Jozef Imrich, name worthy of Kafka, has his finger on the pulse of any irony of interest and shares his findings to keep you in-the-know with the savviest trend setters and infomaniacs.
''I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center.''
-Kurt Vonnegut
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
As the Swedish Academy chooses the winner of the book world’s most prestigious award, Simon Kuper looks back at an august ideal often marred by politics and bias
Alfred Nobel was a keen but mediocre writer. The Swedish dynamite tycoon wrote unpublished poems and a play featuring a 40-minute torture scene. To the dismay of relatives keen to inherit his fortune, his handwritten will of 1895 endowed five awards, including a prize for literature. Nobel instructed “the Academy in Stockholm” to give it to the writer of “the most outstanding work in an ideal [idealisk] direction”. The Swedish Academy spent decades puzzling over what “ideal” meant, before quietly dropping the criterion.
Next Thursday, a door will open in a gilded hall in Stockholm and the Academy’s formally dressed permanent secretary will step forward to announce, in Swedish and English, the winner of this year’s literature Nobel. A year ago it was Hungarian modernist László Krasznahorkai, for his “compelling and visionary oeuvre that in the midst of apocalyptic terror reaffirms the power of art”.
Now prediction markets favour Indian writer Amitav Ghosh, the Chinese avant-garde author Can Xue or the American novelist Thomas Pynchon to win the SKr12mn (£910,000) in prize money — though nobody really knows, as today’s Academy is less leaky than it was before a #MeToo scandal prompted a sweeping overhaul. And the pundits usually guess wrong.
The prize is ritually mocked. The Nigerian poet Chinweizu Ibekwe once marvelled at “the conceit that a gaggle of Swedes . . . should pronounce on intellectual excellence for the whole wide world”. British writer Tim Parks asks, unanswerably, how “Swedish professors” can compare an Indonesian poet with a Cameroonian novelist, both perhaps read in translation.
And yet, says Daniel Medin, professor of comparative literature at the American University of Paris: “The Nobel is the big one for international fiction. There is no comparison.” He itemises its three distinctive features: “It’s a prize for a body of work, by an international writer, that has more than a century of tradition behind it.” The Nobel shapes the global canon — even if the globe can push back. The award’s history also charts the evolution of literary taste.
Because greatness in literature is more subjective than in the sciences, the Academy’s choice reliably angers critics, who draw up lists of overlooked greats
There has always been a comic discrepancy between the weight of the prize and the parochialism of the judges. The Academy’s 18 life members — known as “The Eighteen” — are Swedish writers, literary historians, linguists and a jurist, some of them obscure even in Sweden. There were barely any female members until this century.
Michael Sohlman, a former longtime executive director of the Nobel Foundation, whose grandfather was instrumental in ensuring the prizes were created, notes the perennial risk of “Nobelitis” that leads some in the prize’s orbit who confuse its importance with their own.
Yet Sohlman argues that Stockholm is a good place from which to judge world literature. The city is small but outward-looking. Its upper classes traditionally read English, French and German, and don’t kid themselves that their national literature is world-beating. Even so, the Academy has awarded Sweden eight Nobels — more than each of Asia, Africa, or Latin America.
The very first award, in 1901, made international news. Somehow nobody nominated Leo Tolstoy, whereas 17 members of the Académie Française endorsed the French poet Sully Prudhomme, and he won. The prize in its early years was treated as a competition between nations like the Olympics, says Sohlman.
But he thinks that “productive scandals” have helped make the award great. The literature prize has never been as controversial as the frankly political Peace Prize; but because greatness in literature is more subjective than in the sciences, the Academy’s choice reliably angers critics. They delight in drawing up lists of overlooked greats — James Joyce, Franz Kafka, Virginia Woolf, Marcel Proust, Constantine Cavafy, et cetera — though some of these achieved renown only after death.
The Academy’s permanent secretary when the prize began, Carl David af Wirsén, saw the job as crowning “the great men of continental [ie European] literature”. Women and non-Europeans couldn’t express universal truths. Admittedly, the Bengali Rabindranath Tagore won in 1913, but for his English translations of his Gitanjali prose poems.
WB Yeats, winner in 1923, wrote an account of his Nobel experience, “The Bounty of Sweden”, which captures the bewilderment that afflicts many laureates. When The Irish Times phones to say he has won, Yeats and his wife celebrate by cooking sausages. Heading to Stockholm for the ceremony with the Swedish king, Yeats sees faces staring in through the train window. He wonders what they are looking at, until someone explains they are looking at him. Fifty-five years later, the Yiddish writer Isaac Bashevis Singer strikes exactly the same tone: after a breakfast of eggs and bagels at his local drugstore on Miami Beach, he returns home to an unexpected phone call.
The prize soon acquired the prestige to certify entire “new” national literatures. The exotic beneficiary in 1930 was the US, when Sinclair Lewis became the first American laureate. The American winner of 1938, Pearl Buck, is remembered only as the prize’s chief dud. She faded into obscurity soon after writing her bestselling account of Chinese peasant life, The Good Earth. Buck was a first-time nominee, and that mis-step generated the unwritten rule that first-time nominees can’t win.
The Academy tries to make choices that will look good decades later. It often fails. Many laureates, such as the German Rudolf Eucken (1908) and Paul von Heyse (1910) have vanished, along with Buck. But Medin doesn’t blame the Academy. Almost all writers fade away, he says.
The Academician Kjell Espmark drew up an influential division of the award’s history into distinct periods. From 1946 through 1949, the Academy had a happy run of anointing literary pioneers: Hermann Hesse, André Gide, TS Eliot and the hitherto under-appreciated William Faulkner (who complained that the ceremony “was as long as a Mississippi funeral”).
One uncrowned pioneer was the American poet Ezra Pound. His applauding of the Holocaust on Italian Fascist radio had been “a ‘subhuman’ reaction”, said Academician and future UN secretary-general Dag Hammarskjöld. Where to draw the political line was a tricky judgment: Luigi Pirandello, who supported Fascism, won in 1934.
The prize was at its most politicised during the cold war, when the Academy chose the unreliable Soviet writer Boris Pasternak (1958) and dissidents Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (1970) and Joseph Brodsky (1987). Pasternak initially accepted the nobelevka, as the award is popularly known in Russia — but then, under pressure from the regime, rejected “this undeserved prize which has been presented to me”.
Some academicians are influenced by two proofs of quality: a record of winning other major prizes, and being amply translated
Jean-Paul Sartre, who refused the Nobel in 1964, noted among his reasons that the prize was “reserved for the writers of the West or the rebels of the East.” (Sartre also felt “tortured” by the “enormous sum” of prize money, “a very heavy burden”.)
Before the Academy crowned Solzhenitsyn, Sweden’s ambassador to Moscow warned that this “would lead to difficulties for our relations with the Soviet Union”. The Academy replied: “Yes, that could well be so, but we are agreed that Solzhenitsyn is the most deserving candidate.”
With the global decline of reading, the prize may never be so political again. Whereas Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago sold tens of millions of copies worldwide, today’s autocracies worry more about TikTok influencers.
From the late 1970s the Academy used the prize to draw attention to lesser-known talents such as Elias Canetti and Jaroslav Seifert. Medin says: “I know this from being on juries: there is always a pleasure if you can shape literary history.”
By the 1980s, the Academy — earlier than most of the western literary establishment — began looking beyond the west. This helped spur it into a more professional process. This starts with “qualified nominators” — members of literary institutions and academies, literature professors and previous laureates — who can propose winners. Some proposals consist of one word: “Sartre”, “Malraux”. Others are persuasive essays that push writers into contention. Certain writers such as Philip Roth (who never won) and Günter Grass (crowned in 1999) become semi-permanent candidates, considered year after year.
Since 2021, a group of designated outside experts writes annual reports on their fields of expertise. Nobody can nominate themselves, though there’s a tradition of writers lobbying for the prize by giving talks in Gothenburg or Stockholm and then flirting with Academy members over drinks.
A “Nobel Committee” of four or five academicians whittles down the nominations to a shortlist of five, which the Eighteen spend the summer reading. They decide in early October.
Notable Nobels
Laureates in pictures
Sully Prudhomme (1901)
The French poet became the first winner of the prize after being endorsed by 17 members of the Académie Française
Rabindrath Tagore (1913)
At a time when women and non-Europeans were largely ignored by the Academy, the Bengali Rabindranath Tagore won the prize — but for his English translations of his Gitanjali prose poems
Sinclair Lewis (1930)
By 1930 the prize had acquired the prestige to certify entire “new” national literatures, with Lewis becoming the first American laureate
Pearl Buck (1938)
The American winner is remembered only as the prize’s chief dud. She faded into obscurity soon after writing her bestselling account of Chinese peasant life, “The Good Earth”
Samuel Beckett (1969)
Beckett was on holiday in Tunisia with his wife Suzanne when a telegram from his French publisher arrived: “In spite of everything, they have given you the Nobel Prize. I advise you to go into hiding”
Alexander Solzhenitsyn (1970)
Sweden’s ambassador to Moscow warned the Academy that awarding the prize to Solzhenitsyn “would lead to difficulties for our relations with the Soviet Union”
Elfriede Jelinek (2004)
At the time of her Nobel win, Jelinek wasn't even a bestselling author in her native Austria. She despaired at being cast into the public eye
Doris Lessing (2007)
When Lessing won the Nobel, she was unpleasantly surprised to find reporters camped in her front garden and on hearing the news she replied: “Oh, Christ”
Bob Dylan (2016)
Dylan ignored the Academy’s phone calls and didn’t acknowledge the prize for over a fortnight. While his award was ridiculed, it also sparked a global debate on what constitutes literature
Yet now that they have to consider the entire world, where to start? Helpfully, many African and Asian candidates write in English, the language of 13 of the 31 laureates from 1991 (South Africa’s Nadine Gordimer) to 2021 (Abdulrazak Gurnah of Tanzania).
And some academicians are influenced by two proofs of quality: a record of winning other major prizes, and being amply translated. A “universal” writer is someone whose work transcends their own language, says Medin.
Translation has become central to the award. A new book, Literary Translation and the Nobel Prize, edited by Paul Tenngart and Karl Ågerup, argues that translators can help make laureates. The translators of German-Jewish poet Nelly Sachs (winner in 1966), Pablo Neruda (1971) and Mo Yan (2012) all sat in the Swedish Academy.
The Nobel has helped make the international canon more inclusive. After going global, the prize has recently become gender-equal. This followed a #MeToo scandal in 2017, when 18 women accused the French husband of Academician Katarina Frostenson of sexual assault and rape. He was later jailed. In a year of global scandals, this one was little noticed outside Sweden, but it remade the Academy. Several members quit — although the body’s rules forbid resignation — and the post-scandal “Eighteen” included many more women. They awarded the 2018 prize, a year late, to Polish writer Olga Tokarczuk, and there have been three female laureates since 2018. In fact, notes Kaj Schueler, author of a Swedish book on the prize, there’s been a precise pattern: male and female victories alternate. If that continues, then after Krasznahorkai’s win in 2025, this year’s laureate would be a woman, perhaps it will be Xue’s year?
The winners’ reactions are part of the award’s lore. John Steinbeck in 1962, when asked whether he deserved the Nobel, replied, “Frankly, no”. (Many critics agreed.) Samuel Beckett (1969) was on holiday in Tunisia with his wife Suzanne when a telegram from his French publisher arrived: “In spite of everything, they have given you the Nobel Prize. I advise you to go into hiding.” Suzanne, when told the news, exclaimed, “Quelle catastrophe.” Beckett dubbed December 10, the annual date of the award ceremony, “Nobloodybeldamday”.
In 2007 Doris Lessing, clambering out of a taxi laden with groceries, was unpleasantly surprised to see reporters camped in her front garden. Told she had won, she exclaimed, “Oh, Christ.” Asked to elaborate, she said, “Well, it’s been going on now for thirty years. One can’t get more excited than one gets, you know.”
In 2014, Peter Handke said, “They should finally abolish the Nobel Prize,” and then won it, controversially given his support for Serbian nationalism, in 2019. Bob Dylan, winner in 2016, ignored the Academy’s phone calls and didn’t acknowledge the prize for over a fortnight.
Yet easy as it is to dismiss the prize, and its inevitable element of randomness, it matters. Dylan’s award was ridiculed but sparked a global debate on what constitutes literature. Gloriously, too, the prize is only concerned with a writer’s supposed quality, not their popularity: laureates Elfriede Jelinek (Austria, 2004) and Herta Müller (Germany and Romania, 2009) weren’t bestsellers even in their own countries.
The Nobelpreis-Effekt, as the Germans call it, can turbocharge sales. The month after short-story writer Alice Munro won in 2013, her sales jumped 4,424 per cent in her native Canada and 4,213 per cent (probably from a low base) in Italy. The beneficiaries are often small presses that are nowadays the most likely to publish literature in translation. In the English-language world, Fitzcarraldo in south-east London, with only six full-time employees, had four authors, Svetlana Alexievich, Tokarczuk, Annie Ernaux and Jon Fosse crowned from 2015 through 2023. If Ernaux’s books reach one kid in a faraway country who hadn’t heard of her before, the prize matters, says Medin.
And it matters more in a world where book reviews and reading itself are in decline. Only the Nobel announcement can get a poet’s name trending on social media. Next Thursday’s announcement, with all its attendant scorn and outrage, is an ancient ritual that may be good for literature.
In a report released on Monday, PEN America said that there had been 34,000 instances of book bans since the organization started tallying the increasing “book censorship crisis” across US schools in 2021. PEN said that new state-level censorship laws fueled much of this increase, in conjunction with the implementation of artificial intelligence tools that remove an expansive number of titles.
Texas saw the greatest number of book bans in the 2025-2026 school year – more than 8,100. PEN America’s report said this surge in Texas stemmed from the Texas law SB13, which bars extensive categories of books in schools.
Florida had previously ranked No 1 in school book bans for the three previous years. The bans involved a “record number of unique titles” – exceeding 7,000 – involving more than 4,000 authors, illustrators and translators. Analysts found 114 school districts that banned books during the school year, “the highest number ever for a single year”…”
Grapes, I knew grapes from having seen them last year.
One bunch of them, and there began to be
Bunches all round me growing in white birches,
The way they grew round Leif the Lucky’s German;
Mostly as much beyond my lifted hands, though,
As the moon used to seem when I was younger,
And only freely to be had for climbing.
My brother did the climbing; and at first
Threw me down grapes to miss and scatter
And have to hunt for in sweet fern and hardhack;
Which gave him some time to himself to eat,
But not so much, perhaps, as a boy needed.
So then, to make me wholly self-supporting,
He climbed still higher and bent the tree to earth
And put it in my hands to pick my own grapes.
‘Here, take a tree-top, I’ll get down another.
Hold on with all your might when I let go.’
I said I had the tree. It wasn’t true.
The opposite was true. The tree had me.
The minute it was left with me alone
It caught me up as if I were the fish
And it the fishpole. So I was translated
To loud cries from my brother of ‘Let go!
Don’t you know anything, you girl? Let go!’
But I, with something of the baby grip
Acquired ancestrally in just such trees
When wilder mothers than our wildest now
Hung babies out on branches by the hands
To dry or wash or tan, I don’t know which,
(You’ll have to ask an evolutionist)-
I held on uncomplainingly for life.
My brother tried to make me laugh to help me.
‘What are you doing up there in those grapes?
Don’t be afraid. A few of them won’t hurt you.
I mean, they won’t pick you if you don’t them.’
Much danger of my picking anything!
By that time I was pretty well reduced
To a philosophy of hang-and-let-hang.
‘Now you know how it feels,’ my brother said,
‘To be a bunch of fox-grapes, as they call them,
That when it thinks it has escaped the fox
By growing where it shouldn’t-on a birch,
Where a fox wouldn’t think to look for it-
And if he looked and found it, couldn’t reach it-
Just then come you and I to gather it.
Only you have the advantage of the grapes
In one way: you have one more stem to cling by,
And promise more resistance to the picker.’
One by one I lost off my hat and shoes,
And still I clung. I let my head fall back,
And shut my eyes against the sun, my ears
Against my brother’s nonsense; ‘Drop,’ he said,
‘I’ll catch you in my arms. It isn’t far.’
(Stated in lengths of him it might not be.)
‘Drop or I’ll shake the tree and shake you down.’
Grim silence on my part as I sank lower,
My small wrists stretching till they showed the banjo strings.
‘Why, if she isn’t serious about it!
Hold tight awhile till I think what to do.
I’ll bend the tree down and let you down by it.’
I don’t know much about the letting down;
But once I felt ground with my stocking feet
And the world came revolving back to me,
I know I looked long at my curled-up fingers,
Before I straightened them and brushed the bark off.
My brother said: ‘Don’t you weigh anything?
Try to weigh something next time, so you won’t
Be run off with by birch trees into space.’
It wasn’t my not weighing anything
So much as my not knowing anything-
My brother had been nearer right before.
I had not taken the first step in knowledge;
I had not learned to let go with the hands,
As still I have not learned to with the heart,
And have no wish to with the heart-nor need,
That I can see. The mind-is not the heart.
I may yet live, as I know others live,
To wish in vain to let go with the mind-
Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me
That I need learn to let go with the heart.
Cited in Ann Patchett's "Whistler," and reprinted here in toto (it's in the public domain) from LiteraryTheory and Criticism, where there is relevant contextual information about the poem being a companion piece to his "Birches." Boldface added to my favorite phrases.
Things You Wouldn't Know If We Didn't Blog Intermittently."
"I took this in 2025 in the Maasai Mara, Kenya, in the Oltepesi area. Three young giraffes were standing side by side on the savanna and looked back at me with great curiosity. Right behind the middle one stood a single umbrella acacia, perfectly lined up with its head and neck. The giraffe seemed to be wearing the tree, like a green hairdo or a fancy hat. Nothing was staged or arranged; it was a matter of being in the right spot at the right moment’"
Via The Guardian, where this was one of several featured photos from the Nikon Comedy Wildlife Awards finalists for 2026. (Image cropped for emphasis from the original)
“Scared and sacred are spelled with the same letters. Awful proceeds from the same root word as awesome. Terrify and terrific. Every negative experience holds the seed of transformation.”
O'Brien pulls no punches in this address, traversing Al to neoliberalism, education, inequality and the state of politics. He says we're living through 'the perfect storm' - asking the tough questions of power, exploring the threats to our society and democracy, and what he feels should be done about it.
Abstract: The second of December 2024 marked the 30th anniversary of the last sitting day of the Legislative Assembly of New South Wales during the 50th Parliament (1991- 1995). The general election held in May 1991 resulted in a hung Legislative Assembly. This provided the political circumstances for the negotiation of a Memorandum of Understanding for a Charter of Reform (the Charter) between the government and key independent members.
The Charter aimed ‘to provide stable Government in return for broader accountability reforms ‘to enhance Parliamentary democracy’. Practice in the Legislative Assembly prior to 1991 gives the context that shaped the motivation for one
member to seize an unexpected opportunity to consolidate and transform parliamentary practice through the Charter.
The Charter frames this case study by analysing the accountability measures implemented through sessional orders, amendments to the standing orders and practice. The analysis in this article will show how the Charter curbed and reversed the tide of executive dominance in parliament, demonstrating why procedure matters’.
Most of the transformed parliamentary practice from the 50th Parliament remains. The evidence shows that the changes have strengthened the parliamentary means available to members to both hold the executive to account as well as to directly raise issues in the House.
Looking back over the 30 years, the Charter has had an ongoing positive impact on the procedural culture of the Legislative Assembly.
INTRODUCTION
The 1991 general election for the 50th Parliament of New South Wales resulted in a minority government. The government, seeking to remain in office, entered negotiations with the four independent members who held the balance of power in the Legislative Assembly. This gave the independents a bargaining chip. In return for their support, the government agreed to a
programme of reforms to both government administration and parliamentary procedure to
enhance responsible government.
In the introduction to his book Responsible Government and the Australian Constitution2
Benjamin B. Saunders distilled the essence of responsible government as:
the principle that the government is a creature of, and accountable to, Parliament,
which is supposed to play a key role in scrutinising the actions of the executive and
holding it to account.3
The proposed programme of reforms to parliamentary practice and procedure aimed to
redress the imbalance between the executive and parliament by targeting executive
accountability measures and creating more opportunities for members in the parliament. The subject of executive accountability is a perennial theme for legislatures. Best parliamentary practice measures are transferrable, as those tried and tested in one jurisdiction are regularly adapted by other jurisdictions.
With the perspective of 30 years, this article highlights the Legislative Assembly of the 50th
Parliament (1991-1995) with the central focus on the outcomes arising from the procedural
reforms. The article will outline the source of the power inherent in parliamentary procedure,
the context of the reform principles of the Charter of Reform, the specific reforms to the
standing orders, their application and impact on procedure as sessional orders,4 and their
outcomes.
THE IMPORTANCE OF PARLIAMENTARY PRACTICE
In the article Playing by the Rules,
5 Philip Norton, the Director of the Centre for Legislative Studies, and a Member of the House of Lords, explores how parliamentary procedure has evolved and why the rules have endured,6 and the ‘institutional attributes which cannot be easily unpicked’.7 He states that details in the rules are important and have consequences. He illustrates his argument with the examples of the Scotland and Wales Bill in 1977, the Wild
Mammals (Hunting with Hounds) Bill in 1997 and the European Communities (Amendment) Bill (referred to as the Maastricht Bill) in 1992-93 as significant government legislation8 that faced ‘the constraining hand of parliamentaryo procedure’9 in the House of Commons.
However, standing orders and practice are not set in stone. Norton adds that long established
standing orders are adapted and amended over time. He concludes that while rules may not constrain government as some would like, nonetheless procedure is a constraint. Therefore, attention to detail is important as ‘procedure matters’.10
The Constitution Act 1902 (NSW) (the Constitution) provides the authority for the LegislativeAssembly and the Legislative Council (the Assembly and Council respectively) to each ‘prepare and adopt’ rules and orders to ‘regulate’ the conduct and proceedings of the Houses.11 The scope of the power is limited to matters internal to the Houses or matters permitted by other Acts to be regulated by the standing orders. However, it is with the stipulation that once adopted by the House, the standing rules and orders must be laid before the Governor for approval.
The Constitution does not dictate how the Houses are to conduct their functions. As one of the key functions of parliaments is to hold the executive to account it follows that the power to make standing rules and orders is a key element of the doctrine of responsible government.
Rules and practice also evolve over time to redress any short comings, facilitate procedure to meet the challenges of new circumstances, adapt practices from other jurisdictions and to
reflect the values, expectations, diversity and demographic changes in the membership of the House.
The last occasion a government had a majority in the Council was 1988. Since then, it has
increasingly asserted itself against the executive through adopting new practice and standing orders. Likewise, the Assembly, arising from a hung House, had its own opportunity to transform parliamentary practice to strengthen the ability of members to make the executive more responsible to parliament.
JOHN HATTON
John Hatton was the independent member for South Coast in the Legislative Assembly from
1973 until 1995. Prior to entering parliament, he was engaged in community activism and
joined the South Coast Villages Progress Association, before being elected to Shoalhaven Shire
Council, and later becoming the Shire President.12
Frustrated at ministers not taking notice of representations made by the council Hatton
decided to contest the 1968 general election for the seat of South Coast. Running against the
sitting member, who was the Minister for Conservation, Hatton reduced the minister’s
majority. At the third attempt in 1973 Hatton won the seat when the incumbent minister chose
not to seek re-election and, the opposition strategically did not contest the seat.
The obstacles, difficulties, and technicalities Hatton faced when running for election and then
as a member strengthened his resolve to:
follow small procedural details of the political process, knowing that to ignore them
would restrict his freedom to act or even silence him.
13
In Hatton’s first term, on a crossbench of three independents, he was an outsider who took the
opportunity to observe proceedings and gain an understanding of procedure, as:
Increased knowledge on parliamentary procedures allowed him greater influence
in Parliament.14
This knowledge and experience were to serve Hatton well. In those years the atmosphere of
the Assembly was combative with ‘no quarter asked, none given’. For instance, in the year of
Hatton’s election, the opposition dubbed the Leader of the House ‘Stainless Steel’15 for his
proclivity to apply the guillotine16 on the consideration of government legislation. Living up to
the Assembly’s sobriquet of the ‘Bear Pit’.
Hatton was shaped by his near 20 years’ experience in a House dominated by Liberal-Country, Labor and Liberal-National governments to build a reputation for integrity and probity. Noting the limited opportunities, he questioned how the House worked and how it might be improved.
To him:
it seemed that parliamentary procedures were aimed directly at silencing those in
opposition to government and particularly those outside the party structure.17
Prime examples being non-answers in question time, questions on notice left unanswered, the use of the gag18 and the guillotine and the lack of opportunities for backbenchers in the House.
Presciently, ten days before the 1991 election, Hatton was asked what he would do in the case of a hung House.19 His answer was an outline of the principles that would go on to form the basis of the Charter.
THE HUNG HOUSE AND THE CHARTER OF REFORM
The election did result in a hung Assembly. The Greiner Liberal-National Party Government had won the most seats but lost its absolute majority. This prompted the government to explore assorted options to continue in office, including negotiating with the independent members:
John Hatton,20 Peter Macdonald,21 Clover Moore22 and Tony Windsor.23
Windsor concluded his own agreement to support the government ‘in return for a series of concessions to his electorate’.24 While the other three, dubbed the 'unaligned' independents, took longer to negotiate the basis for their support to the government.
John Hatton is elevated as the ‘one member’ referred to in the title of this article because he
was into his seventh and last term, Moore only her second term and Macdonald his first. This
is not to dismiss the role of Moore and Macdonald. For without them Hatton would have had a diminished influence in the negotiations.
When negotiating with the government the three independents did not miss their opportunity!
In return for voting with the government on appropriation, supply and no confidence motions (not involving corruption or gross maladministration), there was agreement on a Memorandum of Understanding for a Charter of Reform (the Charter).25
The preamble stated the aim of the Charter was ‘to enhance Parliamentary democracy and open and accountable Government in New South Wales’.26
To achieve this, the Charter
proposed major accountability reforms, including:
•Constitutional reform and protection of the independence of the Parliament
•Reform of the Procedures of the Parliament
•Reform of the Legislative Process
•Scrutiny of the Election Process
Guaranteeing Open and Accountable Government through strengthening the Freedom of Information Act and greater scrutiny of statutory authorities and Rights of Citizens through whistleblower protection,
defamation law reform, scrutiny of the legal profession, strengthening the roles of the
Ombudsman and the Auditor-General and third party rights.
The Charter also expressed concerns that:
the Legislature and the procedures of the Legislative Assembly provide too few
opportunities for real participation by Members in the shaping and enactment of legislation, …and that much more can and should be done to enhance the ability of Members to make the Executive Government … more accountable to the Legislature.27
Thus the Charter set out proposals to be trialled as sessional orders with a view to incorporating them in the standing rules and orders and becoming established parliamentary practice.
The ‘unaligned’ independents also sought the conversion of the standing orders into plain English. 28
The parliamentary aspects of the Charter are the focus of this article. It set in train the transformation of Assembly practice to improve its capacity to scrutinise the government and to increase opportunities for members. The Charter will frame this case study to assess it impact on parliamentary practice…
This year’s Byron Writers Festival witnessed a remarkable lecture from the legendary and much-loved journalist Kerry O’Brien, now a Northern Rivers local, on ‘Lessons From History’.
It was standing room only, with more listeners outside beneath umbrellas, for the 2026 Thea Astley Address, which honours the prolific, multiple award-winning author’s memory.
As host Richard Flanagan reminded the audience at the Jonson Street Stage, Kerry O’Brien’s working life mirrored an extraordinary period of Australian history. ‘By his retirement in 2015, free-to-air television had begun its decline into the increasing irrelevance it now occupies in our culture, but over that half century in which politics and TV went hand in hand, Kerry became the guide to power that people trusted…
‘It was in his holding the dun-coloured party hacks and blathering blimps of power to account night after night on The 7.30 Report that endeared him and thrilled the nation and reminded us of what was right and what was wrong, what we should expect of our politicians, and where they had failed us.’
Richard Flanagan noted that following his retirement from television, Kerry O’Brien had spent the best part of 2023 explaining the Voice around the country in the lead-up to the referendum, together with Thomas Mayo, alas to no avail.
He suggested that what had always set Kerry’s work apart was his unusual moral clarity. ‘It was this quality, too often absent in journalism, coupled to his immense experience, his journalism spanning the dying years of Menzies conservatism and the hope of Whitlam, through to the dying years of the Labor Party as a progressive force, that allowed Kerry to expose the truth.’
Multi-award winning author Richard Flanagan was Kerry O’Brien’s interviewer and MC at the Byron Writers Festival.
Mr Flanagan described the lecture the audience was about to hear as a cry from Kerry O’Brien’s heart. ‘He is looking at the profound historic changes that have reshaped the world in the last fifty years and weathered our country…
‘[This] is a great roar of rage and defiance about our world and where it is and where it needs to go. And it is all anchored in the experience of his remarkable life.’
Walking on stilts
Kerry O’Brien began his address humbled by this introduction, saying ‘I feel like I’m walking on stilts, and thank you also to the wonderful Jessica, Alice, and her team for inviting me to deliver this lecture, and congratulations to one of Australia’s great festivals for the enduring cultural and intellectual gift it has given this region for an uninterrupted thirty years.’
He said Thea Astley’s importance in Australian literature, quite apart from a style that challenged the norms of her time, ‘was that of a talented, evocative, and perceptive female writer through the second half of the last century, who didn’t mince her words in speaking truth that much of Australia was trying to ignore.
‘She was drawn to outsiders in small communities, but there were big recurring themes around racism and prejudice, greed and hypocrisy, the dominion of men, and the failure of institutions.
‘There’s a particular fury in the way she wrote about injustice. Thea Ashley once told an aspiring young writer, “To be a writer has nothing to do with pen and paper. To be a writer, you have to have the eyes to see about you what others don’t see, the ears to hear what’s not said, but most importantly, the bloody heart to cope with the immensity of it all.”
‘And having the bloody heart to cope with the immensity of it all is what I want to talk about today.’
Mr O’Brien spoke about the profound impact of digitisation, and the other great disruptor of the last fifty years, ‘inelegantly identified as neoliberalism… The ideology that has driven and coerced government as we once knew it to make itself smaller, privatise its services, nobble the trade unions – which have been one of humanity’s great civilising forces – and cede the dominant role in determining the kind of society we want to be to the free market and the alleged freedom of the individual, rather than the imperative of the common good.’
As for those who continue to argue that the digital revolution will create more jobs than it wipes out, and make our lives better, Kerry O’Brien said, ‘A: they’re engaging in guesswork, not facts. And B: the machinery of the industrial revolution never threatened to replicate, even replace human intelligence.
‘Analogies between the printing press and the explosion of social media on the internet can only be taken so far. The impact of the printing press evolved over centuries. Social media has been rapid, personalised, global, more accessible, largely ungoverned, and is far more widely open to toxic manipulation and the perpetration of evil.’
He suggested that democracy was being fundamentally corrupted before our eyes, and the government response over time has ‘often been acquiescent, often inconsistent, and often inadequate. The world has always been subject to change, but never this quickly, this intensely…’
‘Have we really reached the point in our democracies where people are driven to vote for a Trump, a Farage, or a Hanson, all using the same shallow right-wing populist formula: fear, prejudice, playing loose with the truth, and resentment? Too many people, driven by frustration, powerlessness, and blind anger, just want to punish mainstream politicians, even if they’re going to blow themselves up in the process.’
Mr O’Brien said this wasn’t like the Cuban Missile Crisis or a global financial crisis. ‘It’s about the accumulated coincidence of things that have come together over a long period to undermine and seriously weaken our capacity to resolve the very existential policy challenges we’re facing.’
Kerry O’Brien speaking at the 2026 Byron Writers Festival. Photo Jeff Dawson
Digital revolution
Kerry O’Brien said that while neoliberalism might have ‘crept up on us’ here in Australia, he had been reporting on the digital transformation since 1972, when he did a five part series on where computers were taking society.
‘The one element from that series that I have never forgotten was the concern expressed by a Sydney sociologist who had been a computer programmer that the human capacity to foresee and plan effectively over time for the societal impact of computers, not least on the future of work, would be woefully inadequate, that we could end up with a global workforce divided between the workers with jobs who would come to resent the many more drones, who in turn would have more time on their hands, whether they liked it or not; that those who controlled the technology would hold the reins of power.
‘How has it worked out so far? The echo of those words has stayed with me across the decades of constant and intense change.’
‘No one wants to be a Jeremiah about this extraordinary period of evolution. It has already delivered massive benefits, but there wasn’t just the opportunity, but a deep responsibility for governments, even back then, to sustain some mechanism for ongoing intelligent vigilance about where digitisation was heading, and engaging the public in exploring ways to ensure we directed and controlled the technology, rather than have it control us.’
He noted that in the intervening years, big tech in America has pretty much had its way. ‘And what do we have now? A handful of ridiculously wealthy, often arrogant tech oligarchs ruling the roost, monetising our privacy, stealing our creative output… Not everyone’s a villain in this game, of course, but self-interest is writ large.’
Friedman and Hayek
Kerry O’Brien then moved on to the devastating legacy of two economists, Friedrich Hayek and Milton Friedman, whose ideas were sponsored initially by a handful of extremely rich and powerful American men, and then adopted by the most dominant and influential politicians of their era, Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher.
‘It was called neoliberalism, but was really just a dressed-up version of the old laissez-faire capitalism. Give us, the people of money and power… a free hand to make ourselves richer, with as little regulation as possible, sitting on trade unions, no bleeding heart politicians to get in the way, and magically everyone will benefit.
‘Their idea of democracy largely meant democracy for them. Their idea of freedom meant freedom for them. When they railed against elites, they meant the elites who didn’t agree with them, not the elitism they practiced themselves. State welfare was anathema to their idea of democracy because they said it would inevitably lead to communism.
‘Their formula: shrink government, cut services, sell off public assets, wage war on unions, support private schools over public, indeed, narrow the frame for what public schools taught to better serve corporate interests, deregulate the economy, and ideally, with some lip service to competition, let the market rip.’
Mr O’Brien talked about observing the ugly excesses of the free market, and Reagan in particular, when he was working in the USA as a foreign correspondent in the 1980s.
‘I was genuinely shocked to hear the hostility and the personal invective Reagan directed at America’s public school system, and in particular at its teachers. Like Trump, decades later, he too wanted to completely dismantle the federal Department of Education. He also played the race card in the way he sought to claim widespread welfare fraud to assist his justification for big cuts to welfare programs.’
Take no prisoners
As Hayek and Friedman’s ideas took root around the world, Kerry O’Brien said he became very familiar with the ‘take no prisoners’ version of neoliberalism as it became the system of government in Britain under Margaret Thatcher, influencing Australia in turn.
‘This was a prime minister who declared there was no such thing as society, there were only individual men and women whose job it was to look after themselves. A Guardian graph on household poverty under Thatcher showed an increase from 13 per cent of households to 22 per cent. That’s more than one in five households in poverty.
‘In 1988… I interviewed Thatcher on a visit to Australia about the impact of their ideological footprint on Britain. As the policies of the past eight years had sunk in, England had developed a sharp economic and social divide between north and south, with the south flourishing as the center of a new information economy, and the north sinking into a deep trough with the brutal decline of traditional manufacturing job losses.’
Kerry O’Brien speaking at the 2026 Byron Writers Festival. Photo Jeff Dawson
As Mr O’Brien remembered, Margaret Thatcher walked out of this interview when she ‘denied the undeniable about the north-south divide.’
He next spoke about the influence of the ultra-conservative think tank The Heritage Foundation on the USA, which has influenced and even written American government policy, from Reagan right up to Trump, and the Koch brothers, two industrialist billionaires who have arguably exercised more political power than any elected politician in modern history.
‘One strategy that’s been enhanced through the decades in America is called astroturfing, likened to a fake lawn or synthetic grass on a tennis court, referring to campaigns or movements falsely presented as spontaneous grassroots groundswell to influence policy debates.’ He talked about the role of this technique in spawning the Tea Party during the Obama era, pushing the Republican Party even further to the right.
‘With the help of AI today, fake identities can be manufactured by the tens of thousands. It’s instructive how much neoliberal agendas have been driven over the decades by the exercise of private power and money – what George Monbiot calls the invisible doctrine, and what the progressive economist Joseph Stiglitz describes as a jungle where only power matters. Is that us?’
‘The great irony in the way neoliberalism was perpetuated globally is that it wasn’t another conservative government that was next to pick up the baton from Reagan and Thatcher, it was Bob Hawke and Paul Keating here in Australia.’
Kerry O’Brien then went on to dissect in detail where that led, from housing to education, gambling and back to technology, despairing at the malaise of Labor despite their massive majority.
Progressive independence, and independents
So what are the chances Australia could reverse this trend and breathe fresh life into its democracy? Where does hope lie?
Mr O’Brien suggested we could take heart in the fact that we are not American – not yet. ‘We have been moving down the American road since the war. We’ve had overwhelming exposure to American culture through film, television, books, and music, to the narratives America has constructed about itself. Our mainstream political parties have borrowed shamelessly from theirs, but we are not America.
‘We may have turned our back on the idea of a republic and signed up to war, but we still have some chance of forging our own path in our own region in our own way. Unlike America, the structure of our democracy is more robust. We have compulsory voting, which has made it so much harder to corrupt our electoral system. We have a principle of one vote, one value in this country, no matter how humble the circumstance of the voter, which rules out gerrymanders.
‘Our electoral commission is an independent statutory authority, which seriously reduces the scope for political interference. But these things are nothing to be smug about. They are not enshrined in the Constitution, they were legislated, and they can be undone.’
As for the media, Kerry O’Brien said we should ‘look hard at the people and organisations that attack the ABC and SBS. Call out their motives. Don’t give up on the politicians. Don’t rely on them, but don’t give up on them. And when they let us down, don’t underestimate our capacity within communities to change the landscape for ourselves.
‘That’s how the Greens were born. That’s how Cathy McGowan led a community revolt in the Victorian regional seat of Indi after 74 years of Liberal National representation, initially through something as humble and basic as a series of kitchen table conversations, and went to Canberra as an independent. That’s how Zali Steggall led a revolt against Tony Abbott’s extreme evangelistic strand of liberalism in the Sydney lower North Shore seat of Warringah, and is now in her third term, increasing her majority each time.
Senator David Pocock, Wikipedia CC.
‘That’s how David Pocock, a born leader with clearly articulated values around integrity in public office, took on both major parties in the ACT, backed by more than 1,000 volunteers, becoming the first independent to win an ACT Senate seat in its near 50-year history, and is now in his second term with an increased majority. That’s also why we now have the teals.
‘Australia is on the way to entrenching a multi-party system of government. It is possible to change the system if it’s not working…
‘I refuse point blank to believe that we have no hope,’ he said. ‘I think it would be utterly tragic if we surrendered to a sense of defeatism. I think defeatism is just about the worst enemy of all.
‘I now have eight grandchildren. Two have been born in the last four years. I revel in their existence, but I think it’s shallow in the extreme for people of the generations represented in this room to say, “I have faith in our children to fix it, or in our grandchildren to fix it. The problem is here and now, and it is here and now that we should be fixing it.
I believe the spirit is in us to do it,’ said Kerry O’Brien, concluding his speech. ‘We just have to find it.’
