The Lasting Impact of Barney Wakes-Miller’s Death

When a drunk driver killed our son, Barney Wakes-Miller, everything changed. The crash wasn’t just a singular moment of impact — it was the beginning of a lifetime of consequences, heartbreak, and disillusionment with a system that failed us at every turn.

Barney was seventeen years old. Bright, kind, funny, full of promise — and utterly irreplaceable. His death should have demanded justice. It should have shaken the foundations of every institution responsible for protecting innocent lives. Instead, what followed was a hollow procession of indifference, bureaucratic cruelty, and institutional failure.

The young man who killed our son walked free. He didn’t serve a day in jail. He said not one word of remorse in court. His penalty? A twelve-month driving ban. A year for taking a life. The message was loud and clear: our son's life was worth less than a license. Less than convenient. Less than nothing.

We were forced to sit in a courtroom and listen as the word accident was repeated — by police, by lawyers, by the judiciary, by the media and even the staff at the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions (despite our many protestations). As though Barney's death was a fluke. A slip-up. A moment of bad luck. But this wasn’t an accident. This was a preventable, criminal act. The driver made a choice — to get drunk, to get behind the wheel, to risk lives. The word accident stripped Barney’s death of its truth. It made our grief invisible. It let the perpetrator off the hook and let society move on, unbothered.

The injustice didn’t end there. We then had to navigate a compulsory third-party insurance scheme that felt more like psychological warfare than compensation. Rather than recognising our collective grief, the insurer treated each family member separately — as if they had the right to negotiate the impact of Barney’s death in different currencies. They dissected our pain, questioned our trauma, and ignored the fact that we were a family destroyed by a shared tragedy. Even the minors — Barney’s siblings — were subject to these indignities.

Every interaction forced us to relive the horror. Every form, every call, every delay was another blow. We were not treated with compassion. We were not supported. We were treated like claimants in a transactional process designed to protect profits, not people.

How did this happen? How did we build a system so ill-equipped to handle road trauma with the gravity it deserves?

It’s clear to us now: until we adopt a proper Safe System approach, one that prioritises human life above convenience, speed, and cost, this will continue to happen. A vehicle is a lethal weapon. In the wrong hands, it has the power to destroy lives in an instant. Like a gun, it should come with serious responsibility — and serious consequences when misused.

We need a game-changing shift in how the judiciary, the media, law enforcement, and the public view road crime. These aren’t accidents. They are preventable acts of violence. And we must respond to them with the same seriousness and resolve we would any other violent crime.

Barney’s death will never be undone. But if his story can help change the way we talk about — and respond to — road crime, then maybe we can prevent other families from enduring what we have. Maybe then, his life — and the injustice of his death — will not have been in vain.

Duncan Wakes-Miller, Barney’s father, is the co-founder of the Road Trauma Support Group NSW and serves as Deputy Chairman of the Road Trauma Support Group Australia. A passionate advocate for justice, inclusion, and community healing, Duncan brings both lived experience and professional leadership to his mission of reforming how Australia understands and responds to road trauma.

Following the tragic death of his 17-year-old son Barney, killed by a drunk driver in 2020, Duncan has worked tirelessly to challenge the systemic failures of the legal, media, and insurance frameworks that often re-traumatise victims’ families. Through his leadership roles at RTSG, he continues to champion a safe systems approach to road safety, legal reform, and greater support for families navigating the devastating aftermath of road-related crime.

In 2025, Duncan was appointed to the Serious Offender Review Council, where he contributes his perspective and experience to the oversight of offenders who have committed serious crimes, advocating for a justice system that is both fair and accountable.

Duncan is also the CEO of Northside Enterprise Inc. and Bushlink — a certified NDIS disability services provider, ACNC-registered charity, and pioneering social enterprise that creates real employment pathways and inclusive community programs for people with disabilities. Under his leadership, Northside and Bushlink deliver services that promote independence, skills development, and environmental stewardship, including through unique nature-based employment opportunities.

His dedication to public service extends well beyond the boardroom. Duncan is an active volunteer with the NSW Rural Fire Service and Sydney Wildlife Rescue, giving his time to protect both communities and wildlife.

A father, cancer survivor, mentor, and purpose-driven leader, Duncan combines empathy with action, working across sectors to drive meaningful change and build a society where everyone belongs, contributes, and is protected.