The role of Prime Minister is incredibly demanding, with exhaustion often becoming visible on their faces quite quickly. A Canadian study by Professor O'Coin suggests that the Prime Minister is such a critical part of the system that the core executive, or the center of government, actually reconfigures around each individual leader. This means the core institutions are relatively malleable and can change quickly in response to different personalities. However, this adaptability might also make it difficult for a leader to leave a lasting mark on the system.

Senior public servants, like the Secretary of the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet (DPMC), have a unique vantage point, attending every full Cabinet meeting and most committee meetings, including National Security. This provides a direct view into the engine room of government. These meetings operate under immense pressure.

You've only got two hours max to get through 10 of the most significant policy items in front of the nation every week. And if you can't do that efficiently, then sooner or later people are going to get very angry.

The primary need in the Cabinet process is to keep things moving. Without efficiency, the government's decision-making process would grind to a halt, leading to significant frustration.

Contrary to what many might believe, Australian governance is quite effective by international standards. A recent analysis revealed that governments in Australia are efficient, effective, and non-corrupt, delivering high-quality services. Glyn suggests this points to a national characteristic: Australians have a talent for bureaucracy, even if they cringe at the idea.

However, Terry points out a significant challenge. There is a general lack of public understanding about the division of responsibilities between the Commonwealth and state governments. This confusion undermines accountability for services that could be improved, like hospitals. Terry shared an anecdote to illustrate this point. The manager of a Services New South Wales office said his most common inquiry was for Medicare refunds, a Commonwealth matter. The manager simply kept a drawer full of the federal forms to hand out, showing a nice piece of local cooperation.

This issue of federal and state cooperation is not new. A royal commission led by Dr. Nugget Coombs under the Whitlam government concluded that the Commonwealth and states needed to work more closely to deliver local services. While the states were reportedly open to the idea, the Commonwealth was not, and it became a lost opportunity. Glyn adds a telling detail: in 1988, Nugget Coombs was named Australian of the Century. He notes, "It wasn't an entrepreneur or a scientist, it was... Nugget Coombs with very good reason. A remarkable Australian who did some terrific things."

To understand the inner workings of Australian government, the cabinet diaries of figures like Neil Blewett can be revealing. Blewett, a Rhodes scholar and long-serving minister, documented his time in the first term of the Keating government. His diary is described as a "constant search for the site of real power within government," highlighting how even a senior insider struggled to pinpoint where true influence resided.

A specific diary entry from August 6, 1992, illustrates this perfectly. Blewett describes being in the Prime Minister's office with other senior figures and a host of key personal and public service officials, noting that many of these officials had more influence than the ministers themselves. This experience led him to a profound realization about the nature of power.

My whole experience of ERC, that's the Expenditure Review Committee, confirms my belief that the closer one gets to what one thinks is power, the more it seems to recede. I've always assumed the critical committee of government is the ERC. Now it is obvious that members of the ERC, apart from the Treasurer and the Finance Minister, are second class citizens. None of these second class participants knows the full extent of the outlays and revenue side, nor do they participate in all the numerous side deals made in the margins of the committee.

The locus of power in the Australian government is not a single point but a fluid and expansive system. It's not controlled by one person or a single inner circle. Instead, it's a collection of important activities and committees, like the Expenditure Review Committee and foreign policy groups, that must relate to each other. The Prime Minister is a key player, as is the Treasurer, but they don't have the time or capacity to focus on every issue. Glyn notes that who is involved depends on the specific issue and its importance.

This system, Terry points out, is reflected in the physical space of Old Parliament House. Bob Hawke's office, preserved as it was, is surprisingly small, illustrating the crowded and fluid nature of governance where many people were constantly moving in and out. Much of the government's work is settled by ministers collaborating or by a minister instructing a secretary to simply "go and sort this out."

To manage this complexity, a set of routines and processes provides structure and legitimacy. These include the Cabinet Handbook, budget operating rules, and other procedures. These routines govern everyone, including the Prime Minister. For example, ministers cannot spend money without approval from the Treasurer, the Finance Minister, or the Expenditure Review Committee. The bureaucracy also holds significant power; if a department determines a minister's idea will be a "disaster," that can be enough to stop it. This leads to the famous apocryphal advice given to a minister:

"If you are going to do this damn silly thing, Minister, don't do it in this damn silly way."

Occasionally, a powerful public servant can wield immense influence. Terry recounts a story from Sir Robert Menzies about Sir John Monash after World War I. Monash was in charge of building Victoria's electricity network. When the Cabinet rejected his budget proposal, Monash showed up uninvited to their next meeting. He told them they must not have understood it, re-explained his proposal, and then declared, "I take it we are all agreed," before walking out with his funding secured. This kind of personal power is rare, but it highlights moments when an individual's sheer authority can override standard procedure.

The power of an Australian prime minister is not absolute; the system reconfigures around the style of each new leader. A Canadian study suggests that the core executive adapts to each prime minister, meaning their preferred style tends to dominate the process. However, this also implies that any changes they make are not lasting. When a prime minister leaves, the system simply reconfigures around the next person.

Several constraints limit a prime minister's power. They must consult with their ministers on important issues or risk a rebellion. This collegial approach to decision-making is a key strength of the Australian system and one reason it has not shifted towards a purely 'prime ministerial government' model seen in Canada and the UK. Unlike in those countries, Australian prime ministers are more vulnerable to their colleagues because they are elected by the parliamentary party, not a broader base. The party remains the ultimate check on power and can remove a leader who seems to be failing.

Compared to a US President, the Australian prime minister is far more embedded within the parliamentary and executive system.

I think the Australian Prime Minister is much more enmeshed in the parliamentary and executive system than a US President who is, after all elected to be a sort of elected king in a way that our Prime Minister is not.

The public service also plays a crucial role. For complex, technical decisions, ministers must rely on the expertise of central agencies like Treasury and Finance. For example, during the pandemic, the government knew it needed to provide financial support, but it relied on the bureaucracy to design the technical specifics of a program like JobKeeper. This relationship is not a partnership of equals, but it highlights a necessary dependence on expert advice.

It's not ever in doubt who's in charge. It's the ministers, it's the government. But it is the idea that ministers, particularly for complex technical questions, need expert advice and they look to the public service to get that.

A Prime Minister's power largely flows from their ability to set the agenda for Cabinet. This control allows them to sequence when items are discussed or to defer matters they don't want to address. As Glyn notes, quoting Harold Wilson, this is a significant power.

A decision deferred is a decision made.

Terry adds that a PM's strength also comes from having a sense of the government's overall direction and understanding public sentiment. Access to good quality research on community attitudes gives the head of government an advantage in dealing with colleagues and ensuring proposals won't backfire publicly. Another source of power is determining the membership and terms of reference for cabinet committees.

However, the most important of these, the Expenditure Review Committee (ERC), is often driven by the Treasurer in practice, even if the PM is technically the chair. The ERC deals with hundreds of budget items. In contrast, a typical Cabinet meeting handles fewer than ten mature, well-developed matters. Most committee work is about exploring problems and testing options in the early stages. Cabinet, on the other hand, makes the final, authoritative decision on issues that have already been through a long process. The National Security Committee is an exception, as it can make binding decisions.

A PM starts their day inundated with information, from intelligence updates to media summaries. They rely heavily on staff to provide summaries of summaries. Terry explains that a key priority is knowing about any major breaking news stories before leaving the house to be prepared for questions from journalists. He also highlights a difference between state and federal governments in Australia. In Victoria, for instance, a bipartisan system for regularly researching community attitudes on government services has had a big impact on the quality of decision-making. This kind of robust research is less common at the Commonwealth level.

The Australian Prime Minister's diary looks completely different when Parliament is sitting. On those days, the schedule begins with tactics meetings starting as early as 7:00 AM. The Prime Minister may not always attend these, as they are typically led by the Leader of the House. However, the PM's staff are always present because these meetings are crucial for setting the day's agenda. They decide on tactics, legislative priorities, and try to anticipate how the day will play out in terms of both media coverage and the government's program.

While those meetings happen, the Prime Minister is often in separate briefings with their own office to get across the day's most important issues. A significant part of managing the day involves the Prime Minister's diary. It's a constant challenge, with secretaries engaged in difficult negotiations over who gets access.

The number of people wanting to get in are always vastly over.

The Prime Minister can view their own schedule, which might be a physical printout in a plastic folder on their desk, but they can also check it on their phone. The calendar system used is likely a standard one, such as Microsoft or Google, similar to what the rest of the government uses.

A Prime Minister's day is filled with a constant stream of meetings and interruptions, starting as early as 8 AM. Ministers wait outside for a quick five-minute chat, while media advisors seek just one minute to discuss an issue. The day is also packed with formal meetings with diplomats and other significant figures.

When Parliament is sitting, the schedule becomes even more intense. This is when large delegations from business councils, unions, and other groups arrive, all seeking the government's attention. Amidst this, regular Cabinet and committee meetings still take place, especially during the crucial budget process.

It's common for parliamentary bells to ring in the middle of a committee meeting, forcing all members, including the Prime Minister, to leave and vote on a resolution. Inside the silent Cabinet Room, they can't hear the bells. Instead, everyone watches a clock with red and green lights that signal when a vote is happening.

A key difference between the American and Australian political systems lies in physical proximity. In Canberra, Australian ministers and the public servants they work with are clustered close to Parliament House. This allows for a constant flow of information into the center of government, a feature not present in the American system.

However, Terry Moran points out a fascinating distinction within Australia itself, between the state and Commonwealth levels. At the state level, like in Victoria or Queensland, Parliament is not always sitting. Ministers, including premiers, often work from their departments, spending much more time directly with their public servants. This fosters a more intimate relationship. In contrast, a public servant in Canberra must travel to Parliament Hill for meetings. Terry notes, "There's a lot of sitting around in corridors waiting to get in. It's not the intimate relationship you get at state level."

This dynamic in Canberra contributes to the intense pressure on politicians, especially the Prime Minister. Their schedule is relentless with briefings, Question Time, and constant meetings. The exhaustion can quickly become visible on their faces. Glyn Davis remarks on this, saying, "how someone like John Howard did the job for 13 years without falling over is a singular achievement." Parliament House itself reinforces this pressure, as there is no escape from being the center of attention. This is why The Lodge, the Prime Minister's residence, is so important as a private place to withdraw.

There are also debates about the public service's ability to serve government effectively. A significant problem in the current system is the excessive influence of micro and macroeconomists. Their enthusiasm can "bedazzle heads of government," leading to a system overly weighted toward economic considerations. This focus can come at the expense of a deep understanding of what is happening in the community and how people feel about crucial services like hospitals, schools, and migration. When leaders fail to account for this public sentiment, they often run into trouble.

Even when Parliament is not in session, a Prime Minister's schedule is packed. These days are full of domestic travel for interstate meetings, openings, and other events that are often scheduled long in advance. This creates intense time pressure when unexpected issues arise, as the Prime Minister must divert to the immediate problem while still trying to make up for lost time on their existing commitments. The role is described as demanding and exhausting, requiring unusual levels of physical energy and good grace from everyone involved.

To cope with the demands, Prime Ministers become adept at delegating and identifying what truly matters. One of the key ways they find time to process information is during travel. A flight, for example, offers a rare opportunity for reflection.

So you're on a plane for two hours to Adelaide or Brisbane is two hours. You can actually talk to people in the plane, think, work through issues. It actually matters because otherwise, there's very little reflection time.

The Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet (PM&C) serves as the government's central agency. Its role involves both administrative and advisory functions. Administratively, it manages the Cabinet process, which includes organizing agendas, recording decisions, and transmitting them to various agencies. It even handles logistics like ensuring there is tea and coffee.

More critically, PM&C provides detailed, expert advice to the Prime Minister on every single matter that comes before Cabinet. To do this, it maintains what are known as "shadow functions," which monitor all areas of government. This allows PM&C to offer independent advice. A minister preparing a submission for Cabinet knows that the Prime Minister will receive a separate, thorough, and potentially critical briefing from PM&C. This advice is provided "without fear or favour."

The department's principal function is centered on policy. It helps establish collaborative policymaking across government and advises the Prime Minister throughout the process. This process ensures that by the time a submission reaches Cabinet, all the necessary information has been thoroughly tested and presented accurately. At that point, the decision before Cabinet is a matter of judgment, not a debate over the facts.

Joseph asked if Glyn and Terry ever sat in on full Cabinet meetings during their time as Secretaries of the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet. Both confirmed they attended every week at the Commonwealth level. Terry mentioned this was also the case at the State level. Glyn added a small distinction for Queensland, which had a separate Cabinet Secretary, but noted that in Victoria, the Secretary of the Premier's department was still present in the Cabinet Room. This confirmation establishes their firsthand experience with the Cabinet process.

When the doors close on a federal cabinet meeting, the room contains a very specific group of people. Besides the Cabinet ministers, there are three notetakers, some cabinet room attendants who pass items between staffers and ministers, and the Secretary of the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet (DPMC). Assistant Ministers are not present for the entire meeting; they are called in only for their specific submission and must leave afterward. The officials who are present are required to be silent and are not called into the debate.

The role of the Cabinet Secretary is particularly noteworthy, often seen as a mysterious and potentially powerful figure. The nature of this position can change significantly depending on the government in power. Currently, at the federal level, the Cabinet Secretary is a parliamentarian, Andrew Charlton. However, in the past, this role has sometimes been filled by a political staffer. The practice varies, with Victoria, for example, traditionally appointing a parliamentarian to the position.

The Cabinet Secretary is not powerful in the sense that they decide the agenda; the Prime Minister, as chair of the cabinet committee, settles the agenda. However, it is a very significant role. The Cabinet Secretary plays a key part in advising the Prime Minister on what is urgent, what can wait, and what needs to be settled.

Cabinet decisions are formally recorded in what are known as the minutes. There can sometimes be a need to clarify what was actually decided, which puts a focus on the role of the note-takers. These are not simply scribes, as a level of interpretation and policy context is required.

Terry Moran explains that the note-takers are, in fact, policy experts. For any given agenda item, the note-taker is the person who leads the corresponding expert group, or "shadow function," within the Prime Minister and Cabinet department.

Whoever leads that particular shadow function comes into the Cabinet room as the note taker for the item. And so they know the policy as well as anyone in the room.

Because of this expertise and the highly structured process, disagreements about what was decided are incredibly rare. Recommendations are thoroughly worked through before the meeting, so everyone knows what is on the table. Ambiguity might arise if there are last-minute amendments, but this is typically resolved by the Cabinet secretary and the Prime Minister. It is slightly more common in the Expenditure Review Committee (ERC) due to the sheer volume of decisions, but even then, it is a rarity.

Australian Cabinet meetings are held most weeks of the year, while the House of Representatives only sits for about 20 weeks. During the weeks Parliament is not in session, Cabinet ministers are still required to fly to Canberra for their meeting. Attendance must be physical, as there is no option for video conferencing. This presents a significant travel burden, especially for ministers from distant states like Western Australia. It is common to see Cabinet ministers at airports around the country on a Sunday night, waiting for their flights to Canberra.

Cabinet meetings often begin with a private session for ministers only, before any officials are present. This initial part of the meeting is reserved for discussing politically sensitive matters, like certain national security issues. During this time, no notes are taken and no official decisions are recorded. It serves as an opportunity for the Prime Minister to brief the cabinet on the issues of the day or for ministers to raise political concerns.

After this informal political discussion, officials are called into the room, and the meeting shifts to the formal agenda. Terry Moran notes that a similar practice existed in the Victorian government, where ministers could discuss political aspects of a submission before the premier's department secretary joined the meeting. This structure provides a valuable and necessary space for political discourse separate from the official proceedings.

This practice of starting with a political discussion became standard in the Federal Cabinet under Prime Minister Howard. While such conversations have always happened, structuring them at the start of the meeting is a more recent development. The underlying logic remains that cabinet ministers need a private forum for political conversations, which is a standard feature of government.

The template for Australian federal government cabinet submissions provides valuable lessons in structure and discipline. These submissions do not have a strict maximum length but are organized into multiple parts. It begins with a two-page summary covering the core points and recommendations. This is followed by a more detailed explanation section.

A critical component is the section for 'coordination comments,' where each government agency provides its view on the proposal. This allows a minister to understand not just the proposal itself, but what the rest of the government thinks about it, encouraging frank and fearless advice. Attachments at the back contain implementation plans and evaluation strategies. While the resulting documents are thick, their structure allows a minister to easily access the level of detail they require. The papers cannot be exhaustively detailed, as this would lead to them not being read and mistakes being made.

This structured approach provides a significant discipline. Terry Moran shared an experience from when he became a university chancellor and was surprised by the poor quality of papers for the University Council. He implemented a template based on the government model, which 'transformed everything overnight.' The template acts as a routine, ensuring all necessary questions are answered before a submission can even be considered. For instance, the Cabinet Secretariat will not accept an incomplete paper, preventing someone from trying to rush a proposal through without detailing its costs. This process enforces a significant discipline on decision-making.

A coordination process, with the Prime Minister's and Cabinet department (PMC) at its center, vets Cabinet submissions. When an agency puts forward a draft, the PMC consults with them. If a policy is poorly drafted, the PMC is responsible for flagging it as not up to standard. Terry explains that this can create tension, as nobody likes their work being criticized. He recalls his time as Secretary of the Premier's Department in Victoria, where he would simply reject a deficient submission rather than let it fail in the Cabinet room.

I'd just simply say, go away and try again. Because I knew that it'll blow up in the Cabinet Room.

However, this pre-vetting process doesn't mean submissions are perfect by the time they reach Cabinet. They are still human documents and can contain errors or omit key points. Sometimes, people will frame a submission in an overly positive way to push through something they know will face resistance.

They're not perfect gems of documents. They're still human, they still have errors and they still sometimes elide key points that need to be made.

While the system has these human foibles, it is designed to minimize them. The goal is to standardize the process and apply the same level of scrutiny to every submission. The quality of a submission is ultimately decided by what happens before it enters the Cabinet room.

When cabinet submissions are rejected, it is seldom for a lack of detail. Glyn explains the more common shortcomings are a lack of suitable analysis of the problem and a tendency to jump straight to a preferred solution without arguing for it or considering alternatives. Submissions also frequently fail to outline the implementation challenges or provide an evaluation strategy to determine if the policy was successful. This requires a tough discipline of setting out the thresholds for success from the very beginning.

For a minister who wants to come to a cabinet meeting fully informed, the reading commitment is significant. Even without reading all the attachments, a diligent minister would need a couple of hours of solid reading. To read everything thoroughly would require setting aside a full day. Terry notes that well-crafted submissions are brief at the start, covering all relevant points, which allows a minister to decide where to focus their attention. For example, a Treasurer might dig deeper into a proposal that involves significant spending.

Senior officials also face a heavy workload. The Secretary of PMC would spend several hours every week reviewing submissions, not just for the upcoming meeting but also items in the pipeline. Terry mentions that in his roles as Secretary, he would ensure at least one Deputy Secretary was on top of all the policy issues, acting as a sieve. Glyn shares an anecdote illustrating the pressure involved.

So when I worked in Queensland, Premier Goss would make us sit in front of him for an hour before the Cabinet meeting and he would practice by interrogating us on the Cabinet agenda. He would always find the paragraph you hadn't read and ask you the probing question and you just dreaded it. So we'd spend much of the weekend reading the Cabinet book so that we'd hope to get through this meeting on Monday morning. We enjoyed it when he travelled.

The time required to draft a Cabinet submission for the Department of Defence can vary significantly. Submissions concerning major acquisitions, such as frigates or aircraft, often involve hundreds of millions or even billions of dollars. These take a long time to prepare due to the massive scale of the decision and the extreme thoroughness required for procurements that span 20 years. These proposals are the largest and most detailed, and they are workshopped through a series of committees long before reaching the National Security Committee.

However, many other Defence submissions are similar in scope to those from other government agencies. For these, the process from deciding a Cabinet discussion is needed to actually presenting it typically takes a number of months. The submission document itself follows a standard, prescriptive template. This template has a set of headings that must be addressed, guiding the drafter through the entire policy cycle.

What's the problem? What are the alternative approaches we've considered? Why have we chosen this particular instrument? Who have we consulted? What was the advice back from the coordination comments? And then why these recommendations?

Cabinet meetings are generally not heated affairs. According to Terry Moran, discussions are collegial and center on the comprehensive written submissions provided by ministers. It is expected that ministers have read these documents, and those with something to add are heard, which can spark a conversation. The assumption is that the minister bringing a submission forward has included all necessary information on paper, allowing for a reasonable discussion before a decision is made.

Glyn Davis agrees, noting that any factional tensions do not surface in the Cabinet room, as it would be considered inappropriate. The Cabinet is the key forum where the government will collectively sink or swim on various issues. Ministers understand this shared responsibility. They know that submissions can have deficiencies that are best identified and resolved internally. Because Cabinet deals with sensitive issues that the entire government must get right, the atmosphere is cooperative.

The meetings can even have moments of humor and camaraderie. Glyn recalls a time when the Cabinet sang 'Happy Birthday' to a minister who had just turned 50. When someone remarked it was a rough way to spend a 50th birthday, the minister replied:

It could be worse, it could be shadow Cabinet.

Reading Australian cabinet diaries, like those of Neil Blewett, reveals a mix of political strategizing and executive decision-making. For instance, Blewett's diary mentions general, sweeping state-of-the-nation addresses given to the Cabinet.

Another striking feature is the informality of Australian cabinets, especially when contrasted with the formality of British cabinets, like the Harold Wilson government. Anecdotes highlight this uniquely Australian style. A biography of Gough Whitlam describes him swearing at ministers and throwing papers across the cabinet room. Another story recounts Paul Keating opening a Cabinet meeting with a particular piece of advice.

Not to listen to the ABC in the morning because you can't have fuckers filling your mind up with shit at 8am.

The Prime Minister's skill as a chairperson is an unusually important, though often overlooked, factor in the quality of government decision-making. Past Prime Ministers have had vastly different styles. Menzies was known for synthesizing debate and summarizing outcomes pleasingly. Fraser was domineering but used it to test ideas. Hawke was a consensus builder but could let debates drag on. Howard was punctual and businesslike, while accounts of Rudd's cabinet meetings suggest they were inefficient.

Terry explains the hallmarks of a good chair. It is crucial to let people speak and not dominate by stating a desired outcome early on. Doing so kills the debate before it can even begin. Instead, a good chair listens to the evidence with their colleagues and then provides a clear summary and path forward that makes sense to the room. This ability is a core skill for a Prime Minister; one who cannot manage Cabinet risks losing the confidence of the ministry.

If you start the meeting by saying, I'm looking for us to do this and this, you've killed the debate before it started and people will resent you for it.

Efficiency is also paramount. With only about two hours each week to get through major national policy items, a backlog can quickly form if the meeting is not run well. This can cause the whole of government to slow down. Terry notes that toward the end of the Hawke years, the government's inability to make a decision on a mining lease signaled to the cabinet that the Prime Minister was losing his grip. Ultimately, the goal is to reach a clear, unambiguous decision so that the matter is resolved and everyone can move on.

You've only got two hours max to get through 10 of the most significant policy items in front of the nation every week. And if you can't do that efficiently, then sooner or later people are going to get very angry that their issues are not getting dealt with.

Most big government decisions are worked out before the formal Cabinet meeting. It would be a mistake to view this as the Cabinet not working; it is a feature of the process. Negotiations and discussions happen beforehand, so by the time a matter reaches the full Cabinet, it is usually an agreed-upon set of recommendations.

Those sorts of more tense, emotional, angry discussions are not going to happen in the Cabinet Room. They're going to happen a long way back.

These more heated arguments occur in committee meetings, particularly those dealing with social policy, government spending, or iconic development proposals. These topics often involve people with genuinely different views who represent constituencies with conflicting interests. Terry Moran notes that the Australian system provides a well-understood process for stepping through these arguments to reach a binding decision. Politicians on both sides generally understand how it works, and resources like Cabinet handbooks leave no excuse for being unprepared.

If a debate is not going the Prime Minister's way, they have a way to regain control. Glyn Davis explains that the PM can defer the decision, claiming more information is needed. This allows the issue to be set aside for further discussion outside the Cabinet with a select group of ministers. While this does not happen often, it is a tool the Prime Minister can use when they are not happy with the direction of the conversation.

When governments make big mistakes, a common cause is a lack of sufficient political scrutiny before acting. Terry Moran notes that governments sometimes proceed on an issue without fully understanding the political dangers. Glyn Davis agrees, adding that policy choices and political choices often don't align. A Cabinet might make a good policy decision without considering the politics, or vice versa. This is particularly common when decisions are rushed in response to a public crisis.

Governments rarely admit these mistakes. Instead, they often quietly drop the ineffective policy at the next election and move on. The root problems are often a lack of preparation, rushing into a choice, and not carefully considering the electoral and other consequences.

Terry Moran points out another factor: time. A policy that makes sense for a long period can eventually become less effective and create new problems. He offers the example of raising tobacco taxes to discourage smoking. While this was a very successful public health initiative for a long time, it had an unforeseen outcome.

What I think few people anticipate is we might hit a point where the incentives to bring in tobacco illegally create black markets... That wasn't an intended consequence and I don't think it was a discussed consequence because the assumption was that the use of tobacco would just tail off until there would be no point in a black market.

This long-term success created a new, awkward policy problem. The old tools, like raising taxes, no longer work as intended. Now, a difficult discussion is needed because neither giving in to the black market nor outright prohibition are appealing solutions.

While it seems logical that physical exhaustion would impair the judgment of leaders like prime ministers, its effects are often mitigated by established systems. Exhaustion is more likely to result in poor personal behavior, such as irritability or unpleasant workplace moments, rather than fundamentally degrading major policy outcomes. This is because governmental decision-making relies on structured routines with specific channels, processes, and timelines.

One might imagine a scenario where an exhausted cabinet agrees to a decision simply because they are tired and want the discussion to end. However, the process itself guards against this. While the final decision-makers might be fatigued at a given moment, the many other people involved in the process leading up to that decision are not. These individuals provide consistent advice, creating a buffer that prevents exhaustion from being the primary driver of a major decision.

A question was raised about former Prime Minister Kevin Rudd's decision to shelve the Carbon Pollution Reduction Scheme (CPRS). The decision was made in the Strategic Priorities and Budget Committee immediately after a marathon two-day set of meetings with state premiers on health reform. This context prompted the question of whether personal physical exhaustion played a role in a decision he now reportedly regrets. Terry Moran, however, downplayed the idea of exhaustion being a key factor. He noted that Rudd had a great deal of stamina on almost any occasion. Instead, Terry characterized Rudd as a politician who possessed very good judgment on both good days and bad, suggesting the decision was likely a calculated one rather than a result of fatigue.

The optimal decision-making format for government changes significantly during a crisis. In normal times, processes are more distributed. But during major events like the global financial crisis or the COVID-19 pandemic, a more centralized approach is often required.

During the financial crisis, Terry Moran recalled that Prime Minister Kevin Rudd initiated daily meetings with key personnel from PM&C and Treasury. The goal was to ensure the most capable advisors were at the table. Terry's role was to coordinate these meetings. This highlights a principle of 'selective centralisation'—not involving everyone, but only those with the specific expertise and substantial contributions needed to address the crisis.

So you don't have everybody in the room, you just have people who are capable and have something substantial to contribute.

Similarly, the COVID-19 pandemic saw a major structural shift in governance. Glyn Davis notes that the National Cabinet became the central institution for national decisions, replacing the former Council of Australian Governments (COAG). This change happened in a relatively short time, demonstrating that democratic institutions can be surprisingly adaptable.

It was a remarkable shift and it happened in a relatively short space of time and it was actually encouraging that a democracy in a crisis can be so nimble.

These national institutions are not formally in the Constitution but are based on custom and practice, which allows them to evolve when faced with new challenges.

If one thing could be changed to improve the quality of federal decision-making, it would be to create more time. Key processes, particularly cabinet and committee meetings, always feel rushed. Ministers and prime ministers have a vast portfolio of responsibilities, and policy work is just one small part. This leads to a non-trivial exhaustion factor.

This "poverty of time" is a universal problem. Officials would like more time with their principals to work through cabinet decisions and better understand their preferences. Often, officials must brief ministers on an issue the minister has never dealt with before and has had no time to consider. The scheduled briefing time is rarely sufficient, which creates a significant challenge for effective decision-making.

Most items pass through Cabinet quickly and efficiently. This is because by the time a paper reaches Cabinet, it has been thoroughly road-tested and consulted on with all relevant people in government. Cabinet then invests its time on the handful of issues that are genuinely difficult and contentious, where the right call is not obvious. These are often complex, recurring problems like environmental controversies or decisions about energy transmission that cannot be resolved in a single session.

These fundamental choices require balancing competing interests, such as development versus the environment or political outcomes versus policy outcomes. Glyn and Terry note that this process often takes multiple passes and iterations. Many tricky issues are resolved internally at the bureaucratic level, sometimes over months, before they ever get to ministers.

A lot of the tricky issues have to be resolved internally at the bureaucratic level before they get to Cabinet. And I can think of some very specific examples where there was just months of work... before you wanted to get anywhere near Cabinet because you didn't want to put in front of Cabinet something that hadn't been worked through.

When a government decides on a major new priority, like solving the housing crisis, the first step is not to create new bureaucracy, but to find good advice and establish a strategy. Once the strategy is set, the machinery of government responds. This can involve assigning a minister, creating a new division within a department like Treasury, bringing in new skills, putting the issue on the national Cabinet agenda, and allocating significant funding. However, a central challenge of governing is that you can never focus on just one thing. The structures are set up to ensure the new priority moves forward while the government simultaneously addresses the hundred other issues demanding attention.

Governments cannot focus solely on a few major priorities. Announcing a small number of key priorities may work for a press release, but the reality of governing involves a multiplicity of services, programs, and groups that demand attention. Extreme focus is very difficult to achieve, even at a state level.

Terry suggests that to solve today's housing crisis, one should look at the old papers on what Prime Minister Robert Menzies did after the Second World War. Menzies successfully got houses built and land developed, not by relying on private companies, but through government arrangements and cooperation with the states. This historical approach worked. Today, the approach is to rely largely on the private sector, which does not seem to be solving the problem.

Glyn adds that artificial intelligence now provides a new tool to analyze this history. We can instantly access and interrogate policy briefs from the Menzies period and consolidate policy advice over decades. This allows for a more informed discussion about what has worked in the past and what might work in the future.

The issue of housing highlights the complexity of government challenges. As Glyn points out, housing is not just about construction. It intersects with policies on skilled labor, financing, and taxation. The challenge for any government is coordinating all these different inputs to achieve an outcome. Menzies managed this by securing cooperation from state governments on both sides of politics.

There is a common assumption that the private sector can do almost anything well, quickly, and cheaply, but this isn't true. This belief, particularly influential in Canberra and Treasury, suggests that contracting work to a private firm is the best way to get something done. However, this overlooks disastrous outcomes from privatization, such as Robo-debt and employment services. This perspective is naive, especially when dealing with an emergency like the current housing crisis, where private firms might succeed but will also extract a large profit.

When tackling a complex issue, the formation of a government committee is not always a sign of taking it seriously. Committees serve a specific purpose. They are most valuable at the beginning of a process when the variables are unknown and a group needs to work together to define the problem. If the variables are already understood, it is more efficient for leaders to speak directly with the relevant ministers, such as the Immigration Minister for workforce needs or the Education Minister for training. An ad hoc committee might be useful early on to clarify what is in play.

A significant issue within the public service is the migration of "treasury zealots" from departments like Treasury or Finance into other policy areas. This has created a strong hold over how policy is developed, often to its detriment. The focus has shifted away from cultivating public servants who have the practical ability to implement projects and make things happen, such as in housing or land development. This contrasts with past eras, like under Sir Robert Menzies, when there was extensive land development for housing and a great number of social housing units were built. The current Treasury ideology, which insists the only way to get anything done is to contract it out, is not true. This belief system is actively standing in the way of getting important things done in Australia.

Glyn reflects on the irony that it is now difficult to hire economists into the public service, a stark contrast to a time when people complained that economists were running the entire Australian Public Service (APS). Terry clarifies that his criticism was never of economists themselves, but of the economic thinking behind contracting out services, particularly the principal-agent theory. Glyn agrees there is now a significant pushback against contracting, as it has not always achieved its goals.

This shift creates a new problem. When government brings services back in-house, it faces criticism for growing the APS. Glyn notes that even converting labor-hire employees into permanent staff, a move he supported, attracts complaints that the public service is growing out of control, despite the costs remaining the same. This leads to a difficult conversation about the appropriate scale of the public service.

The core challenge is a political and public dilemma. Glyn explains, "You can't be against contracting if you also are going to be against having more public servants if you aren't willing to live with a reduction in what the public service can do." He points out that while citizens and governments are ambitious for services, there is little appetite to pay the required taxes. Alternatives are being explored, such as relational contracting. Glyn also highlights a key point in the debate about the size of the public service: its growth has stayed static relative to the population, even though the absolute number of employees has increased.

But you're always having to defend absolute numbers as opposed to relative numbers. And relative numbers haven't shifted. Absolute numbers have.

When considering a hypothetical scenario, such as China attacking Taiwan and America intervening, the question arises of how Australia would decide to offer support. Glyn suggests that while the National Security Committee (NSC) would likely discuss such a critical matter, he would expect it to be referred to the full Cabinet for a final decision. The NSC is, after all, a committee of the Cabinet.

Terry agrees, noting that a Prime Minister would likely find it unavoidable to take an issue of this magnitude to the full Cabinet. The decision would be potentially too controversial not to. The discussion then turns to the logistics of making such a rapid decision, for example, if a call came in at 3 am requiring a response within hours. While reluctant to discuss specific secure communication methods, Terry confirms that the necessary infrastructure exists to connect ministers across the country, so physical distance isn't an insurmountable obstacle to making a collective decision.

It is clarified that the NSC is one of two Cabinet committees, along with the Parliamentary Business Committee, that can make decisions without the endorsement of the full Cabinet. In a time-sensitive crisis, the NSC could technically make the call. However, the Prime Minister would have to authorize this, and the rest of the Cabinet would need to be immediately informed of the decision.

A hypothetical scenario is posed: what would happen if the bottom 10% of performers across the Australian Public Service (APS) were laid off? Glyn notes that the impact would be immediately and directly felt by the public. The largest workforces are in service delivery areas like the NDIS and health, as well as in defense. A 10% cut across the board would mean a direct reduction in these essential services.

Terry suggests an alternative for some social welfare programs, like employment services. Instead of using private companies, which have been heavily criticized, the Commonwealth could fund state and local governments to deliver these services. He argues they are much closer to the communities they serve. This would require preparation and a different delivery system, not just firing people with the hope of increasing efficiency.

Glyn adds that no rational government would make such a cut if properly advised on the local consequences. The conversation then turns to the practical impossibility of such a policy. A key challenge is how to even identify the bottom 10% of performers. There is no system for ranking every employee.

Unless you had a very reliable system for knowing who your performance were and being able to rank them from 1 to 100, basically, it's crying out for things going wrong as an approach. Right wing savants have these dreams, but they don't work them out in practice.

The idea is described as a simplistic dream that is unworkable in reality.

A thought experiment asks whether Australia's state capacity would improve if it switched to a US-style congressional model, where ministers are experts chosen from outside Parliament. Glyn Davis argues this would be a net negative. He contends you cannot change such a fundamental part of the system while holding everything else constant. In Australia's system, ministers are drawn from and are accountable to Parliament, which is the body that approves legislation and budgets.

Parliament serves as an essential training ground for the skills needed to be an effective minister. It provides a way of sorting out who has the capacity for the job. Glyn points to the example of Kim Beazley, who held a wide range of portfolios over 13 years, including Aviation, Defence, and Finance. This extensive experience made him a formidable minister later in his career.

He became a very effective minister over time precisely because he saw so much of government and understood how it worked. By the time he hit the Defence Ministry later in his career, he was a formidable Defence Minister because he brought a decade's worth of ministerial experience. He knew how cabinet worked, he knew how to get decisions made.

This path of development is crucial. As one premier noted, to become a good minister, you first have to be inexperienced. Junior portfolios allow individuals to learn and acquire the necessary skills over time.

Terry Moran builds on this, referencing Max Weber's idea of politics as a vocation. Like any vocation, it requires time and dedication to learn a distinctive set of skills. These are different from the skills of a senior official or a business leader. Political skills involve communicating with the public and sensing the public mood, neither of which is intuitive. This is why experiments with parachuting people into politics from other fields often do not go well.

I spent my time talking to lots of senior people in the private sector. I wouldn't want any of them running a government department because they're not attuned to the community's feeling about things and the community's expectations of what a given department might do.

It is possible for very skilled people to come from other fields and take on leadership roles laterally within the public sector. They can do very well in these positions because the principles of running organizations have many common elements, regardless of the sector. However, while it can be done, finding good candidates who successfully make this transition is fairly rare.

The question arises whether government would improve if ministers had relevant expertise in their portfolios, rather than being “informed amateurs.” However, the term “amateurs” can be patronizing. Being a minister is a profession in itself, distinct from the subject matter of a department. The crucial skills are not content-based but relate to judgment, political understanding, and the ability to persuade.

Being a minister is a profession in itself. It's not about the content, it's about judgment and political understanding and skills and ability to persuade, and it's a set of skills. Content is great, but it's not the be all and end all.

A minister's judgment is a key strength of the system. They must be open to advice from senior public servants but also capable of questioning it. Part of their role is to review proposals and determine their viability. It is not uncommon for a minister to push back on a draft submission from their department if they are not persuaded by its logic or believe it will not be accepted by colleagues or the public. This demonstrates the exercise of political judgment, not a lack of content knowledge.

No, the colleagues won't buy it. Colleagues won't buy it and no citizen will buy it. That's not a plausible logic that you're giving me here. Go back and do some more work.

While most ministers are not required to be experts in their field, the Attorney General is a notable exception, typically being a lawyer. This is sensible given their role in selecting judges and providing legal advice to other ministers. Generally, however, the political class is a surprisingly young profession. Many individuals become ministers after only a decade in Parliament, which allows little time to develop deep professional expertise elsewhere. Consequently, the system relies on selecting people for their judgment rather than their specific content knowledge.

The conversation turned to the Australian federal government's decision during the pandemic to focus heavily on the AstraZeneca vaccine. Glyn Davis explained he had no specific insight, as the decision was made by a previous government. However, Terry Moran suggested it was likely a pragmatic choice made during a fierce global competition for vaccines. He believed the government opted for a supplier that could guarantee a very large number of doses, which may not have been possible if they had tried to source from multiple different providers.

Joseph Noel Walker added another potential reason he had heard: that the government might have been trying to combine public health with industry policy. Terry confirmed this idea had indeed been part of the discussion at the time.

The National Cabinet proved more effective than its predecessor, COAG, because it was formed during a crisis. Nothing concentrates the mind and forces people to work together like a major crisis. The COVID-19 pandemic transcended ideology and party affiliation, creating a powerful reason for leaders to collaborate.

The real test is whether the National Cabinet can maintain its effectiveness after the immediate crisis has passed. There is a risk that life will return to a more familiar pattern, and the body will become less effective over time. Initially, the changes might seem minimal, just a new name and more frequent meetings with the same people around the table.

However, the frequency of interaction is crucial. The constant meetings meant leaders got used to working together, developing a sense of camaraderie. This regular contact creates a dynamic similar to an iterated game, rather than a one-off Prisoner's Dilemma. When you have to interact with the same people repeatedly, it forces a more cooperative approach.

The origins of Australia's talent for bureaucracy are multifaceted. While early commentators like Hancock lamented a rule-bound public service based on seniority, this wasn't the full picture. There were always remarkable public service leaders, particularly during World War II and the post-war reconstruction period.

Glyn identifies several contributing factors. Australia has always had a large state, stemming from its establishment by the British. It has also been a democracy longer than most countries, granting it more time to develop its systems. Because of early universal suffrage in the late 1800s and early 1900s, Australian governments have had to engage with the entire population for over 125 years, a milestone the United States reached later. The country's isolation and activist state also played a significant role.

Terry adds a key historical point about the influence of the British Northcote-Trevelyan Report in the late 19th century. This report advocated for merit-based recruitment and advancement. Its principles were adopted by the Victorian colonial public service. After federation, many Victorian public servants moved to the new Commonwealth public service, carrying these merit-based ideals with them. This diffusion is described as a beneficial historical accident.

Finally, Australia's lack of an aristocracy helped. Unlike Britain, which had to overcome deeply embedded traditions, Australia could implement a merit-based system more easily. This combination of historical circumstances and good fortune has served the country well.

Historically, the Australian public service was shaped by contrasting traditions in Victoria and New South Wales. Terry Moran describes New South Wales as the former "home of the Rum Corps." In contrast, Victoria developed a public service based on the British model before Federation, emphasizing merit-based recruitment. This Victorian system was later exported to the Commonwealth government.

However, a persistent flaw in the broader Australian system was its reliance on seniority for promotions, rather than merit. Terry notes that when he first joined the Victorian system, it had a strong merit-based approach for both recruitment and advancement. He recounts how Prime Minister Sir Robert Menzies, despairing of the Commonwealth Public Service, brought Fred Wheeler back from Switzerland to reform it. Wheeler implemented a series of merit-based enhancements.

The Commonwealth reforms in Canberra had gone so well that he sent somebody down to aid Lindsay Thompson who was then the Premier to look at why the Victorian public service was so hopeless.

Joseph notes Victoria's outsized impact on Australia's view of government. Glyn Davis offers a counterpoint from historian David Kemp, who argued that Victoria's tariff-closed economy led to a self-inflicted depression in the 1890s. This contrasted with New South Wales' more liberal trading rules and is when Sydney overtook Melbourne as the country's largest city. The Victorian public service was not sympathetic to open economic policies, as it would have reduced their influence.

Terry adds a final anecdote about the Victorian Treasury. He was once told by Ron Cullen, a former chair of the Public Service Board, that the Treasury's biggest problem was its lack of economists. After economists were recruited into senior roles, the department's performance improved significantly.

Australia has maintained a distinctively cabinet form of government, unlike other Westminster systems such as the UK and Canada. This might be connected to Australian egalitarianism and a cultural dislike for leaders who appear to have too much authority. However, it's also possible that the shift towards a more prime ministerial government in places like the UK is overstated. The discussion around prime ministerial government has been happening for decades, but it's difficult to identify a definitive trend. Governments often reform around the personality of the Prime Minister at the time. Ultimately, there is a natural check on power in these systems.

Any system where the Prime Minister can be assassinated by the colleagues is one with the self limiting control over a Prime Minister.

Before every Australian election, the public service prepares two detailed policy briefs: a 'red book' for the Labor party and a 'blue book' for the Coalition. Terry Moran notes that he may have started this tradition of preparing for both sides, as previously the public service might have only prepared a book for the incumbent government. These books are created by dedicated teams within the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet (PM&C).

The books are a thorough analysis of every policy announcement made by each party during the campaign. They detail the commitments, proposed programs, and provide an analysis of timelines and costs. The goal is to provide a comprehensive plan for an incoming Prime Minister, ensuring they can begin implementing their agenda immediately.

After the election, the winning party receives their book. The book for the losing side is symbolically discarded, but the documents still exist. Joseph suggests a historian could use these discarded books to write a fascinating counterfactual history of Australia.

A key part of this process involves the head of PM&C meeting with the Leader of the Opposition before the election. Glyn Davis describes this as a respectful discussion about the transition process if they were to win.

They don't show them the book. You just let them know what work is happening and what they can receive should they be elected. It goes down to practical examples, like this is when we would meet on the day after and this is what we would bring. So you're briefing them on what the process is going to be.

The new government receives the book as early as possible so their team can verify that the public service has accurately captured their policy platform.

In the Australian system, the public service has an important tradition of preparing for a potential change in government. Before an election, departments work with the opposition to understand their platform. This process ensures the bureaucracy is attuned to what an alternative government would want to do and can begin thinking about implementation. It is a well-understood process in which both sides of politics are invested.

Terry Moran explains that on top of preparing for a party's specific promises, he would have his department prepare an analysis of current, pressing policy issues. This provided an impartial view of what was urgent or potentially dangerous. An incoming government rightfully expects, and receives, detailed advice on day one about their program. All departments do this for their own portfolio, but Treasury and the Prime Minister and Cabinet (PM&C) provide a broader overview.

Terry also innovated on the presentation of these briefings. He hired professional editors to translate the documents into plain English and designers to format them like a magazine, complete with photos and graphs. This was a deliberate move away from dense, standardized government formats.

It has to be accessible. It has to be written for people who haven't been in government recently... The model is a magazine that you would like to read.

This approach was well-received by ministers like Julia Gillard, and the tradition of making these crucial documents accessible and engaging has continued.

Glyn Davis reflects on what great books about government and Australia still need to be written. His first idea is a comparative study of Prime Ministers after they've left office. While leaders often write their own autobiographies, a series of standardized interviews would offer a different perspective. These interviews could explore how each Prime Minister understood their role, their objectives, and the realities of the job.

To encourage complete honesty, Glyn suggests a formal process. Perhaps six months after their term ends, each former Prime Minister would sit for an in-depth interview with an institution like the National Library. The transcripts could then be sealed for 20 years. This delay would allow them to be frank about their experiences without immediate political repercussions.

However, the book Glyn would truly love to read is one that's impossible to write. It would tell the story of the first Australians arriving on the continent. He finds it fascinating to imagine how they dispersed, what they discovered, and what the land looked like through the first human eyes to ever see it.