Ian Milliss:

Ian Milliss emerged in the 1970s as one of Australia’s pioneering conceptual artists, blending political activism with radical artistic experimentation. At a time when many creatives were responding to the counterculture’s call for peace, justice, and structural reform, Milliss appeared to take these ideals seriously—embedding himself in movements that questioned institutional power and elevated working-class narratives.

But somewhere along the road, the direction shifted.

While the spirit of the 1960s was marked by the cautionary lyric from The Beatles—“But if you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao / You ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow”—Milliss seemed not to heed the warning. Instead of reflecting critically on authoritarianism in all forms, he doubled down. Over the years, his public commentary has drifted toward what critics call a form of “fake leftism”—an ideological posture that uses the language of social justice to launder reactionary and conspiratorial ideas.

Milliss has helped amplify voices like Caitlin Johnstone—although he is punching above his weight, as none of these alt-right influencers appear to acknowledge or engage with his minimal audience. In truth, Ian may find more success reaching out to someone like Milo Yiannopoulos, who, much like Milliss, once held attention but now finds himself on the fringes—alienated, discredited, and morally adrift.

His presence on social media is marked by selective argumentation, rhetorical point-scoring, and an often insincere tone that frustrates good-faith discussion. To some, this may look like a rebellious refusal to conform; to others, it looks like ideological rot dressed up in a faded radical costume.

Milliss’ legacy as a conceptual artist may remain intact, but his current trajectory risks overshadowing that contribution—replacing the language of liberation with the echo of reactionary voices, and the ethics of dissent with the aesthetics of provocation.