David Penberthy: I am not sure what the people of Australia did to deserve such an election campaign

The extent to which the Albo gaffe has dominated proceedings seems to point to a broader malaise, writes David Penberthy.

It is only early days, but the first few days of this six-week election campaign have already felt like an eternity.

Thanks largely to the amateurism of Anthony Albanese on Monday, who in his own words confirmed the validity of the Liberals’ attack on his economic credentials, this tediously lengthy campaign seems destined to become an extended name-calling exercise.

I am not sure what the people of Australia did to deserve such an election campaign, but May 21 feels like a long way away.

To my eyes, having followed elections for a fairly long time now, all this one is doing is making me feel wistful about the past. It is the first election I can remember which seems devoid of any genuine and gripping policy contest, and has instead become a case of “I’m less of an ass than the other bloke”.

In 1993 Paul Keating fought a rearguard action against John Hewson, successfully arguing his Jobsback and Fightback plans represented an assault on the cost of living and job security for every Australian. Three years later, John Howard saw off Keating, saying his ambitious agenda of a republic, engagement with Asia and reconciliation had come at the neglect of bread-and-butter issues for the average punter.

Prime Minister Scott Morrison visits a factory. Picture: Jason Edwards

In 1998, having heroically introduced national gun laws, Howard made the crazy-brave decision to reverse his promise to “never, ever” introduce a GST, and won on the ambitious and risky platform of major tax reform. In 2001, after September 11, it was all about national security. In 2004, with Howard initially on the slide against a young Mark Latham, Howard reminded us all that he had a good economic tale to tell, with Latham inadvertently exposing his unhinged side as the campaign drew to a close by almost breaking Howard’s hand with a forceful shake.

In 2007, Howard had run his race, and Rudd won by talking about modern issues such as broadband and climate change and promising to restore race relations by apologising to the stolen generation.

Perhaps the rattiness that now infects federal politics can be traced back to the knifing of Rudd. As irritating as he was, and remains, the decision of caucus to knock off a sitting PM was an impertinence in the eyes of the people. I know we do not have a presidential system of government – caucus and the party room elects the leaders – but the Australian people rightly feel that it is general elections where a leader’s fate is determined, not over beers for the factional bosses at some shady Sydney pub.

I say this with no sympathy for Rudd, as his abrasive personality brought on this remarkable internal coup. But as an event, the Rudd knifing formalised a kind of acceptable new low standard in federal politics.

It is one that has been played out repeatedly since, when Rudd got his own back against Julia Gillard before losing to Tony Abbott, who was subsequently knifed by Malcolm Turnbull in 2015, who was then knocked off by Scott Morrison in 2018.

It is such a massive contrast when you think back to the steadiness and strength of both the Hawke/Keating governments and the Howard government to marvel at the decade’s worth of crap we have been served up.

When Howard was elected in 1996 he came to power in the afterglow of a Labor economic reform agenda which was long overdue for our nation and which, to their credit, enjoyed bipartisan support from the Libs.

In my time covering federal politics for The Advertiser, not long after Howard got in, the issues he grappled with were not just the whopping question of tax reform but the cautious removal of tariffs in uncompetitive industries, the need to make first homes more affordable, and our sluggish population growth through the introduction of a baby bonus.

With a few exceptions – such as the NDIS – the paucity of nation-building ideas across the past decade has been striking. At the same time, the decline in the generation of ideas has been matched by an increase in the generation of insults.

It feels like the journos are increasingly in on the game, too. I stuck up for Morrison a few weeks back over his bread gaffe, asking whether Australia really wanted not so much a leader as an idiot savant who, when presented with a full shopping trolley, could rattle off the price of every item to the last decimal point.

Labor leader Anthony Albanese visits the Father Bob Maguire Foundation in South Melbourne. Picture: Toby Zerna

I am less inclined to give Albo any cover over Monday’s debacle. As when you’re in the jobs and economy game, which is ultimately what politics should be about, knowing the unemployment rate (or at least getting vaguely close) seems kind of central to your job.

But the extent to which the Albo gaffe has dominated proceedings seems to point to a broader malaise, namely that there isn’t really much else to talk about.

It has been the same for ScoMo during much of his prime ministership, schoolyard stuff where a rude leaked text message from Barnaby Joyce, or the ranting stylings of a smited soon-to-be ex-senator, can become the dominant story of the day.

This kind of idiocy fills a vacuum that is created when there is nothing intelligent to talk about. Gone are the days of big policy contests and debates framed around points of ideological difference.

It is instead small target scare campaigns such as the baseless Medicare one, and name-calling and abuse around everything from Hawaiian holidays and Mean Girls quotes to leaked texts, forgotten stats, and quips along the lines of “I don’t hold a hose mate”.

I saw on Twitter the other day that a few lefties are following the PM around in Hawaiian shirts with ukuleles playing Dragon’s April Sun in Cuba, with the usual crowd hailing this as some hilariously droll take on his leadership.

It strikes me instead as a suitably vacuous form of behaviour for the times we inhabit, where the contest of ideas has instead become a moronic popularity contest between the parties, and since the Rudd coup, inside of them too.