The silent economy behind Tasmania’s health care

We're surrounded by noise, a deafening drumbeat of division and fear about who belongs here and how many are too many.

It's a national debate fuelled by mainland rhetoric, but, on our vibrant little island, we have a clear eyed perspective.

Our future, our comfort and our very ability to function depend on a simple, often unseen truth.I want to share a story about a perfectly ordinary day to illustrate this point.

Take a look around you and imagine this very realistic scenario: you're unwell, perhaps on your own at home, and you need to go to the hospital.

You can't drive, so you call a rideshare service.

Your Uber driver picks you up, navigating the winding roads quickly and safely, and drops you off right at the door of the emergency department.

You arrive at A&E to be greeted by the triage nurse.

Your symptoms concern the nurse, and she expedites your care to visit the onsite GP, who runs the necessary checks.

Fortunately, you check out okay and are sent home.

Exhausted, you grab a taxi waiting out the front of the hospital, who takes you home.

You arrive, too tired to cook but hungry enough to eat a horse and chase the jockey, so you order a takeaway.

It's delivered to your door by a friendly delivery rider, allowing you to curl up for the night for a recovery at home.What do you think the profound point I'm trying to make here is?

It's pretty obvious, isn't it?

Every single person I mentioned in that story was a migrant, and their roles, from the essential frontline health staff to the people ensuring your transport and sustenance, are vital to the smooth running of your life and mine.

This reliance on migrants, both skilled and unskilled, is not a coincidence.

It's the backbone of our community and our economy, yet we still hear the tiresome base-level arguments.

The angle peddled by some is simple and, frankly, lazy. 'We don't want this one; we want that one.' 'We don't want this many; we want no-one.' This is not how a modern economy works, and it is certainly not how we build a strong, compassionate society in Tasmania.

It's time the banging of the anti-mass-migration drum was drowned out by the sound of construction, enterprise and care.We don't need to waste taxpayer dollars on a plebiscite.

They tried to introduce this bill, the Plebiscite (Future Migration Level) Bill, in 2018, and its message is still falling flat.

It's no question that migrants add to our one nation and don't detract from it.

In my experience—and, I believe, in the experience of most Tasmanians—the work ethic, the commitment to family and the profound desire to engage and interact shown by migrants who have chosen to settle in Tasmania are both admirable and deeply patriotic.

They are not taking jobs; they are filling gaps, creating new markets and sustaining our entire service economy.Tasmania has a crucial choice.

We can choose isolation, fear and stagnation, or we can choose growth, prosperity and, above all, kindness.

Our aging demographic means we are critically dependent on new blood and new skills.

Every migrant who arrives here is an investment in our future.

To every new Tasmanian—to the doctors, the drivers, the delivery drivers, the small-business owners and the factory workers—I say: I and many of my fellow Tasmanians appreciate you, we value your services and you are welcome in our island state.

Let us commit to leading the nation, not in division but in radical, necessary inclusion.