Good morning everyone.
Before I get started, I want to acknowledge the Traditional Owners of the land we are meeting on today, the Awabakal and Worimi peoples, and pay my respects to Elders past and present. It is a privilege to be on this beautiful Country, and it is always a pleasure to welcome people here to the Hunter. I hope you get a chance to explore while you are here. There is plenty to see, plenty to eat, and if you are that way inclined, plenty of good local wine. And if you happen to bump into me at a café or a pub, come and say g’day.
It is a real honour to be here today, not just as the Federal Member for Hunter, but as a dad, and as Australia’s Special Envoy for Men’s Health. That title might sound a bit fancy, but what it really means is this: my job is to make sure blokes are not forgotten when it comes to health, especially during the big life moments. And there is no bigger life moment than becoming a father.
For too long, men’s health has been treated like an afterthought. We are expected to be the rock, the steady one, the problem solver, the bloke who just gets on with it. But the truth is, a lot of us are doing it tough. And a lot of us are doing it quietly. My job is to change that. To make sure men are seen, heard, and supported, not just when they are sick, but when life is changing around them. And there is no time of greater change than when a baby comes along.
When it comes to pregnancy, birth, and early parenting, most of the attention rightly goes to mums. They do the hard yards. But us dads, partners, blokes, we are part of the story too. We have our own challenges, our own struggles, and our own role to play.
I have two beautiful girls, Zoe and Asha, and I will tell you what, nothing prepares you for the rollercoaster of becoming a parent. I still remember the first time I held my eldest. She was so small, and I was terrified I was going to break her. I am this big fella, and here is this tiny little baby looking up at me like I am supposed to know what I am doing. Spoiler alert, I didn’t.
The first few weeks were chaos. No sleep. Nappies everywhere. Milk bottles rolling across the floor. And me wondering how the hell we were supposed to keep this tiny human alive. But it was also the most amazing thing I had ever experienced. It changes you. You suddenly see the world differently. Everything becomes about that little person and how to be the best version of yourself for them.
Becoming a dad is incredible, but it is also confronting. It is exciting, but stressful. It is full of love, but also full of self-doubt. Every year, about 300,000 Aussie blokes become dads. That is a massive life change. Too many blokes feel like they have got to tough it out on their own, but the truth is, plenty of us are doing it tough.
Around one in 10 new or expecting dads experience depression or anxiety. If you have had depression before, you are 8 times more likely to experience it again after becoming a father. Anxiety rates in new dads can be as high as 25 per cent. That is a lot of blokes feeling anxious, overwhelmed, or unsure. And yet most of us do not talk about it. We do not ask for help. We do not go to the doctor. We just bottle it up and hope it goes away.
Blokes are not great at talking about our health. We think it is weak to ask for help. But it is not. It is one of the bravest things you can do. I have been there myself. I used to be embarrassed to talk to my GP about my weight or my mental health or anything personal. But once I did, it changed everything.
That is what drives me in this role. I get to travel around the country, visit Men’s Sheds, sports clubs, workplaces, and have honest conversations about health. No fluff, no judgement, just real talk between blokes. And you know what, the moment one guy opens up, you see a chain reaction. The next bloke nods and says, “Yeah, me too.” That is how change starts, one honest chat at a time.
Now, I am often introduced as an athlete, which is generous. I was a shooter. And yes, I have a few Commonwealth Games gold medals. They used to hand them out in cereal boxes, I reckon. But what shooting taught me, and what connects perfectly to today, is breathwork and mindset.
Before every shot, you have to get calm. Your heart is racing. You are standing in front of a crowd. You have trained for years for this one moment. And everything comes down to one breath. You slow it down, you centre yourself, you focus on your breathing until everything else fades away.
That connects powerfully to childbirth and parenting. Because let’s face it, birth is high pressure. It is unpredictable. It is emotional. There is no warm-up round. There is no do-over. Learning how to breathe, stay calm, and focus when it all feels chaotic, that is not just a sport skill, that is a life skill.
When I talk to dads, I tell them, you do not have to have it all together. You just need to breathe. One breath, one step at a time.
Now let’s talk about what this event is really about, thriving kids. The truth is, thriving kids come from thriving families. The first 2000 days, from conception to age 5, is where so much of our lifelong health and wellbeing begins. That means we cannot just focus on mums or babies. We have to support the whole family, right from the start.
Dads are not just support people. They are parents. From that first scan, that first kick, they are in it. They are not the assistant coach. They are part of the team. When we treat fathers as partners instead of spectators, the whole family wins.
Because becoming a parent is one of the most stressful transitions anyone can go through. For both partners. Both are tired. Both are adjusting. Both are learning. So we have to start talking more about relationships. When couples work as a team, communicate, and share the load, everyone’s mental health benefits.
And that is where you come in. The midwives, the nurses, the educators, the family health workers. You have the power to include dads in that conversation. When you look them in the eye, call them by name, ask how they are going, you are saying, you matter here.
We need to make sure dads are visible. If they cannot see it, they cannot be it. Let’s get fathers in the pictures, the posters, and the waiting rooms. Let’s have health messages that show men feeding, holding, and comforting their babies. When dads see themselves represented, they step up.
Every time we include a dad in an appointment, a class, or a conversation, we open the door to talk about mental health, stress, and wellbeing. We are saying, you belong here. For many men, that is the first time they have ever heard that in a healthcare setting. That is how we start tackling the bigger issues. Not with lectures, but with inclusion.
The Australian Government is stepping up. We are investing in programs that support men’s health during the perinatal period: $3 million for the Plus Paternal Initiative, $1.2 million to expand DadBooster, $3.5 million for SMS4Dads, $42.9 million for new perinatal mental health centres and peer networks, and funding for Ten to Men, our national study on male health. These are not just numbers, they are lifelines. They mean that no matter where a dad lives, he has somewhere to turn when things get tough.
But we have still got a long way to go. Three out of 4 people who die by suicide are men. Seventy-one per cent of men are overweight or obese. We are more likely than women to develop type 2 diabetes. And too many of us wait weeks or even months before seeing a doctor. That is not good enough. We can do better, for ourselves, for our families, for our communities.
Let’s talk about one of the hardest things – suicide. It is the leading cause of death for men aged 25 to 44. Not accidents. Not illness. Suicide. That is the same age when most men are becoming fathers. It is supposed to be a time of growth and purpose, but for too many, it is when the cracks start to show.
Early fatherhood overlaps with one of the highest suicide risk periods for men. And yet there is still very little research or targeted support focused on that link. That has to change. If we are serious about keeping dads healthy, we have to understand why this happens, what helps, and how we can intervene early. Because when a bloke takes his own life, it does not just end one story, it changes the lives of his kids, his partner, his mates, and his whole community.
We can do better. We must do better. That is why during the last election, the Albanese Government committed $32 million to men’s health. That includes $11.3 million to train GPs and expand Movember’s Men in Mind program, $8.3 million to keep Men’s Sheds going strong, $7.4 million to expand Ahead of the Game with the AFL, and $2 million for suicide prevention research at the Danny Frawley Centre. We are not just talking about men’s health, we are acting on it.
Fatherhood is a golden opportunity. It is one of those times when a bloke is open to change. When he is motivated to be better for his partner, his kid, and himself. We need to grab that moment. Health services need to meet men where they are at – in the shed, on the worksite, at the footy club. Make it easy. Make it normal. Make it bloke friendly.
And that is where you come in. You are the frontline, the educators, the midwives, the nurses, the childbirth professionals. You guide families through this wild ride. You have the power to include dads, to validate their experience, to help them feel seen.
So here is my challenge. How can we make childbirth and parenting education more bloke friendly? How can we make sure dads do not feel like they are just there to carry the bags and cut the cord? Can we design classes that speak their language? Use examples that connect with them? Create spaces where they feel safe to ask questions and admit they are nervous?
Sometimes it is as simple as a smile, a question, an invitation to join the conversation. When dads feel included, they show up differently. They listen. They learn. They take pride in their role.
When dads are healthy, families are stronger. When dads are supported, kids thrive. When dads are included, communities benefit.
Before I wrap up, I want to acknowledge birth trauma. It is confronting, but it is important. While the focus is often on women, rightly so, we also need to recognise that men can experience trauma around birth too. Sometimes they witness things that deeply affect them. Sometimes they feel powerless, scared, or shut out. But their needs are rarely acknowledged.
If we truly want to support families, we need to see fathers as part of that story. Not bystanders, but parents who also need care, understanding, and healing. Every dad deserves to know he matters. That his mental health matters. That asking for help is not weakness. It is strength.
Let’s back our blokes. Let’s break the stigma. Let’s bring dads into the conversation right from the start. When dads are involved, kids do better. When dads are supported, families stay stronger. When dads are seen, the whole community benefits. No dad should ever feel like the world would be better off without him.
Thank you for having me. Thank you for the incredible work you do every single day. And let’s keep this conversation going, for the health of our men, our families, and our future.
Cheers.