Photo by charlesdeluvio on Unsplash
Imagine you’re getting married and you’re writing your vows and you’re thinking about why your beloved is just so amazing. Why they are the one for you.
To prepare, you create a list of virtues.
Your beloved is kind, fair and acts with a deep integrity; is truthful and courageous; is respectful, kind and gentle. Your beloved takes responsibility for what they do and say. While being authentic to their own person, they help you become better. When you are down, they wrap you safe and lift you up. Your beloved is constructive and positive. They appeal to the better angels of your nature.
It is true that your beloved is not as objectively funny as you are, but that is no disqualification in your eyes.
In all their dealings they act in good faith, which is a concept, part legal, part ethical. According to the Federal Court, good faith is about acting honestly and with a fidelity to a bargain. Good faith contains an obligation to not undermine an agreement.
In short, good faith suggests a coherence between word and deed, and that our word is underpinned by proper intentions. I not only do what I say, but what I do is moderated by my understanding of the impact of my actions on others. I could agree, for example, to steal, loot, pillage and burn, and then act in such a way and my words and deeds would perfectly align. Nobody, however, would consider me to be acting in good faith.
Good faith is implied by public service values, which in Australia, holds that officers are to be impartial, accountable, respectful, and ethical.
And so, we turn to examine the politics of the day and the behaviour of politicians from the greatest to the meanest.
Under tyrannical rule, where a people are led by a crazed dictator, good faith does not matter. Government is run by fiat and whim; acts are capricious; citizens are driven by fear and loathing and are whipped into obedience. Australia, however, is still democratic and liberal – one of the few such nations on the planet – and our political leaders are still inconvenienced by the ballot box and by the law.
Good faith action on their part is necessary because it enables us as citizens to assess the worth of what they propose to do. Good faith action on their part underpins well-informed decisions on ours.
Secondly, good faith action is important. It implies that politicians say what they have done and why. They act in a way that does not sacrifice the legitimate interests of those whom they govern to their own greed for political survival and success.
A culture of good faith, therefore, is necessary if government is to act on evidence and fact rather than expedient and self-interested calculation. It is necessary if government is to serve rather than slobber at a banquet and trough of their own making.
This culture underpins the practice of good governance and enables voters to fairly assess the proposals of governments to evaluate how they have performed.
We have come to the point now where we face a real conundrum.
Because the practice in democracies – let alone nations like North Korea – differs from this ideal. In Truth and Politics, Hannah Arendt observed that:
‘No one has ever doubted that truth and politics are on rather bad terms with each other, and no one, as far as I know, has ever counted truthfulness among the political virtues. Lies have always been regarded as necessary and justifiable tools not only of the politician’s or the demagogue’s but also of the statesman’s trade.’
The good faith of leaders is merely one of the many factors that voters account for when making decisions. It seems that voters care for good faith dealings but, – because we have come to accept the opposite of good faith in general political life and because this opposition is celebrated and justified by partisan comment –, we are not altogether fussed when we are deceived.
Our own allegiance, for example, to care for the truth on the part of politicians is not always rock solid. Our love of car parks and sporting facilities are examples of the sort of baubles that politicians successfully dangle before voters. And distracted by the glitter and the fireworks, voters allow themselves to be suckered.
So, the issue becomes one of ensuring that politicians act properly and in good faith.
The issue is one of what we can do to change culture and the course of events. And this is not easy. Politics is not part of our normal lives; time is short; we’re exhausted after long days in lockdown.
A first step is a small one and it is simply to become engaged just a little bit more. Don’t abandon the field to smarmy political professionals who traduce hope and who trade in fear.
A second step would be to focus on what creates value in life rather than what we can merely consume. If possible, we consider where we want to be in 5 or 10 years rather than months ahead.
A third step is to take advantage of elections, ignore the blandishments of the major parties and channel our vote to a good faith independent. This doesn’t mean that we should vote for Clive Palmer or Craig Kelly, but rather that we should not give an unthinking vote to an unthinking incumbent.
Because political donations corrupt political culture, a fourth step would be to support measures that prevent politicians from receiving donations from unknown places or people.
Finally, we should not read or view anything produced by News Corp. When we talk about good faith action, this principle becomes self-evident.
We’d appreciate your suggestions on how we can better hold governments to account. Let us know by emailing us at service@ethoscrs.com.au.