Uploaded May 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
The Stella Prize is an annual Australian literary award first awarded in 2013. Created specifically to recognise outstanding writing by Australian women, it comes with a hefty $60,000 purse. But as with everything these days, it has turned incredibly woke.
For example, when you search for the prize on Google, do they first mention great literature, storytelling, or female authors? No, don’t be stupid. Instead, they proudly proclaim: “Stella acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the land…”
Of course they do. What exactly that has to do with writing is entirely beyond me.
On their website on their Past Prize Winners page, they make their mission very clear: “The Stella Prize is a major literary award celebrating Australian women’s writing.” And looking at their historical winners, they are indeed all women—exactly as you’d expect.
Sure, they occasionally obsess over ethnic and racial identity. Take their biography of Evelyn Araluen, who they note was “born and raised on Dharug country, she is a descendant of the Bundjalung Nation.” Or two-time winner Alexis Wright, who they note is “a member of the Waanyi nation of the southern highlands of the Gulf of Carpentaria.”
Right. So the nation of Australia is actually made up of dozens of other nations—provided, of course, that you aren’t Caucasian.
But as you’d expect, the standard boilerplate didn’t last long. Like so many other Australian organisations, the Stella Prize has succumbed to total cultural capture. On their About page, they note:
“Stella is the major voice for gender equity and cultural change in Australian literature. Founded in 2012, the organisation’s flagship program is the annual Stella Prize – a major literary award celebrating Australian women and non-binary writing.”
Further down, although they still have the heading “Supporting women writers”, their Purpose has received a shiny new upgrade:
“Our purpose is to promote books by Australian women and non-binary writers…”
According to their Wikipedia page, they quietly slid “non-binary” into the rules back in 2021. Because nothing says “championing women’s achievements” quite like erasing the requirement that you actually have to be a woman to win.
Now, if you think this is all just performative posturing and that an actual non-binary writer would never sweep in and take the prize over a woman—well, you’d be wrong.
And a quick thank you to the sharp-eyed viewers who emailed this next part in. Say hello to Australian cartoonist Lee Lai, who currently lives in Canada, and happens to be the winner of this year’s sixty-thousand-dollar Stella Prize.
As we all know, the mainstream media absolutely live for identity-firsts. The Guardian practically tripped over itself to proclaim:
“Stella prize 2026: Lee Lai becomes first non-binary person and first graphic novelist to win with Cannon.”
Now, putting aside the fascinating debate over whether a three-hundred-page, glorified comic book actually counts as high literature, it is completely obvious that the author’s identity has taken centre stage here.
Because really, nothing celebrates the unique triumphs of women’s literature quite like awarding a sixty-thousand-dollar women’s prize to a comic book drawn by someone who explicitly identifies as not a woman.
According to Lai’s Wikipedia page: “Lai is transgender, non-binary, and gay.”
Now, I’m not entirely sure which of those terms takes administrative precedence at the Stella Prize headquarters, but it’s safe to say plenty of intersectional identity boxes have been ticked here. Which, as we all know, makes the work automatically worthy of the award.
However, in the topsy-turvy world where intersectional identity meets gender theory, it turns out Lai actually uses she/her pronouns.
Naturally, our taxpayer-funded broadcaster was quick to cover this historic milestone as if it were a matter of national importance. The ABC article notes:
“When Lee Lai published her graphic novel Cannon, she had no idea how it would land with readers.”
Call me old-fashioned, but if you’re going to insist on using female pronouns to secure a sixty-thousand-dollar women’s literary prize… shouldn’t you at least shave off the beard? Or is that just me?
What would be truly hilarious at this point is if a completely ordinary bloke decides to enter the Stella Prize next year. All he has to do is tick that non-binary box on the entry form. He sweeps the award, walks up to the podium to collect his sixty-thousand dollars, pulls off his wig, and tells the crowd:
“Thank you so much for the prize money. But honestly, I’m just a guy, I’m not non-binary, and the fact that I’m standing here right now just proves how completely meaningless and stupid your award has become.”
MUSIC
Allégro by Emmit Fenn
The Stella Prize is an annual Australian literary award first awarded in 2013. Created specifically to recognise outstanding writing by Australian women, it comes with a hefty $60,000 purse. But as with everything these days, it has turned incredibly woke.
For example, when you search for the prize on Google, do they first mention great literature, storytelling, or female authors? No, don’t be stupid. Instead, they proudly proclaim: “Stella acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the land…”
Of course they do. What exactly that has to do with writing is entirely beyond me.
On their website on their Past Prize Winners page, they make their mission very clear: “The Stella Prize is a major literary award celebrating Australian women’s writing.” And looking at their historical winners, they are indeed all women—exactly as you’d expect.
Sure, they occasionally obsess over ethnic and racial identity. Take their biography of Evelyn Araluen, who they note was “born and raised on Dharug country, she is a descendant of the Bundjalung Nation.” Or two-time winner Alexis Wright, who they note is “a member of the Waanyi nation of the southern highlands of the Gulf of Carpentaria.”
Right. So the nation of Australia is actually made up of dozens of other nations—provided, of course, that you aren’t Caucasian.
But as you’d expect, the standard boilerplate didn’t last long. Like so many other Australian organisations, the Stella Prize has succumbed to total cultural capture. On their About page, they note:
“Stella is the major voice for gender equity and cultural change in Australian literature. Founded in 2012, the organisation’s flagship program is the annual Stella Prize – a major literary award celebrating Australian women and non-binary writing.”
Further down, although they still have the heading “Supporting women writers”, their Purpose has received a shiny new upgrade:
“Our purpose is to promote books by Australian women and non-binary writers…”
According to their Wikipedia page, they quietly slid “non-binary” into the rules back in 2021. Because nothing says “championing women’s achievements” quite like erasing the requirement that you actually have to be a woman to win.
Now, if you think this is all just performative posturing and that an actual non-binary writer would never sweep in and take the prize over a woman—well, you’d be wrong.
And a quick thank you to the sharp-eyed viewers who emailed this next part in. Say hello to Australian cartoonist Lee Lai, who currently lives in Canada, and happens to be the winner of this year’s sixty-thousand-dollar Stella Prize.
As we all know, the mainstream media absolutely live for identity-firsts. The Guardian practically tripped over itself to proclaim:
“Stella prize 2026: Lee Lai becomes first non-binary person and first graphic novelist to win with Cannon.”
Now, putting aside the fascinating debate over whether a three-hundred-page, glorified comic book actually counts as high literature, it is completely obvious that the author’s identity has taken centre stage here.
Because really, nothing celebrates the unique triumphs of women’s literature quite like awarding a sixty-thousand-dollar women’s prize to a comic book drawn by someone who explicitly identifies as not a woman.
According to Lai’s Wikipedia page: “Lai is transgender, non-binary, and gay.”
Now, I’m not entirely sure which of those terms takes administrative precedence at the Stella Prize headquarters, but it’s safe to say plenty of intersectional identity boxes have been ticked here. Which, as we all know, makes the work automatically worthy of the award.
However, in the topsy-turvy world where intersectional identity meets gender theory, it turns out Lai actually uses she/her pronouns.
Naturally, our taxpayer-funded broadcaster was quick to cover this historic milestone as if it were a matter of national importance. The ABC article notes:
“When Lee Lai published her graphic novel Cannon, she had no idea how it would land with readers.”
Call me old-fashioned, but if you’re going to insist on using female pronouns to secure a sixty-thousand-dollar women’s literary prize… shouldn’t you at least shave off the beard? Or is that just me?
What would be truly hilarious at this point is if a completely ordinary bloke decides to enter the Stella Prize next year. All he has to do is tick that non-binary box on the entry form. He sweeps the award, walks up to the podium to collect his sixty-thousand dollars, pulls off his wig, and tells the crowd:
“Thank you so much for the prize money. But honestly, I’m just a guy, I’m not non-binary, and the fact that I’m standing here right now just proves how completely meaningless and stupid your award has become.”
MUSIC
Allégro by Emmit Fenn
