Friday, March 28, 2025

What is the True Value of Work?

I wrote the following piece after a speech given by Australia's Reserve Bank deputy governor that unemployment needed to rise in order to keep inflation down. The piece was submitted to Melbourne's Age and the Guardian, but was not accepted for publication. I still think it's a pretty good piece, so publish it here below.


Recent hand wringing over interest rates has given us a peek at how the unemployment sausage is made. When inflation is too high, interest rates are raised, thus reducing demand in the economy and increasing unemployment. (Interest rate hikes have lifted unemployment from 3.5% to a current 4.1%). There is a sweet spot in this balancing act, officially called the “non-accelerating inflation rate of unemployment”, or NAIRU for short. It’s where unemployment is not too low to put pressure on inflation, but not too high that the economy is slipping into recession. The RBA currently guesses everything is just right at an unemployment figure of 4.5%. Zero percent unemployment, surprisingly, is not really full employment. Full employment is how much the economy can bear without causing inflation. 

This all begs the question, should the unemployed somehow be reclassified as essential workers? While for decades it has been received wisdom to think of dole recipients as a drag on the community, the opposite may be true. 


I confess to having been unemployed for a period in the early nineties, during what then treasurer Paul Keating described as the “recession we had to have”. Unemployment hit eleven percent. No one thanked me for being one of the government’s foot soldiers, bravely holding the nation’s precarious economy together. In fact, I experienced the opposite. I saw my stocks plummet to junk bond status when I told a real estate agent I was unemployed. 


Unemployment, it could be argued, is in the eye of the beholder. In anthropologist David Graeber’s book, Bullshit Jobs, he posits the theory that John Maynard Keynes’ 1930s prediction that automation would usher in a 15 hour work week has largely come to pass. Graeber speculates that modern economies now create fake jobs consisting of useless busywork.  “Automation did, in fact, lead to mass unemployment,” he writes. “We have simply stopped the gap by adding dummy jobs that are effectively made up.” The book quotes testimonials from people who have found themselves in mind numbingly pointless jobs and cites a British pollster who found that 37% of respondents thought their jobs made no meaningful contribution to the world.


My own career has had its fair share of these dummy jobs. In the public service I sat in a dingy  room reading D.H. Lawrence because there was nothing to do. When I landed a job at a prestigious university, I was thrilled. But it soon became clear there was also nothing to do and I was sent on long walks through the university to kill time. Over a decade in the world of finance did require real work, but it also had its fair share of bread and circuses. There were training sessions where the team building activities seemed more appropriate for a kindergarten, not a room full of adults; productivity initiatives involving dress ups, live performances and spinning fortune wheels; and propaganda sessions where the company fed us gobbledygook about its mission and performance. 


If the “Bullshit Jobs'' thesis holds true, could this problem also plague our executive class? Recent high profile cases have called into question the performance of some of  the country’s top CEOs. Prime minister Anthony Albanese called one recent CEO’s performance a “shocker” and “epic fail.” But if this is failing, it’s failing upwards, with huge paypackets and eye watering bonuses. 


Our business elites should perhaps be considered more of a ceremonial class, there to give  confidence that the economy is being guided by the hand of men and women of supernatural ability. The tangible output of this class, beyond giving speeches, enjoying long lunches and commenting on market conditions, is hard to quantify. A baker at the end of the day produces a loaf of bread. But could Alan Joyce fix a plane engine?


How do we decide what work is valuable or not valuable? Does a big paycheck really mean you’re a useful member of the community? Could voluntary or unpaid work be more important? In Australia, unpaid work, performed mostly by women, is valued in the hundreds of billions per year. A women’s strike would bring the nation screeching to a halt. Disgruntled taxpayers may wonder how the unemployed are spending their days. Most likely they are busy scavenging cheap food, making repairs to desiccated clothing and running to appointments on foot, to save the train fare. They are not partying. 


Politicians have made a meal of demonising the unemployed. Paradoxically no government or central bank really wants full employment, as it would set off inflation. A lot of time and energy are wasted in dancing around this truth. Instead we opt for dubious work for the dole schemes and Robodebt scandals. Surely we could better spend our efforts by accepting reality, raising the dole to a living wage and creating a more ennobling nomenclature for those given the unenviable job of balancing the nation’s economy. 


by Chris Saliba - April 2025


Monday, March 10, 2025

Weights and Measures, by Joseph Roth

A frustrated minor official finds he is not as perfect as he thought he was

In the District of Zlotogrod, during the last years of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Anselm Eibenschütz is appointed the inspector of weights and measures. His job is to make sure traders are dealing fairly with the public and not short changing or acting otherwise fraudulently. Eibenschütz is not a particularly happy man. He has left the regimented life of the army, which he found quite to his liking, as it took away the need for him to really make choices in life, and now finds himself dealing with petty, small town problems. Everyone, it seems, is an adversary. His wife doesn’t help matters, as she is mostly indifferent to Eibenschütz's plight. She makes things even worse when she embarks upon an affair and becomes pregnant to another man. 

Meanwhile, in the village of Szwaby, Eibenschütz comes across tavern owner Leibusch Jadlowker as a part of his travels. Jadlowker is a dark, shadowy figure with a dodgy past and another dangerous adversary to deal with. A complicating factor to this animosity is Jadlowker’s mistress, Euphemia Nikitsch. Despite Eibenschütz’s high moral standing, he starts up an affair with Euphemia and soon becomes obsessed, causing him to pursue a path that is hypocritical and possibly compromising. 

Joseph Roth (1894 - 1939) was an Austrian-Jewish journalist and novelist famous for his novel 
The Radetzky MarchWeights and Measures is a later novel by Roth, now re-published by Pushkin Press from a 1982 translation by David Le Vay. Despite the novel’s cast of rogues and chancers, cretins and fraudsters, Weights and Measures is a slyly humorous look at the depravity of human nature, written in a crisp, simple prose. The book is set out in a series of episodic misadventures, with short chapters, and the action keeps at a pleasant clip, never boring the reader for a minute. 

The upstanding Eibenschütz, his constant frustrations and self-deceits, acts as a mirror for the reader, making us confront our own ambitions and unpalatable secret desires. A clever and concise study of life’s darker undercurrents.

Weights and Measures, by Joseph Roth. Published by Pushkin. $24.99

FEB 25

Confessions of a Sociopath, by M.E. Thomas

A clinically diagnosed sociopath tells her story

Confessions of a Sociopath by M.E. Thomas (a pseudonym, as you can imagine), was first published in 2012 and is now re-issued in a Picador paperback. Thomas, whose clinical diagnosis as a sociopath prefaces the book, wrote Confessions as part explainer of her condition and part plea (this may sound strange) for more tolerance of sociopaths. 

Despite the alarming subject matter, and the author’s openness about her abilities to manipulate and ruin people (it is worth noting here that she is non-criminal and non violent), 
Confessions makes for a gripping, insightful and often darkly amusing read. M.E. Thomas writes with wit and precision about the psychology of sociopaths and examines whether they are born or made. The author’s work as a lawyer and academic comes through in her razor sharp analysis and highly original view of the world. She also makes many interesting references to literature and science when making her points, discussing sociopathic characters in the great novels.

Sociopaths are renowned for their lack of remorse, guilt or negative emotions. As M.E. Thomas slices and dices how we all behave - our guilt, vulnerabilities and weak spots, also our aggressions and tendency to try and manipulate the world - it feels like a confronting therapy session. Strangely enough, Confessions could almost double as a self-help manual. The book prompts self-analysis.

It does seem unlikely that a sociopath should write a book and essentially give the game away  (sociopaths like to work in the shadows.) But Thomas hopes that by explaining her condition, that sociopaths might be able to live more in the open. She lists all the types of work that sociopaths are good at, such as the law and high level business. They see more clearly because they’re less likely to get emotionally involved. She also argues (backing this up with research) that sociopaths brought up in good homes, given structure and an education framework, are less likely to offend criminally. (Thomas was brought up Christian and still practices her faith, writing that religion gives her a rulebook that keeps her out of trouble.)

Confessions of a Sociopath
 is an unforgettable book. A true original. It rips the mask off the world, showing a side we rarely contemplate in nuanced detail. A must read.

Confessions of a Sociopath, by M.E. Thomas. Published by Picador. $24.99

FEB 25

The Wisest Fool: The Lavish Life of James VI and I, by Steven Veerapen

A new biography of King James VI and I. 

King James VI and I (1566 - 1625) is perhaps best known as the successor to Queen Elizabeth.  His mother was the ill fated Mary Queen of Scots, a mother he barely knew, who was sent to the block to be executed. She wore a wig to the event, and when the executioner lifted her dismembered head up by the hair, it fell and hit the ground, revealing a close cropped grey crown. His most lasting fame rests with the official translation of the Bible, which is still read widely today as the King James Bible. 

Historian and novelist Steven Veerapen has written a spirited and often juicy biography of the king, somewhat trying to rescue his reputation as a coward, fearful of war, while also striving to paint a truthful portrait of his reign. They were politically tumultuous times when James was established on the Scottish throne, with interminable wars raging between Catholics and Protestants. Staying on the right side of these hostilities was a high wire act. Many participants came to a grisly end. When reading about this period, it’s always a shock to realise how young the key players were. 

King James VI and I loathed war and conflict, and so did his best to stay out of harm’s way. In this he was fairly successful, however he could have played the politics better. He spent lavishly and was always in debt, and he had a strong distaste for his subjects, avoiding them at all costs. He could have made his reign run a bit smoother if he had paid more attention to public opinion, and run his finances more responsibly. He was also overly fond of alcohol and rich foods. One wonders if these vices contributed to his death at the age of 58. 

The King’s lovelife is examined in considerable detail. He sired nine children with his wife, Anne of Denmark, with many of them dying young. He also kept a string of male lovers on the side, and showed little interest in keeping his affections for them private. (Probably a hard feat to achieve, as a King’s life had little to no privacy.)

An entertaining and instructive history covering the reigns of three fascinating royals, whose lives intertwined in all sorts of fraught and complicated ways  - Mary Queen of Scots, Queen Elizabeth and King James VI and I. 

The Wisest Fool: The Lavish Life of James VI and I, by Steven Veerapen. Published by Birlinn. $39.99

FEB 25

Mean Streak: A Moral Vacuum, a Dodgy Debt Generator and a Multi-billion Dollar Government Shake Down, by Rick Morton

How an illegal government program slowly unravelled.

Robodebt was a harebrained scheme hatched by a group of public servants hoping to make happy their political masters. Welfare recipients have never been popular with the electorate, easily demonised, and so here was some low hanging fruit. The scheme, as imagined, would reap a whirlwind of budget savings by recouping badly guesstimated debts from those unlucky enough to receive a letter. The problem was it was illegal from the get-go, and blind Freddy could have told you so. Debts were worked out with a fundamentally incorrect model, by trying to squeeze the square of tax office data into the circle of the fortnightly centrelink payment system. 

Rick Morton tells the sorry story of senior public servants watering down or hiding legal advice and their political masters who didn’t want to ask too many questions, preferring to pursue a tough on welfare cheats rhetoric. 
Mean Streak provides a valuable document of how disastrous public policy is made, with a jaw dropping cast of bunglers, sycophants, careerists and cowards. It was only for the heroic acts of a few who took the Commonwealth to court that the system collapsed. A cautionary tale of government overreach.

Mean Streak: A Moral Vacuum, a Dodgy Debt Generator and a Multi-billion Dollar Government Shake Down, by Rick Morton. Published by Fourth Estate. $35.99

JAN 25

Puggleton Park, by Deanna Kizis

Peril for Penelope the Pug when she gets lost in Puggleton Park. Can she find her way home again?

“It’s a truth everyone knows that all dogs need a forever home,” opens Puggleton Park, the first in a series of Regency-era chapter books for emerging readers. Poor Penelope the Pug has found herself lost in Puggleton Park. Whilst relaxing with her Lady, she eyed a dreadful squirrel and decided to chase it. Bad move. Now she finds herself a stray. All is not lost, however. Good fortune manifests in the person of the kindly Lady Diggleton, who takes it upon herself to find Penelope’s Lady. This turns out to be no easy task, further complicated by Lady Diggleton’s friend Lady Picklebottom, who finds stray dogs quite horrid and wants Penelope sent away. Can Penelope be reunited with her Lady and live happily ever after?

Deanna Kizis (with delightful illustrations by Hannah Peck) has written a fun and often funny take on the Jane Austen classics. The story is full of society balls, high teas and proper decorum (Penelope is put through her paces by the fastidious dog trainer Mr Weeby), ending with a surprise disclosure by the dowager Lady Foxwise. A spirited and amusing frolic that doesn’t disappoint.

Readers 7-10 years

Puggleton Park, by Deanna Kizis. Published by Penguin. $11.99

JAN 25

Friday, March 7, 2025

The Most, by Jessica Anthony

A woman sinks into a pool on a warm Autumn day, and refuses to get out.

It’s an unseasonably warm day in November, 1957. Kathleen Beckett, who lives with her husband Virgil and two sons in Newark, Delaware, decides to take a dip in the pool at her apartment block. It’s a slightly odd residence for a young family, as the Acropolis Place is filled with retirees. The apartments overlook the pool and resident busy bodies and curtain twitchers keep a vigilant eye on Kathleen, whose behaviour is considered odd. No one ever uses the pool, and besides it’s November, not exactly the warmest month of the year. When her husband finds her in the pool he becomes alarmed and tries to coax her out. But she insists she’s fine; actually, she’s never felt better. 

​ As Virgil returns again and again to the pool, and the day progresses, the reader is given the backstories for both husband and wife. Kathleen had been a tennis ace in her youth and had enjoyed a romantic affair with Billy Blasko, a Jewish refugee from Czechoslovakia. The relationship is not only sensual and heartfelt; Billy gives Kathleen intellectual books which she attempts to read. Virgil, on the other hand, is pretty much a failed insurance broker who is trying to escape his boozy past. 

As the day comes to an end, with Kathleen’s soaking in by now cold water, the couple must decide if they can survive their secret pasts and come together as a couple.

The Most
 reads very much like classic 1950’s American fiction - think Richard Yates (Revolutionary Road), John Cheever (recall his famous short story “The Swimmer”) and Sylvia Plath. Jessica Anthony uses a similar technique to Plath’s Bell Jar in creating an atmosphere of looming dread in the recurring descriptions of the Sputnik 2, launched on the day the story takes place, and harboring the Soviet dog Laika that everyone knew was sure to die in space. (Plath opens The Bell Jar with her famous description of the execution of the Rosenbergs). There are also subtle touches of humour in the character of Colson (“Coke”), Virgil’s father, easily an escapee from a Cormac McCarthy novel and a portrait of over-the-top American masculinity.

Highly enjoyable. A crisply written portrait of American life, one that seems perfect and sunny on the surface, but that harbors darkness and sadness underneath.

The Most, by Jessica Anthony. Published by Doubleday. $29.99

DEC 24