It wasn’t until Charlotte’s father passed away that she discovered he had altered his will, leaving his entire estate to one of her three siblings. “This is crazy,” she recalls thinking in the days that followed. “Why wouldn’t we get anything? This just makes no sense.” Charlotte and her two siblings contested the will; mediation failed, and they eventually settled out of court, receiving only a minority portion of the estate. The siblings have not spoken to the favored sibling since.
Charlotte, in her late 50s, divorced and without property, found herself grappling not only with financial insecurity but also with the challenge of redefining her relationship with her late father. “What value did we have, and what responsibility did he have towards us?” she questions. “You find yourself going over old letters and rummaging through the past, trying to create meaning.”
Growing Complexity of Inheritance Disputes
Few areas of law are as incendiary and emotionally charged as succession. Disputes over wills are notoriously unpredictable in court. Yet, even in this discretionary and rapidly evolving legal landscape, new patterns are emerging. The silent generation and baby boomers hold a staggering $5.4 trillion in assets, which will transition to their descendants over the next two decades. This “great wealth transfer” is underway, fueled by a population nearing life expectancy and burdened with property and superannuation wealth. The increasing prevalence of blended and non-nuclear families further complicates matters, leading to more frequent disputes over wills.
Data from the New South Wales Supreme Court reveals a significant rise in court-annexed mediations in succession and probate cases, from 104 in 2021 to 735 in 2025. Filings in these cases have also increased from 1,168 to 1,467 over the same period. While most wills transition smoothly, it’s the contentious cases that capture the attention of experts like Prue Vines, a University of New South Wales law professor specializing in succession.
“There can be absolutely horrendous family disputes, and they’re always awful when you see them – but, of course, that’s what we see,” says Vines.
The Impact of Economic Factors
In 2024, JBWere reported that Australians receive an average inheritance of $706,806, typically between the ages of 55 and 59, according to the Productivity Commission. Such windfalls can offer a path to home ownership and financial security in a society where wealth is increasingly concentrated. The reliance on parental wealth, both before and after death, is becoming more pronounced.
This phenomenon is what Adeline Schiralli, special counsel at Southern Waters Legal and a specialist in wills and estates, describes as “inheritance impatience.” She notes that this impatience transcends socioeconomic groups. “I’ve seen very, very small estates where there have been disputes,” she says. “It’s more about the circumstances of the individuals bringing the claims.”
“We’ve set up a society whereby money matters so much, a house matters so much, that you can’t see others’ needs,” Charlotte reflects. “It just purely, simply comes down to greed for me.”
Legal and Social Dynamics
Mary-Ann de Mestre, a convener of succession law at Macquarie University and founder of M de Mestre Lawyers, describes the current situation as “a perfect storm where everyone is trying a different way to get their inheritance.” She cites an ageing population, complex estate structures, and cost-of-living pressures as contributing factors to the rise in disputes.
Remarriages and non-nuclear families are challenging traditional notions of dependence and lineage. Additionally, the ageing process can bring about dementia, leading to disputes over the mental capacity of the testate. Technology is also introducing new complexities, with text messages and digital notes being submitted as evidence of a deceased person’s intentions. The burgeoning online industry of AI-generated wills further complicates matters, as these tools cannot fully assess an individual’s mental capacity and independence when formalizing their last wishes.
At De Mestre’s practice in Sydney’s northern beaches, clients are increasingly engaging in “pre-planning” and “post-planning” to organize their estates before and after death. Here, death is seen less as an ending and more as a point on a timeline, with money having an afterlife.
Legal Repercussions and Mediation
De Mestre has observed a rise in cases involving promissory estoppel, where informal promises are relied upon after death. “I was promised the business and it’s now going to everyone,” is a common scenario. The court’s role is to supervise fairness, balancing testamentary freedom with moral responsibility.
Family provision legislation, initially designed to protect widows and children, has expanded. South Australia now recognizes stepchildren as eligible applicants. De Mestre notes an increase in claims from stepchildren, adult children, and second partners who feel unfairly treated. “What originally was your will and your wishes is now open slather, almost,” she says.
To deter unreasonable claims, there are now repercussions for filing family provision cases without reasonable prospects. These include findings that estates will not always cover legal costs and the introduction of cost-capping. Mediation is mandatory in family provision cases in NSW.
“A recurring theme is surprise,” De Mestre says. “People are often shocked to discover that a will is not the final word, it is frequently just the opening move.”
The Human Element in Legal Battles
For many families, the aftermath of a will can lead to breakdowns that never reach a solicitor’s office. Frankie, for example, severed ties with her sister after their mother’s decision to allocate 75% of her $20,000 estate to her sister. It wasn’t about the money, but rather the mishandling of their mother’s wishes that caused the rift.
“Everything went to hell in a handbasket because my mum didn’t want to pay for legal advice,” Frankie says. “It was horrific.”
Vines has repeatedly seen siblings make impulsive decisions in the heat of the moment, driven by old rivalries. “All of their sibling rivalry, from when they were two, three, five, 10, 25 – all of that floods out,” she says. “So they’d go into litigation and, next thing, the whole family is destroyed.”
Vines suggests that allowing relatives to witness a meeting between a probate judge and disputing parties before a hearing could prevent some conflicts. She recalls a case where a judge asked the counsel to outline the costs, which amounted to $90,000 for a three-day hearing. While not popular among barristers, this approach led to a high settlement rate.
Open discussions about inheritance before death may help prevent disputes, but as Vines notes, “you’re never going to fix really super dysfunctional families.” Perhaps the best approach is to clarify expectations, intentions, and the value of relationships while alive. Grudges may be taken to the grave, but it’s the living who must deal with their fallout.
Rachel and her two sisters anticipated a potential family conflict when their mother, in her 90s, considered cutting her only son out of her will. Although the extra money would have benefited Rachel’s family, the emotional cost was too high. “We thought it was unfair,” Rachel says. “He’d be devastated, he didn’t really understand the depth of what she felt about him. She’d be gone and the living would have to deal with the consequences.”
Their mother eventually abandoned the idea. “We will never tell him. He would be really, really, really upset. Writing one of your children out of your will is really difficult – the message it sends is horrendous.”
