Time for corruption watchdog to prove its worth to the public

Last week, Australia’s powerful federal corruption watchdog released a report clearing a controversial federal government offshore processing contractor of wrongdoing.

But like many things in the secretive and shadowy world of corruption probes, the National Anti-Corruption Commission report into Paladin didn’t tell the whole story.

Paladin founding director and major shareholder Craig Thrupp.

It invited questions about whether the NACC is performing to the expectations of the voters and politicians that championed its creation by the Albanese government.

The first thing to know about the NACC inquiry that cleared Home Affairs contractor Paladin over dealings between its founder Craig Thrupp and his mother, a Home Affairs official, is that it is not truly a NACC inquiry.

The probe was inherited from a predecessor, the Australian Commission for Law Enforcement Integrity, which was absorbed by the NACC upon its formation in 2023.

It brought with it a dismal history of mostly inconsequential inquiries (the agency did expose a significant customs corruption scandal with federal police help) and a backlog of investigations into matters that, as it turned out, didn’t involve much, if any, corruption.

The scandal of ACLEI is not that it took on flaky probes, it is that it was hamstrung by jurisdictional constraints (it couldn’t investigate politicians or government contractors like Paladin, only certain government agency employees) and under-resourcing, meaning it took far too long to sort the wheat from the chaff as serious allegations went unchecked. Paladin is a case in point.

As ACLEI spent years chasing and then ultimately dismissing a dud corruption lead about Thrupp and his mother, this masthead and then the Australian Federal Police were unearthing an issue far more deserving of investigative attention: Paladin’s suspected funnelling of Home Affairs funds (i.e. taxpayer dollars) to offshore accounts to pay $3 million to a middleman who is suspected of bribing Papua New Guinea officials resisting Australia’s offshore processing regime.

The AFP is now running a full-blown probe into Paladin and Thrupp, but given the police and the Commonwealth Director of Public Prosecutions’ poor track record in prosecuting foreign bribery, the public are right to be sceptical about whether any prosecution will emerge.

It must be stressed Thrupp is merely a suspect and there is no suggestion he is guilty of any offence, or that he will even be charged. What is clear is that Paladin used government funds in a way that a corruption commission can probe through public hearings.

Theoretically, the NACC can probe government contractors such as Paladin using powers that place a premium on exposing corruption rather than having people charged.

But should it? The answer is complicated by the fact the Paladin investigation case involves suspected bribery overseas, not in Australia where former spy chief Dennis Richardson has already completed a report, and a police agency which, whatever its spotty record on foreign bribery, is already on the case. And this is all set against a backdrop of delicate diplomatic relations.

A similar consideration about duplicated effort applies to the Robodebt scandal. After a royal commission made its damning findings into public servant and political conduct, some commentators and rightly outraged voters urged the NACC into the fray.

But the NACC wasn’t given its royal commission powers to simply duplicate an earlier royal commission. If officials should be prosecuted as a result of the robo-debt royal commission, that royal commission should have referred them to the Commonwealth Director of Public Prosecutions.

Those critical of NACC chief Paul Brereton for not taking on robo-debt seem to want to pin the shortcomings of the robo-debt royal commission onto his agency.

Such a critique is misguided and also overlooks Brereton’s past including his 2020 report into war crimes that was fearless, exhaustive and politically courageous.

This is what the NACC now needs to be as it uses its powers and resources not to trample over old ground but rather dig up fresh cases of corruption.

Equally, it must pursue powerful figures who have seemingly enjoyed impunity. Those who haven’t before been excoriated at a commission of inquiry but are deserving of scrutiny.

A case in point may well be ex-Coalition minister Stuart Robert. Despite a body of evidence suggesting he used his influence as a politician to help his mates’ business win work, Robert himself has faced no public accountability at the hands of any integrity agency. The media has instead done the heavy lifting.

Former minister Stuart Robert.Credit: Alex Ellinghausen

The secretive NACC won’t say if it is investigating Robert after a parliamentary referral.

Over a year after its launch, the NACC is nonetheless reaching the point at which it must demonstrate to the public it is both willing and able to apply its powers to boldly hold public officials to account in cases of grave breaches of trust.

Robert denies all wrongdoing and it may be that his conduct, while grubby, doesn’t reach the NACC’s bar for a full-blown public inquiry.

Only the naive would suggest that there isn’t a truckload of corruption out there deserving of attention, from bribery to pork barrelling schemes, procurement rorts and odious lobbying.

Over a year on from its formation, the public can be assured it is using its powers in private (as its public reports reveal).

But if democracy dies in darkness, the NACC needs to start shining some light where we all can see it.