An email landed in my inbox not long after the National Anti-Corruption Commission announced its refusal to investigate the robodebt scandal.
It was from Michael Griffin, a robodebt victim. Griffin, like countless others, descended into a spiral of shock and shame after he was wrongly told to repay a $3,197 welfare debt in late 2016.
I’d asked Griffin what he made of the Nacc’s decision.
His response was blunt: “Weak as piss.”
“Hearing this news makes it is clear there is no pathway to justice for the victims of robodebt,” he wrote.
That sentiment will be widely felt among robodebt victims.
For all the groundbreaking work of the royal commission, there remains a perception that those responsible for one of the most catastrophic failures of government in Australian history have not been fully held to account.
The Nacc was asked to consider investigating six unnamed individuals referred to it by the royal commission.
It took almost a year to decide it would not do so.
In a statement explaining its decision, the Nacc said it did not want to duplicate the work of other agencies and didn’t have the investigative powers of the royal commission, so would be unlikely to unearth new evidence.
Five of the referred individuals, it said, were already subject to investigations by the Australian Public Sector Commission and the Nacc said it was undesirable to have multiple investigations into the same conduct.
Strangely, the Nacc also noted that it could not “provide any individual remedy or redress for the recipients of government payments or their families who suffered due to the robodebt scheme”.
Those comments are sure to grate robodebt victims. They looked to the Nacc not for compensation or redress, but for justice against those responsible.
They looked to the Nacc to hold individuals to account in a way that the royal commission was unable to do, by examining whether the evidence unearthed was enough to make out positive findings of corruption.
The laws that govern the Nacc make clear that it can treat breaches of public trust and abuses of public office as forms of corrupt conduct.
It is difficult to imagine a greater breach of trust and abuse of powers than the conception, operation and defence of the illegal robodebt scheme.
But the Nacc’s decision means we will not know whether this conduct meets the threshold of corrupt conduct.
It bears remembering that the robodebt royal commissioner, Catherine Holmes, clearly thought the Nacc’s involvement was important. She delayed handing down her findings precisely for this reason, wanting to wait until the Nacc was operational and able to receive referrals.
The fate of individuals now largely lies with the Australian Public Service Commission, an agency that investigates breaches of the public sector code of conduct and can only terminate employment or reduce salaries for those still employed in the public service. It is unclear how many still would be.
The APSC has investigated 16 individuals through a special taskforce, which is expected to make its results public next month.
Not long after Griffin’s email, I heard from another figure central to the robodebt saga: whistleblower and former Centrelink worker Colleen Taylor.
“[The Nacc decision] leaves me saddened and worried that we are getting further away from any accountability,” she said. “Whoever does the investigation, I want the deception and lies to be accountable. The victims of robodebt deserve no less.”
