03/04/2023

Governments are handing out vast amounts of money at speed with less supervision as they try to stem the economic pain of the pandemic. It’s a recipe for trouble.

With huge amounts of cash slushing around Canberra and the big hand of government in full swing, the potential for corruption, nepotism, maladministration and waste is enormous.
For self-proclaimed fiscal conservatives on the Liberal side, one would hope they could recognise the case for an investigative body keeping up the pressure for taxpayer value for money.
The government has been under pressure for years from Labor’s Mark Dreyfus, the Greens and independents to set up a national integrity commission. Berejiklian’s career-threatening appearance at ICAC this week reignited those calls.
Morrison government talking points, which were widely distributed by accident this week, to justify its two-year delay on fulfilling an election commitment to set up an integrity commission, noted there are “more immediate priorities concerning the management of the COVID recovery”.
Heaven help us when the Commonwealth is splashing out $260 billion in stimulus payments to everyone and their dog.
Actually, the extraordinary government actions during COVID are precisely why an integrity watchdog is now imperative and overdue.
Instead, last week’s federal budget cut millions of dollars from the Auditor-General’s operating budget, ignoring its request for more money to conduct performance audits.
In Canberra, some public service chiefs breathed a sigh of relief.
It is the same Auditor-General who in September delivered scathing criticisms of the “ethical standards” of federal Infrastructure Department officials for overpaying $26.7 million to a billionaire property owner for land slated for Sydney’s second airport.
Heaven help us when the Commonwealth is splashing out $260 billion in COVID stimulus payments to everyone and their dog.
Crown Resorts revelations
Moreover, the stunning revelations at the current NSW casino inquiry into Crown Resorts further demonstrate why the close nexus between the political class and business needs independent scrutiny and coercive investigative powers.
Crown is filled with well-connected former Labor and Liberal politicians who joined James Packer’s gaming group soon after exiting politics.
The Morrison government in 2019 ordered an inquiry into the allegations surrounding Crown, after media revelations about its alleged links to money laundering and the federal governments fast-tracking of visas for the casino’s Chinese high rollers.
It took forensic and fearless media reporting by Nine’s 60 Minutes and The Age to force the government’s hand.
Attorney-General Christian Porter referred the allegations to the Australian Commission for Law Enforcement Integrity, which has primarily investigated if federal officials did the wrong thing in their dealings with Crown.
Porter has been much slower to act on setting up a broader Commonwealth integrity commission.
To be sure, he has been busy doing important work during the pandemic, trying to hammer out a new industrial relations system with business and unions.
(As an aside, an integrity commission in Victoria would be wise to delve into why heavily unionised industries such as construction and manufacturing faced less draconian shutdown orders from the Labor state government compared with powerless small business operators who had their operations destroyed by government decree.)
Prime Minister Scott Morrison originally dismissed calls for a national corruption watchdog as a “fringe issue”. But he relented in December 2018 and with Porter announced a new national investigative body would be formed, and released a 21-page consultation paper on proposals for a model.
There has been little public movement in the almost two years that have passed.
Porter released a statement this week insisting the government remains committed to establishing the Commonwealth Integrity Commission and will release draft legislation “as soon as possible” after the immediate priorities of COVID-19.
“The draft legislation to establish the CIC was ready for release before the global economic and health crisis caused by the coronavirus. [It] is the result of more than 12 months of detailed planning to ensure the new body has both the resources and power that it needs to investigate allegations of criminal corruption across the public sector.”
Presumption of guilt
Understandably, politicians in Canberra fear that corruption commissions operate on the presumption of guilt rather than innocence, and aim to humiliate public figures.
Certainly, NSW’s ICAC is famous for its “show trial” and “kangaroo court” style in legal and political circles.
Grandstanding counsels assisting are often there to make a name for themselves.
Smear, guilt by association and reputational harm to innocent people are real risks.
Labor figures Greg Combet and Doug Cameron testified as witnesses in the ICAC hearings into the corrupt former NSW Labor resources minister Ian Macdonald, and had their images splashed across the front page of TheDaily Telegraph in 2013.
Combet and Cameron were innocent bystanders and were called to give evidence. There was no suggestion they had done anything wrong.
Porter says a national model must avoid the mistakes of state-based integrity commissions, “which have resulted in multiple instances of unjust and irreparable harm to the reputations of innocent people”.
A major point of contention is the appropriate model. Non-government members are concerned the government’s preferred model is too weak and could be a toothless tiger.
It may not apply to all elected politicians and their personal office staff, and instead could focus on a more select group of ministers and public servants.
Some government members would prefer it only interrogate politicians if they happen to fall within the scope of a separate inquiry.
Retrospective matters
The government is reluctant to allow a commission to dig into retrospective matters, eliminating scrutiny of past deeds. One argument is that laws should only be changed prospectively because it is “unfair” to probe past misconduct when public officials did not know the rules of the game.
It seems a dubious point.
The ACT in 2019 set up an integrity commission that has the power to probe matters dating back to the beginning of the territory’s self-government in 1989.
Corruption commissions do not introduce new law, they enforce existing rules, standards and public expectations. They are not courts, and do no find anyone guilty.
They have the power to deliver findings of corruption and may choose to refer matters to public prosecutors, though generally they do not hand over evidence gained by coercive methods not available to the police.
In designing a suitable model, there is also the question of what surveillance powers a watchdog would have.
Phone taps are crucial in securing evidence. They proved embarrassing for Berejiklian by exposing her conversations with ICAC’s target, former Liberal MP Daryl Maguire.
For obvious reasons, there is government apprehension about conducting hearings in public. Conversely, open hearings bringing allegations into the public domain encourage other vital witnesses to step forward and speak up.
Where confidentiality is necessary, state commissioners usually have discretion to hold hearings in private.
The government may want to limit who can make a referral. Vexatious referrals by political enemies pose a real risk, but this may be overcome by an initial private assessment to determine if there is sufficient evidence to pursue a full probe.
The government’s tardiness in acting will have one major benefit. It can learn from the corruption commissions across the states and territories, and pick the best and avoid the worst aspects to design an optimal model.
If the government does eventually get around to legislating a commission, crossbench politicians will likely face a choice between supporting a watchdog they believe is too soft and not getting one at all.