Wednesday, October 10, 2012

A classic speech from Gillard

Gillard's speech to the parliament this week about Abbott's misogyny is a watershed in her leadership. It was an 'about time' moment, especially for many women listeners. It was 'about time' in that many media commentators have lamented the lack of 'real Julia' presented to the public, and 'about time' in relation to an increasing tirade of sexist and offensive comments that have been directed at the Prime Minister by fellow politicians, the media and the public.

I should begin by saying I am not a fan of Gillard's leadership. More than a decade ago I attended one of her early Emily's list fund raisers, excited at the prospect of a progressive female candidate making a bid for the Senate. She did not succeed on that occasion, but later went on to do so. I am not convinced that deposing Rudd was a necessary move, although I accept he was unpopular amongst party colleagues and that most leaderships are taken by force. I don't agree that the policy platforms on which Rudd campaigned and won by a landslide were likely to bring annihilation for Labor at the next election. More importantly, I consider the price of leadership for Gillard was too great; she made compromises with and through the faceless men leading to the abandonment of principled positions she had previously staunchly taken. Politics in high office always requires compromise; however I guess it is a question of degree. I don't accept Gillard's positions on same sex marriage, asylum, and a range of other matters. And I support the view of Stephanie Convery that feminist credentials require advocacy and support for women from all walks of life. On the same day Gillard delivered her feisty anti sexism speech, the government approved a bill to cut payments for single parents, 'a measure that will disproportionately affect [the most vulnerable] women'.

Despite my perspective on Gillard's politics, I think it is important to make clear that I abhor the misogynist commentary that has shrouded her Prime Ministership. I also understand the symbolic and practical significance of a female Prime Minister. I often marvel at Gillard's resilience, strength, and grace under the incessant pummeling of the Federal opposition, media, and segments of the public; she has a determination and personal strength of which I am in awe. I am also encouraged that as my eight year old daughter's awareness of the world unfolds, she sees on television a woman Prime Minister. Playing Gillard's speech on my computer this week, I could see my daughter edge over behind me with eyes wide open to listen; we were both captivated. It was thrilling to see such passion from Gillard about the issue of sexism, whether or not the purpose of her comments was ultimately politically expedient. Any woman who has experienced sexist comments or behavior in work or public life is likely to have felt enormously validated by Gillard's delivery. Abbott has suggested in the parliament that Gillard should 'make an honest woman of herself', invoking a sexist stereotype about the relationship between a woman's marital status and her character. Can we imagine the outrage in the US, for example, if a commentator invoked Obama's race to criticise his performance? It would be outrageous.

Until this week, Gillard has usually avoided direct engagement with the issue of sexist commentary relating to her Prime Ministership. Her responses to comments and incidents of sexism by Tony Abbott and Alan Jones have been innocuous and deflective; one might say 'statesman like'. Women in leadership tread a precarious line; we must be seen to succeed 'on the merits' without reference to the impact of sexism on our endeavours, or risk being construed as whinging incompetents and excuse makers. It is worth noting that despite the innumerable occasions open to Gillard for commenting about Abbott's sexism, especially in relation to her personal and unfair treatment as Prime Minister, she used the matter of the Peter Slipper affair through which to introduce the topic. In short, although she invoked personal examples of offence taken and poor behavior from Abbott, she raised the issues under a broader framework of the Federal opposition's motion against Slipper. She did not invoke the spectre of sexism to protest her own unfair treatment as Prime Minister (which, as far as I'm concerned, she would be perfectly entitled to do). Instead, she drew upon it to suggest that Abbott's 'road to Damascus' discovery of sexism was a tool to depose Slipper. From a gendered perspective, it was a politically clever move. Gillard was able to keep the faith with her political strategy of generally not invoking the gender card in her own defense, but was concomitantly able to introduce the issue of Abbott's misogyny in the Parliament.

Gillard's speech was reported internationally, including the US, UK, and Canada, as a bold and strategic act. Conversely, much of the local media, mostly it appears male commentators, labelled it a mistake.

http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/politics/we-expected-more-of-gillard-20121009-27bd6.html#ixzz28rm4pm00http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/politics/we-expected-more-of-gillard-20121009-27bd6.html#poll
Yes - her actions were part of a political strategy in the unfortunate Peter Slipper mess and yes, as I have acknowledged, a broad range of criticisms can be made of Gillard. However such local media analysis beggars belief; it was a politically powerful speech, in content, delivery, and timing, and will certainly be one of the most remembered moments of her Prime Ministership. During a week in which Margie Abbot was attempting to stem the hemorrhaging of women's votes from the Liberal party, Gillard pointed out just how far Tony Abbott was from having an interest or commitment to women's rights. She was careful to draw distinctions between her individual views as a woman (for example on the issue of abortion, a political hot potato with conservative electors, but also a non negotiable right in the eyes of most women's lobbies) and issues that could be seen as offensive to all Australian women. Her choice of Abbott criticisms was carefully sequenced, leading to a climactic admonishment of Federal opposition front benchers for remaining silent in the face of Alan Jones' grotesque comments about her father. It should not escape our attention that during the week Turnball spoke out strongly against Jones' abhorrent behaviour; and that it was he who graced a conspicuous place in newspapers some weeks ago offering his condolences to Gillard in parliament.

On a personal note, I was interested to note Gillard's choice of Abbott quotes. We have been told by the media that little of the 'true Gillard' is presented for public consumption; the implication being that she hides herself. Given the wealth of sexist Abbott material that might be drawn upon, it was all the more interesting to see what had riled Gillard. Further, it was possible to identify through the inflections in her voice, the issues and instances about which she was more angry than others.

The sense I've gained from women colleagues and friends this week is that Gillard's speech felt cathartic; it was a symbolic response to a growing disgust amongst Australian women (and many men) regarding expressions of patent sexism in the public arena. Recent examples range from the purile and degrading comments of Kyle Sandilands, to those of Alan Jones who said current women leaders were 'destroying the joint'. And while some might not consider Jones' comments about Gillard's father sexist (I do), they were nonetheless innately vile. In another sexist display, Lindsay Tanner, and especially Christopher Pyne, behaved appallingly toward Kate Ellis on last Monday's Q & A. The brazen attitude underpinning this behaviour is provocative; it is one thing to hear sexist comments in private, but to hear their unfettered expression by prominent public figures is another.

The Federal opposition is clearly aware it has a 'woman problem'. Whatever its views of Margie Abbott, the press was in furious agreement that her appearance reflected poor polling numbers for Abbott. And is it any wonder. As Ellis explained on Monday, neither she nor women voters need to be convinced of Margie's love for Tony. It is Abbott's position on women's issues and rights that worries women. This problem would not be fixed even if Wonder Woman was to stand alongside Abbott and proclaim his comfort at living among her sisters on Amazon island. History's greatest misogynists have lived with women - even 'strong women' - so this is no badge of feminism. Judgments of Abbott by women, and progressive men, is based on his past and present comments; his own words and deeds rather than constructions of them. And Gillard's passionate oration this week offered some salve to those of us who have screamed silently at the radio and television while the likes of Abbott and Jones set the equality cause back 100 years.












Monday, October 1, 2012

Reclaim the Night - Reconciling past and future practices


The death of Jillian Meagher has shaken and touched Melbournians. People want to do something with the grief, anger, and sadness they feel over the events of this week. It is a a testament to the beauty and strength of Melbourne's residents that most of that action reflects a desire to make meaning of things in a positive way; to stand in solidarity with Jillian's family and friends through flower tributes, moving prose and memorials, and by speaking out about the broader issue of violence against women. Numbers of marches and rallies promoting peace and the right of women to walk safely in the streets have been, or are being, planned. Among these is a Reclaim the Night march, drawing on a long tradition of marches that arose during the 'second wave' of feminism in the 1960s. Reclaim the Night marches are historically organised, run, and attended by women only. Their purpose is to assert women's equal human rights by laying our equal claim to the public space - without depending on men's permission. In 2012 - and in particular this week - large numbers of men have expressed a desire to participate in the foreshadowed march. It has been no surprise to me that almost all women in the generation below me think men's participation is welcome and imperative; however the historical exclusion of men from these events did not occur in some rabid feminist, male hating vacuum. Before considering how practices of the past might be reconciled with practices in the future, it is imperative to understand where women's only events and spaces originated from. 

When the second wave of feminism came about, women argued that they had been so dominated and suppressed in society that they wanted spaces where they could think through issues, find their own voices, and decide for themselves - without men driving the agenda. Patriarchy is a system that encourages a normative view which enables men to have power over women. This doesn't mean every man will exert that power in a negative way, just like it doesn't mean that every white person is evil in a racist world; however it does mean that all those who are privileged in the dominant social circumstances (e.g. men in a patriarchy) benefit from that system, while often denying its existence. There is a plethora of research from last century to show that in dual sex spaces (e.g. even in classrooms) boys dominat(ed) talk, ideas, and decision making. In a patriarchy, both men and women learn their roles. To a large extent, the second wave of feminism was about challenging these 'taken for granted' roles; including women's historical role of turning to men or the male space for 'permission'. In late 20th Century, women leaders wanted the chance to think out loud without the criticism of patriarchal institutions (such as the media) curbing their ability to define women's roles in new ways. But most importantly, they didn't want to have to seek men's permission to act in relation to issues which were about their human rights. It was absolutely critical that 'helpful' men didn't step in and drive and decide the agenda. Thus there were consciousness raising groups (where women discussed issues from the banality of housework to the labor of beauty regimes), many women's only spaces, and of course rallies like Reclaim the Night. 

Men were often offended and affronted by women's only events/spaces - after all it was women, not men, whose participation in public spaces had been highly regulated. Women's efforts to assert power over themselves and their own lives were undermined in myriad ways. Feminists were caricatured as man hating, hairy legged, abominations. The patriarchy told us there were 'good women' (who were heterosexual, adhered to proper beauty standards, were married or looking for a suitable husband,  and who 'waited' for their rights) and 'bad women' (who had taken things 'too far'). Our feminist fore-mothers fought the effects of patriarchy among both men and women; part of patriarchy's tactics was to divide and conquer, with 'good women' critiquing the behaviours of 'bad women'. It is in this context that women's only spaces took on such significance.

When movements of liberation are gearing up or occurring, the importance of separate spaces cannot be underestimated. Diasporic slave communities (like the African Americans), indigenous communities (e.g. Aboriginal Australia), LGTB communities - have all struggled to articulate, own, and represent themselves in ways that aren't invidiously influenced or straight out censored by dominant, white, straight, patriarchal agendas. That these groups might seek to direct and control spaces and events about their own issues is hardly offensive. These safe spaces have been used to think through and challenge ideas that have been sold as 'common sense'. For example, patriarchal ideology tells us that women invite attack, through their behaviour and dress, from men who cannot be expected to help themselves. Therefore it makes 'common sense' to counsel women that they can be 'helped' to live free from violence if they simply behave according to appropriate feminine standards. That women might wear short skirts and red lipstick, and march in the night time without male chaperons and male permission flies in the face of this historical 'common sense'. A further popular means through which patriarchal society tries to minimise the appearance that violence is one of its pervasive strategies is by suggesting that there are only a few 'errant' men who offend publicly (stranger danger) while the vast majority of men 'behave' - again, vesting blame with the women who invite attack from the errant few. Of course, we know that violence is a more institutional problem. Most women are violated by men they know in the private space. Reclaim the Night is about saying that women have every entitlement to public space, and that it is theirs to claim, without the need to seek permission or conform to a particular standard of 'appropriate' female behaviour.

So where might men's participation fit in a 2012 march? Much has changed in the past sixty years, including the attitudes of society generally and of many men. I would never argue, and think it is disingenuous to argue, that little has changed for women; my life, and the life of many of my friends, is a testament to that change. However change is slow and erratic; and it favours some over others. One thing that hasn't changed are the ideas that patriarchy promotes to undo feminist change. And among those ideas is a persistent claim that the battle has already 'been won'; that feminism is no longer necessary. Many of the young people with whom I've worked in higher education consider themselves liberated from gender politics and believe that violence against either men or women is the same kind of infraction. Yes - all violence is bad. However it is pivotal to recognise discourses of discrimination that systematically dis-empower particular groups through violence. Violence against women is disproportionately perpetrated by men. Violence against minority groups is a strategy to encourage individuals in those groups to self regulate - to be 'good women' or 'good migrants' or good whatever. Violence has been a tool for the subjugation of minority groups for eons; segregation was maintained in the US through lynchings of black men who didn't 'mind their place'. Aboriginal deaths in custody might also be seen as a case in point. In short, yes - all violence is bad - but to recoil from naming institutionalised, political violence (in big or small forms) that privileges some groups over others is, I think, to ignore social injustice. Gender disparity is effected through thousands of big and small acts every day. I have been lucky enough to grow up in an era where legislative inequality has been largely challenged (at least on its face). I've had the benefit of a quality education and I've made hundreds of choices that were not available to my mother; I have the women's movement and all the men who supported it to thank for that.  However continuing forms of oppression - unequal wages, a continuing gendered segregation of labour, the legislating of women's body rights, and violence and objectifying practices designed to keep women 'in their place', are keen reminders that gender inequity is social and institutional. It is not, as patriarchal ideology would have us believe, just in the minds of a few women who take things 'too far'.

Despite the importance of marginal groups claiming their own voices and spaces, it has always been the case (and still is) that individuals from more privileged groups have supported, assisted, and even sometimes given their lives in support of social justice causes. Personally, I feel humbled to see the number of men who have spoken up this week about the issue of violence against women and its unacceptability - it is definitely a different world to the one my mother grew up in. I think anybody who is prepared to challenge discriminatory social discourses, even if they are privileged by them, should be included in the movement for change. However participation, and entitlement, are two different things. Men should not be allowed to speak for women. For example, I do not think it is alright for the men interested in supporting a Reclaim the Night march to decide the parameters of the march, including  whether or not they should be allowed to march. Male marchers need to be respectful of the terms upon which women are marching. When I work and activate with my friends, loved ones and colleagues in Aboriginal, LGBT, or migrant politics, I recognise that I am being invited 'in'. I do not walk in their shoes and I do not speak for them. My obligation is to listen to the impact of their lived experiences and to privilege their understandings of those experiences. It is also to share whatever knowledge and skills I can in order to help bring about change. I consider it a privilege and a responsibility to create change in terms that respect their voices.

Reclaim the Night is a march with a particular purpose. That purpose has been debated, refined, and developed over decades by women who struggled to assert their rights in circumstances where they were characterised as 'bad' for doing so. Reclaim the Night is not about trying to 'protect' women, or demanding that a few rogue men should be put in jail; it is about highlighting violence as a social and institutional issue - as an exercise of patriarchal power.  It is about women marching to claim the public space, with men's permission or not. Very importantly, it should not carry messages that re-inscribe old fashioned stereotypes about women and how they should behave.  There is a real danger that, in their efforts to ensure male relatives and friends feel comfortable and welcome at the march, women will seek to promote a more 'general' message about non violence, and dilute down the fact that violence against women is a gendered issue and that most violence against women is perpetrated by men. Such a step would simply be 'permission seeking' in another form. However, if the core values of RTN can be maintained, I will be thankful, excited, and joyful to participate in a march with both men and women in October 2012.


Tuesday, August 21, 2012

A Matter of Opinion? Just what is meant by an 'Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers'

I was chatting with a family member over the weekend about climate change, which is never pretty as I try (often in vain) to compete with the Herald Sun. Nevertheless, being a researcher I felt it necessary to explain differences between opinion and evidence based conclusions. Don't get me wrong; I agree that even research is subjective and researchers must outline the methods and madness in their conclusions. I am also reminded, as I read Michael Chamberlain's book, that science is a human art. Nevertheless, I believe there is value in research method and so I leapt head first into my persuasive task. All major science associations in industrialised countries, I prosthelytised, and almost all scientists agree on three conclusions; that temperatures are rising, that humans are contributing to that rise, and that the long term consequences of this rise are pretty bad. Still, my relative replied, isn't that just 'their opinion'? Not in the world of research, I explained. Conclusions must have some kind of evidence base. We take years exploring a problem, gathering evidence, and writing it up. Even then, our work is not published until it is competitively scrutinised by a group of our peers to whom we must make available our raw data for inspection. We cannot imply causality if the evidence indicates only correlation. Add to this, I said, that in the field of climate science there are thousands upon thousands of these papers that have been published, across decades, in different countries, under different political and funding regimes. My explanation made an impact. However we are unlikely to hear these distinctions made by the Herald Sun or Tony Abbott any time soon. I agree that everyone is entitled to their own opinion; however, as the saying goes, everyone is not entitled to their own facts. And so it is that many readers of the Herald Sun without research experience are led to believe that an opinion column by Andrew Bolt is the same thing as the conclusions drawn by thousands of climate scientists around the world. To my mind, this is a sad thing.

The relationship between expertise, evidence, and asylum seeker policy in Australia has enjoyed its own set of difficulties. Notable academics, writers, and community sector leaders have consistently challenged misrepresentations of and inaccurate information about asylum seekers propelled by government, opposition, and the press (Clyne 2005, Marr 2006ASRC 2012, O'Brien 2012). These misrepresentations have commonly served to dehumanise and delegitimise asylum seekers, leading to policy outcomes that circumvent or undermine their rights. The Prime Minister's recent appointment of an 'Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers' has only served to muddy the waters further. A significant base of independent and evidence based research about asylum already exists in the community, much of which supports policy outcomes antithetical to those that have been proposed by consecutive governments (see for example Pickering 2012The Conversation 2012, submissions to the Expert Panel, etc). In this context, what kind of 'expertise' was it expected that a hand picked panel could bring. I should like to qualify my comments in this article by stating that I consider each of the 'Expert Panel' members to have unquestionable expertise in their relevant fields, as also recognised in their public honours. However I think it is incumbent upon us to interrogate the relationship between the kinds of expertise included on the panel, and the question of what kinds of expertise that might be relevant to resolving a complex policy equation around asylum seekers.

It is probably best to begin by considering the problem to which we must bring this expertise. In its terms of reference the 'Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers' was tasked with providing, 'advice and recommendations to the Government on policy options available, and in its considered opinion, the efficacy of such options, to prevent asylum seekers risking their lives on dangerous boat journeys to Australia'. This is one of many articulations of the asylum 'problem' over consecutive governments. Under Howard, and especially after 9/11, the 'asylum problem' was variously represented in relation to concerns about border control and security, in relation to individuals accused of disregarding the law (by being 'illegal'), by disregarding 'core' Australian values of fairness and civility (Clyne 2005), and as a concern about the affects of unsuccessful integration (Oxfam 2007, Caldwell 2007). The post 9/11 security frenzy around asylum seekers (being potential terrorists) ultimately proved to be a government beat up (less than 1% of arrivals have an adverse security report) and the concept of queues has been widely contested, although the exaggerated and xenophobic concerns about integration re-appear periodically. And it is never illegal to claim asylum as a refugee. Labor has sought to differentiate its articulation of 'the problem' from the Liberals. For example, it has placed greater emphasis on the demonisation and punishment of people smugglers (Aly 2012), much like punishing drug traffickers and pimps. But even the blanket demonisation of people smugglers has been criticised, as has been the rather tyrannical incarceration of the few low level and powerless smugglers who are caught. After Gillard's ascension, there was a noticeable change in articulation of the asylum problem to a concern about drownings.

Common to these diverse expressions of 'the asylum problem' has been the relatively consistent policy approach of 'deterrence'. The pursuit of deterrence has manifested variously in mandatory and remote detention measures, offshore processing, TPVs/restriction on family reunion rights, and limiting protection triggers, such as excising land from Australia's migration zone and turning boats around. This is notwithstanding some amelioration of the harsher measures by Rudd. My question is how such diverse articulations of a policy problem can seemingly result in such a consistent set of policy measures; how different problems all lead to the same answer. I am not the first to ask this question, and asylum is far from the first policy area to which it applies. The 'solution' of a US and allied invasion of Iraq was problematised first in relation to weapons of mass destruction, then the harbouring of Al Qaeda terrorists, then the importance of freeing Iraqi people from a dictator. It is easy to be cynical in such circumstances that some pre-ordained, politically popular solution takes first order over any perceived policy problem. Australian commentators have argued that asylum is a wedge issue from which neither side of politics can afford to recoil. Parties appealing to conservative voters poll better when taking 'tough' action against perceived rule breakers (e.g. asylum seekers, criminals, etc). In parliament this week, Melissa Parke MP lamented the current 'race to the base' by both sides of politics. 'I reflect with great disappointment that this area of policy has been dealt with  . . . in a way that represents a very low ebb in the tides of Australian politics and public policy. The discussion has often been so full of distortion and misrepresentation and fear mongering and point scoring . . . that it cannot be called a debate. And to the extent that we regard this outcome as a compromise, it is still a compromise at the lower end of what we are capable of as a nation'.

It is in light of this political context that the question of expertise and evidence must be examined - beginning with the government's choice of membership for its expert panel; Angus Houston, retired Chief of the Defence Force, Michael L'Estrange, Director of the National Security College at ANU, and Paris Aristotle, a founding Director of the Victorian Foundation for Survivors of Torture and Trauma. That an expert from defence was appointed to chair the panel creates a significant symbolic boundary around the discussion. Two of the three panel members bring expertise in security and defence. By virtue of the panel's membership, the problem of drownings, or solutions to it, are anticipated to require expertise in defence or security. This is not to negate any other skills and experience of panel members; nor to deny defence and security implications in the asylum debate. However Bacchi (1989) has argued that problem representation in policy - the likes of this panel's terms of reference - contains an implicit diagnosis of the solution. As Marston (2004: 93) puts it, 'The rationale for . . . reforms is constructed retrospectively to suit predetermined solutions, while at the same time contributing to the symbolic power of the State Government - a competent body of decision makers tackling hard . . . problems'.   I want to suggest that the Expert Panel's terms of reference and its membership imply a heavily bounded solution; and indeed, a solution consistent with government's previous penchant for deterrence.

In considering the panel's description as 'expert', it is also useful to examine who or what was absent from its membership and/or its radar. If some correlation can be drawn between panel membership and outcomes, then the 'solution' to drownings was certainly not envisaged in terms of human rights practice, international law, or other pivotal areas of practice in the refugee field. For example, it would surely make sense to have included a human rights legal expert, given recent success of the High Court challenge to the Malaysia solution. The panel could also arguably have benefited from a candidate with knowledge and expertise of the push and pull factors in asylum. Or one with operational and political experience drawn from working in refugee camps. Here I am not making specific recommendations as to omissions; rather it is noteworthy to reflect on the symbolic and, ultimately, the political power of those omissions.

Presumably because it found areas of expertise or evidence unavailable to it, the panel recommended that 'that the incompleteness of the current evidence base on asylum issues be addressed through a well-managed and adequately funded research program engaging government and non-government expertise' (Rec 22). Funding for more comprehensive research is of course a welcome finding. However there has been little recognition from government or the panel of an already existing body of knowledge. Experts on refugee matters from the academy and from the community sector have worked hard to share their findings in respected journals and various popular and online media. It would be fair to suggest that the settlement services sector has increasingly been influenced by, and availed itself, of research and research practitioners. The Conversation recently advertised an initiative to collate relevant refugee research in a database.  It is thus of concern that in assessing the relative influence of 'push' and 'pull' factors in asylum, the expert panel described its approach as 'more a matter of judgment than science'. All policy is premised on judgment, some moreso than others . However in a mature democracy one would hope that, amongst other sources of information, politicians would turn to their institutions of research and knowledge from which to garner evidence to inform their decisions. Not so where boat arrivals are at issue.

Recent governments have demonstrated an antipathy toward research from the sector where it conflicts with policy frameworks. I call this the 'Galileo effect'; that is, relevant research has at times been ignored, dismissed, or maligned when it does not conform with the hegemony of government policy. Take, for example, the work of Louise Newman, now Professor of Developmental Psychiatry and Director of the Monash University Centre for Developmental Psychiatry & Psychology. Professor Newman has spoken publicly about the pressure placed on her, and her colleagues, following their research into the negative mental health impacts of detention on asylum seekers (see for example Steel, ZP, Mares, S, Newman, L, Blick, B & Dudley, MJ, 2004) . Colleagues warned Newman that her field of study was the equivalent of career suicide. Her credibility and her methods of research were attacked during the term of the Howard government in a bid to undermine her findings. As Newman explained it, she was simply following the evidence; but, as Gore puts it, hers was an inconvenient truth. Consecutive governments have enthusiastically propagated disparaging representations of asylum seekers before seeking the facts or evidence (Riemer 2012). Throwing children into the water was a 'fact' until an inquiry drawing on meticulous research documented evidence to the contrary; although not until after Howard's re-election. Only this week there have been more unsubstantiated reports of aberrant asylum seeker behaviour. The inaccurate allegations were refuted and corrected  by the captain of the relevant vessel. It would seem that only certain types of expertise are desirable where asylum seekers are concerned and sometimes, none at all.

Most regrettably, the voices of refugees are relatively absent from this debate, despite its serious implications for their lives (and possible deaths); both government and the sector must continue to meet the challenge of self reflection and reform in decision making practices which exclude the very people for whom they are acting 'in best interests'. Why was there not a former refugee on the panel? (Gillard has repeatedly referred to Aristotle as a refugee when he is not). Or one might ask a woman, given that most refugees globally are women and their children? Whose experience counts in the government's decision making process?

How else did expertise figure in this panel's decision making? We know that the panel received over 300 submissions from individuals and organisations, many of whom have significant experience and expertise in the refugee sector. A list of those consulted by the panel is included in the appendices. Much of this expertise arises from individuals and organisations who have direct engagement with refugee communities; people working at the coal face with individuals and families who, over the past fifteen years, have been living with the consequences of the prevailing 'solutions' of deterrence. An evidence base that arises from case management provides a chilling picture of the very human effects of policy making; such specific knowledge was of course also vested with the third member of the panel, Mr Paris Aristotle. The pivotal and vanguard services of Foundation House, which address the mental health needs of refugees, are a continuing legacy of Mr Aristotle's contribution to the sector. Given his experience, Mr Aristotle was much sought after by the media  following delivery of the panel's controversial recommendations.

Despite his credentials, it would be inaccurate to suggest that Mr Aristotle's voice on the panel represented the preponderance of views from the sector. This is not to attack his motives, nor the drivers for his decision making (Gordon 2012). However the recommendations articulated in key refugee and human rights sector submissions (see for example ASRC, RILC, HRLC, RAN, etc) stand in stark contrast to the overwhelming number of panel recommendations; recommendations defended by Mr Aristotle. The absence of a submission to the panel from Foundation House, a key and long established refugee service provider, is also noteworthy. There could be no conflict of interest in such a submission, given the public nature of Aristotle's foundation role and directorship, and his being only one of a three member panel; although any contribution by Foundation House was unlikely to have materially affected the already bounded nature of the debate. The policy of deterrence was extended.

Appointment of the 'Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers' has proved a useful springboard from which to consider the issue of expertise and evidence in the asylum debate. Gillard's application of the term 'expert' to her panel was likely intended to convey a sense of 'competent' government tackling the 'hard problem' of boat people (Marston 2004); however the panel's regard for the current evidence base is unclear. It may well be that a greater body of evidence around refugee issues is required, for example in relation to refugee flows; however the evidence base around the affects of detention, for example, is already clear and compelling (APS 2012, AHRC 2012). One might be forgiven for thinking that the government tends to overlook expertise that does not suit its policy preferences (Riemer 2012). In the case of the Expert Panel, government has structured a process likely to deliver a solution of its anticipation; because frankly, to frame an inquiry in relation to preventing boat journeys, and then to resource it primarily with a defence and security expert, is to imply the solution to the problem (Bacchi 1999). Gillard may have appointed a panel with expertise, but its recommendations, by and large, did not reflect expert views from the sector.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Seeing the light: Ethics and evidence in the asylum debate


Australia's mistrust of its politicians is a common subject of media reporting. Voters are sick of 'spin' and want to hear something 'real' from candidates. They frown upon the language of 'non core promises' and the prevalence of political backflips (Howard with a GST, Abbott with Medicare, Gillard with the Carbon Tax). Abbott  in particular is criticised for his entrenched and transparent politics of opposition while Gillard is reportedly unpopular for hiding her 'true' self. Such commentary places a spotlight on the question of ethics in politics. If ethical political behaviour exists, which I like to think that it does, then what does it look like? It may be impossible to identify when particular political acts achieve objectives of power as well as being 'the right thing to do'; however it is possible to observe situations in which politicians make choices of conscience or courage despite potentially negative consequences. The asylum seeker debate includes many such acts of courage. Yet the public and media's willingness to recognise such acts is less common.

In 2005, the 'band of four' - Petro Georgiou, Judy Moylan, Russell Broadbent, and Bruce Baird of the Liberal party - put their political careers at risk by opposing the Howard government's proposed changes to the Migration Act, largely because children were to be detained. The detention of children contravenes a number of Australia's obligations under international Conventions and is, quite frankly, a morally repugnant proposition. There is a significant evidence base to illustrate the appalling mental harms detention does to asylum seekers. However such laws were being introduced in the peak of fever about 'illegal arrivals', 'queue jumpers', the necessity to protect our borders, and a fear about the saturation of the country by 'floods' of asylum seekers. A deeper colonial, and racist discourse underpinned government commentary, as Downer branded one group of boat arrivals who were summarily accused of throwing their children into the water 'uncivilised'. Much has since been written about Howard government language in the asylum debate, the misinformation it propagated (there are no 'queues' for refugees in many countries, it is never 'illegal' to genuinely claim asylum no matter the method of arrival), and the way in which that language was manipulated to drive public fear. 

In the face of this public and political pressure, the gang of four put their careers on the line and held out against the proposed Migration Act measures. As Broadbent commented, 'If I am to die politically because of my stance on this bill, it is better to die on my feet than to live on my knees'. Moylan added, 'I cannot believe that the citizens of this sovereign country would ever cease to wonder, nor would they ever forgive, were we in this house to acquiesce in silence to pressure from a neighbour on a matter so much at the heart of our principles of justice.' 'I for one cannot remain silent.' Much of the media - and the public - recognised the innate ethics in these acts. So ethical did I consider Georgiou's leadership that I wrote him a letter thanking him for his stand against the incarceration of children and other innocent people.

Rudd's election also enabled a range of changes to harmful areas of refugee legislation. Any worker in the refugee movement will attest to the destructive nature of Temporary Protection Visas, which keep family members apart and require re-qualification for refugee status three years later. Bridging visas deny work and social security rights, effectively ensuring mental and physical impoverishment for their recipients. Gillard's controversial elevation to the leadership transpired on the back of alleged policy failings by Rudd. Asylum was a core point of difference. But the Gillard government was faced with a conundrum; how to appear more 'tough' and 'practical' on asylum than Rudd, without engaging in the nasty rhetoric of the Howard era. After the horrific drowning of a boat of asylum seekers on 15 December 2010, government discourse on asylum seekers shifted from its previous focus on border protection to a new focus on the undesirability of drownings. Harsh measures were now explained in terms of their necessity to prevent drownings. Who could disagree with such an imperative? A survey of media coverage in the ten years before this time, including the sinking of the SIEV X, frankly reveals no such pervasive concern for drowning on either side of politics. The new concern may have been real; but its manipulation as a tool of rhetoric to achieve expedient political ends has been abhorrent and intractable.

Predictably the solution to 'drownings' happened to include the same harsh methods proposed by Howard to protect borders, punish and deter queue jumpers, and dissuade 'uncivilised' people from coming to our shores. There was little or no evidence to support the effectiveness of these measures. Further, the new discourse was even more effective in marginalising those who opposed the harsh measures; political 'idealism' was now cast as the catalyst for drownings. Consideration of alternative solutions to a range of asylum issues was effectively shut down. The debate had been completely reframed; it was reoriented to consider only which of the harsh measures would bring about the end of drownings. Those suggesting boat re-direction or offshore processing were characterised as 'doing something' about the drownings. Labor proposed the Malaysia solution and a frenzy around asylum seeking was re-invigorated.  The Liberals admonished the Malaysia solution, citing concerns that Malaysia was not a signatory to the Refugee Convention. The Liberals' sudden concern for the Convention smacked of political opportunism; Nauru had not been a Convention signatory during the Howard era. Abbott's about face suggested a desire to beat Gillard at any cost. Labor refused to support the Nauru solution. 

In a recent environment of more drownings Gillard forced another parliamentary vote on offshore processing. Readers of mainstream papers were 'educated' about the Liberal and Labor options. Rob Oakshott was represented as the voice of compromise and reason because his proposal enabled redirection to both Nauru and Malaysia. Importantly, criticisms of all parties to this debate centred on their lack of preparedness to endorse at least one of the harsh, offshore measures; that is, any action was said to be better than no action at all. The Greens opposed 'offshore processing', questioning its evidence base and raising concerns about Australia's commitment to its various Convention obligations. In tandem with a range of organisations that work intimately with asylum seekers, the Greens challenged the way in which asylum problems were being framed. For example, academic and empirical research has contested assertions that Australia is being 'flooded' by refugees or that offshore processing will guarantee reduced drownings. In particular, the Greens questioned the ethics of applying harsher punishments to groups of people who were already suffering and in distress; they drew on the evidence of academics and NGOs working with asylum seekers to argue that no amount of incarceration or threat would deter asylum seekers who felt desperate. The problem, they argued, needed to be understood and tackled differently.

The Greens' position was not generally popular with the press; the party was accused of blocking a solution to the drownings. Enormous pressure was brought to bear on Bandt and Hanson-Young during that week in parliament. They faced serious, sustained, and harsh 'analysis' from the media and were accused of putting abstract 'human rights' over the loss of 'real human lives'. The Labor party's Sam Dastayari went so far as to claim The Greens were 'bordering on loony', while Paul Howes labelled them 'extremists who threaten our democracy'. Such hyperbolic language was notably absent when Labor struck a deal with the Greens to form government; its emergence during a debate about people who were drowning was utterly distasteful.

The extremity of these reactions is worthy of reflection. The Liberal gang of four had proposed 'softer' asylum measures and even stood up to their own party. The reaction to their positions was mixed, however it did not attract the accusations of idealistic self indulgence or political ineffectiveness that the Greens did. In the current offshore debate, I am reminded of a scene from Aaron Sorkin's 'The American President', in which a young aide is upset at the incumbent (Democratic) president for not speaking out against the poison and vitriol of an opposition Republican candidate. The dialogue goes as follows:

Presidential Aide: You have a deeper love of this country than any man I've ever known. And I want to know what it says to you that in the past seven weeks, 59% of Americans have begun to question your patriotism.
President Andrew Shepherd: Look, if the people want to listen to-...
Presidential Aide: They don't have a choice! Bob Rumson (Republican candidate) is the only one doing the talking! People want leadership, Mr. President, and in the absence of genuine leadership, they'll listen to anyone who steps up to the microphone. They want leadership. They're so thirsty for it they'll crawl through the desert toward a mirage, and when they discover there's no water, they'll drink the sand.
President Andrew Shepherd: Lewis, we've had presidents who were beloved, who couldn't find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flashlight. People don't drink the sand because they're thirsty. They drink the sand because they don't know the difference.

I fear that the current debate on asylum seekers has cultivated a population of sand drinkers. People may be looking for ethical leadership in politics and, in particular, in the asylum debate - but will they know it if they see it? I agree with Adam Bandt that many voters (and opposition Parliamentarians) come to the asylum debate with a genuine concern for refugees who are drowning. However both media and the voting public appear to have accepted without question the proposition that any kind of policy which includes offshore processing is better than no policy at all. This seems ethically repugnant to me; what if the 'any' solution proposed is at best ineffective and at worst harmful?  Is it at all possible that NGO and academic experts working with asylum seekers might be right; that offshore processing and boat redirection will likely only hurt already injured people, and result in no fewer drownings? These experts also ask a valid and insightful question about the shaping of the debate - is the prevention of drownings the same problem as the prevention of refugees reaching our shores? If the concern is to prevent drownings, then why are we forbidden from discussing, considering, or exploring policy alternatives that do not also facilitate the deterrence of refugees?

Perhaps the Greens get some political mileage from their asylum stance. Perhaps envious Labor party members consider that the Greens are in the 'luxurious' position of being able to act on principle because they don't have the realistic problem of having to hang onto power. Even if the Greens' efforts might be framed in terms of political expedience, it nonetheless strikes me as astounding that most political analysis did not seem to contemplate an ethical or courageous dimension to their actions. Rather than being characterised as the 'block' to 'some' or 'any' kind of outcome, why were they not applauded for having the tenacity to stand up for a principled, human rights position in the face of overwhelming criticism from the major parties. As the classic quote (commonly attributed to Burke) proposes, 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing'. The boat issue has been a long and protracted one in Australia, and its use as fodder by political parties desperate for re-election has been extensively researched, documented, and analysed. It is indeed disconcerting that while Australian voters complain about the dearth of ethical politicians and desert of ethical politics, they are so easily prepared to drink from the sand of a leadership which colludes on the harsh treatment of asylum seekers to ensure political survival. One would think that those with a thirst for some idealism or ethics in politics would be heartened by a group of mostly young politicians in the Greens who have taken the courageous step of placing their consciences and the lives of people who are without voice, without family, and without country, ahead of a deeply flawed mainstream policy.