Tag Archives: Sean Kelly

Sydney Writers’ Festival 2026: My Day Three, part 2

Poetry may fill a room at the Carriageworks, but when you get a panel of pundits talking politics, you have to go big. The Sydney Town Hall was packed for both these sessions, one looking at the state of Australia, the other the USA and therefore the planet.

3.15: Barrie Cassidy and Friends: State of the Nation

This session, a kind of spin-off from the TV show The Insiders, is now a regular at the SWF. It may not be as pleasurable as the now defunct Big Read, where a string of writers entertained the audience by reading to us. But there is pleasure in hearing well-informed, thoughtful people talk to each other about the state of politics.

The host was veteran journalist and panel discussion host, Barrie Cassidy. His fans are clearly legion. In the past his panels have been criticised for the absence of people of colour. This year Waleed Aly (who has also garnered a fan base through TV’s The Project and radio show/podcast The Minefield), broke that barrier. Amy Remeikis, who has also built a following from her TV appearances on the now defunct The Drum, improved the visuals of the occasion by sporting a brilliantly coloured flowing garment. Nikki Savva, acerbic chronicler of the conservative side of Australian politics, added a modest touch of colour with a red jacket, while the men were thoroughly drab. Sean Kelly, known to me from his regular writing for The Monthly and most recently a Quarterly Essay (my blog post here), completed the line-up.

The conversation ranged intelligently over the current political landscape.

The apparent collapse of the Liberal Party and virtual extinction of the National Party loomed large. Amy Remeikis preened just a little, saying that she had predicted it, then explained that as a’geriatric millennial’ she understood all too clearly the deep unpoopularity of their policies, especially but not only on housing. Waleed Aly said that for a long time the Nationals had coasted along because they ‘had no natural predators’. But now One Nation has turned up as a party of grievance and put an end to their easy ride. Sean Kelly said the issue isn’t just the rise fo One Nation, but a general volatility in the Australian electorate: One Nation rose from 6 percent to 40 percent of the vote in 20 months; the independent teals took votes from the major parties on the right in the other direction. Someone listed all the functions of the president of the Liberal Party and observed that incoming president Tony Abbott ticks none of the boxes.

Waleed Aly spoke eloquently in defence of the recent budget. Someone said it was bad news for Labor that the Coalition broadly approved of their increase in the capital gains tax – Labor needed a fight to define themselves, but the Coalition have chosen a different tack. The panellists generally agreed that the Murdoch empire’s response to the budget amounted to asking us to pity the poor billionaires.

I enjoyed the discussion, liked all the participants, and came away none the wiser really, but that says more about me than about the panel.

5.30 The World According to Trump

As someone pointed out, this was a panel of non-USers talking about US politics. They were: Canadian David Moscrop, author of Too Dumb for Democracy, who says that Trump has turned him into a reluctant nationalist; Jon Sopel, British journalist who lived in the USA for eight years; Nick Bryant, also British, who hosts a weekly program on the ABC and has written books with titles like When America Stopped Being Great; and facilitator Amelia Lester, deputy editor of the US journal Foreign Policy, who I believe lives in Sydney. (No people of colour – a rarity at this festival.)

Starting from the question, ‘What is it that makes us so interested in Trump, when there are many other erratic, dangerous autocrats in the world?’ the conversation ranged widely and interestingly, from David Moscrop’ rejection of a can of gravy (a can of gravy) because it was made in the US, to John Sopel letting himself off the leash in a diatribe about Trump’s gangsterism and corruption.

Nick Bryant said that when you ‘excavate’ US history you realise that Trump isn’t an aberration, but the product of a strand that has been there from the start. Jon Sopel spoke of Trump’s brilliance at reading the mood of the country and appealing to its demons. (Obama appealed to its better angels.)

I learned just how entwined with the US Canada is – industrially, politically, culturally and militarily. The US defence plan in case of missile attack from over the Arctic is to knock any missiles out of the sky – above their obliging northern neighbour. Trump’s imposition of tariffs and rhetoric about a takeover creates for Canadians in general a visceral sense of having been punched in the face by a neighbour.

It got very gloomy, especially on the subject of allies’ failure to deal with Trump and Trumpism. But the session finished with a call from David Moscrop for a revitalisation of democracy with things that have been shown to work, of which the only one I noted down was citizen’s assemblies.

Oh, and then a little note, right at the end from either the Canadian or one of the Britishers, about how Australian electoral system has got so much right: compulsory voting, the independent electoral commission, and (to a burst of applause) the democracy sausage. Nick Bryant ended the panel by quoting David Malouf’s phrase, ‘citizenship lightly but seriously assumed’.


The Sydney Writers’ Festival took place on the beautiful land of Gadigal of teh Eora Nation. I have written this blog post on Gadigal and Wangal land, a coiuple of kilometres down the hill. I acknowledge their Elders past and present, and welcome First Nations readers of this blog.

Sean Kelly Fights the Good Fight

Sean Kelly, The Good Fight: What Does Labor Stand For? (Quarterly Essay 100, 2025)
– plus correspondence in Quarterly Essay 101

The subtitle of this Quarterly Essay seems even more relevant now than it did three months ago when it was published, as our Labor governments make mealy mouthed statements of concern about the ongoing genocide in Gaza or the genocidal rhetoric emanating from the White House and the Pentagon, give the go-ahead to climate vandalism by fossil-fuel companies, follow right-wing advisers in responding to the horrific killing of Jews in Bondi last year, come down hard on protest – oh, you name it!

But I was glad that the essay was more than a prolonged wail about Anthony Albanese et al‘s timidity or worse, perfidy. Instead, it’s a thoughtful essay in the original sense of the word, an attempt – Kelly starts out with a question that he doesn’t know the answer to, and he still doesn’t have a definite answer by the end. And my practice of holding off on reading Quarterly Essays until I can read the correspondence in the following issue paid off beautifully.

Kelly is a Labor man, adviser to former Labor Prime Ministers. Like Anthony Albanese he had a working class Catholic childhood. He tells us briefly that he knows Albanese, and likes him – enough to refrain from the fake-familiarity of nicknames. He frames his discussion as the inevitable tension between ideals (call them beliefs) and pragmatism (things you have to do to stay in government). He argues convincingly that it’s a mistake to adopt a strategy of going slowly with reforms in order to hold onto government long enough to make substantial change. The Whitlam government moved fast, he points out, and came a cropper, but it changed Australia society. Albanese’s assertion that he wants Labor to be the natural party of government, that he wants it to represent all interests, sounds good, but it’s largely a formula for futility.

There is an interesting discussion of the decline of the two-party system. The current impressive degree of unity in the ALP, Kelly argues, is not a good thing. Vigorous debate is a way of refining policy, and the ALP has outsourced the arguments from the left to the Greens, where they can be dismissed as hostility. The current disarray in the Coalition is not useful either – if a good part of Labor’s raison d’être is in ‘fighting Tories’, to use Albanese’s phrase, where do you go when the Tories are doing it for you?

Page 47* quotes Graham Freudenberg, legendary speechwriter for Labor leaders including Gough Whitlam and Bob Hawke. He described the ALP as ‘a collective memory in action’. Kelly comments:

That collective memory, driven by emotion, has inevitably harked back to Labor’s longest period in government: a period in which Labor won the approval of the Australian people at five successive elections, and for which it has since garnered much praise, including from its usual critics.

He is talking about the Hawke-Keating government. The current Labor government, he argues, is striding away from what it sees as the failures of its most recent predecessors and moving towards the ‘glittering memory’ of those years:

Hawke and Keating are both Labor heroes for good reason. Their government introduced Medicare, saved the Franklin River, acted on the High Court’s land rights judgment.

But, he goes on, they also deregulated the economy in ways that the right would have been proud of, and this is what they are mostly remembered for. On page 80, he laments:

The remarkable fact is that Labor, which has historically been so good at mythologising its past, has in this case effectively allowed the right to choose what will dominate its collective memory.

Keating’s personal boldness haunts this essay. Kelly quotes him in his final pages saying that ‘great political leaders have the instincts of artists’:

I always believe in leadership there are only two ingredients: imagination and courage.

This idea should be taken seriously, Kelly says:

I think it should be taken particularly seriously because of the way we have more lately come to think of politicians as technocrats, types of elevated bureaucrats.

We can sense artistic heat in Albanese, he says, but he doesn’t say – he doesn’t have to say – that Albanese is more commonly seen as fitting the technocrat, elevated-bureaucrat description. Then, with an almost Montaigne-like swerve, he discusses the writer Ella Ferrante’s creative process, ending the essay with this paragraph:

After establishing a consistent tone, she breaks out of her calmness. There is, she admits, a risk: that the calm will not be able to be recovered. or that the readers will no longer believe in that calm. But it is that risk that gives her writing life.


Correspondence in Quarterly Essay 101 (Blind Spot by Michael Wesley) is well worth reading. The learned correspondents correct Kelly on a number of facts. The one that stands out for me is Judith Brett, whose contribution is in effect a brief and enlightening essay on the word ‘socialism’:

What socialism has meant in Australian political debate has not been opposition to capitalism but belief in the creative and ameliorative capacities of the state to reduce inequality and advance the common good.

There’s quite a bit more, all worth reading, but it’s tangential to Kelly’s central argument. That is, he may be wrong when he says that Albanese has abandoned Labor’s socialist objective by catering to business interests, but his concern stands, and in his reply to correspondents he has interesting things to say about Albanese in relation to that formulation.

The other correspondents include a number of Labor insiders, but it rises well above the inside-baseball dangers of such discussions. They have interesting things to say about the history, about Kelly’s philosophical questions, and about the special dangers of the present moment.

I’ll give the last word to Kelly, whose final question, sadly, suggests an answer in the negative:

The correspondents agreed this was a strange time. I think so too. But it is possible that all of us are wrong: that this is not a special moment, but another moment of change and turmoil in an endless series. We think our era is unique, but we are – like most of those before us – wrong. In that case, Albanese Labor will be graded the way most Labor governments are: did it contribute to the improvement of Australian society in ways that are permanent and important?


I am a man of settler heritage who has been alive for almost a third of the time elapsed since Arthur Phillip claimed this continent for the British crown. I wrote this blog post on the land of Gadigal and Wangal of teh Eora Nation, where the nights are lasting longer but the days are still warm. I acknowledge their Elders past and present and welcome any First Nations readers of the blog.


My blogging practice is to focus on the page that coincides with my age, currently 79. When, as in this Quarterly Essay, there is no page 79, I revert to ’47, my birth year.