With the world’s coal towns facing the threat of extinction, the community of Collie in Western Australia offers a promising example of how to survive – and even thrive in – the global transition to net-zero emissions.

One evening in 1883, stockman George Marsh was tending his sheep in the lush, undulating hills of the Collie River Valley in Western Australia (WA). As dusk fell on the wild terrain, Marsh gathered some dark rocks from the river’s edge and placed them around his campfire. But to his amazement, the rocks set alight. 

Such were the humble origins of the coal mining industry in Collie – with the birth of the eponymous town following shortly after. And 130 years on, coal still runs as deep through Collie’s culture as the rich seam of fossilised carbon beneath the ground.

Located on land belonging to the Indigenous Wiilman Noongar people, the area was colonised in the 1880s after Marsh’s discovery. It soon became the heart of coal mining and coal-fired energy production in the state, and its two coal mines and three coal-fired power plants have powered the South West Interconnected System, WA’s main electricity grid, since 1931.

“Growing up here, I remember feeling the tremors every evening from the underground explosions,” recalls Ian Miffling, current President of the Shire (Mayor) of Collie. Collie eventually switched from deep underground mining to opencast mines in the 1990s. Today, to visit the opencast mines at the edge of town is to enter another world; vast yawning greyscale chasms as far as the eye can see, an anthropogenic landscape of epic proportions. The eye struggles with the perspective: thirty-tonne dozers and dump trucks appear like children’s toys on a moonscape. 

Around 1,300 of Collie’s 9,000-strong population work in the coal industry – a number closer to 1,800 when you consider contractors and ancillary workers. At the town’s heart, the highstreet is bisected by a solitary train track; an integral artery whose sole purpose is to inexorably pump out coal from Collie’s mines to the various power plants that keep the lights on across Western Australia.

Collie is a microcosm of the transformation underway in the global coal industry. As the world’s coal-producing regions struggle to decarbonise their economies by mid-century without devastating local communities, the diminutive Collie offers a promising blueprint for a ‘just transition’ away from coal – one that pays due respect to the human and labour rights of its workers. With the energy transition likely to cost over 1 million coal-related jobs worldwide by 2050, Collie has successfully garnered close to A$700 million in investment to retrain and repurpose its coal workforce, revitalise its highstreet and tourist economy, and attract new green industries such as battery energy storage, green steel, graphite processing and magnesium refining.

“Coal is in my blood,” says Chad Mitchell, a third-generation coal miner at Griffin Coal, whose family have called Collie home for six generations. Despite the challenges posed by his employer’s precarious future, he remains hopeful. He is due to take early retirement but he’s been impressed by the retraining opportunities available to younger miners. “The unions have stepped in as a wedge, making good decisions and helping us get a solid plan. The guys at work can do courses within or outside their trades – knowledge is nothing to carry.”

This progress, however, wasn’t imposed from above – it’s the result of a community-led, cross-stakeholder collaboration, forged by almost two decades of painstaking struggle. Having powered the region for over a century, Collie’s public coal-fired power plants, the Muja and Collie power stations, will gradually be switched off by 2029; and the future of town’s coal miners, Griffin Coal and Premier Coal, and its sole private coal power station Bluewaters, lie in doubt. But with this Damoclean sword hanging over the town, the government, unions, businesses, and – most importantly – the community itself have been co-creating a transition plan that will ensure jobs, community stability and economic sustainability. And with regions from Appalachia (US) to Shanxi (China) facing similar challenges, Collie’s holistic, worker-focused approach could serve as an important global template for coal towns looking to thrive in a carbon-free future.

“The world has no choice but to move on from coal; but coal communities like Collie need to have a renewed future that guarantees workers the support, income and opportunities they need to transition to new sustainable industries,” says Sharan Burrow, special advisor to the International Energy Agency’s Global Commission on People-Centred Clean Energy Transitions and former General Secretary of the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC). 

“Collie is a remarkable example that has all the right ingredients. The unions, the government, the community, the employers all recognised their future was bound together and have taken seriously the challenge of co-creating it. It's not a done deal yet, but it's certainly on the right track.”

The cost of inaction

The term ‘just transition’ is a misnomer. There is no industrial or economic transition in history that has been perfectly just; there have always been at least some people or communities left behind in their wake. That is particularly the case for towns like Collie, which owe their entire existence to the coal seam running beneath them – “it’s not just closing the coal industry, it’s unraveling the social fabric of community,” says Dr. Caleb Goods, senior lecturer of Management and Employment Relations at the University of Western Australia (UWA) Business School, and a leading expert on labour and energy transitions. Nevertheless, such transitions must be judged on a spectrum of justness; with the ultimate aim of bringing along as many as realistically possible. It’s a sisyphean task, but it is better attempted than not. History is littered with examples of what happens when the task is ignored or goes wrong: communities in northern England and Appalachia in the US still today feel the devastating economic and social ramifications of the gutting of their coal industries in the 1980s. Many historians even believe that the groundswell political movements that led to Brexit and the rise of Donald Trump can trace some of their roots back to Thatcher and Reagan’s poorly-managed coal purges. 

Much of the country’s troubles in this regard derive from decades of political infighting. “Fifteen years of climate policy as a culture war toppled five prime ministers,” Reeve notes. The current Labor government has upped the game, coming in with an ambitious climate agenda. Progress has been stymied, however, by resistance to renewable energy infrastructure in rural regions. The opposition Coalition – comprising the Liberals and the Nationals – have been accused of weoponising this nimbyism, and pushing impractical solutions such as a mass rollout of nuclear power. But in fairness to the country, there are few examples around the world of just transitions done well, and even leaders in the space such as Spain and Germany have found the going tough. 

In Collie, however, lies an embryonic alternative to the typical top-down, state-led approach; offering a promising formula of community-led planning. “Unlike most transitions in Australia, where rhetoric about engagement rarely matches reality, Collie’s workforce and community have been central to shaping their future,” says Bradon Ellem, labour historian and co-author on Goods’s research on coal transitions.

Much of the country’s troubles in this regard derive from decades of political infighting. “Fifteen years of climate policy as a culture war toppled five prime ministers,” Reeve notes. The current Labor government has upped the game, coming in with an ambitious climate agenda. Progress has been stymied, however, by resistance to renewable energy infrastructure in rural regions. The opposition Coalition – comprising the Liberals and the Nationals – have been accused of weoponising this nimbyism, and pushing impractical solutions such as a mass rollout of nuclear power. But in fairness to the country, there are few examples around the world of just transitions done well, and even leaders in the space such as Spain and Germany have found the going tough. 

In Collie, however, lies an embryonic alternative to the typical top-down, state-led approach; offering a promising formula of community-led planning. “Unlike most transitions in Australia, where rhetoric about engagement rarely matches reality, Collie’s workforce and community have been central to shaping their future,” says Bradon Ellem, labour historian and co-author on Goods’s research on coal transitions.

Anger, acceptance, action

Ostensibly, Collie’s transition began in 2017 when the WA Government first announced plans to close Synergy’s Muja A and B sites. By 2022, the WA Government had committed to closing all the town's state-owned coal-fired power plants by October 2029, including the Collie power station which would close in 2027.

But the real story, in fact, started a decade earlier, when a union veteran with a Hells Angel beard and a similar penchant for disruption turned up at a town-hall meeting with the unwelcome news that Collie’s coal industry was living on borrowed time. “Absolutely got my head kicked in,” recalls Steve McCartney, head of the Australian Manufacturing Workers’ Union (AMWU), whose no-nonsense, invective-prone manner belies a deep-seated altruism and care for the common man. “They weren't interested in anything I had to say. They kept reminding me there was 150 years of coal left in that hill outside town.” Backed by a baying crowd of 200 coal workers, one worker stood up and shouted at McCartney, ‘You have no idea: when a baby is born in Collie, the first thing it gets is a tit in its mouth and a piece of coal in its hand.’

Unperturbed by the hostility, McCartney persisted with his attempts to convince the town to transition its economy over the following years. In one meeting he attended in 2018, a “punch-up” broke out in the crowd. In the following meeting, however, McCartney felt the mood shift, and the conversations started to become more constructive. Initially, much of the community was in denial, recalls Miffling. “People thought, ‘It won’t happen’. But gradually, it dawned on people that it was inevitable.” 

Over the subsequent years, those conversations evolved into hard plans. By the time the Government arrived to announce the staged retirement of Muja C in 2019, the town was ready for them; armed with a solid structure and strong principles to guide the transition. “We wanted the town to decide its future, not the Government,” McCartney explains. Residents emphasised the need for sustainable “jobs that create other jobs” that utilised the town’s long-established industrial skills – ones that wouldn’t leave future generations in the same plight. They also wanted to evolve from being a “one-job town,” recognising the vulnerabilities of relying solely on coal.

The establishment of the Just Transition Working Group (JTWG) in 2019 – and its state-run secretariat the Collie Delivery Unit (CDU) – was a pivotal moment. The JTWG brought together all the stakeholders in the transition – the community, the employers, the government, the unions – all under one roof. “We had everyone at the table,” says McCartney. “Decisions could then be made without going back and forth to Perth.” Subcommittees tackled specifics, from job creation to retraining, ensuring every worker had a personalised plan. “We wanted paid training to happen while people were still working, so they didn’t fall behind,” says McCartney. “We saw what happened when Australia’s car industry transitioned: if you wait until after the closures to retrain the workers, it’s already too late.” 

In 2020, the JWTG and the State Government published a Just Transition Plan for Collie built on four key pillars: maximising opportunities for affected workers, diversifying the local economy, celebrating Collie’s history and promoting its future, and committing to a just transition as defined in the Paris Agreement of 2015. To ensure accountability, the CDU implemented a rigorous action register with measurable goals and regular reviews. 

The collaborative approach behind Collie’s transition is built on shared responsibility and collective action. The WA Government spearheaded the process through the Department of Premier and Cabinet (DPC), which through the CDU is held accountable to the JTWG, which in turn ensures decision-making considers the affected workforce and broader community. Having the group within the DPC allows it to cut across departmental silos, ensuring visibility at the highest levels of government and enabling cross-agency collaboration. Fundamental to its success so far has been the JTWG’s members balancing their individual expertise with a shared commitment to the transition. 

Every cog is playing its part: The unions – the Australian Manufacturing Workers' Union (AMWU), the Australian Services Union (ASU), Electrical Trades Union (ETU) and the Mining and Energy Union (MEU) – played an essential role embedding just-transition language into the initial planning efforts, and lobbying for worker-centric metrics like skills assessments, paid retraining and support packages. The Shire Council ensures an open line of communication to and from the community. The state-owned utility Synergy initiated a robust worker transition programme - one that inspired the foundations the Collie Jobs & Skills Centre established for its own support services. And the private mine operators, Griffin Coal and Premier Coal, need to rehabilitate nearly two thousand hectares of old mining land - an important source of jobs after the final 2029 closures and an opportunity to repurpose the land and assets for the new green industries moving in. Each constituent has their role to play. 

Over time, three key principles emerged as the foundation of the transition: creating sustainable jobs, enabling workers to train while employed, and inspiring youth to build their future in the town. “They were damn solid principles,” states McCartney.

The transformation

Collie’s approach has already yielded some impressive results. The WA Government has thus far committed A$662 million to the cause, earmarked for retraining programmes, industrial diversification and infrastructure projects. The town will also benefit from the state’s wider A$3.8 billion renewable energy development programme, including a A$1 billion battery energy storage system (BESS) currently being constructed in Collie.

The funding support for the transition started in 2019, with the State Government committing $115 million to Collie support initiatives, including the establishment of the Collie Industry Attraction and Development Fund, the Collie Small Grants Programme for community grants worth up to $100,000 and the Collie Future Industry Development Fund for grants up to $2 million for companies to invest in Collie. As part of this, $38 million has been allocated for new tourism initiatives including significant investment in public murals, adventure trails, redeveloping recreation sites and renovating the highstreet, and has seen a surge of visitors as a result. Today, walking down renovated Collie’s highstreet, adorned with cosy cafes, street art, verdant flower beds and even an art gallery, it is easy to forget it is a town fighting for its future. It feels more like an old Western saloon town in a gold rush – if a modest one.

“Tourism has been a game changer,” says Hanns. The Collie Mural Trail, featuring over 40 public artworks and the world’s largest dam mural, and Lake Kepwari, a former opencast coal mine transformed into a water-sports hub, are just some of the attractions redefining the town’s identity. “These projects provide entry-level jobs for young people and attract new residents,” Hanns notes. While McCartney was initially skeptical about the impact of these projects, he now sees they played an important role in shifting mindsets and building confidence in the transition. “It created a sense of change, and people started to understand what could be achieved.”

In 2022, the WA Government announced that, alongside A$300 million for decommissioning Collie’s state-owned coal assets, $200m would be allocated to the Collie Industrial Transition Fund to support new large-scale industrial projects in priority sectors such as green manufacturing, minerals processing and clean energy. 

Visiting a swanky new industrial estate on the edge of town, the JUST Stories team drives past a medical cannabis facility, an emergency services vehicle manufacturer and a graphite processing plant, all beneficiaries of the Collie’s industrial lures. We eventually park outside a vast fluorescent green shed, embossed with a bold promise: “Reducing global emissions by 1%.” It is hoped Magnium’s green magnesium pilot plant will become a key component of Collie’s industrial transition. It opened its doors in January 2025, aiming for full-scale production by 2030. 

“We’re targeting 5% of global magnesium demand,” says CEO Shilow Shaffier. “The full-scale facility will span 40 hectares, create over 1,000 construction jobs, and provide 400 permanent positions.” The plant will produce low-carbon magnesium metal, a critical material for electric vehicles and other green technologies. “The location, access to power, and community support made Collie the perfect choice,” he explains, adding that state subsidies have been essential in getting the project off the ground.

On the drive back into Collie, we pass an industrial plot full of what look like shipping containers. This is the Collie Battery Energy Storage System, we’re informed. When operational in 2025, it will provide 500 megawatts of power with 2000 megawatt hours of storage to the South West Interconnected System, with the ability to power 785,000 average homes for four hours. Run by state utility Synergy (who also run the Collie’s state power plants), it will be one the largest battery systems anywhere in the world. “It offers a great opportunity for Synergy's employees,” says Liz Baggetta, Synergy’s head of transition. “Some are already actively engaged in the project as part of their individual transition plans.”

The town is pinning even more of its hopes on Green Steel WA, another cornerstone of Collie’s diversification strategy. The company plans to build a 450,000-metric-ton electric arc furnace, powered by renewable energy. The facility will recycle scrap steel into low-emission products, with the potential to cut 800,000 tons of CO2 annually compared to traditional steelmaking.

We meet co-founder Don Johnston in a plush highrise office in Perth’s financial district, a plucky startup surrounded by the imposing fascia signs of mining behemoths like Rio Tinto and BHP. The company is hoping to generate 217 direct jobs in Collie, and hundreds more in supporting roles. “We’re not just building a plant; we’re creating a long-term ecosystem that supports families and builds community resilience,” Johnston emphasises. The company has ensured that community stakeholders have co-designed the project. “We are giving the community lots of say on the plant’s location, how its run, including working practices, shift types, how the retraining is conducted etc. And we’re ensuring the investors can only come in with a 'take it or leave it' rather than renegotiate with the community,” expands Johnston. He expects the final investment decision by mid-2025 and believes the project aligns with Collie’s workforce strengths: “A coal operator’s skills transfer easily to running or maintaining an electric arc furnace.” 

An important, and often overlooked, part of Collie’s industrial diversification is the rehabilitation of old mining land so it can be used for new economic purposes – an obligation of state mining leases. Collie’s two coal mine operators, Griffin Coal and Premier Coal, have been working to repurpose their former mining sites for tourism, agricultural or industrial use. At Griffin Coal’s Ewington mine, we visit a remarkably lush meadow that not long ago was a great gaping crater to the underworld and now serves as the bucolic home of 800 grazing sheep. Premier has so far rehabilitated 283 hectares of its vast 1,731-hectare site to native vegetation. “Traditionally, mine rehabilitation meant restoring land to native vegetation and walking away,” says environmental superintendent Emily Evans. “Now, we’re asking what industries could operate here as well.”

The final piece in Collie’s transition puzzle is its retraining programme. In 2022, the Government announced a training support package that would expand the existing Collie Jobs and Skills Centre (JSC) to deliver a facility situated – very deliberately – in the middle of the highstreet to provide tailored career and training assistance to residents. In its first year, the Centre has helped over 800 people, developing 265 training plans and enrolling 172 workers in courses. Funding was also committed for new training facilities and a dedicated curriculum fund to develop industry specific skills training to meet emerging needs in Collie “We can’t train everyone at once – new industries are still evolving,” explains JSC manager Nat Cook. “So, we adapt to meet changing needs, offering everything from resume writing to on-site consultations.” The centre’s holistic approach also includes outreach at worksites, ensuring workers can access support while still employed.

Separately, Synergy, which runs coal-fired power stations, has set up its Workforce Transition Program to provide individualised pathways for workers affected by the closure of the Muja and Collie power stations, offering options like retraining, redeployment, voluntary redundancy or retirement. “When the closure announcements were made, we spent six months listening to workers to understand their concerns and goals,” explains Baggetta, who heads up the programme. Based on these conversations, Synergy developed tailored plans to help employees navigate their futures. For instance, Khloe, a young administrator, transitioned into the electrical field with the programme's support. “We sponsored her pre-apprenticeship training, and now she’s in her fourth year as an apprentice electrician, set to qualify in 2025,” Baggetta shares. 

The final piece in Collie’s transition puzzle is its retraining programme. In 2023, the Government allocated $16.9 million to create the Collie Jobs and Skills Centre (JSC), a facility situated – very deliberately – in the middle of the highstreet to provide tailored career and training assistance to residents. In its first year, the Centre has helped over 800 people, developing 265 training plans and enrolling 172 workers in courses. “We can’t train everyone at once – new industries are still evolving,” explains JSC manager Nat Cook. “So, we adapt to meet changing needs, offering everything from resume writing to on-site consultations.” The centre’s holistic approach also includes outreach at worksites, ensuring workers can access support while still employed.

Separately, coal plant operator Synergy has set up its Workforce Transition Program to provide individualised pathways for workers affected by the closure of the Muja and Collie power stations, offering options like retraining, redeployment, voluntary redundancy or retirement. “When the closure announcements were made, we spent six months listening to workers to understand their concerns and goals,” explains Baggetta, who heads up the programme. Based on these conversations, Synergy developed tailored plans to help employees navigate their futures. For instance, Khloe, a young administrator, transitioned into the electrical field with the programme's support. “We sponsored her pre-apprenticeship training, and now she’s in her fourth year as an apprentice electrician, set to qualify in 2025,” Baggetta shares. 

And although Collie’s transition is still in its infancy, these efforts are already starting to bear fruit. Maintenance workers at Griffin Coal have received a 43% pay rise, paid-time training, a 25% uplift to their redundancies, a A$30,000 retention package and the establishment of paid-time ‘work councils’ as a direct result of the just transition process. Similarly, Synergy workers have agreed wage increases of inflation plus 1.5% guaranteed until 2029, paid-time training and a 3-month uplift to their redundancies. 

“Without these wins along the way, no worker would trust me when I stand up in a room and say ‘let's get excited about green steel’,” says Darcy Gunning, AMWU’s campaigns organiser. “Just transition should change people's lives right now, not sometime in the future; that is how you start to make the connection in a worker's mind between climate action and their life changing for the better. Creating the momentum and the trust isn't just about having a tripartite working group, it's about delivering in the here and now and attaching that material change to the idea of what's coming next.”

The transition’s successes are also filtering through to the town’s wider economy. Since 2019, Collie’s labour force has grown by 5.4%, its population by 4%, and building approvals have risen fivefold – from a valuing $5.6 million in 2018/19 to $26.8 million in 2023/24. Median house prices have surged 21% in the past year, while annual visitor numbers have also climbed. In fact, Collie has perhaps become a victim of its own success: some of the elderly residents we met on the highstreet complained of the gentrifying impact of Perth retirees moving to Collie for the better quality of life. 

Voices of the transition

For the workers and families of Collie, the transition away from coal is more than a simple job switch or policy shift. In many cases it requires fundamentally uprooting a socio-economic culture and identities that span back generations. Their personal stories reveal a complex and sometimes dissonant array of emotions and sentiments – apprehension, optimism, determination – as they grapple with their uncertain future. 

Pete Wilson is a scaffolder at the Muja power plant and moved to Collie 12 years ago with his wife and children. “My biggest concern is having work,” he says. Reflecting a common fear among Collie’s workforce, Wilson hopes new jobs will be available locally and he won’t have to resort to “FIFO” (‘fly in, fly out’) jobs in remote areas like the Pilbara. “If everything works out how we’ve been planning, it should be a good thing,” he says, cautiously optimistic.

For some, the transition has been an opportunity for personal growth. Phil Massara has worked at Muja for 18 years and was initially apprehensive about the closure plans. “At the start, it was scary,” he admits. But driven by a determination to provide for his two daughters, he turned to education. “I’m a special class welder, and I’m doing my Cert 10 in welding supervision and inspection. It’s hard going back to school after 37 years, but it’s worth it to have something to fall back on.”

Similarly, Wilson’s colleague at Muja, Randy Irving, is gradually starting to see the positives in the transition. “I’m a man of routine, so the announcement was frightening,” he confesses. But the opportunity to retrain and start his own scrap-metal business has provided cause for hope that his future could be even better than his past. “For someone like me, without much formal education, this is a chance to learn something new. A lot of people in Collie are in the same boat.”

The prospect of change has been particularly fraught for multi-generational mining families in Collie. Sean “Kero” Rinder, an earthmoving mechanic at Premier Coal, has worked in the industry for nearly 40 years. “I’ve nearly been made redundant five times as mines have shut and reopened,” he says. At 56, he plans to retire when Premier Coal shuts down, but he’s anxious about the futures of his two sons, who work with him. “They’ve both got 30-year careers ahead of them, and one really doesn’t want to leave town. They’re both worried about what’s next.” Embracing the opportunity to upskill will be essential, Kero says. “Core skills will carry over, but adapting to new industries requires more than just experience.”

Such concerns are not limited to Collie’s workers, but are shared amongst other members of the community. Gemma Miles, a mother of two, believes in the potential of the transition but laments a  lack of communication in the process. “It’s quite confusing,” she says. Nonetheless, she has seen tangible improvements in the town. “The new bike trails and murals – those things make a difference,” she says. Her husband took the family on one of the new bike trails recently. “I was like, wow, this is amazing!” She fundamentally believes tourism and new industries can bring sustainable jobs, but emphasises the need for inclusive planning and better access to information. “There was a meeting about the batteries the other day, but it was at 6.30pm, so none of the parents were able to go.”

Similarly, for resident Leonie Burton, a just transition in Collie means involving the entire community, not just workers. She emphasised the need for a whole-of-community transition; one more observant of the human rights of the Indigenous community and other marginalised groups. While she recognises the progress, she acknowledges the challenges ahead. “In the past, discussions in Perth didn’t involve Collie. The state government is doing better now, but we need more perspectives from those who usually don’t get a voice, like Traditional Owners and people with other lived experiences, such as the homeless or those with mental health challenges.”

The prospect of change has been particularly fraught for multi-generational mining families in Collie. Sean “Kero” Rinder, an earthmoving mechanic at Premier Coal, has worked in the industry for nearly 40 years. “I’ve nearly been made redundant five times as mines have shut and reopened,” he says. At 56, he plans to retire when Premier Coal shuts down, but he’s anxious about the futures of his two sons, who work with him. “They’ve both got 30-year careers ahead of them, and one really doesn’t want to leave town. They’re both worried about what’s next.” Embracing the opportunity to upskill will be essential, Kero says. “Core skills will carry over, but adapting to new industries requires more than just experience.”

Such concerns are not limited to Collie’s workers, but are shared amongst other members of the community. Gemma Miles, a mother of two, believes the potential of the transition but laments a  lack of communication in the process. “It’s quite confusing,” she says. Nonetheless, she has seen tangible improvements in the town. “The new bike trails and murals – those things make a difference,” she says. Her husband took the family on one of the new bike trails recently. “I was like, wow, this is amazing!” She fundamentally believes tourism and new industries can bring sustainable jobs, but emphasises the need for inclusive planning and better access to information. “There was a meeting about the batteries the other day, but it was at 6.30pm, so none of the parents were able to go.”

Similarly, for resident Leonie Burton, a just transition in Collie means involving the entire community, not just workers. She emphasised the need for a whole-of-community transition; one more observant of the human rights of the Indigenous community and other marginalised groups. While she recognised the progress, she acknowledged the challenges ahead. “In the past, discussions in Perth didn’t involve Collie. The state government is doing better now, but we need more perspectives from those who usually don’t get a voice, like Traditional Owners and people with other lived experiences, such as the homeless or those with mental health challenges.”

Blinds spots and challenges

Collie’s just transition, like nearly all others underway around the world, inevitably has its blind spots and uncertainties. Looking ahead it faces a series of challenges that could threaten to derail it before it reaches the finish line.

Chief among them is finding replacements for the sheer number of coal-related jobs that will be jettisoned. A common concern for policymakers all over the world is the fact that new green industries typically require less manpower than their fossil-based predecessors, they are often not located in the same areas and the salaries typically pale in comparison. At least for the foreseeable future, the jobs promised by new employers in new green industries like International Graphite, Magnium and Green Steel WA will only number in the hundreds – far short of the 1,800 coal-related jobs that the AMWU estimates need replacing in Collie. And that’s if they come through: many are still in the early stages of feasibility studies and await external funding. “The outcomes are still up in the air. Without multiple large-scale projects, the wheels could fall off,” warns UWA’s Goods, highlighting the risk of overpromising. 

Compounding that uncertainty is the timing of the private closures. In Collie, the mines and the power stations are commercially dependent on one another: Premier Coal feeds the Muja and Collie power stations and Griffin Coal serves the Bluewaters power station. Premier Coal is expected to shut when the last unit of Muja closes in October 2029. But the future of Griffin Coal and Bluewaters is still an open question. Griffin entered administration in 2022 and is currently being kept afloat by a public funding agreement, which is set to end in 2026. If it isn’t renewed, which looks likely, that would spell the end of Bluewaters too. “This whole thing is a ticking clock,” says Gunning. “As soon as one domino falls, it’s a scramble to keep the rest upright.”

The upcoming elections also loom large over the town. A change of government threatens to undo the current Labor Government’s painstaking plans for a just transition. On top of their aforementioned appeals to nimbyism, the opposition coalition have set out proposals to shift the country’s energy transition from renewable to nuclear power. This would include extending the lives of coal-fired power plants and building seven nuclear plants across the country betweem 2035 and 2050, including one on the site of Collie’s Muja power plant; plans that would directly undermine the town’s efforts to transition away from coal. Just before we arrived in Collie, the Labor and Coalition party leaders had come to the town on charm offensives for their respective visions – we did not meet anyone in favour of “the nukes” however, instead spotting a number of three-eyed fish stickers around town. 

Cultural and social factors add another layer of complexity. For many workers in Collie, mining makes up a vital part of their identity; passed down through the generations. And some of the younger workers have shown a reluctance to retrain for new green industries. McCartney recalls one young miner telling him, “My grandfather was the best dozer operator in Collie, and my dad was the best grader operator. Chicks dig guys who drive dozers and graders; they don’t dig guys in lab gear.” Similarly, many of the older coal workers lack formal education and basic literacy skills, making training them for the new highly skilled manufacturing jobs a daunting challenge. At a town meeting, one worker admitted, “I left school at 13 and never trained; I don’t even know how.” 

Around 10% of the workforce are still “grumpy with the transition”, according to McCartney, believing that the coal industry can continue. Indeed, one miner we met at the Ewington mine believed that the Bluewaters power station would have to stay open to power the new Green Steel WA plant, due a lack of sufficient supply of renewable energy.

And as Burton alluded to earlier, Collie’s transition has come under fire in certain parts of the community for its perceived lack of inclusivity and failure to attend to the human and labour rights of residents beyond the workforce. A recent survey of 200 residents selected by the Climate Justice Union, a coalition of community stakeholders, revealed that fewer than half feel they have a voice in Collie’s Just Transition Plan, and only 35% believe the process is fair. Aboriginal voices, in particular, have been marginalised, with Wilman Traditional Owners excluded from much of the planning. Phil Ugle, a Wiilman Noongar Elder, expressed frustration: “There’s been no clarity on the transition process at all. It’s impossible to get information on it. The mining industry destroyed the landscape here, and now this transition risks repeating that same cycle of exclusion.”

For Stevie Anderson, another Aboriginal resident, the transition must go beyond industry. “Collie wasn’t always a mining town,” she says. “The Elders should be centered in the process so they can show everyone how best to look after Country and the river.” Without greater inclusivity, the transition risks perpetuating historical injustices while failing to address broader community needs.

There are, however, potential solutions to these issues. Through a participatory research process facilitated by the Climate Justice Union and Edith Cowan University’s (ECU) Centre for People, Place and Planet, community members have called for Collie’s training and educational programmes to be expanded to include hospitality, nursing, aged care and environmental studies, in order to service marginalised communities. Additionally, they advocate for a ‘Cultural Ranger’ programme to employ Wiilman traditional owners to care for the land in culturally responsive ways. Wiilman Elders have a unique knowledge of the land and its ecosystems, shaped by more than 65,000 years of stewardship. “Who better than us? We’ve managed a climate transition before. It was 10,000 years ago and called the Ice Age,” quips the affable Ugle with characteristic candour.

As Dr Naomi Godden of ECU’s Centre for People, Place and Planet explains: “The deep knowledge held by Elders and their place-based understanding can guide Collie’s transition, addressing existing and historical injustices to create a more equitable future.” Similarly, setting up a separate grants stream for Aboriginal-owned businesses could serve as a form of restorative justice.

The CJU is also looking for the transition to serve the needs of other marginalised communities. Addressing the town’s affordable housing crisis through the construction of climate-resilient public housing would not only provide quality homes but also create a decade-long construction industry. Similarly, investing in childcare infrastructure would enable more women to participate in the workforce. “Childcare is essential,” Godden notes. “It creates opportunities for women to work, study or transition into new industries, while improving early childhood education in the town.” The care economy presents another untapped opportunity: expanding mental health, disability and aged care services could generate stable jobs, diversifying the economy while also addressing critical social needs.

Finally, offering some salve for the workers’ troubles, the decommissioning of Collie’s coal mines and power plants provides an opportunity to create a bridge for workers as the town transitions to new industries. “We’ve got eight to ten years of just cleaning up the mine,” says McCartney. “That gives workers a chance to develop transferable skills for other industries, like lithium mining, without having to leave the region.” The unions are also fighting for Collie’s ancillary coal workers, such as those involved in the regular shutdown rotation, to be formally recognised by the transition process, thereby providing them with the same opportunities and benefits as the other coal workers.

A global blueprint for the coal transition?

The global push toward net-zero emissions is accelerating the decline of coal, which is good news for the climate, but spells potential disaster for coal-dependent communities like Collie. Coal still provides 36% of the world’s electricity and supports the livelihoods of 8.4 million workers worldwide, with many regions almost entirely dependent on it to fuel their economies. For instance, the half a million coal miners of India’s Jharkhand and Chhattisgarh states are staring down the barrel as the country transitions to renewable energy. South Africa’s Mpumalanga province, which generates 80% of the country’s coal and employs nearly 90,000 people in the sector, is facing coal-related job losses under the country’s Just Energy Transition Investment Plan. And the 80,000 miners of Poland’s Silesian coal basin are at risk of the EU’s goal to phase out coal entirely by 2050. Without proper transition strategies, these communities are destined for high unemployment, social dislocation and growing inequality – the impacts of which will reverberate throughout their societies for decades to come.

Globally, effective transition strategies are thin on the ground and are therefore worth their weight in gold for policymakers and researchers in search of inspiration. Although there will be no cookie-cutter approach, and every transition will need to be developed according to the idiosyncratic conditions and circumstances of the affected community, there are some vital and transferable lessons to be learnt from Collie’s experiences so far.

Collie’s approach is a leading example of a “progressive and dynamic” consultation process that prioritises the voices of workers, according to Goods. “Not all workers are enthusiastic about the transition; some are skeptical or see coal as part of the town’s future. But they recognise the transition’s value for their children and the community,” Goods observes. Unlike in many of the world’s coal regions, Collie’s transition has been characterised by cooperation rather than discord, thanks to the committed collaboration between workers, industries and policymakers.

And many in Australia and beyond have already started to take notice. Australia’s new Net Zero Economic Authority (NZEA) has identified Collie as an early priority, recognising its potential as a model for other transitioning coal towns in the country. And according to Miffling, the town has received expressions of interest from the likes of the United Arab Emirates, the US’s Eastern Seaboard and the Canadian province of Saskatchewan. “Maybe we’re a bit of a trendsetter,” he jests with an avuncular wink. “If this leads to new industries, retrained workers and a happy community, perhaps that’s the ultimate measure of success.”  

Collie has benefitted from a set of unique conditions: a highly unionised workforce, historic ties to the Labor Party and the state ownership of key assets like the Muja and Collie power stations. Such conditions for cross-stakeholder collaboration can also be found in the likes of Germany and Scandinavia, but remain rare elsewhere in the world. “In places like in Appalachia, the absence of organised labour and political commitment often leads to disaffection and even the rise of far-right politics,” states Ellem. 

Additionally, Collie’s compact size and proximity to emerging industries like green steel and renewables serve as a distinct advantage. As such, Goods believes the model’s replicability will be limited to only certain cases. Large and more dispersed coal regions like Appalachia and Poland’s coal basin will find it much tougher to create enough new jobs and infrastructure. “Even in Collie, bridge transition opportunities are only beginning to emerge,” Goods notes. “Reaching the finish line, where a community has secure, green job opportunities, is an incredibly hard task – and one that will look different for every region.”

Nonetheless, for those regions already on – or about to embark on – that journey, there may be some transferable tips to be garnered from what worked, and what didn’t, in Collie’s case. First and foremost, it’s important to underscore that A$662 million comes in handy. These figures are not only impressive, but hard to find comparison globally, which is troubling, as they signify the investment required in effective transitions.

More practically, transparency has emerged as a cornerstone of the Collie’s transition. “When there’s a void of information, it gets filled with speculation, creating uncertainty,” says Paul Irving, Griffin Coal’s environment, community and governance manager. For instance, while announcing the closure dates of power plants was initially feared, engaging the community directly and candidly built trust in the process. 

Secondly, the unions discovered that tactically targeting their campaigning efforts reaped larger rewards. “We convinced the town first, who then pressured the companies to get on board,” recalls McCartney. And in the political arena, the unions first targeted the marginal figures in the Upper House, whose support then put pressure on the Lower House to get involved too. “I just wish I started lobbying the government earlier – at the same time I first approached the community. We’d be a lot further down the line if I had,” laments McCartney.

Timing is another fundamental element in a transition. “There’s this misconception that when a power station shuts down, a green manufacturing plant just pops up overnight,” says Gunning. “In reality, you need to focus on land activation and proper sequencing to avoid leaving workers out of jobs for months.” A manager of one of the power plants discreetly informed us he’s operating on the bare bones of staff numbers, despite still having years to come before closure, as employees increasingly jump ship to new industries.

Lastly, and most importantly, none of this would have been possible without getting all the stakeholders around the same table in the Just Transition Working Group, and empowering the community to participate in the co-creation of the process. “The key was how closely the Government worked with the affected communities, treating them as leaders in the process rather than imposing a top-down model,” says Hanns. Baggetta has found the same in Synergy’s workforce transition programme: “You have to plan and act early, iterate, and prioritise a people-first, co-creation approach.” Synergy’s programme is steered by a 40-strong committee of employees. “It means the process takes longer, but the results are worth it and no-one is left behind,” says Baggetta. And for McCartney, the success of the Working Group derives directly from the guiding principles they established for the transition early on in the process. “These principles work, whether you’re in Saudi Arabia or Timbuktu,” he asserts.

Only halfway

But pride comes before a fall, and no-one in Collie is taking anything for granted. The process is far from complete, and the proof will be in the pudding when Muja’s Unit 8 finally closes its doors in October 2029. “We’re only halfway through. There’s still another five years to go,” says McCartney. 

The JTWG is coming to an end of its first five-year implementation cycle, and it’s currently preparing plans for the next one, which will start after the state election in 2025. The CDU says the next phase will focus on securing sustainable industry jobs, expanding tourism and completing the decommissioning of coal sites, while also aiming to align with federal net-zero targets. 

Plans are also underway to attract more small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) to support Collie’s new industries, particularly for the green steel industry. “Manufacturers stick close to green smelters because shipping green iron undermines its environmental benefits,” Steve McCartney explains. The unions are hoping to build a coordinated supply chain in Collie that reduces competition between businesses while also encouraging greater use of advanced tools like robotics. Magnium’s Shaffier elaborates: “As soon as we get up and running, we can spawn off other industries because it's quite simple to take magnesium and go down the road and start a fabrication or alloying company.”

Sitting in on one of the JTWG’s meetings in Collie’s Shire chambers, one feels a palpable commitment to the cause. The room is full to capacity with representatives from each part of the transition; some in their “fluoros”, having just come from their mine or power plant. Each has come with their own agenda to promote, but the overarching air of the interactions is one of collaboration over conflict.

Sitting in on one of the JTWG’s meetings in Collie’s Shire chambers, one feels a palpable commitment to the cause. The room is full to capacity with representatives from each part of the transition; some in their “fluoros”, having just come from their mine or power plant. Each has come with their own agenda to promote, but the overarching air of the interactions is one of collaboration over conflict.

Looking ahead, the 2050 deadline for the net-zero transition inches ever closer, and the world’s chances of keeping global warming at a manageable level diminish by the day. As the dirtiest element in our energy system, coal will need to be jettisoned in most countries well before that deadline. And with so few examples out there of how to make that transition in a fair and equitable way, Collie can be celebrated as an exemplar for how this can be started. The model may be imperfect and have its shortcomings, as with all attempts at just transitions; and, who knows, it may never make it to the finish line. But the ideal of collaboratively designing and creating the social change with and for its impacted community must be seen as the pinnacle of justice within any industrial or economic transition. They know best what they require to transition their economy, and empowering them incrementally to take ownership of that process, instead of promising a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, offers by far the greatest likelihood of success – both for the community and the broader net zero transition.

For a town whose future hangs in the balance, Collie’s residents display a surprising degree of optimism and unpretentious, open-hearted charm. Perhaps, to some extent, that speaks to the reassurance proffered by the transition process itself – even at such an early stage. In Appalachia and the north of England, anger and frustration spread from a sense of hopelessness and a lack of agency and control. Even if Collie eventually does come up short, its fate is more or less in its own hands. And that’s all any of us can ask for.

“If we don’t empower local people when we’re trying to create wholesale change inside their communities, then we’re in the wrong game,” McCartney concludes.