A report into the culture of the NSW parliament has sent shockwaves through the political class. It’s no surprise that nobody is surprised. So, is the parliamentary workplace an anomaly or microcosm of our society? Mark Sawyer looks for answers.
Former Sex Discrimination Commissioner Elizabeth Broderick’s report into the culture of NSW Parliament, Australia’s mother of parliaments and home of the ”Bearpit”, generated plenty of juicy headlines on Friday.
”Bombshell sex claims rock parliament”. ”Five alleged sexual assaults”. ‘Group humiliation’ and five rape claims”. ”Culture of bullying and sexual harassment”. ”Sexual harassment, widespread bullying”. ”Toxic workplace”.
On top of the headlines, there can be no doubting its seriousness of the Broderick report. It speaks, in first analysis, to our desire for safety in life, in this case the workplace, and the expectations we have of those who make life-altering decisions on our behalf.
Politically, the report could be the thing that kicks the legs out from under the decaying Coalition government when NSW voters go to the polls in March. The Perrottet government was already reeling from the Barilaro affair and the resignations of two ministers – one over alleged bullying.
Or it could be a summer storm. We get drenched together, then dry off and move on.
The complaints were anonymous (understandably) but only one in four staff at NSW Parliament participated in the Broderick study. That doesn’t mean three in four had no reason to complain, of course, and there is the fear factor, but it also means extrapolation is needed.
Nobody speaking on the issue failed to say the right things. The Minister for Women, Bronnie Taylor, led the charge, calling on perpetrators of abuse to quit Parliament and seek treatment. She described the report as ”distressing, harrowing and confronting”.
Trouble is spread around
No party – not even the holy Greens – is claiming innocence. On Friday Labor’s Walt Secord issued an apology for his conduct towards staff after the ABC sourced complaints in the Broderick report about the MP’s conduct. Secord acknowledged he could be too blunt and direct with staff.
But the treatment of women always sticks to the Coalition. The allegations that surrounded incidents at Parliament House, Canberra, helped drive down female support for the Morrison government. The treatment of women on Capital Hill was linked to the strong vote for female independents (the Teals). A flat-footed Scott Morrison was easily painted as anti-women (sorry Jenny and girls).
What chance a changing of the guard in both Macquarie and Spring streets?
Back in NSW, there is already a notion afoot that Teal-style independents will campaign on this issue when the 12-year-old Coalition government seeks a fourth term next March. Which is their perfect right. Campaigns built on ”integrity” offer plenty of scope. But how quickly we fall back into the trope of women as society’s civilisers. Women as God’s police, as feminist author Anne Summers put it.
Alternative strategies
Reports such as Broderick’s generate calls for MPs to lose their power to dismiss staff or palm them off to other offices. This does sound sensible, but it founders on practicalities. There is a level of trust and loyalty that an MP (acting lawfully and ethically of course) is entitled to expect. That doesn’t make for an ideal situation, but the alternative would be a state employee sitting in a side room, unemployable in the MP’s office for reasons that can’t be disclosed (perhaps to the Speaker, but probably not), still drawing a wage.
The idea of alcohol ban always gets kicked around. That sounds sensible too, but it too founders on practicalities. Obviously, no drinking in offices. But a social gathering with optional attendance, out of hours, no booze? Good luck with that one.
Unless an MP’s office is built around temperance (presumably not many in our history barring Joh Bjelke-Petersen’s in Queensland – and we could stand being corrected there – not too many staff are not going to hang around for off-hours socialising without the booze option. The slightly embarrassed staffers will head home as soon as politely possible. Some will peel away to licensed venues.
As Greens MP Jenny Leong pointed out, it might be safer for some people to be at an alcohol-served function inside the parliamentary premises than outside.
The call for more diversity among MPs is being enacted naturally by voters. But the idea that people would not seek to have their views hold sway over their peers, no matter how diverse the speaker and audience, seems utopian.
Sex and power
Obviously, sex reared its ugly head. “It started as flirting. She can’t stop it because it would cost her her job,” was one submission.
Another person said: “It’s very normalised, the MP and chief of staff sleeping with junior staff. The power dynamics were so unbalanced.”
These complaints must not be belittled. And the discourse about power imbalance is convincing in the main. Leong is one of the many participants slash observers to cite power imbalances as driving abuse, bullying and sexual harassment.
But this notion can also be limiting. It overlooks the manifold complex interactions that humans are prone to. And it generates such infantilising measures as Malcolm Turnbull’s ”bonk ban” on Coalition MPs and staff. And ”power imbalances” can never be the only explanation. It’s unreported, but the NSW Parliament has harboured cases of bullying directed upwards to a department supervisor by staff with subjective grievances.
Yes, power imbalances undoubtedly exist in a political structure. But look at the top of the political structure examined by Broderick (not including the governor), and who do we see? Gladys Berejiklian, grappling with her own private dramas. Dominic Perrottet? The mind boggles, frankly.
But this sort of idle speculation is just the thing to sustain media interest in such reports as that delivered by Broderick. Otherwise, the caravan moves on shockingly quickly. The continuing saturation coverage over the New York job sought by former deputy premier John Barilaro rests on the big picture but also the cartoon villain image of the man. Toxic cultures need their ambassadors. ”Names, names, names!”, demands Edina in Absolutely Fabulous – and so do we.
The pointy bit is criminal prosecutions, and of course one is afoot arising from events in Canberra. But as complaints become more broadbrush, we find ourselves bemoaning the great amorphous ”system” and not the actions of individuals. It’s the toxic culture, we say, and pat ourselves on the back. The boys’ club. Always the good ole boys’ club.
Changing expectations
On Friday Taylor said society’s expectations were different even from 10 years ago. Expectations will keep changing for the better. But a competitive structure of governance will always generate its passions and injustices.
Nearly 50 years ago, Gough Whitlam upbraided transport minister Charlie Jones in front of his cabinet colleagues. ”Jones, this is a s—house submission,” the Labor prime minister brayed. ”And you’re a s—house prime minister, so why don’t you go to the s—house,” Jones snapped back.
It was a 14-hour meeting. Nope, not acceptable now.
Taylor said she made that call – for perpetrators to quit Parliament – ”as a person, a human being, a mother, a daughter”.
Emotional stuff. Yet ultimately, like Greta Thunberg’s pointed and vague jeremiads against greedy humans who worship money, a report such as the one delivered by Broderick could end up could end up inhabiting our consciousness like the rousing ballads that ”say everything by saying nothing”. Bridge Over Troubled Water. Let It Be. I Want To Break Free. Something nobody could disagree with. Singalong, everybody, singalong.
Mark Sawyer is a journalist with extensive experience in print and digital media in Sydney, Melbourne and rural Australia.