STORY: WENLEI MA

 surprising thing happens when you google Natalie Barr’s name. Amid the entries for her Wikipedia page, her Instagram feed and stories on a 2024 revelation about skin cancer treatment, you’ll find pages of transcripts of interviews she’s done with politicians – Penny Wong, Peter Dutton, Jim Chalmers, Clare O’Neil, Murray Watt and Dai Le.

This is the intersection at which the reigning queen of breakfast TV sits — as a serious, experienced journalist who is just as comfortable being your best friend. She can interrogate a national leader and do an ice bath plunge, all live on air. 

STORY: WENLEI MA

 surprising thing happens when you google Natalie Barr’s name. Amid the entries for her Wikipedia page, her Instagram feed and stories on a 2024 revelation about skin cancer treatment, you’ll find pages of transcripts of interviews she’s done with politicians – Penny Wong, Peter Dutton, Jim Chalmers, Clare O’Neil, Murray Watt and Dai Le.

This is the intersection at which the reigning queen of breakfast TV sits — as a serious, experienced journalist who is just as comfortable being your best friend. She can interrogate a national leader and do an ice bath plunge, all live on air. 

Barr, who co-hosts with Matt Shirvington, has been getting up at an ungodly hour since 2008 when she joined the Sunrise team. She was elevated to anchor of the TV institution in 2021. It’s not an easy job — she’s at her desk at 3.30am — but it is a fun one, and yes, that includes interviewing pollies. 

Barr is live on air for three-and-a-half hours every morning, and the genre mix can sometimes lead people to forget how much she influences the national agenda.

With only four or five minutes with a politician, it’s her responsibility to distil a lot of jargon and doublespeak for the viewers at home. Chief to that is deciding which topics are going to matter the most to audiences who are juggling a million things in their lives. Do Australians care as much about factional infighting as they do about the cost of living?

If you give politicians the chance to spin, obfuscate and distract, they will, so being able to get them to focus and give a straight answer is crucial.

What comes out of those few moments can change the national conversation for the day, the week and longer. It can make or break the government or the opposition’s agenda. But there’s definitely no free ride.

“We try really hard to be right in the middle and ask fair questions,” Barr says. 

“The thing I take out of it is I get criticism from both sides of politics, and people who support each side of politics. So, it must be generally OK.”

Barr, who co-hosts with Matt Shirvington, has been getting up at an ungodly hour since 2008 when she joined the Sunrise team. She was elevated to anchor of the TV institution in 2021. It’s not an easy job — she’s at her desk at 3.30am — but it is a fun one, and yes, that includes interviewing pollies. 

Barr is live on air for three-and-a-half hours every morning, and the genre mix can sometimes lead people to forget how much she influences the national agenda.

With only four or five minutes with a politician, it’s her responsibility to distil a lot of jargon and doublespeak for the viewers at home. Chief to that is deciding which topics are going to matter the most to audiences who are juggling a million things in their lives. Do Australians care as much about factional infighting as they do about the cost of living?

If you give politicians the chance to spin, obfuscate and distract, they will, so being able to get them to focus and give a straight answer is crucial.

What comes out of those few moments can change the national conversation for the day, the week and longer. It can make or break the government or the opposition’s agenda. But there’s definitely no free ride.

“We try really hard to be right in the middle and ask fair questions,” Barr says. 

“The thing I take out of it is I get criticism from both sides of politics, and people who support each side of politics. So, it must be generally OK.”

Barr is well-researched, and that comes from 35 years as a journalist. That experience tells you that one of the biggest mistakes you can make is living inside a bubble.

“Everyone lives in a different house and a different neighbourhood, and we all talk and we all read newspapers and listen to other media and go through social media, and we gather information,” she says.

“We read things we don’t agree with, which is really important, and we read things that are written by people we don’t even like, which is essential.”

Her two sons, one who just finished university and the other still studying, have completely different views, so the family chat group is a dynamic place with loads of talk about politics. 

Barr is well-researched, and that comes from 35 years as a journalist. That experience tells you that one of the biggest mistakes you can make is living inside a bubble.

“Everyone lives in a different house and a different neighbourhood, and we all talk and we all read newspapers and listen to other media and go through social media, and we gather information,” she says.

“We read things we don’t agree with, which is really important, and we read things that are written by people we don’t even like, which is essential.”

Her two sons, one who just finished university and the other still studying, have completely different views, so the family chat group is a dynamic place with loads of talk about politics. 

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- NATALIE BARR

- NATALIE BARR

It’s those journalistic principles and instincts, built up over a career that started in her home State of WA, that steer her still. She remembered watching the likes of Jana Wendt and Mike Willesee, and how they were able to listen, be patient and ask what people were thinking — they also seemed to never attack people. 

Recalling one of the most famous exchanges in Australian current affairs, when in 1993 Willesee asked then opposition leader John Hewson if the cost of a birthday cake would be more under his GST proposal, Barr notes: “That interviewing was so incisive, he wasn’t angry, he was quiet and measured, but very pointed.

“Some people say that turned the election.”

Barr says she’s more confident now than she used to be, and trusts her gut. It took time. “I’m live and I’ve got four minutes and I’ve got to decide in a split second,” she explains. “Sometimes there will be a producer in my ear helping, often not, so there’s no choice. 

“I’ve had to go with my gut many, many times. I don’t think I could’ve done this years ago because I would’ve been too scared. If you second guess yourself, then you’ve lost the moment.” 

It’s those journalistic principles and instincts, built up over a career that started in her home State of WA, that steer her still. She remembered watching the likes of Jana Wendt and Mike Willesee, and how they were able to listen, be patient and ask what people were thinking — they also seemed to never attack people. 

Recalling one of the most famous exchanges in Australian current affairs, when in 1993 Willesee asked then opposition leader John Hewson if the cost of a birthday cake would be more under his GST proposal, Barr notes: “That interviewing was so incisive, he wasn’t angry, he was quiet and measured, but very pointed.

“Some people say that turned the election.”

Barr says she’s more confident now than she used to be, and trusts her gut. It took time. “I’m live and I’ve got four minutes and I’ve got to decide in a split second,” she explains. “Sometimes there will be a producer in my ear helping, often not, so there’s no choice. 

“I’ve had to go with my gut many, many times. I don’t think I could’ve done this years ago because I would’ve been too scared. If you second guess yourself, then you’ve lost the moment.” 

Hesitation on air is one thing, but once she’s wrapped for the day, Barr is highly self-analytical. She’ll be driving home and she’ll think of a question she should’ve asked, or she’ll wake up in the middle of the night with a follow-up that will now go unanswered. 

She’s never complacent. “I still have moments where I think, ‘where should I go next’ (in this interview), and that keeps me hungry, that keeps me aware that I need to do the work for this job. You cannot rock up without the research, any day of the week.”

She’s always looking for ways to do it better because nothing is perfect.

“But you know what, it’s so hard to get feedback in this business, very few people will tell you that,” she says.

“In my experience, very few people will tell you the truth. If you ask most people, ‘How was that?’, they’ll say, ‘Yeah, it was great’. That’s not what you need. 

“Maybe I’m too harsh (on myself), maybe that’s just my personality but I find there’s hardly anyone who will give me honest feedback.”

Hesitation on air is one thing, but once she’s wrapped for the day, Barr is highly self-analytical. She’ll be driving home and she’ll think of a question she should’ve asked, or she’ll wake up in the middle of the night with a follow-up that will now go unanswered. 

She’s never complacent. “I still have moments where I think, ‘where should I go next’ (in this interview), and that keeps me hungry, that keeps me aware that I need to do the work for this job. You cannot rock up without the research, any day of the week.”

She’s always looking for ways to do it better because nothing is perfect.

“But you know what, it’s so hard to get feedback in this business, very few people will tell you that,” she says.

“In my experience, very few people will tell you the truth. If you ask most people, ‘How was that?’, they’ll say, ‘Yeah, it was great’. That’s not what you need. 

“Maybe I’m too harsh (on myself), maybe that’s just my personality but I find there’s hardly anyone who will give me honest feedback.”

She gives credit to a former boss who once took her aside and told her that her interviewing style was all wrong, she was coming off as too aggressive. It was difficult to hear at the time, but she learnt from it.

Like many people in positions of influence, Barr is reluctant to accept the mantle. She generously credits the show’s success more generally, or chalks it down to timing — “sometimes we have the first interview” — too humble to acknowledge her place in the national conversation.

“I don’t like to think of it in those broad terms. I really don’t, which sounds stupid for someone who’s on national TV every day, but I like to concentrate on covering the points, on keeping people to account, on doing the journalism,” she says.

“I feel less self-conscious if I just concentrate on doing my job.”

She gives credit to a former boss who once took her aside and told her that her interviewing style was all wrong, she was coming off as too aggressive. It was difficult to hear at the time, but she learnt from it.

Like many people in positions of influence, Barr is reluctant to accept the mantle. She generously credits the show’s success more generally, or chalks it down to timing — “sometimes we have the first interview” — too humble to acknowledge her place in the national conversation.

“I don’t like to think of it in those broad terms. I really don’t, which sounds stupid for someone who’s on national TV every day, but I like to concentrate on covering the points, on keeping people to account, on doing the journalism,” she says.

“I feel less self-conscious if I just concentrate on doing my job.”

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Barr’s ability to move seamlessly from a lighthearted cooking segment, to a chat about school zone speed limits to grilling a politician hell-bent on avoiding the hard questions, all contribute to building up trust with the Sunrise audience. 

“We are coming into people’s lounge rooms and many people talk to us when we’re out and about, and they not only relate to us, they’ve been watching us through a generation now,” Barr says.

“Their kids have grown up with us, and they trust us and they seem to like us. It’s a like a friend.

“You tell them your opinion on different things, whatever the topic is, so then they learn about you and you learn about them. Over the years, we’ve garnered people’s respect and friendship, which is pretty special to have, and we don’t take that for granted.” 

Credit: Tim Levy.

Credit: Tim Levy.

Credit: Tim Levy.

Credit: Tim Levy.

Barr’s ability to move seamlessly from a lighthearted cooking segment, to a chat about school zone speed limits to grilling a politician hell-bent on avoiding the hard questions, all contribute to building up trust with the Sunrise audience. 

“We are coming into people’s lounge rooms and many people talk to us when we’re out and about, and they not only relate to us, they’ve been watching us through a generation now,” Barr says.

“Their kids have grown up with us, and they trust us and they seem to like us. It’s a like a friend.

“You tell them your opinion on different things, whatever the topic is, so then they learn about you and you learn about them. Over the years, we’ve garnered people’s respect and friendship, which is pretty special to have, and we don’t take that for granted.” 

If AM radio and “serious” news programs encapsulate overt, hard power, what Barr and Sunrise wields is soft power. It’s stealthier, you don’t always see it coming but it is just as effective. 

“You need some fun stuff, you need recipes, you need some cooking, you need light and shade, and we do that really well,” she explains. 

“I’m proud of how we adjust and go from one to the other. If you’re sitting at a dinner table or a breakfast table, (the conversation) shifts.

“People used to almost laugh at the way we go from a crime story to all the light stuff, but now they don’t because, that’s life. Who sits around for hours and only talks about one topic?” 

It’s that connection to audiences, when they see you as a real person and vice versa, that fosters a different kind of relationship. 

If AM radio and “serious” news programs encapsulate overt, hard power, what Barr and Sunrise wields is soft power. It’s stealthier, you don’t always see it coming but it is just as effective. 

“You need some fun stuff, you need recipes, you need some cooking, you need light and shade, and we do that really well,” she explains. 

“I’m proud of how we adjust and go from one to the other. If you’re sitting at a dinner table or a breakfast table, (the conversation) shifts.

“People used to almost laugh at the way we go from a crime story to all the light stuff, but now they don’t because, that’s life. Who sits around for hours and only talks about one topic?” 

It’s that connection to audiences, when they see you as a real person and vice versa, that fosters a different kind of relationship. 

For the people at home, whether that’s the viewers watching Sunrise live or catching a video snippet on social media, chances are they know Barr’s name but not necessarily the name of the politician she’s speaking with. They trust that Barr will represent them and ask what they want to know.

So, it becomes less about Barr interviewing the powerful people who make decisions on our behalf and more that those politicians get a chance to speak to ordinary Australians through Barr.

To her, though, she’s just doing her job. 

For the people at home, whether that’s the viewers watching Sunrise live or catching a video snippet on social media, chances are they know Barr’s name but not necessarily the name of the politician she’s speaking with. They trust that Barr will represent them and ask what they want to know.

So, it becomes less about Barr interviewing the powerful people who make decisions on our behalf and more that those politicians get a chance to speak to ordinary Australians through Barr.

To her, though, she’s just doing her job. 

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