Introduction - 10 reasons for bad policymaking

 

Jess, me and democratic passions

 

My good friend Jess and I saw a movie at Indooroopilly one warm night in September 2000. For some reason I was dying for a good chat with someone intelligent, so afterwards we got a coffee. And it was a good chat, too, this time about politics. I’m always shy about talking politics or religion because it starts arguments, but after the first coffee the mood felt right for it.

At the time Jess was doing her degree in English literature while I was doing mine in political science. This night she was wearing new shoes and black stockings, and had a new haircut. Pretty  slick. Generally speaking I’m jealous of her fashion sense.

 I have to say, I find Jess pretty uncompromising, but she’ll offer a consistent view on political things. You might call her a liberal, with her general distrust of big government invading our private lives and her hatred of bigotry and conservative social policies. Most of the time I agree with her, but not tonight. We both test our diplomatic skills and battle to keep from raising our voices. We manage to stop the people from across the road hearing us, but not those at our surrounding tables.

 In the last year Jess and I had zombied out of high school towards university. We had no idea about anything, really. I tried a few dual degrees but always focused on studying political science. Still, I think I kind of fell into it. It was pretty random.

 I’m not sure anybody really knows what political science is actually all about. At its best it’s about government — but not just politicians, everything about government, from the people who work as part of the government, or who get paid by government for something, to businesses that have to comply with government laws, and those who want to change the rules. If you’ve ever spoken a sentence that had the word ‘government’ in it, political scientists have tried to study whatever it is you were talking about. In all honesty, most of the time they’re pretty crap at it. But government, in that very broad sense, is what this book is about.

I had left my home town of Rockhampton to go to university in ‘the big smoke’, as dad used to say. Mum and dad were never particularly interested in politics or religion, so although they instilled a strong sense of fairness and hard work in me, my brain was open, and my convictions were yet to form.

 My friend Jess is different to me, but I like her. Most of the rallies that I occasionally attend are ones she drags me to. These days, they’re mostly gay rights ones. I have to say, I don’t think our ideological views are very different. We both believe in fairness and equality, and we despise conservative religious extremism. But when she rants it makes me uncomfortable, and to her it is considered a fact that conservative people are stupid. It makes me wonder if she really ever convinces anybody, if she ever connects with them. Surely there’s a more practical and strategic way to achieve justice than to just continually shout your opinion for all it’s worth?

 I have tried to make this book different from all the academic theories about government I learnt at university. You see, some of those theories about government policymaking are useful, like agenda-setting theory, interest group theory, the garbage can theory of decision making, and Rawls’s theory of justice. Trouble is they’re not very down-to-earth.

I was suspicious of these things even in my university days. What I found out when I eventually worked in government as a policy officer myself was that the real reasons why a lot of government policies don’t work are just that people are lazy, arrogant, ignorant, and unethical. They’re too interested in sucking up and covering up, so they can get a promotion.

Above all, what I have had to understand over the years, I think, is what the difference is between what governments can do and what they can’t do. It sounds simple, but this is at the crux of the whole issue of government. To be effective in government, I had to be able to see what was realistic and what was just an exciting piece of technology or some whiz-bang idea that would never work. It takes genuine skill to know the difference.

If I’m ever talking to people working in government, or to politicians — if someone’s trying to achieve something — I try to think about what restrictions and obstacles there are going to be that they may not have considered. I try never to make the mistake of concluding that things are too hard or would never work. If you get creative and are open to new ideas, it’s surprising what governments can do, or how good simple solutions can be. I think it’s all about knowing the restrictions, limits and possibilities.

Sometimes I notice that when people don’t want change they often try to control language. They seek to define words and concepts, to restrict the definition. In ancient Greece, all citizens could vote, but citizen was defined only as someone who had property or wealth. In our modern democracy we would say all adults, except those living in our country temporarily, are citizens. We have expanded the definition.

There’s an old adage that says change is always resisted by people who benefit from the current situation. In many ways, this is a good, if oversimplified, explanation for all of the craziness that occurs in the world of politics. It even applies to ‘office politics’, and to changes within the public service where some people – for example lazy or incompetent people – like things just the way they are.

The core take-out message from my degree in political science is that genuine change, not just the appearance of change, is very hard. 

Even so, I really care about democracy, and I think we should not restrict the definition of democracy to just the right to vote in elections. We should push for change. Like the academic TH Marshall, who wrote about citizenship in modern societies, I see democracy not as a static thing that we in the Western world have, that the rest of the world doesn’t. I see it more as a trend, changing over time, like watching a forest grow.

In my view, all people, regardless of their background or their physical characteristics, have a right to participate in society. Every one of us has a right to participate in society in a way that is fair. This means being able to vote in elections, and freedom of speech. It means getting a fair trial in a court of law. It means having the right to work and have a job, and to have a fair say in how things run and how you’re treated in the workplace. To be able to participate in society properly, everyone needs to have a reasonable level of income that means they aren’t just struggling in poverty. That’s what I mean by democracy.

I never subscribe to the view of powerful groups in society that democracy is just about free speech and elections. That’s merely their convenient way of making us forget something: that it is possible to also think of democracy more broadly as the right of everyone to participate in the whole of society.  It's not just being able to participate in elections, it's about being able to participate in education, in social functions or events that normally you can only participate in if you have enough money, or participate in cultural activities.

  Why should some people have excessive wealth, if it is only obtained through good fortune rather than as merely a product of their efforts, while others struggle? The existence of billionaires is not democratic or fair.

Unfortunately, our world isn’t fair. It isn’t all free. There is poverty and hatred, and a big system of corporations and bureaucracies. I feel it keenly. It hurts in my gut.

 For me, it causes real grief; I hate it. Because of who I am I have felt rejected by society, or by part of it, quite often. In some respects it’s been devastating. I can see that I have been through Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s famous 5 stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. With regard to democracy, unlike grieving for a lost love one or after a personal tragedy, I see these not as stages, but different ways in which people react to unfairness and injustice. Some people get angry at politicians, some are apathetic, some get depressed, and some accept it.

But TH Marshall, writing in the years after World War 2, didn’t mention something that I think is important. The biggest engine pushing forward our democratic ideas and policies, and putting them into action, is the government and the people who work for the government. So it’s important, for making sure that our tax dollars are spent wisely and for seeing our democratically chosen policies implemented well, that the government and bureaucracy work well.

In our movie-coffee date, Jess was in a rage against the Prime Minister. He was weak, she said. The government didn’t have the political will to address the low availability of Medicare bulk billing doctors. State governments didn’t have the political will to fund hospitals better. I was angry too, I always have been, but it’s rarely been my dominant feeling. At different times I feel or have felt denial, or been in a bargaining or compromise mindset. Yet I feel that in my better moments I am an accepter. I don’t like getting mad, I want to get even. Or, to put it more accurately, I don’t want to get even, but I want to do something useful about it.

  The basis of this book is that if we know the real reasons why government policies don’t work we can do something about them. If you know what the causes of bad policymaking are, you’re less likely to get angry or blame the Prime Minister or politicians or public servants — except when they actually deserve it. But if you read this book, you will see that politicians have a lot less control and influence than you might at first think. You’ll be more likely to know when it actually is fair to blame politicians, and we’ll have a better understanding and be better able to direct our efforts to make government policies work better and more efficiently.

 If we know more about how public policy actually gets made, then we might have better success if we are ever trying to influence government policies or get the government’s attention to fix a problem. But more than that, if you actually work in government, or if you produce art or writing about government, or if you talk about politics or government with friends, then you have a role in democracy.

It’s always a good idea to occasionally step outside of our own skin, stop thinking about ourselves, and consider what effect our own decisions and actions actually have on how the system of government works. Do you just think about yourself, or are their other things to think about, too?

I think democracy is more than politicians and elections. A good democracy is one where the taxes we pay and the government and bureaucrats are actually effective and help improve things. It’s our money and hard work that goes to pay for government, and we should get value for money. We want it to make good decisions that make us more free, not restrict our freedom for no good reason. Getting governments to spend their resources more effectively should be something that unites all of us, regardless of which party you normally vote for.

Like Jess, many people think our taxes should be as low as possible, that the size of government should be small. Some also go further, by saying that the free market is more ‘efficient’ than government, and that user-pays systems can be a fairer way of paying for some services. I disagree, but it doesn’t matter. Whether you agree with me or Jess, or you think free market policies are better most of the time, the fact remains that we do have a government, and this is not going to change. Our taxes are going to be spent anyway.

There is one thing that should unite all of us, regardless of our political values or which party we vote for, or even if we don’t vote at all. There is a lot of money that is invested in government. In different countries it ranges from around 20 per cent of all money in the economy, to over 50 per cent in other countries. Either way, it’s a lot. Surely we all want it to be spent effectively?

Whereas economists study how the private economy works, and economists and managers and finance professionals aim to ensure the private economy works efficiently, who is making sure that the other third of the economy is working well? Government money belongs to all of society, and it is spent by politicians, government bureaucrats, and even us sometimes. We should all be united by a common goal to make sure that our money is used wisely and effectively. So we can save money and do more, but also free up resources to do new things that will actually make all of our lives better, from having better health care and hospitals, to safer roads and better environmental protection, and everything in between.

Looking back over the last hundred years, there’s been a lot of changes. Women can vote and work, even though it’s hard. Lots of other people can vote too, including people between 18 and 21. There are at least some government bodies that help keep politicians and public servants accountable, even if I would argue that they are generally pretty poor, or sometimes even irrelevant. Governments at least make a pretence of consulting with the community about government building projects, unlike in days before democracy when not even that would happen.

     Today, you can go to Court in some circumstances if you need to. Anyone can start a website, jump on social media, or even self-publish. In wealthy countries, most of us go to school and can usually go to university or TAFE or something similar, if we want to.

On the other hand, we have to work Sundays and Saturdays more. Our mortgages and rents are bigger than ever. Politicians seem to make less sense than they used to.

These things are broader than just voting or elections, and they’re part of the overall picture about how our government works and what it can do. In the future they’ll be lots more technology, but there’ll also be social changes. Over the last hundred years most, though not all, of these social changes have been good ones, even if we sometimes think that some of them haven’t gone far enough yet.

This book is about what happened to me when I was working in the government in Queensland, Australia, when I worked with people like my old boss, Peter. It’s about what I saw when I decided to take action and briefly join a political party, when I met people like Sam. It’s about the countless things I hear from people like my mate Cam, when he slags off at politicians for not fixing things. It’s about academics, and economics experts like Dr Tim, who make me angry far too often.

Mostly, the book ain’t pretty, but it’s not about evil mongrels, or scandals, or why governments are just so inherently evil that we need to keep their nose out of our business at all costs. Unfortunately it’s a bit of a comedy because some of things I’ve seen on the inside are too ridiculous to actually be believed. That said, governments do some pretty awesome stuff, and I like them.

You might be working in government right now and feel like actually being useful and having your life actually be worthwhile to something. You might be one of those people who are just frustrated at government for building that big road next to you without asking, or taking too long to let you see a doctor, or some other pretty horrible injustice. You might be like me, and you just generally hate politicians.

The next time you see a problem you might wonder whether the government can fix it. When that happens, what specific thoughts cross your mind? Stop and think about this for a second: when bureaucrats or politicians promise to do something, on those rare occasions when they honestly want to do it, what do you think is actually going to happen?

Jess says that when governments don’t do what we want them to it’s because there isn’t enough political will. But I think that’s the simpleton’s explanation, and it doesn’t empower us to do anything to make government policies work better. If you come on my journey with me, we will go much deeper into it.