Life is full of contradictions and in politics that plate is brimming more than a WWE wrestler’s at the all-you-can-eat buffet.
But that presents parents like me — who serve dinner with a side of news — with a quandary.
It seems election promises, like rules, are made to be broken.
But was Anthony Albanese’s wavering commitment to stage three tax cuts a blatant lie or a necessary half-truth?
And what example is it setting for children and political novices?
The fast-paced media cycle (that I’m part of) is partly to blame for often forcing leaders into corners and into policy positions they don’t fully support, abandoning any wriggle room in case of changing circumstances.
Think core versus non-core promises.
John Howard’s “never ever” GST.
Kevin 07’s “rolled gold” pledge on taxpayer-funded ads.
Tony “it’s a levy, not a tax” Abbott.
Mark McGowan’s “gold standard transparency”.
There’s not much room for nuance in a six-second soundbite on national television but honesty is still my preferred policy.
Is it the Prime Minister’s fault for insisting “my word is my bond” or the voters’ fault for demanding absolutes as we try to plan our own budgets and decide which way to vote?
There’s a third factor that has mostly been ignored in the rush to castigate.
The previous Coalition Government had deliberately kicked the can down the road.
Legislating a 10-year tax plan that included tax cuts for its wealthier supporters far beyond the range of a budget’s forward estimates.
Dangling a carrot without knowing if the nation could afford it.
It secured more immediate backbench support for stages one and two.
But stage three was the equivalent of promising our kids they could be whatever they want when they grow up.
Technically possible, and a worthy ambition, but subsequent years’ grades and an evolving jobs market can force us to reassess our career dreams in adulthood.
Circumstances DO change.
I’ve promised play dates that didn’t eventuate and fibbed about going to work to avoid tears when I’m really just heading out for some grown-up conversation.
But most parents know the hypocrite’s oath of ‘do as I say not as I do’ doesn’t work.
Instead, it sets an example of what not to do and results in more painful verbal acrobatics when you get caught out.
Just like politicians, children sometimes lie to get themselves out of trouble.
And both parents and voters need to hold their charges accountable.
Sometimes a tough conversation is lesson enough.
Until the lie becomes a pattern or habit.
Then it’s time for time out.
Voters will judge which category the PM falls into.