The recollections of a petty official
The Dawkins reforms of higher education in the late 1980s thoroughly transformed higher education, turning “colleges into universities, free education into HECS, elite education into mass education, local focuses into international outlooks, vice-chancellors into corporate leaders, teachers into teachers and researchers”. A lot of people hated it and damned the reforms as “instrumentalism” (something nasty, one assumes). Trevor Cook worked for John Dawkins in his personal office from October 1987 for about 3 years as variously a political adviser, an adviser on training policy, media relations and finally as chief of staff . In this article recalling the “Dawkins revolution”, Cook observes that working for Dawkins was a tough gig: he could be a complete and utter bastard , and was sometimes referred to as “dirty Syd”. But equally he could be charming and considerate. He also had a most lateral way of thinking and could visualise paths to a goal not apparent to “ordinary” folk. And he was a fighter. Cook was at the recent launch of a book on the reforms – The Dawkins revolution: 25 years on. This recollection is from Cook’s blog which is well worth visiting – full of interesting stuff.
The first thing to say about working for Dawkins while he was devising and introducing his revolution is that he was a difficult and demanding boss. He treated a lot of people poorly.
Few people get to be Cabinet ministers, even fewer make any real use of the often brief time they have in those privileged positions.
As a staffer, the long-term value of your experience has a lot to do with whether your boss turns out to be one of the few who achieve something significant or one of the many time servers who flap about the place continuously out of their depth in a policy area of which they have only a superficial grasp.
I’m talking here about something far more substantial than the ‘canniness’ of a Bob Carr.
One of the key traits of the Hawke Government was that it had a greater than usual share of the type of Cabinet minister who has the desire and capacity to do something truly significant.
These substantial ministers were fortunate to have the backing of an excellent prime minister in Bob Hawke who encouraged substantial reform efforts without feeling the need to micro-manage and who frequently protected his ministers from the sort of party and sectional interest criticisms that will often cause a lesser political leader to wilt.
The achievement of Dawkins should also be seen as an achievement by Hawke as well.
Dawkins tried to do something significant in every portfolio he held. He came to education after establishing the Cairns group, an alliance of nations that lobbied for fairer and freer trade in agriculture. Dawkins’ achievements for Australian farmers stacks up well against the often lame efforts of his National party predecessors and successors in the trade or primary industries area.
And let’s be clear, the Dawkins revolution was not reform by consensus, it was not watered down to an extent that made it essentially meaningless, but broadly acceptable to all stakeholders.
Dawkins was in a fight that he could have easily lost but he took on his critics and sought to overwhelm them and out-manoeuvre them.
The demands of that fight put a lot of pressure on his staff and his departmental officers, as well as himself.
Political reform is not for the faint hearted. It is not a parlour game.
Dawkins chose to play the game hard.
He was determined to win the argument and get the biggest changes he could.
He would never have been content with ‘canniness’.
Dawkins always knew, perhaps intuited, that big changes have the best chance of lasting the distance.
Too often reforms like these get captured by the internal stakeholders, those with most at stake in an immediate sense.
The Dawkins revolution was not about universities, it was about delivering economic and social benefits from a bigger higher education sector to the Australian community.
This approach helped Dawkins win the political argument, but it did not endear him to many people in the higher education sector.
But now it is 25 years later, and about 8 ministers from both sides of politics have succeeded Dawkins as higher education minister.
Despite some tinkering, the essential architecture of the Dawkins reforms are intact.
It is a rare politician who gets to look back with pride over the continuing success of his reforms a few decades later.
As a staffer, last week’s festivities confirm my long-held view that you’re better off working for a difficult boss than for some plodder who prides himself on his ability to get through his paperwork and turn in a polished (but vacuous) media performance.
When I was working for John Dawkins I never thought about a 25 year celebration and reunion.
But it was a great privilege and pleasure to be there last week.
For another personal recollection, see Don Aitken’s The Dawkins revolution 25 years on
* The now defunct Bulletin published a poster emblazoned “Bastard” Dawkins, which the then head of higher education in the Commonwealth department, Mike Gallagher (now chief of the Go8 secretariat), had signed by Dawkins and framed. He eventually donated it to a charity auction where it went for a substantial sum, possibly to then higher education minister Peter Baldwin.