Nedd Brockmann: A Hero Running for the Homeless, or Just Running for Fame?

Australia has fallen in love with Nedd Brockmann, the marathon-running, mullet-wearing sensation who ran across the country to raise money for homelessness. His inspiring feat—3800 kilometers, 100 kilometers a day—captivated the nation. Brockmann became a symbol of resilience, generosity, and community spirit, raising millions of dollars in the process.

But in a world that elevates influencers and celebrates image over substance, we must ask: Who really is Nedd Brockmann? Is he a modern-day hero driven by genuine concern for the homeless, or is he a savvy marketer capitalizing on a feel-good cause?

Running as a Space for Reflection—Did Nedd Make Use of It?

Anyone who has completed a long run knows the mental clarity that can come when the mind quiets, and the body slips into a meditative rhythm. Running offers space for deep introspection—a chance to reflect on personal struggles, resolve life questions, and process emotions.

With 46 days of relentless running across the Australian landscape, Brockmann seemingly had the perfect opportunity to reflect deeply on the very issue that inspired his mission: homelessness. He has shared how moving from the rural town of Forbes to Sydney left him "stunned" by the homelessness he saw on the streets, inspiring his marathon effort to raise funds. Yet, his actions after the run raise uncomfortable questions.

Soon after completing his monumental feat, Brockmann was spotted at the Melbourne Cup, Australia’s most infamous day of horse racing and gambling. This raises an ethical dilemma: If Brockmann cared so deeply about the homeless, how could he participate in and endorse an event so closely linked with gambling—a known driver of addiction and homelessness?

The Dark Side of the Melbourne Cup and Its Impact on Homelessness

The Melbourne Cup is more than a glamorous horse race. It is also a massive gambling event, with Australians betting over $220 million annually on the Cup alone. Gambling addiction is one of the leading contributors to homelessness in Australia.

According to recent studies, around 37% of people seeking help from homelessness services have experienced gambling-related harm. Gambling companies target the vulnerable with aggressive advertising, which leads many into a cycle of debt and poverty. For someone as passionate about homelessness as Brockmann claims to be, his enthusiastic presence at the Melbourne Cup feels more than a little contradictory.

Hero or Fame-Seeker? Exploring Brockmann’s Motivations

Brockmann’s post-run behavior brings his character into question. Did he truly care about addressing homelessness, or was the cause just a convenient narrative? In interviews, Brockmann has admitted that he wanted to find a way to "make a living" through his runs. This raises another question: Was the marathon effort less about addressing homelessness and more about crafting a marketable persona that could attract sponsorships and media attention?

In today’s capitalist world, it is easy to confuse visibility with virtue. We are drawn to loud, charismatic figures who know how to play the media game. False heroes thrive in this environment, garnering fame and financial rewards, while the quiet workers—those truly committed to fighting homelessness—go unnoticed. These are the people who understand the systemic roots of homelessness, including rising housing costs, mental health challenges, and gambling addiction.

Unfortunately, Brockmann’s participation in the Melbourne Cup aligns more with the interests of corporations profiting from addiction than with the values of those working tirelessly to combat homelessness.

A Misalignment Between Words and Actions?

It is disappointing to see someone with Brockmann’s platform miss the opportunity to challenge the very systems that perpetuate homelessness. Imagine if he had used his voice to raise awareness about the connection between gambling and homelessness. Imagine if, instead of attending the Cup, he had spoken out against it and urged Australians to think more critically about where their money goes.

Instead, Brockmann’s choices suggest a desire to maintain his appeal as a public figure—a brand ambassador who plays the game of capitalism well. After all, criticizing gambling companies could alienate sponsors, tarnish his image, and jeopardize future opportunities.

The Rise of Performative Activism

Brockmann's story reflects a broader societal trend: the rise of performative activism, where individuals champion causes not out of genuine concern but for personal gain—whether it be fame, financial rewards, or social capital. In today’s world, activism is increasingly becoming a commodity, something people use to build brands and secure opportunities.

It’s a phenomenon that flourishes on social media, where optics often matter more than outcomes. With well-placed hashtags and perfectly curated photo ops, it’s easy for influencers and public figures to project an image of compassion without making a meaningful impact. While these campaigns can raise awareness and funds, they often lack depth and critical engagement with the issues they claim to address.

In Brockmann’s case, his marathon across Australia was framed as a mission to help the homeless. But by failing to engage with the root causes—poverty, addiction, mental illness, and systemic inequalities—his campaign risks becoming another example of performative activism. His participation in the Melbourne Cup suggests that his concern for the homeless was more of a narrative device than a genuine commitment.

Awareness vs. Action: The Real Cost of Performative Activism

The problem with performative activism is that it shifts the focus from the issue at hand to the individual promoting it. Instead of interrogating the structural causes of homelessness or critiquing industries like gambling that perpetuate inequality, the spotlight stays on the hero figure—in this case, Brockmann. While his run may have raised awareness, awareness alone is not enough to drive change.

This kind of activism often creates the illusion that the issue has been "addressed" because money was raised or attention was garnered. But without deeper efforts—such as policy advocacy, education, and systemic interventions—performative activism can do more harm than good by overshadowing the work of people on the ground who are committed to lasting change.

Homelessness organizations that tirelessly work to provide services and fight for policy reform know all too well that temporary fundraising campaigns can only do so much. What these causes need are advocates who are willing to dive into the messy complexities of the issues—something Brockmann’s Melbourne Cup appearance suggests he was not prepared to do.

The Business of Virtue: Capitalism and the Co-Option of Causes

In 2024, capitalism has a way of absorbing everything—including virtue. Causes that were once countercultural or disruptive are now packaged into consumable narratives, sold to audiences hungry for feel-good stories. Companies seek out individuals like Brockmann to front campaigns because they know these figures can create buzz, generate positive press, and associate their brand with social good. But the causes themselves often take a backseat.

This is where Brockmann’s desire to turn ultra-running into a career becomes problematic. While there’s nothing wrong with personal ambition, the commercialization of causes like homelessness undermines their seriousness. When the story becomes about the runner rather than the people suffering, the issue is diluted. The people affected by homelessness become props in a performance that benefits others more than it benefits them.

By attending the Melbourne Cup—a playground for wealth and excess—Brockmann showed how easy it is for performative activists to live in contradiction. One day, he’s running for the homeless; the next, he’s rubbing shoulders with gamblers, celebrities, and elites, participating in an event that directly harms the very people he claimed to help.

False Heroes and the Erosion of Trust

The rise of performative activism has also eroded public trust. When figures like Brockmann fall short of the ideals they promote, it leaves people feeling disillusioned. It reinforces the belief that modern-day heroes are more interested in building personal brands than creating real change.

This erosion of trust has a ripple effect. It discourages people from engaging with genuine causes and supporting organizations that are doing the hard work. If every high-profile campaign turns out to be just another marketing ploy, people grow cynical and disengaged, which ultimately harms the people who need help the most.

What We Need Instead: Authentic Activism

In a world filled with performative activists, authentic activism is becoming rare—and more necessary than ever. Authentic activism means living in alignment with the values you promote, even when it’s inconvenient or unpopular. It means using your platform to call out industries and practices that harm vulnerable people, even if it means sacrificing sponsorships and personal gain.

For someone like Brockmann, authentic activism would have looked different. It would have involved more than just running marathons. It would have required deeper engagement with homelessness, an understanding of the structural causes, and a willingness to challenge industries like gambling that perpetuate these issues.

Imagine if, instead of attending the Melbourne Cup, Brockmann had used his platform to speak out against the harm caused by gambling. Imagine if he had aligned himself with organizations working to end homelessness and called out the systems that keep people on the streets. That kind of courage takes character.

Conclusion: Time to Look Beyond the Hype

Nedd Brockmann’s run across Australia was an impressive feat of physical endurance, but the story we should focus on isn’t just about the miles he ran—it’s about the character he showed, or failed to show, along the way.

In a society hungry for heroes, it’s easy to get swept up in narratives that feel good on the surface but crumble under scrutiny. Brockmann’s story reminds us that we need to look deeper, beyond the hype, to understand who our heroes really are. Are they people who live their values, or just individuals chasing fame under the guise of activism?

Ultimately, the people who deserve our admiration are not those who run for the cameras but those who work quietly, away from the spotlight, fighting the battles that truly matter. Brockmann may have raised money, but the question remains: Did he really care about homelessness, or was it just another stop on the path to personal success?

The answer lies not in the kilometers he ran, but in the choices he made when the race was over.

#lookdeeper with Evan Sutter