A rotten end to a rotten year for a rotten government

The end of the parliamentary year is often ragged. Sometimes for oppositions. More often for governments. Everyone’s at the end of their rope. Governments are often keen to push slabs of legislation through, even if they’re being frustrated by the Senate. If there’s an election in the offing, it’s even worse, with backbenchers tempted to grab themselves some limelight and crossbenchers less inclined to cooperate.

Of course there’s traditionally a last-minute bout of well-wishing, seasons greetings and thank-yous to staff exchanged between MPs of all sides, but that seems to look more and more farcical each year. Scott Morrison yesterday used his to reel off his achievements during the year, then chip Labor about its “coalition” with the Greens.

After the Jenkins report released earlier in the week, it’s hard to take the thanks expressed to staff by any side particularly seriously. The abuse, harassment and exploitation of staff remains a huge problem for politics, along with the culture of entitlement and non-accountability that it partly derives from.

But for Scott Morrison, the end of 2021 was particularly ragged — worse even than the chaotic end of 2018, when his government was in minority. Notionally, Scott Morrison isn’t leading a minority government, but effectively he is, because so rampant is the indiscipline in his ranks that he can’t be sure his own troops will vote for his legislation, let alone convince the crossbench to pass it in the Senate.

Religious discrimination bit the dust after barely an hour of debate, shuffled off into a committee. Even the Christian fundamentalists are abandoning the bill. Class action curbs hit the fence, despite Zali Steggall backing them in the House. Voter ID was dumped altogether, a racist bill condemned to the garbage can it belongs in.

The government can’t pass its legislative agenda — but have a look at that agenda. Every one of those bills is a purely confected issue. There is no discrimination against religion in Australia. Curbs on class actions are intended to protect the government’s donors and supporters within board director ranks, not address a real issue. There is no problem of voting fraud in Australia (or in America, for that matter).

The government has no actual agenda addressing issues of substance — not on climate, not on wage stagnation, not on housing affordability, not on higher education, not even on defence, where the year has been marked by a major step backward in procurement of our next generation of submarines.

No wonder the government wants only a handful of sitting days in the first half of next year — it has no legislative agenda to pursue, even if it could be sure its own backbench would support it.

As quickly as the government was losing votes, it was losing ministers and ex-ministers. Couldabeen contenders Hunt and Porter going. And then the shock: Alan Tudge stood aside pending an investigation into allegations of abuse in his relationship with Rachelle Miller (allegations he rejects). The shock wasn’t that a man was alleged to have engaged in abuse of a woman with whom he was having a relationship, but that Scott Morrison thought the matter was politically damaging enough that he had to take action, even if the inquiry led by Vivienne Thom drags on into next year.

At least Morrison demonstrated some capacity to learn over the course of the year. The parliamentary year really began with Brittany Higgins’ remarkably brave decision to speak out about the alleged sexual assault she says she endured, and her treatment by the government thereafter. It ended with Rachelle Miller showing extraordinary courage — the kind politicians love to talk about but so rarely display — in speaking about what she says occurred in her relationship with Tudge.

Morrison’s grotesque mishandling of the Higgins matter — including some gutless staffers in his office backgrounding anonymously against her partner — did not repeat after Miller’s media conference; instead, Tudge was stood aside and an inquiry ordered.

If Morrison had been wise enough to do that with Christian Porter, the man would likely still be attorney-general.

In other ways, however, Morrison has learnt nothing. His response to the Jenkins report was wholly underwhelming, suggesting he still really has no grasp of the extent of the abuse of power going on right across Parliament. It’s always about the announcement with Morrison, never the substance. Part of his problems with his own backbench is that no one trusts him anymore; that they know Morrison’s commitments and promises to them are only as good as the next press conference; that his spin and words need to be ignored and action demanded instead.

No agenda, and no backbench support to pursue one. No substance. No leadership. And no trust.

Has Morrison learnt anything from his no good, very bad year? Let us know your thoughts by writing to letters@crikey.com.au. Please include your full name if you would like to be considered for publication in Crikey’s Your Say column. We reserve the right to edit for length and clarity.