How are you going with the election? Are you getting a lot out of the debate, seeing the big issues canvassed and making up your mind who’ll win your vote?
It’s not as if the choice isn’t clear: do you want to wait 15 months for a permanent tax cut of $5 a week, rising to $10 a week a year later, or would you be eligible for a $1200 once-only tax cut in July 2026, plus an immediate one-year cut of 25c a litre in the price of petrol?
If that’s not enough to seduce you, there’s more. Anthony Albanese will cut the price of draught beer by 5¢ a glass for two years or, for small businesses, Peter Dutton will make entertainment expenses tax-deductible (conditions apply).
But you may want to judge it on the character of the leaders. Again, the choice is clear: do you want the controlled, experienced hand of Albanese, who’ll never do anything rash, whose goals are modest and whose motto is “steady but slow”? Got a problem? He’ll think about it. If you want a prime minister who’s on everyone’s side, Albo’s your man.
Or do you want tough cop Dutton on the beat, always quick on the draw and ready to protect us from the threatening world we live in? He’s heard of a supermarket worker who’d had a machete held to her throat. That won’t happen to you on Dutto’s watch.
And it’s not as if the campaign so far hasn’t been action packed. We’ve had Albanese falling off the platform at an election rally, then denying it. We’ve had Dutton joining a kids’ football game and hitting a cameraman in the forehead.
What would a campaign be without seeing pollies in safety helmets and high-vis vests on TV every night? Or at a childcare centre, showing how human they are and what good fathers they must be whenever they can make it home?
What’s new this time is Greens leader Adam Bandt taking a big red toothbrush with him to TV interviews (must have some meaning I’m missing) or his colleague waving round a bleeding headless salmon in the Senate.
What’s that? You don’t think much of the election campaign? It’s been neither interesting nor edifying, and hasn’t got to grips with the big issues?
Well, I agree. I think both sides are treating us like mugs. Maybe like the mugs many of us have allowed ourselves to become.
In my 51 years as a journalist, this is the 20th federal election campaign I’ve observed at close quarters, and I’m convinced they’re getting worse: more contrived, manipulative, transactional and misleading, and less focused on the various serious problems facing us, which are far greater than they used to be, and now include America’s abdication from leadership of the free world.
In short, election campaigns have become dishonest, aimed at tricking us into voting for one side rather than the other, using trinkets to distract us from the bigger issues that neither side has thought much about nor has any great desire to tackle.
I know that’s easy to say for an oldie like me (77, since you were too polite to ask). “It was much better in my day.” But though things weren’t great in the old days – we’ve never been a paragon of Socratic debate – I think they’ve got worse over the years, and I’ll try to show how they’ve got worse and explain why.
But I must say this: even if things in Australia have got worse, they’re not as bad as they are in many other countries, particularly the US. Nor are they ever likely to be.
Three things protect us from other countries’ decline. First, compulsory voting, which forces everyone to register a choice and pay at least some degree of attention. Second, preferential voting ensures the person who wins is the one most of us prefer.
And third, an independent electoral commission which regularly increases the number of electorates and redraws boundaries to ensure there’s roughly the same number of voters in each, and these have boundaries that aren’t gerrymandered to give one side or the other a built-in advantage.
This is in marked contrast to the US, where each state government determines its own federal voting arrangements. Their gerrymandering ensures they have very few marginal electorates, whereas we have a lot. And we don’t have voting arrangements designed to disadvantage certain classes of voters, such as racial minorities.
So we shouldn’t complain too much. Even so, our election campaigns have changed over the years, and not for the better.
They’ve changed because the voters have changed – Gen Z seems a lot less interested in conventional politics than we Baby Boomers were at their age, when there was so much disapproval of Australia’s part in the Vietnam War, and so many young men (including me) hoping not to be conscripted.
Another important source of change is technological advance, particularly the effect of the information revolution, which has armed the parties with greater knowledge of voters’ views, and changed the media by which politicians reach out to voters.
Finally, the political class’s changing aspirations have affected the way campaigns are run. In the olden days – even before my time – politicians used to travel round, visiting key electorates and talking to voters. They’d do this at evening public meetings or, during the day, from the back of a truck in the main street.
But the advent of television changed all that. While local politicians and their supporters may canvas their electorates door to door, most contact between the party leaders and the voters occurs via TV.
These days, leaders still visit marginal seats around the country, but what they do during the day is aimed at producing the colour and movement that will get them a spot on the evening TV news – hence helmets and high-vis.
They’ve worked up a list of promises to announce, and they (and their media entourage) go somewhere vaguely relevant to deliver the announcement. Guess where they go to announce a change in childcare?
A big advantage of this is that their busy day ends late afternoon, once the TV news camerapeople have got what they need for this evening. Then the leaders can go to a fundraiser, appear on a current affairs program, or get an early night.
Trouble is, though the pollies haven’t changed their routine, the evening TV news bulletin isn’t nearly as universal as it was. When there were only four channels, all airing their news at the same time, if you wanted to watch telly while you had dinner, you couldn’t avoid the nightly news bulletin.
Now the proliferation of TV choices makes it much easier to avoid the news, which many do. The parties have started using social media to spread their messages, but this makes it harder for the rest of us to see what they’re up to.
As the proportion of people who don’t follow the news – and aren’t much interested in politics – has grown, the parties have had to reach them via advertising. They now spend a fortune on TV ads, with far fewer ads in print and on radio. My theory is that, for the many people who don’t follow politics but know they’ll have to vote, they do their last-minute homework by remembering the TV ads they’ve seen.
But advertising works by appealing to our emotions, not our brains. Don’t explain the details, just make me feel nice – or angry. The parties know negative ads – attacks on their opponents – work better than positive ones (“you’re gonna love my policies”), which is hardly a boon to the democratic process.
This is what has made fear campaigns – misleading people about how badly they’d be affected by the other side’s planned changes – so fearfully effective. And the increasing resort to fearmongering is a major way by which election campaigns have become less informative and more misleading.
So it’s not just the way the mechanics of campaigning have changed. More importantly, it’s the way what’s said has changed, and the way the politicians’ objectives and behaviour have changed.
Politics has become more professional. In former times, politicians tended to be men (yes, almost all of them men) who turned to politics after a career as a lawyer, businessman or union official. They’d wearied of making money and decided to spend the last part of their working life fighting for a cause.
I’m sure personal ambition has always been a big motivation for getting into politics, but in those days, it came mixed with a strong desire to make the world a better place. These days, politics has become a career path you follow for most of your working life.
When young people are interested in politics and would like to make a career of it, they get started as soon as they leave university, taking a job working for a union, or in a minister or opposition minister’s office. The number of people working in ministers’ offices has grown considerably during my time in journalism.
It started in the Labor Party, but then the Liberals joined in. You work your way up the ladder, first aiming for preselection as a parliamentary candidate. Once you’ve made it into parliament, you work towards a job as a minister or shadow minister, then see how far you can make it towards the very top.
Such a career path teaches you a lot about how the political game is played, but not much about how government policies work best in the interests of the public. It tends to replace any initial idealism with pragmatism and cynicism. It tends to feed ambition.
These days it’s rare for politicians to enter politics later in life. Two exceptions were the Liberals’ Dr John Hewson and Malcolm Turnbull. Both were hugely intelligent, and both cared about good policy, but both had trouble playing the political game at the professional level and didn’t survive at the top. Labor’s exception was Bob Hawke. His great success at the top came from all the politics he’d learnt while rising to the top of the union movement.
So when the barroom experts assert that most politicians care more about their personal advancement than about doing good things for the nation, I’m inclined to agree. As someone famous once said, “by their fruits ye shall know them”.
The professionalisation of politics is a main reason that what’s said and done in election campaigns has changed, but another reason is that politics has become more scientific. In former days, politics was played by ear. Pollies decided what voters liked and didn’t like from what the voters they met said to them, then used their own intuition to fill in the gaps.
These days, the parties spend a lot of money conducting private polling, not just of how people intend to vote, but what issues are more important to them at present. They also use carefully selected focus groups to get ordinary voters expressing their views on particular issues.
When someone says something and everyone round the table says “yes, that’s right”, the professionals running the group take note and pass it on to the pollies for them to use. Or it can work the other way: the pollies and their people think of lines to help sell a policy measure, and they’re tried out on appropriately chosen focus groups. What goes over well gets used in public utterances.
Between the careerism and the carefully gathered knowledge of what voters think, election campaigns have become more contrived. We’re transported to a fantasy land, where everything is nice and nothing is nasty (except the bad guys on the other side).
The pollies never try to tell a voter something they don’t want to hear. They never tell a voter they’re wrong about anything, and seem to go along with anything you may say, no matter how silly.
Have you noticed the way politicians expect us to be – and encourage us to be – completely selfish? It simplifies their job. They tell us what they can do for us and our families, never what we should be agreeing to in the interests of the country.
And the more they talk about doing this little thing or that little thing for us – the more they make following elections good preparation for a trivia quiz – the more they avoid having to talk about a host of big but controversial issues: climate change, the environment versus jobs, AUKUS, school funding, online gambling and even uninsurable homes. Of course, I couldn’t swear the media had played no part in dumbing-down election campaigns.
The pollies always tell us about the various nice things they plan to do to make our lives better, and never tell us of the not-nice things they’ll have to do to improve our lives. In election campaigns, every player wins a prize.
Not so long ago, a big part of elections was pollies being pressed to tell us exactly how much their promises would cost and exactly how they’d be paid for.
But doing that is what caused Labor’s Bill Shorten to lose the 2019 election he was expected to win. He had some expensive promises, but spelt out some small tax changes that would cover their cost.
These changes had been carefully selected to hit only some well-off people who could afford the loss, but the Libs ran a scare campaign telling ordinary punters they’d be hit and, with the effect magnified by a lot of yellow and black ads paid for by some fat Queenslander, Shorten lost enough votes to cost him the election.
The trouble here is that politicians on both sides have broken so many promises and said and done so many tricky things for so long that many voters have concluded they are all liars. This is why so many people have stopped listening to them.
But there’s one exception. The only thing a politician says that the doubters are prepared to believe is that their opponents are not to be trusted because they’re out to get you. “Ah yes, ain’t that the truth.”
That’s why scare campaigns have become the currency of election campaigning, with stultifying effect.
And that’s why the 2019 election has made elections and their campaigns much worse than they were. Under Albanese, Labor vowed never to be caught like that again. He made himself a “small target” at the 2022 election, promising to do very little, and not to do many things: introduce new taxes, increase existing taxes, and cancel or change the already legislated stage 3 tax cuts.
Apart from the latter, he’s kept those promises. He’s been a small-target prime minister, doing as little as possible to tackle our many problems, which is why so many of us are so uninspired by his performance. It’s far too risk-averse.
A leader who’s not game to do anything unpopular – such as putting up taxes – is a leader who’ll never make much progress solving our deeper problems, like giving our youngsters a fair shake, and never improve the future they profess to care about so much.
Trouble is, under our two-party system, when one side takes a position, the other side almost always copies it. We get less choice, not more. So when Albanese decides it’s safest to stay small target, Dutton stays small target.
When ditto Dutto keeps changing his policies mid-campaign, we’re watching him learning on the job not to be daring, not to fix things and, above all, to be only superficially different from the other side.
The big change since the 2019 election is that neither side will ever have the courage to propose any kind of tax change that would have some people paying a bit more – even those who could easily afford it. The tiniest possibility of an increase for some, and the fearmongers on the other side will soon have taxpayers throughout the land shaking in their boots.
This has taken the election-campaign fantasy land to a whole new level of unreality. The laws of economics have been suspended for the duration of the campaign. Government spending can only ever go up, while taxation can only ever go down. The budget deficit is presumed to be unaffected, covered by a sign saying Don’t You Worry About That.
Surely you remember the days when campaigns devoted much attention to “what do your promises cost and how will you pay for them?” That’s what tripped up Labor in 2019 and, I confidently predict, Dutton won’t let trip him up now.
Some worthy souls in the media keep lists of what the promises have cost and demand a detailed account of how that cost will be covered, but the two sides just brush them aside. They’re in tacit agreement not play that game any more. In truth, both sides will add to deficit and debt.
The other way to look at all this is that, by their poor behaviour – government by scare campaign – the two sides of politics have fought to a standstill. Neither side is game to do anything about any of our big problems for fear of the lies this would allow the other side to say about them. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “OK, Ross, if you’re so smart, what’s the solution to the mess election campaigns have got into?”
The good news is, the nation’s voters are already working on the solution. So many people have lost faith in the two sides of politics that the proportion of people voting for the two majors is the lowest it’s ever been.
In the 2022 election, the share of first-preference votes going to the minor parties and independents rose to almost a third, with the remaining two-thirds shared roughly equally between Labor and the Coalition. We saw the Libs losing seats to the teal independents, and the Greens winning more seats in the lower house.
I’m confident the minor parties’ share of the vote will go higher in this election. The experts are pretty sure that, whichever major gets more seats, it will be in minority government, needing the support of enough minors and independents to convince the governor-general it could govern effectively.
Both major parties would like us to believe minority government would mean chaos and no agreement on anything. Don’t be fooled. As we saw with Julia Gillard’s minority Labor government in 2010, the government was stable and passed more legislation than usual.
What changed was that, to get that support and stability, Labor had to agree to put through controversial measures it wouldn’t have been game to propose by itself. Such as? The carbon tax. Minority government transfers some power to the parties and independents who still believe we need real, controversial policy changes to solve our problems and improve our future.
So if you don’t like what the two major parties have done to campaigns and timidity in government, you should share my hope that this election puts neither major party back in majority government.
