Interests shape policy more than voters

 

You spotted snakes with double tongue,

Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;

Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,

Come not near our fairy queen.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 2, Scene 2.

  

A few days ago, trudging in misty rain through a field near the village of Tintagel in Cornwall, I came across a recently deceased hedgehog. It had been flattened by a tractor. This put me in mind of the Greek poet Archilocus’ aphorism: "a fox knows many things, but a hedgehog knows one big thing".

 

The philosopher Isaiah Berlin wrote a famous essay, The Hedgehog and the Fox, categorising thinkers and writers as either hedgehogs who interpret the world through a single overarching idea or theory, or foxes who are open to multiple theoretical explanations in explaining events.

 

It strikes me that most policymakers and analysts — not just in the Indigenous policy domain — are prone to being hedgehogs of one sort or another, often without realising it. I don’t exclude myself from this generalisation. If true, one obvious implication is that complexity is systematically overlooked. Another less obvious implication is that particular big ideas become so embedded and ubiquitous that we unconsciously constrain our analyses to processes and options that implicitly assume the correctness or validity of the particular big idea to which we subscribe, and thus ignore the potential influence of alternative big ideas. It is this less obvious implication that I explore here.

 

One particular big idea that is widely assumed to be innately correct is that our system of electoral democracy is of paramount importance in shaping policy outcomes.

 

A recent CAEPR research publication, Indigenous electoral power in the 2022 Federal election: a geographical snapshot of latent potential,  by Francis Markham and Bhiamie Williamson (link here) is just one of numerous examples I could point to which reinforce the big idea that electoral democracy is crucial and/or paramount in framing policy. The consequence is that these analyses implicitly shift focus away from alternative, and potentially more relevant, influences on policy formation.

 

Markham and Williamson’s analysis is at once straightforward and eye-opening. They analyse Indigenous voting participation and persuasively demonstrate that notwithstanding the existence of compulsory voting, the national Indigenous electoral participation rate is extremely low. They estimate it to be around 44%. To my mind this is the most significant policy implication of their excellent analysis, and one deserving of much more attention from policy analysts.

 

However, Markham and Williamson have a different point to make. They go on to compare the winning margins in particular electorates in the recent Federal election (they focus particularly on ten electorates: see Table 3) with an estimate of the estimated Indigenous voting eligible population (VEP). Their detailed analysis demonstrates that there is a theoretical opportunity to mobilise both existing Indigenous voters and electorally disengaged Indigenous citizens, which if successfully implemented could determine electoral outcomes in multiple electorates across remote, regional and even urban Australia. They argue this represents unrealised Indigenous voting power, and conclude, contra the extant dominant narrative of Indigenous electoral powerlessness, that this latent electoral power ‘has significant potential to be assembled in exchange for policy reform or Indigenous representation’.

 

A critique of Markham and Williamson’s argument is feasible, based the undoubted challenges involved in assembling such an Indigenous electoral constituency. These challenges presumably include arguments that Indigenous heterogeneity, including political heterogeneity, is so deeply embedded that it would preclude the assembly of such a constituency; or that Indigenous electoral disengagement is in fact a rational and intentional response by potential Indigenous voters to the ubiquity of political exclusion.

 

My intention however is not to critique this research on its own terms, as it is clearly extremely valuable in understanding the level of Indigenous engagement with the electoral system. While they forego this path, their analysis opens a portal to further analysis that might seek to understand both the reasons for this disengagement, and the consequences. This should be an issue of major concern to both governments and the community at large as it may foreshadow much more widespread disenchantment with the electoral system itself amongst the wider community (link here).

 

Rather, I suggest that by focussing on voting and electoral participation as a pathway to greater political and policy influence, Markham and Williamson have implicitly reinforced the big idea that electoral democracy is crucial in shaping policy outcomes.

 

I take a different view. Elections are important, inter alia because they are the mechanism we use to choose the executive arm of government, and to also choose the Parliament which enacts new laws (and repeals old laws). Yet our system of representative democracy also operates in informal ways. The Executive dominates the legislature, often prioritises political considerations over the public interest, and most importantly, is itself influenced by, and at times captured by, or co-opted by, powerful corporate interests (link here and link here).

 

In fact, once you start looking, the determinative influence of interest groups on policy are ubiquitous, including in the Indigenous policy domain. Why did the Hawke Government’s proposals for national land rights fail? Why is there no mining veto in the Native Title Act? Why did the Federal Environment Minister not take action to prevent the destruction of Jukuun Gorge? Why did the NT Government seek to ignore its Licencing Regulator and allow a major alcohol outlet to be built near Aboriginal camps in Darwin? (link here). Why has the NT Government recently reversed 14 years of policy to implement a policy that nudges remote communities towards allowing alcohol in previously dry communities (link here).

 

Moreover, the collateral damage amongst vulnerable and Indigenous citizens as interest groups pursue their interests in mainstream contexts are also considerable: Why are punitive policing and incarceration the first ports of call in the administration of justice in Indigenous contexts? Why are social security payments maintained below the poverty line? Why are funds available for tax cuts targeted primarily at high income owners, but not for essential services and housing in remote communities? (link here). Why do governments fail to adequately fund the policies required to close the gap? (link here).

 

Of course (to adopt some fox like traits), not everything is explained by the role of external and powerful corporate interest groups: politicians develop strong views, often ideologically determined; partisan politics rather than interest group advocacy can determine particular policy approaches; and some Indigenous interest groups within the Indigenous domain exert influence over policy.

 

Nevertheless, it is my contention that the big idea of democratic electoral politics being the primary pathway to policy influence in today’s Australia is deeply flawed. An alternative big idea, that interest groups, together and individually, shape most significant policy should replace it or be added to the mix.

 

This leads me to the view that the pathway to greater policy influence and ultimately greater inclusion and political power within Australian society for Indigenous interests lies in building robust and independent Indigenous advocacy capability. To do this requires building Indigenous advocacy institutions independent of direct government funding and support. Implicit in this idea is the notion that the influence and power of mainstream interests must be countered and alternative policy narratives proposed and advocated at the genesis of policy proposals. Moreover, an effective Indigenous advocacy capability would operate to ‘plough the ground’ with politicians and policymakers in advance of particular issues arising to ensure good channels of communication exist and can be available when needed. This is not rocket science; it is exactly what key interests such as the National Farmers Federation or the Minerals Council, or the scores of lesser interest group organisations do now. 

 

Assuming my assessment has merit, what are the implications for key existing and proposed institutions in the Indigenous policy domain?

 

The first point to make is that the National Agreement on Closing the Gap, and the emergence of the Coalition of Indigenous Peaks has been, and should continue to be, an extraordinarily important step in the direction of building a robust Indigenous advocacy capability in Australia. I have discussed this in some detail previously (link here). Nevertheless, it is still in its infancy and will take at least ten years to reach the level of effectiveness required to begin to meet its full potential. Moreover it faces considerable challenges going forward, not least transitioning from its current leadership that has built it from the ground up, to a second generation leadership focussed on embedding and strengthening the substantial and in many respects extraordinary gains made to date. Additional challenges include strengthening its financial independence as insurance against future co-option by governments (it is presently entirely funded by government), and strengthening its internal coherence given that its membership comprises some fifty or so sector specific peak bodies, each with their own agenda for prioritising the Coalition’s focus and efforts.

 

A key reason that the Coalition of Peaks is so important is that it effectively covers and has expertise in the broad expanse of policy, from health, ageing, housing to criminal justice, disability, alcohol policy, human rights, social security and native title. This extraordinary policy breadth is increasingly impacted by mainstream policies, thus ensuring a logarithmic growth curve in policy complexity that must be mastered to ensure it is working in the interests of Indigenous citizens, particularly the most vulnerable of them.

 

The second development is the near certainty that a referendum to amend the constitution to require the establishment of an Indigenous Voice will be held next year, and if successful, that legislation will be enacted to create such a Voice.

 

The currently proposed text of the amendment (link here) is as follows:

There shall be a body, to be called the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice.

The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice may make representations to Parliament and the Executive Government on matters relating to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples.

The Parliament shall, subject to this Constitution, have power to make laws with respect to the composition, functions, powers and procedures of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice.

 

It is presently unclear how the membership of a Voice would be selected, though it seems likely that it will involve elections of members wither directly or in some tiered arrangement where regional elected bodies choose a representative such as was used by ATSIC.

 

While it seems likely that many of the members of the national Voice will have policy expertise and experience, the reality will be that very few will have broad policy experience across multiple sectors, and the complexity of the policy issues the Voice will confront will be daunting. The stark reality is that members of any national level Voice will inevitably rely on access to the views of Indigenous organisations (interests) dealing with the particular issues under consideration, and these views are most likely to be best developed by the peak bodies dealing with those issues.

 

My core point is that for Indigenous interests to be effectively advocated, the proposed Voice, and the existing Coalition of Peaks are necessarily complementary, and will need to work together and in tandem. This point is valid whichever of the two big ideas discussed above are paramount. But it is especially the case if it is accepted that the advocacy of interest groups are more important than the operation of the institutions of representative democracy in shaping policy.

 

In February 2021, I posted an article (link here) arguing that any Voice would require a substantial research capability, and arguing that it would be undesirable to give the Voice a remit beyond advice to Parliament. This post is worth reading or re-reading. I maintain the views expressed in that post, while recognising that the temptation to give the Voice a wider remit is difficult for both Indigenous proponents and governments to resist.

 

My earlier post also argued that Indigenous interests should advocate for a mechanism to ensure that whichever design is chosen by the Parliament in the near term or the longer term, it is not able to be starved of financial resources. A failure to achieve some level of financial independence means that future governments will be able to use the carrot or stick of funding to influence and co-opt the Voice.

 

Whether the Voice’s remit is limited to Parliament or extends to the Executive as well, it will still be the case that the Voice and the Coalition of Peaks are complementary and synergistically related. It would be a simplistic misreading to argue that they are duplicate. To make a rough analogy, the existence of the NFF does not mean that National Party representation in Parliament is not seen as important by primary production interests, and nor does the existence of substantial parliamentary representation mean that the NFF does not have a role to play in advancing primary producer interests. The same duality applies to the Indigenous domain in the context of the Voice.

 

To return to where I began, the hedghog’s big idea is that it can rely on its spines and its ability to roll into a ball to protect itself from most predators. Yet this survival strategy evolved in an environment where tractors were unknown.

 

If the Indigenous leadership base their long term strategy on the big idea that electoral processes are the secret to shaping better policies, they run the risk that they will be flattened by the tractor of mainstream interest group dominance. The solution is to build the capability to counter mainstream interest group influence with sophisticated and sustained Indigenous advocacy insulated against co-option by governments or others. In my view, this will require that the Voice, the Coalition of Peaks, and other significant Indigenous organisations work in tandem. In the absence of such coordinated leadership, Indigenous interests will likely continue to be marginalised, and their influence in shifting the embedded structural imbalances within the Australian polity will be constrained and sub-optimal.

Paying the rent: policy or politics?

 

I do the wrong and first begin to brawl.

The secret mischiefs that I set abroach

I lay unto the grievous charge of others.

Richard III, Act 1, scene 3

 

Francis Markham and Michael Klerck’s recent CAEPR Topical Issues paper, Simplifying the system or deepening poverty? The new Remote Rent Framework in the Northern Territory (link here) analyses the Northern Territory Government’s proposal to change rent collection for all remote housing stock across the NT. This will involve a shift from a rental rebate scheme which caps rents for social housing across the NT (and most other jurisdictions) at 25 percent of the tenant’s income to a flat rate fee of $70 per bedroom.

 

I don’t propose to summarise Markham and Klerck’s excellent analysis in detail, and urge interested readers to read their admirably incisive paper. Rather my purpose is to raise some broader structural issues that I suspect underpin the motivation for these proposed changes in the NT and suggest a way forward.

 

Markham and Klerck note in their introduction that:

The new remote rent framework and the cessation of the rebated rent means that comparable urban tenancies will become cheaper than their remote counterparts. The cessation of remote rebated rent will disproportionately disadvantage Aboriginal people, as this policy spatially targets an almost exclusively Aboriginal population. As we briefly discuss in this paper, this raises the question of potential indirect racial discrimination.  

 

An important element of the proposed changes discussed in some detail in the CAEPR paper is the proposed shift to making a single ‘head tenant’ responsible for all rent obligations rather than the current arrangements that require the housing department to pursue arrangements to facilitate all tenants in receipt of social security making a contribution through automatic deductions from their payments.

 

Markham and Klerck make two other broad arguments: that the proposed changes will increase poverty in remote NT communities, and that the proposed arrangements may well be in breach of the Racial Discrimination Act. On both counts, these changes should be considered indefensible and thus bad policy.

 

There are two broad implications implicit in these changes that are not explored in any detail by Markham and Klerck.

 

First, the implications on the ground (as opposed to within the Housing Agency in Darwin) of shifting to a head tenant model are potentially socially destructive. It is unclear where the incidence of the proposed changes will fall (i.e. who will ultimately pay the rent), and nor is it clear whether the changes will create an incentive for head tenants to actively encourage additional residents within their house, thus increasing overcrowding. In effect, the NT Government is proposing to shift responsibility for a large element of tenancy management away from Government and onto the head tenants in particular and remote communities in general. This will inevitably add to the psychological stress of being the head tenant, and opens up potential for financial abuse of residents by head tenants. This responsibility shifting will save costs for the Housing Agency, but does so by imposing considerable and potentially excessive social and psychological costs on remote communities.

 

Second, Markham and Klerck describe in detail how the current rental framework is based on differential rents for dwellings of different quality. The shift to the new rental framework discards these differential arrangements. See Table 1 in the CAEPR paper. While the changes clearly impact more severely on the residents of older dwellings (a key driver of the poverty impacts identified by Markham and Klerck), they also have an adverse impact on administration of remote public housing. In particular, the new arrangements remove much of the incentive on the NT Government to improve the quality of sub-optimal housing in remote communities, and remove the implicit acknowledgment that resourcing of property and tenancy management (PTM) is suboptimal.

 

This research paper makes a powerful case against the implementation of the proposed new rent framework, and deserves to be read by all those interested in understanding remote Indigenous housing. However, the recommendation for a moratorium on implementation of the new framework, while worthwhile, is in my view too narrowly focussed on the details of the new proposals. In any case, the likelihood of the NT Government shifting course on this issue without serious external pressure is close to zero.

 

The issues the CAEPR research has identified are in most respects the results of the structural issues that pervade the remote housing sector. These include gross and longstanding underinvestment by governments in addressing overcrowding, and in ensuring that existing remote housing assets are adequately managed and maintained (link here). Additionally, recent research cited in earlier posts on this Blog (link here) point to extraordinary levels of power disconnections in remote housing and the likelihood of substantial increases in temperatures across northern Australia over coming decades. This research identifies major issues with managing access to power in remote communities particularly to ensure food security and access for medical purposes in circumstances where power disconnections are rampant.

 

In my view, the responsibility for addressing these issues falls primarily to the Commonwealth for three reasons. First, housing is central to much of the structural dysfunction that exists in remote Australia (link here), and involves complex interaction ion between functional responsibilities of all three levels of government. In particular, the social security system is central to the administration of social housing in remote Australia, as the Markham and Klerck paper demonstrates. Second, the Commonwealth is a major funder of social housing nationally and utilises its financial leverage to shape policy frameworks in the states and territories. Third, the states and Territory lack the political will to effectively address these issues, and in the NT’s case, they clearly lack the financial capability.

 

While there have been a number of reviews of the remote housing sector over the past decades, they have all been focussed on the administration of government programs, and none have been truly independent of government.

 

The case for greater financial investment in remote housing provision is indisputable, and a failure to do so would be short sighted. For a social democratic political party such as the ALP to fail to effectively address these issues when in Government would be indefensible as it would continue the effective economic, social and political exclusion of remote Indigenous communities. The political and economic reality however is that the new Labor Government is unlikely to commit the resources required given the fiscal challenges it currently faces on multiple fronts.

 

In these circumstances, and as a first step, it is beyond time for the Commonwealth to commission a comprehensive and truly independent national review of remote housing that encompasses the social, economic and environmental challenges facing residents (a bottom up perspective) as well as the (top down) administrative and financial challenges facing governments. Such a review needs to be constituted in such a way as to allow it to consider innovative approaches to the finance, design and administration of remote housing.

An innovative design idea for the Indigenous Voice to Parliament

 

                                We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

Hamlet Act 3, scene 4.

 

I have previously posted a number of times on aspects of the proposed Voice first outlined in the 2017 Uluru Statement from the Heart (indirectly link here and more directly link here). I recommend readers scan both those posts as they provide very useful background and I have not sought to traverse the ground they cover here.

 

A constitutionally enshrined Voice requires both a successful referendum and legislation to establish the Voice’s operations. A successful referendum to require a voice be established and operate can only be reversed by a future referendum. Legislation to establish such a Voice can be amended to either fine tune the initial design, or potentially to radically overhaul that initial design. The proposal below is directed to the design of the legislation and not to what would be included in the referendum question.

 

Nicholas Gruen has argued that there is a potential democratic dividend in making greater use of secret ballots within Parliament. In particular, he has argued (link here) that a panel of randomly chosen citizens should have the power to require a parliamentary vote to be retaken as a secret ballot. I recommend readers have a look at Gruen’s proposal. I find his argument persuasive and the idea attractive.

 

Thinking about it further, it struck me that the proposed Voice, and in particular the legislation establishing the design and operations of the Voice provides an ideal opportunity for the Gruen proposal to be road tested in the current parliamentary term in relation to just one of the numerous issues that Parliament deals with, namely, legislation which focusses substantially on Indigenous issues. More importantly, it would potentially provide a means by which Indigenous interests could be assured that their views have been considered and their voices heard by the whole Parliament.

 

In particular, the proposal advocated here is that the legislation establishing the Voice should include provision establishing a secret ballot mechanism that would require the Parliament to vote secretly (or revote secretly) on any proposal where a substantial majority of the Voice membership (themselves voting secretly) required such an action.

 

While I would hope and expect that the Voice will express views on mainstream legislation that impacts Indigenous citizens adversely, I would limit the operation of the secret ballot mechanism (at least initially) to Indigenous specific legislation such as the Native Title Act, the CATSI Act, the Northern Territory Aboriginal Land Rights Act, and any new legislation aimed directly at addressing Indigenous specific issues. Past examples would include the Howard Government’s 2007 legislation to impose the NT Intervention which passed with Labor support in the lead up to an election (a classic wedge strategy). Had that legislation been subject to a secret ballot, and bearing in mind that it included explicit provisions over-riding the operation of the Racial Discrimination Act, the possibility emerges that a majority of the then Parliament may well have refused to go along with the proposals emanating from the Howard Cabinet, and which were arguably not in the public interest.

 

One of the original objectives of the proponents of constitutional recognition was to address he potential for the so called races power in section 51(xxvi) of the Constitution to be used in ways which were not beneficial, and were adverse to the interests of Indigenous citizens (link here). Midway through the last decade, the Indigenous leadership on constitutional recognition were convinced by Liberal moderates that the likelihood of crafting a proposal to limit the operation of the race power to beneficial uses only would elicit opposition across the conservative political spectrum and make a successful referendum almost impossible. They went back to the drawing board and what emerged was the proposal for a Voice. In other words, the Voice is already a compromise proposal, and has been explicitly articulated as not amounting to a third chamber, and not seeking to threaten Parliamentary sovereignty.

 

The existence of a secret vote mechanism as part of the Voice would provide a means to allow individual parliamentarians to follow their conscience in the event that any attempt was made in the future to enact laws targeted negatively at Indigenous citizens. Such a mechanism would maintain the sovereignty of the Parliament. As Gruen points out, it is already used to elect the Speaker and President of the House and Senate. What it would constrain, but not necessarily veto, are the ‘sovereignty’ of political parties, their more extreme ideological views, and the influence of their unaccountable donors.

 

A Voice enshrined in the Constitution, with a legislative design that incorporates a mechanism to allow the Voice to require a secret ballot on Indigenous specific legislation (and regulations) would go a long way to signalling to distrustful First Nations that their concerns and aspirations will be considered by not just the political party or parties that control a majority in the Parliament, but by the whole Parliament. If the secret vote mechanism led to unintended consequences, it could be fine-tuned or even removed. 

It would comprise both a social justice breakthrough, lead to better policy focussed on the public interest (and not private interests or narrow political advantage) and strengthen our democratic system overall. It would also signal to the substantial and growing numbers of non-Indigenous Australians who are dissatisfied with the culture of politics today that our political leaders are seeking to respond and address the wider trust deficit which is undermining our democratic norms and culture.

Neil Westbury article on regressive changes to remote alcohol laws in the NT

 

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now…

Julius Caesar Act 3, scene 2.

 

Neil Westbury has today published an article in Pearls and Irritations (link here) that outlines succinctly the huge problems with the recent NT Government legislation relating to the regulation of alcohol in the NT, the background to the legislation, and most importantly identifies a sensible and feasible pathway forward directed to harm minimisation and respect for the rights of women and children in particular to live safe lives. His article is highly recommended.

 

Westbury has a long background in NT Indigenous policy issues, has worked for both the Commonwealth and the NT Governments, and most recently was a member of the Gilbert Review into the proposal (now withdrawn) for a Dan Murphy superstore in Darwin. I published a post summarising key structural issues raised by the review in relation to remote alcohol policy in the NT (link here). One thread in that post was an argument that the NTG was failing to act in the public interest in relation to alcohol policy, and I called for the Commonwealth to engage more proactively. Again, it is worth reading that post (and for those with a deeper interest, the Gilbert Review itself) in the context of the current developments.

 

In February, I published a post outlining my concerns at the possibility that a failure of the Commonwealth to establish a transition process out of the Stronger Futures Legislation would create a regulatory vacuum by returning us to the status quo ante (link here). That prediction has unfortunately come to pass in relation to some SFNT measures, for example Community Living Area provisions. However, I failed to predict the alacrity with which the NTG would act on the alcohol provisions.

 

In summary:

• the Commonwealth, by allowing the SFNT legislation to lapse in July this year, has sought to flick responsibility for the conditions in remote communities to the NTG;

 

• the NTG has legislated to lift controls on hundreds of remote communities and locations (the default) with an option for communities to apply for community specific alcohol exemptions.

 

A much more responsible legislative response would have been for the NTG to legislate to retain the current restrictions on alcohol within communities as the default, along with provisions for communities to apply to replace the restrictions with managed access to alcohol (this was essentially the SFNT model).

 

Why has the NTG gone down the path of lifting restrictions?

 

The ostensible reasons given by the former NT Chief Minister, Michael Gunner, for the approach taken by the new legislation were that restrictions were racist and communities should have freedom of choice (link here). This argument was refuted publicly and comprehensively by Dr John Boffa (see the Westbury article) who pointed out that the restrictions were a special measure allowed under the Racial Discrimination Act.

 

Other arguments raised by the new NT Chief Minister Fyfe and Minister Paech include that the current restrictions are not perfect (neither are our road rules!), and that they were imposed by the NT Intervention (link here). In fact, the SFNT legislation was passed by the Labor Government in 2012 and differs from the Intervention legislation passed in 2007 in being subject to, and on its face compliant with the Racial Discrimination Act (RDA).

 

That the NT Government is resorting to rhetorical sleight of hand signals that it is hiding the real reason for switching the default from restriction to free access.

 

My take for what it is worth is as follows. The NT Government has long been in thrall to alcohol interests, and drinking culture permeates all levels of NT society. The major cities and towns are strongly focussed on servicing the tourism industry. There has long been issues with visitors from remote communities (so called itinerants) coming into the major centres for a range of reasons, including access to health services, and undoubtedly access to alcohol. NT governments have struggled managing the flow of visitors for over three decades, not least because they refuse to regulate access to alcohol as it would impact the availability of alcohol to non-Indigenous tourists and Territorians alike. The issue of ‘itinerants’ and ‘long-grassers’ has long been a hot political issue in Darwin in particular. In the NT, Governments stand or fall based on the electoral results in the Darwin electorates.

 

In these circumstances, the current NT Government appears to have decided that rather than maintaining a system — based on their own reluctance to effectively regulate alcohol in towns — where remote residents who wish to drink have an incentive to come into town, they have decided to shift the problems back to remote communities. These consequences include significant violence, significant health issues and concomitant costs, risks to women and children, adverse impacts on education provision and school attendance, and the continuation of significant dysfunction within communities. See my recent post on the challenges for remote communities to get some sense of what this looks like on the ground (link here). This is the impact of the proposed policy framework from July, and all my experience tells me that it is also the intention. It is inconceivable that those advising the NTG were not aware that these consequences would flow.

 

The cynicism and hypocrisy involved in replacing the inconvenience of homeless drinkers in Darwin and other centres towns with a miasma of ongoing despair in remote communities and homelands is extraordinary. It points to a significant failure by the previous Commonwealth Government, undermines and shreds the little remaining credibility the current Labor Government in the NT, and will be a major test of the ethical and political character of the incoming federal Labor Government. 

 

As Neil Westbury argues, the Commonwealth Government ought to step up, listen to the multiple concerns emerging from Indigenous organisations in the NT, and find a way through that engages with all interests involved and most importantly avoids imposing unacceptable costs on remote communities.

 

If the new federal Government fails to act, they will be implicitly endorsing the extraordinary cynicism and hypocrisy of the NT Government and will share the responsibility for the devastating outcomes for the lives of remote community residents that will inevitably emerge. Moreover, this will not be an outcome without political consequences.

 

In such an eventuality, the guaranteed losers will be the residents of remote communities, and particularly the non-drinkers, especially women and children who daily face extraordinarily difficult challenges which most Australians can barely imagine.

Election 2022: policy implications in the Indigenous policy domain.

 

Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends

1 Henry IV, Act 3, scene 2.

 

This post is designed to explore a number of the most salient policy implications for Indigenous policy arising from the results of the 2022 election.

 

In his victory speech last night, Anthony Albanese made two significant points. He emphasised the incoming Government’s commitment to implementing the Uluru Statement, and explicitly mentioned Labor’s intention to entrench it in the Constitution. Second he identified Linda Burney as the incoming Indigenous Affairs Minister. Prior to the election, Burney was Shadow Minister for Families and Social Services, as well as Shadow Minister for Indigenous Australians. We can assume she will likely be given both posts, which is an extraordinarily heavy workload. If so, it seems likely (but not certain) that Senator Patrick Dodson would take on his former shadow roles as Assistant Minister for Reconciliation and Assistant Minister for Constitutional Recognition of Indigenous Australians.

 

The former Minister Ken Wyatt lost his seat of Hasluck with a swing against him of over 10 percent; a swing consistent with the overall swing against the former Government in WA. This will mean that the Opposition will need to choose a new Shadow Minister who is unlikely to be Indigenous and will not have the benefit of the networks and knowledge of the issues that Wyatt built over his career and as Minister. Somewhat paradoxically, in my view this increases the likelihood that the Opposition will adopt a much more antagonistic and aggressive approach to the Labor Government’s policies in this area since it is always easier to find flaws and seek to knock down a policy rather than find constructive ways to make it work. One of the dynamics that has been in play in recent years has been the propensity for Indigenous MPs on all sides to effectively pull their punches in relation to their opposite numbers.

 

As for Wyatt’s legacy, I struggle to identify major reforms or achievements. The National Agreement on Closing the Gap is potentially an extraordinary vehicle for addressing structural inequity between Indigenous and mainstream Australia, but the Commonwealth Implementation Plan and associated financial commitments have been entirely underwhelming. So too have been the Implementation Plans of the states and territories; yet the Commonwealth seems oblivious to their shortcomings. He continued the push on Indigenous procurement. This is perhaps the former Government’s most tangible success, although I worry that the levels of so-called ‘black cladding’ (link here) are much more significant than is generally realised. He dropped the ball on issues his predecessor prioritised (albeit more rhetorically than substantively) such as school attendance and high sugar drinks in remote stores; did virtually nothing to address the longstanding and worsening housing crisis in remote Australia; made no progress in making native title a more effective instrument for Indigenous economic and social development; and actively continued the Commonwealth retreat from Indigenous social policy across the board in favour of the states and territories. This record is a 180 degree turn from the expectations of the Australian people when they voted overwhelmingly to give the Commonwealth concurrent responsibilities with the states in relation to Aboriginal affairs in the 1967 Referendum.

 

On the Voice and constitutional recognition, Wyatt procrastinated and prevaricated, clearly lacking influence and backing within the Government at the most senior levels. It was only during the recent election campaign that the Prime Minister finally came clean, five long years after the Uluru Statement was delivered, and explicitly ruled out any intention of entrenching the Voice in the Constitution (link here).

 

For Labor, while the commitment to action on the Uluru Statement is welcome, there is an enormous amount of work to be done to build broad based momentum across the community and to design and sequence the detailed proposals. My view is that Labor would be wise to ‘ride the wave’ that brought it to government and push forward towards a referendum within six months. For an alternative view, see this article in The Conversation (link here). Designing the legislation for a Voice and establishing the proposed Makarrata Commission will not be straightforward, and will require detailed consultation and engagement with both First Nations and the wider community. While these processes do not need to be finalised before a referendum, the Government would be wise to have developed and published a clear outline of how it sees the Voice and the Makarrata Commission operating before the referendum takes place.

 

There will never be  a perfect or risk free time to take this issue forward to a referendum. Currently, there is a sense of hope and optimism in the community on these issues, and the fact that six of the states and territories have Labor Governments will mean that any state based opposition campaigns will have less legitimacy and more limited access to resources. Delay adds risk, both because the new Government’s policy agenda becomes more crowded and complex, and as it allows further time for opponents to organise.

 

Notwithstanding the strategic importance of a constitutionally recognised Voice to Parliament, the administration of the Indigenous Australians portfolio is about more than one issue.

 

Last week, on 18 May 2022, Mike Keating posted a short article on the Pearls and Irritations web site  (link here) pointing out the implications across the policy spectrum of the inevitable ongoing constraints on policy reform arising from the current mismatch between the Government’s underlying revenue base and the expenditure needs and expectations of the community. In particular, he laid out in the starkest terms the extraordinary magnitude and regressive nature of the most recent tax reforms proposed by the former Government and legislated with Labor support. His analysis is in my view absolutely correct. His proposed solution is for the Government to initiate a number of independent reviews to lay out the problem and develop a reform agenda acceptable to the community. He notes that this will take time and will delay the initiation of essential reforms (or worse still require the incremental unwinding of previous reforms such as the NDIS). This issue will impact every policy sector, but given the extent of Indigenous disadvantage and need, particularly in remote Australia, the consequences in the Indigenous policy space are likely to be dire. Mike Keatings rational logic is persuasive, but ignores the decades of policy exclusion meted out to Indigenous citizens. A determined Government would find a way through.

 

Nevertheless, having won a first term, the ‘hard heads’ within the new Labor Government will be focussed above all else on setting up the political strategy and narrative for the next election in around three years. This will involve a forensic focus on delivering their commitments, but also a strong push for fiscal discipline that will enable Labor to point to progress in clawing back the substantial deficit they have inherited. In this context, proposals for additional public investment will be rigorously scrutinised and those without a strong political rationale will likely be deferred or sidelined. Given the comparatively weak political influence of Indigenous interests, there is a strong likelihood that the new Government will focus primarily on delivering the Uluru Statement to the exclusion of other priorities across the Indigenous policy domain. Such an outcome would in my view be both a policy and political mistake. It would make the job of the yet to be established Voice to Parliament harder, decrease First Nations citizens already low  trust in governments, and exacerbate the negative economic, social and health outcomes that have enduring impacts on the life opportunities of so many First Nations citizens.

 

One lesson to be drawn from the experience of Minister Wyatt in the former Government is that an Indigenous Minister can be sidelined or ignored if he is unable to point to significant and sustained political pressure being applied. Ministers in every portfolio are always under incredible pressure to hold fast to the Government’s narrative, and Indigenous ministers are no exception. Indeed, there is an incentive for Prime Ministers and Governments to use Indigenous ministers as a protective heat shield against pressure from the Indigenous community, rather than as a portal to better engagement with First Nations. The fact that a Government has appointed an experienced and competent Indigenous leader as a Minister does not preclude the necessity for Indigenous interests to implement robust lobbying and advocacy on key issues.

 

In these circumstances, it is in my view incumbent on the national Indigenous leadership to work together to develop a five or ten year set of policy priorities that focus on multiple objectives simultaneously. Their chosen priorities should refine, prioritise and sequence core policy aspirations; extend beyond Indigenous specific policy and program measures to include mainstream measures that will benefit First Nations citizens; and identify structural changes that do not require substantial fiscal investments. Importantly, they should invest in strengthening Indigenous interests’ capability to exert coordinated political pressure in sustained and targeted ways across all jurisdictions of the federation.

 

The fracturing of the major parties primary votes, the emergence of a third force in the electorate comprised of green and teal voters, and the resultant changes to the composition of Parliament reinforces the importance of distinguishing between a Voice to Parliament and the need for Indigenous interests to also build a capability to lobby and influence governments at both national and state/territory levels. More succinctly: Governments are not Parliaments; yet both are crucial in policy advocacy. Neither a Voice to Parliament nor a Peak Body focussed on Governments will be entirely effective on its own, and ideally Indigenous advocacy in each forum will work off similar and broadly coordinated policy agendas.

 

The new Labor Government appears set on delivering the major and long overdue structural reforms laid out in the Uluru Statement for the Heart. These reforms will simultaneously deliver on the aspirations of First Nations and accrue significant benefits for the wider Australian community derived from more inclusive treatment of First Nations. However, in the Indigenous policy domain, the new Government faces numerous significant challenges ahead including addressing structural exclusion, income and wealth inequalities; disparities in health and housing opportunities; over-representation in the criminal justice system; extraordinary levels of out of home care for indigenous children; and extraordinarily low levels of educational outcomes (to name just some of the more pressing issues). The failure to effectively resource and implement the pathbreaking National Agreement on Closing the Gap and to make substantive progress to close the enormous social, economic and health disparities between Indigenous and mainstream citizens remains a weeping sore on our nation’s body politic.

 

Notwithstanding the commitments made to date by the new Government, it will need to find a way to widen its policy agenda and focus policy attention on the structural constraints impacting the most disadvantaged segments of the Australian community. The new Government will do a better job of delivering on First Nations aspirations if it is honest with the Indigenous and mainstream communities about the policy trade-offs it makes, focusses attention on implementation as well as policy rhetoric, and is pushed hard and held to account by Indigenous interests and their allies.

Addendum 23 May 2022

A reader has pointed to the possibility that incoming Senator Jacinta Price (link here) might be appointed Shadow Minister. On reflection, this seems a strong possibility. I also commend Jon Altman's comment on this post to readers.

The ongoing social and governance catastrophe in remote Australia.

                                                                        Our country sinks beneath the yoke;

It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash

Macbeth, Act 4, scene 3.

 

In October 2009, Nicolas Rothwell, writing in The Australian, published a scathing analysis under the title ’The failed state’. The parallels with the more recent analyses are striking. Importantly, Rothwell’s analysis was directed at a Territory Labor Government.

 

Rothwell’s opening sentence sums up his argument: ‘The Northern Territory is a lost cause’. He goes on:

There is, though, a failed state in our midst. That state is not Aboriginal north Australia, where the social fabric is in shreds and tatters. No: it is the jurisdiction largely responsible for entrenching this degree of Indigenous disadvantage: the modern-seeming, self-governing Northern Territory.

I quoted these observations in an earlier post in August 2016 (link here). It is worth reading or re-reading that post in full. I would add however that the responsibility for entrenching Indigenous disadvantage is shared with the Commonwealth.

 

Six years on, the fundamental structural issues identified by Rothwell persist, and are arguably both worsening and present across much of northern Australia, albeit attenuated in the Kimberley, North Queensland and the APY Lands by the demographic shape and larger financial capacity of the respective state governments.

 

How do we know this? Well it is in plain view, laid out in media reports that fail to gain much attention in an election campaign focussed on middle Australia and issues of national security and the cost of mortgages.

 

So for example, media reports indicate that an acute social crisis has been underway in the remote community of Wadeye for months. Wadeye is one of the largest remote communities in northern Australia with a population approaching 3000 people.

 

In November 2020, ABC News reported on an outbreak of community violence involving the burning of a house and cars, and community concern regarding the perceived lack of a police response (link here).  

 

More recently, on 27 April 2022, ABC journalist Roxanne Fitzgerald reported on an escalating eruption of intra-communal violence involving the torching of 37 houses, the displacement of 400 residents of affected housing, and the closure of the community’s only food shop (link here). 

 

On 2 May 2022, the ABC was reporting that a ‘massive aid effort’ was underway for the Wadeye residents displaced by violence (link here). The news article refers to health service and teaching staff shortages, and plummeting school attendance rates. According to the ABC, the response from government included the provision of 100 food packs by the West Daly Regional Council (local government), an announcement of an assessment of the extent of housing repairs required by the Department of Chief Minister, as well as liaison with the Commonwealth regarding relaxation of Centrelink reporting requirements. The NT Remote Housing Minister Chansey Paech indicated (somewhat defensively) that the NT Government was looking at options ‘around the urgent provision of infrastructure to make it possible for residents who wish to move onto their homelands (outstations) as soon as possible’, and pointed to Federal Labor’s pledge to invest $100m in homelands if elected.

 

The CEO of the local Thamarrurr Development Corporation was quoted as citing the situation as a crisis, and pointed to a 2005 socio-economic report into Wadeye by ANU researchers John Taylor and Owen Stanley (link here) which identified a structural imbalance in government funding involving under-investment in ‘positive’ policies such as education, employment creation and housing, and over-investment in expenditures on welfare and policing. It seems that little has changed over the past two decades.

 

The recent issues in Wadeye are not new. In her book Teaching ‘Proper’ Drinking (link here), Maggie Brady has a chapter describing a 1988 riot directed against the club that dispensed alcohol in the town. In May 2006, The Age ran an article (link here) which began: ‘Gang violence has turned the remote indigenous community of Wadeye into a war zone.’

 

The existence of longstanding and persistent problems at Wadeye of this scale and import are on their own a serious indictment of governments’ credibility, capability, and ultimately legitimacy. And the repercussions in terms of mental health, disrupted schooling, and physical violence have an incalculable but clearly negative impact on the life opportunities of generations of Aboriginal people.

 

Yet Wadeye is not unique.

 

The Pilbara and Kimberley regions of Western Australia have over the last three or four decades faced similar issues in different communities, including problems with alcohol and FASD (successfully managed in Fitzroy Crossing via the imposition of controls on full strength beer), spates of youth suicide leading to a number of high profile coronial inquiries and the closure and ultimately to the bulldozing of the Oombulgurri community in the East Kimberley (link here). That the region continues to confront challenges can be gauged by recent WA Government funding announcements seeking to address persistent waves of youth crime. Just this week, it announced over $40m in further funding in the Pilbara (link here) and the Kimberley (link here).

 

The APY lands in northern South Australia have a similar history of social dysfunction and underinvestment in core services.

 

Perhaps the most traumatic insight into remote community challenges has been the experience of Yuendumu in recent times.

 

In the most recent edition of The Monthly (link here), Anna Krien, in her must read essay A shooting in Yuendumu, lays out an excoriating account of the lead up to, and fallout from, the police shooting of 19 year old Warlpiri teenager Kumanjayi Walker in November 2019 in the course of an attempted arrest on the day of a large funeral. Walker’s tragic and blighted life provides a lens through which to view the reality, impact and consequences of the community chaos that engulfs many remote communities and townships.

 

I don’t propose to go over the ground covered by Krien, but instead focus on reading between the lines of her essay to highlight the elisions in her account and some of the background factors that played a part in creating the conditions for what transpired. It strikes me that Krien’s focus on laying out the sequences of events within the concise format of an essay inevitably meant that the underlying structural forces that were indirectly in play, and arguably crucial to shaping the ultimate outcome, were glossed over. Moreover, her framing is not policy related, but more akin to surfacing and connecting an underlying narrative with political and ethical implications for the way society operates.

 

As I read Krien’s essay, I was simultaneously reading between the lines for the systemic connections that played into her narrative. Krien alerts us to Walker’s likely neurological and intellectual disability, the probable effect of FASD, foetal alcohol spectrum disorder, the result of excessive alcohol consumption by his mother during her pregnancy. Krien notes Walker’s mother had sniffed petrol and drank heavily while pregnant, and died of heart failure at age thirty. At the age of six months, Walker had been diagnosed with ‘failure to thrive’. Prevalence data for FASD is patchy, but data for remote Indigenous communities in WA suggests 194 cases per 1000 live births (2002-2003 data), and an extraordinary 466 per 1000 Indigenous children aged 10 to 17 in WA detention (2015-16 data) (link here). Effective policies to limit alcohol consumption by pregnant women are the key to addressing these issues. The destructive and long term impact on individuals and communities has been known for decades, yet alcohol management policy continues to be driven more by commercial interests than community welfare (link here and link here).

 

Krien mentions the staffing constraints on key services, a function of the budget priorities of governments. The nurses in the Yuendumu clinic were evacuated on the day of the funeral over concerns for their safety arising from prior break ins to their living quarters. Nurse safety has been an ongoing issue in remote communities for many years (link here and link here). Police staffing was extraordinarily stretched, with Krien noting that the four police and one community policeman resident in Yuendumu were responsible for an area of 125, 000 sq kms, three remote settlements and a goldmine. There have been longstanding issues with under-provision of both police stations and adequate police numbers in remote communities.

 

One of the key elements of the Commonwealth Government’s post-intervention Stronger Futures in the NT funding agreements was the provision of extra police stations and 60 additional police (link here). That funding was for ten years ending in June 2022. It was recently extended for a further two years. See my critique of that decision (link here). Notwithstanding the additional Commonwealth assistance, it is clear that the NT Government has not been prepared to ensure adequate police services are provided in remote communities . See this 2016 post (link here) exploring the underinvestment in police services on Groote Eylandt, and the moral hazard raised where Commonwealth funding allows increased scope of the NT Government to underfund key services. The recent announcement (link here) that the coming NT Budget will increase funding for remote policing is clearly a response to an unwinding social situation in Wadeye in particular, and the bush in general, and raises the question: is it too little too late?

 

Krien also points to the differing approaches within the NT police force. The ‘community policing’ role of police resident in communities built around building relationships and gaining trust and a more aggressive ‘para-military style’ that divides the community into those who deserve protection and those seen as a threat. The use and tactics of the NT Police Immediate Response Team (IRT) in Yuendumu set aside the community policing approach, and ultimately led not just to the death of a teenager, but in the eyes  of many Aboriginal people, to a much wider loss of trust in the fairness and objectivity of the rule of law in the NT (link here). It is clear that there is an unresolved wider issue within state police units operating in remote contexts that revolves around the governance and accountability principles that are applied in practice. The political influence of police unions and the increasing militarisation of police capabilities, and hence mindsets, should be an issue of much more salient concern to Australians generally. And of course, as Krien implicitly notes in citing texts between police referring to a police posting to Alice Springs as ‘being like the Wild West and fuck all the rules in the job really…’, remote communities are the sharp end of potential misuse of that hyper-militarised policing capability.

 

Krien mentions the education system only in passing, mentioning that while living in Katherine, ‘Walker did a little bit of school. Could write his name.’ She recounts the young boy’s extensive list of medical treatment, which would also have affected his education. Krien also mentions Walker’s experience in the Don Dale detention centre school. She notes a teacher’s comment that Walker was unpredictable and that school kids from desert communities inside Don Dale struggle. She then segues to the issues uncovered by the Royal Commission into Youth Detention, whose recommendations are yet to be fully implemented by the NT or Commonwealth Governments (link here).

 

Intuitively, basic education is the key to maximising life opportunities. It may take different forms, and emphasise different cultural values and perspectives, but its complete absence for a significant portion of today’s remote youth is clearly a fundamental problem both for the present and the future. Yet governments persist in spouting misleading rhetoric that seeks to ignore a harsh reality, namely, that having stepped in to replace culturally based learning (that served Indigenous people well for sixty thousand years), the settler state’s current remote education systems are failing badly. They are leaving remote youth without access to culturally based education, yet unable to ensure engagement with mainstream education (link here and link here). It is no wonder many young people are confused and lost.

 

Krien mentions Walker’s significant criminal record, including theft, break in, property damage and aggravated assault, the latter directed against his partner. He had spent time in both the Alice Springs and Don Dale juvenile detention centres. Krien points out in passing that in the NT, the Indigenous population comprises 30 percent of the population, but 84 percent of the prison population. The over-representation of First Nations citizens is both longstanding and impossible to deny, with the Australian Law Reform Commission having investigated the issue in recent years. Yet Governments prevaricate (link here). Recent research by Shepherd et al (link here; citation below) points to the existence of an incarceration gap within the Indigenous community affecting the 20 percent of Indigenous males who have experienced incarceration. For this cohort, there were very strong correlations between past and present incarceration and lack of educational attainment, labour force participation and drug and alcohol problems. For the 80 percent of Indigenous males who had no experience of incarceration, social indicators were much closer to the mainstream norm. The researchers also pointed to the significantly worse outcomes across these social indicators in remote regions. Clearly there are complex systemic issues at work.

 

Admittedly, solutions to the incarceration crisis in Indigenous Australia are not easy, and undoubtedly require a mix of prevention, legislative adjustment, and time. Yet ‘head in the sand’ approaches by governments merely allow the situation to worsen, and fuel the inevitable backlash from mainstream businesses and citizens who are dealing with the very real impacts of criminal behaviour on their lives and livelihoods. Governments focussed on the public interest would seek to address both the short term issues and the underlying systemic issues. Indeed, the tension over appropriate approaches to policing mentioned above are likely exacerbated by the ubiquitous reliance on overstated rhetoric and framing short term responses, thus effectively kicking the problem of finding a sustainable solution down the road.

 

Finally, I wish to point to the issue of housing and overcrowding. Krien doesn’t mention it except in passing as she describes the attempted arrest of Walker inside house 511. Her article includes on its title page a photograph of the bleak and almost windowless front of the rust coloured house (it resembles a garage shed), the numerals 511 painted on the eave, surrounded by red sand, a lone sneaker, desultory rubbish, a mattress and sheet iron windbreaks on one side of the front yard, a set of mattress inner springs on a frame on the other. A solar water heater on the roof along with a somewhat incongruous satellite dish. In the foreground, a lone pink plastic pyramid marks the position of some element of the police investigation. Beside the front door are a bunch of flowers and a small white cross. The image exudes deep-seated despair.

 

Yet almost all housing in Yuendumu and similar remote communities across northern Australia are public housing, owned and maintained by relevant governments. I have written many articles on the issues of remote housing in this blog and elsewhere, and don’t propose to regurgitate my concerns at the cuts to remote housing funding by the current Commonwealth Government and the shortcomings of the NT system of tenancy management and timely repairs and maintenance (link here). Media reports regularly inform us of the poor state of housing and high levels of overcrowding (link here and link here). It is inconceivable to me that the desultory investment by governments in social housing in these communities is not a core contributor to the health, education and employment outcomes that lead to the sorts of life experienced by Kumanjayi Walker.

 

Each of the systemic issues identified above, and I can safely say numerous other issues such as the impact of climate change and flawed policy on energy provision to remote households (link here), are devastating in their own right. But they operate together, each reinforcing the other, to create a dystopian maze of incoherent policies, and punitive suppression of individual and community opportunity. The problems are systemic and structural, and it follows that the solutions too must be systemic and structural.

 

Last year, I reviewed Melinda Hinkson’s book See How We Roll (link here), an incisive account and insight into the ways that Warlpiri people (who live in Yuendumu and the surrounding region) see their world, and how they deal with the ubiquitous uncertainty, pain and chaos that permeates their lives. Hinkson’s underlying assumption, one shared in the 1970s by Nugget Coombs and Bill Stanner (link here), is that Warlpiri people have a right to choose the way they live their lives, and by implication she provides a critique of longstanding policy frameworks which seek — and consistently fail — to shape, incentivise and ultimately coerce Indigenous people into western ways of living. It is not that one way is better than another, but that people deserve to have a choice. While easy to write or say, it has proven to be an enduring challenge for policymakers to frame policies that are facilitative rather than coercive or manipulative.

 

Nicolas Rothwell was right in 2009, and his description then remains applicable today. The experiences over decades of people in Fitzroy Crossing, Oombulgurri, Fregon, Wadeye, Aurukun, Yuendumu, and many other remote communities, and the concomitant and tragic devastation surrounding the lives of so many individuals and families, merely serves to confirm that there is a systemic and longstanding failure by governments in the remote Indigenous policy space. Putting this right must be a national priority. All Australians have some measure of responsibility for the failure of our governments.

 

Remote Australia requires a ‘new deal’. It requires significantly increased government investment. Most importantly, it requires greater and more effective engagement with remote residents based on acknowledging their prior ownership, their violent dispossession, and an acknowledgment that mainstream Australia is the source of the fundamental disruption that is creating ongoing chaos. The ubiquitous assumption amongst mainstream Australia’s institutions dealing with remote Australia has been that the past is irrelevant and that we should all just look forward. This assumption has not worked and mainstream Australians need to be smart enough to rethink our fundamental approaches to the interaction of the nation state with remote communities. Failure to do so will continue the systemic exclusion that lies at the heart of the problems we are seeing in communities like Yuendumu and Wadeye, and which continues to destroy the lives of thousands of people such as Kumanjayi Walker, his partner, his mother, and indeed his wider family and community.

 

Continued policy failure in remote Australia is an abscess on our nation's body politic and the ensuing infection, if untreated, will ultimately expand. To maintain legitimacy and trust in the core institutions of our national governance over the long term, governments must govern for all citizens, and not just for privileged interests. At present, it is patently clear that across remote Australia, they do not meet this basic prerequisite for legitimacy.

 

References:

Shepherd, S.M., Spivak, B., Ashford, L.J. et al. Closing the (incarceration) gap: assessing the socio-economic and clinical indicators of indigenous males by lifetime incarceration status. BMC Public Health 20, 710 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1186/s12889-020-08794-3

 

Wright LK, Jatrana S, Lindsay D Workforce safety in the remote health sector of Australia: a scoping review BMJ Open 2021;11:e051345. doi: 10.1136/bmjopen-2021-051345

[This post has been amended to correct some typographical errors and to slightly improve clarity in the final paragraph. Thankyou to JCA.]