You can listen to the Front on your smart speaker every morning to hear the latest episode. Just say play the news from the Australian. From the Australian, here's what's on the Front. I'm Claire Harvey. It's Monday, August nineteen. Patients are waiting nearly two years to access medicines even after they've been approved by medical regulators. The new report in The Australian reveals widespread delays in vital treatments getting on the shelves. That stories live now at the Australian
dot com dot you. Today is the ultimate episode in a special series honoring The Australian's sixtieth anniversary. On today's episode, one of the country's most famous political journalists, The Australian's Editor at Large, Paul Kelly, telling us about the most important characteristic of a journalist, the courage to think for yourself. Paul Kelly is a legend thing speak things glove. Not that one because he does it. Not that one, this one.
There's a conflict between economics and politics. This has been the Treasurer's dilemma.
Just like the singer and the AFL superstar are Paul Kelly is one of the greats. He started at The Australian in nineteen seventy one, when our paper was just seven years old. Paul was a public servant who decided, quite rightly, political journalism was a lot more interesting than being a bureaucrat. His bosses at the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet couldn't believe it.
They were asking me, well, Paul, I mean, what on earth are you doing. You've got a wonderful career ahead of you and the public service if you really know, concentrate for the next forty years you might end up at departmental head. And by the way, what are you going to do? And I said, well, I'm moving to the press gollery. Whereupon there was a you know, the sort of smiles disappeared from their face and there was an awareness this could be a problem for them.
That's Paul speaking at a live gathering to mark The Australian's sixtieth anniversary. He started out as the most junior reporter in a bureau of nine, but Paul had a stunning rise. Within four years, this rookie had been promoted to political correspondent.
So I had a departure from The Australian in nineteen seventy five, which was a very dramatic year of Australian politics. We had the constitutional crisis. I was the political correspondent at the time and I had a bad falling out at the paper. Well, may we say, God say the Queen.
A dramatic year indeed well not.
Being well say with the Governor General. The paper supported the blocking of supply and supported Sir John kerse dismissal
of the Whitlam government. I both opposed at the blocking of supply and wrote to that effect, and strenuously opposed Sir John Kerr's dismissal of Whitlam's Prime Minister, and wrote to that effect that the paper not surprisingly felt that given the discrepancy between its position and my position, it was best if I had part of the post of critical correspondent, which I did, which I did.
Governor General Sir John Kerr used his constitutional power to dismiss the government and call a double dissolution election, which was won by Malcolm Fraser. The Australian had endorsed Whitlam when he was elected in nineteen seventy two, but the paper took an editorial line supporting the dismissal and endorsing
Malcolm Fraser's election in nineteen seventy five. Was part of your decision making informed by who John Kerr was, that he was sort of getting drunk at the races and that he was very unorthodox Or was it about for you about the constitution?
No, I wasn't interested in his personal life. I mean I learned a lot about it because I wrote four book books subsequently about the dismissal of the Whitlam government. It's been something that I've followed for a lot of my life. But No, I wasn't interested in kurs, drinking or anything like that. The judgments I made were the way he conducted himself as Governor General, his use of
the constitutional powers he had. He had the power to dismiss the Prime Minister, there was no question about that. But he should not have dismissed the Prime minister. His obligation as Governor General was to advise an warn He dismissed Whitlam in an ambush, an ambush that the Crown would never have engaged in. So yes, So the judgment I made was about the way he conducted his constitutional responsibilities.
Sometimes it's easier to just go along with the company line, especially when you're young and in a job you're very much enjoying.
There's only one rationale. There's only one, isn't it for being in journalism, and that is to make your assessment of situation, to engage with the politicians, gather the facts. But then you're under an obligation to reach a conclusion which you think is the correct conclusion in terms of making assessments of the politicians. And this was the most
important constitutional crisis in the history of the country. I had very firm views about it, partly formed by my period as a public servant, because when I was a public servant, we serve as government house. I used prepared the Executive Council documents for the Governor General, so I
understood how the Governor General functioned and operated. I was well aware of the powers of the Crown, the powers of the Governor General, the relationship between the Prime Minister and the Governor General, the relationship between the Palace and the Governor General. And so I took this position. And that's what you do. And if you've got political journalists who aren't prepared at the end of the day to back their judgment, then they're not worth a bumper.
By the mid eighties, Paul came back as National Affairs editor. He covered all the big characters.
Golf was wonderful. The point about Golf was Golf was a politician, but he was an actor. See if GoF hadn't gone into politics, he would have gone onto the stage. He would have made a brilliant actor all through the English speaking world. And so Goff was always playing at two games. He was the politician, but he was the actor.
I remember bumping into him one day in King's Hall when he was very angry with the Secretary of the Treasury for Frederic Wheeler, and he said to me, now, comrade, comrade, I like your advice. I like your advice. Do you think I should sack that bastard Wheeler? And I said, oh, GoF, you know, it would be most unlike you to act so rationally. And he said, do you think do you think do you think I'm a rash person? And so we had this extraordinary conversation, which was all a joke.
Of course. That was sort of Goff's personality as the actor rather than the series politician. He fluctuated between the two The most extraordinary politician I dealt with was Rex Connor, who was the Minister for Minerals and Energy in the Whitlam government, who was the architect of the great Kam
Laney Loane. I was very young. He took a shine to me and I used to go down and see him, and he locked the door so I couldn't get out, and we talked for about two or three hours, and eventually I'd say, mister Connor, look, it's been wonderful talking to you. I've really loved it. But I've got to leave. I've got to go upstairs and do some work. I've got a file for the Morrow's Paper.
Was his nickname Buckets.
His nickname was the Strangler.
In the nineteen nineties, Paul became editor in chief.
I've been through two fundamental technological revolutions in journalism. Before these revolutions, we were told, we were briefed about how it would work out, what the consequences would be. All the briefs were completely wrong. It's almost impossible when you get big technological changes at the start before the change, for people to accurately assess what it's going to be.
This chat with Paul was recorded at a recent life gathering of The Australians subscribers. It's part of a deal when you subscribe. Every so often we hold a party for our readers with drinks, cannopis and some great insights into journalism, plus a chance to meet the country's most experienced and respected journalists. Check us out at Theaustralian dot com dot au. What's the cliche of a journo A bit disheveled, a bit beery, a bit smoky pie crumbs
down the front of his tie. If you can't find him shouting questions at a politician, he's probably sinking beers at the pub. Now, that's not really a fair representation of journalism in twenty twenty four, but it was the real deal when Paul Kelly was first working in the Canberra Press Gallery.
Look, when I started political journalism, it was a dangerous and cutthroat business. It was incredibly competitive in the press Gallery was a much larger press gallery. It was a stronger media. The Press Gallery was a beast. It was like being in a Catholic seminary. Inasmuch as there are about one hundred and forty journalists and how many women two two Michelle Nan Gay Davidson.
Alcohol was all part of a gig.
We all drank of a knife. Foster's was compulsory. If you went into Lorry Oak's office, he had a very large blue circular ash tray and at the end of the night, when Laurie left, there were about fifty or sixty cigarette butts in that ashtray. So that was Australia in the early nineteen seventies. People have no idea what sort of workplace it was because it was not subject to any industrial relations laws. We occupied the top floor
of Parliament House. We had our own rules, we had our own operation, and there were very few politicians actually game enough to walk up that final flight of stairs to the press gallery. A few did, but a lot didn't. They were two terrified. So we actually run that press gallery according to our own rules.
Things are of course a bit different today. Every industry in Australia has changed and grown. In journalism, we've seen the demise of the office bar fridge and rigid newspaper deadlines and the advent of dynamic twenty four to seven publishing on app, web, video and right here in audio. We've seen our journalism aggregated and commodified by giant tech platforms. And now we're dealing with the rise of generative artificial intelligence and what that will mean for our beloved craft.
The skill in art of journalism is eternal, so the method will remain. And what's the method, Well, the method is engagement with people, engagement with institutions, attempting to find out what's happening, reporting analysis, so that will continue. What will change is the transmission mechanism. How will the copy be delivered to the individual. So that's where we'll see more and more changes. And of course the method of delivery and the transmission will put pressure on journalism. There's
absolutely no doubt about that. I mean, we are now moving into video big time, so again there's going to be all sorts of innovations that we see. The way to think about it, and this is optimistic, I know, but the way to think about it is that the journalistic skill and art stays. The journalists are going to be required to learn more, think more about how they deliver copy, about how they deliver the information about words
as well as video. But I think that transmission will continue to see a lot of changes.
Any old journals are resistant to change. They bang on about how things were much better in the good old days. Paul isn't like that, no.
I think one of the points about journalism is that you're on the cutting edge, have changed the entire time. All the time, you are dealing with the big issues, but it's a changing agenda. So I think journalists, in terms of the way they think, in terms of their culture, they're alert to that. I mean, if you've got someone in journalism and they can't stand change, well they're not going to be much good.
You can read all Paul Kelly's journalism and the rest of the nation's best news, business, sport and commentary right now at the Australian dot com dot au