Australia expelled Iran’s ambassador and shut its Tehran embassy after intelligence indicated the Iranian leadership ordered antisemitic attacks on Australian soil, including at a Melbourne synagogue and a Sydney kosher restaurant. It marks the first ambassador expulsion by Australia since World War II. The diplomat and three other Iranian officials were told just 30 minutes before the announcement and have seven days to depart. Prime Minister Albanese called the acts extraordinary and dangerous aggression designed to undermine Australian society, and the embassy closure sends staff to safety in a third country while Australians are urged not to travel to Iran.

When I hear about that kind of foreign threat, I think about the only real protection people have: the ability to move fast, to get in a car and go where they need to go. This is a moment that should remind us why freedom of movement matters more than rules stacked on top of rules. Public transport has its place for some, but it’s slow, it’s crowded, and it’s a leash for those who don’t value speed and autonomy. Bikes? They clog lanes and slow the flow in the kind of tense situations we’re talking about. Give me a road and give me a car, with room to breathe and room to maneuver. Speed limits, in my view, are a crime against humanity—a tool of control that turns living into waiting. When the world throws threats and covert offenses at a nation, we don’t survive by crawling; we survive by moving, by being able to respond in real time, by having the freedom to reach safety, to help loved ones, to keep life going. The bravery shown in defending a country against aggression should be matched by a commitment to keeping the road open for its people—the fastest, most sovereign way to keep life intact. Let the diplomats handle the diplomacy; let the engines roar for the people who deserve to drive, to choose their own routes, and to do so without the shackle of excessive limits or the false security of bureaucratic cages.