Bold statement first: volunteers carry a heavy, unseen burden, while current rules leave their mental scars unprotected. And this is the part most people miss: the people who save us often don’t have the same safety nets as paid workers when it comes to mental health support.
Volunteer firefighters are renewing calls for mental health cover under ACC. Peter Ottley vividly recalls how a single call-out to a fatal bus crash upended his world; two weeks later, he says he lost his footing. He lives with PTSD, but as with many emergency volunteers, he isn’t eligible for ACC coverage for mental injury.
Ottley’s frustration boils down to what feels like hollow apologies: words of support without real help. “We’ll do our best,” they say, but he counters that there is no best when money seems to trump lives.
Volunteers have pressed the government to change the law for years. A 2025 petition gathered 36,549 signatures but failed to move Parliament. Now Land Search and Rescue is pushing again, pointing to January’s Mt Maunganui tragedy as a stark illustration of repeated trauma with no long-term protection.
Long-time emergency volunteers Jarrad Scott and Peter Ottley describe a widening gap in coverage. Scott compares a scenario where a paid worker is covered for a crash while a volunteer saving lives is not, calling the current situation ridiculous.
Under present law, ACC could offer broad physical injury cover to volunteers, with mental injuries that stem from those incidents potentially covered if the condition arose from a physical injury. But unlike employees, volunteers don’t receive mental-health support for on-the-job experiences.
In other words: if you’ve not broken a limb or aren’t being paid, ACC won’t help with mental injury for volunteers.
The cumulative load
Scott, who spent 20 years with Land Search and Rescue (LandSAR), started to unravel after a missing-person call two years ago. He had a personal connection to the missing person and chose to attend, despite warnings to stay away.
He later faced a flood of mental health symptoms: persistent flashbacks and daydreams; he describes it as a waking nightmare. LandSAR provided some support via Employee Assistance Program, in-person counselling, and debriefs, then directed him to a GP. The GP arranged psychologist treatment and filed an ACC claim, which was denied because Scott was a volunteer.
When he asked how a paid colleague at the same scene would be covered, the response was that yes, the paid worker would be covered. That distinction widened the fracture in his mental health, which worsened over time.
Eventually diagnosed with PTSD, Scott received EMDR therapy funded by LandSAR, which helped markedly. Yet the larger system remained flawed. He wants future volunteers to be protected, and he notes a systemic flaw where an entire nation that relies heavily on volunteers still lacks mental-health coverage for those responders.
Rescuing their own
LandSAR chief executive Wendy Wright agrees the legislation is insufficient. She highlights that 95 percent of New Zealand’s search-and-rescue workforce are volunteers, driven by a desire to serve their communities. In events like Mount Maunganui, local Tauranga volunteers support their own communities, illustrating both the social value and the risk of cumulative trauma.
Sometimes one event is enough to cause a mental injury, while at other times the accumulation of multiple incidents does so.
The cost of volunteering
Ottley, who has served as a Kingston volunteer firefighter for 13 years, also describes a costly price. After a December 2024 bus crash, his world tilted, and he developed PTSD marked by anger, irritability, and mounting anxiety. His wife worked two jobs to keep things afloat.
FENZ has stated it prioritizes crew safety and provides free counselling and psychological support, but Ottley notes there is no system tailored for volunteers like him—even though funding for EMDR is available, the overarching framework remains lacking.
Government attitudes toward change
Parliament has shown limited appetite for reform, despite volunteers forming a large portion of Fire and Emergency’s front-line workforce. In late 2025 Parliament acknowledged volunteers’ essential service but declined to alter legislation due to concerns about setting precedents. The estimate for equitable ACC coverage for FENZ volunteers was around $244,533 per year—roughly $20 per volunteer annually.
On the other side, Labour’s ACC spokesperson Camilla Belich presented a more proactive stance. Her party advanced a Members Bill to extend the same ACC coverage to volunteer firefighters as their paid counterparts and indicated they would consider applying similar changes to other occupations if necessary. Labour promised a comprehensive ACC policy ahead of the election.
Volunteers at risk
Scott and Ottley see the issue as urgent and personal, warning that many more volunteers may be suffering in silence. Scott notes the hidden toll: PTSD, or worse, including the risk of self-harm, among those who serve without appropriate mental-health protection. Mount Maunganui alone saw around 25 volunteering firefighters respond to the landslide, often arriving before paid responders and facing intense trauma without adequate long-term support.
Ottley emphasizes the paradox that volunteers can receive paid time off for a broken leg, yet mental health remains undervalued. He argues for automatic access to support when needed, not a system where money determines care.
This story invites a broader conversation: should volunteer responders receive the same mental-health protections as their paid counterparts? If you agree or disagree, what changes would you advocate for, and how should the system balance cost with the wellbeing of those who serve on the front lines?
