Mike O’Connor: If ministers were across their portfolios, there’d be no need for endless inquiries

The Palaszczuk government has come to resemble a long-running soap opera, a taxpayer-funded remake of Days of Our Lives, writes Mike O’Connor.

It is time, surely, that the Queensland government held an inquiry into why it holds so many inquiries.

Inquiries follow commissions, which are followed by more inquiries, which generate reports, which are stacked high on ministerial desks and remain unread while another inquiry is called into whatever issue it is that has generated so much heat in the media that it can no longer be ignored.

Months then pass while the responsible minister contemplates the report sitting on his or her desk, circling it like a dog might a bone as it ponders the wisdom of grasping it.

If it remains unread then surely no one can be accused of failing to act on its recommendations.

The rationale seems to be that you cannot reasonably be expected to act on problems of which you are technically unaware so best to grab the ministerial hard-hat and high-vis vest and head off to another staged media event and leave unpleasantries such as decision-making, assertive action and a sworn duty to act in the best interests of Queenslanders for another day.

Queensland Youth Justice Minister Leanne Linard. Picture: Brendan Radke

The government has come to resemble a long-running soap opera, a taxpayer-funded remake of Days of Our Lives.

Like the soap opera, it is predictably dreadful and shallow but it’s been there for so long that you no longer notice its faults.

Another day, another disaster, but who’s counting? It is, as they say, what it is.

Occasionally, we are treated to some moments of genuine comedy such as Youth Justice Minister Leanne Linard feeling an urgent need to be in Perth when the report of an inquiry – yes, another one – into aspects of her portfolio that had been gathering dust on her desk for eight months was released.

We can presume that Perth was chosen as the ministerial hidey-hole when her staff discovered there were no directs flights to Patagonia.

Releasing reports late in the evening or weekends in inevitably failed attempts to avoid public scrutiny has become standard practice as the government squirms and wriggles in Houdini-like attempts to escape the binding chains of its own making.

It requires no great intellect to appreciate that if ministers were across their portfolios, there would be no need for endless inquiries.

It is their job to ensure that they are fully informed and then to act decisively to solve the problem.

Police Minister Mark Ryan and Premier Annastacia Palaszczuk. Picture: NCA NewsWire/Tertius Pickard

The Sergeant Schultz response ”I know nothing!” does not suffice.

The extraordinary revelations being generated by the scandal surrounding DNA testing at the government’s forensic laboratory are a classic case study of the Schultz Defence.

Nobody knew anything or, even after media reports began to surface, felt inclined to ask.

Here is a case of a government absolutely failing to govern, a failure that generated the report by Walter Sofronoff KC.

While TV news bulletins have become a repository for police-supplied aerial videos of car chases and advice on how to remove life-threatening mould from the shower recess, Sunday evening’s offerings can provide some smiles when the minister who has drawn the short straw and been appointed weekend government spokesperson fronts the cameras.

My favourite is Police Minister Mark Ryan, whose fate it is to resemble a schoolboy who has become separated from the rest of the class while on a tour of Parliament House and finds himself fronting a media conference, bewildered puzzlement going some way to describe the expression frozen on his features.

Former Labor premier Peter Beattie, Picture: Jerad Williams

Former Labor premier Peter Beattie, not known for his shy and retiring nature, was moved to offer some gratuitous advice last week, urging Premier Annastacia Palaszczuk to name a successor, as he had done in anointing Anna Bligh.

Left unsaid, not surprisingly, was that by then it was obvious that the good ship Beattie Government was heading for the rocks, be they ever so distant, with only one life raft on board. Beattie grabbed it and paddled merrily away to another taxpayer-funded job – you can’t help good luck – leaving Bligh to ultimately go down with the ship and Campbell Newman to become premier.

Beattie’s remarks are unlikely to have been appreciated in George St but those currently enjoying the comfort of ministerial leather and who fancy their chances of getting The Big Job might do well to remember the circumstances surrounding his departure.

If the Premier decides it is time to depart the ship, a life jacket might be a timely investment.