The most powerful Australian is ... the tradie

THE Australian tradesman has absolute power, writes Joe Hildebrand. And it’s only made stronger by every other bloke having to pretend he knows what the tradie is talking about.

Joe Hildebrand reckons no human surpasses the power of the Aussie tradie. Picture: Nigel Lough.

AS the world still comes to grips with the election of Donald Trump, it is perhaps worth reminding ourselves that the president of the United States is only the second most powerful man in the world.

The first, of course, is the Australian tradie. Not only are there fewer of them than there are US presidents, but no human being holds more power.

When you’re wading through water because your bathroom sink has just exploded, you don’t care if someone’s going to invade Russia. You just care if they have the right wrench.

In short, every Australian tradesman has virtually absolute power — only made stronger by the fact every Australian bloke has to pretend he knows what the tradie is talking about.

Tradie: “Mate, the problem is the intake valve is perpendicular to the auxiliary ball bearing that overrides the trip switch that activates the cantilever, so we’re gonna have to reroute the primary flux capacitor or we’re never going to get back to 1985.”

You: “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

But even if you did notice your stove wasn’t a time machine, it wouldn’t make any difference. The only reason you call in a tradie is because even in your most methylated fantasies, you can’t do the job yourself. You know it, they know it, and they know you know it.

Sure, in theory you can shop around, but there’s a certain bargaining power you lose when you’re knee-deep in toilet water or trying to cook lamb chops in a jaffle maker.

Every Australian tradesman has virtually absolute power — only made stronger by the fact every Australian bloke has to pretend he knows what the tradie is talking about

And there is all that “safety” crap. While you might think charging an extra half grand to comply with Australian Standard C245(k) is excessive, the funeral conversation still plays out in your mind …

Mourner 1: “How tragic! An incredibly gifted columnist, taken from us too soon.”

Mourner 2: “True. But on the plus side, he did save $500 on the installation.”

Lest we forget those immortal last words: “Screw those guys, I’m going to rewire the house myself!”

And so our lives are literally in their hands. Or possibly in the hands of another even more terrifying and absolute force.

I speak, of course, of the pregnant wife, a mysterious being whose decisions are — somewhat ironically — impregnable. Nonetheless, they all seem to involve tearing the house down from the inside out, a process that is puzzlingly referred to as “nesting”.

I’ve often thought an easy substitute for a conventional pregnancy test would be to count the number of tradies you have seen in the past week. If it’s zero, you’re a university student. If it’s 12, congratulations! You’re having a baby!

Granted, this method is approximately 2000 times more expensive than your Clearblue test, but it never hurts to get a second opinion. Besides, who needs an obstetrician to tell you your wife’s up the duff, when you’ve already spoken to a tiler, a painter, an electrician and a plumber? The only benefit is the obstetrician’s slightly cheaper.

And so how can we truly value these heroes of the modern age?

The truth is none of us could possibly put a price on them. This is why God invented rate cards.

And whenever we need them, they’ll be there — between 7am and midday.

Joe co-hosts Studio 10, 8.30am weekdays, on Network Ten.