For the thousands of Australians with disability who rely on the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS), the quality of care they receive is directly tied to the wellbeing of the organisations and people who provide it. Yet today, many NDIS service providers are approaching a breaking point. They face a perfect storm of challenges – capped funding that doesn’t meet real costs, critical workforce shortages, cash-flow squeezes, mounting compliance red tape, and a climate of policy uncertainty. These pressures might sound technical, but they have very real human consequences. When providers struggle or fail, people with disability lose vital support, families are left scrambling, and dedicated support workers burn out. Recent political debates about “aggressive NDIS cuts”​ only scratch the surface of a much deeper crisis playing out on the ground.

Consider the story of Koomarri, a disability service provider in the ACT that has supported people since the 1960s. Late last year, after nearly a decade under the NDIS, Koomarri made a wrenching announcement: it could no longer “subsidise the government’s funding gap” and would have to cut back services​. In one stroke, the organisation let go of 66 clients and 60 staff – half of those staff were people with disability themselves​. One longtime client, Richard Franz, lost not only his support services but also his job of 29 years as a gardening assistant in Koomarri’s program​. “It’s really been a part of Richard’s identity,” his sister said of his work, describing him as devastated by the sudden change​. Now imagine dozens of similar providers across Australia quietly making the same choice: scaling back or shutting down programs because they simply can’t make the numbers add up. This is why the conversation about NDIS provider challenges matters to all of us. Behind every statistic is a person like Richard – and behind every struggling provider is a community at risk of losing care.

_{Funding Caps That Don’t Cover Real Costs}

At the heart of the issue is money: NDIS funding often just doesn’t stretch far enough. The NDIS sets price caps on most services – essentially maximum fees that providers can charge for support hours, therapies, and care. These caps are meant to ensure participant plans are affordable and to prevent price gouging. In practice, however, they’ve become a double-edged sword. Nearly 80% of all NDIS services fall under price-controlled support categories​, which means providers cannot charge above the fixed rates. But those rates often fail to keep up with the actual cost of delivering quality care.

Think of a standard support worker assisting someone with daily activities. The NDIS might allow roughly $70 per hour for this service. Out of that, a provider must pay the worker’s wages (including penalties for weekends or overtime), superannuation, insurance, training, travel, office overheads, and administrative staff. What if those costs add up to $75 or $80 an hour? The simple answer is: the provider loses money on each hour of support unless they find savings elsewhere. For years, many have tried to cope by running lean operations and cross-subsidising – using any small surplus from one service to cover shortfalls in another. But this model is reaching its limits.

Providers large and small point to the NDIS Price Guide as being out of step with reality. In 2024, the NDIA (NDIS agency) did implement a modest price rise to help cover an award wage increase for disability support workers – but it “fell short of the boost needed to cover rising costs,”​ according to industry analysts. Meanwhile, other support categories like therapy, plan management, and some coordination services saw no increase at all​, even as inflation and salaries climbed. Over time, this gap between capped prices and actual costs has widened, squeezing providers’ margins razor-thin. It’s no wonder that in the NDIA’s own Annual Pricing Review, 64% of provider organisations reported financial sustainability as their primary business risk​. In other words, nearly two-thirds of providers are worried they cannot remain viable under current funding settings.

The fallout is evident. Providers that have served their communities for decades are now at risk of unsustainability. “Costs have been compounding year on year,” notes Jo Huxley, an ACT manager with National Disability Services (NDS), the peak body for providers​. The ones feeling it the most are often those supporting people with high needs or complex cases, because these supports are expensive and often exceed what the NDIS funding covers​. Huxley points out it’s “no coincidence that the providers who have been operating the longest are the ones saying they’re really at risk of being unsustainable into the future”​. They’ve exhausted their reserves and workarounds after years of underfunding.

Koomarri’s drastic cutback is a cautionary tale of what happens when funding shortfalls persist. “After a decade of the NDIS we are simply no longer able to subsidise the government’s funding gap,” the organisation stated bluntly as it announced the service closures​. They refused to compromise on care quality or run at a loss, so the only option was to scale down. The result: dozens of people with disability lost services or employment, and families were left in limbo. How many smaller, less prominent providers have quietly made similar decisions? The NDS confirms that across the country service providers are being challenged by funding issues – and participants are feeling the effects​.

Solving this will require revisiting the price caps and funding model. The NDIA’s recent independent review acknowledged that price caps, as currently set, can have “unintended consequences” and often don’t reflect true costs, especially for higher complexity supports​. A more flexible pricing system could involve paying higher rates for complex or rural services (where costs are greater) and ensuring annual price reviews genuinely keep pace with inflation and wage growth. Importantly, when the government moves to rein in the overall NDIS budget growth to about 8% per year​, it must ensure this isn’t achieved simply by freezing provider prices or arbitrarily capping plans. As one disability advocate warned, blunt cost cuts would have “unintended consequences”​ – essentially, forcing providers to cut corners or pull out of the market, which ultimately hurts participants. A fully funded NDIS doesn’t just mean dollars in a budget line; it means making sure the money actually reaches the frontline where care is delivered.

_{A Workforce in Crisis}

If funding is the lifeblood of disability services, the workforce is the heart. Caring, skilled support workers, therapists, and nurses are the ones who turn funding into real outcomes – helping people with disability lead fuller, safer lives. Today, however, there simply aren’t enough workers to meet the demand, and those who are in the sector increasingly feel undervalued and overburdened. The disability support workforce shortage is so severe that it’s been described as a looming “national crisis”​. The numbers are alarming: Australia faces a shortfall of about 100,000 disability care workers​, and a new report found that many who are in the job now are planning to quit in the coming years​.

This shortage didn’t appear overnight – it’s the result of rapid growth in the NDIS (demand for services has exploded) combined with persistent low pay and challenging conditions in the sector. Disability support work is rewarding but tough. It often involves irregular hours, physical and emotional strain, and working with clients who have complex needs. Yet, unlike aged care and childcare – sectors which recently saw government-funded wage boosts of 15% – most disability support workers have not had any comparable pay rise​. In fact, the vast majority of these workers are still paid at basic award rates, typically around $25–$30 per hour before penalty loadings. It’s no surprise that many can earn more stacking shelves or driving a delivery truck. “All of the research shows that we have a major workforce crisis… people not choosing disability work as a career option and those already in the sector looking to leave,” says Lloyd Williams, National Secretary of the Health Services Union​. Put simply, new workers aren’t coming in fast enough, and experienced workers are burning out or finding better-paid work elsewhere.

For providers, this workforce shortage is a daily headache and heartbreak. Shifts go unfilled because no support worker is available to cover them. Programs can’t expand (or even operate fully) because there just aren’t enough hands on deck. Existing staff often work double shifts or overtime, which can lead to fatigue and mistakes, undermining care quality. Providers also invest heavily in recruitment and training, only to see many new hires leave within a year or two due to low pay or stress. This churn adds further cost – it’s said that recruitment is a constant, expensive process now, essentially “a bucket with a hole in the bottom” where new workers pour in and just as quickly pour out again​.

The human cost here is twofold. First, overworked and underpaid support staff struggle to deliver their best. Many love their jobs and form deep bonds with the participants they support, but they also have bills to pay and families to feed. Take Sam Galvin, a 26-year-old disability support worker from Melbourne. He’s passionate about his work, yet he’s “frustrated and looking at other career options” because, as he puts it, after years in the sector “you look around and there’s no way for me to… progress”​​. Workers like Sam are asking for the basics: a living wage, stability, and respect. “We just want a career path, we want good wages and we want training,” Sam says – otherwise even the most dedicated will feel forced to leave​.

The second part of the human cost is borne by participants. High staff turnover and worker shortages mean people with disability often can’t get consistent support from familiar faces. Imagine having to constantly retrain new support workers on your complex communication device, or losing the trusted carer who understood your routines. It’s destabilising. In remote and regional areas, and in Indigenous communities, the shortage is even more acute​. Services may simply not exist because there’s no workforce to run them. A recent report called the lack of services for First Nations people with disabilities a “time-sensitive national crisis”​ – a crisis rooted in workforce and resource gaps.

What’s the solution? It starts with acknowledging that the care workforce deserves much better pay and support. The union representing many disability workers has called on the federal government to fund an extra $5 per hour wage increase for support workers, through a special “NDIS workforce compact”​. They argue – and providers agree – that individual NDIS providers can’t simply hike wages on their own under current price caps; it needs a systemic fix. This proposed plan, estimated to cost around $900 million over three years​, would essentially subsidise providers to lift pay rates above the bare award. It’s a model similar to one used in aged care, where government funds were provided to ensure a pay rise without destroying providers’ budgets. As Michael Perusco, CEO of National Disability Services, points out, ensuring disability workers are fairly paid and have career pathways is “good for workers, it’s good for providers and it’s certainly good for people with disability.”​ In other words, investing in the workforce is a three-way win – it improves staff retention (so providers can operate sustainably), it improves continuity and quality of care for participants, and it treats the workers with the dignity they deserve.

Beyond wages, building a sustainable workforce will also require better training, professional development, and recognition. There are calls for more traineeships and mentoring programs to attract young people into disability support roles, as well as initiatives like a national Care and Support Worker Professional Network to elevate the profession​. The federal government has a National Workforce Plan for the care sector, but as many in the industry have noted, plans and advertising campaigns alone won’t fix the core issue if pay and conditions remain poor​. It will take concrete investment and possibly creative solutions like migration programs to fill gaps, too. As the NDIS continues to grow (participant numbers are still rising each year), the workforce needs to grow with it – by hundreds of thousands of roles. It’s a monumental challenge, but the alternative is an NDIS that exists on paper but not in practice for lack of hands to do the work. We cannot allow the NDIS promise to falter simply because we didn’t adequately value the people who deliver the care.

_{The Cash-Flow Squeeze}

Even when funding is theoretically “enough” on an annual budget sheet, many providers struggle with cash-flow constraints that make day-to-day operations perilous. Running a disability service isn’t like running a typical business where revenue is smooth and predictable. NDIS providers live invoice to invoice, often dealing with delayed payments, sudden changes in client funding, and strict rules on what can be billed. This creates a constant strain on cash flow – the actual money in the bank needed to pay staff and keep the lights on.

One major issue is the way NDIS funds are released. Providers generally bill the NDIS (or plan managers) after they deliver a service. If there’s any hiccup – say, a paperwork error, a contested claim, or a delay in a participant’s plan renewal – the payment doesn’t come through on time. For smaller providers especially, a few late payments can mean not making payroll that fortnight. Additionally, the NDIS has policies around cancellations and “no-shows” that often leave providers bearing the cost. If a participant cancels an appointment at short notice, the provider might not be able to claim the full fee (there are some provisions for late cancellation fees, but they often don’t cover the expense of a paid staff member left idle). Every unfilled hour or unbilled support is lost income, but the provider still has to pay staff and rent in the meantime.

Sudden changes to participant plans present another cash-flow danger. Because individual NDIS plans are reviewed periodically, a provider might suddenly find that a client who was approved for, say, 10 hours of support per week is cut down to 5 hours in their new plan – or even loses funding entirely due to changing eligibility criteria or errors. Shockingly, these cuts can happen with little warning. In one case, a man in NSW who relied on overnight support had his funding inexplicably slashed from seven nights a week to only seven nights per year due to what was later called an “error”​. His family was dumbfounded – and his support provider was suddenly left with a gaping hole in their roster and budget for that service. “They just decided he didn’t need it anymore… It was just cut,” the participant’s father told the ABC​. Imagine being the provider organization in that scenario: you might have a staff member scheduled to provide daily overnight care and overnight supports often require higher pay rates. Suddenly, you can only bill one week of the year for that service. Do you lay off that staff member immediately, or try to keep them on hoping the decision will be reversed? Do you scramble to find the client alternative support (with what resources)? These kinds of abrupt changes, unfortunately, are not rare. Appeals and corrections can take months, and during that time the provider is effectively unfunded for services the participant still desperately needs.

All of this contributes to a feast-and-famine cycle for cash flow that is extremely hard to manage, especially for small and mid-sized providers that don’t have big cash reserves. It’s not unusual to hear of disability service CEOs nervously checking their bank balance while awaiting a chunk of delayed NDIS payments, knowing that wages and tax bills are due in a few days. One provider described it as walking a high wire: you can be doing everything right, providing great care, but a single missed payment or a couple of clients dropping out can push your operation from surplus to deficit overnight. In the worst cases, providers have had to take out loans to cover NDIS payment timing gaps – an unsustainable practice if it continues.

To ease this cash crunch, the NDIA and government could implement a few practical fixes. First, improve the timeliness and efficiency of payments: the NDIS claims portal has improved over the years, but errors and slow approvals (especially for more complex support claims or assistive technology invoices that require manual approval) still cause backups. Investing in faster approvals and more responsive dispute resolution would help providers get paid for services delivered without undue delay. Second, consider buffer funding or advances for small providers – for example, a system where providers can opt for fortnightly advance payments based on service plans (with reconciliation later), so they aren’t out-of-pocket for long periods. Third, expand coverage for cancellations and no-shows so that providers aren’t left carrying the full cost. After all, a support worker’s time is a cost whether the client ends up using the service or not; a more generous cancellation policy (or a centralized fund to compensate unavoidable gaps) would provide stability. Finally, when major changes to participant plans are made, build in transition funding – don’t just cut someone’s support overnight. If a plan is reduced, perhaps require that it tapers off over a couple of months, giving both the participant and their providers time to adjust. This would prevent the scenario of revenue evaporating “in a single breath,” as can happen now.

No small business can function well with such uncertain cash flow, and we shouldn’t expect disability services – which operate on thin margins even at the best of times – to do so either. Ensuring prompt and predictable funding is essential to provider sustainability, and it ultimately means participants get continuity of care instead of disruptive breaks while agencies sort out funding glitches.

_{Buried in Red Tape}

Another complaint you’ll hear from NDIS providers is that the administrative burden is overwhelming. Running an NDIS-funded service means navigating a maze of paperwork, reporting requirements, audits, service agreements, and quality standards. Of course, accountability and safeguarding are vital – we need to make sure public funds are spent properly and that participants are safe from abuse or poor care. But the balance has swung so far towards bureaucracy that providers are drowning in it. Crucially, the NDIS doesn’t directly fund most of this administrative overhead – providers eat that cost themselves​.

Jo Huxley from NDS describes this bluntly: The “overwhelming administrative load” on providers is “not [financially] funded” by the scheme​. “It’s not an efficient system,” she says, “and so much money is being put into back-of-house roles to cover those additional administrative costs.”​ Every hour a provider spends on compliance – filing incident reports, tracking billable hours against dozens of line items, completing compulsory audits – is an hour not spent delivering or improving services. And yet someone has to be paid to do that paperwork. In practice, providers end up reallocating a portion of the funds meant for frontline support to instead cover admin staff and consultants to help keep them compliant. This is effectively an unfunded mandate: follow all the rules to the letter, at your own expense. Larger organisations can absorb some of these costs through economies of scale (e.g. a big provider can have an in-house compliance team and spread that cost over thousands of clients), but smaller ones really struggle. For a tiny therapy clinic or a local support provider, the burden of meeting all NDIS registration conditions can be crushing.

Regulation isn’t just heavy, it’s also complex and sometimes duplicative. In the ACT, for example, Ms Huxley notes that providers face a “dual regulatory environment” – they must report the same information to both the national NDIS Quality and Safeguards Commission and the ACT government for certain services (ABC News 2024). “You’re doing the same thing twice… that’s time and money,” she explains, that could be better spent on service delivery​. This kind of duplication isn’t unique to the ACT; it’s just one illustration of how different oversight systems (federal, state, health, housing, etc.) can overlap. Providers might have to comply with the NDIS Commission’s rules, state disability service standards, health department guidelines (for clinical services), workplace health and safety laws, and so on. Each has its own forms, audits and processes.

On top of that, the NDIS has undergone many adjustments in its first decade, meaning providers have had to constantly adapt to new documentation systems and rules. A provider might spend thousands on upgrading their client management software to meet a new reporting specification, only to have the goalposts shift again with a policy change a year later. All this adds to cost and stress. It’s a running joke in the sector that for every support worker hired, it feels like you need to hire another admin person just to handle the paperwork.

Compliance fatigue is real. It contributes to some providers deciding not to register with the NDIS at all (some remain as unregistered providers serving self-managed participants only, to escape some of the red tape). It also contributes to the decision of providers to exit the sector. The ones that remain committed often do so out of mission and passion, effectively subsidising the true cost of compliance through volunteer overtime or cross-funding. But that’s not sustainable. When providers have to divert dollars and staff time to administration beyond what is reasonable, participants ultimately lose out – either through higher service fees (for private clients) or through providers closing programs that are too administratively onerous.

Streamlining compliance is a must-do part of any solution. The NDIS Review that reported in late 2023 heard these concerns and made recommendations to reduce provider burden. One positive development has been a taskforce looking at the registration and regulation system for providers. It recently recommended a tiered registration scheme – essentially scaling the requirements to the size and type of provider – and other common-sense steps like mutual recognition of standards (so if you meet aged care standards, for instance, it should count for NDIS)​. It even suggests not forcing mainstream businesses to register just to serve NDIS clients (for example, a regular taxi company shouldn’t have to become an NDIS provider to give someone a taxi ride)​. These changes, if implemented, could cut some red tape and let providers focus more on care. The taskforce also floated the idea of unannounced audits for high-risk settings and a universal worker screening/registration​ – measures aimed at quality that could actually help by weeding out bad actors and easing the pressure on good providers who currently cop stricter rules because of a few rogues. The key will be ensuring that compliance requirements are proportionate – tough where necessary to protect participants, but not a blanket burden on everyone for marginal benefit.

Government can also help by funding the costs of quality. It might consider an administration loading in NDIS pricing – a small percentage of funding earmarked for provider overheads – or grants to help providers upgrade systems and train staff to meet new requirements. In other sectors (like education or health), organizations often get capacity-building grants when new compliance regimes are introduced. NDIS providers deserve similar support, rather than just unfunded mandates. After all, every dollar a provider has to pull from service budgets to pay an auditor or fill out forms is a dollar not spent on someone’s therapy or community outing. We need to find a better balance so that accountability doesn’t come at the cost of service availability.

_{Policy Whiplash and Uncertainty}

Lastly, a less tangible but equally important challenge: regulatory and policy uncertainty. The NDIS is still a relatively young system, and it’s evolving. The past year alone has seen a major independent review with 100+ recommendations, an overhaul bill in Parliament, and intense public debate about sustainability. Providers respect that change is needed – indeed many of the reforms are positive – but the churn and uncertainty make it difficult to plan for the future. There is a feeling of “walking on shifting sands”: rules might change, funding structures might be overhauled, whole programs could be in flux.

For example, the federal government has signaled an intent to tighten the growth of the NDIS (to ensure it’s financially sustainable) with bipartisan support to cap annual cost growth around 8%​. This is in response to forecasts that, without action, the scheme’s costs could exceed $100 billion a year by 2030​. Providers understand the need for fiscal responsibility – they too want the NDIS to be here for the long haul. However, what’s unclear is how that savings target will be met. Will it be through efficiency and innovation (which everyone welcomes), or blunt funding cuts? Recent comments from some in the opposition about the scheme being “out of control” have raised fears that a more severe cost-cutting approach could be on the table​. Treasurer Jim Chalmers responded that tying NDIS spending to something like GDP growth would mean “huge cuts” and “send a shiver up the spine” of people who rely on the program​. For providers, this kind of political volleying translates to anxiety – what sort of environment will we be operating in next year, or three years from now? It’s hard to invest in expanding services or infrastructure when you don’t know if funding might be slashed or if eligibility criteria will shift, potentially reducing your client base.

The implementation of the NDIS Review recommendations is another source of uncertainty. The review called for significant changes: simplifying access, improving planning, and even moving some cohorts (like many people with psychosocial disability or those with lower needs) to other support programs. If, for instance, the NDIS were to refocus on a narrower group of “severely impaired” individuals (a phrase that has been floated in policy discussions​), some providers might lose a chunk of their participants to other systems. Conversely, if the scheme expands certain supports, providers might be expected to scale up on short notice. Providers don’t oppose reform – many of them actively support it, because a more efficient NDIS would ease some of their burdens too. But constant reforms without clarity can feel like trying to hit a moving target.

One concrete example: the government has talked about moving to longer-term participant plans with fewer reviews​. In fact, the 2023 Budget set aside funds to implement exactly that​. For providers, that sounds promising – it means a participant might get a plan for 2 or 3 years instead of annual renewals, reducing the churn and uncertainty of always-near-expiry plans. However, until it actually happens, and the details are worked out, it’s an open question how it will roll out. Will funding amounts in long-term plans be sufficient to account for changing needs? How will adjustments be handled if circumstances change? These details matter for business planning. According to Shepherd (2023), a push for more “evidence-based” supports and cracking down on what the NDIA calls “shoddy therapies”​has providers wondering – will certain services (perhaps newer or alternative therapies) suddenly become un-fundable? Clarity will be needed to avoid unintended gaps where participants lose support, and providers lose income because a particular support was deemed outside the evidence criteria.

Another area of uncertainty is interface with other systems – the NDIS was never meant to do it all, and now there is pressure on state services, healthcare, education, etc., to take on more so that the NDIS is focused on where it’s needed most​ (Shepards, 2023). This macro-policy pivot could mean changes in referral patterns and service demand. For example, if state health systems step up support for people not on NDIS, providers might be dealing more with state-based contracts. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s change that has to be navigated.

What providers are asking for is a seat at the table and clear communication as these reforms unfold. They need to know what’s coming down the pike – not as an afterthought, but early enough to adapt. If pricing is going to be reformed (as the review suggests), involve providers in designing a system that is fair and workable. If certain services will be phased out or new ones introduced, give clear guidelines and timeframes. And importantly, maintain trust by avoiding sudden, drastic moves. The memory of the 2021 attempt to introduce independent assessments (which was later scrapped after backlash) still lingers in the sector as an example of a top-down change that created huge uncertainty and stress for providers and participants alike. The lesson: co-design and gradual implementation beats shock therapy.

_{Finding a Sustainable Path Forward}

It’s often said that the NDIS is a world-leading reform – a bold social contract to ensure people with disability get the support they need to live with choice and dignity. That vision is one that most Australians support wholeheartedly. But an NDIS on paper means little if the on-the-ground capability erodes. We risk a hollowed-out system where participants have funding in their plans, but few providers left to actually deliver services, or where the quality of support diminishes because providers are cutting corners to survive. For the NDIS to fulfill its promise, we must shore up the foundations that providers stand on.

What might a solution framework look like? It would be multi-pronged, addressing each of the challenges in tandem:

• Align funding with actual costs: Implement more responsive pricing that keeps up with inflation and wage growth automatically, and factor in the true cost of quality care. Price caps should be reviewed by an independent body with provider input and adjusted for regionality and complexity where needed (e.g. higher price limits for remote area supports or very high-needs clients). If providers are expected to deliver services that cost $X, the funding must equal $X (with maybe a modest margin), not $X minus 15%. In practical terms, this could mean annual indexation of price caps tied to wage awards and CPI, plus special pricing provisions for certain supports. It may also involve the NDIA using smarter tools than just caps – for instance, preferred provider arrangements for some services, where the agency can negotiate rates that ensure viability while saving in other areas​ (NDIS Review, 2022). The bottom line: funding levels should never incentivise providers to choose between financial ruin and cutting quality.

• Invest in the care workforce: Commit to a pay rise for disability support workers, funded by the government to avoid overburdening providers. Haynes (2025) in an interview with disability work, NDIS CEO and union rep, highlighted that, whether it’s the proposed $5/hour workforce compact​ or another mechanism, it’s an investment in stability. Alongside pay, improve training and career development: subsidise traineeships, create advanced roles (like mentor support workers, or specialists in certain disabilities) to give workers a ladder to climb, and promote disability care as a valued long-term profession. Reducing turnover by even a few percentage points would save providers millions in recruitment and re-training costs, which can be redirected to improving services. A well-supported workforce means happier staff, which translates to better care and consistency for participants. We should also ensure support for the mental health and wellbeing of these workers – burnout is real, and keeping experienced carers in the field may sometimes mean giving them the resources to cope and grow on the job.

• Stabilise cash flow and risk-sharing: The NDIA could establish measures to help providers with the volatility they face. One idea is a contingency fund or insurance pool that providers can draw on if, for example, a large chunk of their client base has plan funding cut unexpectedly (sort of like how banks have deposit insurance – providers could have “NDIS income insurance” for sudden policy shocks). This might sound far-fetched, but even something like a modest line of credit underwritten by the NDIA for accredited providers could help cover short-term shortfalls. More straightforwardly, improve plan management processes: ensure there are no sudden plan cuts without due process and overlap (if a plan is reduced, perhaps give a grace period where the previous funding level continues for a month or two). Also, refine cancellation policies so providers aren’t penalized for client unpredictability – for instance, allow a claim for a portion of the service fee when a participant consistently misses appointments due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control. These steps would cushion providers against shocks and make revenue more predictable month to month.

• Cut the red tape (smartly): Simplify and streamline wherever possible. If a piece of paperwork isn’t clearly contributing to participant outcomes or safeguarding, question if it’s really needed. Consolidate reporting requirements across agencies – a provider should be able to fill out one good quality report and have it satisfy multiple oversight bodies, rather than doing separate ones for each. Embrace technology to reduce manual form-filling. The NDIA can also provide template policies, guidelines, and even free compliance tools for providers, especially the smaller ones, to reduce the overhead of figuring it all out individually. When new regulations are introduced, pair them with training and transition support. Adopting a risk-based approach to compliance is key: focus on providers where there are red flags or high-risk services and give lower-risk providers a lighter touch. The goal should be to maintain quality and safety without strangling providers in bureaucracy. Every hour of admin we can give back to a provider is an hour they can spend on client care or staff training instead.

• Provide clarity and partnership in policy changes: Government and the NDIA should treat providers as true partners in the NDIS, engaging them in co-design of reforms. Set out roadmaps for changes well in advance – for example, if pricing reforms are coming in 2025, start discussions now and give providers at least 6-12 months to adjust once decisions are made. If the scheme is making savings, be transparent about where and how, and reassure the sector that efficiencies will be sought by cutting waste and fraud (which everyone supports rooting out) not by simply squeezing honest providers. Also, commit to no sudden ambushes – for instance, avoid mid-year rule changes that throw business models into chaos. Stability is important: even something as simple as committing to multi-year funding outlooks or contracts for certain critical services could help. Providers often say, “just tell us the rules and keep them consistent for a while.” Consistency allows for planning, investment, and innovation. Frequent upheaval does the opposite.

It’s also worth considering establishing a formal advisory group of providers and participants that regularly meets with the NDIA and Minister – if one doesn’t already exist – to flag emerging issues early and brainstorm solutions. That way, those on the ground can help course-correct policies before they become problems.

_{Why We Must Get This Right}

At its core, this is about safeguarding the relationship between providers and participants – the relationship on which the NDIS’s success truly rests. When that relationship is stable and supported, amazing things happen people with disability secure jobs, build life skills, and pursue their goals; families get respite and peace of mind; workers find meaningful careers. But if providers are chronically under-resourced, everyone suffers. Providers might withdraw services, leaving participants with fewer choices. Staff shortages might mean a person with disability goes without support on a given day or endures a rotating cast of strangers in their home instead of a reliable support worker. High compliance costs might lead some providers to focus only on “easy” cases that are less costly, leaving those with complex needs struggling to find any services at all. These outcomes are unacceptable in a country as wealthy and committed to fairness as Australia. We have invested billions into the NDIS – we must ensure that investment translates into real, sustainable care on the ground.

There is some good news: most of the challenges identified are widely recognised, and many are already being actively discussed in policymaking circles. The recent NDIS Review and government statements indicate that leaders are aware of the pressure on providers and the need to recalibrate settings. What’s needed now is urgent action and a spirit of collaboration. It’s heartening that none of these problems are insurmountable. They are, in a sense, growing pains of a world-leading social program. Other countries are watching how Australia addresses these issues, because there’s no precedent at this scale. We have the opportunity to demonstrate how to course-correct a large-scale social reform humanely and effectively.

As members of the public, we should care about this not only out of compassion but also out of recognition that disability can touch any family at any time. A robust NDIS provider network is part of our national insurance, a safety net that any one of us might need if life takes an unexpected turn. Ensuring its health is a collective responsibility. The next time we hear about NDIS cost blowouts or budget cuts, we must remember the full picture: yes, sustainability matters, but so does investing in the people who make the scheme come alive. The cost of getting this wrong is measured in real human stories – like a man who loses the support that let him live independently, or a woman who has to give up her job to care for her son because his services fell through, or a passionate support worker who leaves the sector because she just can’t afford to stay.

The NDIS was built on the values of choice, control, and inclusion. To uphold those values, we need a thriving ecosystem of service providers – innovative, diverse, and financially secure – partnered with a dedicated workforce. Let’s fix the funding gaps, support our care workers, cut the red tape, and give providers the certainty they need to carry on their vital work. By doing so we’re not just helping “service providers” in the abstract; we’re safeguarding the hopes and lives of hundreds of thousands of Australians with disability. In the end, that’s what the NDIS is all about.

If we get this right, providers will not only stay afloat, but they will also flourish – and so will the people they support. No one should be left without care because the system that promised to support them didn’t support its providers. We can and must ensure that doesn’t happen. The challenges are great, but with practical action and empathy driving policy, the NDIS can remain that beacon of hope it was meant to be – for participants, for providers, and for all of us.

Sources:

• Basta, J. (2024). NDIS providers struggling to remain viable amid funding issues as people with disability lose access to support and employment. ABC News​abc.net.au​abc.net.au.

• Haynes, N. (2025). Fears disability workforce crisis could deepen. ABC PM​abc.net.au​abc.net.au.

• Team DSC (2024). NDIS Mission Critical – August Edition. TeamDSC News & Analysis​teamdsc.com.au​teamdsc.com.au.

• Jervis-Bardy, D. (2025). Coalition hints at aggressive NDIS cuts will ‘send a shiver’ up the spine. The Guardian​theguardian.com​theguardian.com.

• Shepherd, T. (2023). Labor’s $15bn NDIS savings push sparks concerns of service cuts. The Guardian​theguardian.com.

• Karagic, D. & Maloney, R. (2025). First Nations disability workers call for more investment in the Kimberley. ABC News​abc.net.au.

• NDIS Review Panel (2023). NDIS Pricing and Payment Approaches. (Finding on price caps)​ndisreview.gov.au​ndisreview.gov.au.