A royal commission into the handling of the Covid-19 pandemic can’t wait

The handling of the pandemic including the money spent, the debt accumulated, the rights curtailed and the squabbles between states must be examined in the national interest.

The handling of the pandemic including the money spent, the debt accumulated, the rights curtailed, must be examined. Picture: Getty Images

While it is understandable Australians may be maxed out on royal commissions – we’ve had so many in recent years – that doesn’t alleviate the need for one more; indeed, one far more important than others, some of which have felt too political by half.

I am talking about the need for a royal commission into the handling of the pandemic, the most profound policymaking period Australia has experienced since World War II – the money spent, the debt accumulated, the rights curtailed and the squabbles between the states.

Perhaps the fatigue most people feel after two harrowing years is why few want to look back and analyse the governmental response to the crisis. But denialism doesn’t diminish the need to do so.

We closed our borders, leaving Australians abroad to rot on the vine. It was a harsh treatment of citizens with rights. We denied much-needed financial assistance to foreigners caught within our borders when lockdowns began. The scale of what occurred was an unprecedented moment in history, yet few members of the political class even want to consider a royal commission to find out what went right, what went wrong and, most important, what can be learned for next time.

The bipartisan consensus against holding a royal commission seems to come from the fact both major parties were privy to the decisions taken which, if investigated independently with judicial powers, could be found to have trampled all over democratic principles. Not a good look.

Labor and the Coalition were variously in power across the states and the federal government as time and time again decisions were taken making it illegal to so much as sit on a park bench to rest while taking a walk.

It is hard not to be cynical about the refusal to hold a pandemic royal commission given the propensity of both sides of politics to call such inquiries into far less significant issues at the drop of a hat. We have had royal commissions into Labor’s pink batts scheme, the unions and the banking sector. Several pandemic decisions taken in the financial space directly contradicted recommendations from the banking royal commission. We also have had royal commissions into aged care, natural disaster arrangements and children in detention.

It is not that these have been unnecessary but, in a comparative sense, the impact of the pandemic was more pervasive than decisions scrutinised in any of these other areas.

Don’t forget, democratic legislatures were suspended during the pandemic. State and federal parliaments stopped sitting, executive government usurped powers traditionally granted to parliaments. The border closures and state-by-state lockdowns were like nothing we had ever seen. And their scope and longevity had all manner of impacts on families and doing business.

To be sure, a royal commission wouldn’t be a witch-hunt. The process would be sound and the judgments would be made by a qualified commissioner or panel of commissioners.

If they found that governmental responses were measured and appropriate then such findings would reinforce the decisions taken, helping future governments also to make good public policy decisions if similar events unfold down the track.

But if the review of what happened found failures, with recommendations to improve the system so such failures could be avoided next time, isn’t that a good thing? Don’t we want to learn from mistakes?

As Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates said: “It’s fine to celebrate success but it is more important to heed the lessons of failure.” Or as industrialist Henry Ford said: “The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.”

Without a royal commission we won’t even know what the mistakes made were, much less learn from them. Debates will stay polemical rather than be guided by rigorous findings based on the careful accumulation of evidence and testimony.

The political class isn’t excited about the benefits of a royal commission into the pandemic because it will be called on to justify decisions. Perhaps unable to do so when the crisis isn’t immediate and the population is therefore unwilling to tolerate ad hoc decision-making.

There was talk within federal Labor about calling for a pandemic royal commission before it won the election last year. However the word internally is that it decided not to hold one because there were as many issues that would come up courtesy of state Labor government decision-making as there were with the decisions taken by the Morrison Coalition government federally.

For example, the lockdowns in Victoria were some of the harshest and longest across the world, despite Australia’s relatively low death rates.

During the pandemic, politicians also hid behind health advice repeatedly. That is, political leaders whose job it was to decipher and delineate between opinions experts provided instead presented such advice as absolute, unable to be challenged. It became a way of shutting down dissent to ensure mass acceptance of decisions taken. This phenomenon needs examination because it flies in the face of leadership theory and good public policy. A royal commission would shed substantial light on such matters.

At media conferences, journalists who questioned Scott Morrison’s decision-making would be chided by him for not understanding the weight on the prime ministerial shoulders. At one level I can understand that human reaction. The cheap seats are disproportionately occupied by the fourth estate. However, the media also has an important role holding power to account and the political class – at least the executive arm of government – was more powerful than ever during the pandemic.

After the pandemic we found out that Morrison secretly swore himself into several ministries, even without the knowledge of those ministers he was usurping.

Political systems are fragile, and ours is no different. We are fortunate to have a political culture that supports the smooth operation of government.

But if our political culture doesn’t take responsibility, seeking to learn from the pandemic via proper scrutiny of what transpired, there is a genuine risk such failure will contribute to the erosion of institutions and good public policy practices.

Given just how divisive modern politics has become, how adversarial our major parties so often are, Australians should ask themselves why those same political parties are on a unity ticket pushing the pandemic into the background rather than evaluating what happened and what can be learned for the future.

What have they got to hide?

Peter van Onselen is professor of politics and public policy at the University of Western Australia and Griffith University.