This August, Australia’s Census asked about sexual orientation for the first time. For LGBTQIA+ humanists, the result will depend on more than one question.

In June we urged readers to mark “No Religion” on the 2026 Census if it reflected their lives. The Census was held on 11 August, so what did it change?
It nearly didn’t happen
For the first time, Australia’s national count asked people about their sexual orientation, and it very nearly didn’t. On 25 August 2024 the federal government cancelled the ABS plans to trial new questions that would identify sexually diverse, transgender and intersex Australians, with the Prime Minister reportedly wanting to avoid a culture war. LGBTQIA+ advocates were dismayed, and six Labor MPs, including assistant minister Ged Kearney, publicly called for a reversal. Within a week the Prime Minister reversed course on a sexual orientation question, and a little over a week after that the Treasurer announced that sexual orientation and gender would both be included, as optional questions for people aged 16 and over. A separate topic on variations of sex characteristics was not added, because the ABS had not recommended it.
The question put to respondents offered straight, gay or lesbian, bisexual, another term, don’t know, or prefer not to answer. It is modest, but governments fund what they can measure, and until now our communities have been counted only by proxy.
The proxy we’ve been relying on
Until this year, the closest thing to a count was same-sex couples living together, and those figures already told a clear story. As we showed in A Case for Rainbow Atheism, the ABS found in 2011 that 48% of people in same-sex couples reported no religion, against 21% of people in opposite-sex couples. By 2016 the figure was 57%. In 2021, 63.9% of people in same-sex couples reported no religion, compared with 37.6% of people in all couple relationships. Among those aged 15 to 24, the figure was 75.9%.
Over the same decade, the proportion of all Australians reporting no religion rose from 22.3% to 38.9%. LGBTQIA+ Australians have been moving away from organised religion faster than the population as a whole. That shouldn’t surprise anyone, given how many faith institutions have treated us.
A caution: the ABS itself notes that, because the 2021 Census had no sexual orientation question, couples data cannot be used as a count of diverse sexualities or treated as representative of all lesbian, gay and bisexual people. That is exactly why the new question matters.
Two optional questions
Almost everything on the Census is compulsory. The exceptions are two optional questions: religion and sexual orientation. Anyone who wasn’t safe or ready to be open about themselves might well have skipped them. Others may have ticked a religion out of family habit, because the ABS decided to keep the 2021 wording of the religion question rather than adopt its proposed redesign, and critics argue that wording inflates the religious count.
What to watch for
When the results are released (the ABS plans to publish them in three phases starting in June 2027), we’ll be looking at:
- How many people chose “prefer not to answer” or “don’t know” on sexual orientation, bearing in mind that “don’t know” also covers people answering for someone else, and what the pattern says about trust and safety.
- How the religion results compare for people who identified as LGBTQIA+ and the population as a whole, now measured directly rather than through same-sex couples.
- Whether governments use the data to fund services for LGBTQIA+ people, including older people, rural communities and refugees, who are too easily overlooked.
Overseas, direct measurement has already confirmed what the proxies suggested. In England and Wales, 62% of lesbian and gay people and 66% of bisexual people ticked “No religion” in the 2021 Census. That question was voluntary too, and 8.5% of respondents answered neither the sexual orientation nor the gender identity question. Only 3.4% of people aged 16 and over identified as LGBT, lower than some other surveys suggest, which may reflect that the question was optional. We’ll see whether Australia’s numbers look the same.
Then we need to look at ourselves
If the numbers confirm what the proxies suggest, LGBTQIA+ communities will face an uncomfortable question: why do so many of our public spaces still behave as though faith speaks for everyone? In Sodom Today, Gomorrah the World! we described religious privilege inside queer communities. Religious voices are routinely invited to speak for the community, while openly non-religious voices are rarely heard at conferences, rallies or in community media. “Faith and diversity” often means only faith, and reaching out to the religious is treated as an obligation, while reaching out to the non-religious is rarely considered.
Religious privilege isn’t only done to us by outside institutions. We sometimes reproduce it ourselves. So when the data arrives, we ask community organisations, event organisers and funders to:
- Count the non-religious in. Ask about religion, including no religion, in community surveys, and report the results.
- Check who is on the stage. Look at who is invited to speak at conferences, rallies and panels, and whether openly non-religious people are among them.
- Treat secular and religious inclusion equally. If faith groups have a seat at the table, humanist, atheist and secular groups should have one too.
- Stop assuming. Don’t treat religious voices as the default voice of the community.
None of this is a case against LGBTQIA+ people of faith. Many find belonging and affirmation in their communities, and we respect that. We should also celebrate their work to change homophobic doctrines from the inside. The point is fairness: representation should reflect who we are.
Being counted is not the same as being heard. But you can’t plan for people you can’t see, and now the data will start to show us. We’ll be watching how it is used, including by ourselves.
(c) 2026 Rainbow Humanists. All rights hereby returned to the original author. We acknowledge the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation, the Traditional Custodians of the land on which this material was prepared, and pay our respects to Elders past and present.
Published 18 August 2026; added to the archive in October.



