Published Messenger Newspapers, Adelaide, May 5, 2004
GUILTY AS HELL, YET BLAMELESS
FOR barefaced audacity, nothing comes close to the case of a Sydney teacher who was recently awarded $28,000 workers compensation for “psychological injury” after being sacked for having an affair with a 15 year old schoolgirl. It is not clear from what I read whether the stress he suffered was a result of being sacked or from having to deal with a 15 year old girl, who can be emotional trainwrecks. Either way, his “injury” would appear to be self-inflicted and he will get no sympathy from me, much less $28,000. Puzzling awards for damages are a sign of the “no fault, no blame” times we live in. Or the Bart Simpson Defence – “It wasn't me, I didn't do it, I wasn't even there!” - when the evidence of his guilt lies all around. Is it ever possible for someone to be guilty yet blameless? Yes, it is. Take snoring, for example. Your partner's snoring keeps you awake and you have to sleep on the lumpy sofa, which puts your back out. The partner is definitely responsible for your injured back but, since snoring cannot be helped, she is blameless. Even so, she should be shown no mercy. The first time I heard the term “no fault” came with the divorce law reform of the 1970s, which led to the creation of the Family Court. The reformers took a grown-up view of divorce as a private matter between adults and not a spectator sport. As a consequence, lurid cases of adultery no longer could be reported in the newspapers, notably Truth which eventually folded along with its educational Heart Balm advice column. Since then federal governments have fiddled with the Family Court and now, under the stamp of “family values”, mandatory mediation is proposed for the parties involved in divorce cases. The point of any mediation, I presume, is to bring together two people, of their own free will, who are prepared to bring goodwill to bear on their conflict. Yet forcing combatants together against their will is not mediation, not in my book, and not in divorce cases, which could be downright dangerous. Her: “You don't know what it's like raising three boys by myself, being the taxi driver, juggling sports events, never having time for a life of my own.” Him: “Here, stop your whingeing, have a diary.” The divorce rate has skyrocketed under the “no fault” system to the point where a third of all marriages break up. I doubt if compulsory mediation will reverse the trend. Perhaps we should return to the old-style divorce courts where the fear of public embarrassment in the press possibly kept many couples together and “saved” their marriages. Embarrassment seems not to have been a factor in the case of the stressed teacher. I read that he is living with the same girl, who is now 19. With any luck, she snores like a braking truck.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Published Messenger Newspapers, Adelaide, April 28, 2004
30 YEARS ENOUGH SECRECY
THIRTY years ago, Don Dunstan was at his tumultuous - some might say traumatic - peak. Pushing through legislative reforms that altered the lives of all South Australians, the Dunstan Decade turned the State into a social laboratory, relaxing laws on everything from drinking hours to homosexual acts. To his supporters, Dunstan was a civilising influence; to his genteel Adelaide opponents, a fine Establishment education was utterly wasted on him. Messiah or Caligula, he had a remarkable capacity to polarise people, which continues beyond the grave. What cannot be disputed is his place in our shared political history and we all have an interest in knowing how he governed, what happened and why. It cannot always have been easy. Early on, he did not have control of the Upper House and among his own ranks he had to deal with the Labor hard nuts who found his flamboyance and rounded vowels unsettling, to say the least. Cabinet meetings must have been a treat, should we ever have the chance of finding out. Dunstan's private papers and memorabilia including photographs of him in a variety of costumes - in lederhosen and lifting barbells in check shorts - is held by the Flinders University Library. Access to the collection is controlled by a committee which can also deny access. Fair enough, I suppose, since it is his personal collection. But the real story of how SA changed under Dunstan is contained in the State Cabinet papers of the time, which are kept secret. Why? These are State documents, not personal ones. Why cannot we have a look now that almost all the Ministers are dead. Why is there no 30 year rule? Federal Cabinet papers are released annually on the expiry of 30 years. This year's lucky dip covered the Whitlam Government's tumultuous - some would say traumatic - year of 1973. In rare cases, State Cabinet documents do eventually see the light of day. For example, the Scotland Yard report into the drowning of George Duncan in the River Torrens in 1972 was released after 30 years - by the Rann Government. Mike Rann was a key Dunstan adviser in the era’s closing years and he is still a devoted Keeper of the Flame., Mr Rann gave a speech at last year's Film Festival and people beforehand were laying bets on the number of times he would mention Dunstan's name. I guessed 11. The final tally was 29. I have also heard Mr Rann say, as Dunstan said before him: “Some things are beyond politics.” Everything is beyond politics, including the release of Cabinet papers after 30 years. One would have thought Mr Rann, of all people, would support their annual release, if only for the sake of the Dunstan legacy. And for Mr Rann's own legacy in another 30 years.
30 YEARS ENOUGH SECRECY
THIRTY years ago, Don Dunstan was at his tumultuous - some might say traumatic - peak. Pushing through legislative reforms that altered the lives of all South Australians, the Dunstan Decade turned the State into a social laboratory, relaxing laws on everything from drinking hours to homosexual acts. To his supporters, Dunstan was a civilising influence; to his genteel Adelaide opponents, a fine Establishment education was utterly wasted on him. Messiah or Caligula, he had a remarkable capacity to polarise people, which continues beyond the grave. What cannot be disputed is his place in our shared political history and we all have an interest in knowing how he governed, what happened and why. It cannot always have been easy. Early on, he did not have control of the Upper House and among his own ranks he had to deal with the Labor hard nuts who found his flamboyance and rounded vowels unsettling, to say the least. Cabinet meetings must have been a treat, should we ever have the chance of finding out. Dunstan's private papers and memorabilia including photographs of him in a variety of costumes - in lederhosen and lifting barbells in check shorts - is held by the Flinders University Library. Access to the collection is controlled by a committee which can also deny access. Fair enough, I suppose, since it is his personal collection. But the real story of how SA changed under Dunstan is contained in the State Cabinet papers of the time, which are kept secret. Why? These are State documents, not personal ones. Why cannot we have a look now that almost all the Ministers are dead. Why is there no 30 year rule? Federal Cabinet papers are released annually on the expiry of 30 years. This year's lucky dip covered the Whitlam Government's tumultuous - some would say traumatic - year of 1973. In rare cases, State Cabinet documents do eventually see the light of day. For example, the Scotland Yard report into the drowning of George Duncan in the River Torrens in 1972 was released after 30 years - by the Rann Government. Mike Rann was a key Dunstan adviser in the era’s closing years and he is still a devoted Keeper of the Flame., Mr Rann gave a speech at last year's Film Festival and people beforehand were laying bets on the number of times he would mention Dunstan's name. I guessed 11. The final tally was 29. I have also heard Mr Rann say, as Dunstan said before him: “Some things are beyond politics.” Everything is beyond politics, including the release of Cabinet papers after 30 years. One would have thought Mr Rann, of all people, would support their annual release, if only for the sake of the Dunstan legacy. And for Mr Rann's own legacy in another 30 years.
