For Minnie McDonald, the class action represented hope — justice after decades of unpaid work.
The lawsuit was supposed to right a wrong, provide compensation for thousands of Aboriginal workers who received little or no money for their labour.
Instead, some Aboriginal workers and their families will end up with payouts as little as $10,000, while the law firm and its financial backers have pocketed tens of millions.
Minnie agreed to be the lead plaintiff in a Northern Territory class action, meaning she represented the group, instructed the lawyers, reviewed costs, and signed legal documents on behalf of the group.
But Minnie cannot read or write.
For help, she relied partly on her granddaughter, who has no legal experience, alongside Shine's lawyers. Shine told Four Corners that Minnie was given independent legal advice.
One document Minnie signed was a proposed $11 million increase to Shine's costs.
On average, at least one class action is launched every week against banks, governments, and big corporations in Australia.
But the stolen wages case raises questions about whether class actions are delivering justice for ordinary Australians or are simply money-making exercises for lawyers and investors.
On average, at least one class action is being launched every week in Australia. (Four Corners)
'Worked like slaves'
Minnie was just 14 years old when she started working on an outback station near the Queensland-Northern Territory border.
Her family was paid in rations of flour, sugar, and tea.
Now aged in her 90s, Minnie still remembers life on the station.
"It was hard work," she says.
Living in a tent and working alongside her family, they would occasionally receive the bones of a bullock killed by the station owner and cook it over an open fire.
"My mother used to cook it. Backbone, leg bone, everything," she says.
In Western Australia, Mervyn Street and his family lived and worked on another station and were also paid in rations. Mervyn remembers his father being given "a blanket, a canvas and an axe".
"My family worked like slaves," he says.
"I was too young to get pay."
Like Minnie, Mervyn was the lead plaintiff in the WA class action representing thousands of Aboriginal men, women, and children who lived and worked on stations and in missions over the past century, receiving little to no pay.
Like Minnie, he cannot read or write, and he relied on a younger relative and Shine lawyers to help him.
Thousands of Aboriginal workers and their families signed up to class actions in Western Australia and the Northern Territory to recover stolen wages. (Four Corners)
The business of pursuing justice
Class actions are hugely expensive, but a law change in Australia almost 20 years ago transformed them into a form of investment where "litigation funders" provide the capital.
These dedicated companies team up with lawyers to finance the legal costs of a class action in return for a slice of any payout. When they are successful, funders can more than double or triple their money.
However, if they lose, the funders lose their investment and have to pay the other side's costs.
The chairman of the Association of Litigation Funders of Australia, John Walker, says they don't see it as gambling.
"We see it as investing. It's a market. And I don't step away from that."
John Walker pioneered litigation funding in Australia. (Four Corners)
This business model was how legal firm Shine Lawyers was able to launch class actions in NT and WA to recoup stolen wages, after securing the backing of Litigation Lending Services, a company chaired by billionaire businessman Shaun Bonett.
It took four years, but both class actions eventually reached a settlement. In WA, the state government agreed to pay $180 million, and the federal government paid about $200 million for the NT.
But first, the law firm and investors have to take their cut.
Shine Lawyers will receive more than $41 million in approved costs for its work in both cases, while Litigation Lending Services will take a commission of up to $57 million.
The exact amount that Aboriginal workers will receive is unclear because the final number of eligible recipients is not known.
Based on court documents, Four Corners estimates the workers will get between $10,000 and $14,000. If those workers have died, the amount will be divided among their families.
Although it was Minnie who had to approve the proposed settlement, she said it wasn't enough. She had hoped there would be enough to buy a car so that her children "could take me for a picnic somewhere, you know, have a feed, cook kangaroo tail or whatever, but I didn't get enough".
When Four Corners spoke to Mervyn, he was unaware of the final payout individuals would receive until it was spelt out to him.
"What you're telling me is not good enough," he says.
"People have big families. How are they going to spread that through the family?"
Mervyn Street was the lead plaintiff in the stolen wages class action in WA. (File photo)
Shine Lawyers did not want to do an interview with Four Corners.
It said in a statement that governments ignored "the stories of indigenous workers who were denied fair wages. Shine Lawyers gave Aboriginal workers "the chance to tell their stories, receive compensation and be acknowledged … for the historical injustices they suffered".
When asked about Minnie and Mervyn's inability to read and write, and their capacity to understand legal and financial issues, Shine said: "We are confused that the ABC would suggest that illiteracy implies a lack of intelligence".
"This is an unacceptable proposition."
Shine said it was not appropriate to comment on "the way in which we provided advice … as these are privileged communications".
"We can confirm, however, that both clients received independent legal advice" and that "Shine Lawyers used Aboriginal barristers to bridge communication and cultural barriers".
Former Indigenous affairs minister Linda Burney questioned how much people understood about the class action.
"If you are illiterate, if you're innumerate, and your first language is not English, how on earth are people supposed to understand anything?" she says.
"It is very exploitative because you are seeing such a disparity in the outcomes for the legal teams financially, and the outcomes for those that have joined the class action."
Shine said both Minnie McDonald and Mervyn Street received independent legal advice. (Four Corners)
'A money-making exercise'
The stolen wages cases have highlighted concerns about the business model underpinning class actions in Australia and the amounts being taken away by funders and lawyers.
The judges who oversaw the WA and NT class actions flagged their concerns about the high legal costs when delivering their judgements, but ultimately approved the settlement amounts as "fair and reasonable".
In the NT, Chief Justice Debra Mortimer was scathing in her judgement, saying "the pursuit of the business model" had, at times, overshadowed the good intentions of the lawyers.
She said "it would not be surprising" if Aboriginal workers who were part of the class action thought that "the proceeding was little more than a money-making exercise for others".
"It seems to me a not inconsiderable number of people … would be frustrated and likely mystified about how city-based non-Indigenous participants in this proceeding come out with so much money compared to their family and friends," Justice Mortimer said.
"I doubt they would see much social justice in this outcome."
Chief Justice Mortimer raised concerns about the business model in the NT stolen wages case. (Four Corners)
In WA, Justice Bernard Murphy remarked on the "enormous costs" Shine racked up travelling around the state signing people up to the class action.
Part of those costs included law clerks who were billed out at a rate of $375 an hour, even though many of them were undergraduate law students.
Describing the charges as "excessive" and "seriously overblown", Justice Murphy deducted $4 million from the firm's claims.
Shine said "the costs were incurred over the course of six years" and that "a significant portion … came as a result of a "court-ordered outreach and registration process".
The hidden costs of a class action
The breakdown of what lawyers are charging is rarely disclosed, even to members of a class action other than the lead plaintiff, although class members can usually request access.
But a confidential report of Shine's costs was released to Four Corners after an application through the courts, revealing in granular detail what the law firm charged while working on the WA class action.
It shows Shine had at least a dozen barristers — one charging almost $5,000 an hour — who billed the class action almost $3.5 million.
But there were bills that were rejected by a costs expert appointed by the court.
Shine tried to charge almost $35,000 for booking and credit card fees from its clients, but the expert rejected the costs because they were "usually considered to be an overhead of the business rather than a cost reasonably borne by the applicant".
Thousands of dollars for Uber and taxi fares were also rejected.
Shine also tried to claim tens of thousands of dollars for "grocery items, meals purchased whilst travelling to various communities, and meals and alcohol purchased in hotels and restaurants".
The expert rejected these, saying these "should form part of the firm's internal overheads in running a matter such as this".
Shine's barristers billed the WA stolen wages class action for almost $3.5 million. (Four Corners)
The funder of the stolen wages cases, Litigation Lending Services, bankrolled another action in Queensland.
They are set to make up to $95 million in commission from all three cases, which equates to a 250 per cent return on their investment.
The funder, Litigation Lending Services said "the real injustice" is how "government fought these claims fiercely, with considerable public resources over many years".
"Without LLS's financial support and commitment to taking on all the risk, these claims would not have been brought and group members would have received nothing," it said in a statement.
It told Four Corners it was proud of its role and its commission was lower than market rates "to reflect the social justice nature of the claims".
George Dann, a member of the WA class action who started work at age 14, was appalled by the amount going to Shine and Litigation Lending Services.
He says the amount being taken in fees and commissions is disgraceful.
"They get that in an hour, what our family would get in a year," he says.
His cousin, Sharon Todd, who put in claims for both her parents, was shocked to learn of the sums.
"It's a real insult. It just makes me feel that we are an industry that is being used over and over again to make money for other people," she says.
"How are these people sleeping at night?"
George Dann (right) and his cousins Sharon Todd (centre) and Jenny Baraga. (Four Corners)
Although the Federal Court approved the settlement almost a year ago, none of the people who joined the WA class action have received any money.
The administrator, Grant Thornton, which is being paid up to $3 million to administer the funds, says it has been unable to distribute the funds because it has been dealing with the Australian Taxation Office over a tax issue, which has now been resolved. Shine Lawyers has been paid its share.
"It's a farce," George Dann says.
"A lot of people worked all their life, and for this to happen, it's a terrible thing."
Balancing litigation and regulation
In Canberra, there has been a political battle over the lack of regulation for law firms and litigation funders in the current class action system.
Most of the litigation funders operating in Australia come from overseas, with some of them based in tax havens. They are not required to hold a financial licence with ASIC, the corporate regulator.
"We have a system where litigation funders who were taking sometimes 30, 40 per cent of the settlement away from victims operate in a largely unregulated environment," says David Hughes of the Liberal-aligned Menzies Research Centre.
"In many instances, you could argue that they have less regulation than real estate agents or mortgage brokers."
David Hughes says litigation funders operate in a largely unregulated environment in Australia. (Four Corners)
The Morrison government tried to crack down on lawyers and funders in 2021 by capping legal fees and funder commissions at 30 per cent of the settlement.
Labor opposed the proposal and the legislation never went through parliament.
Mr Hughes believes Labor's opposition was a result of the party's connection to the law firms.
"The Labor Party has had strong links with what we call these plaintiff law firms, so think of the Slater and Gordons and the Maurice Blackburns … they're often seen as a training ground for future Labor politicians," he says.
"Labor was sympathetic to the cause of these plaintiff law firms, but ultimately these plaintiff law firms just knew that their profit share was at risk if these reforms went through."
Maurice Blackburn said it "actively engaged with decision-makers … to make sure everyday Australians were better represented by the law".
A statement from Attorney-General Michelle Rowland said class actions provided an important pathway for Australians who might otherwise be denied justice.
Regulation for law firms and litigation funders in the class action system has been the subject of a political battle. (Four Corners)
John Walker, the head of the Litigation Funders Association of Australia, says the Coalition and the Liberal-aligned Menzies Research Centre have their own agenda in wanting to protect "the big end of town" from shareholder class actions against big business.
He says litigation funders are necessary to pay the legal bills so that ordinary people can get justice.
"We're a for-profit industry and we seek to maximise profit as much as we can, but at the same time seek to focus on creating value," he says.
Mr Walker also disputes suggestions that litigation funders are not regulated.
"We are regulated daily. The system has a capacity to do the best it can. It has checks and balances," he says.
"We need to submit to the court and say, 'You tell us what we are going to get paid.'
"[I] believe that we aren't overpaid."
Putting public interest before profit
Barrister Peter Cashman, who was at the forefront of class actions in the 1990s, believes the system needs to change to ensure group members get a fair share of the settlement.
"Transaction costs are high, the legal costs are high, the funding commissions are high, and the ultimate people who pay the price are the consumers or the class members," he says.
Peter Cashman wants to see a system where group members get a fair share of the settlement. (Four Corners)
"Australia has become a honey pot for commercial investors in litigation. They're not in it for love, and they're not in it to further the interests of access to justice. They're in it for the money.
"Profitability has become the prevailing mantra."
Mr Cashman wants to see the federal government establish an alternative model to fund class actions and prevent them from becoming money-making machines.
"You need a publicly funded not-for-profit entity to fill the void that was filled by commercial funders that would do the cases without seeking to make a profit out of it … where the transaction costs are lower, and where the funder is interested in funding … public interest cases."
Watch Four Corners's full investigation, The Price of Justice, tonight at 8:30pm on ABC TV and ABC iview.
Editor's Note: August 4, 2025: An earlier version of this story contained the wrong name of the judge who oversaw the NT case. Her name is Chief Justice Debra Mortimer.
