Today was a big day.
One of those days that quietly shifts things, even if not everyone immediately realises it.
The announcement of LTGEN Susan Coyle as Chief of Army is, of course, significant for the
Australian Army and for the nation. It is a leadership decision that will shape capability,
culture and the future of the ADF.
But it is also something more.
It is a moment that will land differently for a lot of people. For every woman who has ever
worn the uniform, is wearing it now, or is still standing on the outside wondering if there is a
place for her in it, today matters. Not in a symbolic, tick-box way. In a real, tangible “You
can see it now” kind of way.
Because while this appointment is grounded in capability, experience and decades of service,
it also represents how far the Army has come. From the early days of women serving in
limited roles, often on the periphery of decision making, to now leading the entire institution.
That is not a small shift. That is generational change. And it is worth pausing on that.
Not because she is a woman in the way some will reduce it to, but because she is an
exceptionally capable leader who has progressed through one of the most rigorous and
scrutinised promotion systems in the country. A system that does not hand out senior
appointments lightly.
Her career reflects years of service, command, operational experience and sustained
performance. The kind that is assessed, reviewed and tested at every stage. The kind that
earns trust, not headlines.
So yes, this is a significant day for the Army.
It is also a significant day for every young girl who has ever thought about what leadership might look like for her. For every female soldier, officer and veteran who has quietly pushed through barriers that once felt immovable.
It is a reminder that those barriers are not what they once were. And that, more than anything, is worth acknowledging.
Yet, almost as quickly as the announcement was made, the noise followed.
Because while this should have been a moment to recognise an extraordinary career and what
it represents, the comment sections on social media did what they often do. They shifted the
focus away from decades of service and onto distraction. Onto doubt. Onto the same tired
narratives that say more about the people writing them than the person they are directed at.
It did not take long. It never does. Give it five minutes and someone who has never worn the
uniform is suddenly an expert in how to lead it. The confidence is impressive, if nothing else.
Unburdened by experience, but not by opinion.
There is something almost predictable about it now. A senior appointment or good news story
involving a female veteran is announced and, like clockwork, the comment section rolls in
with the same recycled takes. Different profile pictures, same script. It is less a debate and
more a copy-paste exercise.
And while it would be easy to dismiss it as background noise, it does highlight something
worth acknowledging. That even in moments of clear progress, there are still those
determined to drag the conversation backwards. Usually from the comfort of a couch, with no
skin in the game and very strong wi-fi.
It is a strange contradiction. A milestone moment that reflects progress, met with
commentary that still feels stuck somewhere in the past.
And it is precisely that tension, between how far we have come and how loudly some still
resist it, that makes this moment worth talking about.
So before getting into some of the more creative, and at times wildly unqualified,
commentary that was featured on social media today, it is worth taking a moment to actually
look at the career behind this amazing appointment.
A brief herstory on LTGEN Coyle, AM, CSC, DSM
LTGEN Coyle joined the Army Reserve in 1987, graduated as an officer from ADFA in
1992, and then spent the next three decades doing the sort of things people online like to
pretend women never do. She has commanded troops on deployment in Timor‑Leste, the
Solomon Islands and Afghanistan. Nothing says “unsuited to military leadership” quite like
being repeatedly trusted over two decades and three different area of operations with soldiers’
lives in actual conflict zones hey.
She has led Task Group Afghanistan, commanded Joint Task Force 633 in the Middle East,
and served as Head of Information Warfare (meaning she’s been responsible for managing
modern battlefields while some of her critics struggle to manage a comment section and basic
grammar). Most recently, LTGEN Coyle was appointed Chief of Joint Capabilities in July
2024, overseeing cyber, space and information warfare for the entire ADF. That’s right: the
future of warfare. Not Call of Duty or whatever the boomers are playing these days.
She is a distinguished graduate of the US Army War College, holds postgraduate master’s
degrees, is the mother of three and is married to a serving military member.
Apparently, balance, endurance and commitment are only impressive until a woman
demonstrates them at scale.
And it is at this point, having briefly glanced at a career that has been tested, assessed and
proven over decades, that we arrive at the part where the comment section confidently steps
in to challenge it.
Because naturally, after all of that, the next logical step is to hand the microphone to people
whose greatest exposure to Defence is a comment thread and a profile picture from 2012.
So, let’s look at some of the commentary that dares to critique a career like this.
“This is deliberate downgrading of our ability to defend ourselves – the enemy is laughing at us”
Yes. Because nothing screams national security failure like appointing someone who has
survived, thrived and advanced through one of the most conservative promotion systems in
the country. A system that is many things, but has never once been accused of handing out
stars for participation.
It has tested her across command, staff, joint environments and senior leadership
appointments. It has trusted her with soldiers, capability and decisions that carry real
consequence. You do not reach that level by accident. You reach it by being repeatedly
assessed, compared and selected as the best person in the room – over and over again.
“Someone has to make the sandwiches.”
There it is. Not even subtle. Straight back to 1952. Blink too hard and suddenly we are re
writing policy on skirt lengths and debating whether women should be allowed to speak in
briefings.
For a group so committed to standards, the lack of originality is almost impressive. The same
tired line dragged out like it is cutting edge commentary instead of something your uncle said
in 1987. It is not even offensive anymore, it is just boring.
It also raises the question of where it comes from, because it certainly does not come from
lived military experience. It comes from people who have never set foot in the environments
they are so confident analysing.
If your best contribution to a national security discussion is a sandwich joke, it might be time
to sit that one out. It is a bold strategy, reducing the discussion of this historical decision to
lunch prep. Not a recognised warfighting function, but confidence is high. Somewhere out
there is a man who thinks this is peak humour, and that might be the most concerning
capability gap of all.
Advanced tactics in talking absolute rubbish
What fascinates me is not just the misogyny, it is the confidence. The absolute certainty from
people whose closest operational experience is arguing with strangers on the internet. People
who have never commanded a platoon, a battalion, or anything larger than their own opinion,
yet feel entirely qualified to declare who should run the Army. It is not quite mansplaining
anymore (because that would imply there is actual knowledge being shared). At this point, it
is more like a public masterclass in saying very little with absolute confidence.
Here is the uncomfortable truth. If you did not have the courage to serve, you do not get to
lecture those who did about how the job should be done. Walk a day in LTGEN Coyle’s
shoes, heels or boots, it does not matter. Carry the responsibility, make the decisions, wear
the consequences and then come back and tell us whether any “woke person” could do her
job.
The part these brave keyboard warriors never quite grapple with is how the system actually
works. The ADF does not promote people based on vibes or the good bloke factor. It does not
promote people because of gender. It does not promote people because someone in Career
Management felt progressive that morning. It promotes people because they have
demonstrated, over decades that they can lead under pressure, make decisions with
incomplete information, manage risk, handle failure and carry responsibility when things go
wrong. And (this is the important part) consistently be the same good human throughout it
all.
Herstory is now our story
Research across allied militaries shows a consistent pattern. Women who reach senior
leadership are not just equally qualified, they are sometimes required to be more qualified.
The margin for error has never been the same. Women feel they are assessed harder, earlier
and more often. Where men are labelled promising, women are told to prove it again, and
again, and again. Whilst also expecting they will then get told they are being “Too much”.
It is almost as if competence has been quietly mistaken for a diversity initiative. The pipeline
is not softer: it is narrower, steeper and lined with people waiting by their keyboards for them
to fail.
By the time a woman reaches the top, she has not just met the standard. She has exceeded it
repeatedly, under scrutiny most of her critics would not last a week under. But
acknowledging that would require letting go of something far more fragile than logic…..ego.
It is easier for these online bandits to believe the system is broken than to accept that the
system simply picked a female who performed better than a male.
So instead, we get the jokes. Tampons. Sandwiches. “The Army is finished”. “Our enemy is
quaking in it’s boots”. The same tired lines women in uniform have heard for decades. The
same ones delivered while they were commanding troops, deploying on operations and doing
the work that apparently counts for nothing the moment Facebook opens. Funny how quickly
“Standards matter” turns into “Standards feel unfair” the moment they are applied equally.
It is a strange kind of fragility, loud, certain and completely disconnected from reality.
The real consequences of cheap commentary
This is where it actually matters. This is not just about LTGEN Coyle. It is about what we signal to every woman currently serving, every young girl considering service and every female veteran who has already carried the load.
We tell them they can serve and they can sacrifice, but if they reach the top, members of our nation,
the same civilians that we are putting first before self, will still question whether they deserve to be there.
That damage is not theoretical. It is measurable. It affects retention, morale and whether
talented people decide the cost of leadership is worth paying.
Then comes the fall back argument. “It’s a quota.”. This one always arrives with absolute
certainty and absolutely no understanding of how senior military appointments work.
There is no extra weighting or bonus points for those who identify as female. No diversity
fast track to Chief of Army. No quiet moment where Defence shrugs and says just pick a
woman.
If anything, the opposite is true. You do not stumble into that role. You survive it, repeatedly,
across years of command, joint postings, external scrutiny and performance reporting written
by people whose job it is to find your weaknesses.
If this were a quota, it would be the least efficient one ever designed, although apparently still
more efficient than some people’s understanding of how the Army works.
“Classic…..another woman taking a man’s job. May as well quit now boys!”.
Then there is the claim that LTGEN Coyle has taken a man’s job. That assumes the job
belonged to a man by default and that masculinity itself is a qualification. Chief of Army is
not gendered. It is not inherited. It is not passed down via chromosome. It is a role defined by
leadership, responsibility, and the ability to make decisions that affect tens of thousands of
people.
No man has ever been asked which woman he took the job from.
Funny how that works.
What this comment really protects is not standards. It protects nostalgia. A version of the
Army that looked a certain way, sounded a certain way and made certain people feel
comfortable about who belonged at the top.
That Army does not exist anymore. The organisation moved on. Some people just did not.
The difference between wearing and commenting
And finally, I come back to the medals.
Medals are not accessories. They are not decorative flair. They are not something you pick up
because it looks good on parade. They are earned through documented service, operational
deployments, leadership and formal processes that are recorded, scrutinised and signed off
well above the individual.
Those of us who have worn the uniform know this. We are buried in them. They sit heavy not
because of the metal, but because of what they represent. Time away, risk, responsibility and
sometimes things people carry long after the uniform comes off.
Which makes it all the more remarkable that the loudest commentary comes from people who
have never had the courage to commit their lives to something bigger than themselves, yet
somehow feel entitled to mansplain a job they will never do, in an organisation they were
never willing to serve whilst wearing a shirt free from medals. The irony is simple. The
people shouting the loudest about standards are almost never the ones who have met them.
It truly takes a special kind of confidence to critique a job you were never willing to try.
The Army does not collapse when a woman leads it. It collapses when people confuse nostalgia with competence and opinion with experience. And the Army, inconveniently for the comment section, knows the difference.
Anonymous opinions vs. earned respect
And here is the part the comment section cannot compete with. For every nameless,
spineless, non-serving comment thrown into the void, there are multiple voices of positive
and supportive comments from those who have actually either served with, alongside, or
under the command of LTGEN Coyle. People who have seen her lead, make decisions, carry
responsibility and deliver outcomes when it matters. Real assessments, from real
environments, by people who understand exactly what the job demands.
That is the difference. Anonymous opinion versus earned professional respect.
Which is why the commentary feels so jarring on what is a good news day. Because while the
organisation has moved forward, parts of the conversation have not. They are still anchored
in a version of the Army that no longer exists, arguing against a reality that has already
overtaken them. And that is the real contrast. Not between men and women, but between
progress and those still trying to drag it backwards.
The Australian Army values courage, initiative, teamwork, respect, integrity and selfless
service. Not comfort. Not masculinity. Not anonymity behind a keyboard.
So here is the simplest test for those who are reading this, eager to make comment on my
wokeness for writing this article (I’ll anticipate angry woman too). Show me where LTGEN
Coyle fails those values. Show me where decades of service, leadership under pressure and
earned trust fall short. Then show me where the loudest critics meet them. Not in
hypotheticals. Not in comment sections. In action.
Because the Army’s values was never meant to be a vibe check. It is meant to describe
conduct.
And by that measure, this appointment does not weaken the Army. It exposes those who
never understood it.
The long road to the top
What makes this moment even more significant, and what the comment section completely
misses, is just how far this has come. My own research into the history of women in the
Australian Defence Force traces a trajectory that is not ancient history. Women were once
restricted in rank, in role and in opportunity. Barred from combat, limited in progression and
often treated as temporary attachments rather than integral members of the force.
Capability was never the issue. Access was.
For decades, women served in spite of the system, not because of it. They proved themselves
repeatedly, often without recognition, often without the same opportunities afforded to their
male counterparts. And yet they stayed. They led. They deployed. They carried the same risks
and responsibilities while being told, explicitly and implicitly, that they did not quite belong.
So when someone like LTGEN Coyle reaches the highest level of the Army, it is not a token moment.
It is the result of generations of women pushing against a system that was never designed with them in mind.
It represents institutional change, cultural progress, and the slow, hard earned recognition that capability has never been gendered.
For those women reading this – thank you for your service.
This actually was never controversial
By now, the comments have exhausted itself. Not because it landed a compelling argument,
but because it revealed exactly what it had to offer: volume without insight, certainty without
experience and outrage untethered from reality. For those who enjoyed the brief dopamine hit
of typing something confidently incorrect, I hope it was satisfying. Because while the noise
echoed online, the ADF quietly did what it always does and carried on. It has selected its
leader based on decades of performance, not noise. This moment is not controversial inside
the profession, only outside of it. And while some are still arguing about whether a woman
belongs at the top, the organisation itself has already answered that question.
Decisively.
The Army knows the difference between opinion and competence. It has always had to. This
appointment is not a risk to the institution. It is a reflection of it. The only thing at risk right
now is the credibility of those who cannot tell the difference.
Bio
Dr Liz Daly is a current serving officer with over 15 years of experience, including operational deployments and leadership of multinational teams.
Her PhD research focuses on tailored mental healthcare models for female veterans with PTSD across Five Eyes nations.
She writes and speaks on leadership, military culture and gender, is occasionally accused of
“Liz-splaining,” but more often just enjoys pointing out what the data, and the profession,
already make clear. She is still continuing to proudly fight like a girl.