John Howard is our worst ever prime minister

John Howard is our worst ever prime minister, according to Phillip Adams. Picture: Monique Harmer

All of us, every human being irrespective of colour, religion or postcode, are 99.99 per cent identical. DNA’s double helix makes it clear that you, King Charles, Donald Trump and Mark Latham (to choose a few humans at random) are separated by just .01 per cent. Thanks heavens for that .01 per cent.

But some of us are even closer. Me and John Howard for example. Despite some subtle political differences we’re peas in a pod. Born just hours apart in July 1939, we’ve become grumpy old buggers, bald and hard of hearing, who having run out of relevance are heading for the exit. John is no longer the Libs’ secret weapon – his recent interventions in elections haven’t helped their vote. For the young? He’s John Whoward.

We have always shared a repugnance for retirement. His was forced upon him by mutinous voters, while mine approaches via poor health. Yet oddly I’ve John to thank for the length of my innings. As prime minister, he was once asked to define what was wrong with the ABC. His response? “Where’s the right-wing Phillip Adams?”

Fun fact: I’ve never been an ABC staffer, relying instead on 30-odd annual contracts. And make no mistake, there have been many attempts to evict me from the premises – including one earlier this year. John’s useful question gave me job security, albeit briefly, for the first and last time. And in desperate attempts to balance my bias the ABC had to hire a succession of right-wing me’s, including Tim Blair, Tom Switzer and Amanda Vanstone.

John and I belong to a mutual detestation society. He sees me as a pimple on the bum of the body politics; I see him (against stiff competition) as our worst ever prime minister. Although much of the blame might rest on his wife Janette, effectively our first female PM. Based on the eyewitness accounts of John Hewson, you’ll find the lurid details in my indispensible Backstage Politics (Penguin).

Time to confess that I’ve slept with Janette on three occasions. On each occasion some Qantas larrikin gazumped my preferred seat –1A – and gave it to Mrs Howard, plonking me in 1B. Ever the gentleman, and seeing her pained expression, I’d soothingly say: “Not to worry, I’m passing out”... and I would. But I couldn’t resist the temptation to reveal our intimate sleeping arrangements on air.

Why our worst PM? We have Honest John to thank for the horrors of Hansonism, for the endless cruelty of our refugee policy – and for our involvement in the invasion of Iraq. Bob Woodward, the ultimate US insider, told me that Howard didn’t just “go along” with George W but “greatly influenced” the wavering president. As a result millions were killed, maimed or displaced. In this context Howard’s gun laws after Port Arthur don’t cut it; in any case, as Paul Keating told me at the time, no PM would have had any choice.

Add it all up, and my nomination of Howard as our worst ever PM is as defensible as his term in office wasn’t. Others have been foolish or incompetent – McMahon, Abbott, Turnbull and Morrison come to mind – but they’re bronzeand silver medallists compared to Howard’s gold.

So John, happy birthday to you. And, while I’m at it, to me. We’re almost 84 and counting.