Australia's Native Foods Industry Faces Indigenous Leadership Crisis Amid Boom
On Bundjalung Country in northern New South Wales, chef Mindy Woods breathes in the forest air, scanning the landscape's green hues for native plants like karkalla (pig face) and gulalung (finger limes). For this proud Bundjalung woman, these plants aren't just ingredients—they are kin holding knowledge and memory.
"When I cook with native ingredients, I'm not just creating a dish, I'm continuing a story," Woods says. "I'm honouring a relationship that has existed for thousands of generations. They connect us to Country and to our old people."
The Growing Interest in Bush Foods
Woods founded Karkalla On Country, which began as a restaurant serving locally sourced seasonal produce and native ingredients and now offers courses and cultural experiences on Bundjalung Country. She represents one of many First Nations chefs and business owners introducing an increasingly interested public to native foods—some of which have been labeled as "superfoods" and swept into wellness trends.
However, not all those purveying Australian native foods come from First Nations communities. A recent article published in the Australian and New Zealand Journal of Public Health warned of non-Indigenous businesses exploiting Indigenous food knowledge without proper community consultation.
The Stark Statistics of Indigenous Participation
Researchers from the University of Queensland revealed troubling statistics: as of 2022, Indigenous-owned businesses accounted for only 1% of the native food industry's $80 million output. First Nations people also made up fewer than 1% of growers, farm managers, and exporters in the sector.
Dr. Luke Williams, a Gumbaynggirr man and co-author of the University of Queensland article, identifies the lack of Indigenous leadership as "a big problem plaguing the industry." He describes a form of "black cladding" where non-Indigenous companies use Indigenous art, languages, or traditional stories on labels to imply First Nations input that doesn't exist.
"It tricks the consumer," Williams explains. "They might use names for particular plants to look more Aboriginal."
The Cultural Impact of Appropriation
Dr. Alana Gall, a Truwulway and Litamirimina woman who sits on the board of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Expert Working Group on Indigenous Cultural and Intellectual Property, says black cladding undermines reconciliation efforts.
"You've got people purposefully using our knowledge and imagery for personal gain," she states. "It goes against everything we are trying to change."
Gall notes that the western legal system remains ill-equipped to protect Indigenous cultural knowledge—which is holistic, collective, and ancient—from appropriation by non-Indigenous businesses. The Indigenous cultural intellectual working group is developing guidelines to help ethical businesses use native products appropriately.
"Plants for us are not just food, they are medicine, they are kin," Gall emphasizes. "A lot of us see them as our ancestors."
Beyond Products: People, Story, and Respect
Yuandamarra, a Bundjalung, Gumbaynggirr and Jiman elder who co-founded Red Centre Enterprises, explains that native plants represent more than commercial commodities—they are family, teachers, and ancestors.
"You don't just take what you want. You ask. You listen. You give back," he says. This knowledge, lived and passed down through generations, ensures sustainable harvesting that prioritizes the health of Country over short-term profit.
Yuandamarra asserts that "Australia's First Peoples are not stakeholders in this industry, they are its source." He emphasizes that Indigenous communities have been caring for, cultivating, and trading native foods for thousands of years, making the industry's existence possible.
Aunty Dale Chapman, a Yuwaalaraay Kooma woman and founder of My Dilly Bag, warns that without Indigenous leadership, "the industry risks stripping these foods of their context and commercializing them without consent."
"For us, it's not just about products, it's about people, story and respect," Chapman declares.
Pathways Forward: Certification and Collaboration
Williams acknowledges there is space for non-Indigenous businesses in the industry, noting that Aboriginal communities often lack the capital to bring products to market without commercial partners. "There are examples of companies that are trying to do the right thing," he observes.
He suggests investing in First Nations communities' capacity to enter the industry would benefit everyone, bringing a wider range of bush foods to market. Williams proposes a tiered certification system to help consumers identify:
- Brands that are 100% First Nations-owned
- Businesses that formally give back to communities
- Companies that simply use native produce
Woods recommends an appellation system similar to Europe's protected designation of origin model. Any certification framework would require a managing body and external funding source to serve the entire industry rather than specific segments.
Industry Perspectives and Benefit-Sharing Models
Some non-Indigenous native food businesses attempt to bridge the gap through benefit-sharing arrangements. Land Lab, which produces a bush food-inspired prenatal supplement, uses revenue to fund supplement access for women in rural and remote communities.
A Land Lab spokesperson explains this approach "reflects a commitment to redistributing value, not just extracting it," though acknowledging it's "not a direct substitute for Indigenous equity."
Other industry participants emphasize non-Indigenous contributions. Julie Merlet, founder of the non-Indigenous wholesaler NATIF (Native Australian Traditional Indigenous Foods), states that non-Indigenous growers and harvesters "were a major part of the supply chain for so many years and they were trailblazers, and still are."
"Non-Indigenous people really made the industry what it is today," Merlet asserts, while criticizing businesses that mislead customers about Indigenous ownership. "I have seen some non-Indigenous companies within the industry using art work that looks like they may be Indigenous. I think that's wrong and exploiting that."
Merlet supports Indigenous food sovereignty as "a right of Indigenous people" and advocates for "an all-inclusive ethical native foods industry." NATIF reports donating $63,000 to the Traditional Homeland Enterprise for Kakadu plum and purchasing over $160,000 worth of products from First Nations growers.
The Shift Toward Indigenous Ownership
Creative Native Foods, a 25-year-old company, recently became 100% First Nations-owned after acquisition by Cooee Foods Australia. Chief executive Terri-Anne Daniel, a Wiradjuri woman, says the industry has reached an "inflection point."
"Participation alone is not enough if ownership and economic benefit sit elsewhere," Daniel observes. "Indigenous leadership brings a level of cultural authority that is increasingly important to consumers."
The native food industry currently focuses on 13 "priority foods" identified by the now inactive Australian Native Foods and Botanicals organization: anise myrtle, bush tomato, Davidson plum, desert lime, finger lime, Kakadu plum, lemon aspen, lemon myrtle, mountain pepper, muntries, quandong, riberry, and wattle.
As interest in these native ingredients continues to grow, the central question remains how Australia can develop an industry that respects Indigenous knowledge while ensuring economic benefits flow to the communities that have stewarded these foods for millennia.
