By Andrew Klein

March 26, 2026

Introduction: The Man Behind the Curtain

In the classic film, the Wizard of Oz is revealed to be a small, frightened man hiding behind a curtain, pulling levers, projecting a voice that is not his own. When Dorothy and her companions finally see him for what he is, he is not a powerful wizard. He is a fraud.

Anthony Albanese has spent his political career hiding behind a similar curtain. He has projected an image of a man of the people, a son of public housing, a fighter for the working class. But when the curtain is pulled back—when his actions are examined, his history traced, his choices weighed—a different figure emerges.

A man without a spine. A man who avoids transparency. A man who has spent his life seeking the approval of the powerful, hoping that proximity to wealth will make him wealthy, that standing next to the powerful will make him powerful.

This is the story of the Not-So-Wizard of Oz.

Part One: The Dog in White

On March 8, 2026, Anthony Albanese’s daughter announced her engagement. It was a moment of joy, a moment of celebration. And the Prime Minister chose to celebrate it by… posting a photograph of his dog, Toto, wearing a white bow tie and a sign that read “She said yes.”

The internet did not know what to do with this. Was it charming? Was it bizarre? Was it a man so incapable of showing emotion that he had outsourced his joy to a dog?

The critics had their say:

“Albanese’s dog announced his daughter’s engagement before he did. The man has been reduced to a canine press secretary.”

“First he couldn’t find a spine. Now he can’t find his own voice.”

“The dog wore white to the wedding. The Prime Minister wore nothing.”

It was a small thing. A photograph of a dog. But it was also a symbol. A man so uncomfortable with his own humanity that he let a pet speak for him.

Part Two: The Man Who Avoids Transparency

Albanese’s relationship with transparency has been, at best, complicated. At worst, it has been a study in avoidance.

In July 2025, the Centre for Public Integrity gave the Albanese government an “F” on its integrity report card, accusing it of being less transparent and accountable than the Morrison government. The government failed in its commitment to transparency by trying to tighten freedom of information laws, making it easier for public servants to refuse requests on the grounds that documents could “embarrass the government.” It stalled reforms to end “jobs for mates” culture. It failed to adequately protect whistleblowers.

The same report noted that MPs can sponsor passes for lobbyists, giving them unfettered access to restricted areas of Parliament—and that no major party MPs voluntarily disclosed who they sponsored .

This is not transparency. It is the opposite of transparency. It is the curtain that hides the wizard.

Part Three: The Little Boy Who Never Grew Up

Albanese has spent his political career seeking the approval of the powerful. It is a pattern that goes back to his earliest days in parliament, when he was known as a loyal foot soldier, a man who followed orders, a man who did not ask questions.

He has never broken that pattern. When Labor was in power, he was a minister who did not challenge his leader. When Labor was in opposition, he was a leader who did not challenge his party. And now that he is Prime Minister, he is a leader who does not challenge the forces that shape his government—the donors, the lobbyists, the corporations that fund his party’s campaigns.

He is the little boy who never grew up. Who never learned to stand on his own. Who has spent his life rubbing shoulders with the rich, hoping that their wealth would rub off on him.

Part Four: The Man Who Would Not Speak

The Gaza genocide is the clearest test of Albanese’s character. More than 50,000 Palestinians have been killed. The UN Commission of Inquiry has determined that Israel has committed and continues to commit genocide. The International Court of Justice has ruled that the occupation is unlawful.

And Anthony Albanese has said… almost nothing.

He has called for “de-escalation.” He has expressed “concern.” He has offered “thoughts and prayers.” He has done nothing that would cost him political capital, nothing that would upset the donors, nothing that would require him to take a stand.

When the protesters at Lakemba Mosque heckled him, he dismissed them as “a couple of people.” When the world demanded accountability, he offered silence.

This is not leadership. It is the absence of leadership. It is a man hiding behind a curtain, hoping that if he stays quiet long enough, the problem will go away.

Part Five: The Approval of the Powerful

Albanese’s relationship with power is transactional. He gives them access, and they give him support. He avoids transparency, and they reward him with donations. He stays silent on the issues that matter, and they promise to stay silent about his failures.

The Centre for Public Integrity report was clear: the government’s commitment to transparency has been “a failure.” MPs can sponsor passes for lobbyists. Freedom of information laws have been tightened. Whistleblowers have been left unprotected .

This is not governance. It is a deal. A deal between the man in power and the forces that keep him there.

Conclusion: The Curtain Falls

In the end, the Wizard of Oz was revealed to be a small, frightened man hiding behind a curtain. When Dorothy and her companions saw him for what he was, they did not need him anymore. They had already found what they were looking for—in themselves.

Anthony Albanese is a similar figure. A man who has spent his life hiding behind a curtain of words, of avoidance, of silence. A man who has projected an image of strength while being, in reality, a man without a spine.

The curtain is falling. The Australian people are beginning to see what he really is. And when they do, they will realize that they do not need him. They never did.