26 minute read
General news
MeettheChief
Growing up in Canberra as the son of teenage parents, Andrew Barr has been a Member of the ACT Legislative Assembly since 2006 and Chief Minister since 2014. CW publisher Nick Samaras sat down with “the Chief” for a one-on-one chat to learn more about the person behind the big job.
Andrew Barr’s colleagues and staff refer to the Chief Minister as “Chief”. I have met “the Chief” many times, but I had never sat down to get to know the man beyond the public persona.
When I met him in his office recently, I was keen not only to hear about his political career and ambitions, but to explore his formative years, and discover the ideas and influences that shaped the man who, by the end of this Assembly term, stands to become the ACT’s longest-serving Chief Minister.
The key to Mr Barr’s success may be his ability to negotiate and to govern by consensus. In his time as the ACT’s seventh Chief Minister, he has never commanded a majority of factional backing within the Labor party.
“I’ve always had to negotiate, and that means you tend to then be more centrist, to see things from other people’s perspectives; you’ve got to win support for everything,” he said. “You’ve always got to negotiate. That impacts on the political leadership style and approach.”
The numbers show the importance of striking a balance in the government ranks. There are 25 Members of the Legislative Assembly: his government has 10 Labor and six Green MLAs; his cabinet has six Labor and three Green ministers. (The remaining nine MLAs, the Canberra Liberals, form opposition.)
“The responsibility I have is to hold all of that together, to work with a spectrum of politicians from another party, a spectrum of my own. You don’t get to just stamp your foot and be authoritarian…
“By nature, I’m not an ideological zealot, footstamper, tantrum-thrower, authoritarian-type leader. I’ve got strong views on particular things, and my colleagues know when I’m particularly passionate or engaged on an issue that we’re going to talk about it. I’ll try and convince them. But I don’t know if there’s much room in Australian democracy for hard-line and authoritarian.” to Canberra in 1977. He was born in Lismore; his mother was in high school when he was born, his father in his first year of university. They married in December 1973, and he was born the following April.
“The life chances of teenage parents from country NSW in the 1970s weren’t so great,” Mr Barr said.
But Gough Whitlam’s Labor government abolished university fees in 1974, making education free and accessible for many – including Mr Barr’s parents.
“It was ingrained in me by my parents that they wouldn’t have been able to go to university if it hadn’t been for the Whitlam Government; that opportunity opened up the pathway for me and for my younger brother,” he said.
His parents graduated from the University of New England – one doing classes in the morning, the other in the afternoon, taking it in turns to look after the baby – and came to Canberra to work, his father in the Treasury, his mother as a teacher (with a diploma from what is now the University of Canberra).
It is, he says, “a very familiar story – lots of young people came to Canberra for a public service position”.
When they arrived in Canberra, his parents rented in Macgregor, then bought their first place in Flynn. Mr Barr’s school education was a story of two halves, he said. “All of the creative, free-spirited stuff was in primary school.”
Missing the age cut-off for the local primary school, he went to the AME School (now the Steiner School) in Weston, from 1978 to 1984. It was progressive, perhaps 30 or 40 years ahead of its time: education was freeform, based around students’ interests and goals, and students called teachers by their first names.
After a year at Turner Primary in 1985, Mr Barr went to Lyneham High School (1986–89), “then amongst the most conservative high schools in Canberra”.
Its educational policy was based around streaming of students, who were assessed against their known academic ability and put into one
Photo Kerrie Brewer
ACT Chief Minister Andrew Barr: “I very strongly believe in the power of education to change lives.”
of nine classes, from 701 (the Lyneham enriched academic program) at the top to 709 (the learning assistance program) at the bottom – “a very different education philosophy from what I had come out of,” Mr Barr said.
Because he did not have much history in the public system, he was put into 707, “down the nonacademic path”. His mother, a public school teacher, would not stand for that. She had what Mr Barr called “a massive fight” with the school, and he was put in 703, and did “reasonably well” at school.
It was at Lyneham that Mr Barr had his first experience of politics, “probably the first lesson in how you can change things if you are unhappy … there is a democratic process to fix it”. The school had a strict uniform policy, which Mr Barr fell foul of. On a freezing Canberra day, he was sent home from an extracurricular activity (a history lecture, he thinks) because he wore a woollen jumper, rather than the regulation cotton sloppy joe. As a teacher, his mother knew students could not be excluded from education based on what they wore; she took the school to task, and young Andrew was reinstated.
He ran for school captain and the school board on a platform that students should not be excluded from education based on their uniform. He was then in Year 9, aged 14.
People want decisions and outcomes and actions. But that needs to be driven through a model of more consensus than less.
From there he went to Lake Ginninderra College, and then to ANU, where he graduated with a Bachelor of Arts (Policy Studies) in 1995 – economics, economic history, and political science, leavened by philosophy and sociology.
His interest in politics and economics came from his family circle. His father was rising through the ranks of the Treasury when Paul Keating was Treasurer; the Barrs went camping with economist Ken Henry, later Treasury Secretary, and his family; and his parents had Henry and other Treasury economists over for dinner.
Andrew became involved in politics at ANU: he was treasurer of the ANU Students’ Association and on the board of the ANU Union – and joined the Labor party. When he started university, in 1992, Paul Keating – “a little bit of a hero” – had just become Prime Minister, in the December 1991 election.
“The political creature was forming in that environment, but it was fun,” Mr Barr remembered. “I was being intellectually challenged through the academic pathways; you’re in amongst thousands of people your own age.”
Although the Whitlam free tertiary education policy changed his parents’ lives, Mr Barr supported Labor’s reintroducing tertiary fees and establishing the Higher Education Contribution Scheme (HECS) in 1989. As a pragmatist, he believed the deferred tax arrangement would allow even more people to go to university; the money raised was used to expand the number of universities in Australia from 17 to 37.
“Ironically, the now Prime Minister [Anthony Albanese], who’s a little bit older than me, would have taken the opposite view. So, most of my time was disagreeing with the left of the Labor Party over the Higher Education Contribution Scheme.”
Labor changing
Labor, in fact, has changed significantly over the decades, Mr Barr believes. It is socially progressive; it used to be the party of white Australia, and quite homophobic. “It is not anymore, and I’m glad,” Mr Barr said.
He remarks that the party’s economic position has also changed over a century from democratic socialism to a more social democratic position. Its original platform called for “the democratic socialisation of industry, production, distribution, and exchange”; Gareth Evans altered the socialist objective in the early 1980s, inserting the words “to the extent necessary to eliminate exploitation and other anti-social features”.
“Where we are now is somewhat different from elements of the Hawke-Keating period. But mostly, if you asked the party’s critics who are to the left of the party, they’d say it’s still a social-democratic civilizing-capitalism sort of party, as opposed to overthrowing the system … I don’t know that there are many people in the Labor party now who would look to Marxist or Communist values. But equally, not every element of the neoclassical, small-l liberal economic agenda is as embraced as it might have been during the Hawke-Keating period. But a lot of it is just an evolution. The economy has changed. Australia’s position in the world has changed. Australian society has changed. So political parties have to adapt.”
After graduating from ANU, Mr Barr worked for Annette Ellis in Federal Parliament and then-ACT Opposition leader Jon Stanhope before entering the private sector in 1999 as a media analyst and account manager. In 2002, he returned to political life as senior adviser to John Hargreaves MLA, and became his Chief of Staff in 2004 when Hargreaves became minister for transport, territory and municipal services, multicultural affairs, and housing.
In 2004, Mr Barr won preselection on the Labor ticket in the Molonglo electorate, but missed out. He was elected to the Legislative Assembly in 2006 after the resignation of Labor MLA Ted Quinlan, then-Deputy Chief Minister and Treasurer. Mr Barr was re-elected to the seat of Molonglo in 2008 and 2012. After a major redistribution of electoral boundaries, he was elected to the seat of Kurrajong at the 2016 and 2020 elections.
When Jon Stanhope resigned in May 2011, Mr Barr was appointed Deputy Chief Minister in the cabinet of new Chief Minister Katy Gallagher. When she resigned to run for the Senate, Mr Barr was elected Chief Minister, on 11 December 2014. He led ACT Labor to its fifth and sixth consecutive general election wins in 2016 and 2020.
Stresses of the job
Andrew Barr has been in the ACT’s top political job now for eight years – a position with responsibilities that bring their share of stresses and unexpected dilemmas. The two biggest crises of Mr Barr’s chief ministership were the bushfires of 2019/20 and the COVID pandemic.
People, he remarks, had seen a little bit of him by that time: then “I went from the guy who’s on the news a bit a few times a week to every bloody day! I don’t have an education background in firefighting and bushfire management, nor do I in pandemics. So, they both required getting across entirely new issues for me. I’m very comfortable talking about the economy – I have 30 years of that. So, I think it
was good for me to have challenges in areas that you’re not necessarily familiar with. It allows you to grow in the job a bit.”
The sheer diversity of the job is one of the greatest challenges, Mr Barr believes. He gets to dabble in the international space – trade missions to New Zealand, Fiji, and Singapore this year – aided by the diplomatic presence in Canberra.
At a national level, he works with other states and territories (notably, on the pandemic management). He is on the Council of Capital City Lord Mayors, engaging with other major Australian cities. He deals with local matters in Canberra. And as Treasurer, he is involved with ACT and Commonwealth budgets.
A vision for the city
Mr Barr says he wants to transform Canberra from a large country town to a small to medium-sized city, “a bigger, more engaged, better city to live in”.
“Some people won’t agree that’s what we’re creating, but my retort to that is people vote with their feet, and the ACT has been the fastest-growing state or territory for 30 years now. Most of that time, I’ve been the Chief Minister. People can choose to live in a number of different places; many of them are choosing to live here.”
Most of the people he went to school or university with left Canberra, he notes, because it did not offer them either the career, the lifestyle, or the entertainment they wanted; he wants Canberra to be “a place that young people will want to come and live in”.
He is very proud of his administration’s social policy work, such as LGBTI issues (the ACT had the biggest ‘yes’ vote for gay marriage of any jurisdiction) and drug law reform (decriminalising cannabis in 2020, and harder drugs this year).
On the economic side, he points to his tax reforms (some not universally applauded, he admits), such as the switch from stamp duty to land taxes. He wants to deliver city-shaping infrastructure projects. Light rail has been a major defining feature of the past five years, but he is also determined to build the new Canberra Theatre precinct and to redevelop the Canberra stadium. Under him, too, universities have grown.
The two biggest issues coming the ACT’s way in 2023, Mr Barr predicts, are putting in place the voluntary assisted dying scheme – a process that will run through the whole year – and the referendum on the Indigenous voice to parliament towards the end of the year. His goal is for the ACT to once more have the highest ‘yes’ vote in the country.
“These are perhaps more issues in health and social policy, issues that will touch on most people – and most people will have a view on both,” Mr Barr said.
Housing and infrastructure are also priorities for next year.
Photo Kerrie Brewer
Canberra Weekly publisher Nick Samaras sits down with “the Chief”, Andrew Barr, for a wide-ranging conversation about the man behind the title.
Future plans
There are fewer than 700 days until the next ACT election; Mr Barr intends to stand again.
“The last few years have felt a lot like most things have had to be on pause,” he said.
Due to COVID and a difficult relationship with the Morrison Government, he had not been able to make the progress he wanted to make on his party’s commitments, or on issues that inspired him to be
in politics. The change in federal government has made things easier.
Mr Barr knows he is in the second half of his career. “I will not still be chief minister after 25 or 30 years.” But he does not intend to step down as chief minister in the foreseeable future.
“You’re not in this job forever. Most people I know who have gone into it have had a list of things or many things they want to do; there will never be a time that you’ll have ticked off everything on your list. … I’m not going to get it all done, and so there’s a sense that there are still things that I want to do… I’ll be in my early fifties, so I think I’m not quite done yet.”
By the end of this term, Mr Barr will pass Jon Stanhope’s record of nine years and 188 days as the longest serving chief minister in the ACT.
“The ACT has such a short political history that nine years, by the standards of the jurisdiction, is not excessively long or Menziean…” (Robert Menzies was prime minister for 18 years).
Mr Barr says he is less fixated on days in office than on elections won: “That tends to be how you go into Labor Party folklore.”
Nevertheless, he may not win in 2024.
“So, you’ve got to rethink – you get a four-year contract – but to narrow it all down, I’m definitely going to have another career after this. I’m not the sort of person who could just retire aged 51.”
Would he move into federal politics?
“Politics forces you to think in four- to five-year cycles, so you can’t get too far ahead of yourself. I’m not angling for it, but it might happen. I wouldn’t rule it out, but I’m not going to challenge anyone’s preselection. It’s not going to be an ugly fight for it, but if a vacancy arose at some point in the future, beyond the next Territory parliament …”
If he left politics, Mr Barr says he would have to “dabble in a few different things” to find an interesting career.
“I haven’t excessively dwelt on it, but you need to be able to pay the bills and do something you’re passionate about. I suspect I might be able to structure something that gives me a bit of both.
“I’ll always be someone who will be engaged on certain causes. Now, a number of the causes that I’ve been engaged on, we’ve had wins on. We get marriage equality done; I’ve done a lot on the law reform side; I hope we get the voluntary assisted dying stuff done. [Later that week, the Senate passed the Territory rights bill.] I’m a republican, so there’s unfinished business in that regard. I can see myself still being involved in social movements and campaigns.”
But come what may, Mr Barr is determined to do two things: “To get as much of my list of things I want to get done, done. And, if at all possible, to retire from politics on my own terms. That may not happen, because for a lot of politicians, it ends up going two ways – you’re voted out, or you’re carried out in a box. I hope neither. I hope I can get a third pathway.”
Mr Barr encourages anyone interested in becoming involved in politics to do it.
“But go into it with your eyes open. Know that it’s demanding, and that you’re in the public eye, and you have to make certain sacrifices. But being involved and serving your community – decisions are made by those who turn up – and so being in politics and turning up is a really good starting point.”
Proud to support territory rights
I must admit to being nervous as the Senate debated territory rights last week.
We had been quietly confident that this time it would pass, especially after the Senate voted 41-25 in favour of restoring our rights on the second reading of the private members bill Luke Gosling and I moved the week before. But sitting in the Senate chamber and listening to Senators debate Senator Jacinta Nampijinpa Price’s attempt to amend the bill, all that was at stake weighed heavily on me.
There had been many failed attempts in the 25 years since the Andrews bill repealed legislation that made the NT the first jurisdiction in Australia to permit voluntary assisted dying. The bill had the effect of stripping the territories of democratic rights to legislate on the issue, making us second class citizens. The battle to restore territory rights has waged ever since.
However, this time was different. For one, the composition of the Senate and the “no” camp had changed dramatically since 2018. ACT Senator Zed Seselja, who opposed the bill in 2018, had been replaced by territory rights supporter, Senator David Pocock. Senator Jane Hume, who also voted no in 2018, delivered a powerful and moving speech in the Senate in support, and I thank her for sharing her personal journey.
Secondly, the political landscape around voluntary assisted dying laws has shifted.
In 1995, the NT laws were not only an Australian first but were world leading. One of the justifications for the discriminatory Andrews law had been to stop the territories from getting too far ahead of the rest of the country. But every state has now voted to introduce voluntary assisted dying laws, meaning the territories were being left behind – held back by the Andrews law.
Sitting in the Senate chamber last Thursday listening to powerful speeches in support from across political lines, it felt like the weight of history was on our side. In the end, Senator Price’s amendments, which would have continued to restrict the territories’ ability to legislate, were defeated.
In the afternoon before the debate began, my ACT and NT Labor colleagues, Senator Pocock, and I met with advocates who have led the way on this issue, including former NT Chief Minister Marshall Perron – who passed the original laws in 1995 that the Andrews bill sought to block. It was humbling to join with advocates suffering from terminal illnesses themselves or who had lost loved ones, who, with incredible strength, are using their experiences to push for a better future for others.
Territory rights champions ACT Chief Minister Andrew Barr and ACT Human Rights Minister Tara Cheyne were there. I particularly want to acknowledge Tara who has fought tirelessly to keep this injustice front of mind, my friend whom I have talked with about this over many years. I think my colleague Senator Katy Gallagher, who has fought for our rights for over a decade, and skilfully steered this bill through the Senate, said it best: “It is the reason I am in politics. When you see something that isn’t fair, you change it.”
I want to again thank everyone who has kept up the fight for 25 years and all involved in this most recent push, those who spoke and voted to support our rights. It’s been an honour to stand with you, and I’m proud to have played my part in righting this wrong.
Ch ristmas spirit s
COME TO LIFE AT CANBERRA THEATRE CENTRE
In houses so quiet, without even the squeak of a mouse, to those full of ghosts of past, present, and future, it is undeniable the festive season o ers many tales that bring families together. One of the most beloved Christmas classics comes to Canberra Theatre Centre when A Christmas Carol brings the festive spirit to the stage on 20-24 December.
Bringing the show to the stage is the shake & stir theatre company, which has received acclaim at home and abroad for its work in theatre, television, and fi lm. For the past fi ve years, they have been touring A Christmas Carol to theatres around the country.
Having worked on the production from the start, actor Arnijka Larcombe-Weate says the cast and crew are like a family and are grateful they get to start their festive season together. They celebrate a Christmas of sorts before each celebrating with their families, like their own family tradition - one they hope to pass on to the recurring audiences of their show.
By the end of the show season, she says the team all feel how Scrooge does at the end of the play; knowing worldly goods aren’t everything and it is better to give the gift of love and time together rather than an object.
“Each time I do this show, it is such a beautiful reminder that money isn’t everything; it helps us pay the bills and buy the things we want but don’t really need. Scrooge falls into the trap of things make me happy more than anything else,” Larcombe-Weate says.
The story follows a selfi sh and greedy businessman, Ebenezer Scrooge, who puts money above all else. When Christmas time comes, he reluctantly lets his employee, Bob Cratchit, have time o . He then sco s at an invitation to Christmas dinner, carollers, and a request for a donation from a charity.
As Scrooge spends Christmas Eve alone, he is visited by the ghost of his old business partner, Jacob Marley, who has come to warn Scrooge that unless he changes his ways, he will be doomed to wander the afterlife bound by the heavy chains of a life full of greed and self-centredness.
Through the evening, we are transported back to the Christmas of Scrooge’s youth spent with those he once loved. The ghost of Christmas present takes him to his underpaid employee’s home. Lastly, the ghost of Christmas yet to come shows Scrooge what he will leave behind – a neglected tombstone and a home to be ransacked with no-one mourning his passing.
“Looking at the future [ghost], he is showing Scrooge the scary future that could be, which I think, from an objective point of view, is the most powerful. A dark and scary eyeopener to what could be, but I think there is so much power to that present ghost,” Larcombe-Weate says.
Larcombe-Weate plays a number of roles each year, with her hero character being Belle. Before becoming a bitter old man, Scrooge had a more social life and a promising romantic relationship, however, his greed got in the way.
“She really is an emotional reminder for Scrooge that love and money are very di erent things. For Belle, love is more important, and for Scrooge, it is the opposite. Financial wealth for Scrooge leads to poverty of love and emotion,” Larcombe-Weate says.
Though she loves him, Belle makes the decision to leave Scrooge as she knows he will never love her as much as money. Belle is a relatable character for anyone who has been in that di cult situation where you have to walk away from the one you love because you know the relationship will just cause pain and su ering in the long run.
Larcombe-Weate says it isn’t just romantic
shake & stir theatre co brings Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol to the stage at Canberra Theatre Centre, 20-24 December.
relationships that end this way. Friendships are also torn apart under similar strain where one person is heading somewhere dark and the other can’t follow; not for a lack of love, which is something she has experienced herself.
“You can try to enforce or suggest a better life or better resolution that you think will help them,” the actor says.
For her, the beauty of Christmas lies with the Cratchit family. During the visit of the ghost of Christmas present, we see how they celebrate. At the table with what Larcombe-Weate says is the world’s smallest chicken and rotten veggies, they are grateful for the time they have together as a family with their gravely sick son, Tiny Tim.
“I truly believe that if we all follow through that Cratchit family belief we will all be better o . They have nothing yet they are the happiest people in the story,” she says.
Remembering Christmas when she was growing up, the actor says she was always excited about the presents, as children are. Now that she’s older, she understands the magic of Christmas is in the connections with those around you.
Lucky to have grown up in a loving and supportive family and grateful to have experienced the good life, her heart goes out to those who may have not. She is always blown away by how many people at the end of the show thank them, which she says is the best part of the job.
“I am so grateful that I can hopefully show people that this is the good life, this is what life should be about; connecting with good people and trying to be the best version of yourself and, in turn, it warms other people and warms audiences’ hearts,” she says.
While Christmas has roots as a religious holiday and for some it is still about celebrating the birth of Jesus, in recent years there’s been an infl ux of non-Christians joining the festivities. Larcombe-Weate says her mother instilled in her from a young age the importance of celebrating the di erences – something the play embodies, as its message is that love, family, and connection are the most important parts of life, making it a fun and welcoming story for those from all backgrounds.
“Christmas is not in a box; it is something that can be celebrated in di erent ways by di erent people, but the thing that isn’t di erent is that we get to celebrate as a community through love, food and connection. It goes beyond any di erences that may divide us,” she says.
Charles Dickens wrote the cautionary tale in 1843, during a time when Christmas was being reimagined in the United Kingdom. Christmas trees had only become festive centerpieces in homes at the turn of the previous century, with Queen Victoria and Prince Albert increasing their popularity. In the early 1800s, Christmas carols were making a resurgence; Dickens himself showed a particular interest in the holiday season, writing several short stories with the most well-received being A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas. (conveniently shortened to A Christmas Carol).
As the year comes to a close, it is also a time of refl ection on the 12 months that have passed and how or what we might want to change in the New Year. Larcombe-Weate says Dickens, being one of the greatest writers of all time, would have had that idea at the forefront of his mind; the character arcs demonstate it is never too late to change or reinvent yourself – all you need to do is start.
“I think everyone’s New Year’s resolution should always be to be the best version of yourself. Scrooge is the representation of that. He had that lightbulb moment where he sees he is really hurting other people, and he realises ‘I have the power to change that, I have power to change who I am’,” Larcombe-Weate says. Share with your loved ones the perfect Christmas present with the gift of a theatre experience in A Christmas Carol at Canberra Theatre Centre, 20-24 December. Tickets: canberratheatrecentre.com.au
