Disabled Women Are Not Collateral Damage: Why Disability Policy Is Women's Safety Policy

This article reflects my personal views informed by both lived experience as a disabled woman and professional experience working within the disability sector. It is intended as a contribution to public discussion regarding disability policy, safeguarding, violence prevention, women's safety and human rights. Any observations regarding policy impacts are based on professional and lived experience and are offered to encourage discussion about the intersection between disability, safety, housing, poverty and access to support.This submission argues that women with disability already experience disproportionately high rates of violence and abuse, and that reforms affecting access to disability supports should be considered in the context of those existing vulnerabilities. It also highlights the particular challenges faced by disabled women who are mothers, women caring for children with disability, and women experiencing multiple forms of disadvantage.

I have been thinking a great deal lately about the national conversation Australia is currently having about violence against women and, in particular, about who is included in that conversation and who is not.

Governments, advocacy organisations, service systems and communities are rightly talking about coercive control, domestic and family violence, femicide, housing insecurity, prevention and women's safety. These conversations are important and we need them to save lives. There is increasing recognition that violence against women is not simply an individual problem but one shaped by poverty, housing insecurity, inequality, social isolation and access to support.

What I continue to struggle with, however, is the apparent disconnect between those conversations and the discussions currently taking place about disability policy.

Women with disability are already among the groups most likely to experience violence, abuse, neglect, exploitation and coercive control in Australia.

The Disability Royal Commission heard extensive evidence regarding violence experienced by disabled women and girls and described rates of family, domestic and sexual violence as alarming. The Commission noted that 40 per cent of women with disability had experienced physical violence and that women with disability were twice as likely to experience sexual violence as women without disability.

The Australian Bureau of Statistics has similarly reported that women with disability are more likely to experience partner violence, emotional abuse, sexual harassment and stalking than women without disability.

These statistics demonstrate that disabled women are already starting from a position of greater vulnerability.

That is important because when governments make decisions about disability supports, those decisions are not being made in a vacuum. They are being made in the context of a population that is already experiencing disproportionately high rates of violence, abuse and exploitation.

Given this reality, I find it difficult to understand why disability policy and women's safety are so often treated as though they exist in separate worlds.

Australia cannot claim to be serious about ending violence against women while simultaneously treating disability policy as though it has nothing to do with women's safety.

As the Labor government pursues significant reforms to the NDIS, much of the public discussion has centred on sustainability, expenditure, fraud, over-servicing and scheme integrity. Accountability matters. Sustainability matters. Public confidence in the scheme matters. I do not disagree with any of that.

What concerns me is that far less attention appears to be given to what happens when supports are reduced, delayed or become harder to access for the people who rely on them.

Because disability-related need does not disappear when support disappears.

A person who requires assistance to shower safely still requires that assistance whether funding is approved or not.

A person who relies on psychosocial supports to maintain stability still has those support needs regardless of whether services remain available.

A woman trying to leave a violent relationship does not become safer simply because disability supports have become more difficult to access.

The need does not disappear when support disappears. The question is whether the consequences are borne by individuals, families and communities instead. In my professional work, I have seen what happens when people receive the right support at the right time. I have seen people maintain housing, avoid hospitalisation, remain connected to their communities and build safer and more independent lives.

I have also seen what happens when support is delayed, disputed or withdrawn. I have seen people deteriorate while waiting for reviews and appeals. I have seen families become overwhelmed by caring responsibilities. I have seen people become increasingly isolated and vulnerable. I have seen women remain in circumstances that were unsafe because they did not have the practical supports necessary to live independently.

That is why I become concerned when disability supports are discussed primarily as a budget measure rather than as part of the broader systems that help keep people safe.

For many disabled women, supports are not simply services. They are part of what allows independence. They reduce isolation and facilitate access to healthcare, employment and community participation. In some cases, they make it possible to leave violence.

When those supports become unstable, the risks do not disappear. Dependence increases, isolation increases, poverty increases and carer stress increases. And for some women, vulnerability to coercive control and abuse increases.

One of the things I keep coming back to is that governments often speak about leaving violence as though it is a simple choice.

In reality, leaving requires housing, income, transport, legal assistance, childcare, disability support and often an enormous amount of practical help.

For a disabled woman caring for a child with disability, many of those barriers already exist before violence is even taken into account.

When support is reduced, the question is not whether those barriers disappear.

The question is whether they become even harder to overcome.

The conversation becomes even more complicated when children are involved.

One of the things I think policymakers often underestimate is how many disabled women are also mothers, including mothers caring for children with disability. When support systems fail, the consequences rarely affect only one person.

Throughout my work I have encountered situations where women with disability have experienced domestic and family violence while also caring for children with disability. In some cases, those children have communication difficulties, intellectual disability, autism or other conditions that make it difficult for them to clearly communicate what they are experiencing, disclose abuse or report harm.

When a mother is already managing her own disability, caring for a child with disability, navigating multiple service systems and recovering from violence, the expectation that she can simply access the Family Court and obtain the protections her children need often bears little resemblance to reality.

As a result, some women find themselves in impossible situations where they have serious concerns about the safety and wellbeing of their children but lack the financial resources, practical supports or legal assistance necessary to adequately challenge ongoing contact arrangements.

For children with disability, the risks can be even greater. A child who struggles to communicate, who has difficulty reporting harm, or who relies heavily on adults to interpret their experiences may be particularly vulnerable when exposed to unsafe people or environments.

This is where I think the conversation starts to fall apart.

Disability policy is discussed over here. Family violence policy is discussed over there. Child safety is discussed somewhere else entirely.

But families do not experience these issues separately.

The women and children living through these situations are dealing with all of them at the same time.

I also find myself wondering how these reforms are expected to interact with the housing crisis and Australia's broader efforts to reduce violence against women.

We know that one of the biggest barriers preventing women from leaving violent relationships is financial dependence and the lack of safe, affordable housing.

We also know that women with disability are more likely to experience poverty, lower workforce participation and financial insecurity than women without disability.

So what happens when a woman with disability loses support that allows her to work, participate in the community or maintain her independence?

What happens when supports for her child are reduced and she is required to take on even more unpaid caring responsibilities herself? And what happens when that woman is experiencing domestic and family violence but has no realistic pathway to financial independence, no affordable housing options and no practical means of leaving?

These are not hypothetical questions.

For many families, disability supports are part of what makes employment possible. They are part of what allows parents to maintain income, remain connected to their communities and avoid becoming completely dependent on others.

When those supports are reduced, the consequences extend far beyond the individual participant. They can affect the financial stability of entire households and increase dependence on partners, family members and informal carers.

At a time when governments are rightly acknowledging the role that financial abuse, economic dependence and housing insecurity play in domestic and family violence, I believe it is reasonable to ask whether sufficient consideration has been given to how disability reforms may interact with those same risk factors.

It is also important to acknowledge that disabled women are not a homogenous group and that some women face multiple layers of disadvantage at the same time. For First Nations women, women from culturally and linguistically diverse communities, women living in rural and regional Australia, and women experiencing poverty, the barriers to safety can be even greater.

Many already face challenges accessing healthcare, disability services, legal assistance, family violence supports, advocacy services and safe housing. In regional and remote communities, services may be limited or unavailable altogether. Women may be required to travel significant distances to access support, often at considerable personal and financial cost.

For some women from culturally and linguistically diverse communities, language barriers, visa concerns, social isolation or fear of engaging with government systems can create additional obstacles when seeking help.

First Nations women continue to experience disproportionately high rates of family violence and are often navigating the ongoing impacts of intergenerational trauma, racism, poverty and systemic disadvantage alongside disability.

When disability intersects with these realities, vulnerability can increase further and pathways to safety can become even more complex. What makes this even more difficult to understand is that none of these issues are new.

The Disability Royal Commission spent more than four years hearing evidence from thousands of disabled Australians, families, advocates, experts and service providers. It received almost 8,000 submissions and ultimately delivered 222 recommendations aimed at addressing violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation experienced by people with disability.

The Commission documented widespread safeguarding failures across multiple systems and heard repeated evidence about the greater vulnerability experienced by disabled women. Yet years later, many disabled people, advocates and frontline workers continue to raise concerns about the pace of implementation and whether the lessons of the Commission are genuinely shaping policy decisions.

As I update this article, Australia is once again mourning the deaths of more women and girls. Their names will join a list that continues to grow with alarming regularity, before public attention inevitably shifts to the next tragedy. Yet while we continue to ask why women cannot leave violent relationships, we too rarely ask whether our own policy decisions are making it harder for some women to do exactly that.

For disabled women, access to disability support is often access to independence, financial participation, community connection and, in some cases, the practical means of escaping violence. These conversations are not separate. Disability policy is women's safety policy. Which is precisely why the findings of the Disability Royal Commission should not sit on a shelf.

If governments are serious about preventing violence against women, then those findings must inform disability policy just as much as they inform conversations about women's safety.

Prime Minister, during a recent radio interview discussing calls for a Royal Commission into femicide, you asked: "What does a royal commission do besides fund lawyers?"

I keep coming back to that comment when I think about the Disability Royal Commission and the conversations currently taking place about disability reform.

Because if disabled people, women, survivors and families look at what has happened since the Disability Royal Commission delivered its final report, I think many would be forgiven for asking a similar question. Not because the evidence was unimportant, the stories were not worth hearing, or the violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation documented by the Commission were not real. Rather, it is because many people are still waiting to see meaningful change and are struggling to see how the lessons of the Commission are being reflected in current policy decisions.

That raises some important questions.

How many of the current NDIS reforms directly reflect the recommendations of the Disability Royal Commission?

How many were developed with those recommendations in mind?

And how many risk moving in the opposite direction?

If a Royal Commission identifies isolation, dependence, lack of advocacy, barriers to justice and inadequate safeguarding as factors that increase vulnerability to abuse, then surely reforms that may increase isolation, increase dependence or make support harder to access deserve careful scrutiny.

Australia has now spent years listening to survivors describe what happens when systems fail.

The Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse heard evidence about children who were not believed, who were unable to disclose abuse, or who remained trapped in environments where adults held significant power over them.

The Disability Royal Commission similarly heard extensive evidence about disabled people experiencing violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation while being dependent on others for care, support, housing or access to services.

Although the circumstances were different, many of the same themes emerged: dependence, isolation, unequal power relationships, barriers to advocacy and difficulties accessing justice.

One of the clearest lessons to emerge from these inquiries is that safeguarding cannot be separated from support. Independence, oversight, advocacy and access to services are often what help prevent abuse from occurring or escalating in the first place. That is why I believe Australians are entitled to ask some difficult questions.

What assessment has been undertaken regarding the impact of NDIS reforms on women with disability experiencing domestic and family violence?

How are these reforms being considered alongside Australia's broader commitments to reducing violence against women?

What safeguards are being introduced for women who may become increasingly dependent on partners, carers or family members if supports become harder to access?

How many of the Disability Royal Commission's recommendations are being actively implemented through these reforms?

And how many risk being undermined?

These questions are not being asked because disabled people oppose accountability. They are being asked because disabled people understand what happens when support systems fail. As both a disabled woman and someone working within the disability sector, I support reform that works.

What I am struggling to understand is how Australia can have a national conversation about ending violence against women while simultaneously treating disability policy as though it has little to do with women's safety.

If Australia is serious about reducing violence against women, then disabled women cannot continue to be an afterthought in these discussions. The consequences of getting this wrong will not be felt equally. They are likely to be felt most heavily by people who are already facing the greatest barriers to safety, support and justice: disabled women, disabled children, families carrying significant caring responsibilities, people living in poverty, people living in regional and remote Australia, First Nations communities and women from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds.

Those are the people who already have the fewest options when systems fail.

That is why these questions matter.

Because disability policy is never only about disability.

It is also about safety, independence, dignity and the ability to live free from violence.

Jessica Siles

Jessica Siles is a Social Worker, Behaviour Support Practitioner, disability provider and woman with disability. Throughout her career she has worked across disability, safeguarding, child protection and sexual violence services, supporting children, young people and families impacted by sexual violence, as well as young people involved in the youth justice system in relation to sexual offending. She has extensive experience working with people with disability and families navigating complex support systems and writes about disability, social policy, safeguarding, human rights, violence prevention and systems reform.

References

Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) 2021, Disability and Violence – In Focus: Crime and Justice Statistics, ABS, Canberra.

Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW) 2024, People with disability in Australia – Violence against people with disability, AIHW, Canberra.

Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability 2021, Alarming rates of family, domestic and sexual violence of women and girls with disability to be examined in hearing.

Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability 2023, Final Report.

Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability 2023, Royal Commission publishes Final Report with 222 recommendations.

Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse 2017, Final Report.

Australian Government Department of Health and Aged Care 2025, Implementing the recommendations of the Disability Royal Commission.