Few political staffers are as bad as Bruce Lehrmann was. Most don’t lie to their ministers and chiefs of staff, as Lehrmann admits. Few make their way back to Parliament House after a night on the tiles to, at least according to them, either continue drinking or work on secure documents, depending on which of Lehrmann’s contradictory claims you accept. Hardly any end up accused of sexual assault.
But does anyone, including Lehrmann’s diehard supporters at News Corp and Kerry Stokes’ media company, not now have at least some reservations about the system we’ve evolved in Australia, in which key policy roles in minister’s officers are often filled by young men and women with little or no expertise in the relevant policy field, who are primarily chosen because of their political party connections and/or membership of a suitable political faction?
The problem was particularly acute under the Morrison government, not because Liberal or National staffers are any poorer quality than Labor staffers, but because Morrison had a clear policy of locking the public service out of policy development and placing that function in the offices of ministers, with hand-picked consultants on stand-by to provide whatever modelling was required to justify a politically preferred policy.
The commitment of Labor to restoring the public service to a meaningful policy role reduces this problem, but doesn’t end it. Politicians are elected by citizens. Public servants are chosen on merit. Political staffers are neither. Politicians are accountable at the ballot box. Public servants are accountable to Parliament. Political staffers are, again, neither. Yet they wield substantial power and are remunerated by taxpayers. They are an integrity and accountability black hole.
How much of a black hole can be seen by listing the various scandals that have occurred in ministerial offices in recent times:
- The staff member of Michaelia Cash who unlawfully leaked details of what turned out to be an invalid police raid on the Australian Workers’ Union, with allegations of destruction of evidence and refusal to cooperate with police.
- The staff member of Angus Taylor who sent a fraudulent document to journalists about Sydney Lord Mayor Clover Moore.
- The leaking by Peter Dutton’s office of a classified briefing about Kerryn Phelps’ “medevac” bill.
- Coalition staffers who filmed themselves engaging in sex acts in Parliament House.
- Victorian Labor’s notorious “red shirts” scandal in which taxpayer-funded electorate staffers undertook political work.
- The widespread use of Victorian Labor ministerial staffers for branch stacking.
- Coalition staff, including those working for then-prime minister Scott Morrison, unlawfully sharing a copy of Malcolm Turnbull’s book prior to publication.
- Staff in the Prime Minister’s Office backgrounding against Brittany Higgins’ partner David Sharaz.
- A series of scandals involving staff in the office of NSW Transport Minister Jo Haylen.
- A Coalition staffer who sent misogynistic abuse to a female journalist.
These are, obviously, separate from the multitude of examples of abusive behaviour, assault, sexual harassment and bullying inflicted by ministers and shadow ministers of both sides on staffers and electorate employees, exploiting a power dynamic in which a minister or shadow minister holds all power and a staffer none.
Political staffers can’t be judged by the misbehaviour of the worst of them, any more than public servants or politicians should be. But we return to the central point that both politicians and public servants are accountable in different ways; in the case of public servants, as Mike Pezzullo discovered, there’s also an enforceable code of conduct to which they must adhere. In very few of the cases listed above did any staffer (or minister) suffer any negative consequences.
The question for ministers is what is the value-add from political staffers, other than specialists such as media officers? Between the 1980s and early 2000s, the number of ministerial staff more than doubled at the federal level to around 400. These days, the government has around 450 to 460. The opposition has another 100-odd. At the state level, the growth in staffer numbers has sometimes been even more extreme. The recent Victorian Ombudsman’s report on the extent of the politicisation of the Victorian public service revealed that Daniel Andrews’ office as premier had doubled in size to more than 80 staff, or as many as the offices of the prime minister and the NSW premier combined.
Has policy development in the public sector demonstrably improved in recent decades as staffers have become a more numerous and important feature in Commonwealth and state governments? Have governments become more politically adroit with such large numbers of in-house advisers? Did the standard of Victorian public policy double with the size of Daniel Andrews’ office? Has the overall standard of public life improved at all?
It is the major political parties that have driven that expansion in staffer numbers. What do they — let alone the public that pays for them — have to show for that?
And who, specifically, do staffers really work for? There’s a strong argument to be made that the proliferation of staffers has made governments more risk-averse, as ministers now have a coterie of advisers who have a direct financial and career interest in ensuring the minister remains in office. Their advice may thus — consciously or otherwise — be shaped to minimise any risk to their minister and to place the public interest second behind political survival in their motivations.
The role of a political staffer doesn’t serve the public interest; it may not even serve the political interests of a party if that party is committed to pursuing genuine, politically risky reform. It primarily serves the staffer themselves, as one of the lower steps on the ladder into public life as an MP or a professional career adjacent to public policy, as a consultant, lobbyist or statutory board member.
Appointed without merit or democratic legitimacy, accountable to no-one, without any clear value even to governments — the value of staffers should be closely scrutinised. Maybe it’s time for a substantial overhaul of staffing. Ministers can keep chiefs of staff and deputy chiefs of staff as political roles, along with media officers and electorate officers. But subject advisers should have demonstrated expertise, and draw far more heavily on the public service, with a corresponding lessening of their political role — and their vulnerability to abuse by ministers. Can anyone argue this would diminish the quality of public policy?
