When Volunteers Aren’t Protected: The Discriminatory Gap in Victoria’s Health and Safety Laws

Victoria has long relied on the goodwill and grit of volunteers. From bush search and rescue teams to volunteer firefighters, tens of thousands of people step up every year to serve their communities in the most difficult circumstances. Yet behind the thank-you speeches and recruitment drives lies an uncomfortable truth: Victorian health and safety and compensation laws continue to discriminate against volunteers.

Safety Jon having a very, very bad day. Cold, tired, upset and in pain.

Under the national model Work Health and Safety (WHS) laws, volunteers are recognised as “workers.” That recognition is not symbolic — it imposes the same positive duty on Persons Conducting a Business or Undertaking (PCBUs) to ensure the health and safety of volunteers as it does for paid employees. Put simply, if you’re a volunteer in most Australian jurisdictions, the law says you are owed the same duty of care as your paid colleague standing next to you.

Victoria, however, has refused to adopt the model WHS Act. Instead, we remain tied to older frameworks that carve out volunteers into grey zones. This leaves volunteers exposed, creates inconsistent access to treatment and compensation, and undermines the very principles of fairness and safety that the system is supposed to protect.

My Experience as a BSAR Volunteer

"Don't be alarmed, I'm OK, but I've just been taken by helicopter to hospital" were the words I said to my partner when I called her from the Royal Melbourne Hospital...

From there, I learned this gap the hard way. While serving as a Bush Search and Rescue (BSAR) volunteer, I broke my ankle during steep snow and ice training up Mt Bogong in 2019.

At the time, I was assured that I was covered under the Emergency Services Act 1986. The message was clear: you’re a volunteer, but you’re protected if injured while serving. This was written in the Search and Rescue Manual.

Except that when I made a claim, the reality was very different. Gallagher Bassett — the claims agent handling the matter — rejected it outright on the grounds that I was “not an employee.” Suddenly, the safety net I’d been promised didn’t exist.

It took escalation beyond the normal channels. I approached my local Member of Parliament, who raised the issue directly with the Minister for Emergency Services during Question Time in Victorian Parliament. Within 48 hours, my claim was accepted — but not under the Emergency Services Act, as I had been led to believe. Instead, it was pushed through under the Police Assistance Act.

That outcome only came because I was prepared to fight, and because a Minister was put on the spot in Parliament. The average volunteer, who simply trusts the system to work as promised, may not have the same stamina or connections.

Not to mention that after returning home and receiving the $23,000 Ambulance Victoria invoice, the organisation I was serving, and was a sitting Board Member of, tried their best to persuade me from forwarding the bill on and insisted I should use my private health insurance to cover it. Boy did I feel good. This attitude eventually lead to my decision to not re-apply for a second term on the board.

From BSAR to Firefighting: The Pattern Repeats

Fast-forward to today. I’m now an injured firefighter, navigating the CFA’s internal claims and injury management processes. On paper, this looks like progress. There are claims channels, case managers, and supposed pathways for treatment and compensation.

In practice, the process has fallen well short of WorkCover expectations. Claims are not assessed in the timeframes required under WorkCover legislation.

Communication is patchy, delays drag on, and injured firefighters are left in limbo — unable to access timely treatment, unable to plan financially, and often left to chase the very organisation they’ve served to get the basics moving.

It’s not just my story. Talk to injured CFA volunteers and you’ll hear a common refrain: the system is slow, opaque, and inconsistent. It doesn’t matter whether the delays are caused by under-resourced claims teams, confusing legislative frameworks, or simple inertia — the result is the same. A system that doesn't treat volunteers with the same urgency as paid workers leaves them bearing the burden.d

When you've been physically injured and had your life and property threatened, the last thing needed is a slow, dragged-out, antiquated process.

The Broader Discrimination

When you step back, the discrimination becomes obvious:

• Different recognition under the law: In jurisdictions with the model WHS Act, volunteers are clearly “workers” and owed a duty of care. In Victoria, they are not.

• Inconsistent coverage: Promises of coverage under acts like the Emergency Services Act 1986 often collapse in practice, with claims shunted elsewhere or rejected entirely.

• Slower and weaker compensation processes: Volunteers injured in service often wait longer for claims to be accepted, receive patchier support, and have less recourse than employees covered under standard WorkCover.

• Reliance without reciprocity: Victoria relies heavily on volunteer emergency services — CFA, SES, BSAR, lifesaving clubs, and more. Yet the laws treat them as second-class citizens when it comes to health, safety, and recovery.

This is more than a bureaucratic oversight. It is systemic discrimination. Volunteers are good enough to risk their lives and health, but not good enough to be guaranteed the same protections as paid workers.

It is a constitutional disparity.

Why This Matters

The stakes aren’t abstract. For a volunteer with a broken ankle, a delayed claim means time without treatment approvals. For a firefighter with injuries (both physical and mental), it means the difference between timely rehab and return to community duties. For families, it can mean financial stress piled on top of the trauma of an injury. For me, it means not being able to lift my daughter, serve my community, and impact on my career.

There’s also a broader cultural impact. When volunteers see how injured colleagues are treated, morale suffers. Recruitment and retention suffer. Communities lose faith in the promise that if you step forward to serve, you won’t be abandoned when something goes wrong.

And make no mistake — this is not a rare or hypothetical issue. Volunteers across Victoria are injured every year. Fires, floods, search operations, rescues — these are dangerous, high-risk environments. The law should anticipate that reality, not deny it.

WorkSafe’s Shrug

When I raised these issues directly with the Minister for WorkSafe and TAC, and with WorkSafe itself, the best I could get was a referral to a “guide for volunteer organisations.”

That is not a solution. It is a deflection.

A guide does not impose enforceable duties. A guide does not fix legislative gaps. A guide does not create certainty for volunteers or their families. At best, it offers advice; at worst, it reinforces the message that volunteers are on their own.

Meanwhile, there is no clear timeline or commitment for Victoria to align with the model WHS Act. Every year that passes is another year volunteers are left exposed.

What Needs to Change

1. Legislative Reform - Victoria must adopt the model WHS Act, or at the very least amend existing laws to recognise volunteers as workers with equal protections. This is the most direct way to eliminate the discriminatory gap.

2. Streamlined Compensation Processes - Volunteer emergency service organisations should not be allowed to run compensation and injury management processes that fall short of WorkCover standards. Claims timeframes, case management practices, and access to treatment must be brought into line with the protections employees already enjoy.

3. Transparency and Accountability - Injured volunteers should not have to escalate to MPs or Ministers to have claims taken seriously. There must be clear, transparent, and accountable processes in place.

4. Cultural Shift - Beyond the laws, there needs to be a shift in how government and agencies value their volunteers. Recognition cannot stop at thank-you plaques and photo opportunities. Real respect means real protections.

Closing Thoughts

Volunteers are the backbone of Victoria’s emergency services. They are the ones filling sandbags at midnight, searching for missing persons in the bush, and walking into firegrounds when others are walking out.

To leave them without the same health and safety protections as paid workers is more than unfair — it is discriminatory.

My experiences as both a BSAR volunteer and now an injured firefighter have shown me the gap in stark relief. Promises of coverage that don’t hold up. Claims processes that lag months behind what WorkCover would demand. Systems that leave volunteers fighting just to get what should have been guaranteed from the start.

If Victoria is serious about valuing its volunteers, the law must change. Until then, every “thank you” speech rings hollow against the reality of a system that takes their service but won’t guarantee their protection.