It was reported on Tuesday that the NSW Government has made a submission to the Federal Senate enquiry on housing affordability.

Their argument? According to the report in the Australian Financial Review:

“NSW Treasury’s submission argues the CGT discount places upward pressure on house prices by increasing investor demand, exacerbating housing inequality and making it harder for first home buyers to enter the market.”

And some other data from the submission itself:

“Lending to investors [in NSW] was not that much larger than to first home buyers in 1994 but is now substantially higher, with lending to investors growing to $53 billion (972 per cent) compared to lending to first home buyers growing to $17 billion (392 per cent).”

The latter data is pretty stark, and highlights the growth of property investment and, indirectly, the reduction in the percentage of young people who are able to afford a home in NSW.

The data, directionally at least, is likely to be similar across the country.

Given the importance of housing affordability and the potential for tax changes, I thought I’d address both, here.

First to housing affordability.

It is axiomatic that anything which makes an activity less profitable (after tax) is likely to result in less of that activity.

So it’s likely that reducing the CGT discount (one suggestion supported by the Greens who are chairing the enquiry, as well as many other commentators and experts, and implied by the NSW Government submission) will make housing relatively less attractive as an investment option.

That would mean less competition among buyers, and less pressure on prices, improving affordability compared to the alternative of keeping the current discount in place.

By much?

No. In all likelihood only by a tiny amount.

Why? Well, remember that tax is paid on profits (in this case capital gains), and while it would reduce the after-tax profit, the activity itself would still generate gains for those investors (if there’s no gain, there’s no tax to pay, whatever the rate).

Sure, some might choose to invest elsewhere with a better after-tax return, but that cohort is probably small (the copper and office worker buying a negatively geared unit today are unlikely to all of a sudden start speculating on pork belly futures, instead).

Overall? It’d probably help affordability. A bit.

And that’s better than nothing, right? Yeah… if our sights are truly set that low.

Remember, housing affordability has plummeted (or housing unaffordability has skyrocketed) over the past forty years, using almost (probably every) available metric.

If prices came down (or the rate of increase slowed) by a few percentage points, that’d be welcome, but would be like the proverbial alcoholic who cut back from a bottle of whisky a day to 95% of a bottle instead – better, but not exactly fixing the problem.

So, what would actually make a difference?

I’ve written about it before, but the only way to make a real difference is to meaningfully – and quickly – address the supply/demand (im)balance.

In short, here’s the two line comparison:

– If there are 10 dwellings and 11 households, prices will rise, probably strongly.

– If there are 10 dwellings and 9 households, prices will fall, probably significantly.

The numbers aren’t that stark in reality… but that provides a directionally useful summary.

So the first step must be to meaningfully and quickly lower the rate of population growth. Not on any racial or other xenophobic grounds – both are despicable – just in numerical terms, overall.

That allows the (necessarily much slower, due to construction lead times) supply growth time to catch up.

I’d then address the one area of tax I think has a much bigger impact than CGT: negative gearing.

If I was a betting man, I’d give you good odds that somewhere north of 75% (and maybe over 90%!) of investment property purchases start with the simple question to the accountant: “How can I pay less tax?”.

Indeed, I’ve never heard anyone cite the CGT discount as the reason for investing in property, but countless who’ve cited negative gearing as a key reason they bought.

The other issue? Lending. Whenever rates drop, as they have recently, the borrowing power of potential buyers increases (the same repayment per month, at a lower interest rate, means they buyer can borrow more). Sounds good at the time, but what follows is that everyone does just that, and prices rise, leading to 30 years of higher repayments – at variable interest rates… and no improvement in affordability via lower interest rates.

A change in the rules enforced by the banking regulator, APRA, could stop that impact in its tracks.

And then, maybe, I’d rank CGT changes next, in terms of likely impact on affordability.

Maybe.

By all means, we can discuss it, but remember the proverbial alcoholic, and all of the things governments (and oppositions) are not doing, while they’re debating changing CGT.

Which is a lovely segue (you didn’t even notice, did you?), to the tax itself.

See, before you think ‘ah, Phillips is just feathering his own nest, by trying to argue against higher taxes on investments’, I’d go even further. Just not for ‘affordability’ reasons.

I’d return CGT to its pre-1999 regime of indexation, rather than the arbitrary 50% (or proposed 25%) discount.

Kids, sit back for a little (short) history.

Before 1985, capital gains were tax free. Great for investors, but it was a huge free kick for those with capital, compared to workers, who paid full-freight on their incomes. Yes, a reward for investing, but those who couldn’t or didn’t invest ran the risk of being left behind, and creating a widening wealth gap.

So, in 1985, the then-government introduced capital gains tax. But, because assets were usually held for a long time (compared to labour income, which was received concurrently with the work being done), the government realised that if general inflation led to asset prices increasing, taxpayers would essentially be taxed on that inflation when property or share prices rose.

To combat that, the investor was allowed to index the cost base of their asset before calculating the taxable gain. Okay, that’s a word salad; here’s what it looked like:

You bought $100 worth of shares, and sold them 5 years later for $150. Inflation over that time was 15%, in total, so rather than paying tax on a $50 gain ($150 – $100), you were allowed to index your cost base by inflation, meaning you paid tax on a $35 gain (the $100 cost became $115 for tax purposes, after accounting for inflation).

In that way, you were paying tax on the real (after-inflation) gain, not just the nominal one.

That’s how it worked for 14 years before, in 1999, the then-government decided to make it ‘simpler’.

From that point, any asset sold within a year of purchase would be taxed at the taxpayer’s marginal rate. And anything held for longer than a year wouldn’t have its cost base indexed, but instead would have only half of the gain taxed, with the other half being tax-free. Hence the ‘50% discount’ on capital gains we know today.

Is it simpler? Yep. Before 1999, the ATO used to publish tables so taxpayers could work out the indexation factors, and this change simply meant you either paid full-freight, or half of that rate, based on a simple date calculation.

Does that simplification justify the change? No, not really. Even less so now we have the internet (it was only a handful of years old in 1999) and the tools to do these things easily. Even at the time it was barely justifiable on those grounds, though. Did the simplicity justify giving up so much potential medium- and long-term tax revenue? No.

Frankly, it was almost certainly just vote-buying, with a veneer of ‘simplification’.

(And if you think I’m being political, I’m not. Every government, of every stripe, buys votes all the time. It happened to be the Liberal Party in 1999, and it was Labor with the student debt reduction at the last election. I’m an equal-opportunity critic!)

Okay, so how do the different potential tax treatments – the current 50% discount, the original indexation approach, and the mooted 25% discount – impact investors?

The short answer is ‘it depends’.

On? On the interplay between inflation and asset price growth.

In a world where growth is high, but inflation is low, the 50% discount is far more generous than indexation. Why? Because inflation doesn’t catch up to the size of the discount.

In a world where growth is lower and inflation is higher, the 50% discount still wins, but not by as much.

And the mooted 25% discount? In the first scenario, the 25% discount is still more generous than indexation.

But, in the latter (lower growth, higher inflation), a 25% discount might actually be less generous than indexation – meaning investors would be worse off than under the old pre-1999 rules!

And essentially, those investors could end up paying tax on inflation.

So let’s sum it all up.

The tool being considered (reducing the 50% CGT discount to 25%) is likely not one of the top 3 or 4 tools you’d use if you wanted to address housing affordability.

And the tool being considered likely will have little impact (and probably no material impact at all) on housing affordability.

And the tool being considered may, depending on the interplay of inflation and price growth, actually end up being worse than simply indexing the cost base in the first place.

(By the way: there are some who just want to pay less tax, who’ll complain about investment moving offshore, or people not investing at all, or something else. I’ll call poppycock. In some edge cases, that might be true. It’s not even close to being impactful, overall, either on investments being made or tax being collected, in my view. They’re talking their own book, which they’re entitled to do, but they should at least just be honest about it. There are solid policy reasons to revert the 50% discount back to indexation.)

It’s tempting to think CGT is at the heart of worsening affordability: the change in treatment did roughly coincide with house price increases. And that’s why some have latched onto it. But similar increases happened right around the world at a similar time, as you’ll see from the chart below. Correlation, as the boffins would tell us, is not causation.

Source: ChatGPT-created chart using the BIS “Selected residential property prices” dataset

Our policy ambition is so low, these days, that most people will read what I’ve written and think ‘well, something is better than nothing, right?’.

And I’d be tempted to agree, except that like all other ‘housing affordability’ measures, the greatest impact is the perception that something is being done, meaning we stop trying to actually address the issue using more effective tools (and the token ‘help’ often makes things worse).

Some arguing for this change are driven by ideology. Some are against it for the same reason. Others are genuinely trying to help.

I’d suggest they’re unfortunately looking in the wrong direction, and whether or not CGT is changed, the situation will probably keep getting worse unless and until our policymakers start with evidence and work from there.

Fool on!

You’ve heard from me a little more regularly in this space over the past couple of weeks than in the couple of months before that.

In part, that’s a quasi-New Year’s Resolution to write more.

In part, that’s because the events and occasions (New Year, Buffett’s retirement and more) have provided some welcome stimulus.

But mostly, I think it’s not because I’ve had more ‘time’ per se, but rather more ‘space’.

Indeed, the first couple of columns of the year were written in the early mornings on holidays, when my young bloke was asleep: I had some thoughts and some opportunity, so I grabbed both.

This week I’m back on deck, but the momentum and opportunity has continued.

The opportunity has come in two ways, related to the ‘space’ I mentioned earlier.

Yes, there’s meaningfully less company news to deal with. Fewer ASX announcements. No data from the ABS.

The newspapers are thinner (or, if you prefer, there are fewer new stories on their websites).

But also, and related, that’s meant more mental space, too.

More time for independent and undirected thought.

More time thinking about the ‘important’ rather than the ‘urgent’.

Now look, at The Motley Fool, we’ve always been long-term investors. We do our best to eschew short-term thinking and tune out the noise.

So the idea itself isn’t new.

But even then, I’ve found myself with more ‘clear air’ than normal, and it was noticeable in the sorts of things I found myself focussing on.

I will say – perhaps disappointingly, sorry – that there were no blinding flashes of new insight.

I haven’t discovered the secret of nuclear fusion, nor have I invented a brand new way to get rich overnight.

But what I did find myself dwelling on were the more important fundamental aspects of investing and economics.

I’ve already written this week about the folly of predictions, and the interaction of supply and demand when it comes to housing.

On Twitter, I’ve engaged in a fascinating conversation about the impact of investors, and the extent to which their marginal additional demand impacts house prices, including with smart people who disagree with me.

I’ve thought a lot about pricing power – but in a slightly different way: the pricing power that isn’t used.

Costco Wholesale Corp (NASDAQ: COST), in the US, is derided by some as ‘the world’s largest co-op’: a criticism that points to the critics’ belief that the company charges too little for its products and should increase prices to boost margins.

And yet, the company, by sticking to its guns – and its business model – has grown its profit from US$5 billion in 2021 to over US$8 billion last year. Not bad for a ‘co-op’!

Contrast that with Woolworths Group Ltd (ASX: WOW) here in Australia, which is adding friction and annoyance to members of its ‘Delivery Unlimited’ program by adding a $2 surcharge to deliveries made on Sundays and Public Holidays.

Justified? Sure, financially, based on the company’s higher costs. But it doesn’t charge more for groceries on Sundays, so this feels jarring.

In either event, I’m sure the reported financials will look a little better after the surcharge is added. And that’ll look like a win.

But in the long term? Let’s just say that if I was looking to maximise long term shareholder value (the job of every CEO and Director), I wouldn’t be poking customers who are paying to increase their own loyalty (if you’re paying a subscription for free delivery, you’re not likely to buy your groceries somewhere else).

And that might be the best example of what’s been on my mind most over the past few weeks: the trade-offs between the short- and long-term.

Whether it’s housing policy (or politics in general)…

Whether it’s profit maximisation…

Whether it’s the lure of predictions…

Whether it’s trying to grow our portfolios…

… the short term is just so incredibly seductive.

We get to see results more quickly.

There’s less uncertainty.

It feels like we have more control.

And yet, the real rewards come over time.

I mentioned Costco’s impressive recent results.

What’s more impressive is that the US$8b the company earned last year is eight times the earnings of 20 years earlier.

And the share price? It closed 2005 at around US$50 a piece. At the end of last year, it was US$862.

Again, these aren’t new insights for me. And I hope not for you, either.

But as the news cycle picks up, and then we hit ‘earnings season’ in February, I want you to keep the lessons of the last couple of weeks in mind.

When the temptation is to react to the latest news and announcements, I want you to imagine how many pieces of news were written about, and how many announcements were released by, Costco over the last 20 years.

Think about the times when the company’s profits weren’t quite what the market expected.

When the share price fell.

When analysts changed their ‘12 month price targets’.

The breathless reporting and the hand-wringing.

The obsession over the latest quarter’s sales growth or this year’s profit margins.

As I think of all that, I can’t help but shake my head and smile, wryly, at the futility of so much of it.

All of that – as Shakespeare famously wrote – sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Don’t get me wrong: sales and profits matter. Of course they do.

So does the growth in those metrics.

The price you pay absolutely matters, too.

But the question for investors – proper investors, who know that compounding’s magic not-so-secret is time – is what those things look like in 5, 10 and 20 years.

Feels hard, right? 20 years… who can wait that long?

Me. And you, I hope.

Because there’s no short cut. There’s no get-rich-quick alternative.

There is only quality. And time.

Can I put it bluntly? I think (almost) everything else is wishful thinking and/or wilful ignorance.

Almost? Sure, someone, somewhere, might be able to make a buck guessing short term share price movements. I can’t exclude that possibility, so I can’t make absolute statements.

But is it likely for them?

Is it likely for you and me?

Not even a little bit.

Luck might take you some of the way. For a time.

For the rest of us, buying quality companies at good prices is the best approach, I reckon.

That, and tuning out the noise.

It worked for Buffett. It worked for Costco (not coincidentally, Buffett’s late business partner Charlie Munger was a long-time director of that company!).

I think it is likely to work for us, too.

Fool on!

Sometimes, I have a single, big idea to write about in this space.

Other times, it’s a couple of smaller ones – or big ideas that I write about briefly.

Today, I want to do the latter: share with you my thoughts about a couple of slightly related topics, which I hope will be interesting and useful.

—

The first is ‘predictions’. Hopefully topical, given the time of year, when newspapers, starved of news, turn to ‘experts’ to tell the rest of us what the next 12 months will bring.

They are, as I hope you’ve read from me before, useless.

Because here’s the thing: there are two possible outcomes:

Either the things everyone expects actually come to pass, in which case the ‘predictions’ are useless because everyone expected them anyway.

Or things happen that no-one expected, and the expert crystal-ball gazers say ‘Well, no-one could have seen that coming’!

I hope the irony is clear.

Even those who are right, once or twice, tend to be wrong more often.

So why do we listen?

Because we’re human.

Because we crave certainty and, if we can’t get it, we’ll happily (if usually subconsciously) accept a prediction instead. Anything to fill the void of uncertainty.

Worried the market might fall in 2026? Understandable.

Think it might rise in 2026? Understandable.

Know which one it’ll be? Me neither.

Instead?

Instead, I try to think in probabilities. And in timeframes that matter.

I think it’s probable that the market is higher in a decade. (I have no idea what it’ll do this year.)

I think it’s probable that high-quality, successful businesses will thrive over that time (though some won’t).

I think it’s probable that paying good (but not necessarily great) prices will mean the success of those businesses will make it more likely that shareholders will benefit from that success.

That’s how I invest. With not a prediction in sight.

—

Second, I want to just share some short thoughts on house prices. Or, more accurately, the influences on prices.

There are two, related, forces predominantly driving them.

The first is, unsurprisingly, interest rates.

The second, is the balance of supply and demand.

On the former, the simplest explanation is the question ‘How much can I borrow?’

At a given level of income, the bank will decide you can afford to repay ‘X’.

At a lower interest rate, a monthly payment of ‘X’ will mean you can borrow more, and therefore pay more for housing.

At a higher rate, you can borrow – and pay – less.

On the latter, it’s pretty simple:

If there are 10 houses and 11 buyers, prices will tend to rise.

If there are 10 houses and 9 buyers, prices will tend to fall.

Now those are tendencies, not guarantees, but that’s the broad market reality.

Cutting rates likely pushes prices up.

Adding to population likely does, too.

So do things like first homebuyer grants and deposit guarantees, and the like.

On the flip side, reducing population growth / adding to supply puts downward pressure on prices.

As does rising interest rates.

There are other long-term considerations like actual or potential tax changes, but assuming those remain stable, the two influences, above, drive prices.

Investor activity is also a component, but that’s largely a subset of those two forces, too.

So what?

Well, that’s probably for another article. And there are some policy changes that are definitely overdue, in my opinion.

But for now, it’s enough just to highlight how and why prices might change in 2026 and beyond, and some of the levers policy-makers might seek to use if they ever got serious about improving housing affordability, rather than just talking about it and doing things that make it worse!

Fool on!

Well, we woke up yesterday to a new, blank page on the calendar.

We do every morning, of course, but due to the way we organise our measurement and acknowledgement of time, this page comes with an updated year.

I’ve written before about the arbitrary nature of our 365-day calendar, and also the understandable – but often unhelpful – nature of measuring things over that sort of timeframe.

To our ancestors, and to the primary producers today, an understanding of seasonal cycles is vital, of course.

But for the rest of us, using one year as the benchmark for anything is a little… quaint, if not harmful.

Especially in investing.

Why is 365 days the right yardstick for measuring investment performance? What natural law do we expect share prices to follow, just because we’ve returned to the same place in our solar orbit?

(By the way, many people reading will be trying to justify that reality with a range of different arguments, but I suspect almost all of them will be a version of simply defending the status quo, because that’s what we’re used to, and comfortable with. Humans really don’t like our preconceptions challenged, or our worldviews shaken.)

I mean, if you’re investing in an agricultural company, maybe you can justify using the seasonal calendar to assess the business. But then, as we all know, the vagaries of weather (even putting aside long term climate changes) mean that year-to-year profitability can rely more on changes in rainfall than how the business is run.

And even if we could adjust for those things, that’s the company itself. Overlay that with share price movements – in the short term impacted more by sentiment than business fundamentals – and we’re back to shaking our heads at the arbitrariness of the solar calendar.

Instead, each of us should be making new investments, and assessing our current investments, by asking over what timeframe we can reasonably expect to assess success.

Is BHP Group Ltd (ASX: BHP) really going to be a meaningfully different company in 12 months? Is Woolworths Group Ltd (ASX: WOW)? Commonwealth Bank of Australia (ASX: CBA)?

And even if it is, should we really expect the market to perfectly reflect those changes in the companies’ share prices?

I hope you’ll agree the answer is a resounding ‘no’.

The same goes for the stock market as a whole.

So, a reminder of Ben Graham’s lesson to the (newly-retired, as of yesterday morning) Warren Buffett:

In the short term, the market is a voting machine, measuring sentiments like greed, fear, excitement, despondency, hype and hopelessness.

In the long term, the market is a weighing machine, tending to give full value to the underpinnings of the businesses themselves: their ability to attract customers, retain customers, and do so at prices that allow them to keep some of the proceeds for the benefit of shareholders.

It’s why ‘12 month price targets’ are complete nonsense. No-one knows what other investors and traders will think in a year’s time.

Back in April of 2024, did investors expect ‘Liberation Day’ tariffs to hit markets for six one year later, with the biggest daily fall since COVID?

Of course not.

And yet, our desire for some degree of certainty leads us to ignore the repeated past failings of short-term prognostication, and to hope – despite evidence to the contrary! – that maybe this time they’ll get it right.

So let me be crystal clear: I don’t know the future. Nor does anyone else.

And anyone who thinks they do is either lying to you, or to themselves, or both. And probably because they’re caught up in their own ego and hubris.

Instead, they’d be well advised to understand that some things are unknowable, and to make their peace with that.

My view?

The shorter the time period, the more likely that the share price is driven by feelings.

The longer the time period, the more likely that the share price is driven by business quality and prospects.

But back to the calendar. One of the features of a new year is the phenomenon of the New Year’s Resolution.

There’s no real difference between setting a goal on September 17, compared to January 1, other than that we are drawn to the fresh start. The clean page. The opportunity and possibility to begin anew.

And while I’m not generally a resolutions guy, I’m not going to pooh-pooh that idea, if it gives people a little extra impetus to reset and recommit to their goals.

(It occurs to me that the beginning of Spring might be a more appropriate time for new beginnings, but I’m probably not going to change decades of tradition!)

And so, in the spirit of resolutions – albeit not fresh ones – I’m going to do something I try otherwise not to do, and re-use some stuff I’ve posted here before, because it’s been reviewed and refined to something I think is a pretty good standard.

Years ago I wrote some New Year’s Resolutions that I hoped would be helpful for members of Motley Fool Share Advisor, the investment service I run. Soon after, some of the Motley Fool team helped me improve them, and they’ve stayed the same ever since.

You won’t find any blinding flashes of insight, here: there is no magic formula for getting rich quick.

Believe it or not, that’s good news. Because it means almost anyone can follow them, as long as you earn at least a modest wage.

The other thing? You might have to make some sacrifices, but the value of long-term compounding will almost certainly pay you back in spades.

And so, here are our 13 Foolish New Year’s Resolutions:

13 Foolish New Year’s Resolutions

1. I will live below my means — spending less than I earn.

2. I will save money into a rainy-day fund so I’m ready for what life might bring.

3. I will pay off my credit card debt, and then only spend what I can pay off within the interest free period each month.

4. I will regularly add to my investment account.

5. I will invest money I don’t need for at least 3-5 years to build my nest egg.

6. I will learn more about investing, taking control of my financial future.

7. I will invest in quality businesses, remembering that I’m buying a slice of the company, not just a code on a screen.

8. I will buy shares in a company with the intention of holding them for the long term.

9. I will sell when my investment thesis fails, the company is overvalued or I have a better idea.

10. I will avoid anchoring my decisions to the price I paid for my shares.

11. I will remember that the market can be moody and over-react, both on the upside and the downside.

12. I will expect volatility, and I won’t let it spook me into selling. Indeed, volatility can offer me great opportunities!

13. I will let the market offer me prices (be my servant), not dictate my mood or actions (be my master).

(Want a printable version? I’m glad you asked. Here it is!)

From all of us at The Motley Fool, we hope you have a wonderful, prosperous and safe 2026.

Fool on!

I had to make a decision, about what to write about, here.

I chose New Year’s Resolutions, because I hope they might help even just one or two of our readers get 2026 off to a good start, financially.

The other choice? Marking Warren Buffett’s departure from the corner office at Berkshire Hathaway Inc (NYSE: BRK.A) (NYSE: BRK.B) (I own shares).

He will remain Chairman of the company’s board, but the 95-year old has decided that after six decades in charge, he’ll no longer be the CEO.

And fair enough.

In his characteristically humble way, he recently wrote that he would step down because he wasn’t as sharp as he used to be, and because he believed his anointed successor, Greg Abel, would do a better job.

I hope that if you’ve been reading these notes for any length of time, the name ‘Buffett’ is a familiar one.

But just in case you’re not, Warren Buffett is the investing GOAT – the ‘Greatest Of All Time’.

He ran Berkshire Hathaway for 60 years, turning a struggling New England textile mill into his personal investing canvas – and delivered some astonishing returns for himself and for the company’s shareholders.

How good?

When he took over, Berkshire shares were changing hands for US$19 each.

Now? Well, they finished 2025 at US$754,800.

No. That’s not a typo.

More than three-quarters of a million dollars, each.

And he’s retiring, undefeated.

For sixty years, Buffett compounded the company’s value by around 20% per annum, on average.

That is simply astonishing.

(‘Astonishing’ is a dramatic understatement, of course, but I don’t know what string of superlatives could do a better job than the numbers themselves!).

More than that, though, Buffett spent those 60 years as a teacher. He and his late business partner Charlie Munger freely and happily dispensed their investing wisdom, inviting others to invest the same way.

They didn’t hide their expertise, or pretend there was some black box. Other than questions about what Berkshire was buying or selling, any topic was fair game, and they answered question after question from shareholders at the company’s annual meeting each year, while writing plenty and giving regular media interviews.

Buffett could rightly have lorded his success over everyone. He could have taken a massive cut of the company’s performance as a ‘performance fee’, and no-one would have considered it unreasonable, given his astonishing run.

Instead?

He lives in the same house he bought decades ago. He took a $100,000 salary (only!) and insisted on paying the company back for any and all use of company assets.

Instead of seeking glory and adulation, he is giving 99% of his wealth to charity and wrote his last letter to shareholders about, of all things, kindness.

Oh he’s plenty human. He’s made mistakes, personally and professionally. He would be – he is – the first to mention that.

In his last letter, he wrote:

“One perhaps self-serving observation. I’m happy to say I feel better about the second half of my life than the first. My advice: Don’t beat yourself up over past mistakes – learn at least a little from them and move on. It is never too late to improve. Get the right heroes and copy them.”

And again, perhaps fittingly, his executive career at Berkshire ended not with a bang, but a whimper.

I don’t know what happened in the office at Kiewit Plaza, Omaha, on December 31, but there was no external fanfare, no press release, no grand gestures.

I suspect he just shook some hands, had a Coca-Cola (his drink of choice), and left the building.

On a personal level, I have Buffett and The Motley Fool to thank for my professional trajectory – and my personal investing approach.

I found The Oracle of Omaha through my early reading of The Motley Fool’s then US-only website, and his teachings and example have shaped my investing approach.

Don’t get me wrong: I have no delusions of grandeur. There is only, and will only ever be, one Warren Buffett. But we can learn from his words and actions, and aim to improve our investing, accordingly.

Berkshire will not be the same without Buffett at the executive helm. Nor will the investing world.

He was the man we turned to for reassurance and reminders of the right way to invest when things got tough.

He was the man companies and governments turned to, too, in times of crisis.

He’s not gone yet, of course, but he has said will be “going quiet”.

His record will likely never be eclipsed, and his example will similarly hard to match, in words, deeds and actions.

We have been lucky to be the recipients of his wisdom and public counsel over his time at Berkshire.

And what should investors take away from that immense body of work?

A few things:

– The value of long-term investing. It works.

– The concept of a company’s ‘moat’: the sustainable competitive advantage that allows it to survive and thrive.

– The idea of having a ‘circle of competence’ – the things that you know that you know.

– How to think about that circle: it’s not the size that counts, it’s knowing where the edges are.

– Thinking independently: being fearful when others are greedy, and greedy when they’re fearful

– Buffett’s popularisation of Ben Graham’s concept of ‘Mr. Market’ – the volatile business partner whose moods you should take advantage of, but whose counsel you should never seek, nor accept.

– The importance of seeing shares as pieces of real businesses, not just digital trading cards.

– The idea of ‘intrinsic value’ – that a company’s shares are worth the value you calculate for them, not just what the market is offering them for on a given day

-The importance of management quality: if they’re smart, hard working but lack integrity, you’re on a hiding to nothing

– ‘The three most important words in investing: Margin of safety’: making sure you allow room for error

… and a whole lot more!

Each of those ideas deserves its own article, of course, but hopefully it’ll be a reminder of how Buffett invests, and gives you some touchstones to take into 2026 and beyond, courtesy of the investing GOAT.

Well done, Uncle Warren. We thank you and salute you.

Fool on!

It’s that strange, yet familiar, time of year when most of us really aren’t sure what day it is.

And much to the chagrin of many of us, we don’t even have an ongoing Test match to both remind and occupy us.

The Christmas leftovers have all-but disappeared, but we’re not yet ready to go back to work.

Santa has come and gone, but it’s still 2025… we think.

It’s the time of ‘best/worst/highlights/lowlights of 2025’ in the papers, as they desperately try to bulk out what is otherwise a slow news week.

Even the ASX is the digital equivalent of an empty shell, with only a few traders rattling around, and most company secretaries off on leave.

(That doesn’t mean none are around, and we should be vigilant for those companies who seek to drop bad news when no-one is paying attention!)

No, I’m not going to do a ‘2025 in review’. We did one last weekend on the Motley Fool Money podcast, and that was enough.

No, I’m not going to do predictions for 2026. (We similarly have an upcoming podcast episode devoted to that, too, but with our tongues firmly in our cheeks.)

Instead, I’m going to hold up a mirror, of sorts.

If you’re feeling the strain of a forced ASX detox, with the market closed for four straight days, that might be a sign, of sorts.

Not a criticism, necessarily…

But it might tell you a little about how you approach your investing.

Look, I’m not going to give you grief for being human. We’re wired to notice things, to want more information, and to react to stimuli.

And when I say ‘wired’, I mean it. Our evolutionary path made good use of those instincts, without which our descendants likely wouldn’t have survived to create the line of humans that resulted in us.

So not only is it normal and natural, it’s been a superpower for thousands of years. Our predecessors were literally the best of the best when it came to those instincts that are at the foundation of how we interact with the world.

Which is why, for many of us, investing is so bloody hard!

Investing well requires us to switch off (or at least quieten down) some of the most important parts of our biology.

Take, for example, the fight or flight response.

Natural, when danger is present. More than that, it’s vital when life or death situations present themselves.

But for investors, both can be harmful. Instead, we need to understand the potential risk, acknowledge the innate drive to either run like hell or stand and fight… and do neither.

The acknowledgement is necessary, though, because it’s the only way we can reasonably address it.

“I’m feeling some serious panic, emotional pain and/or stress right now” is not only natural, it’s healthy.

And like the sinner, it’s not the temptation that condemns us, but the sin.

The same applies to investors: Feeling those things isn’t a problem, but letting them overwhelm your decision-making can be seriously harmful to your wealth.

Which takes me back to this week, when the market is closed as often as it is open, and not much happens when it is!

The human brain is wired to want more input; more information. Studies have famously shown that humans are more confident when we have more data but, past a given point, no more accurate.

That is, more data doesn’t make us any more ‘right’, but it sure as hell makes us more likely to think we are!

Again, that’s just evolution, so no judgement from me.

But it’s why I’ve weaned myself off checking my portfolio every five minutes. Watching share prices gyrate is easy to do, and can be kinda hypnotic.

One cent up, here. Two cents down there.

Now what? How about now?

It’s no wonder that, as kids, we routinely (and repeatedly, to our parents’ distraction) asked ‘Are we there yet?’.

Are you recognising yourself in this article?

If so, good.

If not, maybe you’re superhuman… otherwise, maybe it’s time to have another look in the mirror?

Because I’m not here to condemn you. But hubris might.

They say the first step to dealing with a problem is admitting you have one.

So… I’m admitting I have a problem.

I’m drawn to action over inaction. I’m drawn to the ‘need to know’, even if the data isn’t helpful… or is actively unhelpful.

I’m tempted to read those stupid ‘forecast’ articles that proliferate, even though no-one has a crystal ball.

And I know I’m not going to be able to escape the presence of those temptations.

What I have learned to do is to ignore them… or at least minimise their impact.

And that’s what I hope you can learn to do, too.

See, while the ASX was closed on the last couple of public holidays, businesses kept doing their things.

Just as they do every weekend. And before 10am and after 4pm weekdays, even though the market is closed.

Because a business is more than its share price. Far, far more.

But even that is an incomplete picture.

The last few days matter, a little, when it comes to this year’s sales and profit numbers.

A very little.

And those sales and profit numbers matter, a little, when it comes to the value of a company.

What matters far more?

The future.

Even if I have every known and knowable datapoint at my fingertips…

Even if I slavishly hit ‘refresh’ on my portfolio dozens of times a day…

Even if I read every single ASX release available…

Even then, the only thing that counts, over the long term, is the performance of the business whose shares I own.

CSL Ltd (ASX: CSL) shares sold for less than $5 each in late 1999. They’re now around $175.

Commonwealth Bank of Australia (ASX: CBA) went from under $24 to over $160.

Woolworths Group Ltd (ASX: WOW) from under $5 to almost $30.

Why?

In each case, because the business became more dominant, more successful, and more valuable.

Of course, selective data points along the journey might have told you that each was continuing to thrive, and sometimes dive.

But I hope it’s obvious that it was far more important – and profitable – to get the big, long-term picture right, rather than obsess over whether the share price of each had moved up or down 0.5% on a given trading day.

And lest you think I’m only picking winners, the same observations could be made of AMP Ltd (ASX: AMP), whose shares fell from over $13 to under $2 in the same timeframe.

What mattered?

Not the second-by-second volatility in share prices.

Not the breathless reporting and predictions.

But rather, the performance of those companies, over the long term.

(The price you paid – or didn’t pay – mattered a little, but far less than the performance of the companies themselves.)

So, if you are suffering from a little unwanted ASX detox, can I suggest switching from the stock market equivalent of two cans of Red Bull to maybe something just a little less chemically-enhanced.

Maybe you’re not ready for herbal tea, just yet, but perhaps a coffee might replace the Red Bull, then a tea might replace the coffee, in time.

For investors, that’s paying less attention to the noise – the share price movements, articles, forecasts and (false) promises of quick riches – and more to the signal.

And what is the right ‘signal’ for investors?

Swap out the brokerage screen for an annual report or two. Spend time thinking about the company, not the price.

Focus on what and where the company might be in 3, 5 and 10 years’ time.

What is its business model? Is it growing? Does it have a competitive advantage? How sustainable is that advantage? Will that lead to higher profits, not just tomorrow, or next year, but in 5- and 10-years’ time?

Then when you do think about the price, don’t worry about whether it’s up or down. Instead ask yourself if it’s a reasonable price to pay, given the future you expect.

Not quite as exciting, is it?

That’s okay, the share market shouldn’t be exciting, if you’re doing it right.

Get your adrenaline shot somewhere else. Save the stock market for making money, instead.

In the meantime, enjoy the leftovers and not knowing what day it is.

And cross your fingers that the SCG Test lasts longer than an influencer’s Instagram story.

Fool on!

The countdown is on.

Soon – once the kids are in bed – the jolly fat man will start his worldwide ride.

My son has regularly reminded me this morning of how many hours there are until Christmas Day.

The carols are on in our house (I shop online almost exclusively, so the shopping centre muzak hasn’t ruined that for me).

Tonight, our family will sit down and watch Carols by Candlelight together… after coming home from a Christmas Eve screening of Die Hard at our local cinema.

(Yes. It is. Case closed. IYKYK)*

The only thing I can’t abide (much to the chagrin of some of my colleagues) is Mariah on repeat.

And yet, even that, plus all of the other things, tell us that it’s Christmas time.

It is, as the song goes, the most wonderful time of the year.

Sure, a little more wonderful in 2025 given we’ve already wrapped up The Ashes, but it’s wonderful every year.

The thing is, it’s not wonderful, by itself. There’s nothing magical about the date, or the time of year (singing ‘White Christmas’ in summer tells us a much!).

For some, it’s magical because of what it represents, religiously.

For most, these days, it’s because of what Christmas represents, more secularly.

It’s a generally warm, lazy time of year. The kids are off school, work tends to wind down a little (and a lot of us head off on holidays), the days are longer, the newspapers get thinner, and we make time to see family and friends.

Now, I’m not going to pretend to be an expert on what Christmas means to different people, but I reckon ‘peace and goodwill’ is pretty high on the list, even if we don’t consciously use those words.

We find time to see people. We wish a Merry Christmas to friends and strangers alike, and we smile more, even through the shopping crush.

It’s all voluntary (except the muzak!) of course – but in that lies its beauty.

Whether you’re religious or not, there is something communal about Christmas that we can all choose to share in, and the vast, vast bulk of us do.

You know by now that I’m an inveterate optimist. I was just born and raised that way, but I also think it’s – despite the world’s imperfections – the best way to be, because optimists win. Why? Because things get better, over time.

And because people are overwhelmingly good, and true, and positive. Because we are social animals who value community, and who want the best for others.

Everyone? No. All the time? No.

But overwhelmingly, and almost all the time. It brings out our best, and for a time, reminds us of how much better we can be.

I am conscious that I write those words after a horrific terror attack at Bondi Beach. It was an atrocity committed as an act of hatred against people simply because of their religion and culture. And one that happened at one of Australia’s most iconic places.

It was an attack directly on Jewish Australians, and indirectly on all of us who value the things I just mentioned.

Their friends and families will be in all of our thoughts as we sit around our tables, this Christmas. May their memories be a blessing.

I’m also mindful that Christmas has its modern origins in Christianity, as I mentioned above, and that other religions either don’t recognise it, or have their own celebrations at this time of year.

I hope and believe that modern Australia has room for those differences, observed peacefully and with the goodwill I mentioned.

Indeed, from experience, those of different faiths are usually more than happy to engage in what we know as the Christmas spirit, even if the observance of the event itself is different for them.

Because, as I said, Christmas is now as much a time of year, and a mindset, as it is a religious observance.

And, as I do each year, I want to specifically mention two groups. First, those who will do it tough this Christmas. Perhaps you’ll be spending Christmas alone, or you’ll have an empty chair at your table, having lost someone this year. I hope Christmas isn’t too hard for you, and that your memories and interactions with others will carry you through.

And to those working this Christmas, so we can take some time off, thank you. Particularly to those who will be away from family, including our defence forces. To those who will be keeping us safe in the emergency services and health system. And to those who are keeping the country’s wheels turning: essential services, retail and lots more. Thank you.

And so, whatever your faith, creed, or traditions at this time of year, the whole team here at The Motley Fool wishes you a very Merry Christmas. We hope you find peace and joy.

Oh, you expected something investing-related? It’s Christmas! Normal service will resume soon.

I will leave you, though, with another Motley Fool Australia tradition: our Foolish Christmas Carol… somewhere between a cringey Dad Joke and a lighthearted way to say thanks, and share an investing idea or two.

Enjoy! (Or just stop reading now. It’s on you if you keep scrolling though!)

Frosty The (Investing) Snowman

Frosty the snowman was a kind investing soul

With portfolio full of well-picked stocks

His snowball was on a roll

Long term investing’s not a fairy tale they say

Build it strong and slow ‘cos the children know

You won’t make it in a day

There must have been some magic in

That jester’s cap they found

For when they placed it on his head

Buffett quotes they did abound

Frosty the snowman was relaxed as he could be

And the children say the course he could stay

Though the volatility

Frosty the snowman knew that stocks get hot some day

So he said don’t run losing cash ain’t fun

If it’s hype just stay away

Down to the village with a checklist in his hand

Looking here and there all around the square

For ideas to add as planned

He led them down the streets of town

To every store and shop

He was looking out for scuttlebutt

To help him add and chop

Frosty the snowman kept investing just this way:

Buying quality, be long term, low fees

Compounding will win the day

Thumpety-thump-thump

Thumpety-thump-thump

Look at Frosty go

Thumpety-thump-thump

Thumpety-thump-thump

That how his wealth will grow

Merry Christmas!

* The question of whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie is asked every year – usually by media outlets desperate to fill some column inches or airtime minutes when there’s not much other news – but yes, it clearly is a Christmas movie, because John McClane does his thing at a Christmas party. Oh, and if you’re wondering, ‘IYKYK’ is ‘if you know, you know’.

Fool on, merrily!

I’ve gotta be honest; sometimes the Inspiration Fairy brings lots of great ideas for me to use in my writing.

At other times, well, let’s just say she might have been too busy with Black Friday this week.

Not that I don’t have anything to say – if you’ve read any of my work here, or on Twitter, you’ll know I’m not short of an opinion.

But rather, sometimes it’s hard to have something new, interesting and relevant to offer.

I started three different articles this week. I got a bee in my bonnet about different economic policies and announcements but, while I do think our readers enjoy and value that sometimes, I’m wary of overdoing it.

At times like these, I almost envy the day-traders – they always have a bright, shiny thing to chase. We long-term investors rarely get energised by those things… by design.

Frankly, my response to most business news and company announcements is… a shrug.

Not because I’m disinterested, but rather because they very rarely end up changing my view of a given company.

Most of them fall into the category of ‘company doing what it does, and having a little more, or less, success than expected, but the thesis remains unchanged’.

Kinda sounds boring… and almost neglectful, right?

After all, the market reaction to these things can be anything from a yawn to severe. Doesn’t that warrant a response?

Mostly… no.

There’s two reasons.

Firstly, if the market is overreacting to a short term jump, or slump, then so be it. We’re focused on the long term.

Second, if the news is thesis-moving, it’s generally ‘priced in’ immediately, and there’s no fancy trading that’d even be possible.

Disappointed? Expected me to have some fancy crystal ball or high-tech trading strategy?

Sorry, but again… no.

It’d be nice to imagine it’s possible, but it’s just not.

But also, if it was, do you reckon we’d beat the big end of town with their nanosecond trading algorithms and high speed data connections?

Here’s the best thing, though: our style of investing doesn’t need it.

We don’t care about squiggly lines on a chart, day-trading strategies, or six-monitor Bloomberg terminals.

We don’t want to look fancy, or impressive, or like modern-day Wolves of Wall Street.

We just want to make money.

And the best way we know to do that is to put the work into understanding companies, paying decent prices, and letting time do the work.

Kinda the way Warren Buffett does it.

No, I’m not Buffett. I will never be Buffett.

But an investment approach following his example is, we expect, a wonderful way to build long term wealth.

Which takes me back to the breathless reporting of results and the (I think) silly short-term trading that surrounds it.

When a company reports results (or more recently, updates the market on year-to-date sales, at annual general meetings), the question we ask is a simple one:

“Does this impact our view of the company’s long term future, and the price we’re prepared to pay for that future?”

Two such companies provided AGM updates this week: Harvey Norman Holdings Ltd (ASX: HVN) (I own shares) and Temple & Webster Group Ltd (ASX: TPW).

Both updates were very good: Harvey’s sales were up 9% and Temple & Webster’s revenue climbed 18%.

And the result?

Both companies’ shares fell – Harvey by a little, Temple by a lot.

Why? The market seemed to want even more.

Now, a fall isn’t necessarily or always wrong: if a company’s shares are priced for 50% growth and it only delivers 5%, it might make sense for them to drop.

…maybe…

Because it’s not about the past.

See, share prices should reflect not the last few months, but a company’s future, from here to eternity.

Again, maybe a huge sales miss does dim the brightness of a business’ long term future. If so, and if it was priced for perfection, it would make sense for shares to fall.

But take Temple & Webster.

Shares fell 32% on Wednesday.

That is, the market is telling you that it thinks the company’s entire, eternal, future is a full one-third less bright than it believed, just a day earlier.

Really?

I mean, the market might be right (in which case it was very, very wrong a day earlier).

Here’s a Black Friday special for you, for free: my team and I at Motley Fool Share Advisor, one of the investment services I run, reckon Temple & Webster is a Buy.

We thought so on Tuesday, before the fall. We still think so, today, after it.

Not because of, or despite, the announcement.

But because we think that Temple & Webster can compound sales and profit growth meaningfully over the next 5 and 10 years.

We might be wrong, of course. And hey, if we get to choose between 18% growth and 38% growth, we’d always choose the latter!

We think 18% sales growth is pretty good, though, and gives the company plenty of room to keep growing in future, as it executes against its strategy and benefits from a structural shift to ecommerce.

Most importantly, we know what game we’re playing.

We’re running a 42.2km marathon, not 422 100m sprints.

If you want to do the latter, good luck.

But if so, Aesop’s hare called, and wants to give you some advice!

Have a great weekend.

Fool on!

It’s been a busy and varied week – I wrote to you in this space on Monday about housing and Super, and yesterday I penned a short reflection on Remembrance Day – but I’m returning to regular programming with a one-day delayed (Remembrance Day was more important) perspective on Warren Buffett’s latest missive, released on Tuesday morning, our time, which is being referred to in much of the media as his ‘last’ letter.

Now, the bloke is 95. He’s not buying green bananas any more, and it’s entirely possible that Father Time (the analogy he uses in his letter) catches up with him before he has another chance to share his thoughts with his readers.

(Buffett is, if you haven’t yet learned about him, the greatest investor of our time, and perhaps ever. He is also, until December 31, the CEO of investment conglomerate Berkshire Hathaway Inc (NYSE: BRK.A) (NYSE: BRK.B) (in which I own shares). And, according to Bloomberg, he’s the 10th richest person in the world, worth a cool US$148b ($228b). That’s a lot to fit on a business card!)

Whether it’s his last letter will depend on whether he makes another trip around the sun. It’s true that after he passes the torch to new CEO Greg Abel on January 1, he’ll stop writing his annual shareholder letter. But Buffett will remain Chairman for as long as he is able, and intends to write his ‘Thanksgiving letter’ – Tuesday’s missive was just that – hereafter.

So it’s his last as the company’s CEO, but – the good lord willing and the creeks don’t rise – not necessarily his last, overall.

Regardless, when Warren Buffett speaks, or writes, we’d be mad not to listen and read – and madder still not to consider whether we can learn something from the man known as The Oracle of Omaha.

So what should investors take from his letter?

It was a mixed bag, covering Buffett’s future, the future of his estate (it’ll go to his kids’ foundations to be used for charitable work), the role of luck and good fortune, another dig at executive compensation, and sprinkled with his usual optimistic view that, while share prices can be volatile, the future is bright.

It also interestingly, and perhaps not surprisingly, given Buffett’s age and current transition, struck a somewhat wistful note; Buffett talked about his faith in his kids, that he was glad they got some wonderful attributes from their mother, and added:

“I write this as one who has been thoughtless countless times and made many mistakes but also became very lucky in learning from some wonderful friends how to behave better (still a long way from perfect, however).”

There is, then, a lot of ground from which to take lessons, and which covers many topics.

I would encourage you to read the letter: it’s short, and worth your time. And while I could try to do a blow-by-blow ‘6 things we learned…’ article, it’d end up almost as long as the original, and without Buffett’s style or continuity.

So, then, instead let me whet your appetite with a lightly edited selection of some of my favourite lines, in the hope it’ll inspire you to read the original.

On having a mid-Western approach to life:

“Looking back I feel that both Berkshire and I did better because of our base in Omaha than if I had resided anywhere else. The center of the United States was a very good place to be born, to raise a family, and to build a business. Through dumb luck, I drew a ridiculously long straw at birth.”

On the role of luck in business and in life:

“[…] Lady Luck is fickle and – no other term fits – wildly unfair. In many cases, our leaders and the rich have received far more than their share of luck – which, too often, the recipients prefer not to acknowledge. Dynastic inheritors have achieved lifetime financial independence the moment they emerged from the womb, while others have arrived, facing a hell-hole during their early life or, worse, disabling physical or mental infirmities that rob them of what I have taken for granted. In many heavily-populated parts of the world, I would likely have had a miserable life and my sisters would have had one even worse.

On genes and becoming a better role model:

“Fortunately, all three [of Buffett’s] children received a dominant dosage of their genes from their mother. As the decades have passed, I have also become a better model for their thinking and behavior. I will never, however, achieve parity with their mother.”

On Buffett’s replacement:

“[Incoming CEO] Greg Abel has more than met the high expectations I had for him when I first thought he should be Berkshire’s next CEO. He understands many of our businesses and personnel far better than I now do, and he is a very fast learner about matters many CEOs don’t even consider. I can’t think of a CEO, a management consultant, an academic, a member of government – you name it – that I would select over Greg to handle your savings and mine.”

On executive remuneration:

“Based on the majority of my observations – the CEO of company “A” looked at his competitor at company “B” and subtly conveyed to his board that he should be worth more. Of course, he also boosted the pay of directors and was careful who he placed on the compensation committee. The new rules produced envy, not moderation. The ratcheting took on a life of its own. What often bothers very wealthy CEOs – they are human, after all – is that other CEOs are getting even richer. Envy and greed walk hand in hand. And what consultant ever recommended a serious cut in CEO compensation or board payments?”

On Berkshire’s structure and strength:

“Berkshire has less chance of a devastating disaster than any business I know. And, Berkshire has a more shareholder-conscious management and board than almost any company with which I am familiar (and I’ve seen a lot). Finally, Berkshire will always be managed in a manner that will make its existence an asset to the United States and eschew activities that would lead it to become a supplicant.”

Perhaps befitting both a ‘Thanksgiving’ letter, and one in which Buffett is handing off executive control of the company (and maybe from a 95 year old who’s done and seen a lot), Buffett’s life advice took the final section of the letter, and is worth reprinting, almost in full:

“One perhaps self-serving observation. I’m happy to say I feel better about the second half of my life than the first. My advice: Don’t beat yourself up over past mistakes – learn at least a little from them and move on.”

“It is never too late to improve. Get the right heroes and copy them.”

“Decide what you would like your obituary to say and live the life to deserve it.”

“Greatness does not come about through accumulating great amounts of money, great amounts of publicity or great power in government. When you help someone in any of thousands of ways, you help the world. Kindness is costless but also priceless. Whether you are religious or not, it’s hard to beat The Golden Rule as a guide to behavior.”

“I write this as one who has been thoughtless countless times and made many mistakes but also became very lucky in learning from some wonderful friends how to behave better (still a long way from perfect, however). Keep in mind that the cleaning lady is as much a human being as the Chairman.”

And he concludes:

“Choose your heroes very carefully and then emulate them. You will never be perfect, but you can always be better.”

I was going to finish with some remarks of my own. But I’ll let Buffett’s words speak for themselves.

It will be a sad day when we no longer have the Oracle of Omaha around.

Fool on!

Today is November 11. Remembrance Day.

Originally known as Armistice Day, it marked the beginning of the end of World War I.

At 11am on November 11, 1918, the guns fell silent across the Western Front as a negotiated deal came into effect (an ‘armistice’ is a formal agreement for fighting to stop). Thankfully, the armistice held, and the war ended.

That time, and that date – the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month – were subsequently chosen to commemorate those of the Commonwealth and Allied countries who died in the First World War.

Tragically, that war wouldn’t be, as was hoped, ‘the war to end all wars’. And so, subsequently, to include those who died in all wars, the commemoration was renamed Remembrance Day.

Each year, at 11am, we pause with one minute’s silence, to remember those of our armed services who suffered and died in war and war-like conflicts, and in peace-keeping operations.

We remember their service. We remember their bravery. And we remember their sacrifice.

This year, as I was contemplating Remembrance Day, I was drawn to the word ‘we’.

On one hand, Remembrance is deeply personal. We stand for one minute’s silence wherever we are around the country. In the silence, we are left alone with our thoughts, as we reflect on those selfless soldiers, sailors and aviators.

And yet, as a commemoration, Remembrance Day is deeply communal.

The lament, and gentle exhortation, is not Lest I Forget, but Lest We Forget.

It is a reminder that while the fallen were each someone’s son, niece, father or sister, they were also each Australians, serving our common cause, in our uniform, under our flag and in our name.

That while they may have joined for any number of reasons – loyalty, adventure, escape, expectation – they served a single chain of command, and faithfully followed orders.

Sometimes – too often – even unto death.

They didn’t choose the conflict, the enemy or the battlefield. They simply did as they were asked, as loyal servants of their – our – country.

Maybe that’s why commemoration should be both personal, and communal.

Because it’s not just about me. Or you.

It’s about us. About marking something that is deeply important to us all.

It is about our sacred duty to remember. As a community and as a nation. The nation they served, and in whose name they died.

They are with us still in spirit. In the words inscribed on countless war memorials across the country, their names liveth forevermore.

I will pause for one minute’s silence at 11am, today.

It is a personal decision, but I hope you might consider doing the same, joining our communal Remembrance.

A communal tone that is also clear in the Ode Of Remembrance, which will be recited at memorials and cenotaphs around the country at 11am.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

Lest We Forget.