The Australian newspaper recently reported on how Chief Justice Grant had told lawyers at a Darwin conference earlier this month:

‘I’m now firmly of the view after 10 years (in my current role) that personal and specific deterrents don’t operate on Aboriginal offenders as they might do on other offenders.’

We need to ask why that is.

Chief Justice Grant provided some insight when he stated that he believes ‘that most Aboriginal people – given that these crimes are committed at the height of passion and or when they’re intoxicated – don’t think at all about what the consequences of their actions are’. Chief Justice Grant is unequivocal that alcohol plays a significant role in violence, adding, ‘In almost 10 years on this court I’ve only sentenced one Aboriginal offender for violent or sexual offending who was not intoxicated by alcohol at the time the events were committed.’

While I mostly agree with the esteemed Chief Justice Grant’s assessment, I would add three other points. First, rather than suggesting that ‘deterrents don’t operate on Aboriginal offenders as they might do on other offenders’, I would refine this idea to say that deterrents ‘alone’ don’t operate on Aboriginal offenders but must be used in conjunction with other responses – responses that I discuss shortly.

Second, even if alcohol does not lead to violence, its effects can still be harmful (e.g. poorer health, antisocial behaviour, less money for essentials) hence it needs to be managed.

Third, being intoxicated is not the only reason why some people don’t think about the consequences of their actions. While there may be several other reasons, I focus on one in this article, as I believe it is very relevant to Aboriginal Australians. A sense of despairing hopelessness can also cause a person to disregard the consequences of their actions. Without hope, people genuinely don’t care about tomorrow or next week. They only care about here and now. In contrast, when a person has hope, whether they be Aboriginal or non-Aboriginal, they are more likely to think about the future, think about their actions, and behave responsibly.

Such being the case, a strategy to end alcohol abuse and its associated problems, such as violence, must promote a sense of hope. The strategy I’m advocating is consistent with Thoreau’s timeless advice: ‘There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root.’ We must continue hacking at the branches, but we also must start striking at the roots. In the current context, the ‘branches of evil’ represent violent behaviour and alcohol abuse, while the ‘roots’ represent a sense of hopelessness.

We need to work on both the ‘branches’ and the ‘roots’; both the symptoms and the causes. Addressing the symptoms means providing safe spaces for victims of violence, removing the perpetrators of violence, which can often mean incarceration. I acknowledge that the deterrent of incarceration alone, will often not stop an individual from drinking once released from prison. Support in the form of addiction counselling as well as the implementation of alcohol bans is often required. But at the same time, we need to restore in people a sense of hope; they need to know that they matter. Do this and not only will people be less likely to engage in violence and abuse alcohol, but they’ll more likely become productive members of society. The end result is that we will transform Aboriginal communities.

So, how do we do restore hope among people who live in environments where violence and alcohol abuse are common, even normalised? The answer is the same for both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians –we ensure their fundamental needs are met. Of course, there may be small variations in how those needs are met for different groups of Australians, but at the very least, we all need to know that life can be good, feel safe and supported, have choices, and know that our own efforts can make a real difference in our own lives and the lives of others.

Achieving this in modern-day Australia typically means living in communities that are economically viable where the adults are appropriately skilled for work and job-ready, and the children are attending school regularly.

However, some remote communities may never be economically viable for a host of reasons, such as small populations, difficulty supplying goods and services, and generation after generation on welfare. For such communities, the people may need to relocate to nearby communities and towns.

The psychological benefits of being employed in a meaningful job are aptly described by Aboriginal leader and former Northern Territory minister, Alison Anderson: ‘It is not just about the money … it is about status and respect, about responsibility and dignity.’ Further, back in 2011, Aboriginal leader, and former Australian of the year, Dr Galarrwuy Yunupingu, noted that, ‘People must work, must exchange their effort for value, if they are to feel that they are useful and worthwhile.’

Regarding education, Dr Yunupingu has stated, ‘Education remains the central part of anyone’s future, as it gives a young person what they need to survive in the world … the first advice I give is to make education the priority … of course children must go to school every day.’ And what could motivate them to go to school? Seeing their parents and other significant adults in their lives working. Children, all children, need to know that going to school and getting a good education is the surest way to achieve dreams; and dreaming promotes help.

As a nation, let’s hold the government more accountable for how it spends money on Aboriginal Australians. Governments should not waste money on treaties, reparations, and truth-telling commissions. We should not be telling Aboriginal people that they’re perpetual victims of colonisation and racism. This country has thousands of Aboriginal people, both young and old who are champions and role models. They succeeded without the need for treaties, reparations, and truth-telling commissions – they looked for opportunities and not excuses.