As the #FreeBritney movement rages in the US, everyday Australians are taking notice of the guardianship system here. What can we learn from the pop singer’s fight to take back control of not just her finances, but also her life?
At first, it might be difficult to see the similarities between Britney Spears and Monique Beach.
One is an international superstar who lives in a multi-million-dollar mansion in California. The other is a 48-year-old mother-of-two from Yetman in rural New South Wales, who lives in a small two-bedroom home with a black-mould problem and holes in the bathroom floor.
But each woman is fighting the same battle: for control, independence and autonomy over their finances – and their lives.
Beach’s struggle started a decade ago, when she left a bad relationship and voluntarily entered a financial management order. At the time, she tells Body+Soul, she was depressed, traumatised from the relationship and unable to cope with the pressure of paying off an ex’s debts.
“It was clear I needed help, and someone suggested the [state] might be able to stop all the harassing phone calls, make sure my bills were paid and that my electricity didn’t get cut off. It sounded like a great idea, so I signed the paperwork,” says Beach.
Conservatorship – known as enduring guardianship or financial management in Australia – has made international headlines of late with the release of the Framing Britney Spears documentary and the pop star’s court battle with her father Jamie over control of her finances.
Spears, 39, has been under conservatorship since 2008, following what was described at the time as a breakdown. Late last year, she requested that Jamie be removed from the conservatorship, with her lawyers stating she was “scared” of him.
The case is ongoing – and has people asking: if a person with Spears’ fame, wealth and support is unable to argue she’s capable of making her own financial decisions – despite releasing four albums, completing a four-year Las Vegas residency and appearing as a judge on The X-Factor while under conservatorship – what hope do everyday people have?
“The story of Britney Spears has caught people’s attention, but they don’t realise the extent to which it is happening here in Australia,” says Lucy Williams*, who went to court in March to keep her daughter out of the guardianship system.
“[My daughter] was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia in 2015 and was living in a group home last year when Queensland Mental Health [Commission] submitted an application for public guardianship of her – despite her telling them she didn’t want that.”
In Australia, the state can apply for guardianship for people who can no longer make health and welfare decisions for themselves. They can also put in place a financial management order if a person is unable to look after their finances.
Between 2019 and 2020 in New South Wales, there were 4,014 applications for guardianship and 3,335 for financial management.
Of those cases, the majority were for reasons to do with dementia, intellectual disability and mental illness, with only a small percentage due to alcohol and drug abuse. For the financial management orders put in place, 48 per cent were awarded to private financial managers (who can be family members or friends) and 52 per cent went to the NSW Trustee and Guardian office.
“I was surviving on $200 a fortnight and was forced to beg for extra funds when I needed a pair of shoes or urgent home maintenance,” explains Beach, who says the state threatened to sell her house a number of times.
“When I needed to get my car fixed, they told me I didn’t have enough money and suggested I catch the bus. I live in a village with less than 200 people – there are no buses.”
Dr Alexis Whitton, a Research Fellow and Psychologist at The Black Dog Institute and UNSW, says financial management orders (which can be overseen by family members, friends or the public trustee) should be a last resort.
“Having financial independence taken away can be difficult and disempowering,” she explains. “There has to be very strong evidence that a person with a mental illness requires either a guardian or a financial management order, over informal decision-making support from family, friends, social workers or healthcare professionals. It needs to be in the person’s best interests.”
Williams strongly disagreed that guardianship was in her daughter’s best interests, and she had to plead her case in front of a magistrate.
“My daughter comes from a close knit and supportive family, so there was no need for her to be under public guardianship and lose control of her decision-making power,” she explains.
According to Whitton, a person under guardianship or financial management can apply at any time to have their case reviewed, though the orders do tend to be lasting.
A 2015 Senate inquiry heard guardians sometimes block access to lawyers and advocates and may prevent a vulnerable person from making a complaint. A common criticism of the system is that it’s too controlling of the minute details of peoples’ lives and overly penny-pinching with their finances.
Between 2019 and 2020, there were 700 requests for review of financial management orders in NSW. One of those requests was from Beach.
After years of tears, stress and “bullying,” Beach started the process to regain control of her finances two years ago, with the help of her solicitor friend Judy Scrivener.
On December 11 2020, the NSW Civil and Administrative Tribunal lifted Beach’s financial management order, giving her financial autonomy for the first time in a decade. “It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders,” she tells Body+Soul.
It should have been a happy ending, but Beach is still dealing with the lasting effects of her ordeal. While putting together all the paperwork for the financial management review, Scrivener uncovered a costly mistake: the public trustee had failed to make debt repayments on a loan for several years, resulting in more than $6000 in interest and fees.
Scrivener applied for a debt waiver, which was granted at the start of the year. “In Monique’s case, her finances were completely mismanaged, and the public trustee failed in their duty. There needs to be an independent inquiry to make sure other families aren’t suffering,” she says.
Williams agrees there needs to be an investigation into the billion-dollar industry that tried to unnecessarily take away her daughter’s autonomy.
“When it comes to deciding someone’s fate, that call should be made independently without any bias from organisations that are set to gain financially from public guardianship,” says Williams, who was successful in court. “The magistrate found that [my daughter] had the capacity to make her own choices. And when she said the word, ‘capacity’, I threw my hands in the air [with relief].”
Back in control of her own life, Beach is still saving up to have the holes in her bathroom floor fixed.
From the outskirts of Yetman – which she describes as the “very end of the Earth” – she keeps Spears in her thoughts. “I wouldn’t wish this experience on anyone,” she says earnestly. “I hope she has someone like Judy in her corner. I couldn’t have done it without her.”
If you or anyone you know is suffering mental or emotional hardship, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.
