Imagine risking your life to save others, only to be left unsupported when the trauma catches up with you. This is the harsh reality for many volunteer firefighters and emergency responders in New Zealand, who are denied mental health coverage under the ACC scheme. But here's where it gets controversial: while a paid employee can crash their car after a night of drinking and receive ACC support, a volunteer who develops PTSD from witnessing unimaginable horrors is left to fend for themselves. This glaring double standard has sparked outrage among those who selflessly serve their communities.
Take Peter Ottley, a volunteer firefighter whose world came crashing down after responding to a fatal bus accident. Two weeks later, he found himself spiraling into PTSD, a condition that has left him unable to work. His wife now juggles two jobs to keep their family afloat, all because the system failed to recognize the mental toll of his service. Ottley’s frustration is palpable: 'We’ll do our best,' they say, 'but there is no best, because money is more important than life.'
This isn’t an isolated case. Jarrad Scott, a 20-year veteran of Land Search and Rescue (LandSAR), faced a similar battle. After assisting in the recovery of a missing person he knew personally, Scott’s mental health deteriorated rapidly. Despite LandSAR’s efforts to provide counseling and support, his ACC claim was denied because of his volunteer status. 'The constant flashbacks and daymares, I call them, it’s like a nightmare, but during the day, it’s just... insane,' Scott shared. And this is the part most people miss: the paid responder standing right beside him at the same scene was fully covered.
The cumulative trauma these volunteers endure is staggering. Whether it’s the relentless exposure to tragedy or a single, life-altering event like the Mt Maunganui landslide, the mental toll is undeniable. Yet, under current legislation, volunteers are only eligible for ACC coverage if they suffer a physical injury—and even then, only if that injury leads to a mental health issue. In other words, unless you’ve broken a leg or are on the payroll, you’re on your own.
Here’s the kicker: Parliament has acknowledged the vital role volunteers play—they make up 86% of Fire and Emergency’s front-line workforce—but has refused to amend the legislation, citing concerns about setting a precedent. The estimated cost? A mere $244,533 per year, or $20 per volunteer firefighter. Meanwhile, volunteers like Ottley and Scott are left to wonder why their mental well-being is deemed less valuable than a broken bone.
Labour’s ACC spokesperson, Camilla Belich, has taken a stand, proposing a Members Bill to extend coverage to volunteer firefighters. But the question remains: Why stop there? If 95% of search and rescue workers are volunteers, shouldn’t they all be protected? Is it fair to prioritize financial sustainability over the mental health of those who risk everything for us?
As Ottley puts it, emergency volunteers are a 'ticking time bomb,' witnessing trauma after trauma with no long-term safety net. How many more stories like his will it take before the system changes? And what does it say about our society when we value monetary savings over the lives of those who serve us?
What do you think? Should volunteers receive the same mental health coverage as paid employees? Or is the current system justified? Let’s start a conversation—because this isn’t just about policy; it’s about humanity.
