A diverse group of crossbench MPs and senators meet informally each Tuesday morning during parliamentary sitting weeks to coordinate logistics and share information. Unlike Labor, the Coalition or the Greens, these politicians do not belong to a unified party. Instead, they represent a wide ideological spectrum and a variety of electorates, ranging from affluent inner-city seats to large rural constituencies. Despite their differences, they cooperate pragmatically to manage parliamentary processes and maximise their effectiveness.
Attendees can include figures as ideologically varied as Fatima Payman, Andrew Gee, Lidia Thorpe and Barnaby Joyce, alongside community independents such as Allegra Spender, Monique Ryan, Sophie Scamps, Zali Steggall, Nicolette Boele and Kate Chaney, who represent wealthy electorates traditionally held by conservatives. Other crossbenchers include Jacqui Lambie, Bob Katter, David Pocock, Helen Haines and Rebekha Sharkie. Their shared meeting is less about political alignment and more about practical coordination.
A key organiser is Sharkie, who has served on the crossbench across four parliaments. She effectively performs some of the logistical functions of a party whip, coordinating speaking slots, questions in Question Time and opportunities for private members’ bills. As she explained: “Like all MPs, the cross bench has an allocated number of speaking spots, questions in Question Time, opportunities to introduce private member's bills and so on. I liaise with the major parties to ensure the crossbenchers have a fair proportion of time in the House of Representatives.”
The meeting also allows crossbenchers to avoid duplicating efforts, share expertise and collaborate on legislation or motions. Importantly, unlike members of formal political parties, none are bound by collective decisions. They remain free to vote according to their conscience or the views of their constituents. This independence is seen as their political “superpower”, according to Climate 200 convenor Simon Holmes Court, because it distinguishes them from party politicians who are expected to follow party lines.
Despite speculation about the emergence of a new centrist party, most independents strongly resist the idea of forming one. Their political success is closely tied to their identity as outsiders to the party system. Turning into a formal party would risk undermining that appeal and exposing them to media narratives about internal division.
Nonetheless, pressure to organise more formally may arise from new campaign finance laws introduced by the Albanese government. The legislation includes a $50,000 donation cap, but parties with multiple state branches can effectively receive up to $450,000 annually by collecting capped donations across different branches. Independents, lacking such structures, would remain limited to the single cap. Parties can also benefit from associated entities and investment funds that can provide additional financial support outside donation limits.
Critics argue these provisions favour established parties while disadvantaging independent candidates. Catherine Williams of the Centre for Public Integrity highlights further concerns, including generous spending caps for third-party campaigners that still allow wealthy donors to exert influence. For example, an individual donor could legally spend up to $1.6 million across various campaign channels in a year.
These reforms place independents in a difficult position. Forming a party might allow them to compete financially under the new rules, but doing so could compromise the independence that voters value. Remaining unaffiliated preserves their political identity but may significantly restrict their fundraising capacity. As a result, crossbenchers such as Kate Chaney and other community independents may soon face a strategic dilemma: protect their independence or adapt organisationally to survive within a funding system designed around political parties.