Local elections again. Goodness, it seems as if it was but yesterday when our streets were last adorned with dreadful corflute and a plethora of posters, all bearing the beaming faces of contestants hoping to win prizes. So much hype and that's understandable too because the stakes are, if not high, still significant enough for those involved to make a determined play to receive your vote. Everyone involved is busily pretending that your vote will, this time, really count; that somehow this particular festival of democracy is meaningful and significant. So let's play along, dissecting the rival claims, seeing how they stack up and deciding for ourselves what is actually going on here.
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The issues that will be resolved by this ballot are local - but that shouldn't be regarded as a dismissive comment. What it actually means is that this vote will establish the immediate parameters of our interactions with government for the next four years. These will vitally effect our lives, regulating everything from the start that our children receive in life at school through to the sort of houses we live in; from the care and support we offer to those who haven't managed to succeed in life to the medical arrangements as we grow older. Nothing in this column should be read to suggest that this electoral contest is not important. And this is exactly why so many of us find it incredibly difficult to get excited.
The first condition for enthusiasm is, obviously enough, that there is some real prospect of change but today the dominance of the two main parties has become entrenched.
When self government was first thrust upon Canberra back in 1989, the city's 250,000 residents elected 17 members. Now an expanded 25 politicians represent more than 400,000 in five electorates. Theoretically, because of the Hare-Clark (modified D'Hondt) voting system this election should throw up candidates who best reflect the diversity and multiple personalities of the city. Back in 1995 Kate Carnell's Liberals even managed to form government with the support of two independents, (health academic) Michael Moore and (ex-Rugby League player) Paul Osborne. Carnell held on again in '98 but her replacement Gary Humphries lost to Labor's Jon Stanhope in 2001. Since then Labor's held the city in its increasingly firm grip.
This isn't surprising. It has little to do with policy and everything to do with structure. Early on, there were few barriers to entering politics and people did. Mavericks were elected and the voting system really did encourage a plurality of views being held and shared. Slowly, inexorably, that's changed.
The rewards on offer are both too great yet not huge enough to encourage the best to fight for them. Perhaps that's why both Katie Gallagher and Zed Seselja leapt to the bigger forum of federal politics and maybe this hints at the current barren dynamic of the Legislative Assembly.
The broader political contest has winnowed down into a conservative endorsement of the status quo.
A simple, unsurprising dynamic has become entrenched over the past 20 years, resulting in its own self-perpetuating momentum. The mechanics of voting and the distribution of rewards favour those who concentrate their focus on winning in this arena. That's why Andrew Barr's risen to dominance. He plays for keeps and never allows an interaction to pass without ensuring he wins.
This isn't the forgiving game of someone exchanging ideas and working towards a greater, more expansive society. It aims at brokering deals that accommodate the big players, assisting them grow bigger, while still promising something more than lip service towards the little people who might otherwise be feeling left behind.
This is why the opposition's promise of co-opting Stanhope to head a commission investigating disadvantage is such a coup and represents Barr's biggest and most dangerous threat. The former Labor leader has a personal brand soaring above and beyond both that of his successor and Liberal leader Alistair Coe. He's a known quantity that's experienced and harks back to the idealism of the early years of self-government. Stanhope's intervention is perhaps the only chance Coe had of welding his party into a genuine alternative to Barr.
These are the key questions we need to be asking. Why, for example, can't primary schools have two intakes a year? How, more broadly, can our lives really be improved? Yet while all the answers revolve around numbers that seemingly prove conclusively that things are getting better the reality of our lives disintegrates around us.
The Greens under Shane Rattenbury are now becoming reduced to little more than a support act for Labor. Accepting a ministry in government as the price for his support was always going to be politically dangerous for the Greens, because it seemed to represent the compromise of principles in return for (apparent) power yet it's difficult to perceive any change of substance. By simply endorsing Stanhope's inquiry the Green's might sharpen their distinction from Labor; they certainly don't appear to represent much of an alternative at the moment. Why, for example, didn't the Greens earlier think of a similar investigation to that of Stanhope? Why don't they put it forward as price for their support now? Perhaps comfy seats in large offices are more appealing than policy purity.
Previous, sputtering attempts at overturning the two-party juggernaut, with its entrenched system of distributing the rewards of power have failed. Hope of change and new approaches has been buried by emphasis on management and experience. The broader political contest has winnowed down into a conservative endorsement of the status quo with both sides hammering the need to get "back to basics" and stressing government's key role in delivering vital services.
It would be nice to think the new government might be able to provide some answers to the big questions about the meaning of life. Regrettably, I don't think it will.
- Nicholas Stuart is a Canberra writer.