The curse of busyness

In praise of do-nothing governments

The compulsion to look busy is a curse to which progressive prime ministers are particularly prone. It can be particularly intense before an election, manifesting itself in a sludge of vanity legislation with no purpose other than to flatter the government’s record and enhance its moral standing.

At best the legislation is merely a waste of parliament’s time, like the 2013 Homelessness (Consequential Amendments) Bill. Its purpose was unashamedly symbolic.  The explanatory memorandum said it was “aimed at increasing recognition and awareness of people who are homeless or at risk of homelessness”.

Yet the consequences of twilight legislation fast-tracked through parliament can be serious, propelling the nation on an illiberal course which is nearly impossible to correct. The Racial Discrimination Act 1975 was enacted four months before Gough Whitlam’s dismissal spawning the Office of the Commissioner for Community Relations, the forerunner for the Australian Human Rights Commission. The Racial Hatred Act 1995 was a parting gift of the Keating government. It included the notorious clause 18C which lowered the bar of discrimination to include acts deemed to offend, insult, humiliate or intimidate person or persons on the grounds of race. The Sex Discrimination Amendment (Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Intersex Status) Act 2013 was passed on June 25, 2013 on the penultimate day of Julia Gillard’s prime ministership, enshrining the concept of gender identity in law.

The Combating Misinformation and Disinformation Bill follows in this great Labor tradition of saving its most dangerous legislation to last. It will secure Anthony Albanese’s place on the list of Labor leaders who have taken Australia further along the road along to tyranny by increasing the state’s powers to police the boundaries of civic debate.

Whitlam’s legislation confined the state’s ability to dictate what could or could not be said to matters related to race. Gillard widened the net to include gender identity and sexual orientation. The Combating Misinformation and Disinformation Bill extends to everything while making an unelected government authority only loosely accountable to parliament the final arbiter of truth. The Australian Communications and Media Authority will be deemed infallible in distinguishing between misinformation and disinformation, words with worrying dystopian undertones that wouldn't look shound of place in George Orwell's Ministry of Truth.

Like most lurches towards state control, this one begins by fuelling moral panic over a threat to society of such proportions that the government must step in.

There are many genuine threats to our safety and wellbeing that should be keeping the Prime Minister awake at night: China's threat to invade Taiwan, the arrival of thousands of unscreened Palestinian asylum seekers and the rise in violent crime. Yet Anthony Albanese's government seems not to want to discuss those, focussing instead on the danger posed by imagined bad actors on internet, who harness the power of social media to mould the minds of individuals in nefarious ways.

The narrative of shadowy figures intent on undermining "our way of life" is a classic tool to justify the expansion of state control. It typically follows a structured formula, designed to create fear and position the state as the sole protector of the nation.

For Mussolini these took the form of degenerates cultural critics, liberals, and intellectuals  ideologues plotting to destroy Italy and its traditions. Joseph Stalin talked about the of enemies of the people, wreckers and saboteurs who were undermining the Soviet economy. Robert Mugabe demonised white farmer, sellouts, and the remnants of colonialism to justify land seizures.

Communications Minister Michelle Rowland points the finger at ”bad actors or rogue states acting against Australia's interests. She hints at an orchestrated campaign on social media to spread disinformation throughout Australia to create confusion and division in the minds of the people. It follows a familiar pattern. In the aftermath of the Voice referendum, Albansese chose to blame a campaign of misinformation rather than the flaws in his proposal for the referendum defeat.

Last month Rowland announced the re-introduction of the Combating Misinformation and Disinformation Bill claiming that misinformation and disinformation "pose a serious threat to the safety and wellbeing of Australians, as well as to our democracy, society and economy."

She produced no evidence to back up her hyperbolic statement. She merely asserted it as fact. Nor did she clarify what she meant by misinformation and disinformation. Instead, she resorted to the dangerous excuse that the government had to do something. “Doing nothing and allowing this problem to fester is not an option,” she insisted.

Yet doing nothing is usually the best option when governments cannot precisely explain the problem they are addressing and how the proposed measures will fix it.

In cases when the government must act, there are almost always better options than the one the government proposes, and vigorous debate will further enhance them. Yet the government is in no mood to compromise on its censorship bill. Instead, it resorts to the time-worn political device known as muddying the waters.

A few days before the government revealed that the Combating Misinformation and Disinformation Bill was back in play, it announced the long-overdue step of raising the age at which teenagers can leave a family’s social media account and set up one of their own. Given the mounting evidence of the dangers of giving teenagers uninhibited access to smartphones, it is an overdue measure. The current age of consent is 13.

Yet there is a world of difference between measures that will allow parents to control their children's online activity and allowing a government body to