Morrison may not be scared, but Albanese has got under his skin
A few weeks ago, after Scott Morrison had posted a photo of himself on social media finishing off a hen house for his daughters in the gardens of The Lodge, Labor MPs began taunting him in parliament.
The Prime Minister’s clever marketing grates with Labor, most probably because it has worked so well for him. So far. At some point, people will grow tired of it and wonder if the spin outweighs the substance and look for someone who has more to offer than an uncanny ability to sniff the public mood then feed it back to them. That time has not arrived. It will, just like it did for Kevin Rudd.
Strangely enough, Morrison’s empathy vibe has never resonated with his opponents. Not only do they scoff at the Scotty-the-builder stuff (aren’t these things put together with Allen keys these days, they ask), they thought it was disrespectful when he said the chooks would be named after the wives of prime ministers. So they took to clucking “chicken feed” and other bad puns during his answers.
Following a long tradition of psych wars played by opposition leaders and prime ministers over the dispatch box with the mikes off, Anthony Albanese needled Morrison about his neglect of women in the budget, saying it was good to see he at least thought to name his chickens after women.
Offended at first, then agitated, Morrison said his daughters had come up with the idea, then accused Albanese of attacking his daughters. Albanese told him to come off it, he wasn’t, and he found it hard to believe it was his daughters’ idea to get the cameras in to film him — nail in mouth, hammer in hand — supposedly finishing the job of putting the coop together, then to post the photo.
Those on the floor who overheard it were unsettled by the intensity of the exchange.
Last Wednesday, when he was leaving the chamber, Morrison told Albanese he wasn’t “scared” of him. It was a curious exit line, particularly after the Prime Minister spends so much of question time with his back turned to Albanese and the opposition benches.
If it was a bit of bravado, it didn’t work. If it was for real, it still didn’t work. Because it happened just after he had pressed Morrison on why he had stalled on setting up an integrity commission, it signalled to Albanese that maybe he was on to something. Also, if he truly meant it, it showed a vein of complacency Morrison keeps warning his backbenchers not to indulge.
Now that we have entered a new phase of COVID normal, the personal animosity, the mutual disdain once expressed sotto voce and to the side, is now laid bare. Albanese’s surprise motion congratulating Victorians on their fortitude, which Morrison enthusiastically supported, was an attempt at one-upmanship disguised as bipartisanship.
Lately, questions which sound innocent enough, or motions purporting to show we are all in it together, turn out to be ambushes or minefields. Unfortunately, sometimes the perpetrators as well as the targets become victims.
Josh Frydenberg, who gave the best speech on the end of the lockdown, from the heart with scribbled notes, helped puncture Labor’s attempt to embarrass the government. It was as fearless as Premier Daniel Andrews himself and it registered with Victorians who did not fully stand with Dan. To paraphrase Andrews, it was a leader’s speech.
Labor was on more fertile ground last week when Communications Minister Paul Fletcher was asked by his shadow, Michelle Rowland, if he had confidence in the board and chief executive of Australia Post. It was a set-up. Sensing something was up, Fletcher stopped short of a rousing endorsement of the men and woman who run Australia Post.
Labor had heard all the stories about questionable Australia Post spending, including the purchase of Cartier watches as gifts for executives who had snared valuable contracts. They had their questions ready for Senate estimates the next day, so they hoped to rope in Fletcher. Unexpectedly, they hooked the Prime Minister.
Christine Holgate, Australia Post’s chief executive, was a soft target, bearing the full brunt of Morrison’s premeditated rage. His performance was as flashy and as genuine as Rolexes sold by street hawkers in alleyways.
It was amazing that a few baubles costing less than $20,000 inspires such indignation when a $30m land deal which stinks to high heaven does not. Intent on heading off a political problem, Morrison couldn’t care if a top-flight executive who had made impolitic decisions became road kill. It would be understandable if Holgate quit in disgust, but I hope she doesn’t. Nor do Australia Post licensees, who are sending Morrison $5 notes to pay for the watches.
Australia Post’s culture has to change, and Holgate needs counselling and some media advice, but she doesn’t deserve to see her reputation trashed or lose her job.
Morrison’s over-the-top reaction then meant Australian Securities & Investments Commission chairman James Shipton and his deputy Daniel Crennan were also on borrowed time over the payment of tax advice and moving expenses by the taxpayer.
The purchase of land for Badgerys Creek airport for 10 times its value, which has been referred to police for investigation, the ASIC payments, and sports rorts were uncovered by the Australian National Audit Office.
That would be the same office which has had its funding cut in real terms by 18 per cent over seven years of coalition government, reducing its ability to conduct audits while the government stalls on setting up a national integrity commission because Morrison says he and the entire public service have been consumed with handling the pandemic. That is when they aren’t building chicken coops or shopping at Bunnings for inflatable Santas riding sharks.
Crossbench senator Rex Patrick, who joined with Labor in an appeal to Morrison to properly fund the ANAO, received a response from the Prime Minister on Wednesday, saying he was waiting for a review to be completed before deciding. Unimpressed, Patrick says Morrison does not need a review to tell him the ANAO needs more money, claiming the funding cuts are part of a broader strategy to reduce oversight.
This financial nobbling of the ANAO, a revered institution, is actually the biggest scandal and the one which deserves genuine outrage. One day that photo hammering in the last nail will become a metaphor.