John Singleton with Bob Howard, Rip Van Australia (Stanmore: Cassell Australia, 1977), pp. 12-14, under the heading “Apathy”.

The majority of we Australians are apathetic when it comes to politics or social change. We are not apathetic, however, when it comes to complaining about everything that is wrong. And, unfortunately, because of our short sighted preoccupation with results, or immediate gratification, we are easy marks for smooth talking promise-you-anything political con-men.

Not caring about understanding the problems (see Context) and not worrying about the long-term consequences of glib solutions, the average voter’s consciousness and awareness has shrunk to encompass only the immediate moment. This has happened as a result of many different forces. Perhaps the most significant is simple ignorance. The average voter has no detailed knowledge of such things as economics, foreign policy, defence or even the theory of education. Our voting patterns are not determined by knowledge. Either our vote is bought (by a promise that appeals to a special interest) or is cast on the basis of tradition, peer group association, trust, a common sense appraisal of what little we can understand, or the old “he’s got a nice face” routine. (For details of what the democratic process evolves into see Democracy and Bureaucracy.)

Ignorance is also a problem for the more knowledgeable voter, for the very simple reason that no one on the outside of, say, Cabinet, really knows what goes on inside. All we do know is that history is full of examples of politicians lying about their actions and the reasons for them (see History).

A second major force contributing to apathy, arising in part out of ignorance, is the sense of powerlessness that most people have. “What can I do?” As our society has become more complex, the institutions have grown larger, and the power centres have become increasingly far removed from ordinary people. The issues, too, have become far more involved — mainly as a result of errors being institutionalised and compounded over many years, for example, the N.S.W. milk industry or any State public transport commission.

A third force contributing to apathy is disgust, or cynicism. Politicians have been exposed too often as liars and crooks and promises have been broken too often. It is a curious fact that while very few people trust politicians, we still insist on letting them have more and more power in our lives, which makes about as much sense as giving Darcy Dugan the keys to David Jones.

One final contributing force to apathy that is worth mentioning is the conditioning process that we are subjected to as we grow up. Particularly relevant in this regard, is the educational system.

Drawn on the top of a student’s desk, which is, in reality, the prison cell of the captive inmate of the educational institution, was the sketch of a tombstone on the face of which a student had written “In memory of all those who have died waiting for the bell.” This anguished expression of despair, silently drawn during one of the long and seemingly never-ending periods of boredom that all students are subjected to, vividly reveals the nature of the educational system, a system which suffocates, numbs, and in some instances, brings about the death of the mind. It is these innumerable periods of tortuous boredom that turn students into somnambulant robots ready to be led by any assertive individual who grabs a position of power.1

There are many other apathy pressures apart from education — the maze of government regulations, work environments and social attitudes and customs, for example. All of these tend to reinforce the sense of powerlessness that most people feel — the sense of being a small and insignificant number in a powerful and largely incomprehensible game. It leaves a feeling of helpless resignation.

It is in the light of this situation that the motivation behind, and the importance of, all the radical alternative activities becomes apparent. These activities are, among other things, directed at regaining individual control of individual lives, breaking down the impersonal forces of institutions, governments and businesses that so dominate our lives.

Obviously, some of these activities are misguided, but at least they indicate an increasing willingness of people to take responsibility for their lives, rather than sit back in apathetic resignation. And, most importantly, they offer people opportunities to act. They show that changes can be made if enough people get together.

Progress will be slow, but there are many different threads coming together now, that will one day coalesce to form a new direction for this country — for its politics, its culture, its economy. The driving forces behind them are naturally young people, and naturally they are the only future there is.

We can’t afford to be apathetic when we realise that whoever we vote for, a politician always wins.

Footnote

  1. Thomas Johnson, “The Foundation of Freedom,” Reason, April-May, 1971. ↩