Modbury mood swings

The northern suburbs of Adelaide may not command national headlines, but the voters of Makin often serve as a weathervane for federal politics. With its quiet rows of post-war homes, fast-expanding townhouse estates, and a patchwork of shopping strips and multicultural eateries, the division has long mirrored the currents that shape elections more broadly. Now, as the country edges toward another vote, Makin is again drawing attention for its ability to reflect national voting patterns, shaped by practical concerns and demographic change rather than political turbulence.

Covering a belt of suburbs including Modbury, Para Hills, and Salisbury East, Makin’s story is familiar to many outer-metro electorates. The population hovers around 150,000. The median age is 38. Employment is spread across healthcare, manufacturing, construction, and retail. Income levels are modest. The area is neither inner-city cool nor rural heartland—rather, it sits firmly in that grey zone where elections are won or lost. And unlike the increasingly gentrified or rusted-on parts of the country, Makin has remained open to persuasion.

The electorate’s ethnic make-up reflects a shifting Australian identity. A sizable proportion of residents were born overseas, with India, Vietnam, and the UK figuring prominently in recent census data. Cultural diversity is woven into the streets and shopfronts, making this seat one of the more cosmopolitan in South Australia. But it’s not the polished multiculturalism of city marketing brochures. Here, the issues are less abstract—housing supply, health access, job security, congestion. They matter not as slogans, but as daily irritants.

Tony Zappia, the Labor MP who’s held Makin since 2007, enters the 2025 race with his usual low-key persistence. His electoral history is enviable but not untouchable. In the 2022 election, he recorded 46.3% of the primary vote, down by just over two percentage points from the previous cycle. The Liberals, then represented by Alan Howard-Jones, pulled 31.4%, with The Greens nudging above 11%. None of the numbers are shocking, but they confirm what strategists already know: this isn’t a seat anyone can take for granted.

This time, Zappia faces Irena Zagladov for the Liberals. She brings a blend of small business experience and civic engagement, aiming to tap into voter anxiety around the cost of living and economic direction. While she doesn’t yet have the same name recognition, she is backed by a party machine that knows the value of a South Australian gain. Her team is leaning hard into issues like energy affordability and road upgrades—solid, grounded territory that aligns with feedback from door knocking.

On the margins, other candidates seek to shape the narrative in their own way. The Greens’ Samuel Moore represents the younger and more environmentally minded slice of the electorate. His campaign focuses on climate action and rental reform—issues with potential resonance among younger families priced out of the property market. Amelie Hanna, running under the Fusion banner, is carving a niche through tech-savvy messaging and themes of transparency. Meanwhile, Mark Aldridge of Trumpet of Patriots positions himself as a voice for civil liberties, though with limited traction outside a core circle.

Alison Dew-Fennell of One Nation and Sue Nancarrow of Family First are both speaking to more socially conservative voters. Their messaging pivots around immigration, education, and family values. While their overall vote shares are unlikely to challenge the frontrunners, they could influence preference flows. Geoff Russell of the Animal Justice Party, with a platform centred on animal welfare and biodiversity, adds yet another layer to an already wide field.

On the ground, what voters talk about is far from ideological. Road safety has come to the fore, particularly in light of data showing that Curtis Road between Munno Para and Angle Vale has seen 143 crash-related injuries or deaths since 2019. Population growth, once a measure of economic success, is now a source of frustration. New estates appear faster than the services needed to support them. Locals complain of clogged roads, delayed bus routes, and GP wait times that stretch into weeks.

Healthcare, particularly emergency department access, has become a pressure point. Reports from late 2024 showed EDs operating at capacity, with some patients treated in corridors for lack of space. Ambulance ramping remains an issue. The Liberals have pointed to state Labor’s management; Labor points to federal investment programs. Voters, meanwhile, just want a solution.

The business community, too, is restless. Small retailers and hospitality owners cite public holiday penalty rates as a recurring problem. Some close on major trading days rather than risk running at a loss. The complaint is not ideological—it’s arithmetic. For many, the maths no longer works. These are businesses embedded in their suburbs, run by families, staffed by students and migrants, and critical to the local economy.

Then there’s the intangible frustration: a sense that things aren’t improving fast enough, or visibly enough. That politicians talk about transformation, but daily life stays cluttered with practical problems. This is where digital campaigning has made its mark. Minor parties are particularly active online, appealing to voters who’ve switched off from major party messaging. While the influence of online activism can be overstated, it’s clear that the digital ground game is stronger than ever—especially for candidates outside traditional media interest.

Voter turnout in 2022 stood at a healthy 90%, with an informal vote rate of just over 5%. The two-party-preferred result tilted modestly towards the Liberals, with a 1.5% swing. These figures suggest a population that still believes elections matter, but is open to persuasion. The risk for incumbents is complacency. The risk for challengers is overreach.

As ballot papers are prepared and campaign posters begin to appear on street corners, the story of Makin will again be written in doorways, shopping centres, and school car parks. For all the campaign colour and party press releases, this seat tends to be shaped by quiet conversations and lived reality. If there’s a shift coming, it won’t be announced with fanfare. It will register as a gentle nudge—a mood swing, not a landslide. And in that quiet recalibration, Makin may once again tell a national story.