Mark Latham used to be a contender. Now he's just a termite chewing his way through through the wood-pile of embittered former party leaders like Malcolm Fraser and John Hewson.
He is the Howard Hughes of Australian politics. Brilliantly talented yet hopelessly flawed, a recluse unleashing his fury on a puzzled world.
Latham used to stand for good things, his scepticism about government as the solution, his refusal to go along with the latte sippers in the left and his sense of joyful menace directed at foes was all good stuff and many people loved him for it. Before he became leader at least, me included. As his anti-Americanism became obvious though, it became clear to me that he wasn't fit to be a Labor leader and I believe the nation was truly blessed that he failed to get elected PM.
MAD MARK IS JUST MEAN MARK
But how the mighty have fallen. The author who can only get published when dissing his own. The one-time sceptic of lefty dogma who now paints an apocalyptic vision of the end of times due to climate change. The self-admitted master of campaign stunts when he worked for NSW Premier Bob Carr now condemning the "crisis" invention of politicians and journalists alike.
It's rich. Almost as rich as the defined benefit scheme Parliamentary superannuation he cops, courtesy of the Labor party he now so freely slags for selling-out. Defined benefit superannuation schemes for politicians were too generous, in a sense disguising their true salaries. When they were scrapped for legislators, they probably ought to have been scrapped for the judiciary and others too.
And yet it's interesting to contemplate that all the politicians of the future will have no choice but to plan second careers, most often probably in murky areas like lobbying or other fields where they can sell their access or their knowledge of government. Cutting their overly generous super scheme made sense but I don't think anyone pondered what the consequences would be.
That's just one troubling aspect of Mark Latham's legacy to Australian public life.
Click on the graphics below for a rich treasure trove of humbug, lefty apocalyptism of the Gore school and the biggest dose of grumpiness you'll cop since the last time you tuned into Phillip Adams on Radio National.
|