Guy Beres

Despite the resumption of parliament, political debate has been muted this week; with the news dominated by a few unfortunate seconds of video footage of a Macquarie Bank worker and a legal case featuring one (or is that two?) of Australia’s favourite national songs. Such is the flippant, transitory and ultimately tabloid nature of modern news.

One intervention into the headlines worthy of debate was made by Shadow Finance Minister Barnaby Joyce. Appearing at the National Press Club for the first time as a seriously senior member of the Opposition, Joyce delivered a performance that undoubtedly left Liberal Party members across the country scratching their heads and squirming in their seats. Michelle Grattan reports on Joyce’s most questionable comments in The Age:

”We are giving $150 million to the World Bank. Fair enough. $50 million of that is to deal with the food inflationary aspects in the Third World. Well, why doesn’t Kevin Rudd deal with the food inflationary aspects in this world, you know? That would be handy,” he said.

…
Senator Joyce said: ”We’ve got to be cautious when we’re borrowing money from overseas to send back to overseas … because we’ve got to pay the money back.”

Putting our Macquarie Bank staffer to shame, in a matter of seconds, Tony Abbott’s right-hand man dropped a whole swag full of clunkers right there. For starters – Joyce’s rant rode roughshod over official Coalition policy on foreign aid, forcing the Opposition Leader and his Deputy to issue terse “corrections” on his behalf. It also raised serious questions about his ability to be the senior spokesperson for such a broad, sensitive policy portfolio. To compare the problems that Australia has with access to food to the problems that countries in the Third World have with access to food is quite simply, outrageous. That Joyce saw fit to raise the prospect of abandoning or reducing Australia’s small obligations to the international needy smacks of narrow, parochial self-interest, reflecting quite poorly indeed upon his character.

The Shadow Finance Minister’s financial credentials also warrant some serious questioning. Particularly in the wake of the financial crisis experienced over the last couple of years, national governments across the world have surged into debt. Some national governments are worse off than others, but what is readily apparent is that Australia’s net financial position, considering our projected ability to repay outstanding debt, is superior to just about any other nation out there. It is not strange, wrong or inadvisable for Australia to be in debt; certainly not any more the case than it is for Harvey Norman or Woolworths to borrow money, or for you or I to take out a mortgage to purchase property, at home or abroad.

Joyce seems to be suggesting that it may be inadvisable to borrow money “overseas” if the money is to be spent “overseas”, ostensibly on people who are not Australians. What sort of short-sighted, hermit kingdom mentality does that betray? What miniscule price does Joyce put on the lives of people that Australia’s aid assists, let alone Australia’s international reputation and renown as the land of the “fair go”?

Frankly, it was a Sarah Palin-esque moment, with a dash of Pauline on the side. As this year’s federal election looms large, Tony Abbott is likely going to come to rue the day that he decided that he wanted Barnaby Joyce to serve as one of his right-hand men. If, as Palin famously suggested, she can see Russia from Alaska, then this week’s events have proven (for any still in doubt) that Barnaby Joyce can really, truly, indubitably see the Third World from rural Queensland.

Evidently, if Australia is in debt, it can all rot.

ELSEWHERE: It’s hard to go past Damien Kingsbury’s surgical dissection of Joyce’s folly folly, also in The Age. To summarise:

Without any prompting, Joyce appears to have wandered off into policy whacko-land.

The newly launched MySchool website looks set to prompt a lot of interest, speculation, and controversy. Per-school indicators such as the number of enrolments, the number of teachers, the number of indigenous students, together with comparative reading, writing, spelling, grammar and numeracy rankings, are all available online to anybody interested. Although the website does not explicitly present the information in a “league table” format, the government may as well have done so. The major newspapers have wasted no time scraping data down from the website and compiling their own league tables [PDF].

Although there are still some question marks around the reliability and fairness of the data presented in some cases, the commotion seems to be centred on a few broad but intriguing conclusions:

1) Selective public schools are outperforming even the best private schools.

2) In some communities, local public schools are considerably outperformed by local private schools.

3) In some communities, local private schools are considerably outperformed by or performing equivalently to local public schools.

The first and third conclusions raise some interesting conundrums for families about the real worth of private schools (particularly when one factors in the often expensive fees payable). The second conclusion will certainly result in some pressure being brought to bear on some public schools whose students are struggling. It’s a bit of a mixed bag, with some teachers and school officials no doubt feeling boosted by the release of the results, and others feeling somewhat deflated and betrayed. I’ve been on the fence on this issue a bit in the past, but I think on the whole that allowing this information to be publicly available is a step in the right direction. Parents, whose taxes fund both public and private schools, have a right to know if students in their local schools are performing poorly. They have a right to know (for example) if the attendance rate in little Jimmy’s school is markedly below the national average, or to know that kids in little Jane’s school seem to be rubbish spellers, by and large. School administrators will clearly need to begin explaining the performance of their school and working harder to address issues that the data suggests exist.

The value of the website seems set to increase further in the future as more data sets becomes available (allowing parents and the general public to see whether their local schools are improving or not), and more comparative indicators, such as financial information (promised for later this year). It will be particularly interesting to learn which schools appear to be doing the most for their students with least, and which schools in particular should be receiving much more funding than they are receiving under the current schools funding formula, preserved by Labor from the Howard Government years.

The Rudd Government’s “Education Revolution” has been underwhelming so far, but there is certainly at least a faint scent of progress in the air thanks to the launch of this simple little website.

He came. He saw. He kissed some kids and made some clucky old dames blush. He went home.

Apart from the predictable lashings of sound and colour emanating from our (mostly tabloid) press and current affairs programs over the last few days, there have also been a few rumblings about the lately neutered republican debate in Australia in the wake of Prince William’s brief visit. Earlier this week, Julia Gillard re-iterated the Rudd Government’s new, contradictory approach to the republic; supporting the change in principle, but curiously declining to nominate when it would put the matter to a referendum once again. The government admittedly has a lot on its plate, but there is only so long it can promise change while doggedly refusing to instigate it.

Even Malcolm Turnbull, arch-republican in chief, in a piece for The Times Online, has admitted that Australia’s shift towards a republic is now being guided primarily by the Queen’s mortality:

Changing the Constitution is extremely difficult and that is why I believe that the next republic referendum has the best chance of success after the Queen’s reign. That moment will be an historic and political watershed.

What is deeply ironic is the general view on this troublesome debate of ours from Prince William’s grey shores, exemplified by this contribution from Stephen Bates in The Guardian. Many in the United Kingdom view the monarchy as anachronistic and somewhat redundant, and in the trying economic times that we still find ourselves in, a drain on the public purse that is difficult to justify. To be perfectly blunt, the very concept of a monarchy – even an essentially symbolic one – is a throwback to a bygone era when blood trumped merit. It is antithetical to the Australian ethos.

Generally, British people just don’t seem to comprehend why Australia is holding itself back from declaring itself a republic, from finally cutting itself loose officially from its mother’s teat. The British are intimately familiar with the fierce love that Australians have for their country, their sense of superiority (particularly on the sporting field). This chest-thumping pride in the greatness of Australia is contradicted by the frustrating vacillation that has swallowed up the republican debate.

Do we live in such a timid and uncertain nation that we must wait for a lovely old lady on the other side of the world to die before we can chart a course for ourselves? It certainly appears so.

The Attorney-General’s Department is currently undertaking a public consultation process in relation to the lack of an R18+ classification rating for computer games. A discussion paper [PDF] has been released, and the government is also inviting public submissions until 28th February 2010. Unfortunately in some ways it would seem the government is conducting more of a survey than an public consultation; the submission template provided provides for a series of multiple choice questions, with limited scope provided for people to actually tell the government what they think about the issue and why.

It is nevertheless a good thing that the government is undertaking the consultation process; in my view, the lack of an R18+ classification rating for computer games does not make much sense. Currently, if a game is classified by the National Classification Board as R18+, it is refused classification and effectively banned from the country. In this situation, game developers are either forced not to release their product in Australia, or to revise the product so that it is receives an MA15+ classification. Someone who wishes to purchase the game is forced to (illegally) purchase the game online or to obtain a pirated version, with neither outcome being particularly favorable for the local software industry.

The substance of my submission to the consultation is over the fold.

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Lupins aplenty




Lake Tekapo, sunset




Mount Cook (Aoraki), New Zealand’s highest peak




Lake Wanaka, New Years Day




Leaving Milford Sound for Te Anau, a journey Ian McKellen has probably justifiably described as ‘the most beautiful drive in the world’.

Damn - can’t believe Christmas and the end of another year is upon us already! As you may have already guessed, my already fairly itinerant blogging pipeline has been clogged by numerous other life-type things for the past few weeks. This situation will indeed continue into about mid-January, after which point I will return from a jaunt around New Zealand’s South Island and (presumably) much holiday season merry-making.

2010 promises to be a very interesting and challenging year for the broader left. The Obama Administration, if it hasn’t already, is about to hit the big, hard, cold brick wall of reality in a nation dominated by conservative politics. The Rudd Government has a challenge on its hands convincing the electorate that it has lived up to people’s expectations in an election year, and actually delivered on a reasonable proportion of its promises. It is a nice change for a government to be so supremely consultative, but people want more than a chance to have their say; they want to see runs on the board. Federal Labor also has an interesting and potentially dangerous new adversary to deal with in the form of Tony Abbott, Barnaby Joyce, and their brand of backwards-brained populism.

Personally, I can’t wait to see what happens. Best wishes to all - read you next year!

As a Labor supporter, perhaps not entirely surprisingly, I prefer Malcolm Turnbull to Tony Abbott as the leader of the Federal Opposition. This is not just because Turnbull agrees with the Labor Party on climate change, and it’s certainly not because Malcolm Turnbull laid bare the ideological chasm between the liberal and conservative wings of his party - a divided and ineffective opposition is in nobody’s interests. However Turnbull, at least on some issues (e.g. climate change, the republic), offered the electorate a glimmer of hope that concrete bipartisan progress was not impossible, and that the nation is capable of moving beyond the one-eyed partisan bickering that characterises our political system, even if just for a moment or two. Turnbull showed promising signs of understanding that the job of an Opposition is not always to oppose; it is to present an alternative vision for the nation and to back that vision up with policy. Sometimes it is better to be constructive. This is a lesson that Kevin Rudd adopted in Opposition to mighty effect, cherry-picking policy from the government whilst magnifying points of differentiation in other areas. Abbott, in contrast, appears to be set on the “oppose for opposition’s sake” approach. Perhaps he should have a bit of a chat to his mate Peter Debnam on that topic.

Despite all this, I am still a bit shocked at how Malcolm Turnbull has behaved since he was defeated in the leadership ballot last week. Immediately after the ballot, Turnbull asserted the following, as Ben Packham reports in the Herald Sun:

“I am not going to run a commentary on Tony Abbott. Lots of people ran commentaries on me when I was leader but I’m going to be more measured in my backbench remarks,” Mr Turnbull said yesterday.

I guess it all depends on what one considers “more measured” to mean, but a week has been proven once again to be a very long time in politics. Today, less than a week after those remarks, Turnbull posted a strident attack on his leader’s position on climate change on his blog, which quite frankly has to be read to be believed:

While a shadow minister, Tony Abbott was never afraid of speaking bluntly in a manner that was at odds with Coalition policy.

So as I am a humble backbencher I am sure he won’t complain if I tell a few home truths about the farce that the Coalition’s policy, or lack of policy, on climate change has descended into.

First, let’s get this straight. You cannot cut emissions without a cost. To replace dirty coal fired power stations with cleaner gas fired ones, or renewables like wind let alone nuclear power or even coal fired power with carbon capture and storage is all going to cost money.

To get farmers to change the way they manage their land, or plant trees and vegetation all costs money.
Somebody has to pay.
So any suggestion that you can dramatically cut emissions without any cost is, to use a favourite term of Mr Abbott, “bullshit.” Moreover he knows it.

If Turnbull continues to undermine Abbott’s position in this way, it will lay waste to the Liberal Party. This is, make no mistake, a running commentary on Tony Abbott’s leadership qualities, and it is a commentary that promises to continue well into the New Year. Abbott is already going to find it frightfully difficult to produce a policy on climate change that reduces emissions without significant costs. Even if a so-called “magic pudding” policy is found, it’s hard to imagine it being a dessert that the divided Coalition caucus is going to be happy to eat (insert “just desserts” pun here).

Seriously, how is the Coalition going to be a competitive force if its spurned leader – a media darling - feels able to fearlessly criticise his party’s policies in this way? It is, simply put, unsustainable.

In considering how events have played out with respect to the leadership of the Liberal Party, a certain image springs to mind for me. For just a moment, picture the federal party-room of the Liberal Party in your mind’s eye as an elaborate, archaic, steampunk-ish contraption giving off heat and billowing steam, emitting all manner of clanking and wheezing sounds. There’s brass, there’s rust, there’s lint, there’s probably even some asbestos in there somewhere. It is an engine that has survived beyond its time and in some dubious way evolved, with strange, artificial improvements bolted higgledy-piggledy around the exterior. If you squint you might just make out what appears suspiciously to be microchips “growing” under a moist alcove, or what could well be a miniature LED screen replaying the tumultuous events of the last week or so over and over again, on silent repeat. Needless to say, despite the odd snatch of modern bling, this is a machine that doesn’t hum like your new home computer; it sounds kinda like a Datsun that hasn’t been serviced since 1982.

This curious machine has taken all the ingredients generated by the ructions of the last week and spat out a response to the leadership question, but it is the wrong response. A 42-41 decision is hardly a decision, particularly given that three likely Hockey/Turnbull supporters could not vote (Kelly O’Dwyer, Paul Fletcher, Fran Bailey). It doesn’t seem to be the response a majority of the party-room actually wanted. It doesn’t seem to be the response the eventual victor expected. It is, practically speaking, an non-sensical result. I am not sure that it really matters if the Liberal Party primarily blames Turnbull’s virtuoso but unconsultative approach to the CPRS for what they have now, or Hockey’s bizarrely principled vacillation on the precipice of his triumph. Oddly enough, both men proved their mettle and that they were worthy leaders since late last week, but still failed. What matters in the wash-up is that the moderate, liberal arm of the Liberal Party was holding all the cards over the conservatives and indeed had done so for most of the period since November 2007, but in a collective brainfart of truly epic proportions, they’ve managed to trade in all their aces for zippo, in one fell swoop.

The climate change issue has proven to be the most sublime wedge issue imaginable for the Rudd Government. Numbers-wise, the Coalition has been riven effectively right down the centre by the government’s CPRS, with the liberals and conservatives who played so nicely together during the Howard years now at each other’s throats. The marriage of convenience that holds the Coalition together has been ruthlessly exposed by the government as the shemozzle it really is. There is no effective consensus position for the Liberal Party on climate change, and no successful leader to call the shots first and sticky-tape the party together later, like there was during the Howard Government years. Dennis Glover does a fine job in today’s The Australian of spelling out why this issue so lethal for the Coalition, and why the Abbott Opposition needs to work out a credible position on climate change, and fast:

The evening news reports of the retreat of Greenland’s ice caps and the advance of solar power projects across the deserts of California will have far greater electoral effect than any theories Nick Minchin or Andrew Bolt try to sell on Lateline or Insiders.

Even cautious politicians such as Kevin Rudd are helping voters join the dots when the temperature gets above 40C.

For the coming months, a few predictions. I am extremely doubtful that we will see a double dissolution election. The Prime Minister, already sensing he has been gifted the upper hand by the Coalition’s bungling and the public’s goodwill, will not risk the ire of the electorate by pushing for an early climate change election. The Nationals and the Minchinites, having surprisingly emerged victorious with their candidate, are now perhaps just a little unsettled. Their “Anybody But Turnbull” approach has yielded the cut-through candidate that most gels with their own political philosophy, but has arguably as much capacity to polarise the electorate as anyone in the party. I sincerely doubt the Liberal Party pollsters are thrilled by the collected wisdom of the party-room. The first “post-spill” polls that emerge will be very interesting.

The moderates within the Liberal Party, having fielded two not unpopular candidates in the spill but still managed to lose, are now too enfeebled to challenge the leadership result or pursue the matter further. They will not speak up in support of the government’s CPRS. They will have to grit their teeth and mumble the Howard-era lines that they don’t actually believe in until the leadership changes again. Some may even decide to walk away from the party at the 2011 election. The rest of them will be hoping, of course, that their junk-tech party-room machine can, with a hiss and a puff of brackish smoke, spit out the right candidate for a modern Liberal Party the next time that the opportunity presents.

Which, in all likelihood, will be after Tony Abbott loses the next election.

So I was walking maniacally down Flinders Street today, heading east between St. Paul’s Cathedral and Federation Square, when I was stopped by a middle-aged Asian lady coming out of St. Paul’s onto the street. Looking somewhat confused and brandishing a map, she gestured to it blankly and asked me where Federation Square was. I paused briefly, before pointing to the earth and metal-tessellated structure directly opposite us, not twenty metres away. “That’s it,” I said. “If you walk around [gesturing to the corner of Swanston and Flinders) to the middle, there’s sort of a square there”. The expression of confusion on the woman’s face changed, but did not reduce. She thanked me, and I continued on my merry maniacal way, pondering the imminent destruction of the Turnbull Opposition.

This is just a silly anecdote, of course, but in a week when Federation Square was dubbed one of the world’s ten ugliest buildings, it seems to me to be just a little prescient. First: a disclaimer. While I have lived in Melbourne for almost a year now, I am still first and foremost a Sydneysider. Melbournians should probably digest anything I have to say with a grain of salt.

Let me just say to start that I think there’s actually quite a bit to like about Fed Square. I like its nooks and crannies and somewhat hidden places, and the clash of textures and colours (and cultures?) the building embodies. The earthiness of the space, I think, speaks to our nation’s natural geography. It is a structure that really does try to be of Australia, rather than simply on Australia, as so many of the other corporate-driven structures in our cities are. When there are events on in the square (such as the Homeless World Cup or even live games during the Australian Open tennis), the place really does come alive, teeming with people enjoying the environment.

The problem with Federation Square starts to become apparent when there aren’t any events on. During the day or even the early evening, the space billed as “Melbourne’s meeting place” often resembles a ghost town. One almost expects tumbleweeds to start rolling slowly down through the square towards Flinders Street station. The central square is flanked by several solid but relatively unremarkable eateries, and a number of low-key museums. ACMI does host the odd interesting exhibition or screening, but hasn’t managed to endear itself to me yet. The NGV Ian Potter Centre is certainly worth a visit, but is so tucked away inside the building’s innards that I imagine a lot of people don’t even know it is there. And the Racing Museum? Come on!!!

Which takes me back to my initial anecdote: Federation Square is not yet the icon I think we would all like it to be, and it deserves to be. It is certain that the lady from the anecdote would not, if twenty metres away from the Sydney Opera House or Sydney Harbour Bridge, be asking people where these things were. These structures, along with Sydney Harbour itself, are true icons. Federation Square, in contrast, lies somewhere on the unremarkable, unattractive side of amazing. One wonders how many tourists wander through its left-field spaces and wander out again ten to fifteen minutes later, wondering what the big fuss was all about. Perhaps this is something that time, further investment, and momentous events will change, but for the time being at least, there still seems to be something missing from the puzzle.

ELSEWHERE: Sydney’s plans for a central public square opposite the Town Hall continue to lumber along. This much can be said about Melbourne – at least Melbourne has a halfway decent public square!

Late last month, I gave some serious consideration to participating in Movember. I eventually decided against it, in part because my current residence in Melbourne meant that my circle of friends probably would not get as much humour (and perhaps by association, generate quite as many donations) out of my moustache-growing efforts. Perhaps next year. There can be little doubt that the organisers have done a terrific job in raising the public profile of men’s health in aid of beyondblue and the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia. If you move within any social circles at all, you’re practically certain of knowing someone who is growing a mo this month, in aid of these two very worthy organisations.

Apart from the questionable implications for GMA (Gross Male Attractiveness), it’s hard to see how one can find fault with events like Movember, but Tim Soutphommasane presents an interesting critique in today’s Australian. The average modern charity event seems generally to revolve around a symbolic token of some sort, whether it be a pink (or white, or…) ribbon, a poppy, a red nose, a pair of jeans or indeed a ragged patch of hair on one’s upper lip. One generally wears these symbols with just a touch of conspicuous pride; I’ve done my little bit, see look at this symbol right here.

Soutphommasane does probably get a bit too broad in scope with his column for my liking, but the snippet below captures the essence of what I think is quite an important observation:

Support women’s health? Sport a pink ribbon. Support action on climate change? Turn off your lights at home for an hour. Support recycling? You were in luck last week, which just happened to be National Recycling Week.

…

For all that moral grandstanding makes us feel virtuous, it in fact makes civic virtue rather more elusive. If only good citizenship were as easy as growing a moustache or wearing a pink ribbon.

We are all aware today that public identification with our democracy, as measured by involvement with political parties and our level of respect for politicians, is perhaps at an all-time low. On the other hand, it does appear that token-oriented charitable “days” or events could well be at an all-time high today, at least in terms of frequency. Given the current situation with our democracy, shouldn’t we be concerned that we may be tricking ourselves into feeling that we are “doing our little bit” for society by growing facial hair, and buying ribbons and poppies and red noses, instead of involving ourselves in more seriously in public/civic life, or making more substantive sacrifices for the occasional good cause?

I’m not trying to be a killjoy. These causes all do a great job in terms of raising awareness and money for important causes: this cannot be denied. I think we probably all need to be reminded, however, that being a truly good citizen – a good Australian – should require that we do much more than cover our lapel with conspicuous (but cheap, and labour unintensive) tokens of our virtue. On the scale of worthy patriotic acts, buying a token in aid of charity is, let’s face it, a worthy, but modest, tick in a box. Contrastingly, some of our forebears and a sprinkling of modern champions have moved or are moving mountains for this country, or at the very least, trying to make a real difference. Whilst not forgetting for a moment our current servicemen and women, millions of our forebears bore arms in defence of and in solidarity with our country last century. In the 21st century, we tend to buy trinkets for our country; oh, and rock up to vote periodically.

So, why aren’t we all striving to do better?