Background Briefing

It would be a game changer if it happened. But the challenges facing a proposed proton cancer treatment centre in Sydney are stacking up. It begs the question: why are an unpaid volunteer and private developer stepping in to provide a life-saving cancer treatment that Australian families have been demanding for years?

The public plans for a half-a-billion-dollar Sydney development have proton therapy all over them. But they're not the only set. As Australian families continue to fly overseas to get the life-saving treatment their children need, new questions arise about whether it's going to be possible for Sue Bleasel to pull off her plan. And now, they're coming from people inside the bigger project. When an insider speaks out for the first time, it becomes clear Sue isn't being kept in the loop on all the developer's plans.

Sue Bleasel is running out of time. Her life's work has been to bring a life-saving proton therapy machine to Australia. But with construction about to start, big questions remain.

It's a plan so good that everyone wants to believe it. Bring a life-saving cancer machine to Australia so desperate families don't have to travel overseas for treatment. But the plan keeps failing. The latest idea is to build a half-billion-dollar health science precinct in the heart of Sydney to house Australia's first proton therapy machine. It's got some big names backing it, support from a federal politician, and the green light from state government and local council. So why, when reporters Julia Bergin and Loretta Florance take a closer look, is it so hard to get a clear answer about what's going on? Is it happening? And what will it take to bring this machine to Australia? This Bloody Machine is a three-part Background Briefing investigation that follows a trail of money, egos, secret plans and changing stories to find out if the proton therapy dream is too good to be true.

A missing child, the botched police investigation case, and the aunt who never stopped asking why — this is part two of Maddison Connaughton's long read investigation into the disappearance of schoolgirl Eloise Worledge.

Could new leads solve one of Australia’s most haunting cold cases, the disappearance of Eloise Worledge? This is part one of Maddison Connaughton's investigation, a collaboration with ABC Long Read.

You may have heard the strange story about the man who cheated death. Diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and given just months to live, he moved home to die in peace on the idyllic Greek island of Ikaria. But he didn't die. He lived for decades, and his miraculous recovery became one of the most shared stories of the Blue Zones movement, a prime example of the island's rare power to keep death at bay. There's just one problem. How much is actually known about this mysterious death-defying man?

You've heard there are these enchanted places around the world where people often live past 100, thanks to lifestyles the rest of us envy. They're called Blue Zones, and over two decades the idea has grown into a multimillion-dollar industry that sells you their secrets of longevity. But then an Australian scientist started digging into the data behind the legend, and decided something didn't add up.

It’s been billed “the Netflix of AI.” A little-known Australian startup running an online service, boasting more than 20 million users worldwide. It promises to bring your fantasies to life with realistic AI companions you design and control. What reporter Josh Robertson discovered was something more disturbing: characters that appear as young as 14 and 15 years old, presented for adult role-play, and a company unable to stop them appearing.

For a while, Tammy's death looks like a one-off. Then an email lands in Kirstie Wellauer's inbox that changes everything.

Tammy Shipley walked into a police station and asked to be locked up. She just wanted to be safe.

Tammy's under 24-hour surveillance. Her family can't reach her. Then she starts drinking water from a red cup — and nobody understands what they're watching until it's too late.

Tammy Shipley asked to be arrested so she could feel safe. After she was placed under 24-hour surveillance, something terrible took place. A new three-part series by Kirstie Wellauer and Joanna McCarthy investigates how it unfolded. A loving mother of five, Tammy could really make her kids laugh. But she'd started to believe she was in danger — that someone was out to get her. A couple of weeks before Christmas, she walked into a Sydney police station looking for protection. She asked to be arrested and just wanted to feel safe. She was put under 24-hour surveillance. Then, over the course of several hours, something terrible took place. Something no one noticed. Tammy's Story is a three-part investigation into how this could have happened.

Jean Paul Mangin is a nom de plume, an alias, a fake name. But no one seems to know that. So why would a commercial gallery – a family-run business – go to such extreme lengths to protect the identity of its artist?

The only clue to Jean Paul Mangin's true identity is hiding in his art. Unlike everything else about the elusive French sculptor, the material he works with is right there for anyone to see — giant, flat sheets of plastic, in vivid colours and glossy finishes. Perhaps if reporter Julia Bergin can find out where they're coming from, she can find him too. And it’s that trail that leads her to a noisy factory floor, where another artist has been making strikingly similar work for years.

The sales pitch goes that Jean Paul Mangin is a reclusive Parisian sculptor whose works are internationally acclaimed. His pieces sell quickly through one particular Australian gallery, sought after by trendy interior designers. But gallery staff are starting to ask questions. Why is Jean Paul Mangin uncontactable? Why can’t they find any evidence of his international credentials? And why do his works show up - sometimes in a single layer of bubble-wrap - within days of being commissioned?

For years, art buyers have been told that this man is an internationally acclaimed, intensely private Parisian sculptor. His bold, brightly coloured plastic works are available through one Melbourne gallery, and they're selling fast. But there's a problem. The artist, Jean Paul Mangin, has no website, no social media, and no discernible presence in France. His sculptures arrive in Melbourne wrapped in a single layer of bubble wrap, just days after being commissioned. When gallery staff start asking questions, they're told he's not to be contacted directly. That's when reporter Julia Bergin steps in — following a trail of clues from the bourgeois backstreets off the Champs-Elysées to an empty graveyard in country Victoria.

How did a wounded Bondi survivor become the face of a global deepfake conspiracy in less than 24 hours? Arsen Ostrovsky was celebrating Chanukah at Bondi Beach when the first shots rang out. A bullet grazed his head, and as he lay bleeding on the ground, his first thought was his wife and children. Not knowing whether the danger had passed, he took selfies to show them he was alive. Within hours, one of the images was circulating across social media. Arsen was then swept up in a wave of disinformation that recast him not as a victim, but as a performer: a “crisis actor” faking his wounds to manufacture sympathy for Israel. The deepfake conspiracy spread with startling speed. In less than 24 hours, Arsen had gone from shooting survivor to accused hoaxer. In this episode, reporter Josh Robertson trace how that happened. They follow the lie from its point of origin through the networks that amplified it: far-right Telegram channels, fringe conspiracy theorists on Reddit and Instagram, Russian propaganda outlets, and beyond. It is a story about surviving something catastrophic, then being told by strangers that it never happened.

This man fled Iran after being imprisoned and tortured for protesting the regime. Known only as AB, he came to Australia hoping to start again — and, in many ways, he did. He found love and started a family. But he also made poor choices, fell into drugs and became violent towards his partner. Now his future in Australia is in jeopardy. He was living with those consequences when the Bondi terror attack unfolded around him. He ran towards the gunfire, and risked his life to help others. Now the country that once gave him refuge wants to deport him.

You think you know the story. You know how it ended. But you don’t know how it began. In the first episode of The Road to Bondi, reporter Josh Robertson traces the decades-long path that led a father and son to carry out their plan. He takes us from the narrow streets of old Hyderabad in India, where a young man grew up in a respectable family, to the western Sydney suburbs, where he begins to unravel.