Sufficient Connection, Not Causal Connection: Non-Party Costs Orders Against Litigation Funders, Brokers and Facilitators in Western Australia

1. Introduction

On 5 June 2026, Whitby J delivered judgment in Wright v Lemon [No 5] [2026] WASC 218, ordering that five individuals and entities who funded, brokered or otherwise facilitated Julian Wright’s unsuccessful claim against the interests of his late brother and his sister be jointly and severally liable, together with Julian, for the defendants’ costs of the trial – costs estimated at $5.76 million (at [117], [277]).

The decision is the most comprehensive statement to date by the Supreme Court of Western Australia of the principles governing costs orders against non-parties who stand behind litigation. Its central holding is doctrinal: a causal connection between the non-party and the incurrence of costs is not a precondition to the exercise of the power under s 37(1) of the Supreme Court Act 1935 (WA). The touchstone is whether the non-party had a connection to the litigation sufficient to warrant the exercise of the power, judged against what is fair and just between the parties (at [102]–[110], [124]). In so holding, Whitby J declined to follow the reading of Kaur v Sikh Gurdwara Perth (Inc) [No 2] [2018] WASC 99 that had been pressed upon the court, and aligned Western Australian practice with the Full Court of the Federal Court’s decision in Court House Capital Pty Ltd v RP Data Pty Ltd [2023] FCAFC 192.

The decision warrants attention well beyond the parties for three reasons. First, it resolves a point of genuine uncertainty in Western Australian costs law, on which first-instance authority had been read as requiring a ‘real and direct’ causal link. Secondly, the non-parties exposed were not institutional litigation funders. They were a friend who sourced money from his own contacts and worked as a ‘legal assistant’ on a speculative basis, a broker who structured funding through unit trusts and corporate trustees, and an investor who introduced fellow investors. The judgment demonstrates that informal and quasi-professional funding networks attract the same exposure as commercial funders. Thirdly, the decision supplies practical guidance on almost every argument a non-party might deploy in resistance – onus, causation, apportionment, control, impecuniosity, security for costs, want of warning, and corporate or trust structuring – and rejects each on the facts.

The decision is of immediate relevance to civil litigation practitioners in Western Australia: those acting for successful parties contemplating recovery against funders; those advising funders, brokers and investors on exposure; and those acting for funded plaintiffs, whose disclosure obligations under O 9A of the Rules of the Supreme Court 1971 (WA) acquire renewed significance.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

Section 37(1) of the Supreme Court Act 1935 (WA) provides that the costs of and incidental to all proceedings in the Supreme Court ‘shall be in the discretion of the Court or judge’, and that the court ‘shall have full power to determine by whom or out of what estate, fund, or property, and to what extent such costs are to be paid’ (set out at [87]). The discretion must be exercised judicially but is otherwise ‘absolute, unconfined and unfettered’: Frigger v Lean [2012] WASCA 66 at [53], cited at [88]. The overarching guide is what is fair and just between the parties: Latoudis v Casey [1990] HCA 59; (1990) 170 CLR 534, 558, cited at [88].

It has long been established that statutory costs powers in this form extend to orders against persons who are not parties to the proceedings, including those who fund or financially assist litigation: see Knight v FP Special Assets Ltd [1992] HCA 28; (1992) 174 CLR 178, in which the High Court confirmed that a general costs jurisdiction permits orders against non-parties in appropriate cases. Whitby J treated the proposition as well established (at [89]).

Within that broad jurisdiction, the authorities have grappled with how to confine the power. In Bischof v Adams [1992] 2 VR 198, 205, Gobbo J examined both ‘the connection between the non party and the proceedings’ and ‘the causal connection between the non party and the costs’, requiring a connection that is ‘real and direct’ and observing that mere benefit from the litigation would not, without more, suffice (quoted at [100]). The Privy Council in Dymocks Franchise Systems (NSW) Pty Ltd v Todd [2004] 1 WLR 2807 expressed the view that if costs would have been incurred without the non-party’s involvement, the non-party should not ordinarily be liable for them (discussed at [98]–[99]).

In Western Australia, Le Miere J drew on both authorities in Kaur v Sikh Gurdwara Perth (Inc) [No 2] [2018] WASC 99 at [13], stating that ‘the authorities establish that there must be a causal link’ and that the link ‘must be real and direct’. In Kaur, his Honour also indicated that the applicant bears the onus of establishing that the order is just (at [16]). Those statements were applied at first instance, including by Lundberg J in Sprintex Limited [No 3] [2025] WASC 59, where a causal connection was one of several factors considered (discussed at [101], [108]).

The federal authorities developed differently. In Gore v Justice Corporation Pty Ltd (2002) 119 FCR 429, the Full Court held that the correct approach is ‘to examine what did happen, putting to one side issues of speculation’ about whether the litigation could have continued unaided (at [61] of Gore, quoted at [104]). In Hardingham v RP Data Proprietary Limited [2023] FCA 480 at [19]–[23], Thawley J held that the power is exercised where the non-party’s connection to the litigation is sufficient to warrant it; that assistance founded in family or social ties, without commercial interest, is typically insufficient; that it is ‘not exceptional to order costs against the litigation funder who facilitates litigation for their own commercial gain’; and that it would be unfair to allow a non-party to fund litigation in the hope of benefit without facing the corresponding costs risk (quoted at [90]–[93]). The Full Court upheld that decision in Court House Capital Pty Ltd v RP Data Pty Ltd [2023] FCAFC 192, expressly rejecting a ‘but for’ requirement (at [34] of Court House Capital, quoted at [103]) and confirming that a funder with a commercial interest may be liable even absent any control over the proceedings (at [35], citing Gore at [64]; quoted at [239]).

Two further strands complete the framework. In Ballantyne Suites Pty Ltd v Ballantyne Chambers Pty Ltd (in liquidation) [2014] VSCA 223 at [45], the Victorian Court of Appeal held that ‘[t]here is no onus of proof in an application for the exercise of a discretion such as that in the present case’, a holding since cited with approval in Ipex ITG Pty Ltd (in liq) (receivers appointed) v Victoria [2014] VSCA 315 at [45] and Mistrina Pty Ltd v Australian Consulting Engineers Pty Ltd – Costs [2020] NSWSC 633 at [24] (discussed at [95]–[96]). And in Carter v Caason Investments Pty Ltd [2016] VSCA 236, the Victorian Court of Appeal identified factors relevant to the discretion – including whether the non-party’s commercial interest goes beyond mere recovery of funds advanced – and upheld an order against the sole director of a corporate funder, observing that it would not be in the interests of justice if corporate funders could be established with virtually no assets so that ‘those truly standing behind the litigation would not be exposed to any adverse costs order’ (at [55] of Carter, quoted at [229]).

Before Wright v Lemon [No 5], therefore, Western Australian first-instance authority sat in apparent tension with the federal and Victorian appellate authorities on two points: onus, and the necessity of a causal connection. The decision resolves both.

3. The Facts of the Case

The underlying litigation

Ernest (Peter) Wright carried on mineral exploration through Wright Prospecting Pty Ltd (WPPL). On his death in 1985 his shares passed to his three children, Michael, Angela and Julian (at [1]). In 1987 Julian sold his one-third shareholding to Michael and Angela (at [2]). Proceedings brought in 2001 by Julian’s children were resolved in 2008 by a Deed of Settlement to which Julian was party and which contained a covenant not to sue (at [3]).

On 24 February 2017, Julian commenced proceedings claiming that the assets of his father’s estate and matters material to WPPL’s mining interests had not been fully disclosed to him and that he did not receive full and fair value for his shares; he sought reinstatement as a one-third shareholder or, in the alternative, equitable compensation and damages (at [4]–[5]). On 2 July 2021, Le Miere J dismissed the claims, finding they were barred by the 2008 Settlement Deed and that commencing the proceedings breached the covenant not to sue: Wright v Lemon [No 2] [2021] WASC 159 (at [7]). Costs orders followed on 8 February 2022: Wright v Lemon [No 2] [2021] WASC 159 (S) (at [8]). The Court of Appeal dismissed Julian’s appeal on 1 March 2024 (Wright v Lemon [2024] WASCA 19) and special leave to appeal to the High Court was refused on 8 August 2024 (at [8]).

By chamber summons dated 17 December 2025, the defendants sought orders that six non-parties be jointly and severally liable with Julian for the defendants’ costs of the trial – not the appeal (at [9]–[10]). The application was discontinued by consent against one respondent, leaving three groups: Mr Ian Thom and Barbirolli Investments Pty Ltd (the Thom Parties); Mr David Purcell and Litigation Funding Solutions (Australia) Pty Ltd (LFSA) (the Purcell Parties); and Mr John Trudgian, who did not appear (at [11]). The summons was heard over three days in April 2026 (at [11]).

The Thom Parties

Mr Thom, a friend of Julian since 2012, approached Julian about reviewing the files from the earlier proceedings with a barrister to assess whether Julian had a claim (at [24]–[31]). In return for introducing Julian to counsel, assisting to find funding for a legal opinion and helping to review documents, Julian entered into a deed dated 16 May 2013 with Barbirolli – a company of which Mr Thom was sole director and ‘controlling mind’, which did not trade, held no assets and kept no financial records (the Barbirolli Deed) (at [32]–[33]). The Barbirolli Deed entitled Barbirolli to 50% of any settlement monies up to and including $400 million, 30% of any excess, and 15% of any entitlement Julian had to future dividends or royalties (at [147]).

In 2013, Mr Thom procured $125,000 from four of his own contacts under agreements styled ‘loan agreements’, repayable only upon a successful outcome and carrying entitlements to a share of any settlement (at [34]–[38], [127]). Between 2013 and 2014, opinions were obtained from junior and senior counsel (at [36]–[40]). From 1 April 2016, Mr Thom was employed by Julian’s solicitors, Butcher Paull & Calder, as a ‘legal assistant’ working exclusively on Julian’s claim, remunerated only upon successful conclusion of the claim and payable directly by Julian (at [42]–[43], [133]). In August 2016, further advice supportive of a claim was obtained (at [46]). Mr Thom introduced Julian to Mr Purcell by no later than 2019 (at [49], [138]). At trial, Mr Thom attended on most days, sat in the position usually occupied by an instructing solicitor, engaged with Julian’s legal team and passed messages to counsel (at [71], [140]–[144]).

The Purcell Parties

Mr Purcell was sole director of LFSA, a self-described ‘broker or originator of litigation funding’. By a Mandate Agreement of 3 August 2019, Julian granted LFSA an exclusive period to secure funding offers, acknowledging that LFSA would be compensated by any funder it introduced (at [49]–[50]). Four funding tranches followed, structured through unit trusts with corporate trustees of which Mr Purcell was sole director: the LFS Funding Agreement of 17 July 2020 ($2 million, in exchange for 10% of any recovery capped at $1.2 billion, secured by first mortgage over the Marri Wood Park property owned by Julian’s company Nattim Pty Ltd) (at [56]–[57], [216]); the 2020 M&R Funding Agreement of 12 October 2020 ($550,000 for 5.5% of recovery, secured by second mortgage, entered while judgment was reserved) (at [58]–[59], [220]); the J4J arrangement of March 2021 ($1.1 million) (at [61]); and the 2021 M&R Funding Agreement of 18 May 2021 ($550,000 for 6.875% of recovery) (at [62], [224]). In each trust, A Class unitholders (the investors) were entitled to repayment and 80% of net income; B Class units carrying 20% of net income were held by or shared with LFSA (at [217]–[218], [221]–[222], [225]–[226]). Mr Purcell, through LFSA, stood to gain up to $47.7 million in total, and his entities received fees from each advance (at [219], [223], [227]–[228]).

Mr Trudgian

Mr Trudgian, introduced to Julian’s cause by Mr Purcell, advanced approximately $425,000 to $475,000 of his own and family trust funds across the funding agreements (at [51]–[52], [260]–[261]). Under a further agreement with LFSA, he was rewarded with shared B Class units for each investor he introduced – the schedule recording eight introductions (at [266]–[267]). His total potential gain was up to $37.2 million (at [273]).

Events after the litigation failed

After special leave was refused, the mortgages securing $2.55 million of funding were called and discharged, and Marri Wood Park was sold on 18 November 2024 for $5,450,000 to a company controlled by Julian’s son (at [64]–[66], [248]). On Mr Purcell’s applications, the two trustee funding companies were deregistered on 22 January 2025, Mr Purcell declaring to ASIC that each had assets worth less than $1,000 (at [251]–[252]). There was evidence, accepted by the court, of a real likelihood that Julian would be unable to pay the defendants’ costs or a substantial portion of them (at [187]–[192]).

The credibility findings

Whitby J accepted the evidence of the defendants’ witnesses (at [69], [72]) but found Mr Thom neither credible nor reliable, identifying five instances in which his evidence was inconsistent with the documents, his own affidavit or other witnesses, and finding that he sought substantially to downplay his role (at [73]–[86]). His evidence was not accepted except where it amounted to an admission, was inherently probable, or was corroborated (at [86]). Mr Purcell elected to adduce no evidence (at [19], [207]).

4. Analysis of the Court’s Reasoning

No onus of proof

The Thom Parties, relying on Kaur at [16], submitted that the applicant bears the legal onus of establishing that a non-party costs order is just (at [94]). Whitby J preferred the Victorian Court of Appeal’s holding in Ballantyne at [45] that there is no onus of proof in an application for the exercise of such a discretion, noting that Kaur was decided without reference to Ballantyne and Ipex and that the point was not live in Kaur (at [95]–[97]). The court added that the application did not, in any event, turn on onus (at [97]).

Causal connection is not a precondition

The central doctrinal question was whether the applicant must demonstrate a causal connection between the non-party and the incurrence of costs – in substance, a ‘but for’ precondition. Both the Thom Parties and the Purcell Parties relied on Kaur at [13] (at [98]). Whitby J held that Kaur, Sprintex and Bischof do not stand as authority for such a precondition, for five reasons (at [102]–[110]):

(1)   the Full Court in Court House Capital unanimously rejected the proposition that a ‘but for’ finding is required, the court rejecting the contention as unsupported by authority and unsound (at [103], quoting Court House Capital at [34]);

(2)   a ‘but for’ test would require the court to speculate about what might have happened absent the funding, an exercise the Full Court in Gore held should be put to one side in favour of examining ‘what did happen’ (at [104], quoting Gore at [61]);

(3)   the landscape of litigation funding has changed since Bischof and Dymocks: funding as a commercial profit-making enterprise is increasingly common, and applications must be determined in that context (at [105], citing Hardingham at [21]);

(4)   Kaur and Sprintex are not inconsistent with Court House Capital: neither involved a commercial litigation funder, and in neither was causal connection the sole determinant – it was one factor in a fact-specific enquiry (at [106]–[109]); and

(5)   imposing such a precondition is inconsistent with the wide and unfettered nature of the s 37 discretion (at [110]).

The governing principle, repeatedly stated, is that ‘the proper enquiry is whether a non-party has a sufficient connection to the proceedings and whether it is fair and just to make a costs order against the non-party’ (at [124]; see also [112], [130], [210]).

The factors guiding the discretion

Whitby J emphasised that factors or guidelines ‘are not a substitute for, and are not a fetter upon’ the discretion, and are not closed (at [111]). Relevant considerations may include (at [113], citing Carter at [19], [49]–[50] and Court House Capital at [38]):

(1)   whether the non-party has a commercial interest in the subject matter going beyond mere recovery of funds provided;

(2)   whether the non-party had any right to be involved in decision-making and/or was entitled to protections with respect to settlement;

(3)   the financial state of the unsuccessful party, particularly whether it can meet a costs order;

(4)   any failure to seek security for costs and/or to warn non-parties that a costs order will be sought; and

(5)   whether the proceedings involved matters of public interest extending beyond the parties.

This is ‘neither a checklist nor an exhaustive list’ (at [114]).

Apportionment is not required and selective pursuit is permissible

The Thom Parties contended the application must fail because the defendants had pursued only selected non-parties and made no attempt to apportion the costs sought between them (at [115]–[116]). Whitby J rejected both limbs. It is a matter for the applicant which non-parties it pursues; on the defendants’ estimate there were 52 individual funders, and requiring applications against each would be unreasonable and impractical – non-parties made liable may themselves seek contribution from others (at [119]). Nor must the applicant apportion: in Court House Capital at [39], a submission that the order must correspond with the degree of funding was rejected as offending ‘the broad and discretionary nature of the power’, and in CPC Patent Technologies Pty Ltd v Apple Pty Ltd (No 2) [2025] FCA 1671 four separate non-parties were held jointly and severally liable despite having funded in different circumstances (at [122]–[123]). The amounts connected to the respondent non-parties were, in any event, approximately $4.4 million of the $4.75 million advanced (at [120]).

The Thom Parties: facilitation without advancing funds

The Thom Parties advanced none of their own money. That did not preclude the order: costs orders may be made against a non-party whose role is to source funds for the litigation from others – Maylord Equity Management Pty Ltd v Nauer (No 2) [2017] NSWSC 1467 at [52], applied at [130] and [210]. The court found Mr Thom procured the initial $125,000; the ‘loan’ label did not matter because the advances were repayable only upon success and carried entitlements to a share of the proceeds, bearing ‘all the characteristics of funding agreements’ (at [127]). His facilitation was ‘substantial and sustained’: introductions to counsel and to Mr Purcell, document collation, employment as a legal assistant remunerated only out of any proceeds, and daily attendance and engagement at trial (at [128]–[146]).

The commercial interest analysis turned on the construction of the Barbirolli Deed. Applying orthodox principles – recitals may aid construction of operative clauses (Franklins Pty Ltd v Metcash Trading Ltd (2009) 76 NSWLR 603 at [380]); a deed is construed as a whole, preferring harmonious constructions (Australian Broadcasting Commission v Australasian Performing Right Association Ltd [1973] HCA 36; (1973) 129 CLR 99, 109; AIG Insurance Australia Ltd v McMurray [2023] WASCA 148 at [136]); and a general instrument is read by reference to what the parties contemplated, as disclosed by the recitals (Grant v John Grant & Sons Pty Ltd (1954) 91 CLR 112, 131) – the court held the Deed extended to any action by Julian concerning ownership of shares or assets of WPPL, whenever commenced, and that its condition was satisfied by the 2016 advice (at [158]–[169]). The submission that the Deed had ‘run its course’ after unfavourable advices in 2013–2014 was rejected as without merit (at [170]).

The alternative contention – that Julian repudiated the Deed in 2020 by saying ‘the deal was over’ and that Mr Thom accepted the repudiation – failed on the evidence. Renunciation requires conduct conveying to a reasonable person repudiation of the contract as a whole or of a fundamental obligation, is a serious matter not lightly inferred, and must be clearly proved: Armada Balnaves Pte Ltd v Woodside Energy Julimar Proprietary Limited [2022] WASCA 69 at [509], [515], applied at [174]–[175]. The only evidence was Mr Thom’s own, first asserted in 2026; it was uncorroborated, inconsistent with Julian’s redaction of the Deed in 2022, with Mr Thom’s continued close involvement at trial, and with his retention of the Deed when he retained almost nothing else; and it was implausible that entitlements of that magnitude would be surrendered on an oral remark (at [176]–[177]).

The result was a finding that Mr Thom was ‘an integral part of the litigation’, with Barbirolli – and through it Mr Thom – having the most to gain from success: ‘It ultimately stood to gain more than even Julian himself’ (at [205]–[206]).

The Purcell Parties: brokerage, trust structures and risk-free funding

Mr Purcell’s primary answer was that he and LFSA were mere brokers engaged by the funders, that the corporate trustees acted only as trustees, and that neither he nor LFSA provided funding or stood to benefit (at [210]–[211], [214]). The court looked to substance. LFSA’s fee was paid out of the funding advanced to Julian, and LFSA held B Class units entitling it to 20% of the net income of each trust – a total potential gain of up to $47.7 million (at [212], [219], [223], [227]–[228]). Mr Purcell ‘was in substance the person who sourced the funding’; it would be unfair and unjust to allow him ‘to escape a non-party costs order by hiding behind the corporate structures and trust arrangements he set up’ (at [230]), the court applying the observation in Carter at [55] concerning funders established with virtually no assets (at [229]).

Three further arguments failed. As to timing, funding provided late – including while judgment was reserved – still attracts liability where it ensures the proceedings continue and confers a share of the outcome: CPC Patent Technologies at [108]–[109], applied at [234]; and the only reasonable inference was that Julian required the funding to continue (at [235]). As to control, each agreement disclaimed direct or indirect control while requiring consultation on settlement; but where a funder has a commercial interest, the requisite connection may be established even absent control: Court House Capital at [35], citing Gore at [64], applied at [239]–[240]. As to the deregistration of the trustee companies, the submission that they were the proper respondents was ‘fatal[ly]’ undermined by Mr Purcell’s own declarations to ASIC that each had assets under $1,000 (at [250]–[253]).

Two features aggravated the position. The $2.55 million advanced under the two mortgage-secured agreements was repayable irrespective of the outcome, rendering that funding ‘entirely risk free’; absent a non-party costs order, the funding vehicles ‘would experience only upside’, which ‘would encourage litigation funders to pursue profit with no consideration for the vindication of legal rights’ (at [247]). And the calling of those mortgages forced the sale of Marri Wood Park, removing Julian’s principal asset from the defendants’ reach (at [248]–[249]).

Mr Trudgian: the investor who introduces other investors

Mr Trudgian neither appeared nor adduced evidence; the court was satisfied the application had come to his attention and proceeded in his absence (at [258]–[259]). He had advanced approximately $425,000 to $475,000, introduced at least eight further investors under an incentive arrangement rewarding him with shared B Class units, and stood to gain up to $37.2 million (at [261], [266]–[267], [273]). His funding was ‘purely with a view to making a commercial profit’, and the connection was sufficient (at [274]–[275]).

The rejected discretionary defences

Four further matters were said to weigh against the orders; none did. First, Mr Thom’s claimed impecuniosity (his only asset a half-share of his home) was held irrelevant, applying by analogy Northern Territory v Sangare [2019] HCA 25; (2019) 265 CLR 164, 175: ‘Whether a party is rich or poor has, generally speaking, no relevant connection with the litigation’ (at [181]–[182]). To hold otherwise ‘would serve to encourage a non-party to take steps to structure their affairs to avoid being subject to a non-party costs order’ (at [183]). Mr Purcell’s assertion that an order would bankrupt him failed for want of any evidence (at [244]–[245]).

Secondly, the defendants’ ability to pursue Julian was no answer: the evidence established a real likelihood that Julian could not pay, which weighed in favour of, not against, the orders (at [185]–[192], [241]–[243]). The court also confirmed that an application made before taxation of costs is ‘entirely appropriate and reasonable’, and that non-parties made liable have the right to be heard on quantum (at [189]).

Thirdly, the failure to seek security for costs carried no weight. Courts do not, absent exceptional circumstances, order security against impecunious individual plaintiffs, and the defendants were ‘well advised’ not to apply (at [194], [197]); Hardingham at [28] and Court House Capital at [18] are to the same effect (at [195]–[196], [198]).

Fourthly, the failure to warn the non-parties failed as a factor because the defendants did not know of the non-parties’ financial interests. The defendants had twice sought disclosure of interested non-parties under O 9A r 2 of the Rules of the Supreme Court 1971 (WA), in 2017 and 2018, and were twice told there were none (at [200]). While the Thom Parties may not have fallen within the O 9A definition, it would be unfair to weigh a want of warning against an applicant kept in ignorance of the non-party’s existence or interest (at [203]–[204]).

5. Assessing the Consequences

The financial architecture of the judgment repays attention. The defendants’ trial costs were estimated at $5.76 million (at [117], [187]). Total litigation funding advanced to Julian was approximately $4.75 million, of which approximately $4.4 million was connected to the respondent non-parties (at [120]). Against those figures sat the non-parties’ potential rewards: Barbirolli’s entitlement to 50% of any settlement up to $400 million together with 15% of future dividends or royalties (at [147]); LFSA’s potential $47.7 million (at [228]); and Mr Trudgian’s potential $37.2 million (at [273]). The asymmetry between stake and risk – particularly the $2.55 million of fully secured, ‘entirely risk free’ funding (at [247]) – was central to the conclusion that it would be unjust for the non-parties to escape liability (at [14], [206], [257], [275]).

The form of the orders matters. Each non-party is jointly and severally liable, with Julian, for the whole of the defendants’ trial costs pursuant to the existing costs orders (at [277]). The defendants may therefore enforce in full against whichever respondent has assets, leaving the non-parties to pursue contribution from one another or from other funders not pursued (at [117], [119]). Quantum remains to be agreed or taxed, and the non-parties retain the right to be heard on it (at [189]). The non-parties were also exposed to the costs of the application itself, having unsuccessfully opposed it (at [278]).

Systemically, the decision recalibrates the economics of informal litigation funding in Western Australia. A broker’s fee carved out of each advance, B Class trust distributions, success-fee ‘employment’ arrangements and proceeds-sharing deeds will each found exposure to the whole of the successful party’s costs. Deregistering funding vehicles after the event will not assist those who stood behind them, and declarations made to ASIC in that process may be deployed against them. Funders who secure their advances so as to eliminate downside risk should expect that feature to weigh in favour of an order, not against it.

6. Worked Example

Suppose the following. Paula commences Supreme Court proceedings against Mercer Holdings Pty Ltd claiming $60 million for fraudulent misrepresentation in the buy-out of her interest in a family company. Paula is asset-poor. Her long-time acquaintance Donald reviews her old files, introduces her to counsel, collates documents, and procures $200,000 from three of his friends under ‘loan agreements’ repayable only out of any recovery, each lender taking a small percentage of the proceeds. Donald’s shelf company, Slateco Pty Ltd (no assets, no trading), holds a deed entitling it to 35% of any recovery. Separately, a broker, Fiona, through her company LFC Pty Ltd, establishes a unit trust: twelve investors subscribe $1.5 million as A Class unitholders; LFC takes B Class units carrying 20% of net income; the advance is secured by a mortgage over Paula’s investment unit; and the funding agreement disclaims all control but requires Paula to consult the trustee on settlement. The claim fails. Mercer’s costs are $2.1 million. The mortgage is called and the investment unit sold, leaving Paula unable to pay.

From Mercer’s perspective, Wright v Lemon [No 5] maps the application. There is no onus to discharge (at [97]) and no need to prove the litigation would have stopped without the funding (at [102]–[110]). Mercer would lead the funding instruments themselves: Slateco’s 35% entitlement and LFC’s B Class units are commercial interests going well beyond recovery of funds advanced (at [113(1)], [147], [219]); the settlement-consultation clauses engage the second factor (at [113(2)], [238]); Paula’s inability to pay engages the third (at [192]); and the absence of a security for costs application against an impecunious individual carries no weight (at [194]–[198]). Donald’s position mirrors Mr Thom’s: he advanced nothing himself, but sourcing funds from others, introducing counsel and working the file are facilitation enough (Maylord at [52]; at [130], [146]). Fiona’s position mirrors Mr Purcell’s: brokerage fees carved from the advances and B Class entitlements are commercial interests, and neither trusteeship nor an absence of control answers the application (at [212], [229]–[230], [239]–[240]). Mercer may pursue Donald, Slateco, Fiona and LFC alone – ignoring the twelve A Class investors – and seek joint and several orders without apportionment (at [119]–[124]).

From the non-parties’ perspective, the available answers are narrow but real. Donald might seek to prove his assistance was founded in friendship without commercial interest – but the Slateco deed forecloses that characterisation; the Hardingham family-assistance category (at [90]) protects only those with no stake in the outcome. If Slateco’s entitlement had been documented as terminated before trial, contemporaneous records of termination would be essential – uncorroborated assertions failed in Wright v Lemon [No 5] (at [176]–[177]). Fiona cannot resist the order by pointing to her trustee companies, but she retains the right to be heard on quantum at taxation (at [189]) and may seek contribution from Donald, Slateco and, potentially, the A Class investors (at [119]). An impecuniosity plea would require cogent evidence and would, at best, inform the structure of the order rather than prevent it (at [182], [245]).

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following framework, derived from the judgment, is directed principally to practitioners acting for a successful party considering recovery against non-parties, with corresponding notes for those advising funders and facilitators.

Step 1: Map the funding network early and in writing. Issue requests under O 9A r 2 of the Rules of the Supreme Court 1971 (WA) at commencement and renew them as the matter progresses, and keep the answers (at [200]–[201]). Even where the answers deny any interested non-party, the correspondence will later defeat a ‘failure to warn’ submission (at [204]). Watch the courtroom: the conduct of a non-party at trial – where they sit, with whom they confer – proved significant evidence of connection (at [140]–[144]).

Step 2: Do not regard the absence of a security for costs application as an obstacle. Where the plaintiff is an individual within the jurisdiction, security is generally unavailable on grounds of impecuniosity, and the failure to apply will not weigh against a later non-party costs application (at [194]–[198]).

Step 3: Frame the application on sufficient connection, not causation. Plead and prove what did happen – who sourced what, on what terms, for what reward – rather than speculating on what would have happened without the funding (at [102]–[110], citing Gore at [61]). The five factors at [113] supply the organising structure, but they are neither a checklist nor closed (at [114]).

Step 4: Prove the commercial interest from the instruments. Obtain the funding agreements, deeds and trust documents by pre-action discovery or orders in the application, and put the percentages in evidence. The decisive findings were drawn from the Barbirolli Deed’s percentages (at [147]), the B Class unit entitlements (at [219], [223], [227]) and the incentive arrangements for introducers (at [266]–[267]).

Step 5: Look through corporate vehicles and trust structures. Identify the natural persons standing behind funding vehicles, their directorships and shareholdings, and any fees flowing to associated entities. Trusteeship is no shield where the trustee’s associates take a share of the proceeds (at [229]–[230]), and post-judgment deregistration of funding vehicles may yield admissions – here, ASIC declarations of assets under $1,000 (at [252]).

Step 6: Establish the unsuccessful party’s inability to pay. Direct evidence of statements by the unsuccessful party, property searches against the party and related entities, and tracing of asset disposals (here, the forced sale of Marri Wood Park and the discharge of the funders’ mortgages) all weighed in favour of the orders (at [187]–[192], [248]–[249]).

Step 7: Seek joint and several orders and resist apportionment. The applicant need neither pursue every funder nor apportion between those pursued; contribution is a matter for the non-parties inter se (at [117]–[124]). Bring the application before taxation – that course is ‘entirely appropriate’, and the non-parties’ right to be heard on quantum answers any prejudice (at [189]).

Step 8: For those advising funders, brokers and facilitators – price the risk and paper the file. Advise that adverse costs exposure attaches to any commercial stake in the outcome, however informal: success-fee consultancies, proceeds-sharing deeds and brokerage structures all sufficed (at [146], [179], [213], [228]). Risk-free structures (fully secured advances) aggravate rather than mitigate (at [247]). If an entitlement is genuinely terminated, document the termination contemporaneously; an uncorroborated account of an oral termination, advanced for the first time in the costs application, will likely fail (at [176]–[177]). Sound document-retention practices matter: the routine deletion of emails and absence of records told against Mr Thom (at [177(5)]).

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

For the successful party seeking the order

The applicant’s case is built from documents and observed conduct: the funding agreements, deeds and trust instruments showing entitlements beyond repayment (at [127], [147], [216]–[228]); correspondence evidencing introductions, sourcing of funds and involvement in funding decisions (at [78], [138]); evidence of the non-party’s presence and role at trial (at [140]–[144]); O 9A correspondence and its answers (at [200]); company and property searches tracing structures, deregistrations and asset disposals (at [188], [250]–[252]); and evidence of the unsuccessful party’s inability to pay, including the party’s own statements (at [187]–[188]). Affidavits from the solicitors who conducted the trial proved central, and their contemporaneous file notes and observation evidence withstood challenge (at [67]–[72]).

For the non-party resisting the order

The viable lines of resistance, on the judgment’s own terms, are these. First, absence of commercial interest: assistance ‘founded in family or social ties’ directed at access to justice remains typically insufficient for an order (Hardingham at [19]–[20], quoted at [90]), so a genuine lender or supporter with no share of the proceeds stands apart from the respondents in this case. Secondly, genuine termination of any entitlement before the costs were incurred – but proved by contemporaneous documents, not assertion (at [176]–[177]). Thirdly, public interest: proceedings raising matters extending beyond the parties’ interests engage the fifth factor (at [113(5)]). Fourthly, procedural fairness: a non-party must be afforded a proper hearing, including the opportunity to resist evidence already received (Bischof at 205, quoted at [100]), and retains the right to be heard on quantum at taxation (at [189]). Fifthly, structure: while impecuniosity will not prevent an order, Sangare contemplates that a party’s financial position ‘may inform the structure of a costs order’, such as payment over time (quoted at [182]) – a submission that must be supported by evidence (at [245]). Finally, a non-party held liable may pursue contribution from other funders not joined (at [119]).

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1.        The test in Western Australia is sufficient connection, judged by what is fair and just; causal connection is not a precondition. Kaur does not require a ‘but for’ link between the non-party and the costs incurred; the court will examine what did happen, not speculate about what might have (at [102]–[110], [124]).

2.        There is no onus of proof on the applicant. Ballantyne was preferred to Kaur on this point (at [94]–[97]), although applicants should still assemble a complete documentary record, since the facts must persuade the court that an order is fair and just.

3.        Facilitators and brokers who advance none of their own money are exposed. Sourcing funds from others, introducing funders, collating documents and working the file on a speculative basis founded orders against both Mr Thom and Mr Purcell (Maylord at [52]; at [130], [146], [213]).

4.        Corporate vehicles and trust structures will not shield those standing behind the funding. The court looks to substance: fees carved from advances, B Class distributions and directorships of assetless trustees all pointed to the individuals (at [229]–[230]), consistently with Carter at [55].

5.        Control over the proceedings is not necessary where a commercial interest exists. Funding agreements disclaiming control but reserving settlement-consultation rights did not avoid the orders (at [238]–[240], applying Court House Capital at [35]).

6.        Timing offers no refuge. Funding provided late in the proceedings – even while judgment is reserved – attracts liability where it secures a share of the outcome (at [231]–[236], applying CPC Patent Technologies at [108]–[109]).

7.        The impecuniosity of the non-party is irrelevant, and risk-free funding aggravates. Sangare applies by analogy to non-parties (at [182]–[184]); and a funder whose advance is fully secured, so that it enjoys ‘only upside’, invites rather than avoids an order (at [247]).

8.        Joint and several orders, without apportionment, are available against selected non-parties. The applicant chooses whom to pursue; contribution is for the non-parties among themselves; and the application is properly brought before taxation, with quantum protected by the right to be heard (at [117]–[124], [189]).

9.        The professional dimension: O 9A answers and document practices will be scrutinised. Denials of third-party funding given on a party’s behalf during the proceedings, and a non-party’s failure to retain documents, each shaped the outcome (at [177], [200]–[204]). Practitioners advising funded plaintiffs should ensure disclosure responses are accurate and kept under review; those advising funders should assume that every instrument, fee and unit entitlement will ultimately be read aloud in court.

10. Conclusion

Wright v Lemon [No 5] settles, at first instance, the two questions that had unsettled non-party costs practice in Western Australia: there is no onus of proof, and there is no causal-connection precondition. What remains is a single, fact-sensitive enquiry – sufficient connection, assessed against what is fair and just – informed by open-ended factors of which a commercial interest in the outcome is the most powerful. On the facts, the decision extends the reach of that enquiry across the full cast of a modern funding network: the friend-facilitator with a proceeds-sharing deed, the broker with B Class units behind corporate trustees, and the investor rewarded for introducing other investors.

The practical message is symmetrical. For successful parties, recovery against those who stood to profit from the litigation is now a well-marked path, available without apportionment and unimpeded by the absence of security for costs or prior warning where the funding was undisclosed. For funders, brokers and facilitators – however informal – the price of a share in the upside is exposure to the whole of the downside. Those who structure, paper and disclose their arrangements accordingly will be best placed; those who rely on labels, corporate shells or after-the-event assertions should expect the courts to look, as Whitby J did, at what was actually done and what was actually promised.

Costs in Mega-Litigation: Special Costs Orders, the 150% Benchmark and the Limits of Indemnity Costs

An Analysis of Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [2026] WASCA 71 (S)

1. Introduction

On 4 June 2026 the Court of Appeal (Quinlan CJ, Vaughan JA and Smith AUJ) refused an application by the CITIC parties to re-open their appeal in the long-running Sino Iron project litigation, dismissed the appeal and cross-appeal in accordance with reasons delivered on 28 May 2026, and disposed of the costs of both proceedings. The Court's reasons for those orders were published the following day: Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [2026] WASCA 71 (S). Unless otherwise indicated, paragraph references in this article are to those reasons.

This article examines the costs component of the decision (at [34]–[47]). Three aspects warrant the attention of practitioners beyond the immediate parties. First, the Court made special costs orders under s 141(3) of the Legal Profession Uniform Law Application Act 2022 (WA) fixed at a ceiling of up to 150% of the maxima allowed under the applicable costs determinations – declining Mineralogy's application to remove the limits altogether, and declining to adopt the ceiling of double the maxima which the trial judge had allowed for the proceedings at first instance (at [41]–[44]). Secondly, the Court declined to make programming orders for a foreshadowed application for indemnity costs, raised for the first time after the appeal had been dismissed, having heard counsel and concluded that the application was not reasonably arguable (at [36]–[38]). Thirdly, the Court refused claims under the residual items of the costs determinations that were either unparticularised or inconsistent with the structure of the determinations (at [45]–[46]).

The decision is significant for commercial litigators and costs practitioners in Western Australia. It supplies a quantitative benchmark – a 50% uplift on the determination maxima – for special costs orders in litigation of the largest scale, and it restates, with appellate endorsement, the principle that the interests of justice include keeping the costs of litigation within reasonable bounds. The unifying theme is that the Court will not, through its costs orders, lend its imprimatur to the conduct of litigation without reference to cost (at [43]).

2. Relevant Legal Framework

Costs determinations and special costs orders

Party and party costs in the Supreme Court of Western Australia are regulated by costs determinations made by the Legal Costs Committee. The orders in this matter engaged the Legal Profession (Supreme Court and District Courts) (Contentious Business) Determination 2022 (WA) and the Legal Profession (Supreme Court and District Courts) (Contentious Business) Determination 2024 (WA). Table A of each determination fixes maximum hourly and daily rates for senior and junior counsel. Table B fixes the allowances for solicitors by reference to time, total costs and the classification of the experience of the fee earner, and deals with residual categories through specific items, including item 35 ('Other work'), item 36 ('Disbursements') and item 37, which makes specific provision for travel expenses (at [41], [44]–[46]).

Section 141(3) of the Legal Profession Uniform Law Application Act 2022 (WA) empowers a court to make a special costs order where the amount of costs allowable under a determination is inadequate because of the unusual difficulty, complexity or importance of the matter. The provision replaced s 280(1) of the Legal Profession Act 2008 (WA) in relevantly identical terms, with the consequence that the authorities decided under the predecessor provision remain applicable.

The criteria are well established, and were stated by the Court of Appeal at an earlier stage of this same litigation in Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [No 2] [2017] WASCA 76 (S) [11]–[16] (Buss P, Murphy & Beech JJA), the decision cited by the Court in the present case (at [42]). The court must form an opinion with two components. The first is that the maximum amount allowable under the relevant scale item is inadequate, in the sense that there is a fairly arguable case that the bill to be presented to the taxing officer may properly tax at an amount greater than the limit imposed by the determination. The second is that the inadequacy arises because of the unusual difficulty, complexity or importance of the matter. A fairly arguable case is not established merely because a party has in fact incurred costs greater than the determination allows. The word 'unusual' qualifies only 'difficulty', and connotes a comparison with the general run of civil cases determined in the court.

The appellate benchmark for the uplift

In JKC Australia LNG Pty Ltd v CH2M Hill Companies Ltd [No 2] [2020] WASCA 112 (S) [11(b)] (Buss P, Beech and Vaughan JJA), the Court of Appeal made a special costs order increasing the maximum limits for counsel under the relevant determination by 50%. That order supplied the benchmark which the Court applied in the present case as 'consistent with previous decisions of this Court' (at [43]).

The costs orders at first instance

At trial, Kenneth Martin J made special costs orders permitting taxation by reference to a ceiling of up to double the maximum rates allowed under the determinations: Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [No 15] [2023] WASC 56 (S). His Honour described the litigation as presenting 'wholly unique and almost unconquerable dimensions and complexities' ([No 15] (S) [80], quoted at [43]). Both the calibration and the characterisation were before the Court of Appeal on the costs argument, because the CITIC parties proposed that the appellate special costs orders adopt the same ceiling of double the maxima (at [41]).

Indemnity costs in litigation conducted without reference to cost

The Court did not restate the general principles governing indemnity costs. It applied observations made by Quinlan CJ at an earlier stage of the same litigation in Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [2022] WASC 151 [44]–[45], which it quoted in full (at [38]):

The parties can, of course, spend as much as they wish on legal costs. Nevertheless, in litigation of this type, it is extremely difficult to make any real assessment as to whether one party has 'by its conduct unnecessarily increased the cost of the litigation', when the parties appear to be prepared to conduct the litigation with very little reference to its cost. It also rather lessens the extent to which an order for indemnity costs can operate as any sort of sanction to mark the Court's disapproval of unreasonable conduct.

To the contrary, an order for indemnity costs in a case such as this could well have the opposite effect. To order indemnity costs (where 'everything is included unless it is driven out by the words of exclusion'), might legitimately be seen as lending the Court's imprimatur to the conduct of litigation without reference to cost, or as indicating that, for some litigants, the Court will leave it to the parties to determine what is 'reasonable' (subject only to the residual power of the taxing officer to be positively satisfied that some particular amount had been unreasonably incurred).

Re-opening before orders are entered

The costs orders were made together with the refusal of the CITIC parties' application to re-open the appeal, and the principles governing that application form part of the decision's context. The jurisdiction to re-open a proceeding subsists until judgment has been drawn, passed and entered: Elliott v The Queen [2007] HCA 51; (2007) 234 CLR 38 [31]. It is exercised with caution, having regard to the public interest in the finality of litigation: Autodesk Inc v Dyason [No 2] [1993] HCA 6; (1993) 176 CLR 300, 303 (Mason CJ); Minister for Education v Klein [2005] WASCA 185 (S) [7] (Steytler P). As Mason CJ explained in Autodesk, the jurisdiction is enlivened where the court has apparently proceeded according to some misapprehension of the facts or the relevant law which cannot be attributed solely to the neglect or default of the applicant; it 'is not to provide a backdoor method by which unsuccessful litigants can seek to re-argue their cases' (quoted at [5]).

3. The Facts of the Case

The litigation

The primary proceedings (CIV 1915 of 2019) were heard by Kenneth Martin J and concerned the Sino Iron project. The issue relevant to the re-opening application was whether the Mining Right and Site Lease Agreements (MRSLAs) between two of the CITIC parties and Mineralogy contained an implied term to the effect that Mineralogy would grant additional tenure to the CITIC parties as they 'reasonably required' (at [6]). On 28 May 2026 the Court of Appeal delivered reasons concluding that the MRSLAs did not contain the implied term, and that the appeal and Mineralogy's cross-appeal should each be dismissed (at [1], [7]). The second respondent (Mr Palmer) and the third respondent (the State of Western Australia) did not appear.

The scale of the litigation bears upon the costs analysis. The appellants were represented by two senior counsel appearing with two junior counsel; the first respondent by senior counsel appearing with junior counsel. The appeal books ran to 9,600 pages (at [15]). In the appeal reasons, the Court observed that the parties 'conduct their voluminous litigation without reference to its cost and have a tendency to raise each and every issue that might be thought to be arguable' (appeal reasons [3], cited at [38]).

The re-opening application

Following delivery of the appeal reasons, Mineralogy moved for orders giving effect to them. The CITIC parties applied instead to re-open the appeal, contending that the Court had departed – without notice and without an opportunity to be heard – from a common position of the parties, said to be that 'there would have to be further grants of tenure during the life of the Project' (at [2], [11]). The application fixed upon the statement in the appeal reasons (at [372]) that the CITIC parties could not 'call in aid any extrinsic surrounding circumstance known to the parties at the time of the creation of the MRSLAs, to the effect that the grant of additional tenure was inevitably going to be required for the purposes of the Project' (at [10]).

The CITIC parties relied upon a passage in the oral submissions of senior counsel for Mineralogy acknowledging that 'there would have to be further grants of tenure of one sort or another' during the life of the project (at [12]). They did not refer to the passage that immediately followed, in which counsel confined the common ground by reference to 'the dichotomy between a duty to grant as opposed to an obligation to consider or a duty to consider' (at [13]). The CITIC parties also sought to adduce extracts from the trial submissions to demonstrate that the common position existed at trial – extracts which, as the Court observed, 'did not manage to find their way into the 9,600 pages of appeal books filed in the appeal' (at [15]).

The costs contest

The parties filed competing minutes of proposed orders before the hearing on 28 May 2026, after receiving an advance copy of the appeal reasons (at [35]). Each accepted that the CITIC parties should pay Mineralogy's costs of the appeal, and that Mineralogy should pay the CITIC parties' costs of the cross-appeal. The dispute concerned the special costs orders sought under s 141(3) (at [35]). Four issues divided the parties. First, Mineralogy sought special costs orders in relation to its costs of the appeal only, whereas the CITIC parties submitted that any special costs orders should apply mutually to the appeal and the cross-appeal (at [40]). Secondly, Mineralogy sought the removal of the limits on the maximum hourly and daily rates for counsel; the CITIC parties proposed a ceiling of up to double the maxima, consistent with the orders made at trial (at [41]). Thirdly, Mineralogy sought an allowance under item 35 ('Other work') of Table B (at [45]). Fourthly, Mineralogy sought to claim travel and accommodation under item 36 ('Disbursements') of Table B (at [46]).

Separately, on 4 June 2026 – after the appeal and cross-appeal had been dismissed, for the first time, and contrary to its filed minute – Mineralogy advised the Court that it wished to seek programming orders for an application for indemnity costs. The parties had corresponded about such an application, but neither had informed the Court (at [36]).

The final orders

The Court dismissed the appeal (CACV 35 of 2023) and the cross-appeal (CACV 37 of 2023). It ordered the appellants to pay the first respondent's costs of the appeal (including any reserved costs), and the cross-appellant to pay the costs of the respondents to the cross-appeal, in each case to be taxed if not agreed. Special costs orders were made under s 141(3) permitting taxation in each case by reference to a ceiling of up to 150% of the maximum allowable hourly and daily rates for senior and junior counsel under Table A, and up to 150% of the limits for time and total costs or by the classification of the experience of the fee earner under Table B, of both the 2022 and 2024 determinations (at [47]).

4. Analysis of the Court's Reasoning

The re-opening application: 'will' rather than 'might'

The Court was satisfied that it had neither misapprehended the parties' position nor departed from any common position (at [16]). The impugned paragraph of the appeal reasons was not concerned with whether the parties commonly understood that the CITIC parties would, at some point, require more land for the project – a matter the trial judge had accepted in relation to the eventual storage of waste rock and tailings (at [17]). It was concerned with a different question: whether it was commonly understood that Mineralogy would necessarily provide that additional land – the distinction between a 'potential future grant' of tenure and a necessary, or inevitable, grant of future tenure by Mineralogy (at [18]).

Three features of the reasoning are instructive. First, context: the impugned paragraph responded to a specific 'surrounding circumstance' which the CITIC parties had themselves advanced at trial, and which the trial judge had characterised as an embedded argument of law rather than an assembly of fact (at [19]–[20], [22]). Secondly, the CITIC parties' own further submissions conceded that the relevant passages of the primary reasons were 'not contrary to the common position' – a concession the Court regarded as demonstrating that no departure had occurred (at [21]). Thirdly, the distinction between a grant that will occur and a grant that might occur 'may be a subtle one, but it is real, nonetheless' (at [26]). There having been no departure from a common position, there was no denial of procedural fairness (at [27]).

For completeness, the Court observed that even a misapprehension of the kind alleged would not have affected the result. On the proper construction of the MRSLAs, any grant of additional tenure 'would be a matter to be determined, if at all, by the agreement of the parties acting in good faith but in accordance with their own commercial interests' (appeal reasons [397], cited at [30]). The application was refused, and the way was cleared for final orders, including as to costs (at [32]–[33]).

Indemnity costs: a reasonably arguable basis must be shown

The Court's treatment of Mineralogy's indemnity costs application is procedurally the most notable feature of the decision. The application surfaced only after the appeal had been dismissed, contrary to Mineralogy's filed minute, and after correspondence between the parties of which the Court had not been informed (at [36]). Rather than simply listing the application for hearing, the Court heard junior counsel for Mineralogy 'as to the basis for the proposed application for indemnity costs with a view to determining whether such an application was reasonably arguable' (at [37]).

Counsel identified paragraphs of the appeal reasons in which the CITIC parties' contentions had been rejected, and references in the appeal reasons critical of the conduct of the CITIC parties. As to the latter, the Court noted that the criticisms concerned the CITIC parties' conduct in relation to the events the subject of the litigation, not their conduct of the appeal proceeding itself (at [37]). Neither category sufficed: the Court was 'not satisfied that there was a reasonably arguable basis for indemnity costs' (at [38]).

The substantive reason lay in the character of the litigation. Reiterating its observation that the parties conduct their voluminous litigation without reference to its cost, the Court applied the analysis of Quinlan CJ in the 2022 costs decision set out in Part 2 above: where both parties are prepared to litigate with very little reference to cost, it is extremely difficult to assess whether one of them has by its conduct unnecessarily increased the costs of the litigation; an order for indemnity costs loses its capacity to operate as a sanction; and the making of such an order might legitimately be seen as lending the Court's imprimatur to that mode of litigation (at [38]). The logic merits emphasis: the more lavishly both sides litigate, the weaker – not the stronger – the case for indemnity costs becomes.

Special costs orders: threshold satisfied, quantum disciplined

The Court was satisfied, in accordance with the well-established criteria, that special costs orders were appropriate: the rates in the determinations were inadequate because of the unusual difficulty, complexity or importance of the matter (at [42]). The real contest was quantum. Mineralogy sought the removal of the limits for counsel altogether; the CITIC parties proposed a ceiling of double the maxima, mirroring the trial orders (at [41]).

The Court rejected both positions and fixed the uplift at 50%, 'consistent with previous decisions of this Court', citing JKC Australia LNG (at [43]). Two strands of reasoning underpin the calibration. The first is comparability: the Court did not agree with the trial judge – 'at least as far as the appeal was concerned' – that the case presented 'wholly unique and almost unconquerable dimensions and complexities'; rather, 'the complexity wrought by the approach taken by the parties to this dispute is comparable to that taken by many other parties' to what the Court had described as 'mega-litigation' (at [43]). The second is normative: 'the interests of justice include the need to keep the costs of litigation generally within reasonable bounds', and the Court 'should not lend its imprimatur to the conduct of litigation without reference to cost' (at [43]). The same conclusion was reached in relation to the Table B allowances for solicitors (at [44]).

The choice of words repays attention. The complexity was 'wrought by the approach taken by the parties': it was, in significant measure, self-generated. A party cannot create complexity through its own forensic choices and then rely upon that complexity to dismantle the limits on recoverable costs.

Mutuality

The Court accepted the CITIC parties' submission that 'the same basis for costs recovery should apply to each of the costs orders' (at [40]). The unusual difficulty, complexity or importance that justifies a special costs order inheres in the matter, not in the identity of the receiving party. Where an appeal and a cross-appeal arise from the same proceedings, an asymmetric approach to recovery would lack a principled foundation.

The residual items: particularisation required

Mineralogy's claim under item 35 ('Other work') failed because it did not identify – even when asked – any work relevant to the appeal that would not otherwise be dealt with by the items of the determinations (at [45]). Its claim to travel and accommodation under item 36 ('Disbursements') failed because the effect of the order sought would have been a complete indemnity for travel and accommodation expenses, in circumstances where item 37 makes specific provision for travel expenses (at [46]). The principle is one of structural integrity: special costs orders operate within the architecture of the determinations, and are not a vehicle for converting scale recovery into indemnity recovery item by item.

The reasons are those of the Court; there was no separate or dissenting opinion. The principles stated or confirmed may be summarised as follows: a special costs order requires the two-component opinion described in Sino Iron [No 2] (2017); the appellate benchmark for the uplift in mega-litigation is 50% above the determination maxima; the same basis of recovery should ordinarily apply across appeal and cross-appeal; residual item claims must be particularised; a late application for indemnity costs may be tested summarily for reasonable arguability; and rejected contentions, or judicial criticism of a party's conduct in the events underlying the litigation, do not without more make indemnity costs arguable.

5. Assessing the Consequences: Quantification

The special costs orders operate as ceilings, not entitlements. Each order permits taxation 'by reference to a ceiling of up to 150%' of the relevant maxima (at [47]). The taxing officer retains the function of determining what costs were reasonably incurred and are reasonable in amount; the orders lift the cap within which that assessment occurs. A receiving party must still prove its bill.

The arithmetic of the calibration is simple. Assume, for illustration only, that Table A of the applicable determination fixed senior counsel's maximum daily rate at $9,000. The trial orders would permit taxation of trial work up to $18,000 per day; the appellate orders permit taxation of appeal work up to $13,500 per day; removal of the limits would have left the rate at large, subject only to taxation. In litigation of this scale – where senior counsel command daily rates well above the determination maxima – the difference between the three positions, compounded across counsel fees and solicitors' allowances and across both the appeal and the cross-appeal, will be measured in the hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Three further consequences follow. First, the gap between actual expenditure and recoverable costs in mega-litigation remains substantial by design. Even at 150% of the maxima, a successful party that has litigated at full commercial rates will recover a fraction of its outlay; the Court regarded that restraint as serving the interests of justice rather than as a defect requiring correction (at [43]). Secondly, the trial calibration survives: the Court's disagreement with the trial judge's characterisation was expressly confined to the appeal (at [43]), so the ceiling of double the maxima under Sino Iron [No 15] (S) continues to govern the costs of the proceedings below, while 150% governs the appellate costs. Thirdly, the refusal of programming orders disposed of the indemnity costs application without a separate hearing – itself a saving of costs, and a measure of the Court's unwillingness to add further interlocutory layers to litigation of this kind.

For Mineralogy, the practical outcome was mixed. It obtained special costs orders, but at a lower ceiling than it sought and than the trial orders allowed, confined within the structure of the determinations, applied mutually for the benefit of the CITIC parties on the cross-appeal, and without any prospect of indemnity costs.

6. Worked Example

The following hypothetical illustrates the application of the principles. Suppose a twelve-week Supreme Court trial concerning long-term access and supply agreements for an export facility. The plaintiff succeeds at trial and resists the defendant's appeal; a cross-appeal by the plaintiff on a discrete construction point is dismissed. The appeal books run to 7,000 pages; each side briefs senior and junior counsel; the respondent's actual counsel fees are roughly three times the Table A maxima. The respondent seeks: removal of the Table A and Table B limits; alternatively, a ceiling of double the maxima, matching a special costs order made at trial; an order under the disbursements item covering counsel's interstate travel and accommodation in full; and – by correspondence with the appellant after the appeal reasons are delivered – foreshadows an application for indemnity costs based on the emphatic terms in which the appellant's case was rejected.

The respondent (receiving party)

The respondent's strongest ground is the threshold. On the Sino Iron [No 2] criteria it can establish a fairly arguable case that its bill would tax above the caps: the resources reasonably deployed (multiple counsel, a substantial solicitor team, voluminous materials) significantly exceeded the allowances contemplated by the determinations, and the matter was complex and important within the meaning of s 141(3). The respondent should, however, be advised that removal of the limits is unlikely: Sino Iron [2026] WASCA 71 (S) treats removal as inconsistent with keeping costs within reasonable bounds, and treats 150% as the benchmark (at [43]). The claim to replicate the trial ceiling of double is also vulnerable: the appellate court assesses the appeal, not the trial, and the complexity of an appeal – confined to grounds, conducted on a fixed record – will rarely match that of the trial. The travel claim as framed will fail because the determination makes specific provision for travel expenses; the claim should be routed through that item (at [46]). The indemnity costs proposal must be disclosed to the Court before final orders are sought, and should be supported by identified conduct of the appeal that unnecessarily increased costs – failing which the respondent risks the application being tested for reasonable arguability and dispatched summarily, as Mineralogy's was (at [36]–[38]).

The appellant (paying party)

The appellant's position is to concede the threshold – resistance would lack realism on these facts – and to contest calibration. Its submissions would deploy the comparability reasoning: the dispute, while heavy, is of a kind regularly litigated; its complexity was in part the product of both parties' forensic choices; and the benchmark in JKC Australia LNG and Sino Iron (S) is a 50% uplift (at [43]). It would seek mutuality, so that the cross-appeal costs it recovers are taxed on the same basis (at [40]). On indemnity costs, it would submit that adverse findings, however emphatically expressed, are an ordinary incident of losing, not evidence of unreasonable conduct of the proceeding (at [37]–[38]), and that the respondent's own scale of expenditure deprives an indemnity order of its character as a sanction.

The likely result

On the authority of Sino Iron (S): special costs orders for both the appeal and the cross-appeal at a ceiling of up to 150% of the Table A and Table B maxima; the blanket travel claim refused and left to the specific travel item; and no programming orders for the indemnity application unless the respondent can point to specific conduct of the appeal – not the underlying commercial conduct, and not the mere rejection of arguments – that unnecessarily increased its costs.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The decision yields a framework for practitioners acting in matters where special costs orders, or indemnity costs, will be sought at the conclusion of heavy litigation.

Step 1: File a complete minute, and treat it as exhaustive.

The parties filed competing minutes after receiving an advance copy of the appeal reasons (at [35]). Mineralogy's difficulty arose because its indemnity costs application appeared nowhere in its minute and was raised for the first time after the appeal had been dismissed (at [36]). Every order to be sought – including any application for which programming orders will be needed – should appear in the minute or be disclosed when the minute is filed.

Step 2: Disclose foreshadowed costs applications to the Court, not merely to the opponent.

Correspondence between the parties about a prospective indemnity costs application is not disclosure to the Court. The Court noted that the parties 'had previously corresponded in relation to such application but had not so informed the Court' (at [36]). Late disclosure invites the Court to test arguability on the spot.

Step 3: Before seeking indemnity costs, identify conduct of the proceeding.

An application must rest upon conduct of the litigation that unnecessarily increased its costs. Criticism in the reasons of a party's conduct in the underlying events is not such conduct (at [37]). Nor is the rejection of the party's contentions, however comprehensive. Before advising that an application be made, audit the client's own approach: a party that has itself litigated without reference to cost will find the sanction rationale unavailable (at [38]).

Step 4: Prove the two components of the special costs threshold.

Assemble evidence that there is a fairly arguable case that the bill would tax above the caps – the scale of the record, the number and nature of the issues, the resources reasonably required by comparison with the determination allowances – and connect the inadequacy to the unusual difficulty, complexity or importance of the matter: Sino Iron [No 2] [2017] WASCA 76 (S) [11]–[16], applied at [42]. Proof that more was spent than the scale allows is, without more, insufficient.

Step 5: Calibrate the uplift sought to the 150% benchmark.

Seek more than a 50% uplift only upon genuinely exceptional features, and anticipate comparability reasoning in response: complexity attributable to the parties' own approach will not assist (at [43]). Do not assume that a calibration obtained at trial will be carried into the appeal.

Step 6: Address mutuality where there is a cross-appeal.

The same basis of recovery should ordinarily apply to each costs order (at [40]). A receiving party on one proceeding may be a paying party on the other; mutuality cuts both ways and should be addressed in the minute, not assumed.

Step 7: Particularise residual item claims.

A claim under item 35 ('Other work') must identify the work said not to be covered by the other items (at [45]). Travel and accommodation claims belong under the item that specifically provides for them (at [46]). A claim structured to produce a complete indemnity under a residual item will be refused.

Step 8: Advise the client on net recovery before the costs argument, not after.

Even a successful special costs application leaves a substantial gap between expenditure and recovery. The client's expectations – and any settlement calculus – should be set by reference to a ceiling of 150% of scale, subject to taxation, not by reference to actual outlay.

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

In proceedings raising analogous costs questions, the following evidence and arguments are available.

For the receiving party seeking a special costs order

The evidentiary foundation is the disproportion between the determination allowances and the resources the matter reasonably required. Relevant materials include the length of the trial and appeal; the volume of the record (in Sino Iron, 9,600 pages of appeal books (at [15])); the number of grounds and any notices of contention; the size and seniority of the legal teams on both sides; the amounts and interests at stake; and any prior special costs orders in the same litigation. The paying party's own resourcing is a forceful point: a party that itself briefed multiple senior counsel cannot easily contend that the matter was within the usual run of civil cases. Importance need not be 'unusual' – that adjective qualifies difficulty alone – so a matter of substantial commercial or public importance may qualify even if not novel.

On calibration, the receiving party may argue for more than 150% only by distinguishing the benchmark authorities – for example, by demonstrating dimensions of difficulty not attributable to the parties' own conduct, such as intractable subject matter requiring specialised expertise, or procedural complexity imposed by circumstances rather than chosen.

For the paying party

The paying party's arguments are supplied by the decision itself: the complexity of heavy commercial litigation is frequently 'wrought by the approach taken by the parties' (at [43]); the benchmark is a 50% uplift, applied in JKC Australia LNG and endorsed in Sino Iron (S); ceilings preserve the taxing officer's scrutiny; the interests of justice favour keeping recovery within reasonable bounds; and any residual item claim should be tested for particularity (at [45]–[46]). Where the receiving party seeks to export a trial calibration to the appeal, the paying party should emphasise the confined character of appellate proceedings.

On indemnity costs

A party seeking indemnity costs in mega-litigation must identify discrete conduct of the proceeding – persistence in hopeless points after their futility was exposed, late abandonment of grounds, duplication, or misuse of interlocutory process – and should be able to show that its own conduct of the litigation was cost-conscious. The party resisting will rely upon the structural point in the 2022 costs decision, applied at [38]: where both parties litigate without reference to cost, the comparison that grounds an indemnity order cannot sensibly be made, and the order would function as endorsement rather than sanction. The resisting party will also separate judicial criticism of the underlying events from criticism of the conduct of the proceeding (at [37]).

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1.      The benchmark uplift for special costs orders in mega-litigation is 50%. The Court fixed counsel and solicitor recovery at a ceiling of up to 150% of the determination maxima, consistent with JKC Australia LNG [No 2] [2020] WASCA 112 (S), rejecting both the removal of the limits and a doubling (at [41]–[44]).

2.      The special costs threshold remains the two-component opinion. There must be a fairly arguable case that the bill would tax above the cap, and the inadequacy must arise from the unusual difficulty, complexity or importance of the matter: Sino Iron [No 2] [2017] WASCA 76 (S) [11]–[16], applied at [42].

3.      Special costs orders are ceilings, not entitlements. The orders permit taxation 'by reference to a ceiling of up to 150%'; reasonableness remains a matter for the taxing officer (at [47]).

4.      A trial calibration does not carry into the appeal. The Court disagreed with the characterisation that had supported a ceiling of double the maxima at trial, 'at least as far as the appeal was concerned' (at [43]).

5.      Mutuality is the default where an appeal and cross-appeal are dismissed together. The same basis of recovery applied to both costs orders (at [40]).

6.      A late indemnity costs application will be screened for reasonable arguability. The Court heard counsel on the basis for the proposed application and disposed of it summarily rather than making programming orders (at [36]–[38]).

7.      Rejected contentions and criticism of conduct in the underlying events do not ground indemnity costs. The relevant conduct is the conduct of the proceeding itself (at [37]).

8.      Litigating without reference to cost forfeits the sanction logic of indemnity costs. An indemnity order in such litigation risks lending the Court's imprimatur to that approach: Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [2022] WASC 151 [44]–[45], applied at [38].

9.      Residual item claims must be particularised and structurally coherent. Item 35 requires identified 'Other work'; travel and accommodation belong under the item making specific provision for travel (at [45]–[46]).

10.  Costs orders are an instrument of litigation discipline. The interests of justice include the need to keep the costs of litigation generally within reasonable bounds (at [43]). Practitioners should expect Western Australian courts to express that value through the calibration of special costs orders rather than through indemnity awards in heavy commercial matters.

10. Conclusion

Sino Iron Pty Ltd v Mineralogy Pty Ltd [2026] WASCA 71 (S) is a compact and deliberate statement of how the Court of Appeal will approach costs at the conclusion of the State's heaviest commercial litigation. The Court confirmed the orthodox threshold for special costs orders, fixed the uplift at the appellate benchmark of 150% of the determination maxima, applied that basis mutually across the appeal and cross-appeal, declined to allow the residual items of the determinations to be used as instruments of indemnity recovery, and screened out a late indemnity costs application as not reasonably arguable.

The through-line is institutional. Costs orders are not merely compensatory machinery; they express the Court's view of how litigation ought to be conducted. Parties who choose to litigate at any expense should understand that the costs jurisdiction will not underwrite that choice – neither through uncapped special costs orders nor through indemnity awards. For practitioners, the working rules are short: prove inadequacy properly; expect 150%; particularise item claims; disclose every application before final orders are made; and treat indemnity costs, in litigation of this kind, as exceptional in fact as well as in name.

The calibration adopted in this decision – generous enough to acknowledge genuine complexity, restrained enough to withhold endorsement of unconstrained expenditure – is likely to serve as the reference point for special costs orders in Western Australian mega-litigation for some time.

Unmasking Anonymous Online Defamers: The Evidentiary and Strategic Traps in Pre-Action Discovery

1.  Introduction

A person defamed by an anonymous account on social media faces a threshold problem before any claim can be brought: they do not know whom to sue. The Rules of the Supreme Court 1971 (WA) (RSC) provide a mechanism to overcome that problem. Order 26A r 3 empowers the Court to order a non-party to give discovery, or to be examined, for the purpose of identifying a prospective defendant. The decision of Master Russell in Jalagge v Arachchilage [2026] WASC 202 is a salutary illustration of how an application of that kind can fail — not on the merits of the underlying defamation, but on the rigour of the evidence advanced in support and the choice of the person against whom the order is sought.

The plaintiff sought to identify anonymous members of a private Facebook group who had posted comments he said were defamatory. The application was dismissed in its entirety. It failed at the first jurisdictional hurdle because the plaintiff did not prove, on admissible evidence, that he wanted to commence proceedings; it would have failed on two further jurisdictional conditions; and, in any event, the Court would have declined to exercise its discretion because the orders would have achieved nothing. The plaintiff was ordered to pay the defendant's costs.

The decision is of immediate practical interest to defamation practitioners in Western Australia and, more broadly, to any practitioner who litigates against anonymous or pseudonymous online actors. It is a chambers decision of a Master, and turns on its own facts, but the principles it applies are well established and the errors it exposes are common ones. The case is best read as a checklist of the ways in which an otherwise meritorious application to unmask an online troll can be lost through avoidable defects in preparation.

2.  The Relevant Legal Framework

Order 26A r 3 of the RSC applies where a person who appears to have a cause of action against another (the potential party) wants to commence or take proceedings against that person, but, after reasonable enquiries, has been unable to ascertain a description of the potential party sufficient for that purpose. Where there are reasonable grounds for believing that another person (the non-party) had, has, or is likely to have had or to have, possession of information, documents or an object that may assist in ascertaining the description of the potential party, the applicant may apply for an order. On the application the Court may order the non-party to give discovery of documents relating to the description of the potential party, or to attend Court to be examined, or both.

The conditions that must be satisfied to enliven the power are well settled. Master Russell adopted the summary given by Quinlan CJ in Reynolds v Higgins [2024] WASC 260 (the Reynolds Discovery Reasons), which in turn drew on The Hancock Family Memorial Foundation Ltd v Fieldhouse [No 2] [2008] WASC 147 (Le Miere J) and NW v Bechtel (Western Australia) Pty Ltd [2014] WASC 375 (Master Sanderson). An applicant must establish that: (a) it wants to commence proceedings against the potential party; (b) it has made reasonable enquiries to ascertain a sufficient description of the potential party; (c) it has been unable to do so; and (d) there are reasonable grounds for believing the non-party had, has, or is likely to have, possession of information or documents that may assist (at [31]).

A further criterion is that the applicant must appear to have a cause of action against the potential party. As Le Miere J explained in Hancock, an order will not be made unless it would be reasonable for the applicant to bring the contemplated proceeding. A prima facie case need not be shown — indeed, in NW v Bechtel Master Sanderson observed that it is not even necessary to establish a serious question to be tried — but there must be some indication of a cause of action, and an order will not be made where the prospective action is merely speculative, or where there is a defence that must succeed (at [32]–[33]).

Even where the jurisdictional conditions are satisfied, the order is discretionary. The applicant must show that the order is necessary in the interests of justice, in the sense of being necessary to provide an effective remedy in respect of the actionable wrong complained of: John Fairfax & Sons Ltd v Cojuangco (1988) 165 CLR 346, 357; Hooper v Kirella (1999) 96 FCR 1. The utility of making the orders is itself a relevant discretionary consideration (at [34]).

Two procedural rules sit behind the case and warrant emphasis because the application turned on them. Order 37 r 6(1) requires an affidavit to be confined to facts the deponent can prove of their own knowledge. Order 37 r 6(2)(c) permits statements of information or belief in affidavits for interlocutory proceedings; but Order 37 r 6(3A) requires such an affidavit to set out the sources or grounds of the information or belief. The importance of that requirement has been emphasised repeatedly: Antz Inya Pantz Coffee Company Pty Ltd v Muhl [2023] WASC 320 (Howard J), Westpoint Management Pty Ltd v Goakes [2002] WASCA 317 (Wheeler JA), and Blythe v Western Australia [2008] WASCA 10 (Pullin and Buss JJA).

3.  The Facts

The plaintiff, Dr Roshana Chularatne Neelagama Jalagge, described himself as a businessman in the aged care sector and, until June 2025, was Honorary Consul for Sri Lanka (at [1]). The defendant, Gayan Weerasooriya Arachchilage, was the administrator — on a voluntary basis, for the benefit of the Sri Lankan community in Perth — of a private Facebook group known as ‘Sri Lankans in Perth’ (the Facebook Group) (at [2]).

Between 24 and 29 June 2025, various comments were made on a post in the Facebook Group, including by anonymous members. The plaintiff did not take issue with the initial post, made on 24 June 2025 by an anonymous member whom the defendant had identified and said was known to the plaintiff; his complaint concerned certain of the comments on it. Most of the material was written in Sinhalese and was translated into English by an accredited (NAATI) translator, whose evidence was not challenged (at [10]–[13]).

On about 29 June 2025, shortly after the comments were posted, the defendant deleted the post from the Facebook Group. He deposed that, upon deletion, all the comments — including the names of the anonymous users who had posted them — were automatically deleted, and that even as administrator he could no longer see the post or comments. Before deleting the post, however, he had taken screenshots of comments by anonymous posters 238, 372 and 385, because he knew those individuals (at [20]–[21]).

By letter of demand dated 11 July 2025, the plaintiff's solicitor required the defendant to provide information sufficient to identify the anonymous members within 14 days, failing which proceedings would be commenced seeking an order under O 26A r 3. The defendant's solicitor replied that the terms of the Facebook Group prevented voluntary disclosure, but that the defendant would not oppose a properly made application provided his reasonable legal and compliance costs were met. The reply also explained that the relevant post had been deleted, so the defendant no longer had the information sought, and suggested that any application might more appropriately be directed at Meta Platforms Inc (Meta), the operator of Facebook (at [15]–[19]).

The plaintiff's solicitor, by reference to Meta's Help Center, suggested the defendant could use the group's activity log to recover the deleted post. The defendant deposed that he had followed those steps but could recover nothing. The plaintiff's own submissions acknowledged a 30-day window from deletion within which a post might be recoverable. The affidavit annexing the recovery instructions was served on 21 August 2025 — 53 days after deletion, and 23 days after the expiry of that window (at [22], [70]–[72]).

On 12 September 2025 the defendant provided the plaintiff with the screenshots of anonymous members 238, 372 and 385, together with a screenshot identifying the author of the original post, and reaffirmed that he held no further documents and could not recall the names of any other anonymous members (at [23]–[24]). By the time of hearing, the plaintiff pressed for discovery in respect of eleven anonymous members (385, 661, 372, 449, 754, 727, 567, 203, 859, 993 and 361) and no longer sought to examine the defendant (at [27]–[28]).

4.  The Court's Reasoning

The application failed at the first jurisdictional condition

The Court's central holding was that the plaintiff had not demonstrated, on admissible evidence, that he wanted to commence proceedings against the anonymous members — the very first condition in O 26A r 3(1)(a). The plaintiff had sworn an affidavit himself, yet nowhere in it did he depose that he wanted to commence proceedings; he stated only that the application related to ‘the smearing of my reputations’ (at [44]–[46], [59]).

The intention to sue appeared only in the affidavit of the plaintiff's solicitor, Mr Kwan, who deposed that ‘[t]he Applicant will commence a defamation suit against the persons (once identified)’. The defendant objected that this was an inadmissible conclusion that failed to comply with O 37 r 6(3A), because it did not state the source or grounds of the information or belief. Master Russell upheld the objection (at [47]–[49], [56]). Mr Kwan had not deposed that he was informed by the plaintiff, and believed, that the plaintiff wanted to commence proceedings; he had merely asserted, as a conclusion, that a suit ‘will’ be commenced (at [56], [59]).

Master Russell drew on Howard J's observation in Antz Inya Pantz that, because cross-examination on interlocutory affidavits is uncommon, the requirement to state sources or grounds is important: it allows the opposing party to assess what evidence to adduce in reply, and allows the Court to assess the cogency and reliability of the deponent's statements, guarding against an affidavit becoming an ‘ipse dixit exercise’ (at [57]). The same point had been made by Wheeler JA in Westpoint v Goakes: the requirement reveals the original source of hearsay, affords an opponent the opportunity to challenge it, and is ‘not … a requirement of the Rules which may be ignored’ (at [58]).

The plaintiff's submission that the Court should infer the intention to sue from the letter of demand was rejected. No affidavit even annexed that letter; the copy in evidence was exhibited by the defendant, and although it asserted a claim and demanded disclosure, it did not state that the plaintiff wanted to commence proceedings. The intention to commence is ‘a fundamental requirement’, clearly expressed in r 3(1)(a), and ‘not something the court should be left to infer’ (at [53]–[54], [60]). The condition not being established, the power was not enlivened and the application fell to be dismissed (at [61]–[62]).

The further jurisdictional conditions would also have failed

Master Russell went on to hold that, even had the first condition been met, the application would have failed on others (at [63]).

Reasonable enquiries (condition (b)). The only enquiry shown was the demand made of the defendant. There was no evidence of any enquiry of Meta, which — as the operator of the platform — would most likely hold the names, addresses and IP addresses of its users. In the Court's experience, applications to identify users of an internet platform are generally made against the operator. An enquiry of Meta would have been a reasonable step, and the plaintiff's failure to make it meant the condition was not satisfied (at [64]–[68]).

Possession by the non-party (condition (d)). While there were reasonable grounds to believe the defendant had once held information that might assist, his unchallenged evidence was that he could no longer access it: the post and its comments had been deleted, automatically removing the names, and the 30-day recovery window had long expired before the recovery instructions were even served on him (at [69]–[75]).

Cause of action: only some posts were arguably defamatory

Applying the low threshold appropriate to such an application, and declining to republish the impugned posts, Master Russell considered each comment individually. He accepted that, for the purpose of the application, it was arguable that the posts of anonymous members 372, 727, 754 and 993, and the second of two posts by member 859, might convey a defamatory imputation. For the remainder (385, 661, 449, 567, 203, 361 and the first post of 859), no defamatory imputation was apparent (at [81]–[95]). The Court was therefore not satisfied that it would be reasonable for the plaintiff to bring proceedings against all of the members listed (at [94]).

Discretion and utility

For completeness, the Court addressed discretion. The defendant had already provided everything he held — the screenshots of members 238, 372 and 385 — and the plaintiff no longer sought member 238. An order would not assist the plaintiff in ascertaining a sufficient description of the anonymous members and would only increase costs. There was, accordingly, no utility in making the orders (at [97]–[99]).

Finally, the Court rejected the submission that refusing the orders would ‘send a message’ that people may post defamatory comments and then delete them. Each case is to be decided on its own merits, on its facts and on the established principles (at [35]–[36]). The application was dismissed and the plaintiff ordered to pay the defendant's costs, to be taxed if not agreed (at [100]–[102]).

5.  The Practical Consequences

The most tangible consequence in this case was an adverse costs order against a plaintiff who never reached the merits of his complaint. The application was defeated by the form of the evidence and the choice of respondent, not by any finding that the comments were not defamatory — indeed, the Court accepted that several of them arguably were.

That outcome carries a broader lesson about cost and sequencing. The defendant had, from the outset, indicated he would not oppose a properly made application if his reasonable costs were met, and had suggested Meta as the appropriate target. A plaintiff who had (i) put the intention to sue in admissible form, and (ii) directed the application — or at least a prior enquiry — to Meta, may well have obtained useful information at modest cost. Instead, the plaintiff pursued a volunteer administrator who had already deleted the material, and recovered nothing while incurring both his own costs and a liability for the defendant's.

There is also a practical consequence flowing from the ‘utility’ analysis that is peculiar to ephemeral online content. Where the material has been deleted and cannot be recovered, an order for discovery against the person who deleted it is futile: one cannot give discovery of what one no longer possesses. The window for recovery — here, 30 days from deletion — is short. The case demonstrates that delay between the publication complained of and the steps taken to preserve or obtain the evidence can itself be fatal to the application.

6.  A Worked Example

Consider a hypothetical. A medical practitioner, Dr A, discovers that several pseudonymous accounts on an online review platform and in a private community forum have posted comments accusing her of malpractice. She instructs solicitors to identify the authors so that she can sue them in defamation.

The applicant's perspective

To enliven O 26A r 3, Dr A's solicitors must build the application around the four conditions and the cause-of-action criterion. First, Dr A herself should swear an affidavit deposing, in terms, that she wants to commence defamation proceedings against the authors once identified — not merely that her reputation has been damaged. Second, the affidavits must set out the enquiries actually made: a request to the forum administrator, a request to the platform operator, reverse-image or username searches, and any response received. Third, they must show those enquiries have not yielded a sufficient description. Fourth, they must establish reasonable grounds for believing the respondent presently holds information that may assist — for the platform operator, by reference to its data-retention practices; for an individual administrator, by evidence that the material still exists and is accessible. Finally, the impugned publications, properly translated if necessary, must be exhibited and analysed post by post, so the Court can see that each contemplated defendant is the author of a publication that is at least arguably defamatory of Dr A.

The respondent's perspective

A respondent forum operator who wishes to resist will scrutinise the affidavits for non-compliance with O 37 r 6: is the intention to sue deposed to by the applicant, or merely asserted as a conclusion by the solicitor without sources or grounds? It will test whether reasonable enquiries were in fact made, or whether the applicant has simply demanded disclosure without exploring other avenues. It will put on evidence that it does not hold, or can no longer access, the information sought — and, if the material has been deleted, that any order would be futile. And it will examine each publication to argue that some or all are not capable of a defamatory meaning, narrowing the field of legitimate targets. As Jalagge shows, success on any one of these points may defeat the application or, at least, confine it.

7.  Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

Step 1 — Identify the correct respondent before anything else. Ask who actually holds identifying information — name, email, registration data, IP address. For content on a major platform, that is ordinarily the platform operator (here, Meta), not a volunteer group administrator. The Court regarded an enquiry of the operator as a reasonable step the plaintiff ought to have taken (at [67]–[68]).

Step 2 — Act quickly to preserve evidence. Online content is ephemeral. Recovery windows are short — 30 days from deletion in this case (at [71]). Send preservation requests and gather screenshots immediately, before material is removed and identities are lost (at [69]–[72]).

Step 3 — Have the applicant — not just the solicitor — depose to the intention to sue. The intention to commence proceedings is a fundamental jurisdictional requirement under r 3(1)(a) and must be proved by admissible evidence. The cleanest course is for the applicant personally to swear that they want to commence proceedings against the potential parties once identified (at [44]–[46], [59]–[60]).

Step 4 — Comply strictly with O 37 r 6 on every statement of information or belief. If a solicitor deposes to a matter on information and belief, the affidavit must state the source and the grounds. A bare conclusion that a suit ‘will’ be commenced, without sources or grounds, is inadmissible (at [47]–[58]).

Step 5 — Document the reasonable enquiries you have made. Set out, in evidence, each enquiry undertaken to ascertain a description of the potential party, and the result. A demand made only of the proposed respondent, with no other enquiry, will not satisfy the condition (at [64]–[68]).

Step 6 — Prove the respondent presently holds — or can access — the information. It is not enough that the respondent once held it. Lead evidence that the material still exists and is accessible. If the respondent's unchallenged evidence is that it has been deleted and cannot be recovered, condition (d) will not be satisfied (at [69]–[75]).

Step 7 — Plead and exhibit the publications post by post. The Court assesses the cause-of-action criterion against each contemplated defendant individually. Identify each publication, exhibit it (with translation where needed), and articulate the arguable defamatory imputation. Posts that are vague, or directed at someone else, will not support an order (at [80]–[93]).

Step 8 —  Confront the question of utility candidly. Before applying, ask what the order will actually yield. If the respondent has already disclosed everything held, or cannot recover the material, the order will be refused as lacking utility and will only add to costs (at [97]–[99]).

8.  Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

For the applicant

The applicant's evidentiary case should comprise: a personal affidavit deposing to the wish to commence proceedings; a detailed account of the enquiries made, exhibiting the correspondence; the impugned publications, exhibited and translated; and evidence going to the respondent's present possession of identifying material (for a platform, its data-retention and disclosure practices). On the law, the applicant can press the low threshold for the cause-of-action criterion — no prima facie case, not even a serious question to be tried (at [33]) — and the interests-of-justice rationale that pre-action discovery exists precisely to give victims of anonymous wrongs an effective remedy (John Fairfax v Cojuangco; Hooper v Kirella).

For the respondent

A respondent's most powerful arguments are often technical and jurisdictional rather than substantive. It can attack the affidavits for non-compliance with O 37 r 6, as the defendant successfully did here. It can demonstrate that reasonable enquiries were not exhausted — in particular, that the platform operator was never approached. It can prove that it does not hold, or can no longer access, the information, rendering any order futile. And it can analyse each publication to show that some convey no defamatory imputation, or are directed at a third party, confining or defeating the application. A respondent who behaves reasonably — disclosing what it holds and offering not to oppose a properly constituted application — also strengthens its position on costs, as Jalagge illustrates.

9.  Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1. Sue the platform, not the volunteer. Direct pre-action discovery at the entity that actually holds identifying data — ordinarily the platform operator — and make an enquiry of it before applying against anyone else (at [67]–[68]).

2. The applicant's own intention to sue must be in evidence. It is a fundamental jurisdictional condition and must not be left to inference or to a solicitor's bare conclusion (at [60]).

3. Order 37 r 6 is not a formality. Every statement of information or belief in an interlocutory affidavit must state its source and grounds, or it may be struck out (at [56]–[58]).

4. Reasonable enquiries must be proved, not assumed. A demand made only of the proposed respondent is not enough; the Court will not infer that other enquiries were made (at [64]–[65]).

5. Present possession is essential. Discovery cannot be ordered of material the respondent no longer holds or can access; deleted online content with an expired recovery window is beyond reach (at [69]–[75]).

6. Speed preserves rights. Recovery windows for deleted content are short. Delay in seeking preservation or discovery can extinguish the very evidence the application depends upon (at [71]–[72]).

7. The cause-of-action threshold is low but real, and is assessed post by post. Each contemplated defendant must be the author of an at-least-arguably defamatory publication; vague or misdirected posts will not support an order (at [80]–[94]).

8. Utility can defeat an otherwise sound application. If the order will yield nothing, it will be refused regardless of the merits, and the applicant will bear the costs (at [97]–[99]).

9. Reasonable conduct shapes costs. A respondent who discloses what it holds and offers not to oppose a properly made application is well placed on costs; an applicant who presses a futile application against the wrong party is exposed to them (at [18], [101]).

10.  Conclusion

Jalagge v Arachchilage does not change the law of pre-action discovery; it applies settled principles to an everyday problem. Its significance lies in the clarity with which it shows how such applications are won or lost. The substantive complaint — that anonymous accounts had defamed the plaintiff — was, in part, arguable. But the application foundered on matters of preparation and strategy: an intention to sue that was never properly proved, enquiries that were never made of the obvious respondent, and evidence sought from a person who no longer held it.

For practitioners, the core message is that the unmasking of an anonymous online defamer is an exercise in evidentiary discipline and tactical sequencing as much as in defamation law. Identify who actually holds the data and approach them first; move quickly to preserve ephemeral content; put the client's intention to sue in admissible form; comply scrupulously with the affidavit rules; document every reasonable enquiry; and ask, before applying, whether the order will achieve anything at all. An application that satisfies those requirements stands a real prospect of success. One that does not is liable to be dismissed with costs, leaving the wrong undisturbed and the client worse off than before.

When the Tribunal Will Not Tolerate Misconceived Guardianship Applications: Section 47 SAT Act and the Limits of the Capacity Jurisdiction

An Analysis of CR [2026] WASAT 53

1. Introduction

In CR [2026] WASAT 53, Member Bunney dismissed an application for guardianship and administration orders on the Tribunal’s own initiative under s 47(2) of the State Administrative Tribunal Act 2004 (WA) on the basis that the application was both misconceived and lacking in substance.

The judgment is a reminder that the statutory presumption of capacity is not a presumption to be lightly displaced, and that the Tribunal’s guardianship jurisdiction is not to be enlisted as a forum for marital disputes, property arguments or familial disappointment with the autonomous decisions of an adult who continues to enjoy decision-making capacity. Where an applicant declines to withdraw an application that cannot succeed on the medical evidence, the Tribunal is willing to exercise its summary dismissal power.

The decision affects practitioners advising in guardianship and administration matters, family lawyers approached about a separating spouse who is in poor physical health, estate planners administering enduring powers of attorney and enduring powers of guardianship, and any practitioner asked to act for or against an applicant who is animated by something other than a genuine concern about decision-making capacity. The case warrants attention because it confirms, in clear and uncompromising terms, that the Tribunal will discharge its protective function by protecting the proposed represented person from the application itself.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

The presumption of capacity

Section 4(3) of the Guardianship and Administration Act 1990 (WA) (GA Act) provides that every person is presumed to be capable of looking after their own health and safety, making reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to their person, managing their own affairs, and making reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to their estate, until the contrary is proved to the satisfaction of the Tribunal. Section 4(2) requires the Tribunal to treat the best interests of the proposed represented person as its primary concern, and s 4(7) requires the Tribunal to ascertain the views and wishes of that person so far as is possible.

The presumption is rebuttable, but the standard of proof reflects the seriousness of the consequences. As Member Bunney noted at [9], drawing on the Full Tribunal’s reasoning in GC and PC [2014] WASAT 10, the presumption is a fundamental principle of the GA Act and clear and cogent evidence is required to set it aside. The familiar Briginshaw standard applies: see Briginshaw v Briginshaw (1938) 60 CLR 336.

The statutory thresholds

For an administration order, s 64(1) requires the Tribunal to be satisfied that the person is unable, by reason of a mental disability, to make reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to all or part of their estate. For a guardianship order, s 43(1) requires the Tribunal to be satisfied that the person is incapable of looking after their own health and safety, or unable to make reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to their person, or in need of oversight, care or control in the interests of their own health and safety or for the protection of others.

Both thresholds are evidentiary thresholds, not conclusions to be drawn from the applicant’s subjective disagreement with the decisions the proposed represented person has made.

The summary dismissal power

Section 47 of the State Administrative Tribunal Act 2004 (WA) (SAT Act) authorises the Tribunal to dismiss or strike out a proceeding that is frivolous, vexatious, misconceived or lacking in substance, that is being used for an improper purpose, or that is otherwise an abuse of process. Subsection (3) imposes a procedural safeguard: the power may be exercised only by a legally qualified member. Subsection (4) permits the Tribunal to act on the application of a party or on its own initiative.

The meaning of ‘misconceived’ and ‘lacking in substance’ was settled before the Tribunal in Laurent and Commissioner of Police [2009] WASAT 254; (2009) 68 SR (WA) 165 at [23], drawing on State Electricity Commission of Victoria v Rabel [1998] 1 VR 102 at 108–109 (Ormiston JA). A misconceived proceeding is one premised on a misunderstanding of legal principle. A proceeding lacking in substance is one that, after careful consideration, has no realistic prospect of success: Ambrus and Churches of Christ Homes & Community Services Incorporated [2006] WASAT 141 at [44] (Chaney J).

3. The Facts of the Case

The proposed represented person and the applicant

CR is a 69-year-old woman with eight adult daughters and a 28-year marriage to her second husband, HU. She has a history of strokes and aneurysms and lives with significant physical health issues. At the time the application was filed, CR was an inpatient at Hospital A (at [1]).

CR’s decisions in January 2026

CR decided that she would not return to live with HU and that she wished to separate from him and move into residential aged care (at [2]). In late January 2026, she executed an enduring power of attorney and an enduring power of guardianship, appointing her third eldest daughter, D3, in both roles (at [2]). The enduring power of attorney was witnessed by a doctor (at [14]).

HU’s application

When HU learned of CR’s decision to separate, he filed an application under s 40 of the GA Act seeking guardianship and administration orders over CR (at [3]). The application was framed around HU’s concerns about what he described as the sudden and significant change in CR’s expressed wishes and her vulnerability to influence. HU, together with the daughter he shares with CR (SS), wanted CR to return home with NDIS supports in place (at [3]).

The directions hearing

In late February 2026, a Senior Member of the Tribunal convened a directions hearing to consider the application and CR’s medical evidence, which confirmed that CR had capacity (at [4]). The Senior Member explained the medical evidence to HU and invited him to withdraw the application. HU declined: in his view, CR’s unwillingness to see him itself demonstrated incapacity (at [5]).

The Senior Member listed the matter for final hearing on 12 May 2026, referred it to the Office of the Public Advocate for investigation, and directed that the matter be considered under s 47 of the SAT Act in light of HU’s refusal to withdraw despite the medical evidence (at [6]).

The medical evidence

Dr W, CR’s treating doctor at Hospital A, prepared a medical report dated 5 February 2026. The report stated that CR had no medical condition that would cause a mental disability and that, in Dr W’s opinion, CR had capacity to make decisions about her personal, financial and legal matters, including capacity to execute the enduring power of attorney and enduring power of guardianship (at [16]). Ms B, the social worker from Hospital A, confirmed that the treating team was satisfied that CR retained information from previous meetings and that there were no concerns about her recall (at [17]).

The Public Advocate’s investigation

The investigator from the Office of the Public Advocate met with CR and reported that CR did not wish to remain married to HU, was strongly opposed to HU being appointed as her decision-maker, and wanted her trusted daughters to support her separation and the planning of her discharge into residential aged care (at [13]). The investigator was satisfied that CR’s expressed views were her genuine views, and not the product of any influence by any other party (at [14]). The investigator inspected the enduring power of attorney and the enduring power of guardianship and verified that they were correctly executed (at [14]).

HU’s evolving position

After the directions hearing, HU acknowledged to the investigator that he understood CR had capacity, but he did not believe D3 was the best person to manage CR’s affairs and considered that an independent party would be better placed to assist in splitting the parties’ assets (at [18]). HU also acknowledged that, during their marriage, he had made all of the decisions for CR and had managed their money (at [18]).

At the final hearing on 12 May 2026, HU confirmed his intention to press the application. His stated concern was that D3 had moved money out of joint accounts and he wanted someone to oversee her actions to ensure they were correct (at [19]). Member Bunney explained that this was not a function the Tribunal performs in a guardianship or administration application (at [19]). The investigator had earlier advised the parties that the Tribunal is not the correct jurisdiction to address concerns of that kind (at [20]).

The family’s position

Save for HU, all family members who attended the hearing agreed that the matter should be dismissed and that CR could make her own decisions (at [15]).

4. Analysis of the Court’s Reasoning

The presumption was not displaced

The Tribunal’s reasoning proceeded from first principles. At [7]–[12], Member Bunney set out the statutory framework and the Full Tribunal’s reasoning in GC and PC. Three features of the analysis are worth noting.

First, the medical evidence was unequivocal. Dr W’s report directly addressed the statutory threshold by stating both that CR had no medical condition giving rise to a mental disability and that she had capacity to make decisions across the relevant domains (at [16]). The report addressed the very question the Tribunal was required to determine.

Second, the corroborating evidence was overwhelming. The social worker confirmed that CR retained information (at [17]). The investigator from the Office of the Public Advocate verified the proper execution of the enduring documents and was satisfied that CR’s expressed views were her genuine views (at [14]). The remainder of the family agreed that CR could make her own decisions (at [15]).

Third, HU’s answer to the medical evidence — that the very fact CR did not wish to see him demonstrated incapacity (at [5]) — inverted the presumption. It treated CR’s exercise of autonomous decision-making as itself the proof of its absence. The Tribunal correctly identified that this reasoning misconceives the operation of s 4(3) and the Briginshaw standard that applies to its displacement.

The application was misconceived

At [26], Member Bunney found that HU had misunderstood the legal principles applicable to an application for guardianship or administration. That misunderstanding manifested in two distinct ways. First, HU did not accept that the presumption of capacity required clear and cogent evidence to set aside. Second, HU appeared to treat the Tribunal’s guardianship jurisdiction as a forum within which the division of matrimonial assets could be supervised. Both propositions are wrong as a matter of law, and a proceeding founded on either is properly described as misconceived in the sense recognised by Ormiston JA in State Electricity Commission of Victoria v Rabel and adopted in Laurent.

The application lacked substance

At [27], Member Bunney found that the application was also lacking in substance because HU’s position was untenable in law and could not succeed. This is a separate, although overlapping, basis for dismissal. The medical evidence was clear; the corroborating evidence was uniform; and the issues HU genuinely wished to ventilate were jurisdictionally beyond the Tribunal. The application disclosed no realistic prospect of success within the meaning of Chaney J’s formulation in Ambrus.

The jurisdictional boundary on property division

The Tribunal’s treatment of HU’s concerns about the joint accounts is significant. Member Bunney told HU in plain terms that the Tribunal does not perform an oversight role in respect of the actions of an enduring attorney as part of a guardianship or administration application (at [19]). The investigator had already conveyed the same message regarding division of marital property (at [20]). The decision underscores that a dispute about who should hold or manage assets between separating spouses is not converted into a capacity question simply because one of the parties is in hospital or has health concerns.

The role of s 47(3)

The procedural feature of s 47(3) — that the summary dismissal power is exercisable only by a legally qualified member — was satisfied by the matter being heard by Member Bunney, who is a legally qualified member of the Tribunal. The Senior Member at the directions hearing had explicitly programmed the matter into the s 47 path (at [6]), with the legally qualified member exercising the power at the final hearing.

5. Practical Consequences

The decision has consequences for several constituencies.

Consequences for proposed proposed represented persons

The decision reinforces the protective character of the Tribunal’s jurisdiction. Where an application is misconceived, the Tribunal’s protective function is discharged by terminating the application rather than by entertaining it. The proposed represented person is not required to endure a contested hearing in which their decision-making capacity is scrutinised when the medical evidence and the investigator’s report demonstrate that the threshold cannot be met.

Consequences for applicants

Applicants who decline an invitation to withdraw should be in no doubt that the application can be dismissed without any concession on their part. The decision does not address costs, and there is no general costs jurisdiction in the SAT in proceedings of this nature; nevertheless, the prospect of public dismissal under s 47, and the categorisation of the application as misconceived and lacking in substance, may itself be a deterrent.

Consequences for practitioners

A practitioner instructed by an applicant who is dissatisfied with the autonomous decisions of an adult who has been medically assessed as having capacity must advise candidly about the prospect of summary dismissal. The advice must distinguish between three categories of concern: a concern about capacity (which is a question for the Tribunal on appropriate medical evidence), a concern about how an attorney is exercising their power (which may be raised under the GA Act but on a different statutory basis), and a concern about the division of matrimonial property (which is for the Family Court of Western Australia).

Consequences for the Tribunal and the Office of the Public Advocate

The Public Advocate’s investigation in this matter was substantial. The investigator interviewed CR, satisfied herself as to genuineness of views and absence of influence, and inspected the enduring documents. The judgment indirectly underscores that misconceived applications absorb investigator time, hearing time and Tribunal resources that would otherwise be deployed in matters where capacity is genuinely in issue.

6. Worked Example

Consider the following hypothetical. MR is an 80-year-old woman with mild Parkinson’s disease and a longstanding hip condition. She has been married to NR for forty-five years. After a fall, she is admitted to hospital. While in hospital, MR decides she does not wish to return home to NR. She signs an enduring power of attorney appointing her daughter, EL, and tells the hospital social worker that she would like to be discharged to live with EL until alternative accommodation can be arranged. Her treating geriatrician’s report records that her cognition is intact and that she has capacity for personal, financial and legal decisions.

NR is shocked. He files an application for guardianship and administration. His concerns are framed as concerns about MR’s vulnerability, the suddenness of her change of mind, and his belief that EL has been pressuring MR. He also believes EL has improperly accessed a joint account.

Analysis from MR’s perspective

MR’s capacity is supported by clear and unequivocal medical evidence. The presumption of capacity is not displaced. The investigator’s task will be to satisfy herself that MR’s views are her own. If the investigator is satisfied of that, then, on the authority of CR, MR may apply, or the Tribunal may act on its own initiative, to have the application dismissed under s 47(2). MR’s solicitor should write to the applicant at the earliest opportunity inviting withdrawal and putting the applicant on notice that, if the application is not withdrawn, s 47 will be raised.

Analysis from NR’s perspective

NR’s solicitor must advise that, on the medical evidence, the application cannot succeed. The remedy for any concern about EL’s use of the joint account lies elsewhere: NR can take steps in the Family Court of Western Australia for property orders, and may take steps to recover any unauthorised withdrawals through the ordinary processes available between separating spouses. Concerns about an attorney’s exercise of power may, in appropriate circumstances, be raised with the Tribunal on a different statutory basis. Pressing the guardianship application in its current form is likely to result in dismissal, and NR must be advised accordingly.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

When asked to advise in relation to a guardianship or administration application where capacity may be contested, practitioners should consider the following steps.

Step 1: Identify the real concern. Take detailed instructions and identify what the applicant truly wishes the Tribunal to address. A concern about capacity is a question of evidence. A concern about how an attorney is exercising their role engages different provisions of the GA Act. A concern about marital assets is a Family Court matter. Conflating these categories produces the kind of misconceived application that resulted in dismissal in CR (at [26]).

Step 2: Obtain or test the medical evidence. A current report from the treating doctor of the proposed represented person, addressing the statutory criteria in s 43(1) and s 64(1), will frequently be determinative. In CR, Dr W’s report addressed precisely the matters the Tribunal was required to decide (at [16]).

Step 3: Advise on the presumption and the Briginshaw standard. Clients should be told plainly that the presumption of capacity in s 4(3) is a fundamental principle, that clear and cogent evidence is required to set it aside, and that disagreement with the proposed represented person’s decisions — even sudden or surprising decisions — is not itself proof of incapacity (at [5], [9]).

Step 4: Direct the client to the correct forum. If the substance of the dispute is the division of marital property or supervision of an attorney’s conduct, the client should be told that the Tribunal is not the correct forum and that the proceeding may be dismissed under s 47 if pursued. CR makes this point in terms (at [19]–[20], [26]).

Step 5: Advise about s 47 risk. Where the application is unlikely to succeed on the medical evidence, advise the client in writing about the risk of summary dismissal as misconceived or lacking in substance under s 47(2). Document the advice on file.

Step 6: If acting for the proposed represented person, consider invoking s 47. Section 47(4) permits the Tribunal to act on the application of a party. A respondent or proposed represented person may apply for dismissal in advance of the final hearing. Even where the Tribunal proposes to act on its own initiative (as in CR), framing the case in s 47 terms focuses the Tribunal’s attention on the appropriate disposition.

Step 7: Use the directions hearing strategically. In CR, the directions hearing was the point at which the application could have been withdrawn (at [5]). For a practitioner acting for the proposed represented person, this is the most useful forum at which to put the medical evidence forward and seek either withdrawal or programming under s 47.

Step 8: Co-operate with the Public Advocate’s investigator. The investigator’s role is to ascertain the proposed represented person’s views and verify the relevant documents (at [13]–[14]). Practitioners should facilitate access and ensure that documents such as enduring powers of attorney and enduring powers of guardianship are produced for inspection.

Step 9: Recognise the procedural safeguard in s 47(3). The summary dismissal power may only be exercised by a legally qualified member. Where an applicant resists withdrawal, expect the matter to be programmed for hearing before a legally qualified member; if it is not, the practitioner acting for the proposed represented person should request that course (at [6]).

Step 10: Document the advice. The combination of the medical evidence and the s 47 risk should be conveyed in writing. If a client elects to proceed despite advice, the position should be recorded contemporaneously to address any later allegation about the propriety of pursuing the proceeding.

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

For an applicant who genuinely believes capacity is in issue

An applicant must marshal evidence directed to the statutory criteria. The strongest applications are supported by current medical reports addressing s 43(1) and s 64(1) by reference to the relevant statutory questions. Generalised concerns about a proposed represented person’s vulnerability, even if genuinely held, are unlikely to satisfy the Briginshaw standard. Where the applicant has limited access to medical evidence, the appropriate step is to seek a direction at the first opportunity for the matter to be referred to the Office of the Public Advocate for an investigation and for a medical report to be obtained.

An applicant who genuinely believes that an enduring attorney is acting improperly must direct that concern to its proper statutory home. Concerns about marital property must be directed to the Family Court of Western Australia. To press a guardianship application as a proxy for either of those concerns is to invite dismissal under s 47, as occurred in CR (at [26]).

For the proposed represented person or a respondent

Where the proposed represented person has capacity, the most powerful evidence is the medical report of the current treating team, addressed to the statutory criteria. The report of Dr W in CR is a model of utility in this respect (at [16]). Beyond that, the proposed represented person should be in a position to demonstrate that their expressed views are genuine and not the product of influence, that any enduring documents have been properly executed, and that the family is broadly aligned on the question of capacity (at [13]–[15]).

A respondent should also be prepared to point the Tribunal to the proper forum for the applicant’s real concerns. In CR the Tribunal’s message on this was unambiguous (at [19]–[20]). The earlier this is identified in correspondence and in submissions, the more likely it is that an applicant will be persuaded to withdraw before final hearing.

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1. The presumption of capacity is robust. Section 4(3) of the GA Act enshrines a fundamental principle and clear and cogent evidence is required to set it aside.

2. Disagreement with a decision is not evidence of incapacity. The proposition that a proposed represented person who declines to see the applicant must therefore lack capacity is precisely the kind of reasoning that the Tribunal in CR identified as a misunderstanding of legal principle (at [5], [26]).

3. The guardianship jurisdiction is not a forum for marital property disputes. Concerns about division of assets between separating spouses, or supervision of an attorney’s use of joint accounts, must be raised elsewhere (at [19]–[20]).

4. Section 47 dismissal is available where an applicant refuses to withdraw. A proceeding that cannot succeed on the medical evidence is liable to be dismissed as misconceived and lacking in substance under s 47(2) of the SAT Act.

5. The Tribunal may act on its own initiative. Section 47(4) permits the Tribunal to dismiss a proceeding without any application from a party. In CR the Senior Member explicitly programmed the matter into the s 47 path at the directions stage (at [6]).

6. Only a legally qualified member may dismiss under s 47. Section 47(3) imposes a procedural safeguard, which was satisfied in CR by the matter being heard at final hearing by Member Bunney.

7. A sudden change of mind, properly explained, is not incapacity. The investigator was satisfied in CR that CR’s decision to separate and her opposition to HU acting as her decision-maker were her genuine views and were not the product of influence (at [13]–[14]).

8. Properly executed enduring documents are powerful evidence of capacity. The enduring power of attorney in CR was witnessed by a doctor (at [14]). Practitioners advising on the execution of such documents should consider, where appropriate, contemporaneous medical witnessing to support the documents against later challenge.

9. The Family Court is the proper forum for marital property questions. Practitioners must direct clients to that forum where the real grievance is about division of property, regardless of how the application is framed (at [19]–[20]).

10. The Tribunal’s protective role can be discharged by dismissal. The protective character of the GA Act jurisdiction extends to protecting the proposed represented person from misconceived applications. CR confirms that the Tribunal is willing to give that protection summary effect.

10. Conclusion

CR [2026] WASAT 53 is a short decision but a useful one. It records, plainly, that the Tribunal will not entertain a guardianship application that is pressed in defiance of clear medical evidence of capacity and that is animated, on closer examination, by concerns properly belonging to another forum. The decision affirms three propositions that practitioners will find useful in framing advice: the presumption of capacity is fundamental and not easily displaced; the Tribunal’s jurisdiction is not a vehicle for marital property disputes or attorney-supervision concerns; and the power in s 47 of the SAT Act will be used where an applicant declines an invitation to withdraw an application that cannot succeed.

For practitioners advising applicants, the message is one of forensic discipline. For practitioners advising proposed proposed represented persons, the case furnishes a clear pathway for early dismissal, and supports the position that engagement with the directions hearing and full co-operation with the Public Advocate’s investigator is generally the most effective way to bring a meritless application to an early end. For the Tribunal, the decision quietly affirms that its protective function is best discharged, in cases of this kind, by terminating the proceeding rather than enduring it.

  • All names used in this article are pseudonyms assigned by the State Administrative Tribunal of Western Australia. The judgment was published under those pseudonyms in accordance with the Tribunal’s standard practice in proceedings under the Guardianship and Administration Act 1990 (WA). No details in this article identify, or are intended to identify, any party, witness or associated person.

Lapsed Community Treatment Orders and Statutory Capacity: The Trial of Independent Management as a Least-Restrictive Pathway

An Analysis of R [2026] WASAT 43

1. Introduction

In R [2026] WASAT 43, Dr E Marillier, Senior Member of the Tribunal, conducted a periodic review under s 84 of the Guardianship and Administration Act 1990 (WA) (GA Act) of the orders in place for a represented person referred to as R. The decision is short, but it draws together two propositions of practical importance to legal practitioners in Western Australia.

First, the revocation or lapsing of a community treatment order (CTO) under the Mental Health Act 2014 (WA) (MH Act) does not, of itself, support a finding that the represented person has regained capacity for the purposes of the GA Act. The two statutory regimes apply different tests, and a result under one does not automatically transfer to the other.

Second, where the represented person has shown improvement but is not yet able to manage independently, the Tribunal can structure an administration order that includes a discretionary trial of independent management. That mechanism allows the administrator to hand over progressively greater control of income to the represented person, while preserving the administrator's ability to terminate the trial if the evidence so warrants.

Together, these propositions illustrate how the Tribunal applies the s 4 GA Act principles, in particular the least-restrictive principle, in a way that gives the represented person, in the words of the decision, “both a goal and hope” (at [24]).

This article is directed at legal practitioners advising represented persons, applicants and family members in guardianship and administration matters in Western Australia, and at counsel preparing or responding to applications for revocation following a change in mental health status.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

The GA Act establishes a separate decision-making jurisdiction for adults in Western Australia. Section 4 sets out the principles to be observed by the Tribunal: the best interests of the represented person are the primary concern; the represented person is presumed capable of looking after their own health and safety, of making reasonable judgments in matters relating to their person, of managing their own affairs and of making reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to their estate, until the contrary is proved; an order may not be made where there is an alternative means of meeting the person's needs that is less restrictive of their freedom of decision and action; any order must be in the least-restrictive terms; and the views and wishes of the represented person must, so far as possible, be ascertained.

Section 43(1)(b) provides that, before appointing a guardian, the Tribunal must be satisfied that the represented person is incapable of looking after their own health and safety, unable to make reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to their person, or in need of oversight, care or control in the interests of their own health and safety or for the protection of others. Section 43(1)(c) requires that the represented person is in need of a guardian.

For administration, s 64(1)(a) requires the Tribunal to be satisfied that the represented person is unable, by reason of mental disability, to make reasonable judgments in respect of matters relating to all or part of their estate. Section 64(1)(b) requires that they are in need of an administrator. Section 84 provides for the periodic review of guardianship and administration orders.

The MH Act operates separately. Its purpose is to provide a regime for the involuntary treatment of mental illness, with safeguards including independent oversight. A CTO is one form of involuntary treatment order made under the MH Act. Whether a person is subject to a CTO turns on questions including whether the person has a mental illness for which treatment is required and whether less-restrictive options exist; the test is anchored in clinical and treatment criteria specific to the MH Act.

The GA Act and the MH Act apply different tests, addressed to different statutory questions, with different evidentiary thresholds. A finding by clinicians or by the Mental Health Tribunal that involuntary treatment is no longer required is not the same as a finding by the Tribunal that the represented person is capable, for GA Act purposes, of looking after their health and safety or of managing their estate.

The MH Act also constrains what mental health services may disclose about an involuntary patient to a third party without consent. Where the third party is a formally appointed guardian, the appointment generally clears the path for treating clinicians to consult with the guardian. Where the third party is not formally appointed, communication is constrained except where there is a severe risk to the patient (at [17]).

Before R [2026] WASAT 43, it was already settled in practice that the lapsing of a CTO did not automatically result in revocation of guardianship or administration orders. The decision is significant because it expressly states that proposition, and demonstrates how the Tribunal accommodates clinical improvement through tailoring of the order rather than revocation.

3. The Facts of the Case

R is described in the reasons as “a proud aboriginal man” approaching his 60th birthday (at [1]).

R has a formal diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder dating back to September 2009 (at [9]). He has had 21 admissions to hospital since 2009 (at [18]). Relapses and hospitalisations have generally occurred at times when R has been off his regular medication or affected by substance use (at [18]).

In September 2020, the Public Trustee was appointed as plenary administrator of R's estate, and the Public Advocate was appointed as his limited guardian (at [2]). In 2022, R's brother, C, was appointed limited guardian for a number of functions, alongside the Public Advocate as limited guardian for services. In 2023, C was appointed limited guardian for all the necessary guardianship functions. The orders were not changed on a 2024 review.

Some two years before the hearing, R was allocated Department of Housing accommodation. C and R explained to the Tribunal that the allocation was the result of R's pre-existing position on the housing waiting list, not a consequence of C being the guardian (at [10]). All parties agreed that stable accommodation had been a very important part of R's improved health (at [23]).

R was discharged from hospital in early 2025 and was placed on a CTO at that time. The CTO had recently been revoked or had lapsed (at [11]). R was uncertain whether he was meant to continue receiving depot medication, and whether he was meant to receive follow-up through the community mental health service or through his general practitioner (at [11]).

R submitted to the Tribunal that the revocation of the CTO meant that the Tribunal should find that he had capacity, and revoke the appointment of the guardian and the administrator (at [11]).

Medical and case management evidence before the Tribunal included:

(a) 2020 evidence from psychiatrist Dr V indicating that R was unable to manage a budget or pay bills, was unable to organise Centrelink payments without assistance, was chronically homeless, and lacked capacity to make medical treatment, accommodation and services decisions (at [8]);

(b) a March 2026 report from psychiatrist Dr B confirming the diagnosis, considering the condition static, and adopting a similar view of capacity to that held by Dr V in 2020 (at [9]);

(c) a report from case manager A noting strained or fractured relationships within the family (including with C), impaired insight, poor impulse control and fluctuating mental state (at [13]); and

(d) an update email from A indicating that R was relatively stable while compliant with medication, but inconsistent in his attendance at the clinic; he would attend, but rarely at the time scheduled (at [14]).

R has no phone, which makes it difficult for him to receive reminders about appointments (at [15]). His next depot medication was due on 27 May 2026 (at [16]).

Concerning finances, R's estate is simple; he receives the disability support pension. The Public Trustee organises payment of rent, utilities, ambulance insurance and a $50 per fortnight repayment to the Fines Enforcement Registry (at [21]). R manages an allowance of about $260 per week, paid in three instalments (at [22]).

R told the Tribunal that, as a smoker, he found it difficult to budget his allowance for both food and cigarettes (at [22]). C suggested that, if R had Centrepay set up for rent and utilities, he would be able to budget for the other essentials (at [22]). R indicated that, if revocation was not the Tribunal's decision, he would like the opportunity for a trial of independent management (at [22]). Towards the end of the hearing, R said “a trial would be nice” (at [25]).

4. Analysis of the Tribunal's Reasoning

The statutory regimes apply different tests

The Senior Member's reasoning addresses head-on the proposition that R put forward, that the lapsing of the CTO ought to result in revocation. The Tribunal observed (at [11]):

I note that the tests for whether a mental health patient undergoes treatment as a voluntary or involuntary patient are different from the tests for whether or not a person needs a guardian or administrator.

That is a short but important statement. The MH Act addresses the conditions for involuntary treatment of mental illness; the GA Act addresses capacity to make decisions and the need for substituted decision-making. A person may lack capacity for GA Act purposes while no longer requiring involuntary treatment under the MH Act, and conversely.

The mental health communication framework as part of the s 4 analysis

The Senior Member also accepted the practical evidence of case manager A that, if C were not appointed guardian, the community mental health service would be much more restricted in what they could communicate to C, and that under the MH Act it would require a severe risk to R before they could communicate without his consent (at [17]).

This is significant because the consequence of refusing to appoint a guardian extends beyond decision-making for the represented person. It affects the information flow that allows family members to support the represented person in remaining engaged with treatment, including with depot medication now required only every six months (at [16]).

The Senior Member treated this consequence as part of the s 4 GA Act analysis: the appointment of a guardian was not only the least restrictive means of meeting R's needs in his own right, but also operated to support the family-mediated supports on which his stability depended.

Vulnerability and the limits of clinical recovery

The Senior Member accepted that R was doing better than he had at times in the past (at [19]), and accepted that R had managed informally in his Department of Housing accommodation for nearly two years (at [20]). The Senior Member nevertheless found that R remained vulnerable in critical respects: his lack of insight into the need for medication, his uncertainty as to whether he should continue treatment, his impaired ability to retain and recall appointments, the reliance on case management as an intermediary to keep him aligned with depot administration, and the long history of relapse linked to non-medication or substance use (at [16], [18], [19], [23]).

The Senior Member therefore declined to revoke either the guardianship or the administration order outright (at [25]). The s 4 presumption of capacity had not been displaced in R's favour; on the medical evidence it had been displaced against him, and that medical evidence had not changed.

Tailoring rather than revocation

The Senior Member accepted that the improvement in R's condition should be acknowledged. The Tribunal said (at [24]):

I am persuaded by C and R that the improvement in R's condition appropriately would be recognised by an order which provides both a goal and hope.

The decision shows two ways in which the orders were tailored.

First, the guardianship order was substituted with a much narrower set of functions. The 2023 order, which had conferred legal and accommodation functions, was revoked. The new order conferred only treatment decisions and the determination of services to which R was to have access (Order 7).

Second, the administration order was reissued with an authorisation for a trial of independent management of R's Centrelink income, after the administrator had paid expenses they considered essential. Order 4 uses the non-exhaustive formulation “including but not limited to ambulance insurance and Public Trustee fees”, preserving administrator discretion to designate further expenses as essential. The reasons at [26] indicate that the Senior Member contemplated rent, utilities, food, clothing and medication costs, together with the Fines Enforcement Registry repayments, resting with R during the trial. The administrator retained the discretion to terminate the trial if no longer satisfied that it was in R's best interests, including where R was struggling to budget for essentials or contacting the administrator often for funds (at [27]).

The role of the represented person's voice

A notable feature of the reasoning is the weight placed on R's own articulated wishes within the s 4 framework. The Tribunal expressly took R's words “a trial would be nice” as the foundation of the trial mechanism (at [25]). The Senior Member did not, however, allow R's view that the lapsing of the CTO equated to capacity to determine the outcome. The decision thus illustrates the discipline of s 4: the views and wishes of the represented person must be ascertained and given weight, but they remain one factor in a best-interests assessment, and not the determinant.

5. Assessing the Consequences

The decision has a number of practical consequences for represented persons, family members and practitioners.

For represented persons

A lapsed or revoked CTO is not a passport out of guardianship and administration. Practitioners advising represented persons should ensure that the represented person understands this distinction at the outset of any review application, so that expectations are realistic. The decision also illustrates that genuine clinical improvement and articulated personal wishes can be recognised through tailoring of the order, including by progressively widening the scope of what the represented person manages.

For family members and informal supports

Where a family member is providing significant informal support and where information flow from clinicians is critical to the represented person's stability, the formal appointment of that family member as guardian can be the least restrictive means of preserving that information flow. The MH Act's confidentiality regime is not suspended merely because a family member is in fact involved.

For administrators and the Public Trustee

The trial of independent management mechanism imposes a discretionary, evaluative role on the administrator. The administrator must not only continue to pay essentials but must also assess whether the trial remains in the represented person's best interests. The decision identifies, at [27], two of the warning signs to look for: important bills going unpaid, and frequent contact from the represented person seeking additional funds.

For listing and review work

The decision was made with a relatively short review period of approximately 12 months, reflecting the experimental nature of the trial. Practitioners can expect short review periods to accompany trial-of-independent-management orders, so that the experiment can be assessed before the next allocation.

Quantification

The decision involves no monetary award. The economic dimension of the decision is the redistribution of decision-making over R's $260 per week allowance, against the background of a simple estate consisting of disability support pension income.

6. Worked Example

Consider this hypothetical scenario.

S is a man in his early 50s with a diagnosis of bipolar affective disorder. He has been the subject of a guardianship order for three years and an administration order for four years. His sister has been appointed limited guardian. The Public Trustee has been appointed plenary administrator. S has been on a CTO for the last 12 months following hospitalisation for a manic episode. The CTO has just lapsed. S has obtained a private rental property and has been stable for six months. He attends a periodic review of the orders and seeks revocation.

Argument for revocation (S's view)

S would argue that the lapsing of the CTO reflects clinical recovery, that he has been compliant with all treatment, that he is housed and self-supporting, that his sister is involved as an informal support, and that he is now able to manage his Centrelink payments independently.

Argument against revocation (administrator and clinician view)

The administrator and the treating clinician would argue that the GA Act tests are different from the MH Act tests, that the s 64(1)(a) and s 43(1)(b) thresholds are addressed to capacity and need rather than involuntary treatment, and that the medical evidence does not support a finding that S has the capacity to manage his estate or that he no longer needs a guardian for medical treatment decisions. They would argue that the formal guardianship appointment is necessary to permit the treating clinician to consult with the sister about ongoing pharmacological maintenance.

The R [2026] WASAT 43 approach

Following the framework adopted in R, the Tribunal could:

(a) decline to revoke the orders, reasoning that the lapsing of the CTO does not establish GA Act capacity;

(b) tailor the guardianship order to a narrower set of functions, such as treatment and services, removing legal and accommodation functions where the evidence does not support continuing them;

(c) authorise a trial of independent management of S's Centrelink income, after payment by the administrator of essentials such as Public Trustee fees, ambulance insurance and rent, with the administrator retaining a discretion to terminate the trial; and

(d) set a relatively short review period within 12 months to allow the trial to be evaluated.

This approach gives weight to S's views while protecting his housing, medication compliance and stability against the well-recognised risks of relapse following CTO discharge.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following steps may assist practitioners advising represented persons, applicants and family members in matters where a CTO has lapsed and revocation of GA Act orders is sought or anticipated.

Step 1: Identify the precise statutory orders in play

Before advising, identify the precise GA Act orders in place (date, type, scope, functions) and the precise MH Act orders or arrangements (CTO active, lapsed, revoked, voluntary engagement). Distinguish lapsing from revocation: both have the same legal effect for present purposes, but they tell different stories about clinical trajectory.

Step 2: Manage the represented person's expectations early

Explain at the outset that the lapsing of the CTO is not, of itself, a sufficient basis for revoking guardianship or administration. Cite R [2026] WASAT 43 at [11] for the proposition that the tests differ. Avoid setting up the represented person for disappointment by allowing them to believe that revocation is automatic.

Step 3: Assemble the medical and case management evidence afresh

Whatever evidence is on file, assemble updated medical evidence addressing the specific GA Act tests in s 64(1)(a) (estate capacity) and s 43(1)(b) (health and safety, person, oversight). Treating clinicians sometimes write to the GA Act tests; sometimes they do not. A practitioner's request that a treating psychiatrist specifically address the GA Act criteria can sharpen the evidence considerably. Where the evidence is mixed, that mixed picture must be presented honestly.

Step 4: Consider the MH Act information flow

Identify whether there are family members or informal supports whose role depends on receiving information from treating clinicians. If so, evaluate whether removing the guardian appointment would constrict that information flow under the MH Act. Where it would, that is a factor weighing in favour of retaining at least a limited guardianship appointment.

Step 5: Consider tailoring rather than revocation

Where the represented person's circumstances have improved but capacity has not been re-established, consider proposing tailored orders rather than revocation. The two tools illustrated by R [2026] WASAT 43 are: narrowing the guardianship functions to those genuinely required; and seeking authorisation for a trial of independent management of income under the administration order.

Step 6: Frame the trial of independent management precisely

If proposing a trial of independent management, identify which expenses will continue to be paid by the administrator (essentials), and which will pass to the represented person. Draft a proposed order that mirrors the structure used in R [2026] WASAT 43, including the administrator's express discretion to terminate the trial.

Step 7: Address the s 4 principles in submissions

Submissions should expressly address each s 4 principle: best interests, presumption of capacity, less-restrictive alternatives, least-restrictive terms, and the views and wishes of the represented person. The Tribunal's decision shows that all five strands are alive in the analysis.

Step 8: Seek a short review period

Where a trial mechanism is sought, propose a review period of 12 months or less so that the trial can be evaluated. R [2026] WASAT 43 sets a review before 24 April 2027, approximately 12 months from the hearing.

Step 9: Document the represented person's stated views verbatim where possible

The Senior Member treated R's words “a trial would be nice” as the foundation of the trial mechanism. Practitioners should record the represented person's wishes verbatim in their instructions and in their evidence, both to comply with s 4 and because the represented person's voice can shape the relief that the Tribunal considers.

Step 10: Plan for the next review

Whatever order is made, advise on the review period and on the kinds of evidence that will be relevant at that review. If a trial of independent management is in place, advise that the administrator will be looking at indicators such as bill payment and frequency of requests for additional funds (at [27]).

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

For the represented person seeking revocation

The represented person seeking revocation should put forward:

(a) updated medical evidence specifically addressed to the s 64(1)(a) and s 43(1)(b) tests;

(b) evidence of stable accommodation, including any evidence of independent maintenance of tenancy;

(c) evidence of ongoing engagement with treatment, whether through depot medication, GP follow-up, or other community mental health support;

(d) evidence of practical money management (bank statements, evidence of payment of bills, evidence of budgeting for essentials);

(e) evidence of informal supports that can step into roles previously played by formal appointments;

(f) the represented person's own evidence as to their wishes and capacity, given orally where possible; and

(g) submissions on the s 4 principles, in particular the presumption of capacity, less-restrictive alternatives, and views and wishes.

For the party seeking continuation of the orders

A party seeking continuation, typically the Public Advocate, the Public Trustee, a family member or a treating clinician, should put forward:

(a) the most recent medical evidence on diagnosis, capacity and risk of relapse;

(b) case management evidence on engagement, attendance and insight;

(c) evidence of past hospitalisations, particularly any pattern linking relapse to non-medication or substance use (compare R at [18]);

(d) evidence of the support that the formal appointment has actually provided (compare R at [16] - the intermediary role);

(e) evidence of the MH Act's effect on information flow if the appointment is revoked (compare R at [17]);

(f) evidence of practical financial vulnerability (for example, difficulty budgeting allowance for food and essentials, in R's case for food and cigarettes at [22]); and

(g) submissions framing tailored alternatives, narrower guardianship functions and trial of independent management, as the least-restrictive way of recognising improvement.

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

Takeaway 1: A lapsed or revoked CTO does not equate to GA Act capacity. The MH Act and the GA Act apply different tests. Practitioners should resist any argument framed around the simple equation “no CTO equals capacity”, and should manage the represented person's expectations on this point at the outset.

Takeaway 2: Each statutory regime should be assessed on its own evidence. Updated medical evidence written to the GA Act tests is far more useful than a discharge letter or a summary of the MH Act position. Where time permits, ask the treating psychiatrist to address the GA Act criteria specifically.

Takeaway 3: The s 4 principles operate cumulatively, not as a checklist. The decision shows the Senior Member moving between best interests, presumption of capacity, least restrictiveness, and views and wishes, in an integrated analysis. Submissions that engage each strand will land more squarely than submissions that focus on one in isolation.

Takeaway 4: Tailoring is a legitimate response to clinical improvement. Where the represented person is doing better but is not yet capable, narrowing the guardianship functions and authorising a trial of independent management can recognise the improvement without compromising the safety net.

Takeaway 5: The trial of independent management is a structured, conditional handover. It is not a soft revocation. The administrator retains discretion to terminate. Practitioners should draft the proposed order in clear terms, identifying which expenses are essential and remain with the administrator.

Takeaway 6: A guardian appointment can serve as an information-flow mechanism under the MH Act. The decision recognises that, in practice, the formal appointment of a family member as guardian removes the MH Act's confidentiality constraints in respect of that family member. Where a family member is doing critical informal support work, this is a legitimate consideration in the s 4 analysis.

Takeaway 7: The represented person's articulated wishes can shape the relief. The Tribunal's adoption of R's words “a trial would be nice” as the basis of the trial mechanism illustrates that careful recording of the represented person's wishes can directly affect the form of the order, even where the broader application for revocation is unsuccessful.

Takeaway 8: Short review periods accompany experimental orders. Where a trial mechanism is in place, expect a review within 12 months and prepare evidence accordingly. The administrator's experience of the trial will be central.

Takeaway 9: Stable accommodation is a foundation, not a finding of capacity. Stable housing is a recurrent theme in the decision (at [10], [20], [23]). Accommodation stability is a critical protective factor, but it does not, of itself, displace the medical evidence on capacity.

Takeaway 10: The decision models culturally aware decision-making. The Senior Member opens the reasoning by identifying R as “a proud aboriginal man” (at [1]). The decision does not turn on cultural factors specifically, but the framing reflects the Tribunal's awareness that the represented person's identity, family relationships and lived experience are part of the s 4 analysis.

10. Conclusion

R [2026] WASAT 43 is a short decision, but a useful one. It crystallises a proposition that practitioners encounter regularly but often informally: that the lapsing or revocation of a CTO under the Mental Health Act 2014 (WA) is not a finding of capacity under the Guardianship and Administration Act 1990 (WA). The two statutory regimes serve different functions, apply different tests, and produce different outcomes.

Equally useful is the practical mechanism the decision endorses: a trial of independent management, set within a continuing administration order, with the administrator retaining the discretion to terminate. That mechanism gives effect to the s 4 GA Act principles in a way that recognises clinical improvement, gives the represented person agency, and preserves the protections that the underlying medical evidence still requires. In Dr Marillier's words, it is an order that provides “both a goal and hope” (at [24]).

For practitioners, the decision is a reminder that orders under the GA Act are not binary. The Tribunal has the tools to tailor outcomes, and represented persons, and those who advise them, benefit from advocacy that engages the full range of those tools.

  • All names used in this article are pseudonyms. The State Administrative Tribunal of Western Australia (Tribunal) expressly anonymised the reasons for party and witness confidentiality. No detail in this article is intended to identify, and no detail does identify, any party, witness or associated person.

Mediation Confidence and the Reach of Section 71: The Limits of Apologies, Undertakings and ‘Off the Record’ Side Conversations

An Analysis of Keogh v Bartlett [2026] WASC 166

1. Introduction

The Supreme Court of Western Australia’s decision in Keogh v Bartlett [2026] WASC 166 is a significant statement on the enforcement of mediation confidentiality. Cobby J convicted the first defendant, Mr Bartlett, and the corporate second defendant, FMR Investments Pty Ltd, of civil contempt for disclosing the content of a court-ordered mediation to two State prosecutors at the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions, in contravention of s 71(1) of the Supreme Court Act 1935 (WA). Each defendant was fined $50,000 and ordered to pay the plaintiff’s costs on an indemnity basis.

For practitioners, the decision warrants attention beyond the immediate parties for three reasons. First, it confirms that s 71(1) captures everything said in the course of a court-ordered mediation, including the kind of ‘off the record’ private side conversation that some clients (and, perhaps, some practitioners) treat as outside the formal mediation. Second, it dispels any assumption that the trio of concession, apology and undertaking will automatically purge a contempt — Cobby J expressly declined to find that the defendants had purged their contempts and observed that the question of purging will depend upon all of the circumstances of the case. Third, the quantum of penalty marks a substantial departure from the $5,000 fine imposed by Seaward J in Kelly v Hilton [No 6] [2025] WASC 43 for analogous conduct, on the express ground that the fine must bite. Calibrating fines to the contemnor’s means is now a matter of principle, not exception.

The decision affects every civil litigator and every party who attends a court-ordered mediation in Western Australia.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

2.1 The statutory obligation

Section 71(1) of the Supreme Court Act 1935 (WA) provides that, subject to s 71(3), evidence of anything said or done, any communication (oral or in writing), or any admission made in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle a proceeding by mediation under direction is to be taken to be in confidence and is not admissible in any proceedings before any court, tribunal or body. Section 71(3) provides exceptions to that protection, including (relevantly here) the case where the parties to the mediation consent to the admission of the evidence: s 71(3)(a).

In C v M [2011] WASC 175 [65]–[70], K J Martin J held that s 71(1) creates an express statutory obligation of confidence separate from the without-prejudice privilege implicit in the section. Cobby J adopted his Honour’s reasoning at [8].

2.2 Mediation as a fundamental component of civil litigation

The importance of mediation to the civil justice system in Western Australia has long been emphasised by the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal. In West Australian Newspapers v Bond [2009] WASCA 127; (2009) 40 WAR 164, Owen JA referred to the ‘critical importance of mediation in the modern case management process’ at [3] and [6], and Buss JA described mediation as ‘an essential and important feature in the management of contemporary litigation’ at [118]. In C v M at [25], K J Martin J observed that less than three per cent of civil actions filed in the Supreme Court of Western Australia proceed to a resolution at trial, and that court-ordered mediation ‘render[s] an indispensable service to the quelling of civil disputes in this State’.

The protective force of s 71(1) is the corollary of mediation’s centrality. As Smith J explained in Blenkinsop v Herbert [2020] WASC 196 at [36], anything said or done in a mediation is strictly confidential, so that no participant should disclose any information disclosed during the mediation unless all parties agree or disclosure is required or authorised by law. Seaward J echoed this in Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [71], observing that the disclosure of confidential information from such a conference has the potential to undermine the utility of mediation in the substantive matter and the administration of justice more broadly.

2.3 Contempt — civil or criminal

The distinction between civil and criminal contempt was addressed in Allbeury v Corruption and Crime Commission [2012] WASCA 84; (2012) 42 WAR 425 at [61]–[62]. The proceedings before Cobby J were conducted on the common basis that the conduct constituted civil contempt, brought to secure the defendants’ obligation as to confidentiality. His Honour expressly left open at [16] the question whether unauthorised disclosure of mediation material may also constitute criminal contempt, on the basis that the conduct interferes or tends to interfere with the course of justice — citing Lewis v Ogden [1984] HCA 26; (1984) 153 CLR 682, 688; Attorney-General v Leveller Magazine Ltd [1979] AC 440, 449; and Gazal v Setiawan [2024] NSWSC 1008 [67]. The standard of proof for either species is proof beyond reasonable doubt: Witham v Holloway [1995] HCA 3; (1995) 183 CLR 525, 534.

2.4 Penalty principles and the doctrine of purging

The penalty for contempt is in the discretion of the court (Resolute Ltd v Warnes [2001] WASCA 4 [5]) and must be effective; otherwise ‘serious damage to the fabric of the law may result’ (AMIEU v Mudginberri Station Pty Ltd (1986) 161 CLR 98, 115). In Perpetual Trustee Company Ltd v Pascoe Partners Custodian Services Pty Ltd [2025] WASC 82 at [46], Gething J catalogued the relevant sentencing factors: seriousness, culpability, motive, benefit, remorse, the timing and nature of any plea, personal circumstances, character, criminal record, prior contempts, compliance with other orders, personal and general deterrence, and denunciation.

The doctrine of purging contempt was reviewed by Seaward J in Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [16]–[21]. Drawing on Wilson LJ’s formulation in CJ v Flintshire Borough Council, her Honour held that purging ordinarily means to atone for, eradicate, or cleanse the contempt of its previous ill-effect, but that this concept fits more comfortably with breaches of mandatory orders than prohibitory ones. The ‘better view’, her Honour accepted, is that all forms of contempt should be capable of being purged, with what suffices to depend on the particular circumstances. Steps ordinarily required include a genuine and unreserved apology, an offer of compensation, and an offer to pay indemnity costs — but, critically, no single step (or combination of them) automatically purges the contempt. The court retains a discretion to require additional steps or impose a penalty proportionate to the contempt.

3. The Facts of the Case

3.1 The criminal proceedings and acquittal

The plaintiff, Mr Patrick Rhyan Keogh, was a former employee of FMR Investments Pty Ltd, of which Mr Bartlett was a director. In March 2023 the plaintiff was tried on charges including stealing as a servant and property laundering relating to gold-bearing ore allegedly taken in the course of his employment (at [18]). His defence was that Mr Bartlett had given him permission to take the ore. Following a direction that the jury could not convict unless satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that Mr Bartlett’s evidence to the contrary was honest and reliable (at [19]), the plaintiff was acquitted on 28 March 2023 (at [20]).

3.2 The civil proceedings and the order to mediate

On 24 August 2023, FMR Investments commenced civil proceedings in CIV 1957 of 2023, arising out of the same conduct as the criminal trial (at [21]). On 18 January 2024 Musikanth J ordered the action to mediation; the mediation was held on 6 May 2024 before a registrar of the Supreme Court (at [22], [25]).

By March 2024, the State had charged the plaintiff with seven further counts of causing a detriment by fraud, alleging unauthorised payments via inflated subcontractor invoices, with trial listed for September 2024 (at [23]). On 1 April 2024 the plaintiff’s counsel informed the DPP that the defence would again rest on Mr Bartlett’s permission, and invited the prosecution’s discontinuance on public interest grounds (at [24]).

3.3 The ‘off the record’ side conversation

After an initial joint session before the registrar, the parties were placed in separate rooms for the balance of the mediation (at [27]). At some point a conversation occurred between the plaintiff and Mr Bartlett, in the absence of the registrar and the parties’ lawyers (at [27]). Mr Bartlett’s evidence was that he treated the conversation as ‘off the record’ and did not see it as part of the formal mediation (at [28]). On his own account, that conversation included the parties’ settlement proposals (at [29]).

3.4 The disclosure to the DPP

Mr Bartlett gave a statement to police in April or May 2024 about the second criminal charges, then met two State prosecutors, Mr Sertorio and Ms Crouch, at the DPP on 31 May 2024 (at [30]). Mr Sertorio prepared a near-contemporaneous file note of the meeting (at [32]).

The two men’s recollections of what was said at the meeting differed. Cobby J, applying the criminal standard of proof for both liability and penalty (Anderson v XLVII [2015] FCA 19; (2015) 319 ALR 139 at [35]), declined to make findings adverse to the defendants where the accounts diverged but found beyond reasonable doubt that Mr Bartlett disclosed the content of his conversation with the plaintiff at the mediation, including the settlement amounts each side had proposed (at [39]); that he did so to convince the DPP to continue the prosecution, having been told there was only a 50/50 chance the trial would proceed (at [38], [41]); and that he told Mr Sertorio, in substance, that he assumed FMR Investments would sue the plaintiff in respect of the matters underlying the second set of charges (at [40]).

The DPP discontinued the prosecution on Mr Sertorio’s independent assessment of its prospects, notwithstanding Mr Bartlett’s attempt to convince the DPP otherwise (at [48], [53]).

3.5 The contempt motion and the defendants’ summons

On 26 July 2024, the plaintiff filed an originating motion for committal (at [1]). On 19 August 2024, the defendants filed a summons to be discharged of, or alternatively to limit the penalty for, their contempt (at [2]). Affidavits were filed by Mr Bartlett and by Mr Watson, the finance director of FMR Investments. Neither deponent was cross-examined (at [3]).

4. Analysis of the Court’s Reasoning

4.1 The scope of s 71(1)

Cobby J rejected the defendants’ submission that s 71(1) is not expressed in terms that state clearly to whom the obligation is owed, from whom things said or done at a mediation must be kept confidential, and who has standing to enforce a breach (at [9]). The text of s 71(3)(a)–(c) makes plain that the obligation is owed to the parties to the mediation, who alone have power to consent to admission, and that each such party has standing to enforce a breach (at [9]). Critically, his Honour also held at [10] that the obligation requires that the matters identified in s 71(1)–(2) not be disclosed to any person not a party to the mediation — including invitees who attend but are not parties or agents of parties.

That holding has direct bearing on the ‘off the record’ issue. There is no carve-out in s 71(1) for private side conversations between parties during a mediation. A party who treats such a conversation as outside the formal mediation does so at their peril; the obligation extends to anything said or done in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle a proceeding by mediation under direction.

4.2 Findings of contempt and corporate liability

Cobby J found beyond reasonable doubt, consistent with the defendants’ concession, that Mr Bartlett’s disclosure on 31 May 2024 contravened s 71(1) and that he made the disclosure with the intention of convincing the DPP to continue the prosecution (at [41]).

His Honour disposed of the corporate liability question on two bases (at [42]–[44]). First, as FMR Investments was the complainant in the criminal proceedings and the party to the civil proceedings, Mr Bartlett’s intention and conduct at the meeting was the conduct of FMR Investments. Second, even if that were not so, a corporation is liable for contempt where it authorised the conduct or failed to take proper steps to prevent it: Lade & Co Pty Ltd v Black [2006] QCA 294; [2006] 2 Qd R 531 at [63], [106]; Grocon Constructors (Victoria) Pty Ltd v Construction, Forestry, Mining and Energy Union [2013] VSC 275; (2013) 234 IR 59 at [60]. Mr Watson’s affidavit acknowledged that FMR Investments ‘should have ensured that all attendees at the mediation, including [Mr Bartlett] understood … the confidentiality requirements’ (at [43]).

4.3 The purging argument

The defendants’ principal contention was that they had purged their contempt by conceding the contempt, apologising to the plaintiff and the court, giving an undertaking not to further publish the information, and offering to pay costs on an indemnity basis (at [45]–[46]). Cobby J rejected that contention on three grounds.

First, the absence of benefit was not attributable to anything the defendants had done. Mr Bartlett conceded that he attempted to convince the DPP to continue the prosecution; the only reason he failed was Mr Sertorio’s independent assessment of the prospects. There was, his Honour observed, ‘little more that Mr Bartlett could have done to achieve his admitted goal’ (at [53]). Where the failure to obtain a benefit is not due to any restraint or correction by the contemnor, submissions about the absence of benefit carry little weight (at [60]).

Second, the apology was significantly delayed. Mr Bartlett knew of the contempt allegation in mid-June 2024 while in Europe, where he had no demonstrated impediment to communication. He returned to Perth on 3 July 2024 and left on a fishing trip on 6 July 2024 (with continuing telephone and internet access) until 9 August 2024. His apology emerged only with the affidavits filed on 19 August 2024 (at [54]–[57]). The court accepted the apology as genuine but gave it ‘significantly less weight than it might otherwise have received, given his failure to address his contempt in a timely manner’ (at [58]).

Third, the public interest in safeguarding mediation confidentiality told against a finding of purging. Given the potential for damage to the administration of justice arising from disclosure of mediation content, a finding that the defendants had purged their contempts would not be in the interests of justice (at [61]).

4.4 Penalty and the calibration to means

His Honour held that an order for indemnity costs alone would not be a punishment proportionate to the contempt nor a sufficient general deterrent (at [62]–[63]). General deterrence was an important consideration, given the function of s 71(1) in the resolution of litigation without trial (at [64]).

Although neither defendant led evidence of their financial position (at [66]), Cobby J inferred that Mr Bartlett was a person of substantial means from his Applecross residence, his shared ultimate beneficial ownership of a unit trust owning the Gordon Sirdar Gold Mine and the Greenfields Mill, his Busselton house, his month-long European holiday, and his fishing boat with offshore telecommunications (at [67]). FMR Investments’ resources were apparent from its $100 million annual turnover and unrefined gold ore worth between $4 million and $8 million held at Mr Bartlett’s residence (at [68]). Counsel for the defendants made no case as to inability to pay (at [69]).

His Honour expressly compared the present case to Kelly v Hilton [No 6], where Seaward J had imposed a $5,000 fine for analogous disclosure of mediation content to police. The amount was held to be an inadequate response in the present case: ‘a fine of $5,000 would not be an effective punishment in the case of either defendant, being too small to be of consequence to them’ (at [76]). It is appropriate, his Honour held, to consider the means of the contemnor and the extent to which the fine will burden the contemnor in determining the amount of the fine: Peterson v Ceccon [2023] WASC 488 at [103]. The intended order for indemnity costs was a relevant factor in calibrating the fine: Construction, Forestry, Mining and Energy Union v BHP Steel (AIS) Pty Ltd [2003] FCAFC 13; 196 ALR 350 at [53] (at [78]).

The result was a $50,000 fine on each defendant — a tenfold increase on Kelly v Hilton — and indemnity costs of both the originating motion and the defendants’ summons.

5. Assessing the Consequences: Quantification of Penalty

The aggregate financial consequence to the defendants is materially greater than the headline fines suggest. Adding the $100,000 in fines to the costs of the two applications on an indemnity basis yields a likely total exceeding $200,000, before accounting for the defendants’ own legal costs of resisting the originating motion and prosecuting the failed summons.

Three features of his Honour’s reasoning are worth isolating.

First, the court drew the inference of substantial means from indicia rather than financial statements. A defendant who declines to lead evidence of financial position cannot expect the court to assume modest circumstances; the inference from observable wealth (residences, holidays, business interests) operates against them. This is a deliberate evidentiary message: where means are at large, mute defendants will be assumed to have means.

Second, the comparison with Kelly v Hilton [No 6] is unusually direct. In Kelly v Hilton, Seaward J imposed $5,000 for analogous conduct (disclosure of mediation material to police), as a component of a $30,000 aggregate fine across 17 contempts. Cobby J held that figure could not represent a tariff for the present defendants because $5,000 ‘would not be an effective punishment’. The implication is that fines for s 71 contempts are not subject to a fixed quantum but must be set at a level that achieves general deterrence in the case at hand.

Third, the indemnity costs order operates both as a punitive component and as a factor in moderating the fine. His Honour expressly noted at [78] that the prospect of indemnity costs is a factor to be taken into account in imposing penalty, citing CFMEU v BHP at [53]. Practitioners should not assume that indemnity costs and fines are alternative remedies; they will commonly run together.

6. Worked Example

Consider a hypothetical applicant — a director of a privately owned construction company involved in a Supreme Court action against a former senior employee for breach of fiduciary duty. The action is referred to court-ordered mediation. During the mediation the parties spend several hours in separate rooms. The director steps out for coffee and runs into the former employee in the lobby. They speak for fifteen minutes, away from the mediator and the lawyers. The director discloses, in confidence, that the company is willing to settle for $80,000 to make the litigation go away.

Three weeks later, the director is interviewed by police about a separate matter — an allegation, made by the former employee, that the company underpaid superannuation. To pre-empt that allegation, the director tells the investigating officer: ‘Look, this is the same employee who was demanding $200,000 from us at mediation last month. We were prepared to pay $80,000 just to be rid of him.’

On the analysis in Keogh v Bartlett, the director’s disclosure to police almost certainly contravenes s 71(1). The lobby conversation is captured because it is a communication in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle a proceeding by mediation under direction; nothing in s 71(1) carves out informal exchanges that occur during the mediation but outside the mediation room. The disclosure to police of (i) the figure the company was prepared to pay and (ii) the figure the employee was demanding is disclosure to a person not a party to the mediation.

If the former employee learns of the disclosure (perhaps because the police mention it in a subsequent interview), an originating motion for committal is open. Were the matter to proceed, the director would face a finding of civil contempt (and possibly criminal contempt, on the question Cobby J left open at [16]); a substantial fine, calibrated to the director’s means — on Cobby J’s reasoning, more in the order of $30,000 to $50,000 than the $5,000 of Kelly v Hilton; an indemnity costs order on at least the originating motion; and vicarious exposure of the company.

A timely apology, undertaking, and offer of compensation might mitigate the penalty but, as Keogh v Bartlett makes clear, will not automatically purge the contempt. Where the disclosure was strategically motivated, submissions to the effect that ‘no harm was done’ will carry little weight where the absence of harm is fortuitous rather than contemnor-driven. The director’s position would be markedly different had he, on realising his error, immediately notified the former employee’s solicitors of the disclosure, apologised in writing the same day, provided police with a written correction confirming the disclosure was not to be relied upon, offered indemnity costs and a fixed sum of compensation, and caused the company to direct that all future mediation attendees be briefed on s 71. Even so, on the reasoning in Keogh v Bartlett, purging is not automatic. The court retains discretion.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following framework is derived from the principles stated by Cobby J at [9]–[78].

Step 1 — Brief every attendee on s 71 before the mediation.

A corporation acts through its officers; if the attending director or representative does not understand the scope of s 71, the corporation is exposed (at [43]). The brief should expressly address that side conversations during the mediation, including those between parties without lawyers present, are within s 71.

Step 2 — Treat any communication between arrival and departure as confidential.

Section 71(1) is not confined to formal sessions before the mediator. It captures anything said or done in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle. Practitioners should advise clients that there is no concept of ‘off the record’ conversations during a mediation that escape s 71 (at [10], [27]–[29]).

Step 3 — If a contempt allegation is made, address it at once.

A delayed apology will be discounted (at [54]–[58]). Practitioners should not allow holidays or trips to derail the response. If the client is overseas or otherwise unavailable, contemporaneous evidence of the impediment should be assembled.

Step 4 — Concede contempt early if the conduct is plainly captured by s 71.

A late concession is given less weight than an early one. The defendants’ concession in Keogh v Bartlett came only after the file note was disclosed by the plaintiff’s solicitors (at [54]).

Step 5 — Offer purgative steps proactively, but do not rely on them.

Apology, undertaking, offer of compensation, and offer of indemnity costs are the conventional steps (per Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [21]). The court may regard them as insufficient where the absence of benefit was fortuitous (at [60]).

Step 6 — Address the absence of benefit rigorously.

If the contemnor positively withdrew the disclosure or took steps to neutralise it, that should be shown by evidence. If the absence of benefit is solely attributable to a third party’s independent decision, the court will assign little weight to the submission (at [60]).

Step 7 — Lead financial evidence where it is favourable.

Where the contemnor is of modest means and the fine threatens disproportionate hardship, lead evidence to that effect: Peterson v Ceccon [2023] WASC 488 at [103]. Where the contemnor has substantial means, silence is not neutral — the court will infer means from observable indicia (at [66]–[68]).

Step 8 — Anticipate indemnity costs.

Indemnity costs are now standard for s 71 contempts: at [78], [80]. Quantify the likely order at the outset to inform the client.

Step 9 — For corporations: consider proactive policy steps.

The corporate liability discussion at [42]–[44] gives obvious mitigation arguments to corporations that have implemented attendance protocols, mediation briefings, and post-mediation debriefs. Drafting and adoption of such protocols is a sensible response to Keogh v Bartlett.

Step 10 — Remember the open question on criminal contempt.

Cobby J left open at [16] whether breach of s 71 may also be criminal contempt. Practitioners should not assume that an admitted s 71 breach will always be characterised as civil only.

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

8.1 The applicant for committal

An applicant should focus on the objective fact of disclosure: section 71(1) is breached by disclosure simpliciter, with intent and benefit going to penalty rather than liability. Evidence of motive is critical — disclosure made to procure a forensic or commercial advantage attracts a higher penalty (at [51]–[53]). Evidence of the contemnor’s means is admissible from real estate, business interests, holidays and other lifestyle indicia: Keogh v Bartlett shows that such evidence will be acted on even in the absence of formal financial statements (at [67]). Communications between solicitors will often disclose when the contemnor first knew of the allegation and what steps were taken, providing evidence of any delay in apology (at [55]–[57]). Evidence (such as Mr Sertorio’s file note in the present case) that a third party’s independent decision was the only thing preventing the contemnor from achieving his or her aim is critical to demonstrating that the absence of benefit is fortuitous (at [48], [53]). Where the contemnor is of substantial means, applicants should argue that the Kelly v Hilton tariff is too low — exactly the argument adopted by Cobby J at [76].

8.2 The respondent (alleged contemnor)

A respondent should consider whether the disclosure was made in the honest (if mistaken) belief that the conversation fell outside s 71 — although Keogh v Bartlett shows that an ‘off the record’ subjective belief will not negate liability, it may go to culpability. Time-stamped evidence of prompt and proactive apology, withdrawal, and corrective steps should be assembled, ideally pre-dating the originating motion. Self-reporting to the opposing party is a powerful purgative step. Where the contemnor is a corporation in financial distress or an individual on modest means, financial evidence should be led: Peterson v Ceccon. Silence carries the risk identified in Keogh v Bartlett at [67]. For corporate respondents, evidence that mediation attendance protocols and confidentiality briefings have been instituted post-incident may mitigate (at [43]). An early and unconditional concession remains a mitigating factor under Perpetual Trustee v Pascoe Partners at [46], and an offer (or actual payment) of compensation for any actual prejudice caused is ordinarily relevant: Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [21].

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1. Section 71(1) covers everything said in the mediation. There is no carve-out for ‘off the record’ side conversations between parties during a court-ordered mediation. Cobby J’s holding at [10] that confidentiality applies in respect of disclosure to any person not a party to the mediation leaves no room for an informal-conversation exception (at [27]–[29]).

2. Concession, apology and undertaking will not automatically purge a contempt. The court retains discretion to require additional steps or to impose a substantial penalty notwithstanding (at [60]; Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [16]–[21]).

3. Delay in apologising materially weakens its weight. A contemnor who learns of an allegation and prioritises a holiday or fishing trip over corrective action will see the apology discounted (at [55]–[58]).

4. Fines are calibrated to the contemnor’s means. Kelly v Hilton’s $5,000 figure is not a tariff. Where the contemnor has substantial means, fines will be set at a level that secures effective punishment and general deterrence (at [76]–[77]).

5. Silence on financial position is dangerous. A respondent who declines to lead financial evidence will not be assumed to be of modest means; the court will infer wealth from observable indicia (at [66]–[68]).

6. Indemnity costs and fines run together. The two remedies are cumulative, with the indemnity costs order operating as a factor in the calibration of the fine, not in substitution for it (at [78]).

7. Corporations are liable through the conduct of their directors. A corporation that fails to brief an attending director on s 71 confidentiality is exposed to contempt liability vicariously and may also be liable for failure to take proper steps to prevent the contempt: Lade & Co Pty Ltd v Black (at [43]).

8. The motive to obtain a forensic advantage aggravates. Disclosure made to influence prosecutorial decision-making, or to gain leverage in associated civil proceedings, will be treated more seriously than inadvertent or accidental disclosure (at [51]–[52]).

9. The absence of benefit must be earned, not fortuitous. Submissions about lack of benefit carry weight only where the contemnor’s restraint produced that outcome. Where a third party’s independent decision is the sole reason no benefit accrued, the absence of benefit is irrelevant to penalty (at [60]).

10. The professional and systemic stakes are significant. Cobby J’s repeated emphasis on the public-interest function of mediation confidentiality at [11]–[14], [61] and [64] makes plain that the court will treat s 71 breaches as a structural threat to civil case management, not as private grievances between parties.

10. Conclusion

Keogh v Bartlett sharpens the message that mediation confidentiality is not a soft norm but a statutory obligation enforceable by substantial penalty. Three propositions are now firmly settled in Western Australia.

First, s 71(1) reaches every communication during the course of a court-ordered mediation, including private side conversations that the parties may have intended to treat as informal. The ‘off the record’ gambit is foreclosed.

Second, the conventional purgative trio of concession, apology and undertaking does not automatically cleanse the contempt. The court will assess the timing, motive, restraint and corrective steps in each case, and decline to find purging where to do so would not be in the interests of justice.

Third, fines for s 71 contempts must bite. Kelly v Hilton’s $5,000 figure was a function of that contemnor’s circumstances, not a tariff. The means-tested approach in Keogh v Bartlett — $50,000 each, plus indemnity costs — is now the benchmark for contemnors of substantial wealth.

For practitioners, the operational message is straightforward. Brief every attendee at every court-ordered mediation on the scope of s 71 before the mediation begins. Address allegations of breach the moment they are made. And do not rely on the apology-and-undertaking response alone to escape penalty.

Leave to Review Guardianship and Administration Orders Under Section 87(5): When “Trying Again” Is Not Enough

An Analysis of MC [2026] WASAT 45

1.  Introduction

In MC [2026] WASAT 45 Member Bunney refused leave under s 87(5) of the Guardianship and Administration Act 1990 (WA) (GA Act) for the represented person’s daughter to bring a fresh review of guardianship and administration orders made by the Full Tribunal in March 2025. The decision is not novel in stating new law. Its value lies in the rigour with which Member Bunney applied the leave threshold articulated by the Full Tribunal in RK [2022] WASAT 112 to the recurrent factual pattern of a disappointed family member who, having unsuccessfully proposed themselves at the original hearing, returns within the review period seeking a second bite at the cherry.

For practitioners advising family members of represented persons, the decision crystallises four propositions that will defeat most such applications: re-litigating the prior factual findings is not a change of circumstances; dissatisfaction with day-to-day decisions of the Public Advocate or the Public Trustee is not a change of circumstances; changing one’s mind about wanting to be appointed is not a change of circumstances; and the very inability to cooperate that justified the prior orders may reappear at the leave hearing itself, providing direct evidence that the relevant circumstance has not changed.

The decision matters beyond MC and her family. It guides the advice that solicitors give to family members who are unhappy with appointments of the Public Advocate and the Public Trustee, and it informs the strategic choice between a fresh review application, a complaint through the appropriate complaints channel, or simply waiting for the next scheduled review.

2.  Relevant Legal Framework

The statutory primary concern

Section 4(2) of the GA Act provides that the primary concern of the Tribunal in making decisions under the Act is the best interests of the person for whom the application is made. Section 4(7) requires the Tribunal, as far as possible, to seek to ascertain the views and wishes of the person concerned, as expressed at the time or as gathered from the person’s previous actions. These two provisions frame every decision the Tribunal makes under the Act, including a decision on leave to review.

Right of review and the leave threshold

Section 86 of the GA Act creates a right of review for persons directly involved in the implementation of orders — the Public Advocate, the Public Trustee, the represented person, the guardian and the administrator. Any other person who seeks a review must first obtain leave of the Tribunal. Section 87(5) provides that the Tribunal may grant leave only if it is satisfied that, because of a change of circumstances or for any other reason, a review should be held.

The RK framework

In RK at [38]–[44] the Full Tribunal articulated three reasons for the leave requirement and established the test that has governed leave applications under s 87(5) since: first, Tribunal proceedings are disruptive and cause anxiety for the represented person, so orders should be reviewed only on good reason; second, the Tribunal sets a review period having considered all the available evidence, and orders should not be reviewed early without good reason; third, because the Tribunal’s process is inquisitorial and depends on parties drawing all relevant matters to its attention, the leave threshold reinforces the obligation to put the case at the original hearing.

On the change-of-circumstances limb, RK requires a comparison between the circumstances that existed at the time of the challenged decision and those that exist at the time of the application for leave. An applicant for leave who was a party at the prior hearing and relies on a change of circumstance will ordinarily need to identify some new evidence: (a) not previously drawn to the Tribunal’s attention; (b) which is relevant to the appointment of a guardian or administrator; and (c) which was not known by the applicant, or could not reasonably have been ascertained, prior to the prior hearing: see RK at [41].

On the “other reason” limb, the reason must be such as to warrant revisiting the issues already dealt with by the Tribunal. RK gives two illustrations: a person who should have been notified of the prior hearing was not notified, or new evidence or an issue suggests that the challenged decision was not, or is no longer, in the represented person’s best interests: see RK at [43].

The dissatisfaction principle

In K [2025] WASAT 67 the Tribunal confirmed that frustration with decisions made under existing orders, and an assertion that the prior orders were made on incorrect information, do not constitute a change of circumstances. That principle was applied in MC [2026] WASAT 45 at [26] and [28]. It coheres with RK at [35], where the Full Tribunal observed that it is not the Tribunal’s role to “review the merits of the myriad of daily decisions which may be made by a guardian or administrator in the exercise of their decision-making authority”.

3.  The Facts of the Case

MC and the original 2024 orders

MC is an 81-year-old woman with advanced dementia who, since November 2024, has lived in residential aged care due to her high care needs and complex medical issues: at [2]. She had previously lived with her daughter B, who was her carer: at [2].

In September 2024, while MC was an inpatient at Hospital A, the hospital applied to the Tribunal for guardianship and administration orders. The hospital’s concerns included B’s lack of cooperation and verbal aggression toward staff: at [3]. In October 2024 a single Member appointed the Public Trustee as MC’s plenary administrator and the Public Advocate as her limited guardian for accommodation, medical treatment and services: at [4].

The 2025 review and the contact function

B sought review of the 2024 Orders under s 17A of the GA Act, proposing herself for appointment: at [5]. The matter came before the Full Tribunal at a First Hearing in February 2025. The delegated guardian’s January 2025 report described continuing concerns about B’s behaviour at the nursing home, including an attempt to force MC into her car and remove her, and threats to staff that required police involvement: at [17]. The guardian sought an additional contact function to permit decisions about who MC would have contact with: at [17]. B terminated the call before the Tribunal could conclude: at [18].

At a Second Hearing on 26 March 2025 the Full Tribunal made the orders that became the subject of the present application (the 2025 Orders): at [19]–[20]. B, having earlier proposed herself, sought to withdraw her nomination as guardian and to be appointed jointly with the Public Trustee as administrator: at [19]–[20]. The Tribunal continued the appointments of the Public Advocate and the Public Trustee, expanded the guardian’s functions to include contact, and set a review date of 26 March 2030: at [5]. The Full Tribunal recorded that B was “unable to manage her emotions appropriately” and “fixated” on a misunderstood $500 annual gifting authority; B again terminated the call before the reasons concluded: at [21].

The 2026 leave application

In October 2025 B applied under s 86 of the GA Act to review the 2025 Orders: at [6]. The Tribunal directed that the question of leave would be determined at the hearing and, if granted, the review would proceed: at [6]. The hearing took place on 31 March 2026 before Member Bunney: at [7]. B, her brother M, their father J (MC’s former husband) and B’s son Z attended, along with the delegated guardian: at [7]. The grounds advanced by B and J as constituting a change of circumstances were that the 2025 Orders had been made on incorrect information, that the Public Trustee and Public Advocate were unprofessional and offensive, that mail addressed to B had been opened by the Public Trustee, and that B was suitable for appointment: at [23].

4.  Analysis of the Tribunal’s Reasoning

Aggrievement with the prior decision

Member Bunney rejected the contention that the 2025 Orders had been made on incorrect information as a basis for leave: at [24]–[26]. B was a party at the First and Second Hearings, and the evidence about her discharge of MC from Hospital A had been before the Tribunal. Re-arguing that evidence is precisely the form of complaint that RK excludes from the change-of-circumstances limb. The Member’s observation at [24] that B felt “censored” by the requirement to confine the discussion to events since March 2025 is illustrative of the misunderstanding that often drives second-bite applications.

Dissatisfaction with the office holders

The Member found that dissatisfaction with the decisions of the Public Trustee and the Public Advocate is not a change of circumstances: at [27]–[28]. Two propositions emerge. First, the Tribunal is not the forum for merits review of operational decisions made by the Public Advocate or the Public Trustee in the exercise of their statutory functions; complaints belong with the appropriate complaints channels. Second, the existence of dissatisfaction with the office holders is, in any event, the predictable consequence of the very orders the family member opposed; without more, dissatisfaction therefore tells the Tribunal nothing about whether the orders are, or remain, in the represented person’s best interests.

Re-nomination is not a change

Member Bunney rejected B’s proposal that she be appointed sole guardian and administrator as a change of circumstances: at [33]. The decisive features were two. First, the matter of B’s suitability had been squarely before the Tribunal in 2025 and had been determined adversely to her. Second, B had “merely changed her mind between the First and Second Hearings” in 2025: at [33]. A subsequent change of mind is not a change in the circumstances surrounding the represented person within the meaning of s 87(5).

Behaviour at the leave hearing as evidence of continuity

Perhaps the most useful aspect of the Member’s reasoning, from a practitioner’s perspective, is the use made of B’s behaviour at the leave hearing itself: at [30]–[32]. B accused the Member of victim-blaming, described questions as “disgusting”, alleged the Member was about to throw something at her, and accused the Member of threatening her: at [30]. J intervened repeatedly to ask B to stop speaking, lower her voice and stop interrupting: at [31]. Member Bunney concluded at [32] that there was no discernible difference between B’s behaviour at the leave hearing and her presentation in February and March 2025. The behaviour relied on by the Full Tribunal in 2025 was not a transient state; it remained current in 2026. The leave hearing therefore furnished direct, contemporaneous evidence that the relevant circumstance — B’s inability to cooperate — had not changed.

“Some other reason”

Member Bunney found no “other reason” within the meaning of RK at [43]: at [40]. J’s late inquiry, after the decision had been reserved, as to whether he could be nominated as guardian and administrator was deliberately not weighed in the balance: at [35]–[36]. The Member expressly preserved J’s position to bring his own application: at [36]. The careful procedural treatment of J’s eleventh-hour proposal is itself instructive: an application for leave is not the occasion for a freewheeling reconsideration of every alternative appointee.

MC’s views and wishes

Section 4(7) requires the Tribunal to seek to ascertain the represented person’s views and wishes. Because of MC’s advanced dementia and the advice of the clinical nurse manager that attendance would be too distressing, MC did not attend: at [38]. The Member found that MC’s specific views about leave could not be ascertained: at [39]. The s 4(7) inquiry is one of effort, not result; where the represented person’s cognition cannot support an expression of view, the obligation is discharged by recording that fact.

5.  Assessing the Consequences

The practical consequences of the decision can be grouped at three levels: for MC, for the family, and for the system.

Consequences for MC

The 2025 Orders remain in force until the scheduled review by 26 March 2030. The contact function added in 2025 remains operative, with the consequence that decisions about who MC has contact with, including the extent of contact with B, continue to be made by the Public Advocate. The decision insulates MC from a third Tribunal hearing within twelve months and from the disruption that the leave threshold is designed to prevent.

Consequences for the family

B has exhausted her present avenue and faces a further period until the next scheduled review. Three avenues remain open. First, J retains his ability to bring his own application for leave on his own grounds, although that application is in no better position than B’s if it depends on the same body of contested matters. Second, the family may make complaints about specific decisions of the Public Advocate or the Public Trustee through the appropriate complaints channels for those office holders. Third, fresh evidence — for example, a documented and sustained change in B’s capacity to cooperate, supported by independent observation — may, in time, satisfy s 87(5).

Consequences for the system

The decision is consistent with a body of recent SAT authority that draws a firm line between leave to review and merits review, and between change-of-circumstance applications and complaints about office-holder conduct. By doing so it preserves the integrity of the review period set at the original hearing, conserves Tribunal resources, and protects represented persons from repeated, distressing proceedings driven by family dynamics rather than by changes in their circumstances.

6.  Worked Example

Consider this hypothetical scenario, designed to test the principles in MC against a slightly different fact pattern.

F is an 84-year-old man with moderate vascular dementia. In June 2024 the Tribunal appointed the Public Advocate as F’s limited guardian for accommodation, the Public Trustee as plenary administrator, and set a review date in June 2029. F’s son S, who proposed himself unsuccessfully at the original hearing, applies under s 86 in March 2026 for review.

Two grounds are advanced. The first is that S is unhappy with the way the Public Trustee has invested F’s superannuation proceeds, which are tied up in conservative term deposits while inflation erodes their real value. The second is a recent independent neuropsychological assessment, commissioned and paid for by S, which records that F’s recent measured cognition has improved on a small number of domains since 2024, attributed to a change in F’s antihypertensive medication.

Applying the framework

The first ground is precluded by the dissatisfaction principle confirmed in MC at [27]–[28] and K [2025] WASAT 67. S’s complaint is about the merits of an investment decision made by the Public Trustee in the exercise of its statutory functions; the proper avenue is a complaint to the Public Trustee, not a fresh review.

The second ground is materially different. It is new evidence, generated after the prior hearing, that bears on a matter central to the order — F’s capacity. It could not have been put before the Tribunal in 2024 because the change in cognition followed a change in medication that had not occurred. Whether that evidence is sufficient to warrant leave will depend on its substance: the assessment must be from a qualified clinician, must be specific in its findings about decision-making capacity, and must withstand the obvious criticism that it is funded by a relative who has an interest in the outcome. If those hurdles are met, the application is at least arguable on the change-of-circumstances limb in RK at [41].

The contrast between the two grounds illustrates the dividing line. Ground one is dissatisfaction; ground two is fresh evidence about the represented person, not the office holders. Only the second engages s 87(5).

7.  Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following sequence may be followed when a family member of a represented person seeks advice on whether to bring a fresh application under s 86 of the GA Act within the review period.

Step 1  Confirm whether leave is required

Identify whether the prospective applicant is a person directly involved in the implementation of the orders within the meaning of s 86. If the client is the represented person, the guardian, the administrator, the Public Advocate or the Public Trustee, no leave is required. Other family members, including adult children, parents and former spouses, must obtain leave: see MC at [10].

Step 2  Identify the basis for leave

Section 87(5) requires either a change of circumstances or some “other reason” that a review should be held. These are alternative limbs, not cumulative requirements: RK at [44]. Test each candidate ground against both limbs before settling on a primary submission.

Step 3  Apply the RK three-limb test for change of circumstances

If the client was a party at the prior hearing, ask: is there new evidence, relevant to appointment, that was not previously drawn to the Tribunal’s attention and which the client could not reasonably have ascertained at the time? RK at [41]. If any limb fails, the change-of-circumstances submission is unlikely to succeed.

Step 4  Consider the “other reason” limb

If the change-of-circumstances limb is unavailable, identify whether there is some other reason warranting revisitation — for example, a procedural failure such as want of notice, or new evidence suggesting the orders are no longer in the represented person’s best interests: RK at [43].

Step 5  Triage dissatisfaction-style complaints

Frame complaints about specific decisions of the Public Advocate or the Public Trustee for the appropriate complaints channel (the Office of the Public Advocate or Public Trustee complaints process, the Ombudsman of Western Australia or, in financial matters, the Trustee Companies Act mechanism), not for s 87(5). MC at [27]–[28] and RK at [35].

Step 6  Counsel on hearing conduct

If the application proceeds, counsel the client realistically on hearing conduct. Member Bunney’s use of B’s behaviour at the leave hearing as confirmation that the relevant circumstance had not changed (at [30]–[32]) is a clear warning that emotional dysregulation at the leave hearing can defeat the application even where the substantive grounds are weak.

Step 7  Consider alternative appointees

Where the client is unsuited to appointment but other family members are not, advise on the option of nominating an alternative appointee. The Member’s preservation of J’s position at [36] in MC indicates that alternative appointees are not required to be aggregated into the same application.

Step 8  Manage expectations on timing

Make clear that the Tribunal sets a review date for a reason and that, absent compelling material, parties should expect to wait for that date. The shortest realistic horizon for a meritorious fresh application is the time required to generate new, independent evidence of a change relevant to the orders.

8.  Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

For the applicant (family member seeking leave)

Independent evidence of a documented change in the represented person’s cognition, capacity, accommodation or care needs, post-dating the challenged decision and not reasonably available at the time of that decision, is the strongest material: RK at [41]. Evidence that the applicant was not given notice of the prior hearing, or that an issue central to the orders was not before the prior Tribunal, may engage the “other reason” limb: RK at [43]. Evidence of a sustained and independently-observed change in the applicant’s own capacity to cooperate — not mere assertion — may, depending on context, be relevant where the prior decision turned on the applicant’s suitability.

For the respondent (Public Advocate, Public Trustee or other party resisting leave)

The most efficient response is to demonstrate that the matters relied on were before the prior Tribunal, were within the applicant’s knowledge at the time, or could reasonably have been ascertained. The applicant’s own application materials, written submissions and the transcript of the prior hearing will often suffice. Conduct at the leave hearing itself may be deployed, as in MC, to show that the relevant circumstance has not changed. Where the applicant complains about specific decisions of office holders, identifying the proper complaints avenue redirects the complaint and confirms that the Tribunal is not the forum.

9.  Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1.      Re-litigating prior factual findings is not a change of circumstances. An applicant who participated in the prior hearing cannot satisfy s 87(5) by asserting that the prior Tribunal got the facts wrong: MC at [26]; K [2025] WASAT 67 at [14].

2.      Dissatisfaction with the office holders is not a change of circumstances. The Tribunal does not review the merits of operational decisions of the Public Advocate or the Public Trustee; complaints belong with the appropriate complaints channel: MC at [27]–[28]; RK at [35].

3.      Changing one’s mind about appointment is not a change of circumstances. Withdrawing a nomination at the prior hearing and re-nominating later does not engage s 87(5): MC at [33].

4.      Conduct at the leave hearing is in evidence. If the applicant’s suitability turned in part on cooperation or emotional regulation, presentation at the leave hearing itself may furnish direct evidence on whether the relevant circumstance has changed: MC at [30]–[32].

5.      The leave threshold protects the represented person. Tribunal proceedings are disruptive; the leave requirement reflects a parliamentary judgment that orders should not be reopened on the application of a non-statutory party without good reason: RK at [38]–[40].

6.      Each potential applicant has their own position. A family member who was not a party at the prior hearing, or who relies on the “other reason” limb, is not aggregated with another family member’s application: MC at [36].

7.      Procedural discipline matters. A late proposal made after a decision is reserved is unlikely to be entertained: MC at [35]–[37]. Counsel should ensure all grounds are advanced before the close of evidence.

8.      Section 4(7) is an obligation of effort. Where the represented person’s cognition does not support the expression of a view, that fact should be recorded; it is not a barrier to a decision: MC at [38]–[39].

9.      The systemic message is to do the work the first time. Section 87(5) reinforces the obligation to put the entire case to the Tribunal at the original hearing. Practitioners advising family members at the original hearing should ensure that suitability evidence — including evidence of capacity to cooperate with office holders — is squarely in evidence the first time round.

10.  Conclusion

MC [2026] WASAT 45 does not announce new doctrine; it applies RK [2022] WASAT 112 with care to a recurrent fact pattern and, in doing so, illustrates the analytical discipline that s 87(5) demands. The leave threshold is not a formality. It is the gatekeeping mechanism that allows the Tribunal to set, and to honour, a review date by which the represented person and the office holders can plan, and which protects the represented person from the disruption of repeated, distressing proceedings.

The practical message for practitioners is this. Section 87(5) divides the post-orders landscape into three zones. The first is review on a change of circumstances or some other reason that warrants revisitation; the threshold is real and is most often met by independent evidence post-dating the challenged decision. The second is the complaints zone, which addresses the conduct of the Public Advocate and the Public Trustee in the discharge of their functions and lies outside the Tribunal. The third is the waiting zone, which the Tribunal, having heard all the evidence at the original hearing, has set deliberately and should be respected. Family members who treat all three zones as if they were the first will find, as B did, that the Tribunal does not.

  • All names used in this article are pseudonyms assigned by the State Administrative Tribunal of Western Australia. The judgment was published under those pseudonyms in accordance with the Tribunal’s usual practice in guardianship and administration matters of using single letters and initials in lieu of party names. No detail in this article is intended to identify, or capable of identifying, any party, witness, or associated person.

Filing Defamation in the Federal Court: Why Single-State Publication Defeated Jurisdiction in Dakin v Bellizzi

An Analysis of Dakin v Bellizzi [2026] FCA 488

1. Introduction

In Dakin v Bellizzi [2026] FCA 488 (Dakin), Wigney J dismissed a defamation proceeding for want of jurisdiction and refused the applicant leave to amend his originating application to introduce a claim under the Australian Consumer Law (ACL), Schedule 2 to the Competition and Consumer Act 2010 (Cth). The decision arose from allegedly defamatory statements made at a private dinner in New South Wales attended by approximately 100 guests. The applicant had commenced proceedings in the Federal Court of Australia, but the Court’s jurisdiction to try a standalone defamation claim, arising under s 9(3) of the Jurisdiction of Courts (Cross-vesting) Act 1987 (Cth) (Cross-vesting Act), extends only to publications in the Australian Capital Territory or the Northern Territory. Because the alleged publications occurred exclusively in New South Wales, the Court had no jurisdiction.

When confronted with a jurisdictional challenge, the applicant sought to salvage the proceeding by amending the originating application to introduce an ACL claim which, if genuine, would have attracted federal jurisdiction and, with it, accrued jurisdiction over the defamation claim. Wigney J found the proposed ACL claim to be colourable — a device to fabricate jurisdiction — and dismissed the proceeding with indemnity costs.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

Federal Court jurisdiction over defamation

As Wigney J noted at [12], the Court’s jurisdiction to try a standalone defamation claim arises from s 9(3) of the Cross-vesting Act. That jurisdiction exists only where the defamatory statements or imputations were published in the ACT or NT: Rana v Google (2017) 254 FCR 1; [2017] FCAFC 156 at [40]; Raghubir v Nicolopoulos [2022] FCAFC 97 at [28].

In Dakin, the alleged defamatory statements were made exclusively in New South Wales. The applicant ultimately conceded that the Court lacked jurisdiction on this basis (at [11]–[12]).

Cross-vesting and transfer

The applicant initially sought transfer to the Supreme Court of New South Wales under s 5(4) of the Cross-vesting Act, but abandoned this position. Wigney J noted at [13] that the power to transfer is only available where the proceeding has “regularly invoked” the Court’s jurisdiction: Amalia Investments Ltd v Virgtel Global Networks NV (No 2) [2011] FCA 1270 at [33]–[35]. A defamation claim filed in the Federal Court in respect of a publication that occurred exclusively in a state does not satisfy that requirement.

Colourable claims and accrued jurisdiction

A party may invoke the Federal Court’s jurisdiction by advancing a federal claim alongside a non-federal claim. If the federal claim is within jurisdiction, the Court may exercise what has historically been called “accrued jurisdiction” over the associated non-federal claim: cf Rizeq v Western Australia (2017) 262 CLR 1 at [55]. However, this avenue is not available if the federal claim is “colourable” — that is, advanced for the improper purpose of fabricating jurisdiction: Burgundy Royale Investments Pty Ltd v Westpac Banking Corporation (1987) 18 FCR 212 at 219.

The test for colourability was restated by the High Court in Citta Hobart Pty Ltd v Cawthorn (2022) 276 CLR 216 at [35]: a claim is not colourable if it is “genuinely in controversy” or “genuinely raised” and is “not incapable on its face of legal argument.” A claim is not rendered colourable merely because it is weak, unless it is so untenable that it amounts to “legal nonsense” or is so obviously unarguable that it may be inferred the claim is not genuinely raised: Qantas Airways Ltd v Lustig (2015) 228 FCR 148 at [88]; Johnson Tiles Pty Ltd v Esso Australia Ltd (2000) 104 FCR 564 at [88]; Scott v Steritech Pty Ltd [2025] FCAFC 110 at [48]; Tucker v McPhee (2022) 292 FCR 666 at [71]. There is otherwise no “threshold of arguability”: Steritech at [48] (at [17]).

Serious harm in defamation

Section 10A of the Defamation Act 2005 (NSW) requires a plaintiff to establish that the allegedly defamatory publication caused, or is likely to cause, serious harm to the plaintiff’s reputation. This threshold must be supported by pleaded material facts. Wigney J observed at [39] that heckling remarks at a private dinner are “the very sort of defamation cases that are meant to be excluded by the threshold requirement of serious harm.”

3. The Facts of the Case

The parties and the property transaction

Mr Harrold Dakin was the director and chief executive officer of two companies: ICC Development Group Pty Ltd and ICC Group Peakhurst Pty Ltd (ICC Peakhurst). In August 2022, ICC Peakhurst purchased two properties in Peakhurst, New South Wales, from Ms Sonia Fenton and entities associated with her for $10 million. ICC Peakhurst paid $2.5 million of the purchase price; the balance of $7.5 million was to be paid pursuant to a loan facility guaranteed by Mr Dakin (at [6]).

Ms Fenton had operated a function centre business at the Peakhurst properties. Mr Dakin and one of the ICC companies were to take over that business (at [7]).

The dinner and the alleged defamatory statements

In October 2024, a dinner was held at one of the Peakhurst properties to commemorate Ms Fenton’s departure from the business and to introduce Mr Dakin to the business’s stakeholders. Approximately 100 guests attended. At the time of the dinner, ICC Peakhurst had not repaid the $7.5 million balance of the purchase price (at [7]).

Mr Dakin gave a speech during the dinner. During the speech, Mrs Cheryl Bellizzi allegedly heckled him, calling out words to the effect that Mr Dakin owed Ms Fenton $7.5 million and was “a crook.” Mr Dakin alleged that the statements conveyed imputations including that he did not have a conscience, that he or entities he controlled owed money to Ms Fenton, that he had taken advantage of Ms Fenton in a business arrangement, and that he was a crook engaging in illegal or unlawful conduct (at [8]).

Approximately 45 minutes later, Mr and Mrs Bellizzi approached Mr Dakin’s table and allegedly made further statements to similar effect in the presence of Mr Dakin’s family and associates (at [9]).

Commencement of proceedings and the jurisdictional challenge

Mr Dakin commenced proceedings in the Federal Court on 13 October 2025 — effectively the last day of the one-year limitation period under s 14B of the Limitation Act 1969 (NSW) (at [26]). Within two weeks, the respondents’ solicitors wrote to Mr Dakin’s solicitors pointing out the jurisdictional deficiency. When no response was received, the respondents filed an interlocutory application on 14 November 2025 seeking dismissal for want of jurisdiction (at [27]–[28]).

The interlocutory application was listed for hearing on 26 March 2026. The respondents filed their submissions by the directed date of 5 March 2026. Mr Dakin did not comply with his deadline of 12 March 2026. It was not until 17 March 2026 — less than two weeks before the hearing — that Mr Dakin’s solicitors foreshadowed a proposed amended originating application adding ICC Peakhurst as applicant and introducing an ACL claim. The proposed amendments were served within days of the hearing (at [28]–[29]).

The proposed ACL claim

The proposed ACL claim alleged that Ms Fenton had represented to Mr Dakin at meetings in September and October 2024 that she would not pursue repayment of the $7.5 million debt and would discharge the security. It was alleged this was a “future representation” within s 4 of the ACL and that Ms Fenton did not have reasonable grounds for making it. Mr and Mrs Bellizzi were alleged to have aided, abetted, counselled or procured Ms Fenton’s contravention of s 18 of the ACL (at [19]–[23]).

4. Analysis of the Court’s Reasoning

The colourability finding

Wigney J was “satisfied that the proposed ACL claim by ICC Group Peakhurst is colourable” (at [25]). His Honour’s reasoning rested on two mutually reinforcing strands.

First, the chronology. The events underlying the proposed ACL claim occurred in September and October 2024. The defamation proceeding was commenced nearly a year later, on the last day of the limitation period. No reference to any ACL claim was made at that time. The proposed amendments emerged only after the respondents challenged jurisdiction and only days before the hearing of their dismissal application. The solicitor’s explanation — that it had only recently become apparent that the loss extended to ICC Peakhurst — was described as “scarcely a plausible or credible explanation” (at [30]–[32]).

Second, the pleading deficiencies. Wigney J identified three fundamental problems with the proposed ACL claim (at [33]–[36]):

(a) No reasonable grounds for the representation. The central allegation was that Ms Fenton’s promise not to pursue the debt was a “future representation” made without reasonable grounds. But the only particulars were that Ms Fenton subsequently took steps to recover the debt. As Wigney J observed, a promise which is not performed is not thereby rendered misleading: Fubilan Catering Services Ltd (Incorporated in PNG) v Compass Group (Australia) Pty Ltd [2008] FCAFC 53 at [91]. Nor is a representation about a future event made misleading simply because a contrary decision was later made: Mobil Oil Australia Ltd v Lyndel Nominees Pty Ltd (1998) 81 FCR 475 at [521] (at [34]).

(b) No basis for accessorial liability. The claim required proof that Mr and Mrs Bellizzi encouraged or assisted Ms Fenton to make the representation and knew she lacked reasonable grounds. The proposed pleading made no such allegation. The particulars of involvement included that the Bellizzis knew about the property sale, made defamatory statements at the dinner, and intended to receive a rocking horse and Ms Fenton’s dogs (at [23], [35]).

(c) No intelligible case on loss. The loss alleged — decreased rental income and staff resignations — could not sensibly be said to flow from the alleged misleading representation or any reliance upon it (at [24], [36]).

Wigney J concluded that the claim’s defects were “such that it could fairly be said to amount to little more than legal nonsense” and that the manifest hopelessness of the pleading provided “further support for the powerful inference that is otherwise available from the chronology of events” (at [37]).

Alternative basis: summary dismissal

His Honour added that, even if the ACL claim were not colourable, he would have refused leave to amend because the claim would have been liable to summary dismissal under s 31A of the Federal Court of Australia Act 1976 (Cth) or to be struck out under r 16.21 of the Federal Court Rules 2011 (Cth) as frivolous, vexatious, or failing to disclose a reasonable cause of action (at [38]).

Serious harm

While it was unnecessary to reach a concluded view, Wigney J indicated that there was “considerable merit” in the respondents’ contention that the defamation pleading failed to plead the threshold element of serious harm under s 10A. His Honour observed that “comments made at a dinner, albeit heckling comments during a speech, are the very sort of defamation cases that are meant to be excluded by the threshold requirement” (at [39]).

5. Assessing the Consequences

The consequences for Mr Dakin were severe. His defamation claim was dismissed without ever being determined on the merits. He was ordered to pay the respondents’ costs on an indemnity basis.

Indemnity costs

Wigney J identified three bases supporting the indemnity costs order (at [41]–[42]). First, the application for leave to amend had no prospects of success. Second, the chronology revealed unreasonable conduct in the prosecution of the litigation. Third, the respondents’ solicitors had sent a Calderbank letter (Calderbank v Calderbank [1975] 3 All ER 333) offering to resolve the matter on the basis that the proceeding be dismissed with no order as to costs. Mr Dakin did not respond to that offer.

Lost cause of action

Because the defamation proceeding was commenced on what was effectively the last day of the limitation period under s 14B of the Limitation Act 1969 (NSW), dismissal for want of jurisdiction almost certainly extinguished Mr Dakin’s ability to bring fresh proceedings in the correct forum. While the judgment does not address this point, any new filing in the Supreme Court of New South Wales would face an immediate limitation defence.

6. Worked Example

Consider the following hypothetical. A Melbourne-based consultant, Ms Kapoor, discovers that a former business partner, Mr Webb, made defamatory statements about her at a private industry function in Melbourne attended by 60 people. The statements alleged that Ms Kapoor had engaged in fraudulent billing practices. Ms Kapoor instructs solicitors and wishes to commence proceedings in the Federal Court, believing that the Court’s case management practices will produce a quicker resolution.

Analysis from Ms Kapoor’s perspective

The first question is jurisdictional. The alleged defamatory statements were made exclusively in Victoria. They were not published in the ACT or NT. Applying the authorities cited in Dakin at [12], the Federal Court has no jurisdiction under s 9(3) of the Cross-vesting Act. Ms Kapoor’s solicitors must advise her that the correct forum is the Supreme Court of Victoria (or, depending on the quantum claimed, the County Court).

If Ms Kapoor’s solicitors were to suggest adding a federal claim — for example, that Mr Webb’s statements also constituted misleading or deceptive conduct under s 18 of the ACL in the course of “trade or commerce” — they would need to be satisfied that such a claim was genuinely raised and not colourable. Following Dakin, a court would scrutinise the timing of the proposed amendment and the quality of the pleading. If the ACL claim emerged only after a jurisdictional challenge, and if it suffered from pleading deficiencies similar to those identified in Dakin (no adequate factual foundation, no intelligible case on loss), the claim would be at serious risk of being found colourable.

Analysis from Mr Webb’s perspective

Mr Webb’s solicitors should, at the earliest opportunity, write to Ms Kapoor’s solicitors identifying the jurisdictional deficiency, just as the Bellizzis’ solicitors did in Dakin. If no satisfactory response is received, an interlocutory application for dismissal should be filed promptly. A Calderbank letter offering dismissal with no order as to costs creates an additional basis for indemnity costs if the applicant unreasonably persists.

If the applicant then attempts to introduce a federal claim, Mr Webb’s solicitors should oppose the amendment and argue colourability, pointing to the timing of the amendment and any deficiencies in the proposed pleading. The framework in Dakin at [25]–[37] provides a clear roadmap for such an argument.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

Step 1: Identify where publication occurred. Before commencing any defamation proceeding, ascertain every jurisdiction in which the allegedly defamatory matter was published. If publication occurred exclusively in one state (and not in the ACT or NT), Dakin confirms that the Federal Court has no standalone jurisdiction under s 9(3) of the Cross-vesting Act (at [12]).

Step 2: Select the correct forum. Where publication occurred exclusively in a single state, the proceeding must be commenced in the courts of that state. If publication can be shown to have occurred in the ACT or NT (including online publication accessible in those territories), the Federal Court may have jurisdiction under s 9(3).

Step 3: Be mindful of limitation periods. Under s 14B of the Limitation Act 1969 (NSW) and equivalent provisions in other jurisdictions, the limitation period for defamation is one year from the date of publication. Filing in the wrong court does not stop time running. In Dakin, proceedings were commenced on what was effectively the last day of the limitation period (at [26]). Dismissal for want of jurisdiction almost certainly extinguished the cause of action entirely.

Step 4: Do not graft on federal claims to manufacture jurisdiction. If a jurisdictional deficiency is identified after proceedings have been commenced, the temptation to introduce a federal claim (such as an ACL claim) to attract accrued jurisdiction should be resisted unless the claim is genuinely raised and properly pleaded. Following Dakin, the Court will scrutinise both the timing of the proposed amendment and the quality of the pleading. A claim introduced only after a jurisdictional challenge, and which suffers from fundamental pleading deficiencies, will be treated as colourable (at [25]–[37]).

Step 5: If acting for the respondent, challenge jurisdiction early. Write to the applicant’s solicitors identifying the jurisdictional deficiency as soon as the proceeding is served. If no satisfactory response is received, file an interlocutory application for dismissal promptly. The earlier the challenge is raised, the stronger the inference of colourability if the applicant later attempts to introduce a federal claim (at [27]–[30]).

Step 6: Deploy a Calderbank letter. Before the hearing of a dismissal application, consider sending a Calderbank letter offering to resolve the matter on terms more favourable to the applicant than the likely outcome (for example, dismissal with no order as to costs). An unreasonable failure to accept such an offer provides an independent basis for indemnity costs (at [41]).

Step 7: Plead serious harm with specificity. The serious harm threshold under s 10A is an essential element that must be supported by pleaded material facts. Bare assertions of “serious damage, harm, distress and embarrassment” without supporting particulars are insufficient. Wigney J’s observations at [39] suggest that statements made at a private dinner to a limited audience may face particular difficulty in satisfying the threshold.

The Evidentiary Threshold for Reopening Before the State Administrative Tribunal

An Analysis of Satterley Property Group Pty Ltd and Western Australian Planning Commission [2026] WASAT 39

1.  Introduction

On 23 April 2026, the State Administrative Tribunal of Western Australia delivered its decision in Satterley Property Group Pty Ltd and Western Australian Planning Commission [2026] WASAT 39 (Satterley). The Tribunal, constituted by Judge H Jackson (Deputy President) and Mr R Povey (Member), refused an application by Satterley Property Group Pty Ltd to reopen its case after the hearing had concluded and the decision had been reserved.

The decision warrants close attention from practitioners who appear before the SAT and analogous tribunals across Australia. While the Tribunal’s power to permit a party to reopen its case was confirmed as “undoubted”, the decision articulates a substantive threshold that goes well beyond the mere identification of a new argument or legal mechanism. The core principle is that an application to reopen must demonstrate that the new material would actually assist the Tribunal to reach the correct and preferable decision — not merely that it raises an interesting theoretical possibility.

The significance of the decision lies in the Tribunal’s insistence upon a distinction between a promising idea and a properly developed proposal supported by evidence. Satterley’s application proposed to file supplementary submissions identifying a survey-strata subdivision as an alternative mechanism for enforcing vegetation management obligations, but without any supporting evidence. The Tribunal held that submissions alone, unaccompanied by evidence addressing the practical feasibility of the proposal, were insufficient to justify reopening a complex proceeding that had been heard over seventeen days.

The decision is of particular relevance to planning, environment and resources practitioners, but its principles apply wherever an applicant seeks to reopen before the SAT. It is also instructive for practitioners advising clients at the pre-hearing stage, as it reinforces the expectation that parties will present all of their evidence and submissions at the hearing.

2.  Relevant Legal Framework

2.1  The SAT Act and the Power to Reopen

The State Administrative Tribunal Act 2004 (WA) (SAT Act) does not expressly confer a power to allow a party to reopen its case. However, as the Tribunal noted at [17], previous iterations of the Tribunal have proceeded on the basis that such a power exists, citing Owners of Island Apartments Strata Plan 52597 and Pindan Pty Ltd [2018] WASAT 2 and Adam and Di Giacomo [2017] WASAT 126.

The statutory basis for the power was identified in Legal Profession Complaints Committee and a Legal Practitioner [2013] WASAT 34, where the Tribunal described the power as “undoubted” and located its source in ss 32(5) and 34(1) of the SAT Act. Section 32(5) empowers the Tribunal to determine “the practice and procedure” to be applied, while s 34(1) permits the giving of “directions at any time in a proceeding and do whatever is necessary for the speedy and fair conduct of the proceeding”. The Tribunal in Satterley agreed with that analysis (at [18]).

The discretionary framework is informed by the Tribunal’s statutory objectives of fairness, expedition and informality in s 9 and the obligation of procedural fairness in s 32(1), which are consistent with the broad procedural power in s 34(1) (at [19]).

2.2  The Westgem Principles

The Tribunal endorsed the approach of the courts to applications to reopen a party’s case in judicial proceedings, following Re Confidential and Commissioner of Taxation [2013] AATA 382; 61 AAR 293 (at [132]), which held that such principles “provide a useful guide” because “broadly, they are founded in the notion of fairness or natural justice” (at [21]).

Central to the analysis was the decision of Tottle J in Westgem Investments Pty Ltd v Commonwealth Bank of Australia Ltd [No 5] [2019] WASC 310 (Westgem). His Honour identified the overriding principle as whether “the justice of the case favours the grant of leave” (at [63]), and set out seven considerations relevant to an application to reopen where the decision has been reserved but not determined and the purpose is to overcome an error by a party’s lawyers (at [89]):

(a)   the public interest (and the interests of the particular parties) in litigation being conducted efficiently and expeditiously;

(b)   the public interest in the finality of litigation, with the consequent expectation that litigants will present all their evidence and submissions at the one hearing;

(c)   the significance of any proposed new evidence and submissions in the context of the trial;

(d)   the explanation for the evidence not having been led at the trial;

(e)   the likely prejudice to the opposing party if the application is allowed;

(f)    the potential detriment to the applying party if the application is refused; and

(g)   any delay by an applicant in seeking leave to reopen.

The Tribunal accepted these principles as applicable to the SAT, subject to the observation that they must be read in the context of the relevant provisions of the SAT Act (at [21]–[23]).

3.  The Facts of the Case

3.1  The Proposed Structure Plan and the Bushfire Issue

The proceeding concerned Satterley’s application for review of the WAPC’s refusal to approve a proposed Structure Plan for a site that could “reasonably be described as ‘extraordinary’” (at [45]). The site covered 534 hectares, proposed 1,001 lots to accommodate approximately 2,803 people, included two schools, and was anticipated to be staged over more than 15 years. Central to the refusal was whether the development could proceed in a manner such that the risk to people and property from bushfire was acceptable (at [2]).

Satterley’s proposed Structure Plan included a Bushfire Management Plan (BMP) that required certain vegetation to be managed and maintained in a “low threat state” (at [3]). Both the 2024 BMP and the updated 2025 BMP identified the need for a landscape management plan at subdivision stage that would detail responsibilities and provide “an appropriate means of enforcement for the ongoing management of vegetation across the site, especially APZs and low threat vegetation on private land and POS” (at [28]–[30]).

The WAPC had long considered this approach inadequate. Its Statement of Issues, Facts and Contentions contended that the critical assumption — that certain parts of the Structure Plan area would be modified to a low threat state and maintained in that state in perpetuity — was “unjustified and inappropriate” (at [31]).

3.2  The Hearing and the Enforceability Issue

The proceeding was heard over 17 days commencing in September 2025, with final closing submissions made on 11 December 2025 (at [5]). The enforceability of obligations to maintain vegetation in a low threat state was a live issue throughout. Satterley’s witness, Mr Rowe, proposed methods including restrictive covenants on title (at [32]). The WAPC’s witness, Mr Parker, considered that a landscape management plan should be prepared to support the proposed Structure Plan (at [33]). The issue was the subject of expert conferral and cross-examination (at [35]–[36]).

3.3  The Application to Reopen

On 27 February 2026, Satterley applied for leave to reopen its case to file supplementary submissions identifying an “alternate mechanism”: subdivision of private lots as a survey-strata scheme under the Strata Titles Act 1985 (WA), rather than by freehold subdivision (at [7]–[10]). The draft submissions relied on three benefits of the strata mechanism: first, that strata by-laws can impose positive obligations on owners; secondly, that enforcement occurs in the Tribunal rather than the Supreme Court; and thirdly, that enforcement can be initiated by the strata company or individual owners, not just individual lot owners (at [41]).

Mr McGlue, Satterley’s solicitor, deposed that the idea arose the day after closing submissions when he discussed the matter with a partner at his firm with expertise in strata matters (at [38]). The delay between 12 December 2025 and the 27 February 2026 application was explained by the need to consider the matter, discuss with counsel, take instructions, and the intervening Christmas period (at [39]).

Critically, Satterley’s position was that, if leave were granted, it would simply file the draft submissions without calling any evidence (at [13]–[14]).

4.  Analysis of the Tribunal’s Reasoning

4.1  The Primary Ground: Submissions Without Evidence Cannot Assist

The Tribunal’s primary reason for refusing leave was that the proposed supplementary submissions, standing alone, would be “insufficient to allow us to make the finding which, if leave were granted, Satterley says it would press upon us” — namely, that “a survey-strata subdivision approach would be appropriate in the circumstances” (at [43]). The Tribunal held that before it could reach such a conclusion, it would need evidence as to whether such an approach was “otherwise suitable in the circumstances of this case” (at [44]).

This reasoning establishes a clear principle: an application to reopen must do more than identify a new legal mechanism. The party must demonstrate that it can place before the Tribunal material sufficient to allow the Tribunal to act upon it. The Tribunal drew a firm distinction between a proposition that is legally possible (“there is nothing in the relevant planning regime — statutory and policy — that precludes it”: at [47]) and one that is practically feasible and evidentially supported.

4.2  The Extraordinary Nature of the Proposal

The Tribunal emphasised the extraordinary scale of both the Structure Plan and the proposed survey-strata mechanism. A survey-strata subdivision covering 534 hectares, 1,001 lots, two schools, and a development staged over 15 years was described as “equally extraordinary” (at [46]) and “appears to be unprecedented” (at [47]). This context heightened the evidentiary burden: the more novel and ambitious the proposal, the more the Tribunal required by way of evidence to satisfy itself that the approach was workable.

4.3  The WAPC’s Unanswered Questions

The Tribunal accepted that the questions raised by the WAPC in its written submissions “raise matters of a nature that should be properly considered” before the Tribunal could reach the conclusion Satterley urged (at [49]). Those questions included whether a single or multiple survey-strata schemes were proposed, how they would interact, whether it was practical over a 15-year staging period, what would be included (particularly roads and open space), how common property would be funded and insured, and whether the proposal was consistent with the Strata Titles Act and planning policy (at [48]).

The Tribunal observed that the survey-strata approach, while it might overcome difficulties with restrictive covenants, “may well raise other difficulties which, at present, remain unidentified or unexplored” (at [50]). Satterley’s proposed approach “does not acknowledge, let alone address, that possibility” (at [51]).

4.4  The Obligation to Put Forward a Considered Proposal

At [57], the Tribunal articulated the standard that applies: the applicant must “put forward a considered proposal, one that fleshes out and explains what is proposed and how it will work, against relevant planning policies”. Where matters are not agreed and are significant, this “will also require the calling of witnesses to express opinions which are explained and to answer questions posed by others”. This passage is likely to be cited frequently in future applications to reopen.

4.5  The Secondary Grounds

The Tribunal also considered the Westgem factors. It accepted Mr McGlue’s explanation of the delay but observed that it was “surprising” that alternative enforcement mechanisms had not received more thorough consideration given “the history of the matter and the significance of the issue” (at [63]). Satterley “was aware of the Issue for a long time, is not without resources, and has been legally represented throughout the proceeding” (at [64]).

The public interest in efficient litigation and finality both weighed against reopening (at [66]). As to prejudice, the Intervenor (Save Perth Hills) noted the “very considerable interest of its members in the prompt resolution of the matter” and that further evidence would cause delay “measured in months, not weeks” (at [68]).

5.  Assessing the Consequences

The practical consequences of the decision are significant for the parties and for future applicants.

For Satterley, the refusal means that the Tribunal will determine the proceeding on the evidence and submissions as they stood at the close of the hearing on 11 December 2025. The survey-strata mechanism will not be considered. If the Tribunal ultimately finds that the enforceability of vegetation management obligations is a critical deficiency in the proposed Structure Plan, Satterley will bear the consequences of not having raised the survey-strata alternative during the hearing.

The decision also illustrates the cost of a “wait and see” approach to evidence preparation. The 17-day hearing, involving multiple experts and extensive conferral, represented a substantial investment of time and resources by all parties. The Tribunal’s refusal to reopen underscores that such investment carries with it an expectation of finality. As the Tribunal observed, the other parties were “entitled to proceed on the basis that Satterley’s case will be as outlined in its SIFC and the witness statements of its experts, and that it will not be necessary to come back for a ‘second bite of the cherry’” (at [65]).

The temporal cost of reopening was also a factor. The Intervenor’s submission that further evidence would cause delay measured in months, not weeks, was accepted (at [68]). In complex planning proceedings where community interests are engaged, the delay occasioned by reopening is not merely a matter of inconvenience but engages the statutory objective of expedition.

6.  Worked Example

Consider a hypothetical applicant, Greenfield Developments Pty Ltd, which seeks review of the WAPC’s refusal to approve a structure plan for a 200-hectare residential development in a bushfire-prone area. The hearing is conducted over eight days and the decision is reserved. During the hearing, Greenfield’s case was that bushfire risk could be managed through a combination of building standards and landscaping obligations enforced by the local government under local planning policies.

Two weeks after closing submissions, Greenfield’s solicitor identifies a recent amendment to the relevant local planning scheme that introduces a Special Control Area with enforceable conditions directly relevant to vegetation management. Greenfield wishes to reopen to file submissions relying on the new provision.

Analysis from Greenfield’s perspective

Greenfield’s application would be strengthened, relative to Satterley’s, if it were to: (a) tender evidence from a planning witness explaining how the Special Control Area provisions would operate in practice on the specific site; (b) demonstrate that the new provisions address the specific enforceability concerns raised during the hearing; and (c) address any new issues that the mechanism might raise. Applying the principles in Satterley, Greenfield must put forward a “considered proposal” (at [57]) — not merely identify the new provision and submit that it solves the problem.

Analysis from the respondent’s perspective

The WAPC would be entitled to point to the Westgem factors: the public interest in finality, the expectation that Greenfield would present its full case at the hearing, and the delay that reopening would occasion. The WAPC could further argue that the Special Control Area amendment was publicly notified before the hearing and Greenfield’s failure to identify it reflects inadequate preparation, engaging the principle that parties are “entitled to proceed on the basis that [the applicant’s] case will be as outlined in its SIFC” (at [65]).

Likely outcome

If Greenfield proposes to call evidence and can demonstrate that the Special Control Area provision materially changes the analysis on a contested issue, the application has reasonable prospects. If, however, Greenfield merely proposes to file submissions without evidence — as Satterley did — the application is likely to fail. The distinction drawn in Satterley between a promising idea and a considered, evidence-supported proposal is the critical dividing line.

7.  Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

Step 1.  Identify the new material and assess its significance.  Before applying to reopen, the practitioner must identify precisely what new evidence or submissions are proposed and assess their significance “in the context of the trial” (Westgem at [89](c)). The new material must be capable of making a material difference to the Tribunal’s determination. A new argument that merely repackages existing submissions in different form is unlikely to satisfy this threshold.

Step 2.  Prepare the evidence, not just the submissions.  The core lesson of Satterley is that identifying a new legal mechanism is not enough. The Tribunal required evidence as to whether the survey-strata approach was “otherwise suitable in the circumstances of this case” (at [44]). Practitioners must ensure that any application to reopen is accompanied by evidence that addresses the feasibility and practicality of the proposal, not merely its theoretical availability.

Step 3.  Anticipate and address objections.  The Tribunal found it significant that the WAPC’s questions were left unanswered by Satterley’s proposed submissions (at [49]–[51]). Practitioners should identify the questions that the new material will provoke and ensure that the evidence addresses them. A proposal that “does not acknowledge, let alone address” the difficulties it may create (at [51]) will not satisfy the threshold.

Step 4.  Provide a frank explanation for the omission.  The explanation for the evidence not having been led at the hearing is a relevant factor (Westgem at [89](d)). In Satterley, the Tribunal accepted Mr McGlue’s explanation but observed that it was “surprising” that alternatives had not been more thoroughly considered given the significance of the issue and the resources available to Satterley (at [63]–[64]). Practitioners should be candid in their explanation and avoid overstating the novelty of the omitted material.

Step 5.  Act promptly.  Delay weighs against the grant of leave (Westgem at [89](g)). While the Tribunal in Satterley did not treat the delay as determinative, it accepted that some criticism could be made (at [62]). Practitioners should apply to reopen as soon as reasonably practicable and document the reasons for any intervening delay.

Step 6.  Consider the impact on other parties.  The likely prejudice to opposing parties and interested parties is relevant (Westgem at [89](e)). In Satterley, the Intervenor’s submission that further evidence would cause delay “measured in months, not weeks” was accepted (at [68]). Practitioners should be prepared to explain how the reopening can be accommodated without disproportionate delay or prejudice.

Step 7.  Frame the application in terms of the correct and preferable decision.  The Tribunal’s overriding concern was whether granting leave would “assist us in seeking to reach the correct and preferable decision” (at [59]). Practitioners should frame the application in those terms, demonstrating that the new material is not merely helpful to the applicant but necessary for the Tribunal to discharge its statutory function.

8.  Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

8.1  For the Party Seeking to Reopen

The party seeking to reopen should consider the following evidence and arguments:

Expert evidence on feasibility.  The absence of expert evidence was fatal to Satterley’s application. A party seeking to reopen should tender expert evidence that addresses not only the theoretical availability of the new mechanism but its practical suitability in the specific circumstances. In a planning context, this might include town planning evidence, engineering evidence, legal evidence on the operation of the proposed mechanism, and financial evidence on its implementation costs.

Evidence addressing objections.  The new evidence should pre-emptively address the questions likely to be raised by opposing parties. In Satterley, the WAPC raised detailed questions about the operation of the survey-strata mechanism (at [48]) that Satterley’s submissions did not answer. A well-prepared application would address these questions in advance.

Submissions on procedural fairness.  The applicant can argue that the Tribunal’s statutory obligation of procedural fairness (s 32(1) SAT Act) and its obligation to reach the “correct and preferable decision” favour permitting the new material. The applicant should emphasise any change in circumstances or new information that was not reasonably available before the hearing closed.

8.2  For the Party Opposing Reopening

Finality and efficiency.  The responding party can invoke the public interest in the finality of litigation and the expectation that litigants will present their full case at the hearing (Westgem at [89](a)–(b)). Where the applicant is well-resourced and has been legally represented throughout, the argument carries particular force (at [64]).

Insufficiency of the proposed material.  Following Satterley, the responding party can argue that the proposed new material is insufficient to assist the Tribunal. If the applicant proposes submissions without evidence, the respondent can point to [43]–[44] of the decision and submit that the threshold has not been met.

Prejudice and delay.  The responding party should quantify the likely delay and its impact. In Satterley, the submission that delay would be “measured in months, not weeks” was effective (at [68]). If the new material would require the opposing party to call responsive evidence, the costs and disruption of doing so are relevant.

Second bite of the cherry.  Where the omitted material relates to an issue that was squarely in contest during the hearing, the respondent can argue that the applicant is seeking a “second bite of the cherry” (at [65]) and that the other parties were entitled to rely on the finality of the hearing as conducted.

9.  Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1.  The power to reopen is confirmed but its exercise is restrained.  The Tribunal confirmed that it has power to allow a party to reopen, sourced in ss 32(5) and 34(1) of the SAT Act. However, the power is to be exercised in accordance with the statutory objectives of fairness, expedition, and the principles identified in Westgem (at [17]–[23]).

2.  Submissions without evidence will generally be insufficient.  The most significant principle in the decision is that an application to reopen supported only by submissions, without accompanying evidence, is unlikely to succeed where the new proposal raises factual questions about feasibility and suitability (at [43]–[44]).

3.  The applicant must put forward a “considered proposal”.  The new material must “flesh out and explain what is proposed and how it will work” against relevant policies and frameworks. A bare identification of a theoretical mechanism is not sufficient (at [57]).

4.  Novelty heightens the evidentiary burden.  Where the proposed new approach is unprecedented or extraordinary, the Tribunal will require correspondingly more rigorous evidence to satisfy itself that it is workable (at [45]–[47]).

5.  A new mechanism may solve one problem but create others.  The Tribunal cautioned that while a survey-strata approach might overcome the difficulties with restrictive covenants, it “may well raise other difficulties which, at present, remain unidentified or unexplored” (at [50]). Practitioners must address the full implications of any new proposal.

6.  Well-resourced, represented parties face a higher expectation.  The Tribunal’s observation that Satterley “was aware of the Issue for a long time, is not without resources, and has been legally represented throughout” (at [64]) suggests that the standard of preparation expected of well-funded litigants is higher. The failure to identify alternatives at the hearing stage is more difficult to excuse.

7.  The interests of third parties are relevant.  The Intervenor’s submission regarding the impact on its members and the likely delay was accepted (at [68]). Practitioners should be alert to the interests of intervenors, interested parties, and the broader community when assessing the prospects of an application to reopen.

8.  Pre-hearing preparation is the primary safeguard.  The decision reinforces the fundamental principle that thorough preparation before and during the hearing is the most effective protection against the need to reopen. The expectation that parties will present “all their evidence and submissions at the one hearing” (Westgem at [89](b)) is not merely a procedural preference but a principle grounded in fairness and the public interest.

9.  The SAT will apply court-derived principles, adapted to its statutory context.  The Tribunal’s adoption of the Westgem factors, subject to the SAT Act, confirms that practitioners can look to court authority for guidance on reopening applications, while recognising that the Tribunal’s statutory objectives may modulate their application (at [20]–[22]).

Proving Your Costs Were Incurred: The Evidentiary Threshold for Costs Applications in the State Administrative Tribunal

An Analysis of Kaur and The Owners of Code Strata Plan 58103 [2026] WASAT 40

1. Introduction

In Kaur and The Owners of Code Strata Plan 58103 [2026] WASAT 40 (Kaur), the State Administrative Tribunal dismissed a costs application by the successful respondent strata company. The decision, delivered on 15 April 2026 by Member Oldfield and Sessional Member Smith, turned on a deceptively simple point: the strata company had lodged a clear and well-expressed schedule of costs, but had failed to adduce any evidence that those costs were actually incurred.

The decision warrants attention from practitioners who appear before the Tribunal because it provides a sharp illustration of a principle that is sometimes overlooked in costs applications: that the onus lies on the party seeking costs not merely to quantify the costs claimed, but to prove, by way of evidence, that the costs were in fact incurred. Submissions, however detailed, do not constitute evidence. The decision also addresses the distinct question of whether an unrepresented party’s failure to challenge a costs claim can be treated as an implied admission – the Tribunal held that it cannot, at least where the unrepresented party does not demonstrate a sound understanding of the applicable legal principles.

This article analyses the decision in Kaur, situates it within the broader framework of costs jurisprudence in the Tribunal, and provides practical guidance for practitioners preparing costs applications. The contrasting treatment of costs in Chiropractic Board of Australia and Ebtash [2020] WASAT 86 (S) (Ebtash) – one of the authorities cited in Kaur – is examined as an example of the evidentiary standard that a successful costs application must meet.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

The starting point for costs in the Tribunal is s 87(1) of the State Administrative Tribunal Act 2004 (WA) (SAT Act), which provides that each party is to bear their own costs unless otherwise specified. Section 87(2) confers a discretionary power on the Tribunal to order that one party pay all or a portion of another party’s costs.

The guiding principles applicable to costs applications, as summarised by the Tribunal in Kaur at [5], are well established. The onus is on the party seeking costs to satisfy the Tribunal that it is fair and reasonable to make an award of costs in all the circumstances. The rationale for a costs order is compensatory, not punitive: it exists to compensate or reimburse a party for costs incurred. The presumptions regarding costs which apply in court proceedings – including the general rule that costs follow the event – do not apply in Tribunal proceedings. Where there is a genuine dispute, parties should expect to bear their own costs unless the circumstances otherwise justify an order. A party’s failure to succeed does not, of itself, mean the party has acted contrary to the Tribunal’s statutory objectives.

These principles have been articulated and applied in numerous decisions, but the specific evidentiary requirement – that costs must be proved to have been incurred – was most clearly stated in Ebtash at [143]–[144]. In that decision, President Pritchard observed that the Tribunal must be satisfied that the costs claimed are reasonable and necessary, and that in respect of disbursements, the Tribunal “must know what disbursements have been incurred – a disbursement is unlikely to be allowed without an appropriate invoice being produced” (at [144]).

It is against this framework that Kaur must be understood. The principle that costs must be evidenced – not merely asserted – is not novel. What Kaur contributes is a practical demonstration of the consequences when that evidentiary step is omitted entirely.

3. The Facts of the Case

The substantive proceedings concerned an application by Dr Harjit Kaur under the Strata Titles Act 1985 (WA). The respondent was The Owners of Code Strata Plan 58103 (the Strata Company), which was legally represented by Taylor Smart. Dr Kaur was unrepresented throughout the proceedings (at [9]). The substantive decision was delivered orally on 19 February 2026 and was not published as at the date of these reasons (footnote 1). The Strata Company was entirely successful in defending Dr Kaur’s application (at [6]).

Following its success, the Strata Company applied for costs. The costs application was determined on the documents, without a hearing (at [3]). The material before the Tribunal comprised the Strata Company’s submissions lodged on 5 March 2026, Dr Kaur’s submissions lodged on 2 April 2026, and the Tribunal’s records of the proceedings (at [3]).

The Strata Company’s schedule of costs was described by the Tribunal as “clear and well expressed” (at [6]). However, the Strata Company lodged only submissions in support of its claim; it did not lodge any evidence – such as invoices, receipts, or an affidavit from its solicitors – supporting the schedule of costs (at [8]).

Dr Kaur did not explicitly agree that the costs had been incurred, nor did she specifically oppose the application on the basis that costs had not been proved. The Tribunal observed, however, that Dr Kaur’s submissions demonstrated she did not possess “a sound understanding of the applicable legal principles” (at [9]).

4. Analysis of the Tribunal’s Reasoning

The Tribunal’s reasoning proceeds in two steps, each of which merits analysis.

The evidentiary gap

The Tribunal first identified the fundamental deficiency in the Strata Company’s application: the absence of evidence. At [7], the Tribunal stated that “because costs are in the nature of compensation or reimbursement, it is necessary there be satisfactory evidence that the costs were in fact incurred.” The Tribunal cited Ebtash at [143]–[144] and Panegyres at [415] as authorities for this proposition.

This is the critical passage. The Tribunal drew a clear distinction between a schedule of costs (which quantifies the claim) and evidence of costs (which proves the claim). The Strata Company’s schedule, however clear, was a submission – an assertion of what was owed. Without supporting evidence – invoices, a solicitor’s affidavit, fee agreements, or trust account records – the Tribunal had no basis upon which to be satisfied that the costs were actually incurred.

At [8], the Tribunal put the point bluntly: “the strata company lodged only submissions, and submissions do not constitute evidence.”

The unrepresented party’s silence

The second limb of the reasoning addressed whether the Tribunal could treat Dr Kaur’s failure to challenge the quantum as an agreed fact. The Tribunal held that it could not, for two reasons. First, Dr Kaur did not explicitly agree (at [9]). Secondly, the Tribunal declined to treat her failure to oppose the application on the specific basis that costs had not been proved as an implied admission, because Dr Kaur was not legally represented and her submissions demonstrated a lack of understanding of the applicable legal principles (at [9]).

This reasoning reflects a broader principle of procedural fairness in Tribunal proceedings. The Tribunal was careful not to attribute forensic sophistication to an unrepresented litigant. It would be unfair to infer that Dr Kaur’s silence on a particular point constituted agreement, when her submissions as a whole revealed that she was not in a position to identify the evidentiary deficiency in the Strata Company’s application.

The combined effect of these two findings was decisive: the Tribunal had no evidence that the costs were incurred, and could not treat the absence of challenge as proof. The application was dismissed (at [10]–[11]).

5. Assessing the Consequences

The cost of the evidentiary omission

The practical consequence for the Strata Company was the loss of its entire costs claim. This is a stark outcome for a party that was entirely successful on the merits, and which had engaged solicitors to prepare what the Tribunal acknowledged was a clear and well-expressed schedule. The costs schedule presumably reflected fees that were in fact incurred – the Strata Company was represented by Taylor Smart throughout the proceedings. Yet the failure to take the elementary step of adducing evidence in support of the schedule was fatal.

The irony is that the evidentiary deficiency could have been remedied with relative ease. An affidavit from the solicitor with carriage of the matter, annexing copies of invoices rendered, would likely have been sufficient. The cost of preparing and filing such an affidavit would have been modest in comparison to the costs the Strata Company was seeking to recover.

Contrast with Ebtash

The contrast with the costs assessment in Ebtash is instructive. In that case, the Chiropractic Board of Australia sought costs of $233,899 (inclusive of disbursements and GST), ultimately recovering $178,500 (at [129], [201]–[202]). The Board supported its costs application with an affidavit from its solicitor, Ms M Naylor, dated 28 October 2020, annexing copies of all accounts rendered (at [129]). This enabled the Tribunal to undertake a detailed assessment of each item claimed, allowing or adjusting hours for each category of work. The evidentiary foundation was never in doubt; the only questions were reasonableness and necessity.

The juxtaposition is revealing. In Ebtash, evidence was adduced and costs were recovered. In Kaur, no evidence was adduced and costs were refused entirely. The merits of the underlying substantive proceeding and the quality of the costs schedule were irrelevant in the absence of proof that the costs were incurred.

6. Worked Example

Consider the following hypothetical scenario. ABC Pty Ltd successfully defends a building dispute application brought by a homeowner in the Tribunal. The dispute ran for two days and involved a jointly appointed expert. ABC’s solicitors incurred fees of $18,500 (exclusive of GST) and disbursements of $4,200, comprising the expert’s fee and filing costs.

Scenario A: The Kaur approach

ABC’s solicitors file written submissions in support of a costs application. The submissions set out the legal principles, describe the work undertaken, and attach a schedule of costs itemising the fees and disbursements claimed. No affidavit is filed. No invoices are annexed.

On the reasoning in Kaur, the Tribunal would likely dismiss the application. The schedule of costs, however detailed, constitutes submissions rather than evidence. The Tribunal cannot be satisfied that the costs were in fact incurred, and accordingly has no basis upon which to make an order.

Scenario B: The Ebtash approach

ABC’s solicitors file the same written submissions, but also file an affidavit from the solicitor with carriage of the matter. The affidavit deposes that ABC has been invoiced for the fees and disbursements particularised in the schedule, and annexes copies of each invoice. The affidavit also annexes copies of the expert’s invoice and receipt for the filing fee.

On this basis, the Tribunal has evidence that the costs were incurred. The inquiry shifts to whether the costs are reasonable and necessary – the familiar territory of costs assessment. The Tribunal may allow the full amount claimed or may reduce individual items, but the application will not fail for want of proof.

Analysis

The difference between the two scenarios is not the quantum of the claim or the merits of the underlying proceeding, but the presence or absence of evidence. The additional cost of preparing the affidavit and assembling the annexures in Scenario B would be modest – perhaps one to two hours of solicitor time. The failure to take that step in Scenario A forfeits the entire claim.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following steps are derived from the principles stated in Kaur and Ebtash, and are intended to assist practitioners preparing costs applications in the Tribunal.

1.      Step 1: Identify the evidentiary foundation before drafting submissions

Before preparing written submissions in support of a costs application, identify the evidence that will be relied upon to prove the costs were incurred. This is the threshold question: without evidence, the application will fail regardless of the strength of the underlying submissions (Kaur at [8], [10]).

2.      Step 2: Prepare a solicitor’s affidavit

File an affidavit from the solicitor with carriage of the matter. The affidavit should depose to the total fees invoiced, the total disbursements incurred, and the fact that these costs were incurred in connection with the proceedings. The affidavit serves as the evidentiary bridge between the schedule of costs and the Tribunal’s assessment. In Ebtash, the affidavit of Ms Naylor provided this foundation (at [129]).

3.      Step 3: Annex all relevant invoices and receipts

Annex copies of all invoices rendered by the solicitors and, where applicable, counsel. Annex receipts or invoices for disbursements. In Ebtash at [144], the Tribunal stated that “a disbursement is unlikely to be allowed without an appropriate invoice being produced.” This applies equally to professional fees: the invoice is the primary evidence that the cost was incurred.

4.      Step 4: Prepare a detailed schedule of costs

The schedule should itemise the work undertaken, the time spent, the applicable rate, and the total for each category. In Ebtash, the Tribunal assessed costs item by item (at [157]–[199]), which was only possible because the Board had provided a sufficiently detailed breakdown.

5.      Step 5: Address reasonableness and necessity in submissions

Written submissions should address why each category of work was reasonable and necessary. Anticipate likely objections – for example, whether the time claimed for a particular task is proportionate, or whether it was necessary to brief counsel. In Ebtash, the Tribunal assessed each item against these criteria and reduced or allowed hours accordingly.

6.      Step 6: Do not assume silence is consent

Do not rely on the opposing party’s failure to challenge the quantum as an implied admission, particularly where the opposing party is unrepresented. The Tribunal in Kaur at [9] expressly declined to draw that inference. Practitioners should proceed on the basis that the Tribunal will require proof, irrespective of whether the opposing party engages with the application.

7.      Step 7: Consider the applicable rate

Be aware of the rates allowed under the applicable Costs Determination. In Ebtash at [145], the Tribunal adopted a blended rate of $368.50 per hour for non-counsel legal work, having regard to the two scales applicable over the period and the seniority of the practitioners involved. Practitioners should justify any departure from the Determination rates.

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

The party seeking costs

A party applying for costs should assemble the following evidence and arguments:

Evidence of costs incurred. An affidavit from the solicitor with carriage deposing to the fees invoiced and disbursements paid, annexing copies of all invoices and receipts. This is the minimum evidentiary requirement identified in Kaur at [7]–[8] and Ebtash at [143]–[144].

A detailed schedule of costs. The schedule should be organised by category of work (e.g., preparation, interlocutory attendances, hearing, submissions) with time, rates, and totals for each. The schedule in Ebtash was organised into 22 items, each assessed separately by the Tribunal.

Submissions on reasonableness and necessity. Address why the costs claimed were reasonable and necessary having regard to the nature and complexity of the proceedings. Refer to the applicable Costs Determination to demonstrate that the rates charged are within, or proximate to, the Determination rates.

Submissions on the conduct of the opposing party. If relevant, identify any conduct by the opposing party that impaired the Tribunal’s statutory objectives (Kaur at [5](e)). However, be mindful that a party’s failure to succeed does not, of itself, justify a costs order (Kaur at [5](f)).

The party resisting costs

Challenge the evidentiary basis. If the applicant has failed to adduce evidence that costs were incurred, submit that the application must fail for want of proof, relying on Kaur at [7]–[10].

Invoke the presumption against costs. Emphasise that s 87(1) of the SAT Act provides that each party is to bear their own costs. Costs orders in the Tribunal are the exception, not the rule, and the onus lies on the party seeking costs to justify a departure from the default position.

Challenge reasonableness and necessity. If evidence of costs has been adduced, challenge the reasonableness or necessity of specific items. In Ebtash, Dr Ebtash challenged numerous items and argued that the Board had conducted the proceedings in a way that incurred disproportionate costs (at [139], [192]). Although most items were allowed, the Tribunal did reduce some categories.

Submit that the dispute was genuine. Where the dispute was genuine and the losing party’s position was reasonably arguable, submit that the parties should bear their own costs in accordance with the Tribunal’s general approach (Kaur at [5](d)).

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1.      Submissions are not evidence. A schedule of costs, however detailed and well-expressed, is a submission. It does not prove that the costs were incurred. Practitioners must adduce separate evidence – typically an affidavit annexing invoices – to establish the evidentiary foundation for a costs application (Kaur at [8]).

2.      The onus is on the party seeking costs. The Tribunal will not make a costs order in the absence of a sufficient evidentiary basis. The onus does not shift to the opposing party to disprove the claim; rather, the applicant must affirmatively prove it (Kaur at [5](a), [7]).

3.      An unrepresented party’s silence does not constitute agreement. The Tribunal will not treat a self-represented litigant’s failure to challenge quantum as an implied admission, particularly where the litigant’s submissions reveal a limited understanding of the applicable principles (Kaur at [9]).

4.      The compensatory rationale demands proof. Because costs orders are compensatory rather than punitive, the Tribunal must be satisfied that the costs claimed were actually incurred. A party cannot be “compensated” for costs it has not proved it incurred (Kaur at [5](b), [7]).

5.      Disbursements require invoices. A disbursement is unlikely to be allowed without production of an appropriate invoice (Ebtash at [144]). This principle extends naturally to all categories of costs: the Tribunal needs documentary proof.

6.      The Ebtash costs assessment provides a model. Practitioners preparing costs applications should study the Tribunal’s item-by-item assessment in Ebtash at [157]–[199] as a model for the level of detail and evidentiary support that a successful costs application requires.

7.      Success on the merits is necessary but not sufficient. The Strata Company in Kaur was entirely successful in defending the application. Its schedule was clear. Yet its costs application was dismissed. Success on the merits creates the opportunity for a costs application; it does not discharge the evidentiary burden.

8.      The cost of proving costs is modest. The evidentiary deficiency in Kaur could have been remedied with an affidavit and annexed invoices – a task that would have required one to two hours of solicitor time. The cost of not doing so was the loss of the entire costs claim.

9.      Adopt a robust but evidence-based approach. The Tribunal takes a “robust and broad-brush approach” to costs assessment (Ebtash at [134]) and does not descend into an inquiry into small items. However, that approach presupposes that there is evidence to assess. The broad-brush cannot paint without paint.

10. Conclusion

Kaur is a brief decision, but its practical significance should not be underestimated. It stands as a clear reminder that costs applications in the Tribunal require evidence, not merely argument. The distinction between submissions and evidence is fundamental – and the consequences of overlooking it are absolute.

The decision also carries a broader systemic message. In a jurisdiction where costs do not follow the event and where each party is presumed to bear its own costs, the evidentiary burden on the party seeking costs is not a mere formality. It reflects the Tribunal’s principled approach to costs: that no order should be made unless the Tribunal is satisfied, on the evidence, that it is fair and reasonable to do so.

Practitioners appearing before the Tribunal should treat the evidentiary requirements for costs applications with the same rigour they bring to the substantive proceeding. An affidavit, a set of invoices, and a detailed schedule are the minimum requirements. Without them, even the most meritorious costs application may fail – as the Strata Company in Kaur discovered.