What Exactly is the States Policy on Drought

Whether this season ends up in the grain record books or just fades as another patchy year, one thing is guaranteed: somewhere in the Wheatbelt, rainfall will slump into the bottom 10% of the long-term average.

DPIRD’s own numbers show decile 1 years strike the Eastern Wheatbelt more often than many realise. Yilgarn is the poster child—bottom-decile rainfall in 2002, 2006, 2010, 2019, and again in 2023. A pattern like that gets the climate catastrophists foaming, eager to wave around their carbon offset spreadsheets and slap new taxes on the farming and working class.

But as the long history of drought in this state shows, decile 1 years aren’t rare—they’re just farming. This week’s yarn is about WA’s approach to drought—where it’s failing, where it’s political, and how we might fix it before the next season hits harder than expected.

Since Federation, drought policy has swung between open-handed crisis response and hard-nosed economic realism. In the post-WWII decades, drought meant freight subsidies, fodder runs, and dam building—nation-building stuff. If the sheep were hungry, the government acted.

But by the 1990s, Canberra and the states embraced a new creed: adapt or perish. No more subsidies for the unprepared. Drought became just another farm business risk, to be managed like machinery upgrades or school fees. WA led the charge. By 2002, the state had quietly abandoned drought declarations and replaced them with “Water Deficiency Declarations”—a bureaucratic tool aimed solely at livestock welfare. No cheques, just water guaranteed by Watercorp at the nearest standpipe.

The language changed too. “Drought” was dropped from official vocabularies and replaced with euphemisms like “deficiency,” “decile events,” and “climate resilience.” But out in the paddock, when the rain stops, it’s still drought—and everyone still looks to government and asks: what now?

Despite decades of national drought frameworks, the response remains a patchwork—across states, and within WA. During the Millennium Drought, the eastern states poured over a billion dollars into fodder subsidies, water carting, and freight. Canberra handed out Exceptional Circumstances Relief while reminding farmers to plan for next time.

But fast forward to the 2017–2020 “Tinderbox Drought,” and it was déjà vu. The same states hit the panic button and went back to writing cheques. Then came the Future Drought Fund—$5 billion to spin off $100 million a year for resilience, not relief.

In theory, a smart idea. In practice? Another honey pot for consultants, academics, and policy wonks to pump out glossy reports with titles like “The Benefits of Shelter Belts” and “Expanding Adoption of Bee-Friendly Farming.” They’d have been better off using the money to mail every farmer a once off cheque for $20,000 to hire a dozer or sink a bore and never ask again for drought support. At least when the next decile one hits, there’d be something physical to show for it.

In WAs case for the last 25 years, WA’s ministers have mostly held the line. No drought handouts—just emergency water carting to stand pipes, mental health support, and financial counselling. That changed last year when Minister Jackie Jarvis faced a drought in her own electorate. In one of the driest South West seasons on record, she wrangled $9 million from Treasury and dished out $5,000 cheques—mostly, one suspects, to hobby farmers who could navigate the paperwork.

That generosity didn’t go unnoticed. Nor did it sit well with Wheatbelt farmers in places like the Yilgarn, who’ve been told for a generation to suck it up. It exposed what many of us already knew: WA’s drought policy depends on the whim of recent Ministers, or your postcode—and your political value in the next election.  It’s politics at its worst.

Alannah MacTiernan, the doyenne of all things regenerative, held firm on no drought cheques during the brutal 2018–2020, mind you, her response to the Great Souther drought was to double down on her $15 million focus on regenerative agriculture while 90% of dams in the Eastern Great Southern ran bone dry and Canberra was busy handing out hundreds of millions to the eastern states. She doggedly refused to co-fund the National On-Farm Emergency Water Infrastructure Rebate Scheme that offered 25% rebates—up to $25,000—for farmers investing in water infrastructure. The eastern states jumped on it. WA passed because the Minister was more focused on long term climate change. We would have been better off with the money going to the matching federal drought water program.

In just eight years under McGowan and Cook, we’ve had three major droughts and three different responses — a revolving door of state policy, a federal Drought Hub hijacked by climate crusaders, and a Minister who sees drought as a vote-buying opportunity. It’s a mess.

That’s why WAFarmers wrote to Minister Jarvis. Enough with postcode politics — we need a clear, statewide drought policy with real industry buy-in. With the election behind us, it’s time to ditch the pork-barrelling and set the agenda for the next 25 years. Somewhere in WA, 2025 will be another decile 1 year — and those farmers deserve to know what support they'll get when the dams run dry.

That means revisiting the role of the Drought Hub and asking serious questions about DPIRD’s funding priorities. If a project has “regenerative” or “landscape rehydration” in the title, it probably belongs in the shredder. We also need to clarify where GRDC and MLA fit in the drought space — not because they’re not doing useful work, but to avoid duplication and ensure they’re aligned with a state-led strategy. Mental health and farm financial counselling must stay — early help beats disaster mop-up every time.

As for rewriting drought policy? Don’t hand it off to a Level 6 policy officer with ChatGPT. This needs a heavyweight — someone with senior government experience, cross-agency reach, and the resources to lead real reform. Not just a tidy-up job, but a proper look at how to prepare WA’s farmers, communities and economy for the next decile 1 season.

And while we’re at it, let’s put the Country Water Supply Scheme under the microscope. What would it take to get farmers off the water carting queue and onto their own groundwater? What incentives would make that shift viable? It’s time to stop reacting and start planning — fund Smart Water Phase 2 now and get Phase 3 underway.

We asked the Minister for a focused drought roundtable. What we got back was a proposal to discuss drought and climate adaptation. Disappointing — but not surprising. Yet again, a Minister can’t help herself from linking drought to climate change.

Apparently, a roundtable is a great opportunity to explore our “respective roles in drought and climate” and “advance climate adaptation initiatives.” Here we go again.

Let’s be clear: droughts were part of the Australian landscape long before climate modelling and net zero roadmaps. Even if the planet reaches carbon neutrality and someone figures out how to stop the next ice age, we’ll still have droughts. It’s a basic feature of life on this continent.

So we’ve written back to the Minister to make it clear: we won’t join a forum that dresses up emissions targets and carbon farming as drought policy. Let’s stay focused — water, fodder, animal welfare. And while we’re at it, some clarity on whether the Minister’s still in the business of writing $5,000 cheques wouldn’t go astray either.

If the Minister wants to host a climate change forum, fine. We’ll turn up. But drought policy should stay about drought.

The ball’s in her court.