The Light and the Hill

The Australian Labor Party has strayed from its historic purpose. This is the first in a six-part series. Andrew Brown It’s about Labour’s retreat from reform and what that means for Australia.

Power not used in the face of injustice is not restraint.

It is a choice.

Labor once believed that government existed to shape the economy in the service of the people. Power was not something to apologize for or tiptoe around. It was something to be used. Redistribution was not excessive. It was a necessity. Stability was not the goal. This was a result of justice.

This clarity has diminished.

Today Labor governs as if the economy should never be disturbed, even if its recession crushes lives beneath it. Inequality is accepted, measured and politely discussed, but rarely confronted. Markets are calming as living standards erode. The language of justice remains. The application lags.

It’s not a matter of intent.

It’s a matter of purpose.

The light on the hill was never poetry. It was instruction. Government existed to raise the living standards of working people and to rein in capital when it became predatory. The aim of the government was not to win elections. This was a result of using it correctly.

This belief once grounded Labor governments in different eras and personalities. Policies were different. Instinct didn’t do it.

Whitlam, Hawke, Keating

Whitlam governed inequality as if it were an emergency because he understood that it was. In three years, he delivered universal health care, free college education, a major expansion of public housing, family law reform, cultural investment, and an independent foreign policy.

He didn’t ask if the markets were comfortable. He asked whether people were free.

Hawke understood that prosperity without justice was a dead end. Medicare was established. The social wage increased. Unions were treated as central economic actors rather than tolerated obstacles. Inequality narrowed. Living standards have increased greatly. Rather than being permanently concentrated at the top, growth has reached workers.

Keating was even more clear. Markets were helpful servants and terrible masters. He faced monopoly power. He established a compulsory retirement system so that working people would not retire poor while capital accumulated endlessly on them. He realized that courage is not recklessness.

It was shyness.

Where is the conviction?

These governments were not perfect. They disturbed the interests. They lost the wars. They ruled in conflict. But they shared a conviction that now seemed to have diminished. To govern meant choosing sides. Reform carried risks. Unused power was a waste of power.

Since it’s not abstract, the contrast now feels sharp.

I am the son of a former Hawke cabinet minister. I grew up around those governments. I watched how decisions were made, how reform was discussed instead of apologies, how ministers held onto their portfolios and defended their policies in public. I saw disagreements handled openly and authority exercised without shame.

This is not nostalgia.

It is a political observation.

These governments did not hide behind the process. They did not confuse caution with wisdom. They understood that authority comes from belief and explanation, not control. They trusted the public to engage in difficult discussions and brought them with them rather than avoiding them.

unused power

The light overhead never promised comfort. It promised responsibility. Clarity was demanded at a time when clarity carried risks. It assumed conflict and required courage. He asked governments to overturn established regulations when those regulations reinforced injustice.

Labor once understood that governing did not mean managing, but acting. This power was held in trust, not hidden for safety. This reform was rarely comfortable and almost never polite.

Power not used in the face of injustice is not restraint.

It is a choice.

And it’s a choice that shapes everything that follows.

This is the first of a six-part Light and the Hill series.. Brown’s articles trace how Labour’s retreat became habitual. Institutional forces shaping the party and Experienced consequences of being careful the final sections examine Australia’s stance in the region and the future of progressive governance.

This was planned. And Chris Minns owns it.