Australias new job classification system, OSCA, replaces ANZSCO with little fanfare. Its streamlined approach raises questions about workforce planning, transparency, and the evolving definition of work.

Governments have long classified jobs to track employment trends, inform workforce planning, and shape policy decisions. A well-structured system helps determine migration eligibility, identify skills shortages, and guide education and training initiatives. Some nations manage this process with efficiency, while others struggle with cumbersome, bureaucratic frameworks. The challenge is always the same striking a balance between comprehensiveness and usability. The US, for example, takes an exhaustive approach, resulting in an information-rich, but unwieldy system. Australia, too, has made multiple attempts to refine its classification process, with the latest iteration, Occupation Standard Classification for Australia,replacing ANZSCO in an effort to modernise how work is defined.

Occupational therapists classify occupations into categories such as productivity, self-care, or leisure, and within my field, it is the occupation of work that is my focus. But outside my field, classifying occupations is only about economic work. And with OSCA, that definition is shifting once again. For those of us who analyse work, this new system is more than an administrative tool; it shapes policies, influences migration, and dictates who is included or excluded from the economy.

Despite its significance, OSCAs launch in December 2024 barely caused a ripple. Unlike ANZSCO, which I recall underwent extensive post-implementation consultation, OSCA arrived with little fanfare. For a system that underpins so many aspects of government decision-making, the lack of public discussion is striking. Change is necessary, but when that change is introduced quietly, it raises questions about transparency and the potential for unintended consequences.

One of OSCAs biggest shifts is its uncoupling from New Zealands occupational classification system, a move that will likely complicate Trans-Tasman recognition and workforce mobility between the two nations. While Australias decision to go it alone allows for more tailored classifications, it also risks inconsistency in workforce planning. OSCA promises to be more dynamic and skills-focused, designed to keep pace with evolving job markets. But will a streamlined system sacrifice the detail required for meaningful workforce analysis? If OSCA is too simplistic, it could obscure important distinctions between roles, leading to misinformed policy decisions and unintended economic distortions.

Public policy is often littered with unintended consequences, and OSCA will likely be no exception. In the past, cock-up rather than conspiracy was always the preferred explanation. But since the Robodebt scandal, this can longer be the default. The idea that policy blunders stem from simple oversight no longer holds the same weight. Now, every decision is scrutinised for hidden agendas and cost-cutting motives. OSCA raises questions about what we choose to count as work. Work for the Dole participants, for example, are excluded from employment statistics, while monks receiving in-kind payment are included. The new inclusion of sex work and social media influencing as legitimate jobs further shapes how society perceives labour while volunteers and unpaid workers remain invisible in official labour market data.

Workforce forecasting is another area where OSCAs impact could be profound. Occupational classification helps governments predict employment trends and identify skills shortages, influencing university enrolments and skilled migration policies. If OSCA lacks the necessary nuance, it could skew workforce planning, exacerbating imbalances rather than correcting them. Some occupations have already been retired or merged, potentially erasing important distinctions that were once used to inform economic and training policies. Simplification might make data collection easier, but at what cost to precision?

Theres also the question of how OSCA was built. The use of artificial intelligence specifically ChatGPT to draft occupational descriptions represents a new era in public data management. AI can increase efficiency and cut costs, but it also raises concerns about automation errors and the need for human oversight. If AI is shaping how jobs are classified, who is ensuring accuracy and objectivity? Transparency about how these tools are deployed is critical, particularly when they influence policies that affect millions of workers. It also begs the question, if ChatGPT was used, why was the prompt prepare a communication plan for OSCAs launch not added?

OSCA represents a shift in how Australia classifies work. It aspires to be more adaptable and responsive, but its success will depend on execution. Without greater transparency, engagement, and safeguards against unintended consequences, it risks creating as many problems as it solves. For those of us who study work not just as an economic activity, but as a core human function occupational classification is more than a bureaucratic tool. It reflects how society values different forms of labour. The real test for OSCA will be whether it can evolve alongside the workforce it aims to define.