Mal-competent

Australians are currently high. Giddily high on the feeling of having a leader who speaks in full sentences, having considered the question he was asked before answering.

On the face of things, this is a pretty basic thing to be high on. It’s sort of like being bowled over when your suitcase arrives promptly at the baggage collection, thrilled when your train arrives on time or ecstatic when you fail to burn your toast. This is a triumph of the mundane – a celebration of not having to grit your teeth and swear under your breath in frustration.

This last week has rushed by, the public riding on waves of relief. Content is back, we forgot how much we love content. It doesn't seem to matter that the current refugee policy remains, or that marriage equality seems doomed to a divisive public vote, or that Scott Morrison is a Treasurer with no idea. We are no longer an embarrassment. Our Prime Minister does not eat raw onions out of the ground; he probably goes to a growers market, one of those fancy ones with the little sprinklers that make the fruit glisten and a shelf in the corner with jars of conserve wrapped in tartan. This guy eats apples, probably, who knows?

For now, this will be enough. We will be less critical and, strangely, less aware of politics than we were before. As long as the new regime can contain its internal differences, it will cruise to the next election with the bold platform of being mildly competent.

This is where you need an effective opposition, to provide a viable alternative, a different vision, a rebuttal of the status quo. What a shame we don't have one. Their political muscles are atrophied from boxing a paper cut-out villain who, oddly, is now reflected in their political rhetoric. The one reminder of Tony Abbott's two year reign of hideous national embarrassment is the continued existence of the sub-optimal bloke who opposed him. 'This is who we preferred to lead back then, haha, how quaint we were.'

There is not time for another coup; it's not practical under current rules in any case. Only the cleansing fire of an electoral humiliation will bring renewal and torch the dead wood. Then, and only then, will we have a game worth playing.

Until then, we have a born-to-rule Emperor of the centre-right.

Just bask in the normality.