This was published 3 years ago
Hugh Mackay: ‘Our legacy is whether we succeed or fail in enriching someone else’s life’
By Benjamin Law
Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Hugh Mackay. The social psychologist and researcher, 83, has written 22 books – including eight novels – and was appointed an Officer of the Order of Australia in 2015. His latest book is The Kindness Revolution.
SEX
You would’ve been a teenager in the 1950s. What was your sex education like? Somewhere between appalling and nonexistent. Such things were simply not referred to. My parents were very inhibited about such matters, so there was no discussion with them. They did at one point recruit a cousin of my mother who was visiting – an Anglican priest – to come and talk to young Hugh. But he was celibate [Laughs].
Not the best person to teach you about sex, then. I barely knew him, so the whole thing was extremely embarrassing. I was probably 15 and he gave me a little book full of elusive references, a few pictures of genitals and a bit of technical description about reproduction. Combined with the fact that I was being raised at the time in a very fundamentalist Baptist church, it was a fairly pathetic situation, really.
You hit your 20s during the 1960s, a time of global sexual revolution. Were you a beneficiary of that? Not at all. I married young and had three children, so I was struggling with the responsibilities of being a young father and trying to forge a relationship with my even younger wife. Building a career, starting my own business, getting a mortgage – all of that. So it kind of passed me by. But by then I was getting into social research in a very big way, so I certainly knew attitudes and behaviour were changing. Just not in my case.
What do you envy about younger generations when it comes to their approach to sex? I envy the extent to which they really are educated, and the absence of taboos. The idea of premarital sex – when I was a young adult – was absolutely verboten. During the ’50s, terms like “dirty weekend” or “living in sin” were used with a straight face. So I envy the sweeping away of those taboos and their openness to friendships across the gender divide.
What don’t you envy? Sometimes the idea of recreational sex postpones the embrace of romantic love and committed sex.
What’s needed for a good sex life in your senior years? A loving companion. And the recognition that sexual performance changes as you move through your 60s, 70s, 80s and perhaps even 90s. The need for sexual release becomes less urgent, but the need for deep physical intimacy with a loving companion is as strong as ever.
Is Australia getting enough sex? Well, I don’t have a statistic. But there’s no sign that we’re a sexually frustrated society.
POLITICS
How do you tend to vote and why? Over the years, I’ve voted Liberal, Independent, Greens and Labor. Now I tend to vote Labor, but not mindlessly. I don’t wear the team jersey and support them come what may, but my inclination has moved. I’d describe myself as a social democrat.
Tell me a political opinion you hold that might surprise people. I’m very close to being a socialist when it comes to homelessness and unemployment. Anyone who’s homeless should be given housing first so that they’re in a position to be able to deal with the problems that led to their homelessness. The idea that they have to deal with their problems first, then somehow earn housing, is deeply unkind. And not worthy of us as a society.
In The Kindness Revolution, you ask if Australia could become renowned for being a loving country rather than simply a lucky one. Given Aboriginal disadvantage, our offshore detention regime and the state of politics in general, you’re kidding, right? [Laughs] Well, I’m not kidding. It’s time for us to look very hard at the events of 2020 – the bushfires, the pandemic, major floods – and the extent to which people were prepared to make personal sacrifices in the interests of the common good. On a huge scale, we acted kindly, compassionately and respectfully towards each other. People rediscovered their neighbours, helped the frail and elderly, and were more aware of the problems of social isolation. So when it comes to dealing with people who are still languishing in offshore detention centres, homelessness, long-term unemployment, aged care, why can’t we apply kindness as the first criterion for judging a policy? We get very cranky when we see politicians and governments being out of step with this capacity in the community at large.
DEATH
Let’s talk about death. Do you fear it? No, not at all.
Why not? Well, I saw a spate of deaths among my friends who died prematurely in their 50s or early 60s. My closest circle was wiped out. But among them, I found people who were terrified of death and people who were accepting and not afraid. That seemed to be unrelated to religious belief or lack of it; it was related to whether people felt as if they’d lived full and rich lives. One of my closest friends died in his early 60s. About two days before he died, he said to me, “This would be a tragedy if I hadn’t done everything I wanted to do. But I have done everything I wanted to do, so this is fine.” There’s this thing called human existence. It’s like a vast ocean and we’re a tiny droplet in it. That’s all we’ve got: the brief span; the flickering candle. That should encourage us to maximise the contribution we make while we’re here, to live as kindly as possible. For most of us, our legacy isn’t going to be our work. Our legacy is going to be the influence we had on the people we lived among. The way in which we succeeded or failed in enriching someone else’s life. The people we’ve been kind to.
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