Robodebt and the double standard at the heart of an ongoing scandal

Us and them

The way in which the powers-that-be have handled the aftermath of the Royal Commission into the debacle popularly known as Robodebt has arguably added to the trauma of those who were subjected to this illegal, government-led, media-supported abuse of process. As well, what has happened since the Commission reported has likely undermined the public’s faith in the ability of any government—the political class more broadly—to respond adequately to such a failure of governance.

There is something sickening in the glaring contrast between how the government of the day and their public service ruthlessly enforced the measures associated with income averaging, debt raising, and debt recovery and the solicitude now being extended to those individuals the Royal Commission singled out for investigation.

It is heartbreaking and infuriating to know that some victims of this bureaucratic illegality committed suicide because of the pressure it put them under, while key players in its implementation are free to roam the world unencumbered, unapologetic and Scott free.

“It is remarkable,” Royal Commissioner Catherine Holmes noted in the preface to her report, “how little interest there seems to have been in ensuring the Scheme’s legality, how rushed its implementation was, how little thought was given to how it would affect welfare recipients and the lengths to which public servants were prepared to go to oblige ministers on a quest for savings.”

No such lack of interest and rushed implementation has characterised how various agencies have responded since she lodged her report. Not only has every courtesy been extended to those the Royal Commissioner referred for investigation—including their ongoing anonymity—but those agencies have dragged their feet, and to this point not one person has been charged with a crime.

The Australian Public Service Commission (APSC) has yet to finish its investigations, and the latest update on their website notes, without any apparent irony, given how the victims of Robodebt themselves were treated, that “The 16 matters are complex, with a significant volume of evidence. Sufficient time is required to allow the Independent Reviewers, Mr Stephen Sedgwick AO and Ms Penny Shakespeare, to conduct the inquiries in a manner that is robust and affords respondents appropriate procedural fairness.”

The APSC had previously announced that “Agency Heads have considered the full range of actions available for effective and proportionate responses to the adverse commentary presented in the Royal Commission’s report,” and that they have “determined the most appropriate action to improve or change behaviour, including ongoing management of performance through counselling, training, mentoring or closer supervision for those employees not referred to the APS Code of Conduct processes.”

Now, just to squeeze more lemon onto the open wound, the freshly minted National Anti-Corruption Commission—a secretive organisation, who are not obliged to conduct their inquiries in public out of deference to the type of person likely to be brought before them—has issued a press release saying they have “decided not to commence a corruption investigation as it would not add value in the public interest.”

It is worth lingering on the justifications they provide, all of which amounts to, some might say, the sort of Yes, Prime Minister circling of the wagons where chaps don’t go after chaps.

In deciding whether to commence a corruption investigation, the Commission takes into account a range of factors. A significant consideration is whether a corruption investigation would add value in the public interest, and that is particularly relevant where there are or have been other investigations into the same matter. There is not value in duplicating work that has been or is being done by others, in this case with the investigatory powers of the Royal Commission, and the remedial powers of the APSC. 

Beyond considering whether the conduct in question amounted to corrupt conduct within the meaning of the Act and, if satisfied, making such a finding, the Commission cannot grant a remedy or impose a sanction (as the APSC can). Nor could it make any recommendation that could not have been made by the Robodebt Royal Commission. An investigation by the Commission would not provide any individual remedy or redress for the recipients of government payments or their families who suffered due to the Robodebt Scheme. 

The sheer nerve of using the Royal Commission’s own investigation as an excuse for not pursuing further investigations, when it was the Royal Commission that referred these people to NACC for further investigation in the first place, is Trumpian, or Orwellian, in its disingenuousness.

And again, you can’t help but notice all the due process and righteous concerns for fairness that were conspicuously absent when ordinary members of the public were confronted with their “robodebts” are suddenly front-and-centre when it is the “chaps” who are in the dock. Or not in the dock, as the case may be.

To then imperiously conclude that further investigation would not be in the public interest is the sort of out-of-touch arrogance that makes you wonder if any lessons have been learned from all this.

Still, perhaps the most shocking and condescending aspect of their whole approach was when on Twitter/X the NACC announced they were not taking any action and then had the nerve to add this:

The link is to the NACC Support Services page.

The lack of decency is breathtaking. We acknowledge, in passing, that this decision may damage your mental health, so, hey, why don’t you get some support from the people who just said they weren’t going to support you by not investigating the people the Royal Commission referred to us for civil action or criminal prosecution?

That they could tweet such a thing is cluelessness bordering on cruelty.

There is no need to go back through the devasting evidence and examples provided to the Royal Commission of just how badly people were treated during those years as I am sure those most affected are well aware of what happened. But it does bear repeating what a catastrophe this was, that it cost people their lives and mental health, and that the Royal Commission was meant to be part of a process that went some way to, not just acknowledging the wrong that was done to innocent people, but to show that our systems of governance were up to the task of never letting it happen again. Of letting justice be seen to be done.

Instead, all that has happened is that the us-and-them divide at the centre of the problem in the first place has been reinforced, no prosecutions will likely follow, and that if you are upset about any of this, maybe ring the NACC help line.

FFS.

Truly dismaying was the revelation of dishonesty and collusion to prevent the Scheme’s lack of legal foundation coming to light. Equally disheartening was the ineffectiveness of what one might consider institutional checks and balances – the Commonwealth Ombudsman’s Office, the Office of Legal Services Coordination, the Office of the Australian Information Commissioner and the Administrative Appeals Tribunal – in presenting any hindrance to the Scheme’s continuance.

—from the final report of the Royal Commission

When she handed down her final report, Royal Commissioner Catherine Holmes AC SC made two additional points about how to ensure something like this didn’t happen again. One of them was that “politicians need to lead a change in social attitudes to people receiving welfare payments,” and I wonder how that is going? The other thing she said was that “whether a public service can be developed with sufficient robustness to ensure that something of the like of the Robodebt scheme could not occur again will depend on the will of the government of the day, because culture is set from the top down.”

After all this, it is hard to believe that any such “sufficiently robust public service” will ever emerge. The message from “the top down” is…move on.

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