Here's an idea. In order to improve the confidence of the public in democracy, the federal government should embed "Taxpayer Compliance Officers" in cabinet and the Expenditure Review Committee. The role of such officers would be three-fold. They would have a general responsibility for ensuring taxpayers' money was spent efficiently and not wasted, they would ensure compliance with all the processes and procedures appropriate to good government, and finally the officers would be proactive and would be charged with stopping bad policies before they were implemented.
Taxpayer Compliance Officers would sit in on cabinet meetings, pop in to the Prime Minister's office to ask question the PM and the PM's staff, and would read and vet all cabinet submissions. Officers would be embedded for up to three months at a time and would be regularly rotated to avoid them getting too close to ministers and public servants. Once a year, Taxpayer Compliance Officers would issue a public report detailing how the government was complying with its responsibilities to taxpayers.
Without doubt such a scheme would be immensely popular. Taxpayer Compliance Officers would help satisfy the public's demand that government be more accountable and transparent, and the scheme would go a long way to demonstrating to the community that governments were complying with the social licence to operate. The involvement of Taxpayer Compliance Officers in every aspect and at every level of government decision-making would ensure that government acted in the best interests of the community and not simply for the benefit of whichever political party happened to be in power at the time.
If Taxpayer Compliance Officers were already in place, they'd be able to explain to the public the process for the decision of the federal government to give nearly half a billion dollars of taxpayers' funds to an organisation with six full-time staff, the Great Barrier Reef Foundation, without a tender process and without the Foundation even asking for the money.
Such a scheme would overturn most of the principles of representative and parliamentary democracy, but many would argue that the public's trust in politicians is now so low that drastic times call for drastic measures.
Taxpayer Compliance Officers sounds like a radical idea — but it isn't. On Tuesday, the Turnbull government announced such a scheme to apply to the private sector, whereby staff from the Australian Securities and Investments Commission will be embedded in banks. At his press conference when the Treasurer, Scott Morrison, was questioned about the scheme — "Treasurer, can I ask, if it will work, can it be extended to other sectors, like mining companies, insurance companies, super funds you heard are problematic too?" — the Treasurer replied: "We have an open mind on all of these things. Take the Banking Executive Accountability Regime. I've flagged very clearly that we're keen to extend that into other sectors once we've stood up the model and it's working ..."
The Banking Executive Accountability Regime gives the government the power to decide who financial institutions can employ in executive positions and how much those executives can be paid.
What will be left of the free enterprise system in Australia after the Coalition government is finished with it is anyone's guess.
If the Coalition is going to start embedding government officials to monitor and control non-government organisations, there's no reason why the Coalition should stop at the banks. Before Labor rushes to embrace the government's plan for the banks, it might stop to consider its reaction to the Office of the Australian Building and Construction Commissioner embedding its staff in the headquarters of the Construction, Forestry, Maritime, Mining and Energy Union or the Australian Prudential Regulation Authority embedding its staff in the offices of industry superannuation funds.
In these pages yesterday, Professor Rodney Maddock of the Monash Business School outlined in convincing and persuasive detail why the federal government is so bad. As he wrote in relation to the government's regulation of the finance sector — "There are fundamental issues of privacy, of private ownership, of the freedom to run a business, and of responsibility for the outcomes, which need to be discussed."
Unfortunately that's a discussion the Turnbull government at the moment either doesn't understand, or doesn't want to have — or both.
Security fees create a heckler's veto: the charge empowers the people who disagree to organise the biggest, most aggressive and therefore costliest protest they can muster. The Liberal club could ultimately be forced to cancel the event if security fees become too high. In the end, the censors win, free speech loses.
Not shy of the publicity, Ersson broadcast the affair live on Facebook and subsequently received substantial international media attention. The usual suspects have held Ersson up
The new organisation will be known as Nine.
An unemployed journalist who once worked for a newspaper that's gone out of business isn't doing much to add to media diversity. That's the reality that those who harken back to the days before the internet, Instagram, and mobile phones fail to grasp.
The Fairfax/Nine merger is also a win for taxpayers. It should put to rest, for the time being, the suggestion contemplated last year during the Senate inquiry into the future of public interest journalism that taxpayers should provide financial assistance to bail out ailing newspaper companies. It's ironic that it is often suggested that one way of ensuring the existence of an "independent" media is to have the government fund it.
For proof of this, consider the so-called GST "reform" proposed by Federal Treasurer Scott Morrison earlier this month. Morrison's proposal followed the recommendations made by the Productivity Commission to tinker with the formula that underlies the distribution of GST revenue, the already complex process known as "horizontal fiscal equalisation".
When I lived in Sweden, I would watch football with my Swedish mate Rob and struggle with some of the Swedish players' names. Even now, I cannot roll an "r", let alone roll one into the Swedish "g", as in the common name "Berg" — which sounds more like our word "berry" than something into which you might crash a ship. Once, Rob asked, perhaps redundantly, why English commentators never try to say Swedish names properly. I could only tell him that most people don't know they are saying the names incorrectly, and even if they did know, they would likely pronounce them about as well as me. Being Swedish, Rob found this reasonable. Others, apparently, do not.
In 2015 I was set to die. I had an incurable form of Chronic Lymphocytic Leukaemia from which I'd relapsed after chemotherapy failed. But for a 46-year-old with three children, death was not an option.
Avi Shavit was invited to speak at Macquarie University about cybersecurity. He has 25 years of experience in the field, including in the military, software industry, investment banking, entrepreneurship, and consulting for the Israeli government and the European Commission. Shavit's experience was irrelevant to Macquarie academics who put his religious and national background foremost in their mind.
Elite decision-makers live with the existential guilt associated with their good fortune to live remarkably free and prosperous lives. They cannot abide that so many further down the social hierarchy do not share that guilt, being as they are concerned with such quotidian matters as scraping together a living, trying to keep the government's hands off what they do earn while keeping a family fed and housed.
Australia's universities are facing a serious reputational crisis. The more universities become aligned with a single line of political thought, the more the community will wonder, rightly, why billions of taxpayer dollars fund these institutions.