‘The point of cutting down a tall poppy — in the original Australian context — is to keep the flowers’ height uniform. Over time the Aussie slang has come to mean ‘cutting down’ high achievers who stand out in a field of mediocre performers.’
Rachel Ranosa
The concept of cutting down a tall poppy — originally rooted in the Australian ethos — was about maintaining uniformity among the flowers in a field. Over time, this simple agricultural practice has morphed into a national metaphor, symbolizing the societal tendency to “cut down” high achievers who dare to stand out among mediocrity. This phenomenon, known as Tall Poppy Syndrome, is often cloaked in the guise of fairness but is, at its core, nothing more than jealousy.
Take the Novak Djokovic saga, for instance — a textbook example of Australia’s Tall Poppy Syndrome at play.
The Australian Open in Melbourne is just around the corner — kicking off on Monday — and all eyes are on Novak Djokovic as he gears up for another shot at glory. However, the tennis superstar has again made headlines for more than just his preparation. In recent interviews, Djokovic opened up about lingering scars from his dramatic deportation ordeal in 2021, even suggesting that he might have been poisoned during the chaotic episode.
Reflecting on the events of 2021, he described the experience as deeply unsettling, noting that the harsh treatment he received still leaves him feeling wary whenever he arrives in Australia. “I’m still scared when I land in Melbourne,” he admitted, hinting at the emotional and psychological toll the ordeal continues to take on him.
His remarks have sparked a mix of reactions from fans and critics alike. For some, his statements highlight the lingering trauma of what many perceived as an unjust and politically charged incident. For others, his words are seen as an attempt to reignite controversy or draw attention to himself ahead of the tournament.
So what happened? Well, in 2021, tennis champion Novak Djokovic, refused to take the Covid jab for the 2021 Australian Open in Melbourne. Despite being led to believe that he had a lawful exemption, he was detained and deported. Of course, the press covered the whole saga and the Australian Government revelled in the crisis. They clearly wanted to make a point.
Seriously, why was he treated so badly? He’s not a criminal, he is an elite athlete. They stopped him when he arrived at the airport, they interrogated him, and made him sleep on a bench. Then they detained him in a hotel where other rooms were occupied by illegal immigrants. He appealed and initially won, but the Minister used his discretionary power to prevent him from entering Australia. He managed to get transferred to a house and was eventually deported before being able to play. Seriously, why did the Government spend so much energy on him? He had applied in good faith and, let’s be frank, he wasn’t a danger to anybody.
He was healthy (actually, that’s an understatement, he is one of the fittest persons on earth). But, this was not about risks, or facts, or anything rational, really. As an antivax, he was paying for his opinions. He was paying for being perceived as arrogant, and for being the best in his field. This should not be relevant in a visa application, but all was amalgamated.
This went beyond the classic Australian Tall Poppy Syndrome. Simply put, Australians wanted to destroy him. They wanted to make him pay for all their pain & suffering over the last two years, as if he was responsible for it. Somehow, he had managed to crystallise all the hate and frustration.
The thing is, when you look at the cold, hard facts, he’s got nothing to do with what had happened Down Under. Australia was having one of the harshest lockdown regimes in the world and laws kept changing. We were all at the end of our teether. We felt isolated and miserable.
Djokovic’s father might have a point when he claimed his son was a bit like Jesus. God proceeded to provide us with His own Son’s blood through Jesus Christ’s death, to make atonement for our sins. In a similar vein, by being metaphorically crucified by the media and the Australian authorities, Australia was thus sacrificing the best tennis player on earth for the forgiveness of all of Australia’s sins during a difficult pandemic. Djokovic represented the sacrificial lamb.
He paid for the over-the-top Australian laws and policies. The thing is, he had absolutely nothing to do with them.
The sad reality is that, in Australia, it’s not good to stand out. It’s not good to excel at what you do — you will be punished for being too good.
In summary, mediocrity is often rewarded Down Under. As we say in French ‘Un homme averti en vaut deux’ or ‘forewarned is forearmed’.
Raygun
As I pen this, the 2024 Paris Olympics have just wrapped up. Team Australia crushed it — except in breakdancing, where things went, well, sideways.
In stark contrast to Djokovic, who was out when he should have been in, there is the now famous, or infamous depending on how you view things, Raygun, the Aussie breakdancing academic who broke the Internet globally, after she bombed at the Paris Olympics.
In case you missed it, Australian breakdancer Rachael Gunn, aka ‘Raygun’, danced like someone who just had one too many at their sister’s wedding. As stated, her routine, inspired by kangaroos, snakes, and crocodiles, scored a whopping zero points. Imagine dancing so badly that the judges collectively decide you deserve the big, fat goose egg.
The internet exploded, mostly with shock and ridicule. Many were left scratching their heads, wondering if they were the punchline of a very long joke. Clearly, the Olympic judges were not going to reward mediocrity, but that did not deter Australia, where “their girl” was lauded by many, including the prime minister, for representing those traditional Aussie values of ‘giving it a go’ or ‘having a crack’. Raygun and her family and supporters, unfazed, also clapped back at the judges, saying they just didn’t get her ‘musicality’. She remained proud of her Olympic debut, and many in the Australian media, bless them, rallied behind her like she just discovered fire.
People who criticised her performance and inclusion in the Australian team were accused of bullying and even misogyny.
On the other hand, there were plenty of Aussies who were embarrassed by the performance and expressed the view that she was in the team, when, in fact, she should have been out of it.
But really, how was she picked? According to her Macquarie University profile, Rachael is a serious academic with a PhD and an interest in cultural politics. But in a twist of irony, while she might crush it in the lecture hall, on the Olympic stage, she was more ‘kangaroo’ than ‘breaking guru’.
And yet, as I say, Australia is cheering her on. They can’t help but root for the underdog, turning Raygun into a national hero. Further evidence that mediocrity is often rewarded Down Under. Meanwhile, I’m left wondering — whatever happened to good old hard work and actual meritocracy? But hey, maybe that’s just me. It’s one thing about Australia that does not impress me.
