I acknowledge the Kaurna people, traditional owners and custodians of the Adelaide Plains, and all First Nations people present. Thank you to Jim Hancock and the South Australian Centre for Economic Studies for the invitation to speak with you today.
1. A nation obsessed with performance
On most mornings, I start the day with a run through the bushland behind our home. I nod to the kangaroos, exchange grins with the kookaburras, and watch the sun rise over Canberra's ridgeline. If I've pushed myself - sprinted up hills or chased a personal best - then whatever else the day holds feels a little bit easier.
Australians love to move. We hike, we swim, we ride, we play. In a sun‑drenched country with open spaces and a culture of mateship, sport isn't just recreation. It's part of our national identity. Whether it's a footy game in the park, a community netball match, or the roar of a stadium when the Matildas score - sport brings us together and brings out our best.
And when it comes to performance, few do it better. Australian athletes routinely punch above their weight. From the pool to the track, from cycling velodromes to cricket pitches - we overachieve. Not because we're richer or more populous, but because we've built systems that work. Talent gets spotted early. Coaching is world‑class. Infrastructure is a priority. Incentives are smart. And we measure everything - from split times to stride length - because we know that what gets measured gets improved.
So why is it that while our athletes keep breaking records, productivity seems to have pulled a hamstring?
When we came to office, labour productivity - the engine of long‑term prosperity - had suffered its worst drop in 45 years. The decade ending in 2020 was the worst decade for productivity growth in the post‑war era. We had seen a decline in the rate at which Australians switch jobs or start new businesses.
Today, some of our largest companies are the same giants that topped the sharemarket a century ago. Economic mobility is stuck in second gear. In too many sectors, it's not the best that win, but the biggest. Some markets are so concentrated, if they were sporting leagues, they'd have one team, one trophy, and one very bored mascot.
This isn't just a technical problem. A sluggish economy means fewer chances for the aspiring entrepreneur, fewer pathways for the ambitious worker, and a lower ceiling on our collective ambition. We'd never tolerate a sporting system where a few legacy players won every match, newcomers couldn't crack the starting lineup or results bore no relationship to effort. Yet that's precisely what we're seeing in parts of our economy.
What if we treated productivity the way we treat sport?
What if we built an economy that celebrated effort, rewarded ingenuity and gave everyone a fair shot?
What if we saw dynamism and decency not as opposing forces, but as complementary goals?
In this speech, I want to explore what sport can teach us about building a more dynamic, inclusive and high‑performing economy. I'll draw on stories of athletes and teams, of rule changes and coaching breakthroughs, of fair play and relentless ambition. Because when it comes to reforming our economy, we don't need to start from scratch. We just need to look around the oval.
2. Grit, ingenuity and teamwork: The spirit of sport
One myth about elite athletes is that they're simply born different, destined to dominate the pool, the track or the field. But anyone who's spent time around sport knows the truth is grittier. Talent matters, of course, but tenacity matters more. It's early mornings, endless drills and the quiet resilience to keep training when no one's watching.
Take Megan Still. In 1988, the Australian Institute of Sport tested hundreds of students in Canberra and Queanbeyan. Still had never been in a rowing scull before. Each time she pulled the oars, she unbalanced the boat. Not because she was weak or inexperienced, but because she was applying so much power. The coaches took notice. She was brought into a talent development program. Eight years later, Still and her partner Kate Slatter became the first Australian women to win Olympic gold in rowing.
Or consider Evonne Goolagong Cawley. Growing up in Barellan, she would sometimes watch the local tennis players from behind the fence. One day, someone invited her in for a hit. That simple generous inclusive gesture helped launch a career that took her to the top of the sport. Cathy Freeman's trajectory was shaped not just by raw speed, but by the scholarships and training that allowed her to develop it.
Sport excels at turning potential into performance. When it works, it's because talent is spotted early, nurtured carefully and supported consistently. Systems make that possible.
The same logic should apply across the economy. In a dynamic labour market, people switch jobs, take risks, start businesses, learn new skills. We want to be the kind of country where opportunity doesn't depend on postcode and where ambition is met with support. The next Megan Still might not be holding an oar. She might be sketching a business plan, writing code or dreaming up a solution to a social problem.
And just as few sporting triumphs are solo affairs, high‑performing organisations rely on teamwork. Behind every star athlete is a support crew of coaches, dietitians, physiotherapists and training partners. Behind every great firm is a culture that values cooperation and recognises the quiet contributors who make excellence possible.
That's the model we need in public policy: not one that only celebrates winners, but one that builds up teams, pipelines and pathways. A system that makes sure we don't overlook talent just because it looks unfamiliar or shows up in an unexpected place.
We're not starting from scratch. But just as sport looks for marginal gains, governments can keep refining the systems that help people succeed, wherever they begin.
3. Systems matter: Coaching, infrastructure and support
In sport, no‑one succeeds alone. Behind every Olympic and Paralympic medal is a scaffolding of support: the coach who sees what others miss, the physio who prevents niggles, the training facility open before dawn. Talent is essential, but without systems, it remains unrealised potential.
When Australia finished the 1976 Montreal Olympics without a single gold medal, it sparked a national conversation about how we support athletic performance. The result wasn't just soul‑searching - it was institution‑building. The Australian Institute of Sport was established in 1981 to provide athletes with better coaching, facilities, sports science and support. In the decades since, Australia's Olympic performance has improved markedly. With the right systems, consistent excellence is possible.
The same lesson applies beyond sport. High‑performing workplaces don't rely solely on individual brilliance. They create conditions for people to thrive. That might mean mentoring, better tools or more purposeful use of time. Often, it means protecting people's capacity to focus.
In his book Deep Work, Cal Newport argues that the ability to concentrate without distraction is a critical skill in the modern economy. Yet in many offices, that skill is under siege. Meetings multiply. Notifications pile up. Thoughtful work is squeezed into the margins. Contrast that with sport, where intense focus is non‑negotiable. Cyclists don't scroll Instagram on training rides. Goalkeepers don't check email while practicing penalty shootouts.
Some businesses are rediscovering what athletes have always known: performance depends on focus and focus depends on design. Some software teams now use pair programming to sustain concentration. Others build 'deep work' blocks into the calendar. The best workplaces, like the best training environments, are shaped with purpose.
Infrastructure matters too. Part of what makes Australia a sporty nation is access: thousands of community ovals, pools and courts that enable participation. We need the same mindset for the infrastructure that supports economic productivity: fast broadband, modern transport, clean energy, well‑connected research networks. It's not just physical capital; it's about making it easy for people to contribute their best.
And then there's coaching. I've been lucky to work with some terrific coaches. People like racewalking coach Yvonne Melene - who took me from the back of the pack to a national teams medal, and Ben Gathercole - who showed me how to train for an Ironman while still holding down a day job. Great coaches don't just improve performance. They shift expectations. They help you see not just what you are, but what you could be.
In the economy, the same role is played by great teachers, thoughtful managers and patient mentors. They help people learn faster, climb higher and do work they're proud of. Good systems make that kind of support normal, not exceptional.
Whether it's the AIS or a thriving startup, the principle is the same. High performance isn't a mystery; it happens when you build for it.
4. Rules, referees and fair play
A few hundred years ago, in the early days of football, every school had its own version of the rules. Some allowed catching on the full. Others permitted shin‑kicking or gave extra points for unusual ricochets. It worked within school gates but made organised competition impossible. Until everyone agreed on a common rulebook, there could be no league, no ladder, no real contest.
When those rules were eventually codified - first in English schools, then across continents - the modern game was born. Spectators followed. Players flourished. The competition got better - not because the players changed, but because the system did.
In any sport, the rulebook shapes the game. Boundaries that favour attack lead to faster scoring. When umpires crack down on elbows or sledging, the culture shifts. In the same way, the rules that govern our economy influence how businesses behave, how consumers are treated and how fairly rewards are shared.
Competition policy is one of those foundational rulebooks. Done well, it ensures that no team gets to buy the umpire, and no player wins just because they're the biggest. It gives new entrants a fair go, and keeps established players on their toes. That's why our government has moved to modernise and strengthen Australia's competition settings.
In 2024, we reformed merger laws to ensure the competition watchdog has the tools to scrutinise deals that could entrench market power. We've revitalised National Competition Policy, working with states and territories to drive major microeconomic reform. Next week's Economic Reform Roundtable has been deliberately designed to bring together big thinkers with bold ideas, not vested interests with stale talking points.
When markets aren't competitive, the costs are subtle but serious. Prices creep up. Innovation slows down. Workers have fewer options. Startups struggle to break in. It's not just consumers who lose. Concentrated markets often mean a few shareholders capture the gains, widening inequality.
That's why promoting competition isn't just about stronger growth - it's also about fairer outcomes. It ensures that good ideas get a hearing, that effort is rewarded and that no‑one gets to win simply by locking others out.
We see this clearly in sport. Player drafts and revenue‑sharing don't punish success. They keep the contest open. When every team has a chance, the league is healthier. Fans stay engaged. And performance stays high. No‑one wants to watch a game where the outcome is a foregone conclusion.
That same principle holds in business. When firms must keep earning their market position, rather than defend it through mergers or legal contracts that freeze out rivals, they work harder to serve customers and improve their products. That dynamism drives productivity.
It also matters who enforces the rules. In sport, we don't rely on the players to police themselves. We have referees, stewards and tribunals. We give them clear authority and the power to enforce the rules of the game. In the economy, the same logic applies. Strong independent regulators are a public good. They don't slow the game. They protect its integrity.
Fair rules, fairly enforced, make for better contests. They lift standards, foster innovation and reward those who perform. Just as we wouldn't tolerate a footy match with no umpires, we shouldn't accept an economy without fair and effective competition.
5. Evaluation and incentives: How we know what works
Elite sport is relentless in its pursuit of improvement. Athletes monitor heart rate variability and blood lactate levels. Coaches study GPS traces, frame‑by‑frame video and biomechanical data. Psychologists analyse sleep cycles and focus states. Nothing is left to guesswork, because marginal gains add up. When gold and fourth place are separated by less than a second, knowing what works matters.
But measurement isn't just for elites. It's how a swimmer shaves a second off a personal best, or a local netball team identifies which player would be their best Goal Shooter. Sport's culture of feedback and iteration helps everyone get better, not just the stars.
That mindset is just as vital in public policy and economic reform.
If we want higher productivity, we must be curious about what works, and honest about what doesn't. That means better data, smarter incentives and more rigorous evaluation. It means testing policies before scaling them, comparing approaches and learning from results.
We've seen how powerful this can be in health and education. When interventions are tested using randomised trials, just as new drugs are, we sometimes find that small, low‑cost changes can make a big difference. Occasionally, we discover that expensive programs don't work as intended. The point isn't to criticise, but to learn. That's how we improve.
Our government has taken steps to strengthen evaluation across the board. We've established the Australian Centre for Evaluation to build capability, set standards and support high‑quality trials. We're using administrative data to measure outcomes, while safeguarding privacy and ethics. We're working with agencies to embed evaluation in program design; so that learning is built in, not bolted on. In many ways, the Australian Centre for Evaluation is like the team video analyst: quiet, methodical and absolutely vital if you actually want to improve.
Treasurer Chalmers has also created a national wellbeing framework, to ensure that government is measuring what matters. Just as a coach doesn't judge a team by possession time alone, we need to focus on real outcomes: student learning, healthy lifespans, community engagement.
What sport teaches us is that good incentives aren't about punishment or perfection. They're about clarity, focus and fairness. A race doesn't need to reward every runner equally, but it does need to be transparent, consistent and winnable. If the finish line keeps shifting, or if the stopwatch is broken, no‑one runs their best.
The same goes for organisations. People do their best work when expectations are clear, feedback is timely and success is genuinely rewarded. Too often, we set employees vague or conflicting goals, or celebrate performance without understanding what drove it. In sport, that would be a recipe for mediocrity. In the economy, it's a missed opportunity.
Evaluation isn't optional. It's how high‑performing systems learn. If we want to raise productivity, we need to be as disciplined about measurement and feedback as our best athletes. When you know what works, you can do more of it and do it better.
6. Collaboration: Teams, transfers and knowledge diffusion
One of the most underappreciated strengths of great teams is their willingness to share. Within a squad, players learn from one another - the forward helps the rookie with positioning, the senior player lifts the mood after a loss, the physiotherapist suggests a better recovery routine. The culture isn't just competitive. It's collaborative. Everyone rises when knowledge flows.
In sport, collaboration also happens across teams. Coaches move between clubs, bringing new strategies with them. Players switch sides and bring with them habits, training methods and locker‑room standards. When Kenyan distance runners began dominating the marathon, it wasn't just genetics - it was also that they trained together, pushing each other to run faster than anyone had run before. The concentration of talent is so intense that visiting journalist Adharanand Finn once called a wrong number in Eldoret, and found himself speaking not to Wilson Kipsang the 2:04 marathoner, but to William Kipsang the 2:05 marathoner.
Team sports can lift everyone's performance. In sports science, it's called the Köhler effect - the phenomenon where individuals perform better when they're part of a team than when training alone. In one study, Olympic swimmers clocked faster times in relay races than they did in solo events - despite racing the exact same distance. Knowing that others were relying on them made athletes dig deeper. If you've ever worked harder in a spin class than riding solo, or pushed further in team training than alone, you've felt the Köhler effect.
The economic analogue is just as powerful. People often do their best work when they feel part of something bigger - a shared mission with peers who challenge and support them. High‑performing firms tap into this by creating a culture where knowledge flows freely and where effort compounds.
Ideas also spread through movement - of people, of firms, of know‑how. Job‑switching often comes with a pay bump not just because the new employer offers more money, but because the worker brings fresh ideas. That boosts both productivity and wages.
Yet in recent decades, geographic mobility has declined. Australians are switching jobs less often. Fewer people are moving house, let alone interstate. There are many reasons: housing costs, insecure contracts, lifestyle choices. But the result is the same: ideas aren't circulating as freely as they could.
That's why our government is acting to reduce unnecessary barriers to movement. Scrapping non‑compete clauses for low‑ and middle‑income workers is one step. When employees are prevented from joining a competitor or starting their own business, knowledge is bottled up. Innovation stalls. Mobility slows. In sport, we wouldn't accept rules that stopped a promising player from joining another team. In the economy, we shouldn't either.
Mobility isn't just personal. It benefits the system. When a software engineer brings a new algorithm from one firm to another, or when a manager introduces a more inclusive hiring practice at their next job, those lessons ripple outward. Just as the Parramatta Eels turned around their fortunes in the 1970s by bringing in coach Norm Provan from St George, organisations thrive when they open themselves to outside influence.
It's also why collaboration between sectors matters. The best innovation ecosystems aren't confined to one industry or one postcode. They bring together researchers, entrepreneurs, public servants and practitioners. They host roundtables and hackathons, fellowships and field trials. They make it easy to bump into someone with a different perspective.
The Australian Institute of Sport has long understood this. It's not just a place where athletes train - it's a place where knowledge moves across disciplines. A gymnast might learn a new strength‑building technique from a sprinter. A swimmer might adapt a recovery protocol used by volleyballers. Basketballers and track athletes might compare strategies for managing pre‑race nerves or improving decision‑making under fatigue. Coaches, sports scientists and athletes share insights across codes, refining everything from training load to nutrition. The AIS - like the state and territory sporting academies - doesn't just build better individuals. It raises the collective standard.
A dynamic, high‑performing economy doesn't just invest in individuals - it builds the bridges that help them learn from one another. When good ideas travel fast, everyone plays a better game.
7. Pay the players properly: Equity and inclusion
In sport, as in life, talent is widely distributed - but opportunity is not. Every community has potential champions. But not every child has access to coaching, equipment or safe places to play. If we want great performances, we have to invest in the system that nurtures them - and that starts with fairness.
Paying the players properly is part of that. For too long, women's sport was treated as a sideshow. That's changing - not just because it's fair, but because it's smart. Crowds at AFLW and Matildas matches show that the appetite is there. When athletes are given the resources, visibility and respect they deserve, the standard rises. And so does the fan base.
Inclusion builds performance. When barriers fall, the talent pool grows. When role models emerge, participation follows. When the system reflects our community's diversity, it grows stronger, more resilient and more representative.
That's a lesson that applies far beyond sport.
In a well‑functioning economy, talent doesn't sit on the bench because their suburb didn't make the finals. When women, migrants, First Nations Australians and people with disability face systemic obstacles, we all lose out. Productivity suffers when talent is overlooked and people are excluded from roles where they could thrive.
One of the reasons Scandinavian countries consistently rank high on productivity is that they've worked to close gender gaps in education, employment and leadership. They haven't done it perfectly - no country has - but they've recognised that equity and efficiency aren't in tension. They reinforce one another.
Australia still has work to do. The gender pay gap is at an all‑time low, but it's still not zero. Leadership ranks remain unbalanced. Workplace discrimination, though less overt than in the past, hasn't disappeared. But change is possible and progress is happening.
Our government has strengthened the Workplace Gender Equality Act, requiring large employers to publish their gender pay gaps. We've backed women in STEM, expanded childcare access and invested in programs helping underrepresented Australians into secure meaningful work.
We've also recognised that good policy needs good data. Just as a coach can't improve a team without knowing who's getting game time, who's contributing and who's being overlooked, policymakers need to see where gaps exist and where interventions are working.
Sometimes, inclusion is about removing a structural barrier. Sometimes, it's about building confidence or belonging. Sometimes it's cultural: shifting expectations, challenging bias, creating space to perform.
In sport, we've seen what happens when that work is taken seriously. Think of Cathy Freeman in 2000, electrifying a nation. Or Ellie Cole finishing her Paralympic career as Australia's most decorated female Paralympian. Or the moment a young girl sees someone like her winning gold and thinks: maybe that could be me.
In a high‑performing economy, no one should be locked out because of who they are, where they live or what their parents did for a living. We don't all start from the same place, but we can build systems that give everyone a fair chance.
Fair play doesn't mean equal outcomes. It means equal respect, equal opportunity and support where it's needed. Ultimately, a system that includes more people will always perform better than one that leaves talent on the bench.
8. Conclusion: What sport can teach us
Australians care deeply about sport, not just because we like to win, but because we admire the qualities that great sport exemplifies: grit, fairness, discipline, imagination and teamwork. Watching athletes stretch themselves reminds us what it means to strive. Cheering the underdog shows we value effort, not just pedigree. And when we rally behind our teams, we're saying something about what we believe in: shared goals, shared rules, shared pride.
Sport isn't perfect. It faces its own challenges, from concussion management to corruption, from doping scandals to selection disputes. But even with those imperfections, sport remains one of the most powerful mirrors we have for thinking about performance. It shows what people can achieve when systems work: clear rules, aligned incentives and effort rewarded.
If we want a more productive economy, we can learn valuable lessons from the field, the court, the pool and the track.
Productivity growth isn't about working longer hours or simply squeezing more out of the same system. It's about creating the conditions in which people and ideas can thrive. At its heart, it means investing in 3 things: individuals, infrastructure and institutions.
Sport shows us how each of these matters.
First, individuals. At every level, sport depends on people who are supported to do their best. That might mean a young athlete being scouted and coached. It might mean a physiotherapist helping someone recover from injury. It might mean a mentor who builds confidence. The same holds in the economy. Investment in education, training, health and mobility equips individuals to improve, adapt and contribute. A high‑productivity economy recognises that people are not just inputs. They are the source of progress.
Second, infrastructure. No athlete breaks a world record on a pothole‑ridden track. Facilities matter: from swimming pools to strength rooms, rehab centres to video analysis labs. In the same way, economic infrastructure underpins productivity. Efficient transport, reliable energy, fast broadband and affordable housing are the equivalents of well‑maintained ovals and functioning scoreboards. They don't guarantee success, but without them, success is much harder.
Third, institutions. Sport thrives on fair rules and trusted bodies. It matters that referees are impartial, doping rules enforced, and player drafts and revenue‑sharing handled transparently. The same holds true for the economy. Good institutions - competition regulators, evaluation agencies, fair work bodies and data custodians - provide the scaffolding that allows a dynamic market economy to function. When institutions are strong, trust grows, investment flows and performance improves.
Throughout this speech, we've seen how these 3 investments - in people, infrastructure and institutions - interact and reinforce one another. A young athlete benefits from a great coach, a state‑of‑the‑art track and fair rules that govern competition. An entrepreneur benefits from good schooling, fast broadband and rules that reward innovation over incumbency.
Sport also reminds us that fairness and excellence are not opposites. They go hand in hand. In the best competitions, the champion has to keep proving themselves. And the outsider always has a shot. That's what keeps people engaged, both as fans and as participants. It keeps systems vibrant, adaptive and forward‑looking.
Productivity policy can feel abstract: spreadsheets, incentives, regulations. But underneath it all, it's about people. It's about how we unlock potential, how we share ideas, how we reward effort and creativity. In sport, we expect that every player will be supported, every contest will be fair and every win will be earned. We should demand the same from our economy.
So let's take inspiration from our athletes, not only for their achievements but for the systems that help make those achievements possible. Let's invest in individuals, infrastructure and institutions. Let's build an economy grounded in effort rather than privilege, where opportunity is real, rewards are earned and the rules encourage everyone to raise their game.
Whether you're wearing a race bib or a business suit, sprinting for a medal or building something new, the same truths hold: clear goals matter, good systems matter and fair play brings out our best.
Note: This speech draws partly on my book Fair Game: Lessons from Sport for a Fairer Society and a Stronger Economy.
