Saturday 2 July 2016

Malcolm Turnbull's on rocky ground even while he pitches stability

Peel it back and Malcolm Turnbull’s pitch for re-election is not really a policy, or a manifesto, but something far more subjective. Stability. And if voters think it through, that’s one thing he cannot promise for sure.
He does have policies and he has argued them forcefully. But when he promises economic and political stability, he’s really holding out the prospect of respite, of an end to political upheaval and leadership challenges. He’s offering the mundane possibility of a government that just gets on with doing a competent job.
He hasn’t asked us to suspend disbelief entirely; he hasn’t been storming the nation with a manifesto that fired the national imagination. No Sandersesque call for a revolution, no Trump-like promise of greatness, just a gee-up about how these are terrifically exciting times and a modest request for a bit more of a go because he has a plan that might take away that nagging fear about where the economy is heading and what new plot is going to explode in Canberra and wouldn’t that be nice. The #realtradie summed up the limited ambition of the Coalition’s message when he suggested “we should just see it through and stick with the current mob for a while”.
When you think about it, Turnbull didn’t have a lot of choice. He had not unpicked the Abbott agenda, he’d prevaricated too long over taxation policy, and he hadn’t fully exerted his authority over the party’s smarting and suspicious conservative wing.
So he strode into the campaign armed mostly with his own capabilities – his barrister’s art of oratory and persuasion, the self-confidence that has marked every stage of his career, and the assertion that he was the only man with a plan for economic and political stability.
His “plan” was mostly $48bn worth of corporate tax cuts over the next decade and small tax cuts for middle- and high-income earners. And for a time it looked like that might set the scene for a real ideological battle: Turnbull’s tax cuts versus Shorten’s message of inclusive growth – that spending on health and education to prevent rising inequality was a prerequisite for growth, not something that could be afforded after the benefits of tax cuts “trickled down” through the economy.
But despite eight long weeks on the hustings we never really got full answers to big questions about the asserted economic and political “certainties” of the company tax cuts plan.
Treasury modelling showed they would boost economic growth. But there was no way to compare that increase (0.6% of gross national income in a decade) with other things that might have been done with the money. Economists questioned how much of the benefit would flow offshore in the form of higher profits for foreign firms. And when asked how he would make up for the revenue forgone, Turnbull would point to a graph showing the budget returning to a slim surplus (0.2% of GDP) in 2020-21 and say this proved that the growth dividend and other Coalition savings would fill the revenue hole just fine. But again there was no detail, and no explanation of what he’d do if the “uncertain times” he so often warned us about changed those forecasts, which they almost certainly will. Would he delay the return to surplus or make more cuts to spending. And if so, where?
One glance at the international economic situation shows no government can promise economic stability. The tax cuts were a vehicle for Turnbull’s assertion that he’d be a better bet than Labor but without the detail that could prove the case.
The tax cuts could also fall victim to his inability to deliver on his “political certainty” promise. Despite the Senate voting changes, the double-dissolution election is likely to deliver a Senate just as unwieldy as the last one – with Turnbull reliant on votes from Nick Xenophon’s Team and an assortment of others that might include Jacqui Lambie, Derryn Hinch and Pauline Hanson. A Guardian Australia survey last week showed that would put a big question mark on the big business tax cuts and a lot more of Turnbull’s agenda besides.
And that’s before we consider how the Coalition conservatives are spoiling for a fight with the socially Liberal Turnbull, in the first instance over whether Australia legally recognises same-sex marriage. Turnbull has ended the campaign trying to “flick the switch” back to the consensus-driven centrist prime minister intent upon “bringing the country together” and “ending ideological divisions”, but Abbott couldn’t even wait until the votes were counted to implicitly berate his successor for not beating the drum on national security like he would have. Turnbull’s right-hand man, Arthur Sinodinos, sent the not-so-subtle return volley, a win, no matter how slim the margin would mean Turnbull’s authority was “greatly enhanced”.
Turnbull ran a disciplined campaign given he had so little to announce or say. He’s known for his impatient intellect, so watching with interest during everything that crossed his path on the hustings was not his natural game, but he even made it through a several-minutes-long rendition of We Are Australian played on a gumleaf.
But Shorten ran a far stronger race than the Liberals expected, based on bold policies for higher spending on education and health and cuts to highly generous tax concessions to which better-off Australians have become accustomed, for housing investments and retirement savings. He did pique voters’ interest. They responded to his pitch on Medicare, even if the claim the Liberals were about to privatise it was overblown. But he never quite “owned” the economic narrative. At senior levels the Labor party was uncertain how far to push the economic policy differentiation, which left it with spending policies that increased its forecast near-term deficits to levels higher than the Coalition’s, but without the clearly explained rationale to deflect the inevitable accusation that this made Labor a risk to the economy.
Turnbull set out to win over the disaffected with reassurance but seemed to leave the electorate nonplussed and uncertain. His net satisfaction rating plummeted from +38 when he was elected to around -14. Shorten set out to inspire but didn’t quite inspire enough. His net satisfaction rose steadily, to leave the two leaders now almost level pegging.
By campaign’s end somewhere between 23% and 27% of voters were intending to vote for the Greens or independents (higher than the last peak in 2013). A large proportion were still undecided. Turnbull was taking out full-page newspaper ads trying to hammer home his implausible claim that unless they switched to the Coalition the country would descend into “chaos”.
Polls suggest Turnbull’s small-target campaign will get him there, but narrowly. But polls have been wrong before. Voters wanted something more inspiring. They weren’t just disillusioned with the political process, they were disillusioned with the policies on offer and were casting around for something new and exciting.
Turnbull didn’t offer it. He had no policies at all on higher education or industrial relations or vocational education or the arts.
There’s both opportunity and risk in winning an election with so many big blank spaces in your mandate.
But that’s not the biggest risk for Turnbull if he achieves the ultimate culmination of his life’s ambition on Saturday.
He’s pushing the majority government pitch so hard in the election’s dying days because he desperately needs sufficient command of the parliament and enough authority over his own restless colleagues to have even a chance of delivering the biggest thing he’s promised. Stability

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