Federation. Is. Broken. Surely?

Why don’t we celebrate the Australian Federation? Logically, it would make more sense to mark the formation of the Commonwealth of Australia (January 1, 1901), rather than the highly contentious Australia Day (January 26). The former offers the notion of nationhood and a sense of progress; the latter is tainted with invasion and colonization.

Part of the problem is that we don’t really believe in the Federation (or more likely, we don’t understand or know enough about it). Queensland and New South Wales were initially cold to lukewarm about joining the Federation, and Western Australia only came around once the Constitution Act was passed in 1900. (There’s even a argument to suggest that New Zealand may have joined the Federation before or instead of Western Australia, but I’ll leave that to the historians.)

More significant is the fact that the past two years have revealed considerable cracks in the Federation. States have been taking very different approaches to the current pandemic, with both Western Australia and Queensland at times acting as if they had already seceded. We’ve seen huge inconsistencies in how each State and Territory has responded to Covid – there was little to no national consensus on defining “hot spots”, “red zones”, “clusters”, “complex cases”, “mystery cases” or “close contact”. The respective public health measures and administrative responses were also very different, leading to confusion, frustration and anger over external and internal border controls, hotel quarantine, home isolation, track’n’trace, density limits, social distancing and vaccine roll-out. Overlay that with cack-handed management by the Commonwealth itself, and it’s easy to see why many people feel no love for Federation.

The former Premier of NSW let the cat out of the bag when she referred to “our New South Wales citizens”. Last time I looked, Australian citizenship is conferred at the Federal level, not by individual States or Territories. This Freudian slip just confirms the many fault lines that exist as between the Commonwealth and the States, and as between the States themselves. About the only thing that unites Australians is when a national sports team is competing at international level…

In fact, there are many areas of public policy, administration and infrastructure where the States and Territories adopt different standards and models – for example, we don’t yet have a fully integrated national energy grid, daylight savings results in five different time zones during summer (as opposed to the three during winter), and there are differences in parliamentary structures (bicameral vs unicameral) and election cycles.

The issue of Federation is also fraught from a financial and budgetary perspective. States and Territories have limited options for raising their own revenue, namely payroll tax, land tax, stamp duty and licenses. While they can generate revenue from commercial ventures such as public-private infrastructure projects (and from mining and resources royalties), the bulk of their funding comes from the distribution of Federal income tax and GST (sales tax). (Or they borrow in the public debt markets.) And of course, there is always some aggro on these allocations at COAG meetings (now known as National Cabinet….).

It might also be the case that just as we have too many professional football codes (none of which are truly “national”), we have too many layers of government for a population of just 25 million people (Federal, State, Local). Given that Local Government is not actually provided for in the Constitution, and given the antagonism between States, perhaps there is a case to be made for change. Most people live within a few coastal conurbations. Moreover, many people identify closely with their city, region or rural locality, even more so than their State. Think of border twin towns such as Albury-Wodonga on the River Murray and Tweed Heads-Coolangata on the East Coast. So, why not abolish the States and Territories (as well as dismantling the current local government structure), and instead establish functional municipal, regional and rural governments that are more representative of their local communities, and which are charged with distributing resources and coordinating public services on behalf of the Commonwealth (especially in the areas of health, education, welfare and transport).

One thing is certain: Australia needs to sort out the Constitution before it can re-visit the idea of becoming a Republic. Apart from the issue of a Treaty for indigenous recognition and native title land rights (and resolving the anomaly that is Local Government), the structure of our political institutions also needs reforming. Having Federal elections every three years reinforces short-term policies. Consider also the negative impact the current state of the party political system has on the quality of policy debate and implementation. Look also at the wonky versions of proportional representation we have in the form of single transferable votes and dodgy preference deals, plus Senate party slates and “Captain’s picks”.

This all means that even though we may think we are voting for individual candidates to represent our interests in Parliament, we are in fact voting for party machines. Those party structures are rife with factional warfare, internecine disputes, branch stacking and shady backroom deals – hence, we don’t directly vote for the Prime Minister (who can be rolled by their own parties, as we know to our cost), and we can’t hold our constituent representatives accountable except at the next Federal election.

Even if we acknowledge that we are voting for a candidate based on their stated party allegiance, there is no guarantee that they will vote (or even stay) with that party, so we don’t get the representation we voted for. Add to the mix the continued problems with party donations, campaign funding, Parliamentary lobbying and electoral pork barrelling, and it’s no wonder we have given up on the party political system and have lost all respect for our elected representatives and their party leaders. Plus, the perpetual rent-seeking from entrenched vested interests (coupled with monopolistic institutions and cozy industry duopolies) means there is inertia in favour of this status quo.

The proposed model for a Republic seems to be predicated on having a President as the Head of State (to replace the British monarch and their local representative in the form of the Governor-General). Beyond that there seems to be little agreement on how the the President will be appointed, or what Constitutional and/or political powers will be vested in them. Recent proposals for a nomination and election process have been met with both support and opposition from former Prime Ministers. But until we define what role the President will perform, we can’t begin to think about the process for their elevation to the position.

For example, is the Presidency going to be a mere figurehead, with no decision-making authority apart from confirming the Will of Parliament? Should the President be directly elected via universal suffrage, under a single, popular vote and “first past the post” method (rather than via a fudged proportional representation model? If we have an electoral college system (as in the USA), who gets to participate, how are they appointed and how do they get to cast their votes? How long should the President hold office? Is the Office of President designed to “keep the bastards honest” in Parliament, or to intervene when the Parliamentary party system breaks down, or to sue the Commonwealth on behalf of affected citizens when the Constitution is breached? Will the President have any role in forming public policy, or negotiating international treaties? Or will the President be voted in under a popularity contest, and as a reward for past public service, kind of like a plebiscite for Australian of the Year?

Another thing may also be certain: the timing (and likelihood) of Australia becoming a Republic will depend on the politicians of the day, how they advocate for it, and the model they propose. Because wrongly or rightly, the form and substance of the Republic will be linked to the character of the Prime Minister who has to invoke the necessary Constitutional reforms, and the nature of the Government they lead to implement it. Which is a large reason why the Referendum on the Republic failed last time – the proposed model was not clear enough to the electorate, and Australian voters may have feared the outcome would result in a President who did not represent them, or who did not reflect the choice of the people. A bit like our recent run of Prime Ministers, and the revolving door at the Lodge!

Next week: Gratitude and the Great Recharge

 

 

 

Is Federation still working?

As three of the six Australian States (and one of the two Territories) grapple with fresh COVID outbreaks, their respective lock-down measures reveal quite different responses to what should be considered a common problem. It’s not just the differences within their own borders, but also how they react in relation to each other in terms of classifying “hot spots” and imposing travel restrictions. It’s a fresh example that despite defining itself as a single nation, the Commonwealth of Australia remains a patchwork quilt, hurriedly stitched together from the remains of colonialism, under the pretext of “Federation”.

Federation feels even more of an artificial construct than the former British colonies themselves. In my view, the inconsistencies between each State and Territory in dealing with COVID, and their fractious collective and individual relationships with the Commonwealth, can be linked to questions of national identity, the legacy of imperialism, a lack of consensus on a Treaty with our First Nations people, and the failure of Republicanism to pave a way forward.

For a start, Australia tries to maintain four different codes of professional football – yet not every State or Territory is represented in the national competitions. Of these codes, one is essentially a Victorian competition, with a couple of other States brought in on merit, and a couple of the others only included after some fabricated interstate franchises. (And how long before a Victorian club has to relocate to Tasmania?)

Another football code runs an interstate competition, but only two States compete – and sometimes they compete in another State (just for the hell of it, or to try and instill “national” relevance?)

Cricket may rightfully claim to be a national sport at a professional level, but even the major Sheffield Shield competition excludes the two Territories.

These observations may appear flippant, but in a sport-loving nation, such examples might help explain why we don’t feel a very cohesive place – not all of us even get to barrack for our own State or Territory on the playing field!

There are many other examples of arbitrary differences between the States – e.g., unicameral or bicameral Parliaments; recognition of Public Holidays; the calculation of State election dates; the width of railway tracks; connectivity with energy grids; the minimum legal age for driving a car; the size of beer glasses in pubs; and the term for a “corner shop”.

Back in 1901, Federation must have felt like part of a grand scheme towards a modern era, designed to galvanize a bunch of colonies into a cohesive whole, and forge a new nation. But we don’t formally celebrate its existence with a public holiday. Rather, each State prefers to mark the Queen’s Birthday (albeit on different dates…) instead of recognizing the Act of Federation, which was supposed to confirm Australia’s independence from the UK. Not only that, but the “National Day” we do observe is Australia Day, which is highly contentious and increasingly overshadowed by its association with foreign invasion, imperial expansion and colonial oppression.

Back to COVID: recent events have shown that the “social contract” between the Commonwealth of Australia on the one hand, and the States and Territories on the other, is purely transactional. In respect to the pandemic, the Federal government has had two primary responsibilities: 1) international border control and quarantine; 2) vaccine acquisition and distribution. Although they have maintained closed borders, the Commonwealth has “delegated” quarantine arrangements to the States, with all the resulting inconsistencies and glaring mistakes. The Commonwealth has also fudged the vaccination roll-out (too many reasons and causes to go into here).

On the need for dedicated quarantine centres: while the States have taken on (or been lumped with) an unenviable task, after 18 months of the pandemic, I don’t understand why the States haven’t taken it upon themselves to build their own facilities, and then stick the Federal Government with the bill. If landlords won’t undertake essential property repairs when brought to their attention, I think most of us would agree that their tenants would have a valid case for getting the work done themselves and deducting the cost from the rent.

Except that the States don’t have that sort of leverage over the Federal Government (despite what Queensland and Western Australia might say and think).

In short, Federation is merely a way to distribute taxes levied by the Commonwealth – even then, this distribution is mired in political horse-trading and pork-barreling. The States, unable to raise their own revenue (other than via payroll tax, stamp duty, land tax and fees from providing certain services, issuing permits and granting licenses), are heavily reliant on Federal handouts. While this allocation is often dressed up in the guise of achieving minimum targets and standards, in reality funding is tied to political objectives.

I suppose even after 120 years, Federation can still be called a work in progress. Whatever the future debate on Australia Day and an indigenous Treaty (plus constitutional recognition and parliamentary representation), and whatever the prospect of a Republic, we may need to consider that the States, as currently constituted, have had their time and are increasingly redundant. Part of me thinks we might be better off by dissolving them (along with our local authorities) and re-constituting regional government and administration around the lands of the original settlers to this island. Just a thought.

Next week: Startup Vic FinTech Pitch Night

The Day That Can’t Be Named…

Today’s date, January 26th, has developed a deep identity crisis, much like the Australian psyche: who are we, how did we get here, and what does this day actually mean? A celebration of colonialism – or a day of indigenous mourning?

Leading up to this year’s public holiday, there has been: a muted response to suggested changes to the current National Anthem; a bewildering comment by the Prime Minister about finding equivalence in the circumstances of people sailing on the First Fleet and the impact those arrivals had on the indigenous population; constant bickering between the State and Federal governments about pandemic-related border controls (hardly an advertisement for Federation); renewed angst about the Australian cricket team (always a measure of the public mood); and an apparent drop in public support for an Australian Republic.

And there lies the nub of the issue. For some time now, it has felt that progress on a number of constitutional and cultural reforms has been hampered by the fact that Australia still hasn’t reached the maturity of declaring itself a Republic. The impediment to moving forward is the adherence to the post-colonial model of a Federation retaining the British Crown as the Head of State. The fact that we don’t formally recognise or celebrate Federation is in itself very telling.

Lack of maturity is endemic – from the habitual need to shorten words and phrases verging at times on baby talk (why on earth do the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition choose to refer to themselves by their nicknames, “Scomo” and “Albo”?); to the suspicion of anything subtle, sophisticated or successful (the tall poppy syndrome).

Another foil to constitutional progression is the disproportionate influence (and position of privilege) that religious institutions retain in what is supposed to be a secular society.

Then there is the inability or reluctance to celebrate national success (apart from on the sporting field). Yes, Australia does “punch above its weight” in many areas, but there is so much inherent conservatism (small “c”) built into the system. The combination of 2-party politics, 3-tiers of government, cosy commercial duopolies, complex taxation, rigid regulatory frameworks, the laggardly trade union movement (not to say timid public policies on the environment, science, technology, education and the arts) inhibits innovation and experimentation. This institutional inertia (or conspiracy) all adds up to on overwhelming sense of acceptance, complacency and “she’ll be right”.

What if we had to work from the basis of some alternative histories? How would that change our views about January 26th? For example, what if either the French, Dutch, Spanish or Portuguese had colonised this land in the 17th or 18th century instead of the British arrived? What if the First Nations of Australia had developed metal tools and had fought back and won? What if Chinese fishing fleets or Indian trading vessels had established control of Australian waters and harbours long before the Europeans arrived? What if Indonesian or Malay tribes had settled here even further back than that? What if Japan had won the Pacific War?

This is not to excuse or justify the actions of the British in colonising the many nations that already existed in Australia, and all that followed from that. After all, the British Isles themselves had been invaded and conquered on many occasions over the centuries, so the First Fleet could be seen as a logical extension of that sequence of events. But perhaps this perspective can provide some additional context, helping us to reflect on the events and circumstances that have brought us to this point, and hopefully point to a way forward.

Next week: The Return of Cultural Cringe