Appearing in Australian Spectator, 21 April 2018
Hinch vs Canberra: Behind the Human Headlines
By Derryn Hinch
Melbourne University Press, $25, 210 pages, ISBN 9780522873177
Silent Invasion: China’s Influence in Australia
By Clive Hamilton
Hardie Grant, $33, 356 pages, ISBN 9781743794807
Ah, populism: is it a fulsome democratic expression of giving people what they want or merely join-the-dots fear-mongering? Bit of both, judging from these two books.
Derryn Hinch has certainly chased enough ambulances in his day, through various forms of media. His face and name were, at least, well enough known for him to win a Senate place at the last election, helped along by the complex arithmetic of preferences. He isn’t the strangest person to sit on the red benches but he is probably in the top ten.
Hinch vs Canberra is a diary of his first year in the Senate, and as these things go it is an interesting read. He was not exactly a political novice: in his career he has observed many figures and issues close-up. His personal trajectory has also been wild: he ran completely out of money at one point, has struggled with booze, and has spent time in jail, mainly for contempt after naming accused paedophiles. It is certainly a different profile to the lawyers and political operators that dominate the parliamentary numbers.
His war on paedophiles is a constant theme running through his career, and he counts getting a ban on passports for convicted paedophiles as a major achievement. Hard to argue with it, and it is not the sort of issue that the big parties would take up without a hard push.
On other issues, however, Hinch is all over the place. He talks about the need to give ordinary people a voice but opposed the plebiscite on same-sex marriage. He chides the Turnbull government for not sticking to principles but is quite happy to block them when they try to do so. He accepts the concept of a government mandate but only on those issues he agrees with. And so on. At least he is consistent in his inconsistency. He must be very difficult to negotiate with, simply because it is never clear what he really wants.
Something that comes through in the book is how much the dual-citizenship saga dominated the parliamentary year. He was one of the first to be investigated, as he was born in New Zealand. But he had lodged the required forms; he argues that if he could do it everyone else should have been able to, too. This might be simplifying things a bit, especially in those cases where people unknowingly inherited foreign citizenship through a parent. But there was enough foolishness and hypocrisy to go around, and the issue continues to simmer.
Hinch says he was surprised that being a senator is, well, so much work. It looks much easier from the outside: you don’t see the endless mountain of paperwork and the grinding labour of committee hearings. And no matter what you do you cop a torrent of abuse, especially through social media. The CFMEU in particular has an army of trolls that poured out the invective and threats over the ABCC vote. Hinch is pretty good at brushing it off but for newcomers less experienced with vilification it must be a real trial.
Along the way, he provides some clever sketches of those he encountered. He sees Turnbull as personally genuine and honest. He is lukewarm on Shorten but likes his wife. Mathias Corman, with whom he regularly dealt, is pragmatic and straightforward. The Greens are a mixed bag, united mainly in their tendency to take a good idea and run too far with it. His disdain for Pauline Hanson is exceeded only by his dislike for Gillian Triggs, with whom he traded barbs in committee hearings over 18C.
It must be said that Hinch has a streak of nastiness to him. His constant referral to Joyce as Barnyard Barnaby is merely childish, and sometimes he seems to make trouble for the sake of it. His inclination to refer to himself in the third person becomes grating after a while. Nevertheless, Hinch seems to give the taxpayers their money’s worth, which is more than can be said for many others.
If Hinch is the headline-grabbing sort of populist, left-wing academic Clive Hamilton is more inclined towards the conspiracy theory side of things. Silent Invasion has a roundabout history: Hamilton says that the initial publisher pulled the plug on the book because “they were afraid of retaliation from Beijing”. This comment sets the tone for the book: the tentacles of the Chinese enemy are everywhere, he says.
Yes, Hamilton has some interesting points to make. The hard men who lead the Chinese
Communist Party have a very racist view of the world, and see interference in other countries as entirely justified. Yes, there have been donations by Chinese people in Australia, linked to the CCP, to political parties. Yes, the CCP is a thoroughly nasty in the way it operates. Yes, there are Chinese in Australia, mainly students but also a few others, whose loyalty is towards China rather than Australia.
But none of this is new, and whether it amounts to an “invasion” is another question. Stitching together selected quotes and comments does not make a case, especially when successive Australian governments have treated Chinese assertions, such as the claim to the South China Sea, for example, with disdain. But Hamilton marches onwards, even going so far as to say that “China is using fake history to position itself to make a future claim over Australia”. Presumably, Hamilton is meaning scare us, but it just sounds a bit silly.
Is this what the Left has come to? A sort of paranoid quasi-nationalism? Apparently so. It is a pity, because some of these matters deserve serious treatment. They do not find it here.
Most people don’t think about taxes much but Chapman, Director of Tax Communications with H&R Block Australia, obviously does. His aim here is to simplify a complex field by examining what taxes apply at different stages of life. This makes a great deal of sense, and Chapman walks through the processes of signing onto the tax system with that first job, as well as the issues of starting up a business. Paying tax is simpler than it used to be but nevertheless there are problems to understand and some benefits that are not immediately obvious. He also takes a look at the emerging sharing economy, with sections for Uber drivers and AirBNB participants.
unanswered. Yes, groups like Black Lives Matter are organised by social media but they only have effect by putting pressure on traditional institutions. Likewise, a number of politicians and companies have proven adept at using social media mechanisms but it is often the case that those mechanisms are controlled by professional operators. Heimans and Timms never quite explain these connections, preferring to focus on the large numbers of people who participate in campaigns. In fact, the book would have been better with fewer case studies and more analysis. It is an interesting ride, and there are plenty of ideas, but it is not as convincing as the authors believe.
The Australian Taxation Office looms large in the lives of many finance professionals but despite its importance it is not particularly well-known. Johnson sets out to remedy this, focusing on the ATO’s dispute resolution procedures, the area in which he mainly worked in the organisation. He notes that the ATO has seen a huge cultural shift in the past two decades, moving from heavy-handed compliance functions towards customer experience. The key factor has been data-matching technology but there has also been a legislative push toward greater transparency and accountability.

The Sentient Machine: The Coming Age of Artificial Intelligence
Haskel and Westlake believe that we do not have the tools to properly measure intangible assets – not, at least, in the way they are currently being used. It is hard to disagree, but they are on less firm ground when they argue that intangible asset valuation cannot be accommodated in the current model. Either way, it is an area that needs more attention. The intangibles revolution, one feels, is just getting started.
Competitive advantage is where you find it, and according to Brideson the best place to locate it is in the burgeoning female market. As a specialist in the field she has advised a host of companies, and draws on her experience for illustrative case studies. Research from McKinsey and Ernst & Young shows that companies that employ more women across the business do better but Brideson argues that this is not sufficient for sustained growth. The key is to understand the female market through detailed research and modelling, preferably designed and interpreted by women.

Finding the centre of Australia is a tricky undertaking but Scott Bevan believes that is on the edge: specifically, Sydney Harbour. In The Harbour (Simon & Schuster) he argues that as the birthplace of white settlement in Australia it has a special place in our collective consciousness. He delves into the history, examining the impact of the harbour on the city’s social development. Bevan, who has written extensively about art, also looks at it as an inspiration for painters and writers. True, on a good day the harbour has a sparkling, translucent quality, and it is no surprise that a view of it bumps up real estate prices by astronomical amounts. Bevan believes in hands-on history, and he makes a point of exploring it by ferry, barge, yacht, and kayak. He finds some odd nooks and crannies, and plenty of colourful characters as well. There are times when he overdoes the ‘true Australia’ angle – plenty of non-Sydneysiders would dispute the claim – but nevertheless The Harbour is a remarkable piece of work.
The obsessive, pack-driven mentality of the media is a crucial point in of one of the best novels of the year, An Isolated Incident by Emily Maguire (Picador). The incident is the murder of a young woman in a country town, sparking a police investigation and a journalistic obsession with the pretty-dead-girl-of-the-hour. The story is told from revolving perspectives, the key one being that of Chris, the older sister of the victim and barmaid of the local pub. Anyone wanting a resolved, happy ending will not find it here, but Maguire has a gift for complex characterisation and an ear for dialogue. Despite the dark subject matter and the gruelling course of the narrative there are surprisingly beautiful passages in the book, lifting it out of the hackneyed crime genre.
But in the end the TADFT gong went to Making Modern Australia: The Whitlam Government’s 21st Century Agenda (Monash University Press), a book of academic essays edited by Jenny Hocking (who has made a pretty good career out of Gough, with a two-volume biography). The basic tenet is that the priorities of the Whitlam government laid the foundation for everything – at least, everything good – that followed, up to now. There are some heavyweight contributors but it seems that no-one stopped to think that the idea was just, well, silly. The Whitlam era was more than four decades ago, so get over it, guys. As much as anything, the book shows that some people have just got way too much time on their hands.
One might often wonder why anyone would want to take on the difficult, demanding role of CEO of a major company. The good news is that the fifty essays presented here, as letters from key thinkers in management and leadership, offer both philosophical guidance and practical advice.
This is the 23rd edition in the Top Stocks series, which surely must qualify for some sort of award. Roth emphasises consistency, analysing ASX-listed companies according to strict criteria over several years, with the study of each company complemented by a useful series of comparative lists and tables.