𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃. 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑.

A comment about Opposition Leader Angus Taylor caught my attention on X.

 

“Impressive education & business skills but Angus Taylor just isn’t a salesman.”

 

And it started me thinking.

 

Because personally, I don’t think a salesman is what Australia desperately needs.

 

What we need more than ever are leaders.

 

There is a significant difference between being able to sell something & being capable of delivering it.

 

And perhaps we need to think a little harder about the folly of allowing ourselves to be sold political products & political spiel rather than questioning what is actually inside the box.

 

Yes, some salesmanship matters in politics. But there’s an entire team to help with that. It shouldn’t rest solely on the leader.

 

A leader must communicate. Campaign. Inspire confidence. Explain ideas. Persuade people to support reforms that may be difficult or unpopular.

 

That takes experience & skill.

 

But somewhere along the way we seem to have started confusing the skills required to win power with the skills needed to exercise it.

 

They are not the same thing.

 

Governing needs policy depth, economic competence, administrative rigour, judgement, negotiating ability & the capacity to make tough decisions.

 

More importantly, it requires being honest about those tough decisions.

 

It requires understanding not merely what you want to do, but how government actually works. How competing interests are managed. How policy translates into implementation. And what the consequences might be five or ten years down the track.

 

None of that necessarily makes for a catchy slogan.

 

Often, it is simply explaining the what, the why & the how. These are the benefits. These are the downsides. These are the trade-offs.

 

And doing that effectively requires something rather more substantial than a clever sales pitch. It requires a solid foundation supporting the argument.

 

A politician can be exceptionally good at campaigning & communicating while being considerably less effective at leading & governing.

 

I’d argue the current Labor frontbench has some examples of precisely that. And there are a couple of populist politicians whose skill in campaigning against government I maintain would prove to be considerably greater than their ability to actually govern — much as we’ve seen with Labor. 

 

Campaigning & governing are two vastly different occupations.

 

Which brings me back to something that has intrigued me about the criticism of recent Liberal leaders such as Peter Dutton & now Angus Taylor.

 

One of the criticisms repeatedly levelled at Dutton was that he couldn’t “sell” himself or his policies.

 

So occasionally I asked people making that criticism a few questions.

 

Had they listened to his longer interviews? No.

 

Had they read the policies? No.

 

Had they listened to what he actually said rather than what somebody else said he’d said? Frequently, no.

 

Yet somehow, they knew he couldn’t “sell” his message. If only I had such skill.

 

And now I’m beginning to hear variations of the same criticism about Taylor.

 

That tells us something rather uncomfortable about ourselves as voters.

 

How much responsibility do we place on politicians to sell us something & how much responsibility do we accept ourselves for finding out what we’re buying?

 

Because democracy isn’t supposed to be QVC.

 

It isn’t the latest shopping channel.

 

We aren’t buying a set of steak knives because somebody gave an entertaining presentation & threw in free postage.

 

We’re choosing people to govern a country.

 

For me, substance matters far more than salesmanship.

 

I want the information that allows me to decide whether someone understands the economy. Whether they understand government. Whether their policies withstand scrutiny. Whether they have judgement. Whether they have experienced people around them. Whether what they’re proposing can be implemented.

 

Give me the tools to examine what they’ve said, what they’re proposing & what it means.

 

Just spare me the used-car salesman’s spiel.

 

I don’t confuse the quality of the pitch with the quality of the product.

 

Perhaps that distinction has become increasingly blurred because modern political campaigning is now almost perpetual.

 

Social media rewards the memorable line, the performance, the outrage & the personality.

 

Complex policy doesn’t fit neatly into a meme.

 

So increasingly we judge politicians by how well they PERFORM politics rather than examining how well equipped they are to PRACTISE & DELIVER good government.

 

And then comes the irony.

 

When the salesman turns out to be a dud & the shiny product we bought doesn’t perform quite as advertised, we’re furious.

 

We complain about the politicians.

 

We complain about the government.

 

We complain that nobody told us.

 

Occasionally we should also look in the mirror.

 

Because politicians can make the pitch.

 

Ultimately, we’re the ones who choose whether to buy it.

 

But perhaps I’m wrong.

 

Perhaps what the electorate increasingly wants really is salesmen & women prepared to sell us political products individually tailored to our own demands.

 

• Leave the Paris Agreement.
•  Give me more childcare.
•  Give me free education.
•  Sack Malcolm Turnbull.
•  Give me shorter working hours.
•  Stop immigration.
•  Fix housing.
•  Lower my cost of living.
•  But don’t ask me to sacrifice anything to achieve any of it.
•  Don’t tell me there are competing priorities.
•  Don’t tell me there are consequences.
•  And definitely don’t tell me that I can’t have everything I want.

 But that isn’t leadership.

Any politicians who tailor their spiel simply to deliver on individual demands aren’t leaders. They’re used-car salesmen.

Leadership is balancing what people want against what the country needs, what government can afford & what can be delivered.

 

And sometimes leadership means having the courage to tell voters something no salesman ever wants to tell a customer:

 

NO. 

 

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧?

I’ve said before that One Nation increasingly appears to operate as much like a commercial enterprise as a political party.

And the examples keep accumulating.

 

The question isn’t whether a political party is entitled to raise money. Of course it is.

 

The question is what happens when political fundraising, commercial ventures, privately owned companies, party officials & party money increasingly intersect.

 

Follow the money

 

We now have the Small Batch Brewing arrangement. Small Batch Brewing is a privately owned company involving Pauline Hanson, James Ashby & party official Alex Jones.
 
One Nation has acknowledged approving party funds for a loan to establish a shed & distilling equipment on Ashby’s privately owned land, saying the arrangement would minimise costs, including commercial rent.
 
The party has projected that the micro-distillery could ultimately produce up to $500,000 a year in licensing revenue.
 
So, follow the structure:
 
One Nation funds → loan to privately owned company → company funds shed/distillery → shed situated on Ashby’s privately owned land → company operates alcohol business → One Nation expects licensing revenue.
 
That doesn’t prove wrongdoing.
 
But it does raise perfectly legitimate governance questions.

• Who owns the shed?
• What are the terms of the loan?
• Is it secured?
• What arrangements exist for the use of Ashby’s land?
• What happens to the improvements made to that land?
• And what contractual arrangements guarantee that the financial benefit flows back to One Nation?

There is another obvious governance issue.

Ashby sits on the One Nation national executive that approved the arrangement, while also being a shareholder in the company receiving the loan & the owner of the land on which the structure sits.
 
One Nation says the decision was unanimous.
 
Again, none of that proves wrongdoing. But related-party transactions are precisely where transparency matters most.
 
Then there’s Victoria
 
One Nation says 1,209 people expressed interest in becoming candidates for the Victorian election on 28 November.
 
Around 220 reportedly proceeded to the final stage, where applicants were required to pay a $150 non-refundable application fee — potentially producing around $33,000.
 
Successful candidates were then told they would need to contribute another $5,500 of their own money to run.
 
If One Nation fields candidates across all 88 lower-house & eight upper-house seats, those candidate contributions could amount to another $528,000.
 
Add estimated membership fees associated with the process & the total could reach around $633,000.
 
One Nation says the $150 is a nominal cost-recovery measure for police & other candidate checks, while the candidate contributions are paid into its Victorian state campaign account.
 
Candidate fees themselves are hardly extraordinary in Australian politics.
 
But the broader picture is becoming increasingly interesting.

• Alcohol.
• Merchandising.
• Licensing revenue.
• A media enterprise 
• Candidate application fees.
• Candidate campaign contributions.

And commercial arrangements involving companies owned by senior party figures.

 

Interestingly, I’m no longer alone in wondering about the distinction between the political organisation & the business operation.

 

Jennifer Game, One Nation’s former South Australian leader & Pauline Hanson’s policy adviser for eight years, told Four Corners:

 

“It’s not a party, in truth. It’s more like a small business.”

 

And then there is the structure itself

 

The Australian Business Register records Pauline Hanson’s One Nation Limited as an Australian Public Company.

 

Separately, One Nation Queensland Division Inc. holds the registered business names “One Nation” & “Pauline Hanson’s One Nation.”

 

There is also a separate Pauline Hanson’s One Nation Merchandising entity, along with various state entities.

 

None of that is inherently improper. Political organisations need legal entities through which to operate, employ people, enter contracts & conduct their affairs.

 

But when significant commercial activities begin operating alongside the political operation, the structure becomes relevant.

 

And this is where comparisons with Labor, Liberal & the Nationals need some examination.

 

One Nation has pointed to commercial activities associated with other political parties in defending its own arrangements.

 

But simply saying “other political parties have businesses too” misses the point.

 

The structures are not necessarily comparable.

 

The Liberal Party is structured as a federation of autonomous state & territory divisions, with members, branches, state councils, a Federal Council & Federal Executive.

 

The Nationals operates on a similarly federated model, with autonomous state parties built from local branches, electorate councils, state conferences & central councils which then affiliate federally.

 

Labor likewise has its longstanding branch, state & federal organisational structure.

 

These are large membership-based political organisations with layers of internal governance.

 

One Nation’s commercial arrangements raise a somewhat different question.

 

Take Small Batch Brewing.

 

One Nation itself has compared its commercial activities with Labor’s interests in licensed clubs & the Liberal Party’s involvement with Parakeelia.

 

But there is a significant distinction.

 

Small Batch Brewing isn’t owned by One Nation.

 

Nor, according to the reported corporate records, is it owned by a trust controlled by One Nation.

 

It is privately owned in equal shares by Pauline Hanson, James Ashby & Alex Jones.

 

Yet One Nation says the party has agreed to loan that privately owned company the establishment costs for a shed & distilling equipment, with the shed located on land privately owned by Ashby.

 

That is the distinction that interests me.

 

The issue isn’t whether political parties are permitted to raise money commercially. Clearly, they can.

 

Nor is the mere existence of companies, incorporated associations, trusts, or business names particularly remarkable.

 

The question is who owns the commercial entity receiving the party’s money, who owns the resulting assets, who controls the transactions between those entities & where the ultimate financial benefit resides.

 

A party-owned or party-controlled asset is one thing.

 

Party money flowing into a privately owned company whose shareholders include senior figures within that same political party is structurally quite another.

 

Revenue is not profit

 

And that brings me to another aspect worth considering — financial disclosure.

 

Political-party electoral disclosures are not conventional commercial profit-and-loss accounts.

 

The Australian Electoral Commission requires political parties to disclose matters including total receipts, payments & debts, along with specified details above the relevant disclosure thresholds.

 

Importantly, the AEC itself makes the distinction clear: political-party returns disclose amounts received, not income or profit.

 

So, if a venture receives $14,000 but costs $12,750 to operate, the disclosure records $14,000 in receipts & $12,750 in payments. It does not simply report a $1,250 profit.

 

That distinction becomes increasingly important when a political organisation has multiple commercial activities & transactions involving separate entities.

 

Knowing that money came in & money went out isn’t necessarily the same thing as being able to see a consolidated commercial picture.

• How much revenue does each venture generate?
• What does each venture cost?
• Where does the resulting profit ultimately sit?
• Who owns the intellectual property?
• Who owns the physical assets?
• What related-party transactions occur?
• And who ultimately benefits?

And what happens if One Nation doesn’t?

 

That brings me to perhaps the most interesting question.

 

Political parties rise & fall.

 

One Nation is currently enjoying increased electoral support. But political fortunes can change remarkably quickly. Parties split, contract, merge, deregister or sometimes simply disappear.

 

Commercial assets don’t necessarily disappear with them.

 

• A shed remains a shed.
• A distillery remains a distillery.
• A company remains a company unless it is wound up.
• Intellectual property can retain value.

Brands can retain value.

 

Licensing arrangements can retain value.

 

So, if party money has helped finance commercial assets or ventures involving separately owned entities, what happens if the political party itself one day contracts dramatically or ceases to operate in its present form?

 

Who owns those assets then?

• The political party?
• A corporate entity?
• The private company?
• The shareholders?
• The landowner?
• The members?

And perhaps that last question is the most important.

 

If money generated through political activity membership fees, candidate contributions, donations, or other party revenue has contributed to building commercial value, what legal or beneficial interest do ordinary members of the political party actually have in that value?

 

I don’t know the answers.

 

And that is precisely the point.

 

None of these questions establishes wrongdoing & commercial activity by a political party isn’t inherently improper.

 

But transparency becomes more important, not less, when the boundaries between political organisation, commercial enterprise, private company & senior party officials begin to overlap.

 

One Nation wants Australians to take it increasingly seriously as a political force.

 

With that increased political significance comes increased scrutiny.

 

And when you follow the money, I think one question is becoming increasingly reasonable to ask:

 

Where does the political party end & the commercial enterprises begin?