21/05/2026
Part 5
I sat down to go through the veterans’ component of the Budget properly, not just what was said on the night, but what actually sits underneath it, this is one of those areas that is always presented well, there is always language about honouring service, supporting those who have served the country, responding to the Royal Commission, improving access to care.
And I don’t think any of that is insincere. But as with most health policy, what matters is not how it is framed, it is how it functions once it lands in real clinical practice.
As a GP, this isn’t foreign for me. I have always bulk billed my veterans and I will continue to do so. I actually finished a weekend in Adelaide teaching MBS compliance and presented on DVA and the benefits, how to help DVA patients access care and services. Bulk-billing DVA patients never really felt like a business decision. It is simply the right thing to do. These are patients who often carry complex, long‑standing physical and psychological injuries, and the last thing they need is another barrier to access. They also tend to require more time, more continuity, and more navigation through a system that is not always easy to work within. I would strongly encourage other GPs to do the same, not because it is easy, but because it is one of the few points in the system where we can still choose to make access straightforward.
When you look at the Budget itself, there is funding there. Around $170 million has been allocated to increase allied health fees for veterans, which is something that has been overdue for a long time. There are also references to improving systems, simplifying processes, and responding to the Royal Commission into Defence and Veteran Su***de. If you read that at face value, it feels like we are moving in the right direction. The detail tells a different story.
The change that matters most isn’t the fee increase. It is the introduction of a $5,000 annual cap on allied health services. And it is the kind of change that sounds administrative, almost technical, until you stop and think about what that actually means in practice.
A physiotherapy session sits somewhere around $100. Psychology is commonly $200 to $250. Occupational therapy, exercise physiology, pain management, all sit in similar ranges depending on complexity. It does not take long to reach $5,000 if you are someone who genuinely needs regular care. A veteran having fortnightly physiotherapy and even intermittent psychology support will move toward that cap quickly. Add in any complexity, chronic pain, trauma, rehabilitation, and it is reached well before the end of the year.
And then what happens?
Care does not simply continue. It becomes something that needs to be justified. Approved. Managed. It moves out of the space of “this is what the patient needs” and into “this is what the system will allow”.
That is a very different model of care.
The fee increase, while welcome, does not change that. In reality, DVA fees still sit below private market rates in many areas. Providers already limit DVA patients, not out of reluctance, but because of time, admin burden, and financial viability. Increasing fees slightly while placing a cap on total care does not address that underlying issue. It simply changes where the constraint sits.
What is also difficult to ignore is the language used to support these changes. The focus on “overservicing” is familiar. We have seen that language increasingly across Medicare and compliance frameworks. It reflects a system that is trying to manage cost in an environment where demand continues to grow. When you apply that language to the veteran population, it becomes uncomfortable.
These are not low‑needs patients. They are not accessing care casually or unnecessarily. Many are managing lifelong injuries, chronic pain, PTSD, and a range of complex conditions that require sustained, multidisciplinary input. The care they receive is often what keeps them functional, what allows them to remain in the community, what prevents escalation into crisis or hospital-level care. Framing that as overservicing risks misunderstanding the nature of the need itself. There is a much larger structural change happening in the background, one that has received relatively little attention. From July 2026, the system is being consolidated into a more centralised model, bringing multiple legislative frameworks into a single structure. On paper, that will simplify things. Fewer systems, clearer rules, easier navigation.
Simplification in these systems rarely happens in isolation. It is usually accompanied by standardisation, and standardisation inevitably introduces control. Care becomes easier to track, easier to measure, and easier to limit. Decisions become more consistent, but they also become less flexible. The system gains clarity, but the individual loses some of the variability that previously allowed care to be shaped around circumstances rather than categories. When you layer that together with caps, with digital tracking, with more structured approvals, the direction of travel becomes fairly clear.
What is perhaps the most uncomfortable part is the context it sits within. The Budget speaks to implementing recommendations from the Royal Commission into Defence and Veteran Su***de, which highlighted significant challenges around access to care, system complexity, and the burden placed on veterans navigating support. There is funding directed toward understanding the problem better, improving data systems, and streamlining processes. At the same time, access to care is being more tightly defined.
We are building a better picture of need, while introducing clearer limits on how that need can be met.
Like much of this Budget, the pressure does not sit neatly where it is created. When veterans reach those caps, or cannot access services when they need them, that demand does not disappear. It moves. It comes back into general practice. It sits longer in hospital. It is managed by families who are already carrying a load. The system does not remove demand. It redistributes it.
There is also a broader irony that is hard to ignore, even if it is not something anyone will say out loud. At the same time as we are increasing defence spending and investing heavily in future military capability, we are placing clearer limits on the cost of caring for those who have already served. It is not a contradiction that is formally acknowledged, but it sits there nonetheless.
None of this suggests that there is an intention to disadvantage veterans. There is genuine effort within the system, and there are people working hard to improve it. The underlying direction is difficult to miss. This is a system moving toward greater control, tighter financial boundaries, and more structured access to care.
For clinicians, that means navigating a system that is more administrative, more constrained, and more dependent on justification rather than judgment alone. For veterans, it means access that becomes progressively more conditional.
And for the rest of us, it is a useful reminder that how we value a group is not just reflected in what we say, but in how the system behaves when they actually need care.
Apologies to all our Veterans. Accessing services and care will now have another layer of complexity that will result in reduced services and increased stress.
