Devastating New Evidence Sparks Fresh Demands for Justice in Australia’s Contaminated Blood Scandal

In 1990, Tristan Stanley's parents received a chilling phone call. Their 10-year-old son, they were told, had tested positive for hepatitis C.

"My parents were in shock. They didn't know a lot about hepatitis C. They weren't even aware we'd been tested for it," Tristan says as he looks over his medical records. He was infected with hepatitis C when he was about six years old. Following hospital advice, his family packed up their lives in the small town of Whyalla and moved to Adelaide so Tristan could be monitored regularly.

Having been born with haemophilia, a genetic disorder where a person's blood does not clot properly, Tristan was no stranger to hospital visits. But now, things were different. There was anger mixed with fear, as the blood product he had been given to save his life might now potentially end it.

Decades on, Tristan is determined to piece together what happened. He is one of thousands of Australians who were transfused with contaminated blood in the 1980s.

"We were told we had one of the safest blood supplies in the world. But if that's the case, how did so many get infected?" Tristan asks.

Like many who have trodden this path before him, he has received expressions of empathy from the institutions involved, but no action. He hopes newly uncovered cabinet minutes, which raise troubling questions about decisions made at the peak of the crisis, will finally get their attention.

A Global Infected Blood Scandal

Up to 20,000 Australians were infected with hepatitis C or HIV during the 1970s to 1990s from contaminated plasma products and routine blood transfusions. Hundreds died, while others have lived for decades with serious medical consequences.

Infected blood was a global scandal. While countries like Canada, Ireland, and the United Kingdom have had independent inquiries and established wide-ranging compensation schemes, survivors here argue Australia is yet to fully reckon with this dark chapter.

A 2004 Senate inquiry into hepatitis C went for four days and found financial compensation was "not in the best interests" of those infected, and that best practice was followed at the time. The findings were distressing for those who had been infected with hepatitis C from contaminated blood. Equally galling was the government's failure to follow through on a recommended national apology.

The Department of Health, Disability and Ageing stated that it recognised the profound and lasting impact "historical contaminated blood products have had on affected Australians", and that support initiatives were implemented following the 2004 Senate inquiry.

Miracle Treatment Turns to Poison

Prior to the 1970s, life for someone with haemophilia was fairly grim. A bump or fall usually meant a lengthy stay in hospital to administer treatment. Bleeds were excruciatingly painful and sometimes fatal. Then along came Factor VIII, a blood-clotting product that could be injected intravenously at home.

"It was a game changer for haemophiliacs … you could live an almost normal life," Tristan says. "But for thousands of us, this product turned out to be poison."

Unlike the previous treatment, which was made from a single blood donation, Factor VIII (used by people with Haemophilia A) was made by pooling thousands of donations. So too was Factor IX, used by people with Haemophilia B. It only took one infected donor to contaminate the whole batch.

Having hepatitis C meant Tristan was constantly tired and lacked energy. Then there was the mental torment, the rumours that went around school, and the questions from concerned parents.

"It took me decades to clear the virus. I went through multiple treatment options … some of them had horrible side effects."

Despite all of this, he considers himself lucky compared to his friends Tony David and Niel Lake. Like Tristan, Tony's blood-clotting product was infected with hepatitis C.

In 2002, a 35-year-old Tony was riding high after becoming the first Australian to win the World Darts Championship. But then his liver began to fail. Within a few years, he was on the operating table undergoing his first liver transplant.

"I was absolutely shocked. I was terrified I was going to die," he says.

After a few months, the virus began to attack his new liver. He ended up back on the operating table a decade later, undergoing a second transplant. However, within weeks, the second liver began to fail. As his health rapidly deteriorated, an emaciated Tony was told he was once again dying. He underwent a third and final transplant in 2020.

"This is my last shot. If this one fails … there's not enough connective tissue to attach another liver."

Alienated from Colleagues and Friends

But it wasn't just people with haemophilia who were affected. Niel Lake's health and career were ruined by hepatitis C, contracted from a post-operative blood transfusion.

"I was constantly feeling sick. I'd be sitting in my office and vomit in a plastic bag. I'd tie it up and try and get rid of it," Niel recalls.

A rising star in the Australian Federal Police, Niel was forced to take early retirement in his 30s. There was also a lot of stigma that came with hepatitis C, a virus traditionally associated with people who inject drugs and who share needles.

"It certainly alienated me from a lot of my colleagues and friends," he says.

It also strained his personal relationships. After undergoing two rounds of treatment to clear the virus, which was as debilitating as the virus itself, Niel no longer has hepatitis C, but the damage to his liver had been done.

Hepatitis C treatments today are far more effective, and side effects, if any, are considerably milder. But for many people, irrespective of treatments now available, the disease itself has caused ongoing health problems.

"We're often told this is an historical issue, but what [the government] fail to realise is that people are still suffering, people are still dying," Tristan says.

Heartbreak in the Courts

Like Tristan and Tony, Lyn Hatch's son Martin, born with mild haemophilia, was infected with hepatitis C. But his blood products were also carrying a more immediately deadly virus.

"To tell a 14-year-old that he's got AIDS … it was just horrendous," Lyn recalls. "But he was a brave boy until the end."

Martin Hatch died from AIDS-related illnesses in December 1989, aged 16. Martin's legal case was the first to run in Australia. Lyn would go to the courts in the morning, before heading to the hospital.

"They had a cast of thousands," Lyn says of the defendants. "Our barristers … acted pro bono."

The findings were brought down on the day of Martin's funeral. The hospital, the Red Cross, and Commonwealth Serum Laboratories were all cleared of negligence. Apart from the emotional devastation, the family also faced financial ruin. Upon learning of Martin's HIV status, their business partner left, causing them to lose their business and have their house tied up with it.