Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander advisory groups now exist in most Australian health organizations, yet their actual authority remains unclear. Jayde Fuller, a Gamilaroi woman and founder of Indigenous Regulatory Practice, challenges the assumption that these groups are incomplete governance structures. Instead, she argues they serve a different purpose—one that prioritizes legitimacy, cultural cover, expertise, and deniability without requiring executives to relinquish decision-making power.
The question Fuller poses is straightforward: Can you name one decision made by an advisory group in the past year that an executive couldn’t overturn? The answer, she found, was often silence. These groups don’t fail because they’re weak—they succeed because they deliver what institutions need without forcing real power-sharing. Their spread across Australia, Aotearoa, and Canada reflects their efficiency, not their ambition.
Legitimacy, cultural cover, expertise, and deniability are the four outcomes advisory groups reliably produce. They allow organizations to claim Indigenous involvement while retaining full control. Fuller calls this “structural rather than moral”, the design works without anyone intending it to. The problem isn’t that these groups are ineffective; it’s that they’re too effective at doing what they were built to do.
Five rules for real Indigenous governance authority
But what if the goal isn’t just participation but actual governance? Fuller identifies five determinants that decide whether Indigenous advisory bodies hold real authority:
Read Also: Reporter Recalls Chaos of 9/11 Attack
- A delegation instrument—not just terms of reference. A true transfer of decision-making power, not just a discussion forum.
- Reserved matters—decisions the executive can’t make alone, where the advisory body’s agreement is required.
- A statutory footing—regulation, not policy, which can’t be rewritten by the same people it constrains.
- Control over membership—who appoints members and who can decline reappointment without explanation.
- An independent secretariat—funding and reporting structures that don’t leave the body vulnerable to executive influence.
These aren’t checkboxes. They form a single mechanism, and the weakest link determines the ceiling. An advisory group with three of five conditions might still produce the same outcomes as one with none. The difference lies in whether the structure was built to transfer authority, or just to consult on it.
A common objection is that boards can’t delegate authority because they remain legally accountable. But boards already delegate vast powers to chief executives while staying accountable for outcomes. Authority and accountability aren’t the same. If a national government can transfer decision-making while retaining accountability, like Canada’s Tripartite Framework Agreement on First Nations Health Governance—then boards can too.
That agreement, renewed in 2023, is the rare example where Indigenous governance isn’t just advisory but operational. The First Nations Health Authority in British Columbia now plans, designs, manages, and delivers health programs. The Crown’s role shifted from designer to governance partner, a model that has survived a full decade and a major renegotiation.
What makes this case stand out is transparency. The agreement is public, detailing what was transferred, who holds it, and how it’s funded. An outsider can verify several of the five conditions just by reading the document. Compare that to Australia’s Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander committees, where only one condition, the delegation itself, is publicly visible. The rest remain internal, unexamined.
Read Also: Texas Buckeyes return for Texas rematch after tight losses
Canada’s model proves power-sharing works, why isn’t Australia following?
The contrast reveals a critical gap. Even in jurisdictions with strong legal frameworks, like Canada’s adoption of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples—regulators have yet to follow the health authorities’ lead in transferring decision-making power.
Fuller’s point isn’t that Australia is behind, but that the path is already mapped. British Columbia’s regional health authorities have done the slow, unglamorous work of defining which decisions to move, how, and with whose agreement. The question for regulators now isn’t whether it’s possible, but whether they’re willing to ask how it was done.
The cost of real governance isn’t just procedural. It requires executives to give up control over timelines, framing, and final decisions. Organizations unwilling to make those trade-offs won’t be convinced by goodwill or commitments. The alternative, advisory groups that can be ignored, isn’t a failure. It’s the default. The question remains: Which one do you want?
The answer lies in whether an organization is willing to build a structure where Indigenous voices don’t just advise, they decide. And whether it’s prepared to document that structure so the world can see.