Sometimes, in the heat of discussion you go a little bit further than you would if it were an absolutely calm, considered, prepared, scripted remark.
. . . .
The statements that need to be taken absolutely as gospel truth is [sic] those carefully prepared, scripted remarks.
Tony Abbott, being interviewed by Kerry O'Brien on the 7:30 Report, 17 May 2010
It's been fascinating to see how Tony Abbott's rise to the top of Australian political life has forced public consideration of communication and integrity. Last week it got even more interesting. For years the public has been saying that we don't trust lying politicians, and all we want is someone who will come along and just say what they really believe, without massaging the truth in an ugly attempt to win votes. Last Saturday I attended a Sydney Writers' Festival event in which the journalist Annabel Crabb criticised people like Kevin Rudd for using grey filler speech to mark time and obscure the truth. She described such speech as risk-free because the speaker never commits themself to anything in clear speech.1 Interestingly, former NSW Premier Nathan Rees then pointed out that even if politicians go the other way they lose, because - like Tony Abbott - they get accused of being volatile and unreliable.
So is this what's happened to Tony Abbott? Was The Sydney Institute's Gerard Henderson right when, on last Sunday's Insiders program, he said: "all he was saying really was there's a difference between the printed word and the spoken word, and everyone knows that's true . . . . if he's saying that the spoken word is not very precise: the spoken word is not very precise." Or was Abbott admitting that he sometimes lies when he speaks? In which case, it all becomes very postmodern - should we admire him for being honest about his dishonesty, or should we ignore the fact that he was being honest and criticise his dishonesty?
The whole issue gets still more interesting when you consider the specific issue about which Kerry O'Brien accused Abbott of backflipping. David Marr, on the same Insiders program, pointed out:
[T]his is the crucial point about the whole thing. Why couldn't he say, "We've changed our mind"? The curious thing is in the political culture of this country he chose to say "I'm occasionally a lier," rather than say, "Look we've changed our mind on the position of tax". . . . . Here is an example of where there's a big line: "We are not going to impose any new taxes". Then they decided - or Tony decided - that they were going to tax some businesses in order to pay for parental leave. Now why couldn't he say, "Kerry O'Brien, we've changed our mind on that" - because, in fact, that change of mind was not something that came in the heat of the moment. . . . . Nobody will do it. Nobody will say- and yet our whole political system is based on the notion of debate and trying to convince one another of the right position. But nobody is willing to say, "You've got a point there and we've changed our mind".
It seems as if, on the one hand, we know that politicians are just ordinary people and we want them not to try and pretend they're something they are not. We want them to be honest and authentic. Yet at the same time, we expect them to be perfect. We want them to speak honestly each time they speak and we want them to settle on a position on the first go. It looks like we're caught between that thing we Australians know so well - that no-one's perfect - and a strange desire for a better man. I think there's good in both and I think it will always be a messy business. Ultimately, I think what we're looking for is something truely Good, but a good that doesn't pretend the stuff-ups and shortcomings aren't there. Maybe I'm drawing a long bow, but I think the impossible expectations we place on our politicians reveal our nation's yearning for Jesus.
1 22 May 2010, 'Programmatic Specificity We Can Believe In'