Matthew Abraham: It’s time to scrap the Legislative Council in SA

In Matthew Abraham’s last column for the Sunday Mail, he proposes a massive shake-up of SA’s parliament – to speed things up, and save millions.

When it comes to a deep drowsiness, a need to sleep so overwhelming that fighting it is futile, one place in this town leaves the mattress emporiums for dead.

I’m talking about the Press Box looking down on the Legislative Council chamber. Once settled into the sturdy vinyl cushions in that muffled, dimly lit journalistic possie, I’d find myself in Noddy Land within minutes. Sleepy, sleepy, you’re getting very sleepy.

Over the years I accumulated many hours of zeds in the twilight zone of the state’s Upper House, or the “house of review”.

During that time only two events of genuine interest spring to mind. The first was the vote on the Roxby Downs Indenture Bill, when a Labor rebel, the late “Stormy” Norm Foster, crossed the floor to pass the Tonkin Liberal Government’s legislation. That was on Friday June 18, 1982, a day of nuclear-fuelled drama.

The legislation’s author, Deputy Premier and Mines Minister Roger Goldsworthy, was in the side gallery whispering “Come on Norm”, willing him across the line.

When the Bill passed, the most significant in this state’s history, the Liberals danced in the aisles. But they popped champagne in then Opposition Leader John Bannon’s offices too. Labor was opposed to uranium but elated to be let off the hook. Having your yellowcake and eating it, you might say.

The other memorable moment also involved dancing in the aisles, when Liberal MLC Legh Davis, now his party’s president, and the lone Australian Democrat upper house pollie, the late Lance Milne, joined arms for an impromptu jig on the floor of the chamber to celebrate the end of a session.

Liberal MLC Legh Davis and Australian Democrat leader Lance Milne do an impromptu jig in the Legislative Council as a marathon parliamentary session ends in 1984, watched by other MLCs Trevor Griffin, Diana Laidlaw, Martin Cameron, Chris Sumner, Gordon Bruce and Ian Gilfillan.

Now the jig is up. It’s time, friends, to let the Leg Co go. SA’s Upper House could be shut down tomorrow and democracy’s sky wouldn’t fall in.

Only Queensland, the NT and ACT have unicameral – or single chamber – parliaments. They operate happily without upper houses.

While the two territory parliaments started life like that, Queensland is the only state that has junked its upper house. Created in 1860, its members were mainly drawn from wealthy English families. Some reportedly were absent for years at a time, visiting the Old Dart.

It was abolished by the Labor Government in 1922, after it eventually secured a majority in the chamber. Labor’s leader in the upper house said: “Until we had a majority here, it was obstructive, and now that we have a majority here, it is useless.”

And as of last week, that’s precisely what the Malinauskas Labor Government has manufactured in SA’s 171-year-old upper house

By installing the experienced Liberal Terry Stephens as president, it has effective control of the floor. To pass legislation, it simply needs just one additional vote – from either the Greens or SA Best.

Members from both houses in the Legislative Council during the opening of the 55th Parliament. Picture: Brenton Edwards

Former Speaker Mick Atkinson, a wily tactician, tweeted: “Never been prouder of our team. They’re willing to sacrifice the spoils of office for legislative advantage”.

It’s been yonks since any party has created for itself such a “legislative advantage” in the house that has so often frustrated the will of both Liberal and Labor governments.

Even without this, it’s hard to mount a convincing case for keeping the joint.

While individual members are often talented and take their roles seriously, as an outfit it has often blocked or slowed governments from doing what they were elected to do, while dreaming up “reforms” that were never on the radar.

Scrapping it now would save the state almost $12m a year, with the cost rising by about $1m annually.

Roughly half of that, or $5.5m last financial year, went on salaries and allowance for the 22 members, elected on eight-year terms. Could we find a better use for the cash?

The excellent staff could be redeployed on other parliamentary duties. The chamber could be converted into a fabulous creche for the tin lids of MPs and staff.

Its glorious red carpet would soak up blackcurrant juice and other stains while the padded benches would make safe play spaces. And trust me, nap time would be a doddle.