The Cracks in the Liberal Facade: James Griffin’s Exit and the Unraveling of NSW Politics
There’s something deeply symbolic about a politician stepping down months before an election. It’s not just a resignation—it’s a statement. When Liberal frontbencher James Griffin announced his exit from NSW politics, it wasn’t just a personal decision; it was a canary in the coal mine for the Liberal Party’s crumbling fortunes. Personally, I think this move speaks volumes about the internal despair within the party, and it’s a story that goes far beyond one man’s career.
A Resignation That Speaks Volumes
Griffin’s departure isn’t just about him. It’s about timing, context, and the broader political landscape. As shadow energy minister and a self-proclaimed future leader, Griffin was no small fish. His decision to leave six months before the election is a blunt assessment of the Coalition’s prospects. What makes this particularly fascinating is the way he framed his exit—not as a retreat, but as a call to defend the “sensible centre” of politics. It’s a noble sentiment, but it also feels like a last-ditch effort to salvage some dignity in a party that’s losing its grip on reality.
From my perspective, Griffin’s emphasis on the rise of populism is a thinly veiled critique of his own party’s shift to the right. The Liberals, once seen as the party of pragmatic governance, are now struggling to define themselves in the face of a resurgent One Nation. Griffin’s warning about the “politics of grievance” isn’t just a philosophical musing—it’s a direct shot at the populists who are eating away at the Coalition’s base.
The Manly Seat: A Microcosm of the Larger Battle
Griffin’s seat of Manly is more than just a marginal electorate; it’s a battleground for the soul of the Liberal Party. Held by Griffin with a razor-thin margin, it’s now at risk of falling to the teal independents or even Labor. What many people don’t realize is that Manly isn’t just any seat—it’s a symbol of the Liberals’ struggle to balance their moderate and conservative wings. Griffin’s brand of “optimistic Liberalism” feels increasingly out of place in a party that’s lurching to the right.
If you take a step back and think about it, the Manly seat is a perfect metaphor for the broader political shift in Australia. The rise of independents like Zali Steggall federally shows that voters are rejecting the major parties’ polarization. Griffin’s exit makes it even harder for the Liberals to hold onto these centrist voters, who are increasingly disillusioned with the party’s direction.
The Sloane Dilemma: Leading a Party in Freefall
Opposition Leader Kellie Sloane has her work cut out for her. Griffin’s resignation is just the latest in a string of setbacks for the Liberals. The party’s polling numbers are abysmal, with the Coalition trailing both Labor and One Nation. Sloane’s preferred premier rating of 16% is a damning indictment of her leadership—or perhaps, the party’s inability to offer a compelling vision.
One thing that immediately stands out is how the Liberals’ internal chaos is playing out in public. The ICAC investigation into allegations of corruption involving developer Jean Nassif has tarnished the party’s reputation. It’s not just about the allegations themselves; it’s about the perception that the Liberals are out of touch and morally compromised. This raises a deeper question: Can a party recover from such a crisis, or is this the beginning of the end for the NSW Liberals?
The Rise of Populism and the Death of the Centre
Griffin’s warning about populism isn’t just a local issue—it’s a global trend. From Trump to Bolsonaro, we’ve seen how the politics of grievance can upend traditional parties. In NSW, One Nation’s surge is a stark reminder that voters are angry, and they’re looking for someone to blame. What this really suggests is that the Liberals’ attempts to co-opt populist rhetoric have backfired, alienating their moderate base while failing to win over the far right.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Griffin’s own policy stances—his support for voluntary assisted dying and his fight against poker machines. These are issues that resonate with centrist voters, yet they’ve been sidelined in the party’s scramble to appease its conservative wing. It’s a classic case of a party losing its identity in the pursuit of power.
What’s Next for NSW Politics?
Griffin’s exit is just one piece of a much larger puzzle. The NSW election is shaping up to be a referendum on the Liberals’ future—and the early signs aren’t good. The party’s inability to articulate a clear vision, coupled with its internal divisions, makes it hard to see a path to victory.
In my opinion, the Liberals need a radical reset. They need to reclaim the centre ground, not by pandering to populism, but by offering a genuine alternative to the politics of division. Whether they can do that remains to be seen.
Final Thoughts
James Griffin’s resignation is more than just a political footnote—it’s a moment of reckoning for the NSW Liberals. It forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about the state of Australian politics: the erosion of the centre, the rise of populism, and the failure of major parties to adapt.
As I reflect on this, I’m struck by how much has changed in just a few years. The Liberals, once the dominant force in NSW politics, are now fighting for survival. Griffin’s exit is a reminder that politics is as much about principles as it is about power. And in a world where principles seem increasingly rare, his departure feels like the end of an era.
What this really suggests is that the NSW election isn’t just about who wins or loses—it’s about the kind of politics we want to see in Australia. And that, in my opinion, is the most important question of all.
