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1969 Was Supposed to Change Everything.

In 1969, Australia recognised equal pay for equal work. What never followed was the infrastructure to support women’s real working lives — particularly where creativity, care, and economic security intersect.

Ruth Maddison, taken in 1985

In 1969, Australia formally recognised equal pay for equal work. It was a landmark moment, the kind that gets taught as a turning point. From that point on, we’re told, women entered the workforce on equal footing. Progress followed. Opportunity expanded. The rest, presumably, worked itself out.

The story sounds neat. It also doesn’t match reality.

The dominant narrative goes something like this: women gained access to work, education, and professional life; the rest is a matter of individual choice and effort. If women are still underrepresented in certain industries, or struggling financially later in life, it’s often framed as the result of personal decisions — time out of the workforce, part-time work, care priorities, creative pursuits that didn’t quite “pay off.”

What that narrative leaves out is everything that was never built.

The years following 1969 didn’t deliver new systems to support how women actually live and work. Instead, infrastructure grew in a very specific direction. We became increasingly organised around responding to women once they were in distress. Mental health services expanded. Domestic violence frameworks developed. Welfare and support systems professionalised. These responses were necessary, and many still are.

What’s harder to overlook, with a bit of distance, is how completely these responses came to stand in for any broader thinking about women’s economic lives — especially the parts of women’s work that sit between paid employment, care, and creativity.

There was no equivalent investment in infrastructure that allowed women to sustain productive, paid working lives alongside responsibility. No serious attempt to account for parenting load, domestic labour, or long-term financial security as structural factors rather than private issues to be managed quietly. Equal pay existed on paper, but the conditions required to make it meaningful were left largely untouched.

From a Creative Women’s Association perspective, this gap matters because it sits right at the intersection of creativity, care, and economic survival. Women make up the majority of the creative workforce, much of it operating through freelance work, short-term contracts, micro-businesses, and self-managed practices. At the same time, women continue to perform around three-quarters of unpaid labour and most primary care. These realities are not separate; they shape each other every day.

Yet creative work has largely been treated as optional, flexible, and infinitely absorbable. If it pays, great. If it doesn’t, it’s expected to continue anyway — squeezed in around everything else. Over time, this turns creative practice into something fragile, easily abandoned when pressure rises, and quietly blamed on personal preference rather than systemic design.

This is where the conversation usually stalls. Creative work gets framed as passion. Care gets framed as love. Financial insecurity gets framed as the cost of choice. What disappears is the possibility that the system itself was never designed to support women as creative, economic contributors across a full life.

When you look elsewhere, it becomes clear this isn’t inevitable. In other contexts, skilled, creative labour has been stabilised through very ordinary means: standards, certification, and protection of value at the point of origin. When creative work is recognised as real work, it stops being treated as a personal indulgence and starts functioning as an economic activity.

The problem isn’t a lack of talent or ambition. It’s the absence of infrastructure. And that absence has consequences that compound over time: interrupted careers, lower lifetime earnings, and a persistent superannuation gap that reflects not poor planning, but a system that never took women’s working lives seriously in the first place.

What we’re seeing now isn’t a sudden cultural awakening. It’s a moment where the cost of leaving these gaps unaddressed has become harder to hide. Economic pressure exposes what was once quietly absorbed. Informal labour becomes visible when it can no longer hold everything together.

The reframe is simple, even if it’s uncomfortable. Equality at the point of pay was never enough. Without infrastructure — for care, for creativity, for continuity — equality remains partial. The question isn’t whether women are capable of sustaining creative, productive lives. They already are. The question is why systems were never built to support it.

Read Related Article:

50 years after the historic ‘equal pay’ decision, the legacy of ‘women’s work’ remains

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