Greetings from Bhutan: The first time I was teaching leadership in Bhutan, for our end-of-course celebration (held two nights before I did the long climb up to the Tiger’s Nest so I wouldn’t be under the weather), we went to the obligatory pub party, then to the obligatory karaoke session, and then a handful of veterans and others of their ilk took me to the local pub where there was an open mic session.
I have a shocker when I forget the words, so I asked my unsteady colleague to hold my phone while I did a set of INXS’s Never Tear Us Apart and America’s Horse With No Name. The latter has the word ‘ain’t’ in it and apparently songwriter Dewey Bunnell didn’t like the poor grammar, but it worked for the song’s character.
My solo set was recorded, and it wasn’t bad considering I hadn’t played a gig in at least seven years. My Bhutanese colleagues have their own brand of larrikinism which was culturally comfortable. I used the next day as an analogy for the Anzac maxim of ‘work hard, play hard’. (Some years later, my maxim is ‘work hard, shower-bed’. But I digress.)
Teaching in Bhutan is an absolute treat. Today I lectured on leadership from a stage like I was II Duche. Afterwards, my students sat at my feet as I answered their questions like we were in ancient Greece. They soak up knowledge like sponges, not unquestioningly, but respectfully. Such experiences rarely occur back home.
In Bhutan, there is a sense of the common good and of service to one’s country. We still have that in pockets in Australia but what I referred to last year as ‘pocket socialism’ has become mainstream and overtaken liberal democracy’s idea of individualism supported by freedom of speech. It is reflected in the leadership displayed by the leaders of our two major parties. It was obvious in the third leaders’ debate.
There is a post-modern theory of leadership known as ‘authentic leadership’. It has been called out as nonsense because it is not an actual theory. Rather, it is an aspirational model closely aligned with the modern Marxist thought embraced by Labor, the Greens, and the Teals.
A decade ago, Jeffrey Pfeffer, an American business theorist and professor at Stanford, published a book titled Leadership BS: Fixing Workplaces and Careers One Truth at a Time. Pfeffer basically said that authentic leadership was nonsense:
‘People generally want to see and hear only good things about their leaders, so they tend to ignore contradictory evidence and failures.’
That’s what is materialising in Australia for Albo right now. Albo is seen by some as a safe pair of hands while in my opinion he can barely tie his own shoelaces. I can’t see how anyone can support Albanese. Not one part of the figures people throw at me about how our standard of living hasn’t decreased and we aren’t worse off than before is reflected in my wallet or my bank account. All I see is the tub of sliced cheese that cost me $3.99 during the pandemic that subsequently went to $7.99 and is now advertised ‘on special’ for $7.49. We are being taken for mugs and it’s not by the supermarkets.
Regrettably, conservatives have also fallen for the ‘authentic leadership’ trap. They want Dutts to be ‘authentic’ and the polls seem to prove the error of his ways every day. (The polls suggested this about the Voice, too, and we all know what happened then.)
However, and unlike Albo, Dutts is up against the mainstream media (MSM). Listening to left-leaning journos give Albo the win in the third debate, and others avoiding calling it because they are closet lefties, makes it clear to me where the MSM’s loyalties lie.
In such an environment, there is some merit in Dutts not being ‘authentic’ about himself and trying to tone down his strength. But this approach is bleeding conservatives to the right. Anecdotally, the Liberal Party is haemorrhaging badly.
Meanwhile, Albo has done the opposite and has been as floppy as a puppy by delivering an Easter message via his dogs (so he can deny he ever supported Christianity and curl up with his new mates who want him to go harder on Israel). The bloke is such a Beta male it beggars belief that he is preferred Prime Minister when he has destroyed our economy and our culture in such a short time.
If you’ve ever been to Jerusalem, you can feel that it is the centre of the spiritual universe. If you come to Bhutan, you will feel that you are on top of the world. The Messiah complex is compelling in Jerusalem, whereas here in Bhutan one can easily feel compelled to retreat to a Buddhist monastery, even if only for a little while. Especially during this election campaign where I fear for my future under a cloud of Labor-Greens carnage.
The big difference in Bhutan is that people are able to walk the razor’s edge of culture and economics. They do it proudly and with hope, and they don’t need a wet rag like Albo to give it to them.
Bhutan faces many challenges, but Australia plays a significant role in her future, and I am proud of the minor part I get to play. The attitude of the people embraces the past while looking forward to the future.
Australia’s situation reflects a scene in the pre-Woke Disney movie, Remember the Titans, where African American footballer Julius Campbell tells All-American Gary Bertier, ‘Attitude reflects leadership… Captain.’
Campbell exposes the hope and critique inherent in how we judge our political leaders. Of course, there is a pre-Woke sentiment to the fictional Disney movie, but it wasn’t in your face, and it was a celebration of how far the West has come compared to, oh, I dunno, Palestine?
The pre-Woke days prioritised the common good over identity politics-driven individuals doing whatever they want regardless of the social cost.
But when I see more hope for the future in developing nations like Bhutan than in my own country, I am perplexed.
I am proud to contribute what I can to a country that decided almost overnight to become a democracy just a few short years ago. I have many Bhutanese friends here and at home as a result of my time in this palpably spiritual nation.
Yet in Australia, we are so polarised that the idea of the common good has gone out the window as we pretend to be caring, sharing, and harmless. Better to be capable of great violence and refrain rather than be harmless. The former is strength, and the latter is weakness and fantasy. But that is Albo’s MO – nothing to see here, you’ll be fine.
‘Kindness isn’t weakness,’ said Albo in the third debate. Albo, it’s not kind to take our money so you can give it to your mates. It is not kind to deplete our defence force so badly to curry favour with your ideological mates.
At the same time, Dutt’s MO seems to be to placate the wets who end up working for Labor anyway.
Today as I lectured on the social-cultural theory of leaders and leadership, where leadership is in the eye of the beholder, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sympathy for Mr Dutton. He is up against Labor and the Greens, the MSM, the wets in his own party, and now the conservative minor parties who are preferencing Labor, the Greens, and the Teals non-party party over the Coalition.
It’s not a case of cutting off your nose to spite your face. It’s a case of cutting off your own head to teach someone else a lesson because you’re a moron.
Make no mistake, Albo is Whitlam 2.0 but on steroids. In Mr Dutton’s words:
‘The Labor party has spent $20 million in throwing mud and negative ads, and that has an impact, and… I get that but for a lot of Australian families, over the course of the next few days, they’re going to have to make a decision about what’s in their best interest and what’s in our country’s best interest… how can they get their family’s finances sorted out.’
Australians’ attitude to our cultural and economic future reflects the leadership we are experiencing.
After seeing my colleagues in Bhutan proudly struggle to bring this small nation into the modern era without losing its culture, it leaves me bewildered that my own country, with all its wealth and freedom, could have lost its way so badly.
Our attitude does indeed reflect our leadership, and we ain’t got either.
Dr Michael de Percy @FlaneurPolitiq is The Spectator Australia’s Canberra Press Gallery Correspondent. All opinions in this article are the author’s own.