‘It’s not a question of enough, pal. It’s a zero‑sum game. Somebody wins and somebody loses.’ Gordon Gekko’s line in Wall Street captured the ethos of 1980s greed. Yet the mindset he embodies, that every gain must come at someone else’s expense, still lingers in public debate.
Australians sometimes hear arguments framed as if the nation is a fixed pie. Immigration is cast as ‘migrants versus jobs’. Gender equality becomes ‘women versus men’. Climate action is ‘jobs versus environment’. These frames don’t reflect the whole of politics – but they do shape how issues are discussed, and they risk narrowing our sense of what is possible.
The alternative is abundance: the belief that cooperation can expand opportunity, that prosperity can grow, and that fairness does not require someone else’s loss. Abundance is not extravagance. It is capability. It is about building systems that deliver more homes, more clean energy, more opportunity, and more shared growth.
Psychologists call the opposite tendency the ‘belief in a zero‑sum game’: the idea that if one person gains, another must inevitably lose. People who hold this view tend to distrust institutions, volunteer less and feel more pessimistic about society. Economists call it the ‘fixed pie’ bias.
Populists play on zero‑sum thinking, hoping to encourage conflict by arguing that minorities or elites are taking what rightfully belongs to others. In this year’s election campaign, Opposition Leader Peter Dutton said that every migrant is ‘competing against young Australians for that rental property or to purchase a home’ – ignoring the fact that plenty of new migrants find jobs building homes for Australians.
Australian survey data shows that zero-sum views are far from rare. Asked in a 2022 survey whether they agree with the statement ‘Women seek to gain power by getting control over men’, almost a quarter of respondents agreed. It’s the kind of world view that sees life as us-versus-them, and regards gender equity as a threat to men.
Why does this matter? Because it shapes how we approach big challenges. If jobs are fixed, migrants are a threat. If power is fixed, equality is a loss. If government is irredeemably captured, every reform looks futile. But if we see jobs, power and trust as expandable, then immigration, gender equality and institutional reform become positive‑sum projects.
Zero‑sum thinking is persistent. Harvard economist Stefanie Stantcheva and her co‑authors have shown that when young people grow up in hard times, they are more likely to see the world in zero‑sum terms. Conversely, people whose families have experienced upward economic mobility tend to believe in positive‑sum politics.
Scarcity, stagnation and exclusion encourage zero‑sum thinking. Growth, mobility and inclusion help to weaken zero‑sum views. The lesson is that abundance politics needs to be about more than policies. It must also foster confidence that progress can be shared.
Abundance politics means recognising that prosperity is not Monopoly, where one player wins and the rest go broke, but Lego, where everyone can build together. Housing is a good example. Scarcity politics says new homes threaten existing value. Abundance politics says more supply lowers rents, gives first‑home buyers hope and enriches communities.
On energy, scarcity politics pits jobs against the environment. Abundance politics sees renewables creating new industries, cleaner power and lower bills. Trade tells a similar story. Tariffs may protect a few, but they raise costs for consumers and stifle innovation. Lowering barriers expands the pie. And on inequality, abundance politics recognises that opportunity can be enlarged through education, fair workplaces and social mobility.
Australians are more likely to believe in abundance when they experience it in their own lives. When children do better than their parents, optimism grows. When newcomers succeed, communities see that immigration adds to the pie. When governments act fairly and visibly in the public interest, cynicism fades.
That requires leadership that is honest about disruption, while designing fair transitions. Our experience of trade reform in the 1980s showed how this can be done: through listening, adjustment support and practical engagement. Institutions and mindsets reinforce each other. Competent institutions build trust. Hopeful citizens support ambition. Together they create a virtuous circle that sustains reform.
Too often, debates are framed like a game of musical chairs, with the assumption that someone must miss out. Abundance politics asks us to add more chairs. Scarcity breeds suspicion and division. Abundance builds trust and ambition. Scarcity tells us to fight over a shrinking pie. Abundance invites us to bake a bigger one – and add extra chocolate chips while we’re at it.
Australia’s challenges in housing, energy and inequality demand that shift in mindset. When one of us rises, we can all rise. That is the politics of abundance. It takes competence, courage and optimism, but it is the surest way to meet the challenges of our time.