‘In that moment, everything changed’: Goldstein MP Zoe Daniel’s teenage grief

Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Zoe Daniel. The 52-year-old former TV journalist was elected as the independent MP for Goldstein in 2022, becoming the first woman and first non-Liberal to win this Victorian federal seat since its creation in 1984.

Zoe Daniel: “People are looking for a disruptor. If not a disruptor in Trump form, maybe a disruptor in teal form.”

DEATH

What have been the biggest losses in your life so far? It’s so interesting that you ask me this: I recently went to the funeral of Bianca Jones, one of the young women who died as a result of methanol poisoning in Laos. It really landed with me because my best friend, Belinda, was killed – when I was 17, and she was 16 – in a car accident.

Geez, Zoe. She was a learner driver. She went to a party and then got behind the wheel of a car. There were a couple of other friends of ours in the car, too. She rolled it. The other two survived, but she was killed. I remember everything about it so vividly. It’s probably one of the reasons that the loss of Bianca and Holly has landed so heavily with me. But I’ve also really reflected on the difference in how we treat those kinds of emotions in 2025 versus 1990.

What have you noticed? Back then, it was very much like, “Well, this terrible thing happened”; we all went to a funeral, then it was over and we were all kind of told, “Get on with it.” So there are some good changes that have happened, in terms of the support that we offer young people. But it’s made me think about how clearly I remember that when you lose someone, they’re gone.

How did losing Belinda so young change how you lived? It’s that loss of innocence overnight. I grew up in Tasmania and rode horses, and I remember so vividly that I was saddling a horse. The person I was working for walked down the hill and said, “Belinda’s died.” In that moment, everything changed. My teenage years were over. But in many ways, it was a moment of resilience, too: “Well, I’m here and I’ve got an opportunity to live my life and I need to live it fully.”

RELIGION

What do you tick on the census under “Religion”? ”Agnostic”, in the sense of not having enough belief in any form of religious theory. Because of my journalism, I’ve spent a lot of time in different places of worship and engaging with people of different religions. In my current role, I often go to synagogues and engage with the Jewish community in a way I find very soothing. But if I were to have any sort of mantra myself, it would be to simply try to treat other people as you would like to be treated.

You and fellow-independent, “teal” MPs represent a shift in federal Australian politics. Do you feel the country has lost its faith in the two-party system? I do. It’s not just opinion: it’s borne out in the statistics. Over time, there’s been a drift away from the major parties towards minor parties and independents. At the last election in 2022, about one-third of Australians didn’t vote for the major parties. There’s a particular overlap with attitudes in the US, where a frustration with the two-party system has manifested differently – in the twice-election of Donald Trump. People are looking for a disruptor. If not a disruptor in Trump form, maybe a disruptor in teal form.

What sins are you most susceptible to? Anyone who knows me knows I have a potty mouth.

As pungent as Selina Meyer’s in Veep? Maybe not quite there [laughs], but close to it.

BODIES

Is a political career incompatible with good physical health? It’s not easy. I had this conversation with one of my key team members this week. I said, “After the next election, all going well, let’s try to do things a bit differently: make time for exercise and a bit of sunlight.” Stuff like that. The unfortunate reality is you’re trying to be all things to all people all of the time. I also have two teenagers and a family. So the thing that falls off the end of the table every day is exercise. I love running, I love swimming, I love horse-riding. Trying to find space for it – to be a normal person and get out in nature – is quite challenging. Usually, I’m at my desk by 6.30am and don’t leave Parliament House until 7pm or 8pm.

Is it incompatible with good mental health? Well, I think the two are intertwined. If I can get my five-kilometre run in a couple of times a week, I’m more than happy. For me, mental health comes with exercise. If I’m getting wound up or feeling overwhelmed, often I’ll think, “When was the last time I went for a run?”

To what extent have you felt your physical appearance as a parliamentarian has been scrutinised? Or is that something you’d experienced already as a journalist on camera? The only way it really manifests is when particular media outlets deliberately choose really horrendous photographs and print them large on page one or three of their newspapers. I’m also one of a group of female [independent] MPs who were partly elected because we were professional women. When this group does something collectively, newspapers might print a photo of all of us in evening gowns. They’d never show a group of male MPs in tuxedos. It’s a weird dynamic.

What superpower do you wish you had? One thing I wish I could do is sing.

What superpower do you already have? My chief adviser says that my superpower is listening. But that’s not really a party trick. That’s something I’ve learnt over three decades of journalism.

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