No place for politics in inquiry
NOTHING goes in and out of fashion in Australian politics quite like a royal commission.
A whopping 54 versions of the nation’s most powerful inquiry were established between 1910 and 1929, and then 19 in the 43 years that followed. There was another flood under Whitlam, Fraser, Hawke and Keating, and then just four from 1996 to 2012.
In the past decade, the royal commission has roared back. This week, as Scott Morrison orders his fourth in two-and-a-half years, it seems like the right time to ask: Are they really worth it?
With coercive powers to grill witnesses and obtain evidence, a royal commission is a critical independent tool to uncover wrongdoing or maladministration and spark change.
Julia Gillard’s institutional child sexual abuse inquiry did both, revealing horrific abuse and forcing redress for survivors and reforms to prevent such atrocities repeating.
It was in stark contrast to the commissions ordered by Tony Abbott — a $20m inquiry to smear Kevin Rudd for his batts scheme, and a $46m probe to bloody Gillard, Bill Shorten and the union movement. Even John Howard criticised his successor’s use of royal commissions for “narrow targeted political purposes”.
Abbott lowered the bar for what issues deserved the scrutiny of a royal commission, and reminded his opponents of the political power of such inquiries.
Shorten seized on that and campaigned for a commission into the banks, amid revelations about their misbehaviour. Malcolm Turnbull and Morrison ordered the inquiry a week later, having also argued vehemently against it.
This was another effective and worthwhile royal commission, particularly as it took on the investigative role which regulators embarrassingly failed to fulfil.
Since its report, however, the government has been slow to act on some recommendations. Indeed, it directly contradicted the very first recommendation by scrapping responsible lending obligations.
This is a central problem with royal commissions. Their reform blueprints are not worth the paper they are printed on if they are not received by governments willing to act. Thirty years since the Aboriginal deaths in custody commission, a third of its proposals have not been implemented. Shamefully, there have been at least another 450 deaths since then. As royal commissions are increasingly called to cauterise political pressure, governments are more likely to ignore the recommendations of inquiries they never wanted, or design them so prickly issues are simply ignored.
Morrison is now finalising his response to his aged care royal commission. But within days of receiving its report, the government shot down its call for a levy to fund the required reforms. That’s fair enough, if they have another way to pay for the changes.
But Morrison’s bigger problem is the commission didn’t even provide a coherent blueprint — out of 148 recommendations, the two commissioners disagreed on 43, including whether a new agency is needed to run aged care and how means testing is applied to those needing taxpayer-funded help. Throughout the pandemic, governments increasingly deferred to their experts, judging that following their advice provided political cover for controversial calls. In a way, royal commissioners are the ultimate experts. But faced with two
UNTIL THIS WEEK, MORRISON JUDGED A ROYAL COMMISSION WASN’T NEEDED INTO VETERAN SUICIDE DEATHS.
separate aged care proposals, Morrison must now do what he could have done without a royal commission: decide for himself.
After all, that’s what politicians are elected to do.
Until this week, Morrison judged a royal commission wasn’t needed into veteran suicide deaths.
The royal commission will undoubtedly be a relief to families whose loved ones were failed terribly. But given the government believes it already understands the systemic issues, it would be a travesty if the two-year inquiry slowed life-saving solutions.