Anatomy of a blame game.
As public hospitals sink further into disarray, federal and state governments go to war over money. And nobody wants to take responsibility for fixing the system.
By rights, Australia’s new five-year hospital funding
agreement ought to have been in operation by June 2025 and signed well before
that. At the time of writing (December 2025) there is still no sign of
agreement. The states are accusing the federal government of welshing on its
responsibility to ensure the nation’s struggling hospitals can keep going and,
perhaps, improve. The Prime Minister accuses the states of wasting the money
they’ve already got.
They’ve been talking about this for at least two years and
appear to have gone steadily backwards, the barbs and accusations escalating.
In February, with time on the old agreement running out, they signed a one-year
extension so the nation’s public hospitals wouldn’t have to close. That
extension will run out at the end of June 2026.
The nation’s peak health bodies are united in calling on
Canberra to put more money into the system and to take the lead in
redesigning a system which is clearly not working for anyone – not for the
Commonwealth, for the states, for staff – and certainly not for patients.
Who’s to blame for the eternal blame game in health? Gough
Whitlam, perhaps.
When Whitlam created a universal health and hospital system,
making decent health care available to everyone, poor as well as rich, he
inadvertently created a permanent stand-off between the Commonwealth and the
states.
Until 1975, only Queensland and Tasmania had free public
hospitals. Whitlam used the Commonwealth’s revenue-raising heft to make all
public hospitals free for everyone. But the states still had primary
responsibility for running the system, no matter what happened to the money
from Canberra. From then on, whenever anything went wrong, it would be
politically convenient for the states to blame the feds for short-changing
them, and the feds could blame the states for inefficiency and inadequate
funding.
And that’s happening, yet again, right now.
“The Commonwealth blaming the states and vice versa doesn't
help the problem when you're sick,” said
Kevin Rudd. ”It's time to end the blame game between Canberra and the states on
health and hospitals.
“I believe the mood of the nation is that we need to ask the
Australian people for a mandate to take Commonwealth responsibility for full
funding for public hospitals.”
That was in 2007, three months before he became Prime
Minister.
Nothing much happened. Rudd had given little attention to
the details. The federal Health Department, always a policy-based outfit, had
no experience or ability in actually running hospitals. Only the states could
do that.
Rudd wanted the states to surrender a third of their GST
money to fund his grand proposal. They said no.
The federal government wanted to take over the hospital
system on the cheap, failing to provide enough new money to transform the
system and secure a genuinely universal health system. Despite all of the
promises, delivery was a squib.
“Over the last decade the Commonwealth's share of public
hospital funding has been in sustained decline, and states and territories have
had to enter negotiations over health funding with the Commonwealth every five
years” she said.
“Today's agreement permanently puts an end to the
uncertainty of public hospital funding. It is money the states – and Australian
patients – can depend on.”
As it turned out, that money could not be depended on. Labor
lost the 2013 election and the new Liberal Prime Minister, Tony Abbott, moved
to destroy the whole edifice. He flagged $50 billion in cuts to hospital
funding over eight years. But Abbott was kicked out of the prime ministership
by his own party before those highly unpopular changes could come into effect.
His successor, Malcolm Turnbull, returned – sort of – to the Gillard model. The
Commonwealth would fund 45% of the national efficient price but slapped a cap
on growth. If costs increased by more than 6.5% in a given year, the state
concerned would have to wear it. The promise of increasing funding to 50% of
the NEP has never been kept; but never have the states forgotten it, nor
forgiven successive federal governments for breaking it.
That is where we are now.
The states’ case
Commonwealth funding has never kept up with the actual costs
of running the nation’s public hospitals. The new funding system was signed in
2011 actually began in 2014-15. But – apart from a short-lived initial bump –
the federal share declined and the states had to pick up the difference.
Immediately before the system changed, the states were footing 52.8% of the
bill; by 2023-24, that had risen to 58%. The extra cost to the states was about
$2.8 billion in that year alone.
The main federal funding mechanism – the National Efficient
Price – has consistently failed to keep up with average costs. In the first
eight years of this funding stream, the NEP rose by 16% and costs by 91%.
The states also point out that the Commonwealth has much
greater capacity for raising money than they do. This chart compares the
proportion of tax revenue going to health for all jurisdictions in 2014-15, and
in 2023-24. In all states and territories, the increase has been substantial
and, in some (particularly Tasmania) dramatic. For the Commonwealth, total
health expenditure – which includes Medicare and the private insurance rebate
as well as public hospitals – fell slightly.
This chart shows how health costs are becoming more and more
dominant of state budgets: it is by far their greatest area of expenditure. For
the Commonwealth budget, the health share – apart from the pandemic – has been
generally stable.
The Commonwealth’s case
The federal government points out that public hospital
funding to the states has increased by 40% since the new scheme began. This is
second only to the rise in private hospital costs (mostly for the health
insurance rebate). Even the amount spent on primary care, mainly through
Medicare, has not increased by as much.
They can also point out that some jurisdictions have managed
to control their costs and are doing quite well out of the federal funding
system. In the eight years after its inception, the National Efficient Price
rose faster than costs in Victoria and South Australia; Queensland was
line-ball. States which are able to treat their patients more cheaply than the
NEP keep the change. So Victoria and South Australia have been profiting from
the scheme.
But Tasmania, the ACT, New South Wales and the Northern
Territory lose. It is these jurisdictions – particularly the biggest, NSW –
which make the national average costs look so high. The federal government is
entitled to ask: why can’t some states control their costs, when others clearly
can?
Two years ago, the states thought they had a deal. In
December 2023, the federal government promised to increase its share of
funding.
"National Cabinet endorsed [the] Commonwealth
increasing National Health Reform Agreement contributions to 45% over a maximum
of a 10-year glide path from 1 July 2025, with an achievement of 42.5% before
2030," the Prime Minister's Office said in a statement.
It was little enough. If the 42.5% increase had been applied
in 2022-23, it would have cost $4.2 billion, or 0.61% of federal government
revenue. The 45% would have cost $6 billion, or 0.87% of revenue. But costs
would continue to increase massively before any substantial new federal money
appeared, and the states would continue to have to cover it.
The states now say the Commonwealth is going back on that
promise.
“Under the arrangement now proposed by the Commonwealth, the
actual share of Commonwealth funding will be closer to 35 per cent, falling
tens of billions of dollars short of what is needed," they said in a joint
statement.
As part of any deal, the federal government also wants the
states to take over responsibility for people being kicked off of the National
Disability Insurance Scheme because of its “Thriving Kids” program.
“For states and territories to realise a Commonwealth
contribution of 42.5% of public hospital costs by 2030-31, under the capped
glide path model,” Albanese told
the premiers. “it will be necessary for your government to work to reduce
growth in hospital activity and costs to more sustainable levels.”
In other words: those promises are off.
The states’ reaction was predictable and sharp. “Does he
want us to go out there and close the front door to our emergency departments
or stop taking ambulances delivering sick patients to our emergency wards?”
said the Queensland health minister, Tim Nichols.
“Demand is growing with an older and growing population with more severe acuity and presentations, it's just unrealistic to expect the states to say, ‘oh, well, we can control demand.’”
Why did costs rise so much?
In fact, per-patient costs came down steadily for many years
until, around 2017, they started to rise again. All jurisdictions showed
increases but the results were not spread evenly. The change from the 2017-18
low point was particularly evident in Tasmania – the standout state for
plunging cost-efficiency – but also in Western Australia and the ACT.
For decades, all major hospitals met the squeeze between
increasing demand and inadequate facilities by discharging patients ever more
quickly: quicker and sicker, as many doctors attest. That could not go on
forever: there would inevitably come a point at which lengths of stay could not
be reduced any further without seriously endangering patients. That point, not
coincidentally, was reached at the same time as costs started to go up: in
2017.
The easy option for state governments – reducing patient
care rather than building enough hospitals – was no longer available.
Comparing Australia with other developed countries shows how
far down this country’s hospitals have pushed length of stay. Of the 18 nations
on this list, only three – Sweden, Norway and the Netherlands – have lower
figures. And that’s likely to be because they have provided more step-down
care, so patients no longer needing expensive treatment in an acute hospital
can be moved elsewhere for rehabilitation and convalescence.
But there are many reasons for soaring costs. Length of stay
is only one. This chart shows the relationship between costs and average length
of stay in each jurisdiction, and how each state compares with the national
average.
Take a look at two states: NSW and Western Australia. Costs in NSW were 5% below the national average even though its average length of stay was 50% higher. In WA, in contrast, costs were 15% above the national average even though length of stay was 11% below.
Availability of beds is likely to be involved here. In
2023-24, and taking population into account, NSW had 6.7% more beds than WA.
This fits with the widely-held observation that when hospitals become
overcrowded, they become less efficient – and therefore more expensive.
Tracking bed availability over the long term reveals how and
why that overcrowding, and its resultant inefficiency, happened. This chart
looks at a quarter-century of data on the number of patients being admitted
nationally, against the number of beds available for them. Over that time, bed
numbers went up by 18% and patient numbers by 98%. No wonder there’s a problem.
The right stuff
State authorities have a fixed mindset about what
constitutes a hospital bed. If it doesn’t fit into one of the established
categories – emergency, medical, surgical – it’s not really a bed and
therefore isn’t considered.
The problem with that is that it’s bad for patients, bad for
staff and hellishly expensive. According to anecdote from hospital staff –
there are no coherent figures – as a quarter of people occupying high-level
acute beds in major hospitals don’t need that level of care but can’t be
discharged because there’s nowhere more suitable for them to go. Most of those
people could be accommodated much more cheaply in rehabilitation and
convalescent facilities, built to nursing-home standards but with appropriate
nursing and allied-health staff. In the Australian context, that would save at
least $1,000 per patient per day in recurrent costs. And those facilities could
be built for a fraction of the cost of a conventional hospital.
But it’s not being done.
Half a century ago, governments around the world closed
their 19th century psychiatric hospitals in favour of treating
mental illness “in the community”. Those with acute and potentially dangerous
symptoms would be treated in general hospitals, usually for less than two
weeks. It was intended to save a lot of money. It didn’t, but it did produce a debacle
in mental health care.
Busy, noisy general hospitals are not a suitable place for
people with serious mental health problems; and the split between various
elements of the system make continuity of care almost impossible; and there is
an overall shortage of adequate, therapeutically appropriate facilities. It all
costs too much and delivers too little.
The time has come to rectify the mistake – not by returning
to the 19th century model but to establish comprehensive mental
health precincts, surrounded by gardens. These would become the focus of a new
era in psychiatric care.
Far too many people wait far too long for important elective
surgery, both because there are not enough beds and theatres, but also because
elective patients are subject to being
“bumped” to make way for emergency cases. Providing separate, stand-alone
elective surgery centres have repeatedly been shown to produce massive
improvements in cost efficiency, throughput and staff satisfaction.
Such centres are being built in some places, but we need
many more.
What we need from Canberra
Leadership. Money too, but mostly leadership.
Many of the problems in Australia’s health and hospital
systems seem intractable for one reason: fragmentation – between federal and
state, public and private, GPs and hospitals. While this persists, the chances
of developing a structure that puts the interests of patients in front of
everything else remain discouragingly slim. For decades, experts have urged
governments to adopt the most obvious answer: that there should be a single
funder for the entire system, because money drives everything. That would require
a trusted, independent body to coordinate money coming in from all sources, and
it would require the Commonwealth – the only level of government with the
revenue-raising capacity – to become the dominant contributor.
Today that dream seems as far away as ever, so we need to
work with what’s possible.
The federal government could ensure better cost-efficiency
by bankrolling infrastructure that the states have not built: step-down
facilities which would free up thousands of acute beds; mental health
precincts; elective surgery centres. There are many other possibilities, but
these would be a good start.
By putting up all or some of the money, the Commonwealth
could require the states to do this work. The government could also mandate
sensible and efficient development practices, reducing the waste and confusion that
squanders so much money and goodwill.
When the pressures of overcrowding and under-resourcing are eased,
many other issues can be addressed. A long list already exists in the work of
multiple government reviews and think-tanks such as the Grattan Institute. But
many of their suggestions seem, for now, little more than tinkering at the
edges while the main game continues unaddressed.
It is not useful for the Prime Minister to write to the
states, as he did, simply demanding that they reduce their costs – and quickly!
It’s not that simple. Without a substantial and well-directed investment by Mr
Albanese’s government, the only way spending can be reduced in the short term will
be by treating fewer patients.
It is difficult, in the present circumstances, to feel other
than despondent about the prospects for meaningful change. More money will need
to be spent, because even if much greater efficiency is achieved, demand for
health services will not go down. At best, spending may rise a little less
quickly.
But the federal government is unwilling to take the
political risks of increasing its taxation revenue. There are many candidates
for reform: minerals rent taxes, capital gains discounts, negative gearing,
multinational tax-avoiding corporations just for a start. Earmarking tax
measures for health and hospital investment would ensure wide community
support.
It’s not as if Australia, overall, spends too much on health,
or cannot afford to spend more. Our economy has all the capacity needed to fund
a much better system. Compared with most other developed nations, Australia’s
health expenditure as a proportion of its GDP is benign.
The United States, as ever, provides the cautionary tale. That
country tries to sideline government involvement, putting its faith in the private
sector. It refuses to combat price-gouging by drug companies, hospitals,
doctors and insurers. The interests of patients do not figure.
And if we look at the long-term trajectories of these figures,
we can see Australia has the economic power to spend substantially more than it
does. Compare our trajectory with Britain’s: at the beginning of the century, we
spent more than they did; now we spend less. And, for all the problems of
Australia’s health system, Britain’s National Health Service is vastly worse.
Everything we have discussed here is achievable. All we need
are governments – specifically, the federal government – with the vision and
the will for reforms that could put us ahead of the world. Thousands upon
thousands of lives would be saved, millions of people would be freed from illness
and worry.
All it needs is the political will. Pity about that.
















