Liquor Licensing (Royal Commission Recommendations) Amendment Bill 2026
1 September 2026
I rise in support of the Liquor Licensing (Royal Commission Recommendations) Amendment Bill 2026. Before I speak about the provisions of the bill I want to speak about why this legislation is personal to me. This is not easy for me to say publicly. I have thought carefully about how much to share, and I do so not because my experience is unique but because it is not. Too many people in South Australia will recognise some part of their own childhood, their own relationship, or their own recovery in what I am about to say.
I was the victim of domestic violence both as a child and as an adult. My father died when I was 15 after living with severe mental health difficulties. He drank frequently and there was almost always alcohol in our home. Home delivery was not available then but ready access was. On the occasions when the alcohol ran out I caught glimpses of a different person. I saw who my father could be when he was not drinking all the time.
My father was not always violent, but whenever he was violent he had been drinking. Some of my strongest memories of childhood are of my father being violent towards my mother and behaving towards me in ways that no child should have to experience. A child should remember feeling safe in their home. A child should not learn to listen for changes in a parent's voice, to read the atmosphere in a room, or to calculate whether tonight might become dangerous. A child should not have to become watchful before they have even had the chance simply to be young.
I loved my father. I also feared him. Both things can be true. He was a person living with serious mental illness and he was responsible for the harm he caused. Both things can also be true. Speaking honestly about that harm is not an act of disloyalty: it is an acknowledgement of what happened and of what violence does to a family long after an incident itself has ended.
As happens to many children who grow up around violence, I later repeated patterns that had been made familiar to me. I entered a relationship in which I was subjected to domestic violence myself. When I eventually managed to leave, one of the most painful realisations was that I had not protected my children from the violence, manipulation and belittlement as well as I had believed I had.
I tried to shield them. I told myself that I was containing the harm. But children absorb much more than adults sometimes understand. They see fear, they hear contempt, they learn the tension of a household, even when the worst of the violence occurs out of their sight. That realisation has been among the hardest things for me to live with.
Domestic violence also reaches into almost every other part of a victim survivor's life. It can interrupt education, undermine employment and prevent the financial independence that might otherwise make leaving possible. It can narrow a person's world through coercion and control, but also through the isolation that comes from trying to conceal the perpetrator's behaviour, manage their anger and avoid situations that might provoke another incident. Friendships fade, opportunities are surrendered, and ambitions are put aside, not because the victim survivor lacks ability or determination but because so much of their energy is consumed by surviving and trying to keep others safe. That was my experience.
Twice I began university degrees and twice I had to abandon them because of the abuse and trauma I was living with. I was also deeply concerned about leaving my children in the perpetrator's care while I attended university. Walking away from those degrees was not simply a change of plan. It delayed my education, limited my opportunities, and made financial independence harder to achieve. These are among the less visible consequences of domestic violence. The harm is not confined to the moments of violence themselves; it can alter the course of a person's education, career, family relationships and economic security for years, with the effects being felt for a lifetime.
Leaving did not mean that the effects of violence ended. I experienced post-traumatic stress for a decade after I escaped that relationship. In some ways and moments, I still do. The experience permanently affected my sense of self-worth. That is one of the cruellest features of domestic violence: the perpetrator's voice can remain inside a victim survivor's mind long after the perpetrator no longer controls the room—and the tendency to blame oneself endures.
I share this knowing that people may ask why someone stays, why someone returns, why someone does not see the pattern sooner, or why a parent cannot simply protect their children and leave. Those questions misunderstand the nature of coercion. Domestic violence is not one bad argument or one isolated assault. It is a deliberate system of fear, degradation, manipulation and control. It erodes a person's confidence in their own judgement. It can make danger feel normal, abuse feel like an expression of love, and freedom feel impossible.
I also share this with a very clear caution: alcohol did not cause my father to be violent. It did not cause the violence in my adult relationship. Alcohol never excuses a person who chooses to use violence, and most people who consume alcohol do not harm their partners or families. Responsibility must always remain with the person who uses violence.
But it would be equally wrong to ignore what alcohol can do. It can lower inhibitions, intensify aggression and make violence more frequent, more severe and less predictable. It can turn an already unsafe home into a more dangerous one. The Royal Commission into Domestic, Family and Sexual Violence describes alcohol not as the root cause of domestic, family and sexual violence, but as a contributing factor and a major enabler. That distinction is vital. It is also the reason this bill matters to me.
The royal commission heard many victim survivors describe how substance misuse affected their lives and contributed to intergenerational harm. Its evidence found that nationally, alcohol was involved in around one-third of domestic violence incidents and 29 per cent of family violence incidents. It found that alcohol-related domestic violence was associated with more severe violence and a greater likelihood of injury.
Here in South Australia, SAPOL data examined by the royal commission showed that almost half of the high-risk domestic and family violence incidents reviewed through the Multi-Agency Protection Service in 2023-24 involved alcohol as a risk factor. The royal commission also found that repeat incidents in South Australia were more likely to involve alcohol and drugs than not. These are not abstract figures. These are about homes in which fear and danger may be escalating. A child may be listening from another room, or worse, or a victim survivor may be assessing whether it is safe to seek help.
The royal commission also heard that online and rapid alcohol delivery has changed the environment in which that risk arises. Alcohol can now be ordered during an escalating incident and arrive at the home shortly afterwards. A person who has already consumed alcohol no longer needs to leave the premises, encounter staff who can make a determination based on responsible service of alcohol, or experience a natural break in access. Technology has made purchasing more convenient, but convenience cannot be the only value reflected in our law.
This bill responds directly to recommendations 128 and 129 of the royal commission. First, it amends the long title of the Liquor Licensing Act 1997 to state expressly that the act is concerned with minimising harm and the potential for harm caused by excessive or inappropriate consumption of liquor. Words in legislation matter. They shape how statute is understood, administered and applied.
This amendment makes clear that liquor regulation is not concerned only with facilitating a lawful market, it is also a public safety framework. Harm minimisation belongs at the heart of that framework. This is a safety by design approach. It recognises that we should not place the entire burden of avoiding harm on the person who is already at risk. We should also design the systems surrounding the safe sale and supply of alcohol to reduce foreseeable danger.
Second, the bill establishes a minimum two-hour safety pause between the placement of an online or other direct sales order and its delivery to an address in South Australia. This will be a mandatory condition of every relevant licence. It cannot simply be varied or removed. The pause is modest but intentional. It disrupts rapid access to more alcohol. It introduces time into a situation in which intoxication, anger and control may otherwise be escalating together. It may allow an immediate crisis to subside
It may create time for a victim survivor to call someone, for a neighbour to intervene, for police to arrive or for the person at risk to leave. No responsible person claims that two hours will prevent every act of violence; it will not, but legislation does not need to solve every dimension of a problem before it can reduce a known risk. Creating friction at the point where harm can escalate is a legitimate and practical form of prevention.
Third, the bill restricts same-day alcohol delivery to between 10am and 10pm. Deliveries on a later day may continue between 8am and 10pm. The same-day restriction will apply across the relevant general and hotel, club, packaged liquor sales, liquor production and sales, and interstate direct sales licences. Late at night can be a particularly dangerous time in a household affected by violence. The evidence given to the royal commission included the observation from Aboriginal community leaders that violence becomes more severe late at night when alcohol is being delivered into homes.
Preventing an immediate early morning delivery and preserving the existing 10pm end point are sensible guardrails. These reforms do not prohibit adults from purchasing alcohol. They do not prevent a person planning ahead or receiving a delivery ordered on a previous day during the existing lawful hours. They place proportionate limits on rapid same-day supply in recognition of the risks identified by the royal commission.
Fourth, the bill replaces references to 'domestic violence' in the Liquor Licensing Act with 'domestic, family and sexual violence'. This is more than a change in terminology. It recognises the full range and context of violence that can occur within intimate relationships and families, and it expressly includes sexual violence. The words we use determine what is seen. They determine whose experience is recognised by the law. The broader language reflects the reality documented by the royal commission and the advocacy of the sector.
Recommendation 130 also requires the Liquor and Gambling Commissioner to monitor and evaluate how these amendments operate in practice, recommend further reform if required and review the regulatory levers available to ensure that harm minimisation is achieved. The government has accepted that recommendation. That commitment to evaluation is important. This bill should not be treated as the conclusion of the work. We must examine its effect, listen to victim survivors and frontline services, identify unintended consequences and remain prepared to strengthen the framework if the evidence requires it.
The royal commissioner cited evidence from other jurisdictions showing that alcohol regulation can reduce violence. In Alice Springs, a combination of minimum pricing and liquor inspectors was associated with a one-third reduction in alcohol-related domestic and family violence assaults. Restrictions on daily purchases and opening hours in Tenant Creek were associated with a 78 per cent reduction in all domestic and family violence assaults. Research in Newcastle linked restrictions on late-night trading hours with a sustained 29 per cent reduction in domestic and family violence assaults.
We should be cautious in transferring findings between different communities, and the royal commission itself emphasised the need for responses that are community led, culturally safe and suited to local conditions. However, the broad lesson is clear: the regulatory environment can influence the level and severity of alcohol-related harm.
Alcohol regulation is only one part of a much larger response. Lasting prevention requires us to confront gender inequality, coercive control, harmful attitudes, intergenerational trauma, and the social norms that permit violence. It requires effective policing and courts, safe accommodation, specialist services, perpetrator accountability, early intervention, prevention education and long-term recovery support. That is why the government's Building Safer Futures five-year implementation plan is so important. The plan responds to the royal commission with an initial $674 million investment over 10 years to strengthen services and build a more effective domestic, family and sexual violence prevention system.
While other states have disbanded centralised statewide domestic and family violence support units, the Malinauskas Labor government is making major investments in a dedicated SAPOL domestic, family and sexual violence service, new services for children and families experiencing violence, expanded prevention and behaviour change programs, improved access to forensic medical examinations, and a 24-hour central telephone and digital support line.
The government has established a standalone ministerial portfolio and the Office of Domestic, Family and Sexual Violence. The Lived Experience Advisory Network will help ensure that reform is shaped not only around victim survivors but with them. Progress will be independently reviewed and publicly reported. That whole-of-system work matters because there is no single pathway into domestic, family and sexual violence, and there can be no single legislative pathway out of it.
For children, the stakes are generational. A child who grows up around violence can carry its lessons into adulthood: lessons about what love looks like, what behaviour must be tolerated, and what treatment they believe they deserve. I know that personally. Breaking that cycle requires us to support children as victim survivors in their own right, not merely as witnesses standing at the edge of an adult problem. It also requires hope. Repeating a pattern is not destiny. Trauma can explain vulnerability, but it does not condemn a person to a particular future. With safety, support and accountability, lives can be rebuilt, but recovery takes far longer than many people realise. It asks the victim survivor to reconstruct trust, identity and self-respect, often while parenting, working and dealing with legal or financial consequences.
When we debate domestic, family and sexual violence in this place, we are speaking about people who may be listening while still living with a perpetrator. We are speaking about people who have left but who remain unsafe. We are speaking about children who do not yet have the words for what is happening in their home. We are speaking about people who carry experiences from decades ago and are still learning that what happened was not their fault. To anyone who recognises themselves in this speech, the shame is not yours. The responsibility belongs to the person who chose to use violence. Asking for help is not weakness, and leaving is not a single moment by which anyone else is entitled to measure your courage.
I want to acknowledge the victim survivors who gave evidence to the royal commission, along with the advocates, Aboriginal leaders, frontline workers, researchers and service organisations whose knowledge shaped its recommendations. Lived experience is costly knowledge. When people entrust it to government we owe them more than sympathy: we owe them action.
This bill is one such action. It is targeted, evidence-informed and proportionate. It recognises the connection between alcohol availability and the frequency and severity of violence, without shifting responsibility away from perpetrators. It introduces a pause where speed creates risk. It limits same-day delivery hours where late-night access can compound harm. It puts harm minimisation into the purpose of our liquor laws. It names domestic, family and sexual violence in full.
For me, this bill carries the memory of the child I was, watching alcohol change the atmosphere of a home. It carries the knowledge of the adult I became, trying to survive violence and protect my children. It carries the long aftermath of trauma and the belief that our laws can make choices that help create safety before the worst occurs. We cannot rewrite the childhood of any victim survivor. We cannot undo the violence that has already occurred, but we can listen to what those experiences teach us. We can reduce foreseeable risks, we can build systems that do not privilege convenience over safety, and we can act before another child learns to recognise danger by the sound of a bottle being opened.
I thank the Premier for having the courage and determination to establish this royal commission and confront the scale of domestic, family and sexual violence in our state. I also commend Commissioner Natasha Stott Despoja AO for the care, rigour and humanity with which she conducted this important work, and I acknowledge every victim survivor who entrusted the commission with their experience. I commend the minister for bringing this bill before the house, and I commend this bill to the house.
The DEPUTY SPEAKER: Can I thank the member for Dunstan. She delivered a very personal reflection on what we are debating here today. Sometimes being vulnerable is very hard, but people are listening. Thank you for sharing with us your lived experience.