I suppose it’s fitting enough to end a hiatus by complaining about a silly person.
As some of you may know, the National Human Rights Consultation Paper is in. I recommend reading Part Five, which outlines the findings and recommendations.
The Secretariat was able to assess 8671 submissions that expressed a view on the adequacy or inadequacy of the present system: of these, 2551 thought human rights were adequately protected, whereas 6120 (70 per cent) thought they were not.
Pshaw — how is that possible, in this great land girt by sea? Of course we have adequate rights protection! We’re a proud democracy! We believe in a Fair Go™ for everyone, and pride ourselves on being an egalitarian multiculturalism! Surely we protect something as basic and necessary and obvious as quaint old first generation (that is, civil and political) human rights.
Right?
Australia has a patchwork quilt of protection for human rights. We have made commitments to a range of obligations under international human rights law, but these obligations are enforceable in Australia only if implemented in domestic legislation. Although there are numerous mechanisms for holding Australia accountable at the international level, they are not legally binding and their recommendations can be, and have been, ignored by Australian governments. We also have strong democratic institutions, but they do not always ensure that human rights—and in particular minority rights—receive sufficient consideration.
Everyone repeat after me: this is a bad thing.
The Australian Constitution was not designed to protect individual rights. It contains a few rights, but they are limited in scope and have been interpreted narrowly by the courts. Federal, state and territory legislation protects some human rights, but the legislation can always be amended or suspended to limit or remove that protection. Further, the legislative framework is inconsistent between jurisdictions and difficult to understand and apply.
To be specific, some of the important human rights the Constitution expressly guarantees are the right to trial by jury (s 80) and religious freedom (s 116).
Administrative law allows individuals to challenge government decisions and encourages standards of lawfulness, fairness, rationality and accountability. The remedies it offers are, however, limited, and there is no general onus on government to take human rights into account when making decisions.
Heaven forfend that administrative decision makers should have to consider human rights! The bureaucratic machine would just be bogged down by something unnecessary like that.
The common law, which is developed by judges, protects some human rights, but it cannot stop parliament passing legislation that abrogates human rights with clear and unambiguous language. Chief Justice French has recently spoken of ‘the supremacy of Parliament which can, by using clear words for which it can be held politically accountable, qualify or extinguish [common law] rights and freedoms except to the extent that they may be protected by the Constitution’.
Oh, those judges. We’ll come back to them. Anyway, some of the common law rights are things like the privilege against self-incrimination (that pesky “Fifth Amendment” you keep hearing about from US courtroom and police dramas) and freedom of speech (to the extent that you don’t mess with someone’s right not be defamed by you). But are they really “rights” when all parliament has to do is pass legislation that could be interpreted as implying that they shouldn’t apply in a given dispute between citizen and state? The answer is that they aren’t, and while it’s a common law presumption that laws are written in compliance with international obligations (like ratified treaties), judges simply can’t consider human rights when there’s no leeway.
See, for instance, the case of Al-Kateb v Godwin (2004) 219 CLR 562, in which the conservative High Court ruled that it was A-OK to keep an asylum seeker in immigration detention for ever. Justice Kirby’s dissent is an interesting read; while he acknowledges that the Court can’t slip rights into the Constitution or bring in treaties “by the back door”, [179] he still believes that the court has to give some thought to international law when interpreting legislation. [183] After all, interpreting the legislation as though the drafter had a particular situation in mind, when they clearly didn’t, is just stupid. [150]
In any case, the paper comes to the conclusion that a human rights charter (like the ones VIC and the ACT have at the state level) would be a very, very good idea. Basically, it would codify the human rights we deserve to have protected, and make parliament issue a “statement of compatibility” for each piece of legislation it enacts. Where incompatibilities arise, the infringements on human rights would be justified in the statement, so the public knows what they’re getting in exchange for their rights. Administrative decision makers would be compelled to consider human rights. Judges would get to interpret legislation as intending to respect human rights wherever possible, and if they were to ever think that an act is incompatible, parliament would be informed — but it wouldn’t affect the enforcement or validity of the act. Parliament is still perfectly capable of passing any legislation it wants.
This model has its problems — for one, it’s piss-weak. But what it does is perk up the public’s ears when the government passes something like, oh, say, anti-terror legislation that deprives people of many of their rights when ASIO feels like flexing some executive muscle. It gets all three branches of government thinking about human rights. It raises public awareness. It’s undoubtedly a good step forward. As the report puts it:—
The so-called dialogue model of a Human Rights Act would sit more comfortably with Australians than other models because, even when the courts have expressed a view about the limits on rights, most Australians would prefer parliament to express the final view, once it had received a further opinion from the executive in response to an adverse court finding. The rights regime remains subject to parliament’s will. As noted in Chapter 2, at the public hearings same-sex marriage advocate Rodney Croome asked, ‘If a charter can’t deal effectively with the hard issues what’s the point?’ Under a suitable Australian charter, the ‘hard issues’ could be considered by government, parliament and the courts, but the last word would remain with parliament.
Now, a lot of people disagree with this, and they insist that any human rights acknowledgement whatsoever will undermine democracy and give power to non-elected judges and shift focus to undesirable minority groups at the fringes of society who should have their rights breached for not being Anglo-Saxon and it doesn’t work anyway just look at China and the Soviet Union.
At least, it would seem to be a lot of people, based on the coverage the issue has been getting in The Australian this past week. However, as the retired Kirby alluded to in a speech at Adelaide Uni on Wednesday night, the fact is that it’s not an especially unbiased publication. None of the members of the News Limited conglomo-empire are. Of course, as the most recent edition of On Dit pointed out, that’s the price we pay for all the newspapers being owned by one man. They can all be consistently stupid when it comes to crocodile tears over issues that offend their delicate dead-centre-right philosophy, so at least we won’t have to endure any dreadful inconsistencies in the media.
So it will come as no surprise that I’ve been opening the paper only to face-palm all week. You have Jim Wallace insisting that if we’re listed as the second-best country to live in, then we clearly don’t need any silly rights protection, it would only lead to the “promot[ion of] minority — and often abberant — agendas that would not succeed on their own democratic merit”, and anyway, that naughty PM better make sure he puts it to a referendum! You have an editorial on Tuesday claiming that the proposals are “clearly impractical” and would “engulf the federal bureaucracy in mazes of litigation”. You even have former High Court Justice Callinan going on the record as saying that the courts would be swamped by trivial human rights cases, preventing them from operating properly.
Callinan should know better — as should all of them. Firstly, referendums are only needed to amend the Constitution. A normal Act, like a charter of rights, can be passed and repealed without any fanfare. That’s one of the strengths of this road. Secondly, considering the human rights of minorities is hardly a bad thing. They’re human; therefore, they deserve human rights. It’s excruciatingly simple. Further, one of the purposes of the charter would be to provide easy internal solutions for those harmed by that labyrinthine bureaucracy, instead of needing to resort to the courts and “obscure corners of administrative law” (as Julian Burnside AO QC put it in his speech this week) to resolve screw-ups. Finally, a common theme throughout is the appalling “transfer of power to non-elected judges” — if the judges don’t actually get any power to strike down legislation because it does something as insignificant and petty as breaching Australia’s international human rights obligations, then how does a charter undermine the democratic process?
However, these are people who are expressing their earnest views. Their opinions are horribly misinformed and repetitive, but they probably mean well. This isn’t the case for Janet Albrechtsen. The title of her Wednesday tour de stupidité speaks of “substantive untruths” and “human rights platitudes”. You can see where this is going. The entire piece is a horrific read.
THE Left has a gift for using clever language to push its causes. The trick is to start with a literal truth, a platitude so steeped in emotion it tugs on the heartstrings of human nature, something that just about every sane person will agree on. But what makes the use of a literal truth so seductive is the way it is used to hide a substantive untruth. A bit of intellectual rigour lifts the cloak on these dishonest word games.
Does she really think that a charter of rights would be the culmination of some far-left conspiracy theory? Does she earnestly believe that “literal-truth word-games” are being employed to trick the public into becoming educated about human rights? Does she think anyone’s still going to swallow the argument that the figures the report presents are downright “deceptive” and “orchestrated”, when it’s been used all week and is refuted in the column directly to her right (have to give News Ltd credit for publishing it, actually)? How can a human rights charter lead to a “battle between the courts and parliament”? (Is this 16th century England?) And of course she wraps up by triumphantly revealing that the purpose of the “ruse” was — yes, you guessed it — “the fundamental transfer of power to unelected judges”. Because all those crazy human rights activists want is “to hell with old-fashioned democracy”, after all.
Now, as far as I know, the most old-fashioned form of democracy was found in ancient Athens. Upon inspection, that extreme form of democracy was in a lot of ways admirable, but it also illustrates that an implementation of a democratic process alone doesn’t automatically make a society what we consider to be good in the present age. There was no human rights protection at all in ancient Athens; the citizens often voted to go to war, slaves were kept, and women didn’t have any say. (On the other hand, the reason that extensive human rights protection in the Soviet Union had no effect was because of the absence of the rule of law. The government just ignored laws and did what it wanted.) Is this what Albrechtsen considers to be ideal?
Her pompous conclusion: she’s going to continue “applying a bit of intellectual rigour to [the HR camp’s] seductive and deceptive arguments”. Lucky us, to have such a snappy, smart and spirited stalwart promoting the interests of the Australian people.
In conclusion, a federal human rights charter is a really good idea, and there really aren’t many arguments against it that hold water. While it doesn’t change things very much, that’s one of its biggest strengths. Above all, it has the government communicating internally about human rights, and the public much more informed than they are now. And while everyone should debate and engage with this fascinating issue, there are certain infuriating exceptions to the rule.
