why is Tourism Australia’s advertising stuck in 1984?

Tourism Australia has just launched its latest global A$130m campaign, “Come and Say G’day”. It’s a sequel to the 2022 ad featuring brand ambassador Ruby the Roo.

The ad is a feast of sweeping drone shots, saturated colours, iconic landmarks and feel-good energy. Friendly animals, iconic landscapes and a familiar message: come and say g’day.

Tourism Australia is rolling out five tailored ads for key markets. Each features celebrity endorsements: Robert Irwin in the United States; Nigella Lawson in the United Kingdom; and with stars from China (Yosh Yu), Japan (Abareru-kun) and India (Sara Tendulkar) fronting the others.

It’s a smart shift that acknowledges what tourism marketers have long known: you can’t please everyone with one ad.

But despite its polish, the campaign recycles old-school imagery – quirky, sunny, laid-back Australia – offering a nostalgic view that feels stuck in 1984, not tuned to 2025.

A long tradition of stereotypes

Australian tourism ads have long leaned on a small set of cultural clichés.

Perhaps the most famous is the one which also created the mould: Paul Hogan’s famous 1984 “shrimp on the barbie” campaign.

It was the first widely-aired campaign to crystallise the now-familiar image of Australia for international audiences: laid-back, larrikin, sun-soaked.

It deliberately played into stereotypes Americans found appealing – friendly locals, casual charm, and a wild but welcoming landscape and wildlife.

Many have said this wasn’t just a tourism ad but a nation-branding exercise that framed Australians as approachable, humorous and uncomplicated.

Subsequent campaigns have continued to echo this formula, sometimes ironically, as in the 2018 Dundee reboot, and sometimes earnestly, like the controversial 2006 line “So where the bloody hell are you?” (which was banned in the UK).

A 2008 Baz Luhrmann-directed campaign brought cinematic flair to the same stereotypes and imagery, tying it to his film Australia. With a $40 million budget and a rollout across 22 countries, it leaned on emotional storytelling and sweeping outback visuals.

Despite its ambition, the campaign drew mixed reviews. Tourism operators said it felt out of touch, more fantasy than invitation, with some questioning whether its landscapes even looked uniquely Australian.

Australia has changed a lot in 40 years, but tourism ads have returned again and again to familiar themes: white sandy beaches, red desert landscapes, barbecues and blokey humour.

These images helped build Australia’s global brand in the late 20th century, especially in English-speaking markets. But times have changed, and tourists are savvier. They want to see the real culture of a place.

And here we are again: outback peril, thieving emus and the shrimp/prawn clash feels like a 1984 throwback.

Who gets left out?

For a country in the 21st century that prides itself on diversity, the 2025 campaign feels strangely one-dimensional.

There are flashes of multiculturalism from the international stars, but the campaign centres on broad white stereotypes of “Aussie-ness”: the blokey pub with the wisecracking bartender, sunburned adventurers speeding on a 4WD in the outback, and laid-back lunches debating the pronunciation of imported dishes.

There’s no meaningful presence of contemporary Indigenous voices or storytelling – just the echo of a didgeridoo, a fleeting image of Uluru as a background slide, and a brief cameo from Kamilaroi actor and playwright Thomas Weatherall.

There’s nothing about Australia’s vibrant multicultural neighbourhoods, food scenes or festivals beyond the usual mainstream. The campaign positions Australia as an adventure playground, but doesn’t say anything about who lives here.

This is particularly disappointing given Tourism Australia’s own research shows travellers are increasingly interested in meaningful, authentic experiences. People want to connect with locals, understand cultural stories and travel more sustainably.

It’s time to reimagine what tourism looks like

National tourism campaigns face enormous scrutiny. This often means bold ideas become watered down. Creativity is sacrificed and so is the chance to tell a richer, more honest story about who we are.

Tourism ads don’t need to lose their charm. Ruby the Roo is endearing and memorable. But the way we tell stories about Australia needs to evolve.

Internationally, there are successful campaigns that move beyond clichés. New Zealand’s long-running 100% Pure New Zealand campaign includes strong environmental messaging and Māori cultural narratives. Canada’s Indigenous Tourism campaign puts First Nations voices front and centre.

Australia could take a leaf out of their books. Celebrity cameos are appealing, but if we want the world to see our real and wonderfully multicultural Australia, we need to let our local guides, community operators and cultural custodians tell their stories.

For 40 years, we’ve rolled out variations of the same campaign, relying on familiar clichés while ignoring repeated calls for deeper, more inclusive storytelling.

Tourism campaigns don’t just sell destinations. They tell stories about national identity. They shape how we see ourselves, and how the world sees us. Right now, we’re telling a story that’s safe, surface-level and stuck in a 1980s time warp.