The Great Testosterone Test: Should Australian Politics Finally Go High-T? (A Satire)
America has done it again. US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth's modest proposal for annual testosterone screening of military personnel over thirty has lit the fuse on the most Australian political idea since someone suggested putting beetroot on a hamburger.
Naturally, Australia cannot simply copy the idea. We must improve it. We must make it bigger, more bureaucratic, and far more embarrassing.
Welcome to the National Political Vitality Assessment Program: mandatory hormone profiling for every federal politician, because nothing says "serious governance" like turning Question Time into a hormone-measuring contest with lab results.
Phase One: Voluntary Participation (With Strong Encouragement)
The Prime Minister would announce it with the usual solemnity: "Fellow Australians, in these challenging times, we must ensure our leaders are operating at peak biological capacity. This is not about judgment. This is about science."
The Coalition would treat it like a team-building exercise at a mining conference. Barnaby Joyce would demand his results include agricultural subsidies for red meat consumption. Taylor would simply stare into the camera and say "mate, I've got factory settings."
Labor would form a working group, release a 47-page discussion paper titled Testosterone and the Lived Experience of Labor Leadership, and insist the test be "intersectional." Anthony Albanese would probably claim his levels are "perfectly adequate, thanks to union-negotiated conditions."
The Greens would denounce testosterone itself as a "cis-heteronormative colonial hormone" and demand equal testing for oestrogen, dopamine, and moral superiority. They would offer to compare their cortisol levels instead, citing the stress of fighting capitalism.
One Nation would turn up in hi-vis, sleeves rolled up, and ask if they can use the results in campaign ads. Pauline Hanson would declare the test "rigged against real Australians" if her opponents scored higher. But they won't.
The Teals would hire private labs in Byron Bay for "more holistic" readings that include crystal vibrations and sea moss.
Phase Two: The Great Canberra Scorecard
Within days, leaks would flood the group chats. A backbencher from Queensland would be hailed as "High-T Hero" for levels that could power a coal plant. An inner-city progressive would be quietly nicknamed "Low-T Larry" and find himself suddenly interested in workplace flexibility and long service leave.
Betting markets would open on everything:
Highest reading in the House
Biggest drop after Question Time
Most likely to blame "the patriarchy" for his numbers
The ABC would run week-long specials: "Is High Testosterone Compatible with Modern Democracy?" Experts would solemnly warn that elevated levels correlate with "problematic" traits like decisiveness, boundary enforcement, and enjoying a steak without apology.
A Senate inquiry would be launched immediately. Witnesses would include a gender studies professor arguing that testosterone is a social construct, a urologist explaining basic male physiology, and a union rep demanding danger pay for politicians forced to confront their bloodwork.
The Deeper Truth Beneath the Satire
Here's the uncomfortable bit: voters aren't entirely wrong to wonder about the vitality of their leaders.
Too many politicians appear exhausted, risk-averse, performative, and strangely detached from the consequences of their decisions. They excel at moral preening and bureaucratic survival but often lack the raw courage, resilience, and unapologetic conviction that real leadership demands in hard times.
You cannot fix character with a blood test. But the visible decline in political testosterone, metaphorical and literal, tells us something important. Modern politics rewards caution, consensus, and media management over boldness and backbone. The result is a leadership class that feels... low-energy.
But seriously, Australia doesn't need politicians jacked up on synthetic hormones. It needs leaders with natural fire in the belly, the willingness to make tough calls, defend borders, balance budgets, and tell pressure groups "no" when required.
Until then, the satirical testosterone test remains the most honest proposal in Canberra for years. At least it would give us objective data on what we've long suspected:
Some of them really are running on empty. We knew that all along.
