Gosh, snouting out the rotters is a rum game

The Honourable Sir Garfield Garlick-Barlick KC, LLB, OAM, ACT Commissioner for the Legal Pondering into Bad-uns, gives us a peek behind the French-pleated curtain at how malfeasance is pursued in Canberra. 

OH, dearest reader, this corruption caper is a rum game. It grieves me terribly, that after five years of seeking out knaves and ne’er-do-wells in the ACT, we have received little in the way of gratitude for our lengthy legal labours. 

Nary a firm handshake in acknowledgement nor a confettied parade down Northbourne Avenue in recognition of our exhaustive examination of every codicil, annexure, enumerated clause and subsection of the Integrity Commission Act 2018 (The Act). 

Some, with sharper tongues and less legal training, have beseeched us to, “stop looking inwards” and to, “get out there and expose the crooks”. But as anyone who has spent an evening poring over “The Australian Guide to Legal Citation” (fourth edition) while pouring a fine cellared red would know, it’s much easier to get things done than to spend time properly fussbudgeting over them. 

Take, for instance, the case with the Canberra Institute of Technology. It was a brisk afternoon some winters ago and Jenkins, one of our juniors, was stoking the fire in the drawing room as we sat in our chesterfields peering over our reading monocles at Part 5.2, Subsection 257 of the act. Before you could say interlocutory application, there was a rap on the windowpane. It had a brusque cadence to it, almost bordering on impertinence. We looked up to see an unkempt post-office-johnny waving a telegram. 

Taking delivery of this infelicitous telegram, we found that it tasked us to investigate an arrangement the CIT had entered into with a mountaineering gentleman. Much discussion ensued and “Corky” Cuthbert suggested we could crack the case with a bit of high-tech malarky he called the “inter-a-ma-net”. Luckily for us, Corky’s sister’s boffin son, Byron, was a whiz with the blighter and was able to roneograph us the whole inter-thingy using some spiffo Gutenberg device. 

Well, where to start? Naturally, before we could ascertain any improper shenanigans, we needed to put together a comprehensive legal dictionary of the terms the said mountaineer was using. 

For instance, what was a “dampened signal interpolation nexus?” Was it worth three million or five million dollars and what was its relevance to a popular hairstyling course? Reaching a legal understanding of these terms proved difficult and eventually required us to hire a dedicated team of systems and complexity thinkers. 

Once we had cracked the CIT code, we then needed to ponder. And then ponder some more. Pondering corruption usually takes us a year or two depending on whether one of the chaps finds a hitherto hidden codicil in the act and we have to stop and ponder that instead.

Then someone, usually a politician, snaps their fingers and we rouse from our pondering. It’s time for hearings! Hearings are where we all get to dress up in our wigs and gowns. It’s great pantomime, with cries of “I put it to you” and “the witness will answer the question”. Of course, after all of that excitement, we often need to have a good lie down. This can take time and may involve wistful reminiscences over cucumber sandwiches. 

Before long, it’s the old snappety-snap of the fingers again and it’s time to write reports! First, an interim report, then a preliminary report, a final report and then a supplementary report. These reports must be long and arduous to read, lest anyone think the matter was looked at pragmatically with an eye to swift justice. 

Once our reports are tabled, it is time to seriously wag the finger. Yes, indeed, and if we find a cove who has behaved in a particularly unsporting manner, they may even receive a stern letter from Bertie “Basher” Barron, written with his angry quill. 

Satisfied that justice has finally been wrestled to the ground, we then retire to the club for celebratory brandy-cobblers. 

So, there it is dear reader, in the proverbial nutshell – a peek behind the French-pleated curtain at how we pursue malfeasance here in Canberra. Now, you’ll excuse me, it’s time for elevenses and my Hansom cab is waiting.

“KEEPING UP THE ACT ” is a satirical column dedicated to poking fun at ACT officialdom.