BOB DOES A BOB

There was something unsettling about watching Bob Brown ask Bob Carr his first questions in the Senate several weeks ago, but it only became apparent why it was such a creepy experience with Brown's abrupt resignation last week. The reason, of course, is that these two characters are so similar. It was like Tweedle-di-dee criticizing Tweedle-di-dum. Like B1 having a go at B2. Or Herge’s Thompson and Thomson trying to outfox each other. Oddly unconvincing. So it came as no surprise that Bob-with-a-B decided to exit the political fray in precisely the same manner as Bob-with-a-C so deftly did all those years ago. Brown’s departure uncannily mirror’s Carr’s. Bob did a Bob.

The key to successfully doing a Bob is accurately gauging “the tipping point” (no, not that one) that occurs in all political stories. This is the moment just before the chickens come home to roost; where your achievements have yet to be recognized as hollow, self-serving shams that have done far more to harm the economic well-being of your electorate than any possible long-term good. If you jump at the right time the failures that you have instigated will be sheeted home to one – or indeed all - of your hapless successors. Doing a Bob requires a sense of timing as acute as that of any actor or sportsman. Nail it, and your threadbare achievements will be eulogized and your numerous errors glossed over, leaving a glowing legacy that you can put to good use while the electorate pick up the hefty bill.

Not surprisingly, both Bob's share many of the same physical and political traits, which they have used as powerful tools in their respective careers. Their height, the deep voices and the ramrod stance have given them both an air of statesman-like gravitas that their policies belied. The well-honed soundbites and attempts at humour have seen them both labeled as "good communicators." Yet both are awkwardly unfunny. Think of Carr’s tortuous “cheap hypnotist” routine, delivered in poor taste at a press conference on the Afghanistan massacre, or Brown’s “here comes the washing up” shtick. Strangely, their deadpan expressions, ponderous pontifications, quirky obsessions have been confused by fans as “charisma” or “intellect.” Neither man has ever shown any understanding of the hum-drum concerns of average working men and women, or the tedious nuts and bolts of a functioning infrastructure that the vast majority of the population rely upon for a satisfactory existence. Rather, the two Bob’s like to imagine themselves as out-of-this-world figures, saving the oceans and, of course, the planet. Alien civilisations, on this earth and elsewhere, are of great concern to them both. Bob’s role as a peacemaker in the centuries-old schism with Islam is only matched in self-delusional silliness by Bob’s role as intergalactic seer. The United Nations is the latest hobby of one, whilst a One World Parliament and expanding the Greens into Africa are the fantasies of the other.

When doing a Bob make sure you leave a crippling tax or two in place after you’re gone. For Carr it was the land and payroll taxes, which milked the boom years and have hampered NSW productivity ever since. Brown, of course, has gone much bigger. Interestingly, when you successfully do a Bob you yourself can side-step the irksome imposts you have inflicted upon everyone else. Carr quickly bought his second home in New Zealand, out of reach of his own Treasury, whilst if Brown pursues his global dreams, they’ll be unburdened by his own carbon price.

Both Bobs hate dams. Bob Brown’s saving of the Franklin may be the shiny spot on his CV, but it led to the demonizing of dams in this country, with hugely adverse effects on farming, industry and clean energy generation. Bob Carr was responsible for killing off the Welcome Reef dam, thereby condemning Sydney to water shortages and the farcical two billion-dollars wasted on the Kurnell desalination plant. Both Bobs have saved a lot of trees, but at a significant cost, with the Greens agenda and Carr’s own national parks leading to increased bushfire hazards and, obviously, unemployment.

In order to do a Bob, you must make your decision to step down appears spontaneous and unplanned. For Carr, it was “over a bottle of Chardonnay” that he chose to “spend more time with my wife” and get “more recreation.” "I've got no plans, no job offers," he claimed, only to quickly snaffle up a lucrative job offer from Macquarie Bank.

For Brown, it was “during a trip to Africa” that he decided he needed to “get out more with Paul” for “bushwalking and photography.”

Catching the commentariat and press gallery unawares allows you to write your own legacy. "This has been a solid chapter in the Australian story,” claimed Carr, “the Olympics, the environment, the massive capital works, the focus on education, comforting the families of the Bali victims and (securing) NSW against such an attack.” Er, if you say so, Bob.

Brown boasts of “fairly taxing the resources boom and carbon polluters, to uniquely enable (funding) of a national disabilities insurance scheme, the Gonski education reforms, Denticare, renewable energy businesses, (and) a High Speed Rail linking our major cities.” Really? We shall see.

The good thing about doing a Bob is that what politically occurs after you’re gone is irrelevant. If your less-talented colleagues start fighting amongst themselves, it only makes you look better. If they do badly in the next election – which by definition they will - it only makes your wins more impressive. Which is, of course, the key point in doing a Bob. What this apparently selfless and generous tactic enables you to do is to go out never having been voted out, thereby setting yourself up for the inevitable heroic comeback further down the track, preferably straight into a cushy job of your own choosing at the taxpayers expense that offers you a chance to indulge your fantasies on a far grander stage.

Want the world at your feet? Do a Bob.

THE LABOR MESSIAH (Spectator Easter leader)

The search for a messiah to lead them out of the wilderness will certainly intensify within Labor ranks if not before the next election then certainly the day afterwards.

Call it the curse of Gough, but Labor, more so than any other political party, constantly seeks a mystical leader capable of inspiring the masses. Whether it be the “light on the hill” or the Tree of Knowledge, the “greatest moral challenge” or “true believers,” Labor mythology likes to imbue events and personalities with qualities above and beyond those of mere mortals.

However great the left’s heroes may or may not have been, what the last two decades has shown is that the Labor Party struggles to draw a distinction between the statesman, the showman, and the shaman.

Bob Carr was arguably a great media performer in his heyday, but the way he is being wheeled out now on every occasion and on any subject is increasingly embarrassing to watch – akin to a ham actor struggling to pull off his old stage tricks.

Bill Shorten’s frequent media appearances also have an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu about them, as he attempts to channel Bob Hawke – the pragmatic reconciler of the great divisions between the working and managerial classes. What such an act forgets is that the unions, although desperately important to the Labor Party, bear very little relevance to working Australians, other than as the butt of gags about credit cards and prostitutes.

Displaying all the warmth and empathy of Nosferatu in Clark Kent glasses, fellow ex-union boss Greg Combet also falls well short of delivering on messianic appeal. Stephen Smith is, well, Stephen Smith. Crean comes across like a contender for the next series of Grumpy Old Men.

Wayne Swan, who played Judas to Rudd’s futile attempt at messianic resurrection, clearly sees himself as a potential savior. His recent Sermon in the Monthly and attacks in the temple of public opinion on the money lenders and mining magnates were blatant pitches to the unions to support him. What he fails to understand is that the voters – particularly in the crucial Queensland seats –will never forgive his betrayal of one of their own.

Forget the blokes. Penny Wong and Nicola Roxon will be the ones to watch post-Julia.

To the spin merchants of Sussex Street, it is the spokesperson who is more important than the product they are trying to sell. The faceless men and women (surely in a progressive party such as the ALP there can be faceless women, too?) still seem incapable of understanding that it is the policies, not the politician, that ultimately triumphs.

Labor still hopes that the carbon tax – an anomalous economic “reform” born of a blatant lie and a cynical backroom deal – will be their road to salvation, as money flows into the economy by way of “compensation.” Thirty pieces of silver for each and every working family.

In all likelihood, the voters will take the money but wash their hands of the mob that gave it to them. Labor, slowly but surely, will be crucified on a cross of its own making.

THE CREAM CURDLES (Spectator leader March 30)

Labor and the Greens are now locked in a macabre dance, reminiscent of the film “They Shoot Horses Don’t They?” where contestants have to keep on going even though they know each step is killing them.

Regardless of who leads it, modern Labor is fatally wedged on virtually every decision it faces. Quite simply, no policy can serve both the needs and wants of urban working families and also satisfy the inner-city elitist Green agenda. Their values are mutually incompatible.

The decision by Julia Gillard to “co-invest” in Holden to the tune of $275 million (much of which goes as a payrise to the unions) is just the latest example of the hopeless dilemma Labor has set for itself in its accommodation with Bob Brown. Why “save” a carbon-intensive product and company, and then introduce a tax whose sole purpose is to destroy it? Who’s kidding who? As with the recent job losses in aluminum smelting, the Gillard camp seem determined to convince not only themselves but also their two key – and opposing - constituencies of the biggest furphy of them all – that tackling climate change won’t have an impact on prosperity.

Take any policy issue from border control, to live cattle exports, from pokies reform to mining. The left side of the Labor brain (creating working class jobs and improving blue-collar standards of living) is directly at odds with the right side of the brain (pandering to wildly expensive inner-city fads and anti-growth obsessions.) The schism goes right to the heart of the beast, paralyzing its every move. Over the next 18 months, as our competitiveness, and our economic and employment growth continue to fall, the discrepancy will only become more profound. The great white hope of “renewables industries” and “sustainable jobs” designed to reconcile this rift is nothing but spin. The working classes already know it in their gut.

The Queensland annihilation, as with its NSW precursor, should have ripped the scales from the eyes of those in power in Canberra, yet clearly it hasn’t. So deep-rooted is the self-delusion (perhaps Bob Carr was right about the hypnotist, just wrong about which tent he’s performing in) that federal Labor carries on waltzing towards political oblivion.

The Greens, so long as they hold the balance of power federally, will ensure that Labor continue to be ripped asunder by the two opposing objectives of “saving jobs” and “saving the planet.” Increasingly, the outer suburbs witness manufacturing and other job losses whilst in Surry Hills all the talk is of hosting dinner parties in the dark. Hoping to pull off one of the biggest sleights of hand of all time, Labor are praying that shoving cash into people’s pockets through the “compensation packages” will fool enough voters into ignoring the obvious: that the taxes kill jobs.

To borrow Kim Beazley Snr’s memorable phrase, Labor are torn between representing the cream of the working classes and the dregs of the middle class. In four states now, the cream has curdled.

CARR AND CARLYLE (Spectator leader March 23)

“I don’t pretend to understand the universe,” wrote Thomas Carlyle, the 19^th century Scottish satirist, “it’s a great deal bigger than I am… people ought to be modester.” It’s advice that, perhaps, our new Foreign Minister might care to think about.

Only two weeks into the job, Bob has already boasted of his desire to heal the rift between Islam and the West (1500 years in the making), tidy up the oceans (a million or so years in the making), solve the problem of self-immolating Tibetan monks (1200 years in the making), sort out Labor’s nuclear energy dilemma (40 years in the making) and stop dead in its tracks the rise of Tony Abbott (two years in the making.)

Not to mention coughing up to help a Sydney couple with their hefty million dollar hospital bill following the birth of their premature baby in Canada that Bob hopes to take care of. With our money, presumably.

All of which would be extremely laudable except for one tiny caveat. The only foray Bob has actually made into what is, after all, the most important function of his new role – ensuring smooth relationships with our closest neighbours - ended in embarrassment and humiliation all round.

“As I said to Foreign Minister Pala… my recent comments have been misunderstood and used out of context,” the good senator claimed, falling back on spin (surprise, surprise) to cover up what was an arrogant and foolish error – in his first week, no less - that no experienced diplomat would ever allow to occur.

Bob Carr’s ambitions have always outstripped his abilities. It’s no good being a “policy wonk” if nothing substantial emerges from your ponderings and pontifications. Ten years as Premier of our most important state is a long time in which you would expect a man of Carr’s promise to actually notch up a few historic runs on the board. Particularly given his unfettered power (there were never any Rudd or Turnbull –style rivals to trouble him) and a Treasury awash with real estate boom dividends. Yet apart from Nikki Webster dangling over the crowds in Homebush and 120,000 hectares of bush-fire prone National Parks, the student of NSW political history struggles to find any earth-shatteringly impressive achievements from his time in office. Certainly nothing on a par with his recently-stated lofty goals.

It’s all very well to go overboard on the Samuel P. Huntington and despair of “the dystopic nightmare of a clash of civilisations” or to try and out-do Tim Flannery by whipping up fear about the “tipping point” and “emergence of huge dead areas'' of the oceans. But, like his predecessor Kevin Rudd, the impression left is that Carr is running his own agenda, hurriedly preparing his CV in the hope of following mentor Gareth Evans into a cushy career in Brussels or Geneva if Labor loses the next election.

As Thomas Carlyle also observed: "A man lives by believing something; not by debating and arguing about many things."

A CONFUSION OF CONTRADICTIONS (Spectator leader March 10)

“It’s very unhealthy for you to go back and look at things I said previously. You’ll only get confused with contradictions,” our new Foreign Minister said, in what sounded like bizarre medical advice or a mafia-style threat.

''(I) have to have one view and that's the official view of the government. The views I now have will be formed by discussions with professional diplomats,” he claimed; which is a shame, because many of his personal views are to be commended. We have previously praised him for his balanced approach to China and America. His friendship with Israel is to be applauded, as is his tactless but accurate observation of the Arab world as “politically retarded.” But if he abandons these insights and convictions, what qualifies him for the job?

The answer is his “communications skills.” Apparently, the role of Foreign Minister is essentially a media one, with the hard, political decisions being left to (dare we say it?) a “faceless” group of bureaucrats and party machine men.

Bob Carr has always been an enigma. And a survivor. The contradictions aren’t only in what he has written and said. Preaching blue-collar values he was more than happy to snaffle up a job at Macquarie Bank. Having decimated the “second home” market in NSW, he promptly bought himself a holiday house in New Zealand, out of reach of his own punitive taxes. A popular Premier, he shirked the tough infrastructure decisions, whilst boasting of creating endless National Parks. His greatest achievement, arguably, was knowing when to jump - just before the public realized the hull of the good ship NSW was full of holes.

Let’s hope he brings his acute sense of timing to helping solve some of the confusing contradictions he faces in his latest incarnation.

HE HAD HER AT HELLO (Fin Review March 5)

It’s a marriage made in Labor heaven. The Master of Spin hooks up with the Mistress of the Backroom Deal. Two needy, lonely hearts, who in embracing, compensate for each others glaring deficiencies. As Renee Zellweger said to Tom Cruise in chick-flick ‘Jerry MaGuire’: “You complete me.”

For Julia Gillard, her debilitating inability to connect with the public will now be handed over to the man of the mellifluous voice and head-line grabbing soundbites, while her complete lack of political nous will be more than compensated for by the wily former Premier’s almost canine-like knack of sniffing every nuance floating on the political breeze.

For Bob Carr, who has fantasised about this job but was never prepared to put in the hard yards to earn it, he now has the queen of the late night negotiations doing the dirty work for him, leaving him free to pester the newsroom in the wee hours of the morning before he “shoots off” overseas. Of course, the fact that he is able to waltz into one of the cushiest, most high-profile gigs in Australia without actually having broken into a sweat says all you need to know about the political quagmire that is our current federal cabinet.

Bob Carr is the architect, interior designer and chief salesman of one of the least attractive governments in NSW history; the eyesore on the political landscape that was the 1995-2010 Labor government. His record in government is woeful, with Sydney’s infrastructure shamefully neglected during his decade in power. Now, as well as wallowing in a highly-paid job with Macquarie Bank, he is an avid student and blogger on foreign affairs. This is probably the first time in our history that this most coveted and critical ministerial position has been awarded to someone simply because it’s their hobby. It's like putting the builder of Redfern’s notorious, recently-demolished Block onto the Architectural Council just because his favourite TV show is 'Grand Designs.'

Carr's 1995 "written in blood" pre-election promise to resign if he didn't halve hospital waiting lists within twelve months was as brazen as Gillard’s "there will be no carbon tax under the government I lead." The waiting lists soared, while Carr unblushingly stayed put. But where Gillard has been brought to her knees by her foolish pre-election promise, Carr’s mastery of spin saw him slip out unscathed. No wonder she’s a fan.

Similarly, his eleventh hour promise to scrap M4 and M5 tolls - a commitment that saw two crucial Liberal seats in Western Sydney fall to Labor and thereby put Carr in Macquarie street by one seat - was abandoned straight after that same election. According to former Roads Minister Michael Knight, in Marilyn Dodkin’s ‘Bob Carr: The Reluctant Leader’: “The toll was a big mega-example of a broken promise. It wasn’t the toll per se that was hurting us, it was the character trait of breaking promises and of being untrustworthy and shifty.” Sound familiar?

The current federal government have earned themselves a formidable reputation for grandiose promises that are casually dumped into the ‘too-hard’ basket post-election (last weeks axing of solar rebate springs to mind, along with the ETS, cash-for-clunkers, grocery watch and so on) but Gillard and Rudd are mere babes in the wood when it comes to Bob Carr's track record of ditching promises and avoiding commitments. A master of timing, Carr sensed precisely the right moment to jump before the public realized that the Good Ship NSW was riddled with holes.

Carr and Treasurer Michael Egan were the Gillard and Swan of their day when it came to lazily relying on "taxing the boom" to account for supposed sound economic management. For Carr, Sydney's 1990's real estate bonanza provided a never-ending cascade of ready cash. Quick to capitalize on it, the pair introduced the unpopular NSW Land Tax (decried at the time as a wealth tax, death tax, investment tax and envy tax all rolled into one) followed by the greedy and short-lived Vendor Tax. According to Dodkins, “Carr was seen as a Robin Hood, taking from the rich to give to the poor. He revelled in (it).” In much the same way, Gillard and Swan are revelling in the promise of milking the resources boom and re-distributing the nation’s wealth through the mining and carbon taxes. Wayne Swan’s recent attack on “tycoons” makes it clear that he, too, views himself in the Robin Hood camp. Julia, presumably, will be happy to play Maid Marion.

Already, Carr has put to good use his booming voice and new-found relevance to spruik Julia’s favourite obsession. “The horror of an Abbott-led government,” was his first classic sound grab, eagerly lapped up the newsroom.

No wonder he had her at ‘hello’.

CONTEMPTIBLE (Spectator leader Jan 27)

“I hold myself in contempt!” shouted Jim Carrey, in the 1997 film Liar Liar, in which he found himself cursed to tell the truth after a lifetime of hiding behind evasion, half-truths and outright porkies.

A sequel could well feature our very own Julia Gillard. After all, she clearly holds her own word in complete contempt, having repeatedly shown a talent for blithely abandoning previous promises and commitments.

Sussex Street’s fondness for breaking election commitments, wasting time and resources on ‘trials’ and the like simply to postpone a difficult problem, trashing expensive projects at whim and generally treating politician’s promises as flexible or even expendable now appears to be the blueprint for Labor in Canberra.

The rot set in with NSW Premier Bob Carr. “It is an iron-clad guarantee. I'll sign it in blood if you want," he said, pledging to halve hospital waiting lists within twelve months or resign. He also promised to scrap motorway tolls in two Liberal-held western Sydney seats - which resulted in him securing government by one seat. (Sound familiar?) Of course, waiting lists went up, not down, there was no bloody resignation, and the tolls remained firmly in place. Over the following decade, Carr and his increasingly brazen minders discovered they could promise pretty much whatever they felt like – trains, hospitals, highways, buses - without any intention of delivering. It took NSW voters sixteen years to wake up to the concept of ‘spin.’

Those same minders now sit on Gillard’s front bench, so it’s hardly surprising that the idea of honouring your word doesn’t carry much weight with this government. The Gillard-Swan promise to never introduce a carbon tax was not only broken, but “justified” with further obfuscation and hair-splitting semantics. “Yes, I did say that but circumstances have changed,” Gillard said, before adding: “What my vision was, was to be elected as prime minister and to introduce an emissions trading scheme, which is not a carbon tax.”  Oh, so that’s alright then.

Peter Garrett, although he now claims he was only joking, famously (and accurately) showed his own contempt for the Howard-lite Kevin07 pre-election commitments: "Once we get in we'll just change it all."

Penny Wong has been quick to play word games around the latest broken promise. "This is a Prime Minister who can be trusted to get the job done," she said – neatly twisting the meaning of ‘trust.’ And from Stephen Conroy, showing the degree to which he holds logic and straight talking in contempt: "It's a minority government – it’s not about promising something we couldn't keep.” Um, but wasn’t it the promise that created the minority government?

Even members of her own party obviously hold Gillard’s word in contempt, with the ugly boast by Craig Thomson that the broken pokies promise is a victory for the backroom deals of NSW Labor MP’s.

With such disregard for honouring your word, at the end of the day it’s pretty clear that it is the voters whom Labor actually hold in contempt.