Good democracy or childish nonsense?

By ALEXANDRIA CAUGHEY
THE noise is almost deafening. Seated behind their desks, each one more desperate than the next for their name-calling and yelling to be heard above everyone else. Some seem to have a total inability to wait their turn. The ones who really misbehave are sent outside to think about what they’ve done.

All the while, the increasingly frustrated man at the front of the room is trying his best to regain order. The question is, where does chaos like this exist? In a Year One classroom perhaps? Alas, no. This scene comes from within our very own Federal House of Representatives.

As the Members of Parliament begin to file in, down on the chamber floor they are animated and loud, chatting and laughing with each other. They appear nonchalant to the speaker’s repeated requests that they hurry to take their seats.

The speaker does not even call on the first MP before the chamber is filled with uproar. The speaking member is mocked and criticised by those opposite them. However, teaching fellow and political communication lecturer at the University of Canberra Josh Rosner doesn’t believe such theatrics compromise the authority of question time.

“There needs to be some order to the process, but that there is some theatrics to it, as long as the business is achieved. . . . Some of the great moments of question time have been entirely theatrical,” he said.

In theory, the concept of question time seems to be an effective way for the opposing and minority parties to have equal opportunity to express concerns and achieve accountability. That is good in theory. But the whole event is increasingly frustrating. The questions are loaded, clearly aimed at trashing the party they’re directed to rather than encouraging intellectual debate. Mr Rosner agreed but said that it didn’t have to be a negative.

“It is used not so much to get information but to trip up the Minister or show deficiencies or defects,”he said. “Is it missing the point or not the purpose? I would say no. Those things are still relevant to democracy” he said.

The answers are worse. Rarely do they address the issue and if there was not a set amount of time per answer, the off-topic dribble could probably go on forever. Member for Molonglo, Gai Brodtmann, disagrees and believes that the questions are usually based on policy.

“Questions tend to come from a policy angle,” she said. “There is a twist but it is based in a policy element,” she said.

The members appear anything but engaged. Short of yelling and cat-calling at the opposing party they seem more interested in surfing the internet, chatting with their neighbours or (appearing to be) sleeping. Ms Brodtmann pointed out that question time was more significant for the front benchers and that it was a way for the public to engage with discussion in the chamber.

“It is a good way of explaining to the Australian people what is going in government,” she said.

Dignitaries from other countries often visit the House of Representatives, many from developing nations with ever-evolving government and political practices. In some ways, this display of ‘idyllic democracy’ is embarrassing. It comes off as shallow and pointless, the members as callous and uninterested. How was it that such an unprofessional, immature tradition emerged in one of Australia’s most prestigious, decorum-reliant institutions?

Just as faith in the whole system is starting to waiver, it happens. A member asks a proper question about policy that warrants an explanation to changes to the superannuation scheme. The Minister for Financial Services and Superannuation, Bill Shorten, steps up to the call and what follows could have come straight from a movie.

Shorten is clearly not one to be fazed over the Liberal members’ interjection and dissent. His loud voice fills the chamber, announcing good news for the country. Shorten appears excited and those in the public gallery sit up and can’t help being swept up in his passion. His charisma shines through with confidence and wit.

The policy, raising compulsory employers’ super contributions from nine to 12 per cent, was only fair he said, especially since politicians get 15. The Liberals began calling out that it was their policy but Shorten called their bluff, telling them to back that by voting for it. He concluded that to reject the 12 per cent for Australians, while keeping their 15 per cent, would be nothing short of hypocritical. He returned to his seat with cheers and clapping from the public gallery, one man getting particularly swept up in the moment.

The speech, while not regarding a particularly riveting topic, was delivered with such enthusiasm and passion for bettering the lives of ordinary Australians that it was hard not to get caught up. This was what democracy is about. Perhaps question time is just like Australian politics in general. If you wade through enough rhetoric and spin, underneath it all is that idyllic democracy we all hope for.