Inequality
is not new to Australia. Our history is laden with the long and violent
act of dispossession, of forcefully taking members of the First Nations
from their homes, introducing massive inequalities in rights, in life
expectancy, in happiness, in hope. Sacred places were trampled, lives
destroyed, cultures and languages crushed, families scattered.
The violence of patriarchy has cut the same dismal highway through our history as that of colonisation. As First Nations peoples continue to be subjected to the ongoing violence of colonisation, women continue to be subjected to the ongoing violence of patriarchy.
Thus was the historical reality into which the white masculinist myth of Australian egalitarianism was born.
Class inequality is not a recent phenomenon either. It certainly wasn’t invented by those who bear its brunt, no matter how zealously it is denied or papered over by its historical beneficiaries.
The recent report of a 9% jump in the number of people forced to work a second job, for example, will no doubt be celebrated by the inequality apologists. “A triumph of the rule of choice”, they will cry. “The market working its magic when government gets out of the way”.
What this, and indicators in income, wealth, housing, education
resources, health and wellbeing, point to, is a trend towards worsening
inequality in the post war period.
Everyone deserves a fair crack at happiness. In prosperous Australia, however, instead of judiciously ensuring that no one is left out we are witnessing a growing sense of inequality, not only in incomes, but in all the elements that go towards enjoying a decent quality of life, what used to be called, without any mischievous negativity, welfare.
In the neoliberal frame, government might talk a lot about getting out of the way, to justify the abrogation of its responsibility to ensure the welfare of all of the people it is meant to govern for. In reality though, the neoliberal agenda means government isn’t simply abandoning the schoolyard; it’s arming the bullies with sticks and instructing their victims to stand still for the tormentors.
The prime minster is fond of reframing rising inequality with his courageous embrace of “volatility and change”. It is, of course, easy to embrace this if you have a significant financial buffer, but if you are unemployed or precariously employed and precariously housed, it is easy neither to be gung-ho about insecurity or dismissive of inequality, as it would seem the treasurer, Scott Morrison, is.
Alan Tudge, the human services minister, is currently providing excellent backing vocals to this song by crooning that that we don’t even really have a poverty problem and that social expenditure would only make it worse if we did. This is fondly reminiscent of when the then health minister Tony Abbott in 2007 dismissed poverty as a bad choice:
We can learn a lot from history, unless of course we wish to be condemned to repeating it. Given the current debate about inequality, it is useful to track the repetitions of old narratives.
After the 2014 budget, which made an art form out of both inequality and viciousness to the young unemployed, then treasurer Joe Hockey dismissed the criticism by alleging that it was “political in nature and has drifted to 1970s class warfare lines, claiming the budget is ‘unfair’ or that the ‘rich don’t contribute enough’”. He continued: “I would argue that the comments about inequality in Australia are largely misguided, both from an historical perspective, and from the perspective of the budget.”
His narrative, which the current government has been reverentially faithful to, tells us a lot about the current debate on inequality. Hockey was right that the criticism of inequality is political. It is. Because inequality itself is political. It is a political choice, not an economic inevitability.
It is a political choice, which successive governments from both sides, have made, that has seen a failure to lift the unemployment payment in real terms since 1994.
It is political choice, through subsidies and tax concessions, to allow housing to become a speculative sport instead of a human right.
It is a political choice to fight for tax cuts for corporations and high-wealth individuals while pretending the economic inevitability of penalty rate cuts, effective pay cuts through heightened workplace insecurity, and cuts to social security and social supports.
The feminist movement teaches us that the personal is political. It is therefore also a deeply personal, while political, choice to take a collective stand against inequality.
While the inequality deniers are falling over themselves in a rush to stamp out any serious reflection on why inequality has grown over the post-war period, and what measures were actually successful in arresting this growth, perhaps we should spare a moment to reflect on what we are failing to learn from history if we silence this discussion, and, even more urgently, what we stand to lose as a society while measures are rolled out to boost inequality in this present moment of history.
Warren Buffett once said: “There’s class warfare alright, but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war, and we’re winning.” He was right about the war on ordinary people. We at the St Vincent de Paul Society see the results of this every day in the lives of the people who are forced to carry the burden of inequality as wages and social security payments are undermined and social expenditure is cut to make way for generous “welfare” handouts to those who already have much.
But for those of us in the movement for social justice and social change, we who are driven by hope and who cannot afford to indulge in the luxury of despair; we take issue with Buffett’s description of who is winning. When ordinary people are under attack, whether they are struggling to make ends meet with inadequate wages or with inadequate income support, the whole of society suffers. Inequality is bad for all of us. It grinds us down, denudes us our common humanity. But no matter how long it takes to defeat it, we will win.
The violence of patriarchy has cut the same dismal highway through our history as that of colonisation. As First Nations peoples continue to be subjected to the ongoing violence of colonisation, women continue to be subjected to the ongoing violence of patriarchy.
Thus was the historical reality into which the white masculinist myth of Australian egalitarianism was born.
Class inequality is not a recent phenomenon either. It certainly wasn’t invented by those who bear its brunt, no matter how zealously it is denied or papered over by its historical beneficiaries.
The recent report of a 9% jump in the number of people forced to work a second job, for example, will no doubt be celebrated by the inequality apologists. “A triumph of the rule of choice”, they will cry. “The market working its magic when government gets out of the way”.
Everyone deserves a fair crack at happiness. In prosperous Australia, however, instead of judiciously ensuring that no one is left out we are witnessing a growing sense of inequality, not only in incomes, but in all the elements that go towards enjoying a decent quality of life, what used to be called, without any mischievous negativity, welfare.
In the neoliberal frame, government might talk a lot about getting out of the way, to justify the abrogation of its responsibility to ensure the welfare of all of the people it is meant to govern for. In reality though, the neoliberal agenda means government isn’t simply abandoning the schoolyard; it’s arming the bullies with sticks and instructing their victims to stand still for the tormentors.
The prime minster is fond of reframing rising inequality with his courageous embrace of “volatility and change”. It is, of course, easy to embrace this if you have a significant financial buffer, but if you are unemployed or precariously employed and precariously housed, it is easy neither to be gung-ho about insecurity or dismissive of inequality, as it would seem the treasurer, Scott Morrison, is.
Alan Tudge, the human services minister, is currently providing excellent backing vocals to this song by crooning that that we don’t even really have a poverty problem and that social expenditure would only make it worse if we did. This is fondly reminiscent of when the then health minister Tony Abbott in 2007 dismissed poverty as a bad choice:
Later, as prime minister, Abbott intoned the scripture that “the poor will always be with us” and therefore everything from homelessness to dispossession caused by colonisation was a “lifestyle choice”.… it doesn’t matter how fair our society is, in terms of its political arrangements or its economic arrangements, there are always going to be some people that do it tough because of unfortunate personal choices, or because of what might be described as acts of God.
We can learn a lot from history, unless of course we wish to be condemned to repeating it. Given the current debate about inequality, it is useful to track the repetitions of old narratives.
After the 2014 budget, which made an art form out of both inequality and viciousness to the young unemployed, then treasurer Joe Hockey dismissed the criticism by alleging that it was “political in nature and has drifted to 1970s class warfare lines, claiming the budget is ‘unfair’ or that the ‘rich don’t contribute enough’”. He continued: “I would argue that the comments about inequality in Australia are largely misguided, both from an historical perspective, and from the perspective of the budget.”
His narrative, which the current government has been reverentially faithful to, tells us a lot about the current debate on inequality. Hockey was right that the criticism of inequality is political. It is. Because inequality itself is political. It is a political choice, not an economic inevitability.
It is a political choice, which successive governments from both sides, have made, that has seen a failure to lift the unemployment payment in real terms since 1994.
It is political choice, through subsidies and tax concessions, to allow housing to become a speculative sport instead of a human right.
It is a political choice to fight for tax cuts for corporations and high-wealth individuals while pretending the economic inevitability of penalty rate cuts, effective pay cuts through heightened workplace insecurity, and cuts to social security and social supports.
The feminist movement teaches us that the personal is political. It is therefore also a deeply personal, while political, choice to take a collective stand against inequality.
While the inequality deniers are falling over themselves in a rush to stamp out any serious reflection on why inequality has grown over the post-war period, and what measures were actually successful in arresting this growth, perhaps we should spare a moment to reflect on what we are failing to learn from history if we silence this discussion, and, even more urgently, what we stand to lose as a society while measures are rolled out to boost inequality in this present moment of history.
Warren Buffett once said: “There’s class warfare alright, but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war, and we’re winning.” He was right about the war on ordinary people. We at the St Vincent de Paul Society see the results of this every day in the lives of the people who are forced to carry the burden of inequality as wages and social security payments are undermined and social expenditure is cut to make way for generous “welfare” handouts to those who already have much.
But for those of us in the movement for social justice and social change, we who are driven by hope and who cannot afford to indulge in the luxury of despair; we take issue with Buffett’s description of who is winning. When ordinary people are under attack, whether they are struggling to make ends meet with inadequate wages or with inadequate income support, the whole of society suffers. Inequality is bad for all of us. It grinds us down, denudes us our common humanity. But no matter how long it takes to defeat it, we will win.
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