The heat and humidity here on Christmas Island is unrelentingly oppressive. Grey clouds hang damply over the mountain, making visibility poor and the roads treacherous.

It is not only the weather that is threatening here. The island's main business, the detention of asylum seekers, is sadly booming. The Immigration Detention Centre at North-West Point that was built for 400 people with a surge capacity of 800, now houses more than 1,500 asylum seekers with a further 500 held at other detention facilities on the island, quirkily known as Phosphate Hill and the Construction Camp.

The government denies the over-crowding, arguing that capacity has always been 'flexible'. Standing at Jack's Hill, overlooking the detention centre, this flexibility is evident by the presence of tents reminiscent of accommodation in refugee camps in the third world.

There are rising tensions in the flexibly expanding detention centre. Last week a fight erupted between detainees, now euphemistically known as clients. The change in rhetoric does not change reality. A few days ago a near fatal suicide attempt by a Sri Lankan man signalled a loss of hope after ten months in detention. His level of distress is not unusual among those who are experiencing long delays and no answers to their refugee claims.

The Prime Minister's announcement on Friday of a freeze on the processing of claims of new arrivals from the two largest groups on the island, Afghans and Sri Lankans, was a jolt. Already Sri Lankans and others sit for months in detention awaiting security clearances by an over-stretched ASIO. Long periods of detention create boredom, uncertainty and concern about their fate and that of family members left behind. For those undeterred by the new policy, the uncertainty and stress will magnify. We can only speculate that the increased presence of Australian Federal Police is a recognition that tensions may erupt into protest built on despair.

On the morning of the new policy announcement we sit in one of the few coffee shops on the island. The ABC radio news is in the background and locals, refugee advocates and off-duty detention workers congregate at the loud speaker expressing shock; each from their own perspectives.

We know from past experience that deterrence measures are unlikely to stop desperate people. What will this now mean for newly arrived boatpeople who will have nothing to do but wait and experience increasing despair and lack of hope? Who will help them with their stress, given the lack of mental health services and supportive visitors on the island? What will it mean for Christmas Islanders who are already experiencing strain on the island and who on Friday observed the federal police reinforcements unloading riot gear along the main road in full view of residents? And what of the over-worked and over-stressed detention staff who are trying to implement Labor's detention values of 2008, an ethos which is increasingly diminishing.

We overheard two young off duty detention guards air their frustration: 'Let Rudd come here and do a stint up here and see about his ideas then. Christmas Island is a stupid place for detention and it's just going to get worse'. Observing our eavesdropping they fell silent. But they are right.

Christmas Island is a stupid place for a detention centre and the policies are foolhardy. The guards seem to know that maintaining a safe detention environment will become harder as more people languish without a progressing of claims. From their outrage we guess that they anticipate more 'critical incidents' in their daily work such as fights, hunger strikes and self-harm as the federal police presence seems to indicate. We are at a loss for words when current immigration detainees ask us why the Afghans and Sri Lankans are singled out for punitive treatment.

Perhaps we're naive, but we're sure that if Australians could sit with any boatpeople and listen to their stories - of violence and loss, their grief at losing children in wars with seemingly no bounds, where all civilians are targets and life is precarious, could see the physical scars and injuries that confirm these tales are not fantasies - they would be as moved as we have been. Our leaders have an opportunity to lead. Instead of the constant rhetoric about border protection and fear of a few thousand people arriving on wooden boats, our politicians could talk to us about why people have left their homelands and draw out the compassion we are sure exists.

Good public policy should be beyond politics. In an election year the government is running scared and trying to appease community anxiety that is fuelled by the constant opposition criticism, which is regrettably gaining traction. What the government fails to acknowledge is that the current problems of overcrowding and isolation will now magnify. In our short time on the island we are observing and hearing how resources are stretched to the limit including health services, a fundamental human right.

The government is irrationally devoted to maintaining offshore processing for boat arrivals even thought it knows it causes immense harm to people, creates enormous expense for the tax-payer and is a serious blight on Australia's human rights record. Electoral fortunes should not rest with people's lives and the only just solution is to bring all asylum seekers to the mainland for fair and equitable processing while they live in the community.

It is an insult to the Australian public to presume that this will signify 'soft on border protection' policy. Surely we look to our politicians for leadership that is courageous, plausible and humane.

Lucy Fiske is a Lecturer at the Centre for Human Rights Education at Curtin University. Linda Briskman is Professor of Human Rights Education at Curtin University.