How One Minister Took Government From Paper to Platform
When you meet Victor Dominello, it’s hard not to be struck by his sharp intellect, deep sense of purpose, and remarkable impact on public life.
As a former senior minister in the New South Wales Government, Victor has carved out a legacy as one of Australia’s leading innovators, earning global recognition for pioneering the world’s first Minister for Customer Service and Digital role in 2019.
Named one of Australia’s Top 100 Innovators by The Australian in July 2022, Victor’s 12 years in cabinet saw him oversee critical portfolios spanning digital government, finance, innovation, and Aboriginal Affairs.
Before politics, however, Victor’s journey began not with technology or governance but the law.
A trained litigation lawyer, he practised for over a decade, rising to become a partner in a commercial law firm. That analytical, evidence-driven, and systems-oriented legal foundation would become the bedrock for his later political achievements.
When I sat down with Victor for this conversation, I was reminded of how grateful I am to have known and advised him over the years. It’s a privilege to share time with someone whose domestic and international reputation precedes them.
Yet, as I reminded him, even the most respected public figures start somewhere. So I asked: Where did his journey begin? What set him on the path to becoming not just a minister, but a name, a brand, and a leader in the digital government space?
Victor was quick to point to a defining chapter early in his political life: his time as Minister for Aboriginal Affairs.
Looking back at his inaugural speech, he told me, there was no mention of data, digital transformation, or customer experience, which would later define his ministerial brand.
But everything changed in 2012 or 2013 when a harrowing incident of child sexual abuse in a remote community forced Victor and a group of ministers to confront the systemic failures of siloed government departments.
I listened closely as Victor recounted the moment that reshaped his purpose.
Health, police, education, and community services each had isolated data but no unified system or real-time indicators.
When Victor asked the Department of Education how many children weren’t in school, a key red flag, they told him they’d get back to him in a month. A month. For children already falling through the cracks.
In that moment, Victor told me, he made a personal vow: every day he had the privilege of serving in parliament, he would “digitise the bejesus” out of everything he touched.
Not for the sake of technology itself, but to create visibility, accountability, and above all, better outcomes, especially for the most vulnerable.
This, Victor explained, is where the seeds of his digital transformation journey were sown: not in flashy innovations or apps, but in a deep moral drive to use data and systems to protect human lives.
The Family Values Behind Lasting Leadership
As we spoke about Victor’s career, it became clear that the roots of his leadership style ran deep all the way back to his childhood.
I asked him directly where his grounding and moral compass came from. Without hesitation, Victor’s face lit up as he spoke about his parents.
Although his father has since passed away, Victor shared that he still carries their influence with him every day. If he can be even a quarter of the person they were, he feels he’s doing alright.
Victor’s family story is one many Australians can recognise: his parents immigrated to Australia when they were just ten years old, and the family worked really hard to build a life.
While his mates might have been off at the beach, young Victor was in the fields, picking carnations on the family’s farm.
It was, as he put it, “struggle street all the time.” But through those years of hard work, resilience, and sacrifice, his parents instilled in him something far more valuable than material wealth: an unwavering sense of responsibility to care for those less fortunate.
He also spoke about the impact of attending Catholic school, where values like service, humility, and community were deeply ingrained.
Listening to Victor, I was reminded of my own childhood moments visiting the Far West Children’s Home, encountering Indigenous kids and gaining early exposure to life’s inequalities.
It’s these encounters, Victor and I agreed, that plant the seeds of empathy and open our eyes to the rich diversity and disparities within our society.
Victor then reflected on how that moral foundation would come full circle when he was handed the Aboriginal Affairs portfolio as a nervous new minister. “I remember thinking, ‘Why me?’” he admitted. “I didn’t know anyone from the community. I didn’t even think we had an Aboriginal student at my school.”
Yet that appointment turned out to be one of the greatest blessings of his career.
What made the difference? The generosity of the Aboriginal elders, who took the time to teach him not just about their communities but about the power of storytelling.
It was through their example that Victor learned a critical leadership truth: reforms, policies, and change don’t move forward on facts and figures alone.
They move when you can connect, communicate, and bring people along through the power of story.
Why the Government Must Embrace a Customer Mindset
When I think back on Victor’s public career, the transformation is striking.
He began as the Minister for Aboriginal Affairs, focused on cultural and social policy, but over time, he became widely known as “Mr. Customer Service,” both in New South Wales and internationally.
I asked him how that evolution happened.
Victor was candid: the shift wasn’t driven by a love of technology or data for its own sake. It was always about outcomes. “People see me as the data guy, the one always asking, ‘Where’s the real-time data? Why isn’t this digitised?” he said with a laugh.
But, as he explained, that obsession came from a deep commitment to improving the human experience. The technology, the numbers, and the digitisation were simply tools to get there.
Peeling it all back, Victor said the mission was clear: how can the government evolve to deliver better outcomes for people? That line hit me.
For too long, the government has been entrenched in transactional thinking, focused on departments, processes, and systems, often forgetting the people at the centre.
Victor argued that the big breakthrough shifted from seeing people as faceless citizens or users to recognising them as customers. This wasn’t about labels or commercial language it was about mindset.
As he put it, “What about tourists, refugees, visa holders, businesses? They’re not citizens. Should they get a lower quality of service? No.
The word ‘customer’ carries a sense of empowerment, of agency. The customer can expect value, dignity, and responsiveness.”
He went even further. Victor told me that some departments had started to move backward, replacing “customer” with terms like “passenger”, a word that symbolised passivity, even powerlessness. That’s the opposite of what modern government should stand for.
Future-focused public service, Victor insisted, is about creating co-owners and co-creators, not passengers, in shaping how services work.
I couldn’t help but agree.
At its heart, leadership is about relationships. When we interact with another human being, whether in government, business, or community and fail to approach that interaction as a chance to serve, we erode the fabric of trust and connection.
Victor’s framing of public service as a living relationship, not a transaction, is precisely the kind of thinking that reinvigorates not only systems but society itself.
The Rise of a Global Reputation in Digital Innovation
As our conversation deepened, I couldn’t help but ask Victor whether he saw himself as a brand.
It’s an interesting question, especially for someone who, on paper, has become synonymous with digital government transformation, not just in New South Wales but across the globe.
Victor smiled thoughtfully. “I never thought I’d see myself that way,” he admitted.
But over the last five or six years, especially during the COVID-19 crisis when he became a regular face on television, the public began to recognise him.
Slowly, he began to understand that whether or not he intended it, a personal brand had taken shape around his leadership.
What struck me most was not just how Victor accepted this reputation but how it had transcended borders.
He shared a story from Mongolia, where he consulted with the World Bank.
To his surprise, local leaders were building their own “Service Mongolia,” and they had used Service NSW as a case study, even asking Victor for a photo together. “Who am I?” Victor recalled thinking. “Why would they want a photo with me?”
That moment highlighted something important: the work Victor and his team had done in New South Wales wasn’t just good; it was world-class.
And he was quick to emphasise the “we.” “Sure, I was there,” he said, “but it was an amazing team. It was a collective achievement.”
Indeed, when you consider how other jurisdictions were knocking on New South Wales’ door, eager to understand the secret sauce behind their service innovation, it’s clear this was no ordinary reform effort.
For Victor, the core of his brand isn’t about flashy technology or digital wizardry. He prefers “service transformation” over “digital transformation” because, as he explained, digital is merely the tool not the goal.
Great government, he emphasised, must offer omnichannel approaches that serve all people, including those like his own mother who might not feel comfortable navigating digital-only services.
In other words, the true heart of Victor’s global reputation is not the technology itself but the vision of inclusivity, accessibility, and human-centred design that underpins it.
And that’s what makes his work resonate far beyond the borders of New South Wales.
A Mission to Reduce Suffering and Elevate Lives
As we continued our conversation, Victor’s voice took on a deeper, more personal tone. He leaned in, speaking not as a politician or a strategist but as someone profoundly driven by purpose.
Victor explained that at the heart of everything he does is a massive transformational goal: to use data and digital technology not simply to improve systems but to reduce human suffering and elevate the quality of life.
It’s not about streamlining for the sake of efficiency, he told me, though, of course, improving processes matters.
The real “why” goes far beyond productivity metrics.
He gave an example that struck me deeply: imagine someone grieving the loss of a loved one, already navigating immense emotional pain, and then being forced to complete endless forms, jump through bureaucratic hoops, and revisit their trauma again and again.
And it’s exactly the kind of invisible harm that can be reduced, or even eliminated, through thoughtful digital reform.
Sure, cleaning up backend systems and automating services might make the government look more modern.
But Victor’s deeper motivation is simple, human, and moral: it is the civil, humane thing to do to relieve people of unnecessary burdens during their hardest moments.
For Victor, this mission and this value system drive not just his work but the work of many others in the digital government space.
Together, they are on a collective journey to reimagine what government can and should be: a force for compassion, dignity, and real human impact.
The Power of Authenticity in Building Reputation
When I asked Victor about his earliest understanding of reputation, his answer wasn’t what you might expect from someone who has become a prominent public figure.
Rather than pointing to a defining political moment, Victor took me back to his years as a lawyer and even further, to his upbringing.
He spoke with deep affection about his parents, Italian migrants who worked tirelessly to give their children a better life. That sense of duty and respect was ingrained early and ran deep.
But reputation, as Victor knows well, isn’t always easy to carry. He shared how, as a young boy, he was embarrassed by his Italian heritage.
Though born in Australia, he spoke with an accent after being raised bilingual, which made him a target for teasing at school.
For years, he shunned parts of his identity, avoiding time in the sun to not darken his skin and even refusing to speak Italian at home.
It wasn’t until later, when he matured and fully embraced the value of his dual heritage, that Victor realised how diversity enriched his life. “I’m blessed,” he told me. “I get to be both Italian and Australian.” That acceptance fortified him, especially when public life later tested his resilience.
Politics, after all, is a tough arena.
Victor recalled the shock of seeing his name in a negative press piece for the first time, particularly when pushing reforms like digital identity. “I was mortified,” he admitted.
But over time, he developed the emotional armour to stand firm. “My values are good, my heart’s in the right place, and I know our North Star,” he said.
That clarity and authenticity gave him the strength to navigate political storms without losing himself.
Interestingly, Victor never set out to build a public-facing brand.
In fact, many of his reforms, like digitising clunky government processes or introducing digital driver’s licenses, were hardly the kind of stories that made front-page news.
Frustrated by the lack of mainstream media attention, he turned to LinkedIn, where he began sharing updates directly with the community.
To his surprise, the response was overwhelming. People resonated with the reforms, mission, and human impact behind the policy changes.
Eventually, even the media came knocking, not because of flashy headlines but because of the authentic, grassroots reputation he had built through honest, direct communication.
It’s a powerful reminder that while institutions may chase the next big story, communities care deeply about the stories that change their lives.
And in the end, it’s authenticity, not polish, that shapes a reputation that lasts.
The Ethics Guiding Modern Digital Leadership
One of the most pressing challenges facing leaders is maintaining ethical guardrails while driving innovation.
I asked Victor how much time he had spent thinking about this delicate balance, and his answer revealed that he was a leader who was deeply attuned to both opportunity and responsibility.
Victor admitted that his thinking on this evolved significantly, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic. “Before COVID, I was out four or five nights a week at events,” he said. “But during lockdown, I finally had time to think to, read, research, and reflect.”
He immersed himself in books by thought leaders like Yuval Noah Harari, watched documentaries like Coded Bias, and studied both the promise and the risks of emerging technologies.
But theory wasn’t the only teacher. The practice was, too.
Victor recalled missteps, including a data breach, that reminded him that resilience is a cornerstone of trust.
That lesson, combined with his research, inspired Victor to develop what he calls the SPRITE framework:
Security
Privacy
Resilience
Inclusion
Transparency
Ethics
These principles became the lens through which Victor approached digital service delivery. For him, trust begins with three critical elements:
Who you are (identity)
What you’re authorised to do (credentials)
Why people can trust you (ethics and integrity)
I found his framing particularly compelling. In the physical world, trust might be built through a handshake or eye contact.
However, in the digital realm, where borders are increasingly blurred, robust systems are necessary to verify and maintain trust, and these systems must be designed with ethical, human-centered principles at their core.
What’s more, Victor emphasised, these principles aren’t just local; they’re globally relevant.
Whether working in Mongolia, Singapore, or Australia, governments ultimately face the same challenge: adoption.
It’s not enough to create brilliant digital tools; if people don’t trust them, they won’t use them.
Of course, cultural nuances play a role. Victor observed, for example, that there’s naturally more trust in the government in Singapore compared to places like the United States, where scepticism runs deeper.
But across all jurisdictions, the fundamental truth remains: ethical, trustworthy digital leadership is non-negotiable. Without it, even the best technology will fail to deliver meaningful public impact.
What It Takes to Stand Firm When Values Are Tested
When I asked Victor whether there had been moments in his career when his values were truly tested, he didn’t hesitate.
He pointed straight to his work on cashless gaming reform, which was one of the most challenging and controversial issues he faced as a minister.
Victor was responsible for overseeing pubs and clubs, and with that came the enormous challenge of tackling problem gambling and money laundering through poker machines. “It’s a cancer on New South Wales,” he told me bluntly.
The industry, of course, didn’t welcome reform. They wanted to water it down, delay it, and resist change.
But Victor stood firm. Backed by advocates like Tim Costello, Wesley Mission, and the New South Wales Council of Social Services, what he called “all the angels,” he pushed forward with the cashless gaming solution, knowing it would better serve those most in need. It was tough.
The industry, he explained, wielded power across both sides of the political divide, much like the National Rifle Association in the United States.
Standing up to that machinery required not just political will, but personal conviction.
What fascinated me was how Victor’s leadership style supported his ability to hold the line.
He described himself as a servant leader who empowers his team, sets a clear vision, and trusts others to execute without micromanagement.
From that vantage point, he could see both the blue skies and the storm clouds, and it was his job to guide the way.
For Victor, true leadership isn’t about command and control; it’s about empowerment, trust, and service. He sees himself as a gift not to be served but to serve others.
And that mindset, he shared, was shaped early through his parents, his schooling, and his own lifelong commitment to humility.
Victor also spoke about authenticity: the importance of being yourself, owning your own story, and avoiding the trap of trying to project a polished, artificial image.
He openly shared that he was never a standout leader at school, not the captain of the football or debating teams, but when opportunities for leadership arose later in life, he took them graciously and wholeheartedly.
As Victor and I reflected on the traits of astute leadership, two stood out: having an open mind and being a respectful listener. “A leader who thinks they know everything knows nothing,” he told me.
And a leader who truly listens invites inclusion, respect, and growth.
Ultimately, Victor believes leadership isn’t about being loved.
It’s about making the tough calls, standing by your values, and doing so with respect, even when disagreements arise.
Because the bridges you preserve today may become the alliances you rely on tomorrow.
Leadership Lessons for the Next Generation
As our conversation drew to a close, I wanted to know who had shaped Victor’s remarkable journey.
Who were the mentors who guided, supported, and helped him become the leader he is today?
Without hesitation, Victor named Gladys Berejiklian. Gladys first encouraged Victor to enter politics, and her example of humble, hardworking, considerate leadership left a lasting imprint on him.
Victor spoke with deep admiration about the immense pressures Gladys faced, especially as Premier. “It’s the worst job,” he said frankly, describing how she juggled constant demands, endless complaints, and relentless political pressures.
And yet, even in the midst of that storm, Gladys would reach out not because she needed something but simply to check in on Victor.
“She’s just an incredible human being,” he reflected. From her time overseeing the notoriously difficult transport portfolio, to her ambitious metro projects, to her premiership, Gladys helped reshape not just Sydney, but all of New South Wales.
As we wrapped up, I felt grateful both for the conversation we’d shared and for the lessons Victor so generously offered.
His journey, after all, isn’t just about personal achievement. It’s a story of service, resilience, humility, and values-driven leadership.
It’s a roadmap for the next generation of leaders who will face their own storms, their own ethical crossroads, and their own opportunities to elevate the lives of others.
Victor’s passion, commitment, and wisdom remind us all that leadership is not about titles or accolades.
It’s about staying true to your purpose, lifting others up, and always, always keeping the human impact at the heart of what you do.