They say politics is a show for ugly people. Whether true or not, why has Budget night become its own showbiz-style extravaganza?
Don’t get me wrong, all the pomp and ceremony attached to this year’s Budget is no different from what happened in previous years. Both sides of politics are guilty of partying lavishly on budget night. The Liberals perhaps even more so than Labor did so last night after publicly bemoaning the financial pressures people are under for the first time in Treasurer Jim Chalmers’ budget speech.
We are currently experiencing a cost of living crisis with predictions of rising unemployment in the Budget not yet 24 hours old. Australia is already in a recession per capita.
Shouldn’t smart politicians at least aim to be somewhat in touch with the challenges facing ordinary Australians, if only for a night?
A lavish dinner at Parliament that charges diners thousands of dollars per ticket. Party fundraisers every time it happens. Tables full of businessmen, either before or after facing grilling in parliamentary committees and in the media about corporate excesses.
Maybe they joke about the charade over chardonnay on Budget night?
Treasurer Jim Chalmers’ wife Laura (centre right) and two of the couple’s children, Leo, eight, and Annabel, six, are pictured with Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s partner Jodie Haydon (left) in Budget night in Parliament. Canberra. Chalmers has come under fire for wearing a $1,900 designer suit that would cost most Australians a week’s wages.
New suits, ties and dresses will parade among a conga line of ministers assigned to different tables to talk about why this year’s Budget is so special. The annual predictions about the color and brand of the Treasurer’s tie.
Who cares.
Expensive suits and dresses may reflect the salaries our politicians and their associates earn, but why do they (foolishly) put their love of entertainment on hold for this one night of the year only to then highlight how out of touch they are with normal Australian society?
I don’t mind politicians and their associates wearing expensive suits on budget night. Actually, to be completely honest, I don’t care at all.
However, I am surprised by the lack of political sense involved in doing so. Likewise, I’d be surprised if they gave me an interview detailing exactly which of their colleagues they don’t like.
The political turn prevents them from doing so.
When the Budget dinner is over, they head to their chauffeured white cars to take them to the five-star hotel they decided to frequent that night. All of this, of course, paid for with parliamentary travel subsidies.
I am the last person who envies that the political class earns a decent salary. They work hard; most do it anyway. I have written before that perhaps pay rises would improve the caliber of those who choose to enter political life.
Treasurer Jim Chalmers is a former political staffer; So is his wife, Laura. In fact, so are too many politicians. For better or worse, they understand politics and the media.
In 2014, then-Treasurer Joe Hockey was photographed smoking a cigarette on a balcony on the eve of his first cost-cutting budget with then-Finance Minister Mathias Cormann. it was a bad look
That’s why they shouldn’t have been surprised by the reaction on social media that called them “top-notch deaf” because of the expensive dress they were wearing. It may be unfair, but not unexpected.
The pre-parliamentary background of MPs is increasingly over-represented by the narrow group of former political officials at the expense of a more community-representative parliament.
Whether criticizing the arrogance displayed by then-Treasurer Joe Hockey enjoying a cigar on a balcony on the eve of his first cost-cutting Budget, or the expensive wardrobe choices politicians and their spouses make on Budget night in general (Jim Chalmers ‘The wife is not the first nor will she be the last) an important part of political representation is reflecting the community represented.
At least in appearance, if not in reality.
Dr Chalmers and his wife are former political staffers and would be well aware of the bad optics of flaunting one’s wealth on budget night.
If pleasing the masses isn’t your thing, I totally understand. It’s not mine either. But then don’t choose a career in politics, where your survival depends on popular support.
It’s not that our politicians shy away from attempts to highlight how in touch they are with “the combatants” in other ways.
How many times have you heard Anthony Albanese talk about the challenges he faced as a child raised by a single mother on the housing commission? Or John Howard in his day referencing his working class roots. (His father owned gas stations, so I’ve always considered the “working class” reference to be a bit of a stretch. That said, for a Liberal MP to just own two gas stations is probably the working class version of him.) .
Peter Dutton used to be a Queensland police officer, did you know that? Of course he does, because he never shuts up about it.
While no one in their right mind should take my fashion advice, I’m reliably informed that there are plenty of great Australian fashion brands at a fraction of the cost of some of the outfits we’ve seen this budget week and beyond.
Outfits that anyone struggling under the pressures of the cost of living could aspire to buy.
Brands like Elliatt, Blue Illusion or Bec+ Bridge. Just don’t ask me to pick any of them from a list because I couldn’t. The same way I wouldn’t know if I accidentally threw a Carla Zampatti dress in the dryer.
