In September 2020, I created a Facebook event.
It was clearly described as a picnic at the ANZAC War Memorial in Kings Park. It was simply an invitation for people to gather peacefully in a public place. There was no call to protest, no rally language, no speakers, and no agenda.
Within days, that Facebook post led to contact from Jason, a member of the State Security Group.
When Online Speech Triggers Offline Surveillance
In this context, “State Security” is not a vague or informal term. It refers to a formal government body.
According to the Western Australian Government, the Office of State Security and Emergency Coordination is an office within the Department of the Premier and Cabinet, established to support Western Australia’s involvement in national counter-terrorism arrangements. The office works with WA Police to promote a consistent and coordinated approach to counter-terrorism planning, provides advice and support to the Premier, and promotes whole-of-government policy and strategic-level collaboration for significant emergencies.
It was within this broader counter-terrorism and security framework that my Facebook post was assessed.
The Phone Call
Approximately a week before the picnic, I received a phone call from Jason.
Early in the conversation, I was asked whether I was a “Sovereign Citizen.” I told him that the term sovereign citizen is an oxymoron.
He explained that he believed I was organising a rally and wanted to know how many people were expected to attend. I explained that I was not organising a rally, that it was a picnic. I explained that there were only seven people who had RSVP’d to the event at that point, so I invited him to join us, as I thought it would help boost the numbers.
I was shocked that I had been profiled by the State Security Group as a domestic terrorist. I was a Justice of the Peace at the time.
This profile was based on how an online post had been interpreted.
The Day of the Picnic
On the day, seven or eight people attended.
Those present included mothers with children and a disabled woman using a mobility scooter. People sat, talked, shared food, and quietly enjoyed Kings Park.
What stood out was the presence of six uniformed police officers visibly monitoring the gathering throughout the event.
No laws were broken.
No directions were issued.
No incident occurred.
Yet the police presence remained.
From Picnic to Profile
Nothing about the gathering itself justified security attention.
Somewhere between a post being published and police attending the park, a lawful social activity was categorised as something else. Something suspicious. Something requiring monitoring.
What remains unexplained is why organised rallies at Parliament House, involving far larger numbers and explicit political messaging, did not appear to attract the same level of pre-emptive scrutiny, while a small picnic did.
That inconsistency raises an obvious question:
What criteria were actually being applied?
This is how profiling occurs in modern systems.
Not through evidence of wrongdoing, but through assumptions layered onto digital activity, where labels and perceived ideology outweigh conduct itself.
The Problem with Labels
The term “Sovereign Citizen” is frequently used by police and security agencies as a shorthand category. It is not a legal status. It is not a crime. It is a label.
Once applied, that label collapses context.
A picnic becomes a “movement.”
A Facebook post becomes a “signal.”
Ordinary people become a “risk profile.”
The label does the work, not the facts.
Fast forward to December 2025
Let’s explore the Online Safety acts term “Serious Harm”
The Online Safety Act defines serious harm as serious physical harm or serious harm to a person’s mental health, excluding ordinary emotional reactions such as distress, fear, anger, or offence.
On that definition, disagreement, criticism, or exposure to opposing views does not qualify.
Unless, of course, the harm being contemplated is the serious psychological distress that may arise when government narratives are questioned, public scrutiny increases, or the comfort of institutional authority is disturbed.
In that case, lawful speech becomes a risk not because it harms the public, but because it unsettles those in power.
The Broader Pattern: Online Safety and Censorship
Fast forward to today.
In the United Kingdom, the Online Safety Act is already being applied beyond criminal or unlawful content. Lawful news reporting has been restricted under the Act, even where platforms themselves identified no policy breach. In at least one recent example, a journalist’s video reporting on a news event was taken down under safety provisions alone.
Because these restrictions operate at platform level, content restricted “for children” is often removed from adult view as well.
Australia is now moving down the same path.
Across both jurisdictions, online safety legislation is framed as child protection. In practice, it restricts lawful speech based on perceived risk, sensitivity, or narrative impact rather than illegality.
The mechanism is consistent:
Safety language replaces legality.
Risk replaces evidence.
Visibility becomes conditional.
Why This Matters
What happened to me in 2020 did not involve harm, disorder, or threat.
It involved a Facebook post and a picnic.
Today, that same logic is being formalised in legislation. Online expression is increasingly treated as a precursor to risk. Dissent is reframed as danger. Narrative control is justified as safety.
For this reason, I have commenced proceedings in the High Court of Australia under section 75(v) of the Constitution, which confers original jurisdiction on the Court to review and restrain unlawful action by Commonwealth officers. My concern is that recent legislative and regulatory developments increasingly treat lawful expression and association as matters of risk management rather than as protected features of a constitutional system. Section 75(v) exists to ensure that executive action remains within legal limits, particularly where emerging frameworks risk altering the balance between individual liberty and state power before their full consequences are realised.
When expression itself becomes a trigger for surveillance or suppression, the boundary between civic participation and suspicion becomes dangerously thin.
Final Reflection
This was not a rally.
It was not a protest.
It was not an act of extremism.
It was a picnic.
And yet, it was treated as something that required watching.
That is not a theoretical concern about censorship or government overreach.
That is lived experience.
By Dawn Kelly
14 December 2025
This article reflects my personal experience and observations. It is written in good faith to document events as they occurred and to raise questions of public interest regarding online speech, surveillance, and constitutional limits on executive power.
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