Usually when a friend is dying, there's not much you can do. But what if there was?
James O'Loghlin's best friend at university was Jum Wallner, but once careers and kids came along, they drifted apart. Jum had a pretty good life - married, kids, decent job, home in Canberra - until the day he felt a pain in his side and remembered he had grown up in a house filled with 'Mr Fluffy' asbestos insulation.
Nearly everyone who contracts an asbestos disease gets it from their work and is entitled to compensation or financial support. Jum discovered that if you got one from your home, tough luck. You were on your own. Before he died, he wanted to change that and persuade the government to take care of asbestos victims like him, and their families.
James was keen to help him. But with zero lobbying experience, how were they going to persuade the ACT Labor Government and the Federal Liberal Government to work together to help the victims of the 1000 'Mr Fluffy' affected houses, when each had spent decades suggesting it was the other's responsibility? To make matters worse, it was in the middle of COVID. How were they going to contact, let alone persuade, the busiest person in Australia, Health Minister Greg Hunt? How would they attract national media attention and run what one senior ministerial advisor was to call 'the best community campaign I've ever seen'? Most importantly, as Jum's illness worsened, could they get it done in time?
This is a story about complete amateurs figuring out how to influence government, how friendship can drift and then be found again, and how tragedy can shine a light on what really matters.
