Transport Minister Andrew Constance wants to burst political bubble
Transport Minister Andrew Constance lived the struggle of those ravaged by fire over the summer — and learned that there's a lot more to life than machine politics, writes Anna Caldwell.
NSW
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Andrew Constance has observed something different about parliament and politicians since returning from a horror summer where he stared death in the face fighting fires.
Well, maybe parliament isn’t different, but he can now see it for what it is.
In stunning remarks that don’t miss even his own colleagues, Constance, a frontbencher in Gladys Berejiklian’s leadership team, told me this week that NSW parliament lives in a political bubble dictated by a herd mentality.
“The great divide is between the political bubble in this place and the community out there,” he told me.
“The dark arts of politics — no one cares for it. How does a gotcha moment lift someone out of the ash? How does it help people being battered by coronavirus?”
Launching this attack on the state of politics, including his own side, Constance told me he was firm in his reserve that we must do better.
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His vision stems from having become uncomfortably familiar with the pain of the meat-and-potatoes lives of people in our suburbs, regions and bushland who quite simply struggle to keep their heads up.
Those people struggling to rebuild. Those people with nowhere to go. And the people for whom life is just simply tough — bills, commutes, healthcare.
“You become immune to reality if you’re not careful in this game,” Constance said, adding that politics had, before this summer, “dehumanised him”.
“I am still being treated, of course, but I am clear-headed enough to see that there are people having silly arguments for the wrong reason.
“You feel good for five minutes. It is a herd mentality and the standout people rise above it.”
Constance says he used to be “in the mix that did the wrong thing”, but not any more.
“It is perplexing. It is good to have debates but hope is what people desperately need,” he said.
In the months after the horror summer of fires, there are new divisions emerging in the parliament.
MPs like Constance, who fought the black summer head on, have no time for those colleagues who are obsessed with political game-playing — even if those colleagues sit on his side of the chamber.
They suddenly have a great affinity with MPs across the aisle who they know stood alongside mates trying to keep livelihoods afloat and people alive in January.
Constance made clear his criticisms were not about Premier Gladys Berejiklian or Deputy Premier John Barilaro, who he heaped praise upon for being focused on people, not political game-playing.
But the remarks can be interpreted partly as a veiled swipe at his moderate colleagues who were caught out at dinner last week plotting against Barilaro.
Constance, also a moderate, was not at the dinner and says he doesn’t have the time or temperament for backroom machinations of politics these days and wants to focus on real issues “outside the bubble”.
There is an irony in the fact that it was Scott Morrison who liked to repeatedly talk about the “Canberra bubble” when he endeared himself to working families in the election — but was howled out of Cobargo in fire season by victims who saw the PM as very much being of the bubble he had derided.
Constance’s trajectory has gone the other way.
He admits that when he looks back on footage of himself at light rail press conferences last year, he doesn’t like what he sees.
He tells me now he is “gutted” because he comes off as an out-of-touch politician. Arrogant even.
“I just look like a machine instead of someone who is talking about what people think and feel,” he said.
This disconnect Constance speaks of between the lived, real world experiences of humans and the detached plans of politicians is dangerous for everyone.
It’s dangerous for regular people because it means that politicians are making decisions with insufficient regard for real life experiences. And it’s dangerous for politicians because voters can smell it a mile off and they don’t like it.
That’s why Constance has suddenly found himself hailed as a politician of a different breed in all quarters — people appreciate his authenticity, even if he just calls it common sense.
Bursting the bubble — or in Trump parlance, draining the swamp — is an idea that appeals to voters’ innate distrust of politicians and the establishment.
It is a concept that explains the Trump victory, Brexit and the yellow vest movement in France.
Constance is nothing like Trump, but tapping into that disconnect is a powerful call to those who have no power themselves.
This gap between sterile, disconnected political activity and the lived reality of voters is glaringly true in the climate change debate.
Families all over this country care about the climate and want to protect it. But for many it is a problem ranked well below daily concerns of feeding families, paying bills and finding a place to live.
In the bush, it ranks well below people wanting to clear their land so they aren’t razed to the ground.
This does not mean we shouldn’t tackle climate change, but it means we cannot lose sight of lived realities first and foremost.
Constance told me he wants to see a change in politics.
He wants more politicians who roll up their sleeves and get their hands dirty in the regions, citing Barilaro as an example of this.
But Macquarie Street is famous for political animals, games and dirty tricks.
While families and businesses fear the onslaught of coronavirus, and bush communities fear the next fire season, watch closely what politicians are up to.