Coalition Uncoupling: It's Not You, It’s Net Zero

The Coalition’s messy divorce and what it means for the rest of us left eating microwave dinners and waiting at school pick-up.

In a week where political alliances unravelled faster than a MAFS couple on commitment day, the Liberal and National parties ended their Coalition marriage.

And as a family law psychologist, I watched the whole thing with a sense of professional déjà vu. This wasn’t just a political rift, it was a textbook divorce; petty, public, and full of thinly veiled resentment.

The only thing missing was a “conscious uncoupling” post and a new Instagram bio.

The Irreconcilable Differences

Like many couples who drift apart over time, the Liberals and Nationals found themselves at odds over fundamental values.

The Nationals claim it’s not them - it’s the Liberals.

I imagine the final straw came when one party said, “I think we should try nuclear,” and the other replied, “You’ve changed.”

Disagreements on energy policy, supermarket divestiture powers, and regional funding became the proverbial "we just want different things" conversation . It's reminiscent of couples who, after years together, realise they have divergent visions for the future.

Nationals leader David Littleproud reportedly broke the news to the Liberals just 30 minutes before the press conference. That’s not just poor communication, it’s the political equivalent of sending a breakup text while the other person is making your dinner.

So Who Gets the House and the Car?

Well, the Liberals keep the keys to the Opposition Leader's Office and the official opposition title - like the parent who keeps the family home and car because their name's on the mortgage. Meanwhile, the Nationals are left packing up their offices and wondering if they’ll get any visitation rights during Question Time.

The Nationals will potentially lose access to extra staff, money, and nice titles, basically, the political equivalent of losing the Thermomix in the property settlement.

And What About the Kids?

Ah, yes…the forgotten ones.

In every separation, someone asks: “But what about the children?” In this case, the children are the voters. And much like the kids caught in the middle of warring parents, the electorate is left confused, unrepresented, and eating microwave dinners while mum and dad scream about uranium and Coles’ market dominance.

The absence of a coherent, united opposition leaves Australia without a strong check on government power. It’s like both parents walked out mid-custody battle, and no one showed up to the school concert or signed the excursion form.

The parents have moved out and left the country to be raised by TikTok and Albanese.

Should We Be Worried?

Yes. Because while the Coalition partners are busy crafting passive-aggressive press releases and calling each other names in Parliament’s equivalent of a family dispute resolution conference, the rest of us are sitting in the group chat of democracy, wondering who’s going to take responsibility.

Australia needs a strong, functioning opposition to hold government accountable. Right now, we’ve got something closer to a dysfunctional co-parenting arrangement, one side sulking in the spare room, and the other googling “Can I lead a political party from the shed?”

A Hope for Reconciliation?

Well, they say they might get back together before the next election, like every separated couple who says, “We’re just taking time to figure things out” while already dating someone new (hello, Teal flirtations and rogue independents).

Will the Libs and Nats reunite before the next election? Probably. But like any good family law professional, I’d advise a clear parenting plan, a financial agreement, and a serious session of joint therapy.

In Conclusion…

At the end of the day, this isn’t just a messy political breakup, it’s a leadership vacuum with joint custody of apathy. The Liberals and Nationals might be too busy fighting over who gets to keep the “centre-right” label and first dibs on Sky News, but meanwhile, Australia’s left wondering who’s actually steering the ship.

In family law, when both parents check out, we call it neglect. In politics, we just call it “business as usual.”

So to the Coalition: take some time, do some soul-searching, and please, if you’re going to stay separated, at least show up to parent-teacher night. The kids are watching.

Clare Rowe is a psychologist specialising in family law. She writes about the intersection of psychology, law, and society on her Substack, The Rowe Report.