There won't be a statue. No parade in the streets. Hardly even a champagne cork will fly, let alone the issuing of a public statement. But quietly, no doubt, Chief Minister Andrew Barr would have marked the milestone.
Barr became the ACT's longest serving Chief Minister this week, overtaking his former boss, Jon Stanhope, the Labor stalwart turned political thorn-in-the-side.
After nearly a decade in power, there is no sign Barr faces an upset loss at the upcoming election.
The Liberals would need to win four seats to defeat Labor and form a majority, or somehow - miraculously - cut a deal with the Greens. Independents offer a slim path to power for the experienced opposition, but none have been elected for more than 20 years.
A Liberals win also appears unlikely given the ACT's support for a progressive agenda, meaning Barr's a political leader who has the rare opportunity to pursue reform and see it through.
But if Labor loses the election on October 19, don't expect Barr to stick around. His political career has been spent entirely on the front bench of territory governments. The scrappy, frenetic task of opposition is of little interest to a man used to making decisions.
The more interesting question is what happens if Barr wins another term?
Four years ago, Barr acknowledged he was "possibly in the final quarter" of his political career. He'd entered the Legislative Assembly in 2006 and became Chief Minister in December 2014. But after federal Labor's election success in 2022, which he said put the "adults in charge", Barr said he'd stick around.
"I'm the most optimistic I've been about our economy and our city's future. The change of federal government has fundamentally altered the nature of federal, state and territory relations," Barr said in August 2022.
As the only COVID-era first minister left, the final siren, to borrow Barr's football analogy, is approaching.
But an uncertain succession plan, a government that is now undeniably getting long in the tooth and a legacy that needs cementing, means the terrain of territory politics after Barr is still to be mapped.
'Not about being popular'
Barr entered the Legislative Assembly in 2006 in a vote countback. He was instantly promoted to the ministry in the Stanhope government. In his first speech, Barr reached for wisdom from one of his political idols.
"Paul Keating said, 'Leadership is not about being popular. It's about being right, about being strong. It's about doing what you think the nation requires'," Barr said.
"I think that argument has more currency now than it possibly did then. Good government is about making difficult decisions in the long-term interests of the community."
Barr has not shied away from difficult decisions: a long-term program that cuts stamp duty but drives up general rates, walking away from a Civic stadium that he championed, pushing the ACT into debt to weather the COVID crises, and forging ahead with light rail.
In his first speech he spoke of the intergenerational equity budget surpluses provided. Surpluses have proved elusive to him. Instead, Barr's focus has shifted, arguing multi-generational projects that provide for Canberra's future should not be paid for upfront and their unavoidable costs spread out into the future.
The period of the Barr government may well be remembered as the one where self-government in the territory had to chart more of its own course and spend its own money, unable to rely any longer on the shape of the city as it was handed over in 1989, to serve Canberra's needs.
But one of the most difficult decisions Barr now faces is shoring up his long-term legacy with the need to pass on the baton.
Next in line
As Deputy Chief Minister, Yvette Berry should be the natural successor to Barr but there's a sizable contingent of anyone-but-Berry backers in the Labor Party.
They are eager to prevent, through whatever factional manoeuvring needed, the ascension of someone they believe to be a poor public communicator and without adequate grasp on the fine detail.
Berry, who followed her father into the Legislative Assembly, is deputy leader for factional reasons. She is from the left and enjoys union backing.
Berry is well-meaning and she genuinely cares about policy work but she struggles to communicate this in public, especially when under pressure. She quickly flusters when she's asked about things she is not prepared for.
Berry is very reliant on the advice from her directorates and staff and sometimes this has caused her strife. She is a witness in an Integrity Commission investigation which has examined whether her former chief of staff influenced the outcome of a tender process at the behest of the unions.
An active integrity investigation puts a hold on her leadership ambitions. Even a complete exoneration of her actions won't leave her untarnished: a finding that her staff went rogue would still damage, if not destroy, her political reputation.
There was also the botched public housing tenant relocation scheme, where tenants suffered "significant distress" after receiving letters telling them they would be evicted from their homes. Berry was forced to apologise for Housing ACT's handling of the process. The scheme was designed on her watch.
Many in Labor fear the prospect of a Berry leadership.
Any sign that Barr was about to pull the plug would set off many conversations between party operatives eager to prevent Berry from taking over.
So the question is if not Berry, who?
A logical choice
Barr's most logical successor is Health Minister Rachel Stephen-Smith but she will need to be willing to rock the boat and make some enemies in her left faction in order to make it happen. Logic and politics do not always go hand in hand, after all.
Stephen-Smith has definitely been Barr's most prominent minister this term. The COVID pandemic meant her face was beamed into screens on a daily basis and her role as Health Minister means she is never far away from the headlines, not all of them positive.
The health system has faced a number of issues over the last term from serious cultural problems, issues with training accreditation, concerns about the care of seriously unwell children, "critical shortcomings" in maternity, the nation's worst emergency department wait times and health staff shortages.
Stephen-Smith is more willing than most ministers in the ACT government to front up to the issues. While she can often deflect and come across as a little condescending, she mostly handles herself well.
While she could make a play for the deputy leadership now to firm up her position in the line of succession, Stephen-Smith is probably aware she will have to wait before making any moves, lest she upset her faction. The left is the dominant faction in Labor's ACT branch, but although members bind their votes, they do not all think the same.
Any move Stephen-Smith makes would call in a career's worth of favours, and no doubt burn several bridges, too. In politics, timing is everything.
When Barr leaves, Stephen-Smith would need to secure the support of the right faction in order to leapfrog Berry. This is achievable, unless the right wishes to put up one of their own.
The up and comer
The right's Chris Steel, the man Barr has put in charge of the government's signature light rail project, is considered their up and comer with the most leadership potential.
When things have gone wrong for the government this term, Steel has frequently been the man who's had to front up and explain. Light rail costs? Sorry, they're commercial in confidence. Can't talk about them. How much wasted on a failed HR system upgrade? Steel had to say it was $78 million. He stopped more money being flushed away but he had to weather the fallout as though he personally shredded the cash.
Steel had to intervene when the Canberra Institute of Technology was revealed to have signed a multi-million dollar contract with a "complexity and systems thinker" that's now the subject of a long-running integrity investigation. Was it his call? Certainly not. But it has been his face associated with the story.
Steel plays with a straight bat. His delivery, laced with detail and unwaveringly deadpan whether it's in front of journalists or in the Legislative Assembly, is an indicator of how seriously he takes the job. He's not here to joke around, he wants to get things done. But it comes off as robotic and uncaring. Focused on detail, Steel can appear dismissive.
Steel has been tapped in the past by Barr as a future treasurer, the portfolio that marks a step towards the party's leadership. But despite Barr telling The Canberra Times in 2020, after the last election, that he would be handing his long-held treasury responsibilities over in 2022 or 2023, it's now 2024 and the Chief Minister is still in command of the budget.
Besides, Steel achieved a long-held ambition in December to take on the planning portfolio, a powerful job in a planned city. The 38-year-old has talked about the importance of bringing transport and planning together. Add responsibility for the treasury on top? It would seem an unnecessary burden for a man who has a big agenda: light rail to Woden and more housing, better designed, as soon as possible.
The dark horse
Beyond the three, it's hard to imagine anybody else in the Labor party as the next chief minister. If anyone could pull a Steven Bradbury, it would be City Services Minister Tara Cheyne.
Cheyne, a very popular local member, has proved her worth as a minister this term. She led the government's voluntary assisted dying laws and attracted big praise from Barr from doing so.
"The minister who has led this work for the ACT, an appointment I was very proud to make after the 2020 territory election and one that I'm even prouder today that I made is to put Tara Cheyne at the forefront of this work," Barr said last week.
Cheyne is from the right faction. She narrowly missed out on becoming a minister last term due to factional reasons but she should have no such fears about being shafted to the backbench following this year's election.
Why the rush?
Of course, Barr could hang around. He is only 51 years old. As far politics goes, being a Labor ACT chief minister is a sweet gig. No late-night sittings anymore, a small cabinet and caucus to wrangle and a few interesting international trade missions a year. Combined state and local government functions mean it's quick to get policy up and running, too.
Not to mention the nearly $400,000 annual pay.
Australia's longest serving premier, South Australia's Sir Thomas Playford, spent more than a quarter of a century in the job. Barr is still marginally behind South Australia's Don Dunstan and NSW's Bob Carr in the length-of-service stakes. Barr also has nothing on Sir Henry Parkes, who was 77 when he left the premiership of NSW for the final time in 1891. Barr wasn't born when Joe Biden, 81, was first sworn in as a United States senator. Even Stanhope did not become chief minister until he was 50.
Chatter about Barr's future is almost as old as his chief ministership. The rumour mill spins on talks of a position in the AFL or federal politics. A house down, or even up, the coast is a frequent source of speculation. Barr has previously said he wouldn't mind being involved in the push for Australia republic, but after the Voice referendum there is little momentum for constitutional change.
Or could there be some way to leverage being a passionate Canberran into a paid gig advocating for the city?
Six years ago, Barr condemned the "small-town, backwards, 1940s mindset" of older Canberrans opposed to tall buildings. "And we need to move beyond that," he said in the Assembly.
Barr sees his legacy as one of modernising the capital. He's spoken often of his generation feeling like they needed to leave town to make a go of things. Success, in his view, is of people finishing school and choosing to stick around, not feeling like they would miss out on anything because they picked Canberra over the world.
Having pushed the city in that direction, Barr looks to be in that unusual position in politics: the only person who needs to call time on his leadership is him.
