A Modest Member of Parliament [Bert Kelly], “How to win votes from birds of passage,” The Australian Financial Review, October 2, 1970, p. 3. Reprinted in Economics Made Easy (Adelaide: Brolga Books, 1982), pp. 21-23, as “Exporting Birds.”

Fred thinks I have gone a bit soft in the head. He suspects that I got this from riding around in black cars in hot weather. He has had a sneaking suspicion about this for some time, but now he has discovered that I am, in part, responsible for preventing the export of budgerigars and other parrots, he thinks all doubt has been removed.

He has found that these parrots are eagerly sought after overseas. He has been told that prices up to $3,000 a pair are obtainable for our birds in other countries. He also knows that many of these birds exist in pest proportions in Australia and that he himself has had a great deal of trouble keeping many of these birds from making a nuisance of themselves on his farm. So the poor simple soul can’t quite see why we are not exporting them and making good money out of it.

When I mentioned this to Mavis she burst into tears. “You are in enough trouble now, dear,” she sobbed, “by expressing scepticism about this sentimental campaign for kangaroos. They may be in pest proportions and ruining your electors’ sheep feed, but the good people of Melbourne love kangaroos and the sweet way they hold their front paws. You have done enough damage to your political career by going against the kangaroo lobby. For goodness sake don’t get yourself involved in this bird business.”

Then she went on to paint a poignant picture of pretty innocent birds cruelly smuggled through Customs in suitcases, the birds often drugged so they would not make a sound and so give themselves away. She embellished this sordid scene by giving the smuggler a foreign accent and a beard. By the time she had finished, I could see myself losing votes in a steady stream so I hurried back to Fred and upbraided him for getting me in such hot water.

Fred however, was quite unrepentant. He pointed out that the only reason these birds were smuggled out in this sordid fashion is that their export is illegal. If it were legal and the trade was under the surveillance of the Customs Department or some other authority, then this kind of cruelty could be prevented.

He went on to draw quite a different picture of two pretty love birds on a padded perch in a gilded cage, being given V.I.P. treatment through Customs, while merino rams enviously watched them. On the aircraft they would be fussed over by anxious hostesses with whom they (if well-trained) could chat happily. They could fly as they have never flown before — and a lot easier. They would probably get champagne with their bird seed for breakfast. And throughout the journey they would be thinking of the luscious life that awaited them, with the knowledge that their only duty would be to procreate their kind in luxurious surroundings, with every anxious encouragement — opportunities Fred has never enjoyed!

They would compare this prospect most favourably with the life they had left behind them, being buffeted by every breeze that blew as they flew anxiously around Fred’s farm, trying to eat his crops, while he stalked them angrily with a shotgun.

When Fred painted this picture I began to see why he thought I had gone soft in the head, as well as in the heart. No one minds chooks having their heads cut off and being exported in that form. No one minds lambs having their throats cut and being exported in that form, and bringing in almost no money at all. But the picture of birds being exported in luxurious comfort at profit to themselves and their owners, brings tears to the eyes of the sentimental citizens of Melbourne. It’s a funny business.

I know that Fred would be altogether against these birds being cruelly treated. But this doesn’t have to happen. In fact, we could make sure it didn’t happen. That being so, for the life of him, Fred can’t see why we can’t take advantage of anyone silly enough to pay $3,000 for a pair of birds which, were they at home, would probably be shot by Fred or eaten by sparrow hawks.

Tomorrow I’m going to the doctor to have my head examined.