Bert Kelly, The Bulletin, July 24, 1984, p. 150.

Melbourne people breathe a purer air than the rest of us and they always know best. I first became aware of this when, as a member of the Forster committee trying to work out a blueprint for the agricultural development of the Northern Territory, I noticed that the most urgent admonitions to get cracking came from Melbourne. The further people are from problems, the easier they are to solve. Distance does lend enchantment to the view.

The Melbourne Age, too, has a special place in heaven and as a member of parliament I was taught to regard it with veneration — as did many other people, particularly in Canberra. Authority and rectitude used to ooze out of it with effortless ease but this veneration seems lately to have gone to its head and it now appears to go round seeking out people with whom it disagrees and hitting them with its halo.

The Age has been an enthusiastic supporter of the Aborigines’ land rights cause. You would expect this — there being few Aborigines in Melbourne or, indeed, in Victoria. It has pursued this cause with the same singlemindedness as it did that of tariff protection years ago. I do not complain about this singlemindedness but I would have expected that a paper which so often and so unctuously parades its moral superiority at least to be fair.

Let me give an example of what I mean: Hugh Morgan, of Western Mining, made a speech to the Mining Council on May 4 in which he asked that mining be regarded as a responsible and important industry. In the course of this speech, he said that the case for Aboriginal land rights depended in the end on what we would regard as their mystical — almost religious — attachment to their land. Then he said that, if Aboriginal beliefs about land rights were to be respected, the same respect should be paid to other mystical Aboriginal beliefs such as their sacred duty to kill any of their brethren who even unwittingly broke some traditional Aboriginal law.

Then Morgan went on to make what I thought was a very proper plea for the same respect to be paid to the religious beliefs of white people, even miners.

I quote from his speech: “Many of you will be pleased to learn that our orebodies definitely have a place in orthodox Christian doctrine. Just as Christian ceremonies such as blessing the fishing fleet or blessing the plough are well established both in Christian tradition and orthodox theology, so our orebodies — and the equipment we use to mine them — are part of the divine order.”

I can see nothing wrong with that. As an MP, I attended many ceremonies in which we either asked the Almighty to make us fruitful or to thank Him (or Her) for so doing. Indeed, Sir Joh intercedes directly for Queensland in times of drought. Clearly, it must be the right way to behave.

However, The Age headlines next day screamed “GOD’S ON OUR SIDE SAYS MINING CHIEF” and the report said: “Mr Morgan said that, while miners were not noted for their piety, ‘many of you will be pleased to know that mineral deposits had a place in Christian orthodoxy and mining equipment was part of the divine order’.”

To quote Morgan selectively in this way, leaving out all references to blessing the plough or the fishing fleets, seems quite wrong to me. There are other examples of what I regard as biased reporting, but lack of space precludes my using them.

I have always been taught to regard the ideal of the freedom of the press with respect, but it gets harder all the time. Indeed, I find myself increasingly in agreement with Peter Dickinson who wrote the following poem for Punch. For the benefit of those of you who, like me, are not culture vultures, I inform you that — in scene 2, act 2 of The Tempest — Stephano who had been washed ashore after shipwreck on a butt of wine blundered, while very drunk, into Caliban who was part man and part beast of strange shape indeed and gave off a fish-like smell.

Stephano quickly saw the financial advantages in taking the beast home to sell to the emperor or to exhibit at side-shows. The poem reads:

A most delicate monster

I had a vision of the British press.
Ah, broad and furrowed brow, far-seeing eyes!
Ah, tongue how eloquent! Ah, thoughts how wise!
Ah, large, warm heart to comfort in distress!
Ah, ears attuned to every whisp —
Ah yes,
As that reminded me with some surprise,
Could such a creature stoop to not-quite-lies,
To rumour, scandal, and the prurient guess?
No need to stoop, for (like that curious beast
Found by drunk Stephano on Prospero’s isle)
Out of its hinder parts it spoke most vile,
And, like that monster, on the air released
A very ancient and fish-like smell.
Stephano, too thought that the beast would sell.

I do not think for a moment that it was the money The Age was after; it was just peddling its line.