Hazzards of entertaining the masses, one presser at a time

Pity the lot of our public administrators in these difficult times.

Governments are imperfect organs and they will make mistakes. Not, it must be said, with poor intentions. At the federal level, it’s difficult to find fault.

Paul Keating once referred almost apologetically to state MPs as low calibre, .22 pop guns when something with a little more kick is needed to get the job done. The states and territories have been reasonably good overall through these early days of the pandemic with one notable exception: the New South Wales government which has been a showcase of bad performative art like they’ve been running around trying catch the virus by waving a plastic resealable bag around in the air.

The casual air in which the NSW government waved through four cruise ships into Circular Quay, allowing infected passengers loose on the populace might be seen as a sort of typical state balls up except for the fact that just weeks prior, the cruise liner, Diamond Princess, had been locked out at harbour in Yokohama, Japan with Australian passengers having to be evacuated, brought home and placed in quarantine.

I am reasonably sure it made the news at the time.

Having learnt nothing from that episode, the sister ship, the Ruby Princess was permitted to disembark 2700 passengers at Circular Quay on March 19. Of all infection hot spots or points of origin, it accounts for the equal highest number of COVID-19 fatalities with five of its passengers having died.

Four hundred of those on board who disembarked have tested COVID-19 positive accounting for a tick under ten per cent of the total of all recorded cases of COVID-19 in Australia.

The duck shoving on who made the call persists to this day, a crow caw of bickering between NSW and the Feds — the state Department of Health, the federal Department of Agriculture, who have carriage over the Bio-Security Act, and Border Force. The fact remains it was down to NSW Health to pull the pin on that floating virus incubator and three others.

When the ‘Live’ icons disappeared from our sport channels, when the cinemas became no-go areas, when the theatres closed their doors, we were left bereft of entertainment, leaving us to fixate on news services which seem little more than a rolling series of press conferences these days.

Still we may glean some amusement from them if we look hard enough. It’s pretty much all we have left.

Two weeks ago, in one of the more bizarre press conferences in a strong field, New South Wales Health Minister, Brad Hazzard stepped forward to offer something of a mea culpa.

It started badly with Hazzard coughing into his hand and then, perhaps understanding his COVID-19 faux pas, coughed again into his bent elbow. But moments later he was giving his face a massage, rubbing his eyes and running a finger dangerously close to his left nostril before clearing his throat and taking care of business.

“If I had my opportunity to have my two bob’s worth, with the benefit of what we now know about those … people I’d have said yeah, maybe we should hold them on the ship,” the ironically named minister said.

Yeah, maybe?

Look, it’s bad, Brad. Your department has unleashed a virulent epidemic on an unsuspecting population but don’t beat yourself up about it. That’s why they put erasers on pencils.

If you were bemused by Hazzard’s performance, it was followed just minutes later by something even more jaw dropping, starring NSW Police and Emergency Services Minister, David Elliott, the Minister who decided Paris was a much nicer place to be at Christmas time than the inferno in southern New South Wales. Remember him?

A week later, he slunk back into the country and resumed his duties as if nothing had happened. Regrets, he had a few but then again, too few to mention.

The presser featured Elliott and Assistant Commissioner of NSW Police, Karen Webb and another official whose name I didn’t catch but was probably dragged in to make up the numbers for a human rose between two thorns mis en scène.

Elliott and Webb harrumphed about people failing to heed the message of social distancing which might have been a timely and useful public announcement except for the fact they did so while standing shoulder to shoulder presumably to give the media a nice, tight shot for the evening news.

Having infected not just the state but the country with nary a peep into the rear-view mirror, the NSW government moved on to set about punishing the people of New South Wales on the off chance they might spread the infection they themselves had kicked off.

While Victoria and Queensland had earlier prescribed on-the-spot fines of a gorilla and change to scofflaws thumbing their noses at lockdowns, the Premier State aimed for the more Himalayan peaks of draconian sanctions with maximum penalties of an 11 grand fine and/or six months in the clink.

That’s right. If you’re not social distancing they’re going to bang you up in a tiny bathroom with a man bearing some lovely facial tattoos that really make you think who will make social distancing problematic at best.

I pity the states who don’t have a David Elliott or a Brad Hazzard. In New South Wales, if we didn’t have a David Elliott or a Brad Hazzard, we’d have to create them for entertainment value alone. But is there enough of them to go around?

This column was first published in The Australian on 3 April, 2020