The Sketch: in days of looming darkness there is very little light shed on subjects

lights are nearly off in House of Representatives Chamber at Parliament House in Canberra. Picture Kym Smith

With a query from Bill Shorten, question time picked up where Thursday’s marathon session left us dangling: “How can the PM claim his government never ­opposed a disability royal commission when every government senator voted against it?”

Whatever else you can say about Scott Morrison’s reply, you have to admire the masterly ease with which he sidestepped the question. He did, however, conclude with a gentlemanly invitation to Shorten to “not play politics with disabilities”. Furthermore, he urged Labor to not play partisan politics, and he scorned it for having its head stuck in the “Canberra bubble”. The PM has transcended such base matters and strives to lead by example.

One possible alternative to partisanship was demonstrated by Josh Frydenberg as he dragged in both sides. In a rolling performance with more energy than the mothballed big stick, the Treasurer channelled Tony Abbott as he accused Labor of plotting a “big new housing tax”. He reached back to Paul Keating for the purpose of further clubbing them. (Labor’s Ed Husic was also inspired to channel Keating, and called out “all tip, no iceberg”, a heckle that coincided with silence, arriving like an aircraft carrier in a small harbour.)

Frydenberg even — and it’s impossible to type these words lightly — made a positive mention of Simon Crean. But even in the middle of his sledge jamboree, Frydenberg gave off the air of a man with a smile on his face and song in his heart.

Not so Peter Dutton. It was soon clear that those brief, heady days of last August — when he wanted to relax and reveal his smile to the nation — were well and truly behind him. As he clouted Labor for weakening border ­security with that medivac business, not even the attempted ­verbal resistance from ALP fact-checkers could deter him.

Labor frontbencher Brendan O’Connor wanted the PM to shed some light on why two of his ministers — Michaelia Cash and ­Michael Keenan — were refusing to provide witness statements to the Australian Federal Police ­inquiry into that Australian Workers Union raid. (Over in Senate estimates, Penny Wong asked on “what planet of ministerial responsibility” was it acceptable, alarmingly expanding the concept to an entire world.) “This is a matter before the courts,” ScoMo replied before launching a brief inquiry of his own: “Why did union fund money go to GetUp?”

It all returned to its core theme when Labor’s Amanda Rishworth accused Environment Minister Melissa Price of being “completely missing in action” in the Murray-Darling calamity.

Price was deeply put out: “It is indeed very disappointing, at a time when many communities along the Murray-Darling Basin are in a very distressed state, you should come to this place and politicise this. Very disappointing.”

None of it was particularly ­illuminating.

In a fit of symbolism later in the afternoon — just as Tony Burke was attempting to pineapple the government — the House of Representatives’ lights went out, leaving proceedings in a moody sort of gloaming.

“Are we still going?” asked Burke.

The answer is, of course, yes. There is no end.