Former PM Scott Morrison
Former PM Scott Morrison (Image: AAP/Private Media)

Raymond Veitch writes: The report on this disgusting example of miscreant government practice (“Robodebt: illegal, unfair, cruel and the product of Morrison falsehoods”) does not address the elephant in the room: the pernicious and insidious politicisation of the senior levels of the public service.

Gone are the days of “fearless and independent” advice to ministers. A department head who does not tell the minister what he or she wants to hear will not last long, and department heads know it. It’s so common there’s even a term for it – it’s known as “a career-threatening event” — which tells you all you need to know.

A journalistic project to chart the consequences of this politicisation of the public service would be worthwhile. Unless the problem is addressed there’s no reason to suppose that such injustice will not be repeated.

Joe Marschall writes: The arrogance of the post-conservatives and the silence (at best) and cooperation (at worst) of the centre and left has led to shameless situations such as the dehumanising treatment and perpetual jailing of refugees and truth tellers such as Julian Assange; to the denial of scientific evidence of climate change; to the denial of housing to burgeoning populations; to the utter failures to hold thieving banks to account; allowing corporates to incorporate where tax rates are non-existent; harassing small wage earners/taxpayers while looking away from the big cheats; providing fossil fuel providers with multibillion-dollar subsidies, and much, much more.

Given all the above, there will be almost complete inaction over robodebt other than the wringing of hands, the persecution of one or two small-fry public servants and promises to do better. It’s the moral decay of the so-called liberal democracies which leads to the anger of the dispossessed, the ire of those left behind, and the evils of such populists as Donald Trump.

Fay Jenkins writes: In politics, trust no-one and yell as loud as you can when you see lies and misinformation. And make them pay.

Susan Cartwright writes: I’m a retired registered nurse who worked in jails here in NSW. I knew a young inmate whose crime was driving while his best friend was “surfing” on the back of his car a la Back to the Future-style. His best friend fell and died. He got eight years for manslaughter. It was an accident. 

During robodebt, corrupt and immoral politicians had people brutalised. They left thousands in unconscionable poverty, targeting and tormenting vulnerable Australians. They got “friendly papers” to publish negative articles about the victims to help cover up their crimes. That was no accident. 

If I could, I’d fund a class action to take the perpetrators to civil court. I’d sue them for all I could. Win or lose, I’d ensure the stories of each victim were heard and ensure there were consequences for what has resulted in the shameful deaths of Australians. Go get ’em, Crikey!

Kieran Knowles writes: The damning report of the robodebt royal commission just scratches the surface of soft corruption now entrenched within the public service, where the priority is not on serving the public well, but on keeping the political masters and powerful lobbyists happy. Ethics is replaced by personal gain, integrity by self-interest.

There will be lots of promises, press releases and maybe even some tut-tutting, but the one thing you can guarantee is that this culture of soft corruption is not going to disappear — it is far too much in the interests of governments and powerful lobby groups of all flavours to keep.

John Peel writes: Another nest of vipers uncovered. Not all the same personalities involved, but this is the same mob that considered the National Anti-Corruption Commission (NACC) unnecessary and who now wants us to go nuclear and to vote No in the Voice referendum.

Marcus Barber writes: It’s unusual to see the word “compensation” used to describe what was, at best, a refund on money illegally taken by the Abbott, Turnbull and Morrison governments. No-one was “compensated” for their loss, mental and physical harm, nor for the grieving of loved ones overwhelmed by the brutality of this illegal scheme.

Claire Luckett writes: The closed section of the robodebt report recommends various undisclosed actions, but I hope it’s not just public servants who cop the blame and that politicians will be held accountable too. The whole fiasco was due to governments and politicians — and then to public servants. Unfortunately, some of them bent over backwards to appease politicians so they could keep their jobs. However, it would be totally unfair to prosecute those who carried out the actions insisted on by their political masters without also prosecuting the latter. (Of course, some appalling actions by some public servants earn their sacking.)

Tom Kelsey writes: Sadly, the royal commissioner into the robodebt debacle has exposed only what many of us already knew about Australia and its serious problem relating to corruption. This should be a salient reminder to all of us when we make our choice/s at the ballot box that we should have done our own due diligence regarding the integrity etc of the selected candidate. 

When the candidate expresses a strong desire to contribute to public life then that outcome would not be in the likes of rododebt, the bugging of the East Timor cabinet room, the lies and trashing of governance, and the political and other trails of destruction we have witnessed in the past decade.

Lyne Coombes writes: Robodebt, the real-life film noir episode of Utopia. This disastrous, cruel and unlawful scheme destroyed the lives of many fragile people on the lowest income scale. Warnings about its legality were deliberately ignored. The public backlash forced a rethink. Those who instigated and those who had carriage of this scheme have a lot to answer for. Let the punishment fit the crime. Heads must roll.

Michael Shaskey writes: While the robodebt royal commission report may have pulled the consequences of off-the-rails policy implementation by doctrinaire ministers and excessively compliant public servants into sharp focus, the continuing nightmare of regular dealings with Centrelink remains largely unexplored. It is a fortnightly reality for many and a source of real distress for hundreds of thousands still required to deal with the sharp end of the same culture that spawned robodebt — still flourishing, still hurting.

The Centrelink app is a marvel of poor design that cannot deal with the complexities of many positions clients find themselves in, yet it combines data of the most personal types — taxation, medical and relationship, all of which are dynamic and complex — and comes to sometimes erroneous conclusions. 

The overarching question that the government should address as part of the robodebt wash-up is this: does Centrelink in its present form preclude future robodebts, or the possibility that Centrelink is, even now, making decisions that are illegal, unfounded and damaging? In light of robodebt, if Centrelink is to continue without reform, the government should be ready to explain how allowing the information torrent that Centrelink feeds on satisfies present expectations of client privacy and official accountability, let alone effective policy implementation. 

In reality, Centrelink has had its day and robodebt demonstrates that 19th-century attitudes to income support should not underpin social provision in the new millennium. The poorhouse view of welfare as charity for the undeserving poor does not cut it as an organisational value now. There are better, fairer and probably cheaper ways of providing income at times in Australians’ lives when they cannot themselves. A universal basic income is one. It would remove the objectionable aspects of administering “benefits”, and acknowledge an adequate income as a right of citizenship.

Tim Stephens writes: I very much doubt we will ever see the end of the “welfare cheat” myth (“The ‘dole-bludger’ myth can die now — the real cheats were highly paid public servants”). It has been well and truly sewn into the very fabric of our society. They are seemingly needed to maintain our economic system.

The problem with the royal commission’s findings is that they will disappear in the news cycle, and the truly horrid individuals responsible will generally escape justice. Labor will jump up and down but maintaining unemployment benefits way below the poverty line shows that it too thinks the unemployed are undeserving.

It is so easy to demonise the less fortunate as they have no real voice, whereas the vermin who created robodebt have already been on the airwaves crying their innocence, even with overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Maybe if welfare payments were sufficient to enable people to live dignified lives they would be seen in a better light. Maybe we should be looking to the example of Nordic countries to see what a difference a system based on fairness and equality can do.

Nicola McKay writes: We will absolutely not see the end of the welfare cheat myth. In a country chock-full of dodgy, grubby self-interest, the “dole bludger” is the perfect foil for distraction and diversion. The quintessential scapegoat.

Too many people of dubious commercial integrity willingly point to “welfare cheats” they have heard about at suburban barbecues as a way to justify their own mendacity. Far too many politicians win easy votes by screaming “dole bludger” at the middle class, who are too consumed with their own disappearing standards of living to care about “the other”.

For politicians and public servants to truly lean into their power they must personify those controlled by that power. And there is no other cohort in Australia — not single parents, not teenage mothers, not drug users, not the unwell nor the aged — who are so easy to target. I fear the experience for many of the welfare system over the pandemic will fade quickly as the population moves to paper over the learnings from COVID with larger vehicles and longer trips to Bali.