The Coalition’s internal decay has left Australia without an effective opposition at a time when scrutiny, debate and accountability are more necessary than ever. The result is not just a party in trouble, but a democratic failure.

The piteous state in which the Liberal Party, its leadership and the coalition generally find themselves might invite only derision. Its troubles are of its own making and an apparently suicidal impulse.

It has very limited prospect of winning back power in even the medium term, and when it does, very few, if any, of the current generation of elected members will be a part of the team, let alone a leader of it. The charitable and the merciful might be disposed to give the sorry crew privacy for their major bloodletting.

But it is necessarily a public matter because it conceals a major public tragedy. There was never a time in which an Australian government required more close and suspicious scrutiny, principled criticism and sensibly advanced and debated alternatives for public policy and programs. The Albanese government has not been getting this, at least not from the Liberal and National Parties, or, even, for that matter, from One Nation.

It is not merely a matter of failing to hold the government to account over its policies, programs and expenditure. Critical questions of various forms of executive action would benefit the nation – such as, say, its invitation to the Israeli president to Australia in the name of helping create social harmony, or its provision of a platform to advance the notion that any criticism of Israel is antisemitic.

The opposition is, of course, far more pro-Israeli than even the government, and far more hostile to protest. Most of the questioning has been one-sided and not very critical, apart from questions coming from the crossbench. The opposition has seemed constrained even in going to the limits that it could have, because of its preoccupation with its own internal conflicts.

Likewise, the opposition has seemed limited in its capacity to ask questions across the range of government. Under Sussan Ley, for example, senior frontbencher Angus Taylor had asked only three questions about defence policy since the last election, even though both the defence procurement environment, and Australia’s security and strategic environment have been very important issues over the past year. It was, of course, much the same when Taylor, as shadow treasurer under Peter Dutton, seemed unable to put pressure on Jim Chalmers even at a time when energy bills and the cost of living were seen as major election issues.

In one sense government ministers might be very comfortable indeed with shallow and inadequate questions, and a failure to bring key events and policy issues up for debate. But that’s a short-term view. The performance of ministers and the standing of government generally is enhanced when an effective opposition has it on its toes. Ministers discover that they must know their portfolio, and details of decisions made. Prime ministers discover that ministers who know their stuff and are enthusiastic advocates for the underlying policies are far more effective political operators than those who have memorised a few jokes about the character and abilities of their opposite numbers and rely on Question Time briefs prepared by bureaucrats. They must put more emphasis on explaining, on defending and selling policy. They also must do far more to anticipate intelligent criticisms of the policy, and, if needs be, adapt it in advance. The all too familiar styles of blocking questions, finding distractions or blather to see out the time allowed for a question simply does not work so well.

The better ministers, indeed, volunteer information and some debating points. They invite a conversation and express a willingness to explain and justify. They do not make a point of minimal disclosure. Instead, they are celebrating what they will call the government’s success.

The most gifted ministers, indeed, and there have always been some, use being called to account as an occasion to be reasonably frank, and to admit the obvious, if apparently unsayable. Such as, that alternatives were considered, but the path taken was preferred for a particular reason. A good deal of Question Time, and other opportunities for being held to account seems, wrongly, to be regarded by combative politicians as occasions for determined and stubborn efforts to insist that only one approach was possible and worth following, and that anyone suggesting an alternative was either a fool or a knave. It doesn’t impress members of the public.

Some people seem to think that a minister’s being called to account means being required to resign because of a mistake, or failure to act. Ministerial responsibility is certainly one part of the process. But it can mean no more than being required to explain, to give the facts, to describe the circumstances. A senior public servant once described it as involving occasions where there was sweat on the upper lip.

Australia needs effective opposition. We also need effective means by which, in this complex age, we can obtain information about the working of government policies and programs. The more all-powerful a government is, the greater the temptation to treat members of the public as outsiders to the process of devising, reviewing and explaining policy. And the more that ministers appear to think that public curiosity – their right to know – can be satisfied by public relations material, short on detail, long on tendentious claims, and often making claims about cost, or personal or public benefit that are highly contestable.

If One Nation is to play a greater role in politics and in holding politicians to account, they will have to lift their game as well. Probably in ways that will simultaneously hold them to account.

They can, from the sidelines concentrate only on a few issues, and then mostly only at the slogan level of detail. But if they believe themselves part of an effort to be an alternative party of government (presumably in coalition with the Liberals and the Nationals), they will have to expose and outline more of their ideas, and some details about the way they would seek to put them into action.

It is time that the opposition was itself held to account for its failures in being effective. It should not be only at election time that leaders give an outline of their general philosophy or broad approach to issues. Some of those who have served in government before have exposed little about their broad philosophy, even as they are identified with one faction or another. Many have served without trace, never identified with any policy and often missing in action when they should have had some contribution to make.

But, as any number of their own critics comment, they have made much of the story of the past year about personality struggles within their team. They have been looking inside rather than out. They have been narrow, rather than broad. Others have seemed so focused on their miserable personality struggles, in some cases disguised as ideological ones, that they are making no impression at all.

The fear of exposure on the floor of parliament does not terrify the Albanese government. It should.

Anthony Albanese is not to be blamed for having an overwhelming majority in the House of Representatives. It is not really his fault that the opposition seems to lack the will to oppose anything much. Or to experience what Neville Wran once called applying the blowtorch to the belly.

Presumably Albo, and ministers, are happy to see their proposals going through without opposition. At most there will be some loaded questions, often drafted from newspaper reports, and unable to penetrate ministerial complacency. And quibbles and points of order scarcely up to high school standards. And the seeming incapacity of the opposition to mount and sustain a serious debate on questions of strategy or performance, based on a close understanding of the way governments work.

Many in the opposition have ministerial experience from the Abbott, Turnbull and Morrison days, but its seems that they left most of the practical analysis and preparation up to public servants, or to minders who have moved on.

It may be a little more difficult in the senate, but the government’s program usually proceeds, if the lobbies have been busy, by horse-trading and compromise rather than actual debate, whether in public or behind closed doors. The senate, generally, is no more a forum of ideas or review than the lower house, other than on a narrow range of social legislation. The committee system, which was at its best about 50 years ago, is no longer producing much in the way of thoughtful bipartisan reports on general problems of government, new approaches to new issues, or reviews of areas of administration where there have been problems.

The opposition has allowed the public to be shut out of the AUKUS debate and national security debates. It is far more secretive than the UK and US governments.

The starting point on being held to account seems to be that some important areas are almost entirely free from scrutiny. In bipartisan spirit the public is told the absolute minimum about AUKUS. Even less is said in parliament about national security. This does not mean that the public does not know about them. It is just that ministers and public servants, the supposed stewards of such policies avoid giving explanation, details, or even any sort of sophisticated advocacy. Much of what the media write about in this field comes from information freely available from our AUKUS partners in London and Washington.

In fact, much of the machinery of government, including decisions coming through cabinet or the prime minister’s office, and matters coming before the cabinet expenditure review committee is wrapped up in secrecy. The government is not very keen on any sort of independent external review of programs or proposals, other than by trusted and tame former members of the inner circle, writing confidentially.

Albanese is addicted to secrecy and non-disclosure, and his version of public consultation is restricted to closed meetings with vested interests (known as “stakeholders”) rather than members of the public, the academy, or public interest lobbies.

Modern government has been getting unprecedented access to public relations people, press secretaries, minders, marketing folk and spin doctors, pollsters and advertising advisers. They almost all work subject to political direction, without any commitment to public disclosure, or ethical duty to tell the truth. As this happens, the number of journalists reporting on the business of politics and government is probably a quarter of the number at its peak.

Much of the advocacy and review material coming before the government, even when available, is partisan rather than objective. Where reports are critical of the government, they tend to ignore them or defer any consideration until the heat has gone out of the issue. Public servants, particularly in the Attorney-General’s department (the agency once dedicated to FOI) are working on legislation to further criminalise disclosure of information by bureaucrats, to further restrict access to national security material and to abolish any concept of public interest defences. Australia already has the most oppressive and restrictive national security apparatus and legislation of any of the western democracies and is looking to go further.

Two current classical examples would involve Albanese’s flat refusal to change anything affecting the profits of the gambling industry or the incomes of media moguls. Another would involve the return of rorts and patronage – on a scale at least as bad as in the Morrison era – as a regular incident of ministerial administration, the capture of policy development by party cronies and political donors in the lobbying industry, particularly in relation to discretionary grants and tenders, or “landmark” new policies associated with the future made in Australia scheme.

All of these, including defence procurements and consultancies under the AUKUS scheme, revivals of forms of Robodebt, and revivals of marginal seats grants are Albanese government scandals in waiting. None are likely to be reined in by the almost paralysed anti-corruption commission, or by “reforms” in public administration supposedly implemented after the fall of the Morrison government.

The government’s capacity to conceal maladministration and its own misfeasance is being actively enhanced by the defanging of the FOI Act, and the muzzling of most of the watchdogs of parliament, except for the ever-stretched National Audit office.

One would have to go back to the McMahon government of 1972 (I remember it well) to find a government so resistant to explaining what it is doing, or why. It is one of the reasons that that tired and exhausted government fell to Gough Whitlam, who had an entirely different approach to open government.

An effective opposition would be teasing out the information, and embarrassing ministers, especially the prime minister, with his stance. The more so since it is the precise opposite of what he promised the public before the 2022 elections.

Shifting the deck chairs at the coalition may have little effect in bringing forward the day when the public is ready to trust it again. But it will certainly not regain that trust until it has mastered the art of effective opposition.