JUST like the rest of us, Members of Parliament have to question how they come to conclusions about the world and people around them.
It requires judgment to assess the degree of proof needed before coming to a conclusion and it requires character and courage to admit when you are wrong.
The process arose yet again with the two main political issues of the week: climate-change legislation and the question of whether anyone got special treatment under the Government’s plan to help car dealers.
Of course, the conclusions politicians draw are more important than most because they affect us all. Therefore, it is more important they apply greater diligence to get them right.
The more consequential the conclusion, the more diligence required. That does not mean endless agonizing because part of diligence is to come to a conclusion within a reasonable time.
So this week some of our politicians made conclusions about perhaps two of the most important decisions they could make: whether the country should change its leadership and whether Australia should start contributing to do something to save the planet from the consequences of humans putting too much carbon into the atmosphere.
They failed on both counts.
I suppose it is easy to boo from the sidelines, but the politicians are not alone in having to draw conclusions. And not alone in sometimes getting it wrong. Doctors have diagnose. Juries have to decide guilt. Journalists have to decide whether to publish. Professionals have to decide on clients’ courses of action. Police have to conclude whether to act on their suspicions.
You cannot expect them to get it right all the time, but when they get it wrong it is fair to ask how and why. Decision makers can behave diligently and reasonably and still get it wrong – a correct decision that turns out to be wrong. A good example is the prosecution of Lindy Chamberlain.
Was Opposition Leader Malcolm Turnbull’s decision to call for the resignation of the Prime Minister in that class — a correct call that turned out to be wrong. In other words, we should remove the advantage of hindsight before judging his action.
We can well ask: how on earth was he expected to know that the email asserting the Prime Minister was urging special treatment for a mate was a fake?
Good question, because it provides the answer to a test of judgment.
Turnbull was coming to a high-consequence conclusion: that the nation should have a new leader. It was not whether to support or oppose some low-level legislation. So the decision required high-level diligence.
Without the benefit of hindsight, the diligence was lacking, even for a lower level of conclusion drawing.
In publishing, for example, editors have to draw conclusions.
Most editors apply a “what if” test whenever a breathless reporter had an exclusive story alleging malfeasance on the part of a politician, company director, public servant or average foot slogger.
It is no guarantee of immunity from defamation actions because so often defamation threats arise from articles way back in the paper to which the test was never applied.
But for big-ticket politics or business stories the what-if test works, provided deadline or staffing pressures do not short-cut it.
The “what-if” test is to ask the simple question: what if the people about whom this story reflects badly say it is false?
What would have happened if Turnbull had applied this test? Easy. If Prime Minister Kevin Rudd asserted it was all false, all Turnbull would have to do is wave the email from his office to the Treasury and he would have Rudd nailed.
That is what an editor would say to a reporter: let’s have a look at this email and what it says to see if it supports the conclusion.
“Oh, you haven’t got a copy of the email,” the editor would say. “Well, we better get a copy before we publish.”
Because the editor would know that in any subsequent defamation action, that is the minimum a court would require.
Turnbull never had the email. Now, Turnbull has been both a journalist and a lawyer, so the test is not unreasonable. He could, of course, have drawn a lower-level conclusion: that the hearsay about such an email required answers from the Prime Minister. Not as dramatic, but far more supportable.
So we can see how the blunder was made and question the judgment of those who made it. That leaves the question of why was the wrong, higher-level conclusion drawn? — pure political advantage.
Having made a poor decision poorly, then comes the text of character.
Usually, one would expect an apology. That is what people defamed by the media demand, as well as pots of money in damages.
It is similar with climate change. The Opposition and Senator Fielding are showing a lack of judgment on assessing the risk. So, too, incidentally, should public companies who have a duty to shareholders to assess risk.
We have had any number of fossil-fuel dependant companies whinge about carbon pricing and the affect on their profits, but few appear to be assessing the risk of inaction which might have an even greater affect on their assets. Has Qantas assessed the risk to its assets of Mascot going under water, for example.
It has been a poor time for rational decision-making in Australia.
We really have to hope Opposition decision-making improves, particularly that of its leader because he is an obviously talented man, but more importantly, absent Peter Costello, the Opposition, heaven help us, does not appear to have anyone to take his place if he continues to stumble.