wound down, folded in or hollowed out. Now Canberra wants to push some people out of the scheme and towards “foundational supports” that do not yet exist in any settled, credible form.
The politics are sharpest around children. Butler’s package includes tighter eligibility and a shift away from diagnosis as the gateway to the scheme. Guardian Australia reported that Queensland had not signed the operating deal for Thriving Kids, the program due to begin in October for children with autism and developmental delay.
Canberra is applying pressure. A news.com.au report said Butler warned Queensland would be “answerable” if it failed to sign up to the first implementation test of the reforms.
Queensland’s reply is blunt.
Do not remove the supports first and promise the replacement later.
That is not reform.
That is risk.
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Butler’s case is hardly fanciful.
The NDIS has grown beyond the expectations set for it at birth. In his National Press Club speech, Butler said the scheme was originally intended to support about 410,000 people. It now supports about 760,000. He said the scheme actuary had advised government that spending had blown out by $13 billion over four years.
This is the strongest part of his argument. The NDIS cannot be defended simply by pretending the numbers do not matter. A scheme that loses public confidence loses political protection. Butler understands this. He framed the reforms as a rescue mission, not a retreat.
He also put fraud and market failure at the centre of the case. He said the scheme had become a target for “shonks and rorters” and organised crime, while insisting fraud was not being committed by people with disability or families.
That distinction matters.
But it does not answer Queensland’s objection.
The state’s complaint is not that fraud should be tolerated. It is not that the NDIS should never change. It is that the Commonwealth is trying to repair its budget by moving human need to systems that are not ready to receive it.
Camm’s language has been deliberately hard. According to public metadata from The Australian, she described the package as “the biggest cost shift in history”. The same public summary says she accused the Commonwealth of sending the carriages of a “runaway train” towards the states, with little detail and little consultation.
That is the phrase that will stick because it captures the state argument in one image.
The Commonwealth built the national scheme. The Commonwealth allowed it to expand. The Commonwealth is now trying to narrow the gate. The states are being asked to rebuild the supports that disappeared when the NDIS became, in Butler’s own words, “the only port in a storm” for many Australians.
Queensland’s position is sharpened by geography. A program that may look plausible from Canberra can become something else in Mount Isa, Rockhampton, Cairns or the Darling Downs. Allied health shortages are not theoretical there. Nor are long waits for diagnosis, therapy and advocacy.
The social evidence is already visible. InDaily Queensland reported GoFundMe data showing Queensland had the highest number of NDIS-related fundraisers citing gaps in NDIS funding, while NDIS-related fundraisers rose year on year. Queensland Advocacy for Inclusion’s Sian Thomas said demand for the organisation’s services had almost doubled over 12 months, with people being turned away from urgent tribunal support.
This is the ground on which the politics will be fought. Not in the abstract language of “scheme sustainability”, but in the gap between a child losing therapy and a promised alternative arriving later.
Butler says the deeper reforms will be done with the states and the disability community, guided by “Nothing about us, without us!”
Queensland is effectively asking whether that phrase still has operational meaning.
The answer cannot be another intergovernmental communique. It has to be practical. What services will exist outside the NDIS? Who will run them? Who pays? When do they begin? What happens in regional Queensland? What happens to children already receiving therapy? What appeal rights remain? What prevents families from being pushed from a flawed national scheme into no scheme at all?
This is why Queensland matters.
It is not just resisting Canberra. It is exposing the weakest link in the reform package.
Butler may be right that the NDIS needs hard decisions. Queensland may be right that those decisions are being made before the safety net is visible.
Both things can be true.
