Privatisation: neither very good nor very bad

The era of privatising government-owned businesses is pretty much done and dusted, but two governments have dragged their feet, making opposition to their efforts to complete their privatisation programs a key issue in the Queensland election last week and the NSW election next month.

Voters have always disapproved of privatisation, but that hasn't stopped a lot of it happening. Particularly in recent years, however, voters' doubts have been fed by the dire predictions of those unions whose members fear they will be adversely affected. Let private owners loose and prices to consumers will skyrocket!

So what evidence is there that the prices charged by privatised businesses are higher than those of government-owned businesses? And where's the evidence that privatisation is good for the economy, anyway?

Malcolm Abbott, of Swinburne Business School, and Bruce Cohen, of the Grattan Institute, have conducted a meta-analysis (a study of studies) of the effects of privatisation in Australia, published in the latest issue of the Australian Economic Review.

If you're surprised to learn that most of what could be privatised already has been, and that most of it happened quite a while ago, let me quote their facts and figures.

They estimate that the sale prices of all the privatised businesses since 1987 total $194 billion. The bulk of those sales occurred in the 1990s. The federal government accounted for just over half that total, with Victoria taking a quarter and NSW and Queensland 7 per cent each, with South Australia and Western Australia making up the remaining 8 per cent.

Broken down by industry, communications (mainly Telstra) accounts for a third of the total proceeds, electricity for a quarter, financial services (Commonwealth Bank, state banks and state insurance offices) for 15 per cent, aviation (Qantas, Australian Airlines and many airports) for 9 per cent, gas for 8 per cent and, among the tiddlers, gambling (TABs and lotteries) for 2 per cent.

One thing this list proves is that though many people disapprove of selling off government businesses, once it has happened we get used to it pretty quickly.

The stated reasons for believing privatisation to be a "reform" vary. For the Howard government, the attitude was: "Everyone knows privately owned businesses are better managed than government-owned, so why not sell our businesses and use the proceeds to reduce debt?"

A more sophisticated rationale is that deregulating an industry to foster competition in it is far more important in encouraging productive efficiency (higher productivity) and better service to consumers. Once that greater competitive pressure has been achieved, you might as well sell the business you own and use the proceeds for some more beneficial purpose.

So what do all the studies tell us about how the great privatisation experiment has worked out? The evidence is, in the authors' words, "far from conclusive". Despite the extensive privatisation that has occurred, only a limited amount of research has been undertaken.

In the case of government-owned banks, the industry had been extensively deregulated before they were sold. Their productivity did improve, but not until long after they had been sold.

And it's hard to know how much this improvement was because of deregulation and greater competition, rather than privatisation.

I think it's still true that the banks' interest margin - the gap between what they pay to borrow and what they charge to lend - is lower than it was before deregulation. I doubt if privatisation has made much difference to this.

In the case of aviation, the government deregulated its two-airline policy well before it allowed Qantas to take over Australian Airlines and then be privatised. I don't think there's much doubt that domestic air fares have been lower than they would have been had deregulation not occurred.

The lower international air fares are explained by privatisation and deregulation in many countries, combined with the advent of bigger, more cost-effective planes.

The process of deregulating telecommunications, including the admission of new competitors such as Optus and Vodafone, began long before the staged privatisation of the former monopolist, Telstra.

I think the sale of Telstra could have been done in a way that did more to promote competition - no doubt at the cost of a lower sale price for the monolith - but there's little reason to believe privatisation has made prices higher than otherwise or reduced productive efficiency.

Of course, the spread of mobile phones and use of the internet have transformed the telecom industry. Distance phone calls are cheaper than they've ever been. Technological advance explains most of this, but increased competition would have helped.

It's a similar story with electricity. It's the break-up of the old state-by-state monopolies, the introduction of competition and the formation of the national wholesale electricity market, much more than privatisation, that's done most to affect the efficiency of the industry and the prices we're paying.

Most of us have forgotten the big real price falls achieved in the 1990s, even before the major reforms took place. The more recent series of big price rises occurred despite the success of the national market in holding down wholesale prices.

The rises were caused by failure in the regulation of prices charged by the privately and publicly owned monopolies responsible for distributing the power (the "poles and wires"). But this failure has been corrected and the distribution component of retail prices is likely to fall now.

Studies suggest that, in competitive markets, whether businesses are publicly or privately owned makes little difference. It follows that consumers have little to fear from privatisation in electricity.

So how would new private owners make room for the profit they seek if they have little scope for lifting prices? By removing any remaining overstaffing and workers' perks.

That's why the unions are running scare campaigns about soaring prices.

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How to reform industrial relations

Tony Abbott's strategy for getting back into government was to make himself a small target by adopting few controversial policies. He mollified his big business backers by promising to hold many inquiries and take any proposals for controversial reform to the 2016 election.

But once in government Abbott couldn't avoid announcing many unpopular measures to get the budget back on track. These have hit his standing in the polls, while causing difficulty and delay in getting budget measures through the Senate.

It's likely a lot of them won't pass, implying the government will have to put a lot of effort into finding more palatable savings. Even then, some of this year's unpopular measures - particularly the age-pension changes - will have to be defended at the election.

Meanwhile, most of a year has passed without the government getting on with its promised inquiries into controversial issues such as industrial relations, tax reform and federal-state relations (think three letters: GST).

Not a lot of time is left for the various inquiry processes to report, for the government to consider the reports, decide what reforms it proposes and then explain and justify them to voters before the election.

Does Abbott's unexpected radicalism on budget measures presage equally radical proposals in these other issues? If so, the next election campaign will be a lot more exciting than the last one.

Or does all the hostility he has aroused just with his budget measures make it more likely Abbott won't want to bite off a lot more trouble on other fronts?

On the question of industrial relations reform, Abbott and his minister, Eric Abetz - not to mention the Productivity Commission, which will be conducting the inquiry - would do well to ponder a recent speech by Geoff McGill, a long-experienced industrial practitioner and now a visiting scholar at Sydney University's Workplace Relations Centre.

McGill observes that the history of federal industrial relations legislation "has been punctuated by swings in the IR pendulum across the political cycle". First the Howard government's Work Choices swung the pendulum in favour of employers, then the Labor government's Fair Work swung it back towards the unions.

Now big business and its cheer squad in the national dailies want the restored Coalition government to give the IR pendulum another shove back in the direction to the employers. Isn't this the way the political game is played?

It is. But McGill questions whether continuing to play that way is the best way to get where we want to go. The advocates of yet another round of industrial relations "reform" justified it mainly by arguing the need for faster improvement in the productivity of labour.

That's something all sides can agree is a desirable objective. But McGill shoots down some wishful thinking on the topic. "Productivity growth is a complex process and usually described in simplistic terms," he says. "It can never be assumed and is only evident after the event.

"There is little evidence to support claims that particular changes in industrial relations legislation will boost national labour productivity."

It's the substance of the employment relationship, not its legal form, which determines whether people are engaged and productive, he says. Productive workplaces are not the outcome of legislation, but of the quality of leadership and culture at the workplace.

Surely there must be a law against someone speaking such obvious sense.

McGill brings to mind another point. Much of the thinking behind "the end of entitlement" and the unpopular budget measures is about saying governments can't solve all your problems for you (just the opposite of the message all politicians spread during election campaigns). It's not possible and, in any case, it's not healthy for people to be so dependent on the authorities.

True enough. But if that's what the government is telling everyone from the young unemployed to uni students to age pensioners, why is it allowing big business to imagine its industrial relations problems should - or even could - be solved by the government changing the law?

Actually, my guess is most of business isn't silly enough to think that. The push is probably coming from lobbyists trying to justify their fee, journos trying to sell newspapers and a relative handful of belligerent employers facing equally belligerent unions and hoping the government will give them some new stick to beat over the heads of their opponents.

Another point of McGill's: if we want better industrial relations leading to greater productivity improvement and the main way for employers to bring this about lies in the workplace, maybe a better way to encourage them to focus on the domestic challenge is to give them a period of legislative stability rather than more changes in the rules of the game.

Most successful managers understand that getting along with people - winning their regard, respect, support, trust, loyalty and co-operation - works better than getting heavy and legalistic. That's how you get better industrial relations - by, as McGill says, putting more emphasis on the relations and less on the industrial.

Managers like to be kept in the loop. Guess what? So do workers. Smart managers keep their staff well informed about the company's performance and the challenges it faces, and give early warnings - even to the union - about any need for nasties like redundancies. They never risk a breakdown in relations by telling workers things they subsequently discover to be untrue.

You engender co-operation by treating people well, consulting them, giving them a degree of autonomy, rewarding loyalty and sharing the business's proceeds fairly between shareholders, managers and staff. Workers accept a hierarchical pay structure, but you don't cause envy and disaffection by rewarding some equals more than others.

And if you don't like outside union officials coming into your workplace, you keep your workers so happy they never need to call them in.

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Many economists don't get the labour market

The world is full of economists who, though they know little of the specifics of labour economics, confidently propose policies for managing the labour market based on their general knowledge of the neo-classical model. All markets are much the same, aren't they?

I fear this is the best we'll get from the Productivity Commission's inquiry into regulation of the labour market. So a test of the commission's report will be whether it displays knowledge of advanced thinking on how labour markets actually work or is just another neo-liberal rant about free markets.

In their efforts to bone up on the topic, the commissioners could do worse than start with a quick read of Nobel laureate Robert Solow's 90-page classic, The Labor Market as a Social Institution.

Since the book was published in 1990, it should be old hat to economists, but I doubt it is. If so, it shows how little effort most economists - even academic economists - have put into studying the labour market.

Solow starts by reminding economists of a glaring problem they prefer not to think about: if the market for labour is just a market like any other market, and so is capable of being adequately analysed by the economists' standard tool kit of demand and supply - prices adjust until demand and supply are equal and the market "clears" - how come the labour market never clears?

How come we always have high unemployment, which shoots up during downturns and stays very high for years before falling only slowly?

To put the puzzle another way, if the labour market works like any other market, making wages just a price like any other price, why don't wages fall and keep falling as long as the supply of labour exceeds the demand for it?

Why do nominal wages almost never fall? Why is it the closest we ever get is nominal wages not rising as fast as ordinary prices, so wages fall a bit in "real terms"?

In a country with Australia's history of many minimum wages, carefully specified in awards and agreements, it's easy for economists to claim wages can't fall because they're being held up by legal minimums. But this doesn't wash. In reality, many if not most wages are well above the legal minimum, meaning the minimum isn't "binding" and so isn't stopping actual nominal wages from falling back to the minimum. But they don't - and nor do they in the US, where the minimum wage is kept so low it's almost never binding.

Overseas, some extreme neo-classical economists have tried to escape this problem by arguing most unemployment is voluntary rather than involuntary. It just so happens that, when economies turn down, a lot of people decide now's the time to take unpaid holidays and stay on them for many months. Yeah, right.

Solow says a more credible line of explanation is to admit the obvious: there must be something about labour markets that makes them different from other markets (such as the market for cars, or the market for bank loans) and so renders economists' usual analytical tools inadequate.

And it's not hard to think of what that something could be. Other markets are for the purchase and sale of inanimate objects, whereas every unit of labour bought or sold comes with a real live human attached. Every human is different - some are smart, some aren't; some work hard, some don't; some are co-operative, some aren't - and bosses turn out to be humans, too.

The thing about humans is they have egos and feelings and moods. One apple doesn't care about the other apples in the barrel, but a human cares about how they're being treated by their human boss, as well about how they're being treated relative to all the other humans working for the boss.

Hence the title of Solow's book. Unlike other markets, the labour market is also a social institution. Only an economist could imagine you could analyse the labour market successfully without taking account of the human factor.

So maybe it's the social dimension of labour that explains why wages are inflexible and the labour market doesn't clear. Solow uses the work of some woman whose name seems vaguely familiar, a Janet Yellen, and her Noble-prize-winning husband, George Akerlof to outline one possible explanation of the conundrum, "the fair-wage-effort hypothesis".

The "efficiency-wage theory" says that in the modern economy workers often have some control over their own productivity. They produce more when they are strongly motivated to do so. "One way for an employer to provide more motivation is by paying more than other employers do; another is to threaten to fire the excessively unproductive if and when they are detected," Solow says.

If that sounds obvious, note the radical implication: a firm's physical productivity depends not just on how much labour (and capital) it uses, but also on how well the labour is paid. If so, wages won't fall just because unemployment rises.

Yellen and Akerlof's version of efficient-wage theory says workers who believe they're being paid "a fair day's wage" feel a social obligation to deliver "a fair day's work" in return.

A different approach is "insider-outsider theory". This says the people already working for a firm (the insiders) are likely to be more productive than those who aren't (the outsiders) because they understand how the firm works. If so, the insiders are helping to generate "economic rent" for the firm and thus are able to share this rent by negotiating higher wages.

An outsider may be prepared to work for the firm for a smaller wage, but the boss won't want to risk reducing his productivity by switching from insiders to outsiders.

Whichever of those theories you find more persuasive, the point is the workings of real-world labour markets are far more complicated than most economists realise. Let's hope the Productivity Commission does.

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Top 10 economic reforms that transformed Australia

1. Floating the dollar
Letting the market set the value of the Aussie dollar after December 1983 allowed it to fluctuate between US48c and $US1.10 so far, making it an absorber of shocks from the rest of the world. This has made the economy more stable and stopped the resources boom causing an inflation blowout.

2. Deregulating the banks
Introducing foreign banks and allowing banks to set their own interest rates made it much easier to get a loan and increased competition between banks and other lenders, but led to excessive lending to businesses and caused the deep recession of the early 1990s.

3. New taxes on capital gains and fringe benefits
In October 1985 Paul Keating announced new taxes but cut the top income-tax rate from 60 per cent to 49 per cent. He also abolished negative gearing, but reversed this under pressure from estate agents.

4. Removing import protection
In May 1988 Keating announced the virtual phasing out of the import duties and quotas imposed on most manufactured goods. Predicted demise of manufacturing industry did not materialise.

5. Privatising government businesses
Sale of the Commonwealth Bank began in 1991 and Qantas in 1992. The Howard government sold Telstra in three tranches from 1997. State governments sold their banks, insurance companies and some power producers and distributors.

6. Enterprise bargaining
In 1993 the Keating government ended centralised wage-fixing through a "national wage case" and introduced collective bargaining at the enterprise level. In 2005, Work Choices sought to promote individual contracts by reducing worker protections, further encumber unions and end reliance on industrial rewards. The Rudd government reversed the most extreme parts of Work Choices, but left much of it in force.

7. National competition policy
In 1995 Keating sought to encourage deregulation and privatisation by state governments and tighten the Trade Practices Act's restrictions on anti-competitive behaviour. Premiers tended to drag their feet.

8. Central Bank independence
In 1996 Peter Costello allowed the Reserve Bank to make its decisions independent of the elected government, endorsing its target of holding inflation between 2 per cent and 3 per cent, on average. The Reserve has raised interest rates more than a politician would - including during the 2007 election campaign - but this has kept inflation under tighter control than when politicians were in charge.

9. Goods and services tax
The start of the GST in 2000 came 25 years after it had been proposed by a major inquiry. It replaced wholesale sales tax and various unconstitutional or inefficient state taxes. Much death and destruction were predicted; little eventuated. But now GST is showing signs of wear and needs renovation.

10. Taxes on mining and carbon
Wayne Swan planned to raise huge sums from taxing miners' high profits and use the proceeds to give tax cuts and concessions to business and individual savers. He also used a tax to impose a price on carbon dioxide emissions. Both reforms were badly mishandled and Tony Abbott has pledged to reverse these reforms.

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Costs of reform rarely mentioned by reformers

The idealised case for the social usefulness of the economics profession is that, within their area of expertise, economists offer the community dispassionate advice on the choices open to it, identifying the costs and benefits associated with each option and never failing to remind us that, whatever choice we make, it comes at an opportunity cost.

Unfortunately, those economists who belong to the economic rationalist faction often fall well short of this ideal. They don't offer dispassionate choices so much as passionately advocate one option over others, often exaggerating the likely benefits and brushing aside the direct costs and the opportunity cost of their preferred choice - which they sanctify by labelling a "reform".

Economic rationalists are the missionaries of materialism. They often step outside their expertise, failing to warn pollies or the public that their figuring has taken no account of non-efficiency considerations such as how the increased national income they promise will be distributed between rich and poor, and how the reform will affect family relationships, leisure, stress, trust and other forms of social capital.

This is why I was struck last week to see a lawyer, Geoff Giudice, former president of the (now) Fair Work Commission, doing what I don't remember ever seeing an economist do: reminding the community that "reform" comes with costs.

Giudice argued that, after four major reform acts on industrial relations law in the past 20 years, calls for further change should be approached with some caution.

"Reform has a cost. There are significant transaction costs [I'd say switching costs] associated with changes (and attempted changes) in labour legislation," he said. "There is the cost of consultation at many levels: for example, internal deliberations in various representative bodies, governments, community organisations and special advocacy groups.

"Lobbying, including representations to government and opposition parties, is not cheap. There are usually public relations and advertising costs of various kinds. Then the cost of the parliamentary process itself, including legislative drafting, the production of the associated parliamentary materials and sitting time, needs to be considered."

Should laws be changed after all that, there were usually significant implementation costs. In recent memory, very large amounts of money had been spent on changing staffing and other public service arrangements in response to legislative change, he said.

"There are other implementation costs related to compliance," he said. "Public information campaigns and industry education are needed. Employers can incur staff training, legal and other consultant costs ... Significant amounts of management time can be directed to dealing with proposals for legislative change."

The economic rationalists would no doubt reply that the continuing efficiency gain from their proposed reforms would soon dwarf these essentially once-off costs. But this doesn't justify their failure to acknowledge the costs of the reforms they advocate, the way they behave like high-pressure salesmen.

It doesn't justify the cases where reforms fail to deliver the promised benefits because of "unintended consequences" (which their oversimplified model didn't foresee).

How often do reforms fail to bring significant net benefits? Probably a lot more often than we realise. Reformers are guided much more by their preconceptions than by empirical evidence. They tend not to dwell on their failures, shifting the blame to the pollies' flawed execution.

Since we live in a democracy, however, it's inevitable that governments' execution will fall short of textbook purity. This being so, the gap between theory and practice is a sort of cost the reformers should take into their reckoning before assuring us we've nothing to lose.

And the rationalists' mentality that the need for reform is never-ending, that for governments not to be reforming something means they're not doing their job, that too much reform is never enough, creates an environment in which we get too much change.

The reform mania gives rise to plenty of failed attempts to get reforms through, too much pseudo-reform and too much oscillating change as we try centralising everything, then, when that doesn't work, try decentralising.

Particularly in industrial relations, we have too much battling between labour and capital to get the law slanted in their favour, all under the cover of "reform". Little wonder Giudice thinks the goal of any further change ought to be making the law more acceptable to both sides, thereby producing long-term stability and certainty in the legislative regime.

He says "when legislative change is proposed, all of the steps along the way from policy formulation, drafting, public debate and so on, through to implementation in some cases and abandonment in others, can be a wasteful distraction which displaces more productive activities".

It's taken a lawyer to remind the rationalists that reform itself has an opportunity cost.

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We've had enough IR reform to last us a while

At the Workplace Research Centre's annual labour law conference in Sydney this week, the topic was "Beyond Groundhog Day". Huh?

Parts of the media have worked assiduously to convince us industrial relations law is in terrible shape and in need of sweeping reform. So Tony Abbott has promised a major review, to be conducted by the hyper-rationalist Productivity Commission, with any proposals for legislative change to be taken to the election after this one.

But we've already had four "wholesale rewrites of Commonwealth industrial law" in the past 20 years. Do we really need another? Are we doomed to keep waking up to another day of system change until, after innumerable goes, we finally get it right? Should we keep striving for perfection, or is there something to be gained from a period of stability and certainty?

In case you haven't been keeping count, the first big change was in 1993, when the Keating government abandoned the highly unusual centralised system of conciliation and arbitration we installed at Federation and replaced it with a decentralised system of collective bargaining at the enterprise level.

Then we had Peter Reith's Workplace Relations Act in 1996, which downgraded the role of industrial awards and the Industrial Relations Commission, greatly reduced union power and inaugurated legislative recognition of individual contracts, known as "Australian workplace agreements", subject to a "no-disadvantage test".

In 2005 John Howard introduced his Work Choices legislation, which replaced the federal and state systems with a single national system, further reduced the role of the unions and the commission, further restricted the right to strike and further downgraded awards, essentially replacing them with a short list of legislated minimum conditions and annual minimum wage adjustments.

Initially, at least, he sought to encourage employers' use of individual contracts by removing the no-disadvantage test, meaning workers moved onto an Australian workplace agreement could indeed suffer a loss of pay or benefits.

And then in 2009 Julia Gillard passed her Fair Work law. It suits both sides in the eternal union-Labor, employer-Liberals IR battle to have you believe Fair Work completely reversed Work Choices.

In truth, it reversed some of it, but retained large parts. It ended statutory recognition of individual contracts, making collectively bargained enterprise agreements the main form of wage-fixing.

It restored the authority of the commission - now called the Fair Work Commission - and a greatly simplified "modern" award system, applying only to workers on less than $100,000 a year. It increased to 10 the number of legislated minimum "national employment standards" and restored streamlined unfair dismissal rules.

But it retained and strengthened Work Choices' national system and many of its measures to limit union power, including limits on unions' right of entry to workplaces, mandatory secret ballots before strikes, and bans on industry-wide strikes and pattern bargaining. It kept the ban on "secondary boycotts" (actions aimed at businesses other than the employer) in trade practices legislation.

It continued to limit the commission's power to settle disputes by compulsory arbitration, and to permit employers to lock out their staff without notice.

So where are we now? According to a speaker at the conference, Richard Bunting, a lawyer who usually represents employers, the present system has nine principal features. First, the state industrial relations systems have been emasculated.

Minimum wages and conditions are specified by statute, supplemented by modern awards. But these are very much minimums, with industry- or calling-wide awards no longer "owned" by particular unions and employer groups.

The system recognises only collectively bargained enterprise agreements, with workers not necessarily represented by unions and with "enterprise" defined only loosely. Workers have a statutory right to strike, but only during the bargaining period for a new agreement.

Individual workers enjoy freedom of association (to join or not join a union) and protection against certain "adverse action" by employers. Unions are less central to the operation of the system, but are still facilitated and protected. Finally, unions retain some rights of entry to workplaces.

The question is, are the industrial parties so unhappy with the operation of this system that another big review is needed, with major changes to follow?

Bunting said most of his nine principal features were settled.

"They reflect the contemporary society and economic circumstances," he said. "No mainstream political or industrial participant advocates a wholly different approach, much less a return to former regimes. We are in the midst of a new period of stability affecting the main features of our labour law. However, there are some aspects in contention and some aspects where there is an apparent lack of balance... "

Another speaker, Tim Lyons, assistant secretary of the ACTU, agreed we already have a stable regime. "With the exception of the issue of statutory individual contracts (a feature basically without parallel in overseas jurisdictions), the essential components of the current architecture . . . are seriously contested only at the margins," he said.

According to the keynote speaker, former justice Geoff Giudice, long-time president of the commission, "while there are some deep-seated differences in the positions of the major interests, it is important that many of the fundamental elements of the system are widely accepted. Policy differences tend to be at the margins or to be based on special pleading.

"There are some proposals for radical reform it is true, but extreme positions seldom provide a sound basis for change," he said.

Even Stephen Smith, of the employers' Australian Industry Group, though he had a long list of complaints, really only wanted change at the margin.

But the last word goes to Geoff McGill, former wages policy bureaucrat and employer consultant. "It is the substance of the employment relationship not its legal form which determines whether people are engaged and productive," he said.

"Productive workplaces are not the outcome of legislation but of the quality of leadership and culture at the workplace.

"There is a significant productivity dividend available to those organisations that have the leadership capability to harness discretionary effort of employees, through increased employee engagement."

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'Reform' just a marketer's word for change

Do you like change? I don't, and I don't know many people who do. And yet when it comes to the economy, people are always demanding change and more change from our politicians, and the pollies almost invariably seek our votes by promising it - better change than whatever their opponents are offering. These are promises they inevitably keep.

Some degree of change is unavoidable, of course. The environment in which we live and work is often changed by factors outside our control - particularly developments in other countries and the introduction of new technology - and we often don't have much choice but to change in response.

But we demand - and are given - a lot more change than the minimum necessary to cope with a changing world. Governments give us more change than we need for fear they'll be judged lazy or ineffective if they don't.

How does this paradoxical situation come about? It's simple: the change people demand of politicians and the change pollies promise isn't called change, it's called "reform". Slap on that label and the change we'd otherwise abhor becomes sanctified as virtuous, much-needed and far-sighted.

The politics and policy game involves thinking of a problem, then proposing a "reform" we fondly imagine will fix it. But our apparent love for reform means surprisingly little effort is put into checking how successful the supposed reform has been in delivering its promised benefits.

When a reform doesn't work this doesn't shake our enthusiasm for change, it just whets our appetite for more. We rush off for another round of "think of a problem and propose a reform". So great is our mania for reform we don't notice the not infrequent occasions when, in our efforts to solve some intractable problem, our efforts at reform keep oscillating from one approach to its opposite.

And it occurs to no one to query the wisdom of this incessant activity and reorganisation. Until now.

On Monday I witnessed the most remarkable speech from an authority figure I've heard in a long time. He was the former Justice Geoff Giudice, long-time president of the Industrial Relations Commission and inaugural president of the Fair Work Commission, speaking at the annual labour law conference in Sydney.

As you're well aware, the nation's been arguing furiously about industrial relations law at least since John Howard proposed his Work Choices "reforms" after the 2004 election. Along with the need for action on climate change, Work Choices is held to be a big part of the reason for Howard's defeat in 2007.

The new Labor government proceeded to introduce its own Fair Work "reforms", which consisted of reversing the most extreme elements of Work Choices while retaining much of its change and Howard's earlier changes in 1996.

Add in the Keating government's move to enterprise bargaining in 1993 and we've had four major changes in the industrial relations rules in just 20 years. But employer groups, chief executives and retired Liberal politicians, whipped up by the national dailies, are demanding an Abbott government implement substantial reform, moving the law back in the direction of Work Choices.

Having learnt the bitter lesson of the Liberals' 2007 defeat, Tony Abbott is promising only limited change, while pledging a major review of the system by the Productivity Commission, with any proposals for "reform" arising out of the review to be taken to the election in 2016.

Giudice argues in his speech that achieving a "stable and predictable industrial relations framework for the benefit of business, both here and overseas, for employees and for other stakeholders" should be a national imperative.

The question most often asked by politicians and their advisers, he says, is: what needs to be changed? "A more important question, which is rarely posed, is: how can greater stability be achieved in our industrial relations system?

"Stability is important from an economic and social viewpoint, although not perhaps from a political one. After two decades of change, much of which has been beneficial, further change is unlikely to lead to a net benefit for our economy unless it is the result of a much improved policy formulation process."

While there are some deep-seated differences in the positions of the major industrial interests, he says, "it is important that many of the fundamental elements of the system are widely accepted. Policy differences tend to be at the margins, or based on special pleading.

"There are some proposals for radical reform, it is true, but extreme positions seldom provide a sound basis for change."

I think Giudice is on to something. I agree we'd be better off with better industrial relations - that is, better relations between bosses and workers. But the path to better relations does not lie via yet another round of legislative change.

It doesn't lie in one side or the other using their political influence to get the rules shifted in their favour. We could go on playing that tit-for-tat game forever. But we have achieved a reasonable - if, inevitably, imperfect - balance, and it's time we gave up the delusion that legislative change is key to better relations in the workplace.

That's a job not for politicians, lobbyists, ideologues or media urgers, but for individual employers, their workers and their workers' unions. The parties on the ground need to focus on achieving greater co-operation in pursuing the business's goals, with fair sharing of the resulting rewards.

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Egalitarian facade hides growing inequality

One thing that makes me proud to be Australian is our tradition of egalitarianism. I love living in a country where Jack is as good as his master, where first names are so commonly used and men are more likely to address each other as "mate" than "sir".

When catching a cab overseas, I have to remind myself not to sit in the front with the driver and I love the way our government ministers - male and female - invariably sit up front in their chauffeur-driven cars, with staff members in the back seat.

It makes me proud to hear that in prisoner of war camps, the American soldiers tended to turn them into little economies and the Brits stuck rigidly to class privileges, whereas the Aussie officers and men shared all their meagre resources on the basis of need - meaning more of them survived.

And I was chastened years ago on an industrial relations junket as a guest of the German government. The Aussies in the group went out to see the sights one night in Munich. When, eventually, we decided to go back to the hotel we realised one of the group was missing.

I said I thought he was old enough and ugly enough to look after himself but an old union secretary demurred. "You blokes go back to the pub," he said quietly. "I'll have a look round for him. You never leave your mates behind."

You might think this egalitarianism would be reflected in a reasonably equal distribution of income between Australian households but that's far from the case. As the economics professor turned Labor politician Andrew Leigh reminds us in his most readable new book, Battlers and Billionaires, the latest figures show us having the ninth highest level of inequality among 34 rich countries.

It's probably not terribly well understood that, between Federation and the late 1970s, the gap between the highest and lowest incomes narrowed steadily, whereas since then, it has widened significantly.

The standard way to study the distribution of income is to compare the fortunes of the poorest fifth of households with those of the middle fifth and the top fifth. But Leigh has led the way in using income tax statistics to focus on changes in the share of total income commanded by the top 1 per cent of income earners.

He finds that, in the 1910s, the top 1 per cent (individuals who, by today's standards, enjoy pre-tax income of more than $200,000 a year) received about 12 per cent of all personal income. That is, 12 times what they'd get if incomes were distributed equally.

But this share declined steadily to reach a low of about 5 per cent of total income by 1980.

What caused this marked decline in inequality? Leigh shares the credit between the effect of the union movement (and, I'd add, our system of arbitration and conciliation) in protecting and improving wage levels, our governments' increasing reliance on income tax (with its progressively higher tax rates on higher income earners) and the development of our heavily means-tested system of welfare benefits, such as the age pension, child endowment and unemployment benefits.

He says the welfare system has twice the equalising force of the tax system.

The result was that, "under the prime ministership of Malcolm Fraser, the share of income held by the richest 1000th of Australians was only a quarter of what it had been under Billy Hughes [in the late 1910s]".

Since sometime in the late 1970s, however, this equalising trend - bringing the way the nation's income is shared more into line with our egalitarian ideals - has been reversed. The share of the top 1 per cent of income earners has recovered from 5 per cent to about 9 per cent.

Why? Leigh estimates the rise in inequality over the past generation can be attributed roughly equally to three factors, the first of which is technology and globalisation.

New technology's ability to give the best entertainers, sportspeople and even lawyers and other professionals access to a global market has hugely increased the incomes of a relative handful of individuals. Efforts to attract foreign chief executives to lead Australian companies have helped to force up the incomes of all chief executives.

Second is the decline of the union movement (including the move from collective bargaining to individual contracts), which has allowed many workers' wages to grow less strongly than other incomes.

Third is taxation, with moves to make income tax rates less progressive and rely more on indirect taxes.

My way of putting it is that, since the early 1980s, we have become more overtly materialistic in our values and political leaders have reacted by undertaking micro-economic "reforms", emphasising the primacy of economic growth and generally becoming more receptive to the demands of business.

The result is a lot more income, but also a lot less equal distribution of that income. The people urging this greater emphasis on materialism have captured most of the benefits while the rest of the community doesn't quite seem to have noticed what's going on.

I confess, I've been a winner from this process. What I'm not sure of is whether it leaves us better off as a community. Perhaps one day, the egalitarian facade will collapse and we won't like what we see.

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Macquarie University IR Panel Discussion

I want to make four points very quickly. First, I’m not convinced we have an economy-wide problem with productivity - I don’t think the statistical evidence bears that out.

Second, I don’t believe we have a nation-wide problem with unreasonable unions exploiting an IR system that a Labor government has stacked in their favour, if for no other reason than that the great majority of employers, and the great majority of employees, work in what is essentially the non-unionised sector. So let’s not kid ourselves, what’s represented here today is a quite small and unrepresentative part of the economy.

Third, I do believe we need a more flexible labour market. But we have to be clear what flexibility means. If it’s a euphemism for governments changing the IR system to allow employers to ride roughshod over their workers - that employers should have all the rights and employees should have next to none - then we don’t need it - because it’s not in the community’s overall interests - and, in any case, as the defeat of the Howard govt reaffirms, politicians are rarely stupid enough to imagine they could bias the system that far against voting employees (who account for almost 2/3rds of the adult population) and live to tell the tale.

No, the flexibility we need is willingness on the part of workers to accept the often painful changes in their arrangements necessitated by the economy’s changing circumstances - by changes in technology, changes in industry regulation and changes in the threats and opportunities created by the rest of the world. Unless we achieve that kind of flexibility - and I believe for the most part we are achieving it, even in the unionised sector - we will pay for it with declining productivity and profitability and consequently a decline in our material standard of living.

But, fourth, I don’t believe our IR law is the key obstacle to achieving that kind of flexibility, nor is changing the IR law the way to achieve it. The key obstacle is bad industrial relations - that is, bad relations between individual employers and their employees; lack of trust - and if you think the answer to bad relations with your workers is to get the IR law changed in your favour so you can force your will on your workers you’re revealing exactly why you have a problem. A bad worker blames his tools and bad employers blame the IR law. (People who work for employer groups blame IR law because that’s what justifies their continued employment).

In my experience, workers turn to unions, and allow their unions to behave unreasonably, because they don’t trust their employers. Because they believe they’ve been lied to in the past, because their employers refuse to consult, because they don’t give their workers ‘voice’ except via the union, because they refuse to explain in detail and over and over what the problem is and why their proposed solution is the best one and because they won’t assure their workers they’re not trying to pull a fast one, that they’ll do all they can to minimise the pain and disruption involved - or because such assurances aren’t believed.

Bad employers beget bad unions. Then bad employers conclude the only answer to unreasonable unions is unreasonable employers. And then bad employers campaign to have the IR laws biased in their favour. Smart employers don’t blame their problems on the government and don’t delude themselves governments can solve problems they themselves can’t solve on the ground.

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Union lion bearded in its den

Fair Work Australia's monumental rebuff to the Transport Workers Union in its dispute with Qantas strikes a blow to the credibility of claims the Fair Work Act is some kind of conspiracy against employers.

The commission (which is what Fair Work Australia is in all but name) had no choice last week but to support Qantas management because, in both its tactics and its demands, the union was being so bloody-minded.

That's true even though, by grounding its planes worldwide and locking out all its staff last October, Qantas management could come up with no more creative solution to its bargaining problem than to be as bloody-minded as some of its unions.

This was not so much a win for "managers' right to manage" as the commission's commonsense judgment that all the industrial parties needed to face up to the harsh commercial realities threatening the survival of their business.

Here we had a union demanding 5 per cent annual pay rises at the same time it was fighting to prevent its employer from turning to cheaper sources of labour. That makes sense? These guys needed their heads examined.

Qantas's long-running disputes with three of its unions represent the only times Fair Work Australia has agreed to impose arbitrated resolutions so far in its brief existence. Remembering the way the old arbitration system had degenerated by the time we abandoned it in the mid-1990s, it's been vitally important to limit use of compulsory arbitration to cases of the greatest intransigence.

The whole point of the move from the centralised system to bargaining at the enterprise level was to get employers and unions dealing with each other face-to-face and responding their workplace's particular circumstances, rather than the old game of unions pulling on a strike to oblige the referee to intervene and impose a compromise.

It will be a pity if the commission's refusal last week to split the difference in the old way encourages other militant employers to seek to resolve disagreements with their workers the chaos-causing Qantas way.

Even so, the commission's refusal to go anywhere near splitting the difference provides powerful evidence it can be trusted to adjudicate issues sensibly in a system that hasn't swung the balance too far the unions' way.

Perhaps this explains why the national dailies - which, in their campaigning against the evils of Fair Work, seem to find another story about union atrocities for the front page most days - weren't greatly excited by the employers' big win last week.

The trouble with two such influential organs distorting their reporting of industrial relations so persistently and to such an extent is that between them, they can leave the public with a grossly exaggerated impression of the extent of union misbehaviour and the deleterious effect of Fair Work.

Read too much of that stuff and you come away thinking the union movement has risen from its deathbed to pose the greatest threat to our continued prosperity. Remember, union membership is down to 18 per cent of the workforce (from 50 per cent in 1982) and 14 per cent of private sector workers.

Another figure to keep in mind next time you read about the union monster poised to eat the economy's lunch: more than 80 per cent of enterprises don't have a union presence.

Two labour lawyers, Dr Anthony Forsyth, of Monash University, and Professor Andrew Stewart, of Adelaide University, note in their submission to the Fair Work review that "the concerns about union activities that so animate certain employers in the resources, manufacturing and construction sectors are very far removed from the issues confronting businesses in other parts of the economy".

"For the small to medium enterprises that predominate in sectors such as retail and hospitality, both unions and indeed collective bargaining are largely absent. Their concerns are much more likely, in our experience, to revolve around the costs and 'inflexibilities' imposed by the award system, and the renewed exposure to unfair dismissal claims that the Fair Work Act has brought."

So far, Fair Work has failed in its aim to greatly increase the extent of collective bargaining, with the proportion of employees covered by collective agreements increasing from 39.8 per cent of the workforce in 2008, to just 43.4 per cent in 2010.

Forsyth and Stewart argue many of these new agreements are effectively non-union instruments drafted by employers to replace the individual workplace agreements formerly available under Work Choices.

"Such agreements may be presented as 'collective', and they do require the endorsement of a majority of employees to be registered under the Fair Work Act - but only rarely are they the product of anything that could be said to resemble a bargaining process," they say.

Genuine collective bargaining is likely to be confined mainly to large, unionised workplaces in the public sector and to some sections of the private sector.

Much of the bitter complaint about Fair Work comes from the miners. Forsyth and Stewart say what some employers in the resources sector are seeking is a capacity to manage their businesses without the involvement of unions, and to undertake projects entirely free of any threat of industrial action.

"These aspirations are simply not compatible with the principle of freedom of association ... Indeed, to allow them to be fully realised would involve restrictions on the taking of industrial action, or on union rights of entry, that would go far beyond anything envisaged by the Howard government, even during the Work Choices period," they say.

Talk of Fair Work having unnecessarily bolstered "union power" should not only be kept in proportion, but also understood in the context of a broader ideological agenda that is profoundly antithetical to the principle of collectivism, they conclude.

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For true productivity gains, co-operate don't fight

When Peter Reith replaced Labor's Industrial Relations Act with the Workplace Relations Act in 1996, he changed the act's principal objective from the "prevention and settlement of industrial disputes" to "providing a framework for co-operative workplace relations". I'm not sure the Howard government always lived up to that ideal, but it was certainly the right idea.

John Howard was fond of saying we should emphasise the things that unite us, not the things that divide us. Again, I'm not sure he always lived up to that, but it was the right idea - particularly for relations between bosses and workers.

The principal objective of the Fair Work Act is to provide a "balanced framework for co-operative and productive workplace relations that promotes national economic prosperity and social inclusion". That's even better.

At a time when so many of our industries are under so much pressure to change from so many sources - the high dollar, the prudent consumer, the digital revolution, the deregulation of world airlines - we need all the co-operation we can get between employers and unions.

Most economists have rejected the claims of some that our seemingly poor productivity performance over the past decade can be blamed on the Fair Work Act that came into full effect only at the start of 2010.

But that's not the same as saying the act is without fault. And it's certainly not to deny the need for our industrial relations to be as conducive as possible to improved productivity.

If we were to believe all we see and hear, we'd conclude relations were pretty bad at present. I'm not convinced that's true. More likely, a handful of highly publicised, bitter disputes has provoked a lot of tough talking on both sides of the fence, and left us with the impression things are worse than they really are. Even so, too much of the debate about Fair Work has focused on whether it's got the balance right between the adversaries, and not enough on how much it's helping to turn adversaries into partners.

There are plenty of people who've always hated the unions, and plenty who've always hated the bosses. All of us can be lured into playing that game but, in all our interests, we need to resist the temptation. It's self-indulgent at a time when we need to pull together.

For industrial relations to become more co-operative, and hence more productive, we need give and take on both sides.

What managers need to accept is that workers are entitled to reasonable treatment. Managers want to do well out of their association with a business; so do workers. And, to adapt a quote, the economy was made for man, not man for the economy.

There are plenty of ways to improve the productivity of labour - and certainly, to cut the cost of labour - that involve making life more uncertain, insecure, unpleasant and even unhealthy for workers. If that's what "flexibility" means, it's hardly surprising workers resist it. Good managers resist the temptation to go down that shortcut to supposed prosperity.

Many proposals to "outsource" production or resort to contract labour aren't about two-way flexibility but about cutting costs by escaping existing in-house arrangements over pay and conditions. Good managers need to do better than that.

Australia's workers are relatively highly paid, with good conditions. This is a good thing, not a bad thing. It's certainly nothing to try to make workers feel guilty about. As any economist will tell you, our high pay rates are justified by our relatively highly educated and skilled workforce, by the high-quality capital equipment it works with, and by the sharing of this nation's considerable wealth.

The goal of management should not be finding ways to escape these high costs, but finding ways to defend our high wage rates with high productivity. In this endeavour they're entitled to full co-operation from their workers.

What workers need to accept is that the world economy is changing rapidly and as it changes we must change. Businesses must respond to the changing commercial pressures on them, or they will fail.

In a capitalist economy, businesses need to earn an adequate return on the shareholders' funds invested in them. In the final analysis, managers are paid to ensure their business remains profitable. They will do whatever it takes.

Such profits are not illegitimate, and they're not available to be plundered by workers demanding excessive wage rises or refusing to change in response to the changing pressures on the business.

Workers and their unions simply cannot pretend the pressures for change bearing down on the business are a problem for management, but not for them. The more they resist a creative response, the more managers will go around them in the search for cheaper labour.

Change - painful change - can't be avoided by attempting to strongarm management into including guarantees of job security in enterprise agreements. Guess what? There are no guarantees in an ever-changing market economy.

Much of the change being imposed on various industries will inevitably involve redundancies. The most workers can expect is decent redundancy pay, the avoidance of excesses designed to impress the sharemarket, and a preference for redundancies to be voluntary.

Professor Paul Gollan, of Macquarie University, argues the key to greater co-operation in the workplace is giving workers greater "voice" - formal arrangements within businesses by which employees are consulted, given their say and encouraged to propose improvements and "add value". Studies confirm such processes are associated with greater productivity.

Senior managers' "prerogative" - about which I say more in my little video on the website - is to ensure their staff is fully informed about the challenges facing the business.

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Fair Work debate fans the fighting mood

THE most disappointing thing about the review of the Fair Work Act and the reaction to it is the way they push industrial relations towards being more adversarial rather than less.

At time when so many businesses face unusually challenging pressures for structural change, we need more co-operation between the industrial partners, not more class struggle and barracking from the sidelines.

The standard approach to industrial relations reform is to see it as about "getting the balance right". There's a fundamental conflict of interest between labour and capital, we think, plus a wide difference in bargaining power, so the objective is to ensure the eternally battling parties are fairly evenly matched.

That's the public policy objective, of course. If you're on one side or the other, your objective is simply to get the rules changed in a way that gives you the drop over the other side.

The conventional view is that, with its attempt to install individual contracts as the chief form of bargaining and marginalise the unions, WorkChoices pushed the balance too far in the direction of employers.

So it was fair enough - particularly after voters seemed to reject WorkChoices so decisively - for Fair Work to push the balance back the other way. The review's job was to decide whether the balance had now been pushed too far the other way.

The trouble with the review is that it didn't do much more than adjudicate the rival claims, legal section by section. With two of the three members of the review being lawyers - and one a judge - you couldn't have expected anything else.

Although the media portrayed the employer groups' reaction to the review as angry, I suspect they were quite pleased. They won more points than they expected to, while the unions won fewer.

One trouble with the traditional approach to regulating industrial relations - supervise a fair fight - is that it's reinforced by all our other adversarial institutions. It comes naturally to lawyers, but also to politicians.

There's nothing Julia Gillard and Labor would love more than a rematch on industrial relations and there are plenty of urgers on the Liberal sidelines spoiling for a punch-up.

For once, however, Bruiser Abbott isn't tempted, judging correctly that such a them-and-us contest would greatly favour "them". Electorally, WorkChoices is still toxic.

Should Abbott win the election, it will be interesting to see what gap emerges between his pre-election rhetoric and his post-election policies. Many of his backers are hoping for a yawning chasm.

Just as the traditional industrial relations approach is adversarial, so the IR experts are highly factionalised. Most academic experts long ago chose sides between the unions and the employers. Trying to find experts who can see both sides of the argument is one of the trials of my job.

Wherever there are adversaries, there you can expect to find the media, doing their best to increase the fun by amplifying the conflict. What's new is to have the national dailies taking sides in their reporting, with the union side of the story virtually unmentioned.

Whenever there's a brawl, it's hard for interested bystanders to resist the temptation to join in. I suspect that's the story with big business leaders: they're not greatly affected, but they know whose side they're on.

Consider the results of last week's CEO Pulse survey of 96 chief executives. Fully 82 per cent of them think Fair Work is having a negative impact on productivity. That's for the whole economy. For their own industry, it's down to 60 per cent. And for their own business? Down to 51 per cent, with 45 per cent saying it's having no effect.

Coming from people with such obvious alignment, that tells me we don't have a lot to worry about. It reveals the classic survey gap between first-hand experience and the general impression people have picked up, mainly from the media.

My guess is a few big, militant unions are taking every advantage of Fair Work to make unreasonable demands. And they're being vigorously opposed by a few equally militant, unreasonable big businesses.

But we shouldn't allow people with a vested interest in conflict to misdirect us. The real problem with Fair Work is that it's not doing as much good as it could be at a time when bosses and workers need to pull together.

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We've come a long way on industrial relations

In all the argument about the rights and wrongs of Julia Gillard's Fair Work Act, it's easy to forget we've been making radical changes to our industrial relations and wage-fixing system since the late 1980s.

Since the labour market is such an integral part of the economy, it's reasonable to suppose those changes have made a significant contribution to the economy's markedly improved performance over the past two decades.

What you can't do is look at the macro-economic record and confidently attribute this improvement or that deterioration to either the Fair Work Act or the Work Choices regime that preceded it.

Why not? Because, particularly if you're talking about our weak productivity performance, the timing doesn't fit. Also because neither regime was or has been in force long enough to be sure they've had much effect on anything. Changes take time to make a mark.

But, above all, because when you take just one factor and use it to explain some particular development in the economy, you're unconsciously assuming ceteris paribus - all else remains equal. And in the real world, that's never true. For all you know, the development may be explained by some other factor, or combination of factors.

So whenever you see a protagonist in the debate confidently claiming the slowdown in productivity can be blamed on the industrial relations approach they oppose, know they're talking prejudice, not reasoned analysis.

As this week's review of the Fair Work Act reminds us, we've been overhauling our industrial relations and wage-fixing system for ages. For most of the time since Federation we operated under a uniquely antipodean system of federal and state "conciliation and arbitration".

In theory, all strikes were illegal because the system made them unnecessary. In practice, strikes were frequent, but short.

In theory, the commission running the system would provide conciliation to differing employers and unions, trying to help them reach an agreement. If this didn't work it would compulsorily arbitrate to impose a solution, usually roughly splitting the difference. In practice, disputes were almost always settled by arbitration. Unions would pull on a strike to get the umpire to intervene and impose a decision.

In theory, wage rises were controlled by the commission in a "national wage case", making them nationally uniform for all workers subject to particular "industrial awards", on which the system was built. In practice, you could get pay rises other ways, including by breaking out of the system if you had enough muscle. Some increases would "flow on" from one key award to all awards.

Get the feeling it wasn't working very well? The first attempt to restore order was to limit wage rises to those awarded by the national wage case, where wages were indexed to the consumer price index.

But indexation was abandoned in 1987 and wage rises were awarded in exchange for the removal of "restrictive work practices" (inefficiencies). Awards were restructured to reduce demarcations between people on different awards at the same workplace and to make awards more flexible.

In 1991, the commission introduced "enterprise bargaining" between unions and employers at the level of the individual workplace. It applied a "no-disadvantage [to employees] test" before ratifying agreements. In 1994, with a new Industrial Relations Act, a more formal system of collective bargaining at the enterprise level was introduced, the national wage case was ended and replaced with a system of small annual "safety net" award wage increases for workers unable to negotiate an increase.

All that happened under the Hawke-Keating government. From early 1997 the Howard government's Workplace Relations Act promoted the use of individual contracts (subject to the no-disadvantage test) by introducing "Australian workplace agreements", increased the emphasis on enterprise bargaining by reducing the content of awards to 20 "allowable matters" and reduced union power by outlawing compulsory unionism and making strikes legal ("protected") only during the negotiation of new agreements.

The Howard government's second major set of changes, Work Choices, took effect in 2006. It moved from a federal to a national system, sought to make individual contracts the main form of wage agreement by removing the no-disadvantage test, greatly increased the restrictions on unions where employers persisted with collective bargaining, and largely sidelined the commission.

After much criticism, in May 2007 John Howard significantly watered down these provisions by restoring a version of the no-disadvantage test and reinstating close scrutiny of individual contracts before approval.

Labor's Fair Work Act didn't really take effect until the start of 2010. It ended legislative recognition of individual contracts and restored collectively bargained enterprise agreements as the main form of wage-fixing. It largely restored the role of the commission under the cutesy title, Fair Work Australia. It reformed the award system, reducing more than 3000 federal and state awards to 122 simpler and less prescriptive "modern awards".

Some silly partisans have tried to blame Fair Work for our weak performance on the productivity of labour, but the figures don't bear this out. Productivity improved fastest under the Keating government's regime and the early years of the Workplace Relations Act, but then slowed and the weakness continued under both Work Choices and Fair Work. In any case, this ignores the huge effect of the special factors affecting productivity in mining and utilities.

But productivity isn't the only test of improved labour market performance. What about strikes? Working days lost per 1000 employees averaged 232 a year in the last days of arbitration, 176 under Labor's first Industrial Relations Act, 96 under its second act, 54 under Howard's Workplace Relations Act, 13 under Work Choices and 18 under Fair Work.

Some have blamed Fair Work for the small jump in days lost last year but most of this is explained by disputes involving the O'Farrell government and NSW public servants, who aren't covered by Fair Work.

Despite employer complaints, the minimum wage grew in real terms by less than 9 per cent over the 11 years to 2012. It dropped from 62 per cent of median full-time earnings in 1997 to 54 per cent in 2010.

The review of the Fair Work Act concludes that, since it came into force, "important outcomes such as wages growth, industrial disputation, the responsiveness of wages to supply and demand, the rate of employment growth and the flexibility of work patterns have been favourable to Australia's continuing prosperity, as indeed they have been since the transition away from arbitration two decades ago".

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How our political prejudices affect confidence

I've realised we won't be satisfied with the state of the economy until the Liberals get back to power in Canberra. That's not because Labor's so bad, or because the Libs would be so much better, but because so many people have lost confidence in Labor as an economic manager.

The conundrum is why so many people could be so dissatisfied when almost all the objective indicators show us travelling well: the economy growing at about its trend rate, low unemployment, low inflation, rising real wages, low government debt - even a low current account deficit.

And yet the media are full of endless gloom, not to mention endless criticism of the Gillard government. Last week the NAB indicator of business confidence dropped to a 10-month low. And while the Westpac-Melbourne Institute index of consumer confidence recovered almost to par, that's a lot weaker than it ought to be.

Admittedly, the good macro-economic indicators do conceal a much greater than usual degree of structural adjustment going on. But these adjustments - which are generally good news for consumers - seem to be adding to the discontent rather than the root cause of it.

The Gillard government has been far from perfect in its economic policy, but you have to be pretty one-eyed to judge its performance as bad. Similarly, only the one-eyed could believe an Abbott government would have much better policies. It's likely to be less populist in government than it is opposition but, even so, Tony Abbott is no economic reformer.

Gillard's problem is not bad policies, it's Labor's chronic inability look and act like our leader and command the public's respect and comprehension. This is a government that doesn't believe in much beyond clinging to office, and the punters can smell its lack of principle.

To be fair, on the question of economic competence Labor always starts way behind the ball in the public's mind. Decades of polling reveals the electorate's deeply ingrained view the Libs are good at running the economy and Labor is bad.

This is what feeds both the Libs' born-to-rule complex - their utter assurance that all Labor governments lack legitimacy - and Labor's barely concealed inferiority complex.

The Hawke-Keating government did manage to turn the electorate's conventional wisdom on economic competence around for most of its 11-year term.

Labor in its present incarnation has never been able to pull this off. It's lost its race memory of how to govern. All this is compounded by the manner of Gillard's ascension, her non-maleness, her inability to make the punters warm to her and the uncertainties (and broken promises) of minority government. But the problem was apparent before Labor decided it could stomach Kevin Rudd no longer.

It's true the media environment is more unhelpful than it was in Hawke and Keating's day. Increased competition has made the media more relentlessly negative - more uninterested in anything but bad news - which must eventually have some effect on the public's state of mind.

In their search for a new audience in response to the challenge of the digital revolution, part of the media has become more partisan and more unashamedly hostile to all things Labor.

You see this in the radio shock jocks, but also in the national dailies, which have adopted the Fox News business model of telling a section of the potential audience what it wants to hear, not what it needs to know.

It seems a universal truth of the commercial media that the right-leaning audience is both more numerous and better lined than the left-leaning.

So, for instance, a favourite commercial tactic at present is to search for, and give false prominence to, all stories that portray our almost-dead union movement as a threatening monster about to engulf big business.

Boosting productivity equals making industrial relations law more anti-union. End of story. When Treasury people give speeches that fail to echo this infallible truth it's a clear sign they've been "politicised" and we need to find a few hyper-ideological economics professors to misrepresent what they said.

When Hawke and Keating were in power, business leaders judged it wise to keep their natural political sympathies to themselves and work with the elected government.

But with Gillard so far behind in the polls, so ineffective in maintaining relations with big business, with the general media so anxious to accentuate the negative and a significant part of the serious press telling them how badly they're being treated and holding out a microphone, it's not surprising big business people have become so unusually vocal in their criticism of Labor.

When God's in his heaven and the Libs rule in Canberra, business people jump on anyone they consider to be "talking the economy down". But so great is their loathing of the Gillard government that business is leading the chorus of negativity. How they see this as in their commercial interest I'm blowed if I know.

While John Howard was in power, the index of consumer sentiment showed respondents who intended voting for the Coalition to be significantly more confident about the economy than those intending to vote Labor. At the time of the 2007 election, however, the two lines crossed and Labor voters became significantly more confident than Coalition voters.

The latest figures show the overall confidence index at 99, while the Labor voters' index is up at 124 but the Coalition voters' index down at 79. Since Coalition voters far outnumber Labor voters, it's clear a change of government would do wonders for measured consumer confidence.

The same would probably be true for measured business confidence. Suddenly, business would be back talking the economy up, and the partisan media would revert to backing up our leaders rather than tearing them down.

But how much difference that would make to the objective economic indicators is another question.

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How business is white-anting the weekend

Whether or not they realise what they're doing, Australia's business people, economists and politicians are in the process of dismantling the weekend and phasing out public holidays. And they're doing it in the name of making us better off.

Historically, the two arrangements that have protected the weekend and public holidays from encroachment by employers are state government restrictions on trading hours and the requirement in industrial awards that employees required to work at "unsociable hours" be paid an additional penalty rate.

Charging employers a penalty was intended to discourage them from making unreasonable demands on their employees unless absolutely necessary.

The first assault on community-wide days off came in the second half of the 1980s with the deregulation of trading hours as part of micro-economic reform.

Not much later, the move to bargaining over pay rises, and then bargaining at the enterprise level, allowed employers to push for penalty rates to be abandoned in return for higher "annualised" wages.

Employers inculcated the view penalty rates were an anachronism standing in the way of progress and modernity. Many still think that way. One of the goals of John Howard's Work Choices was to make it easier - and less expensive - for employers to get rid of penalty payments.

(Another of its provisions was to make it easier for workers to "cash out" part of their annual leave - to exchange days off for money. How this squared with the original rationale for forcing employers to give their workers paid holidays was never explained.)

Julia Gillard's Fair Work changes to Work Choices represented the first setback in the push towards the 24-hour, seven-day-a-week economy. They made it harder for employers to buy out penalty payments. And the "modern award" process - which replaced the various state awards with single national awards - inevitably involved increasing some penalty rates in some states.

But now the push has resumed. Last week, the NSW government moved to join Victoria in allowing all shops - not just those in the CBD - to open on Boxing Day. Now, say the retailers, all we need is for restrictions to be lifted on Easter Sunday.

And this week, the major banks revealed their intention to push for the definition of ordinary hours in the national banking award to be extended to include Saturday afternoons and all of Sundays. The banks say they'd still pay penalty rates, but the union doubts this promise would last. It says the banks' goal is to be able to roster employees to work any five days of the week without recognising traditional work patterns.

What's the banks' justification for seeking such a change? To promote "flexible and efficient modern work practices in a way that has proper regard to the considerations of productivity and employment costs".

Ah yes. It would make the economy more flexible and efficient, and thus raise productivity. Well, in that case, say no more. Silly me.

It's not hard to see why there's been so little public questioning of this push towards a 24/7 economy. It's highly convenient to be able to shop whenever we have the time. The more two-income families we have, the more we value the ability to shop throughout the weekend.

It also fits with the trend towards leisure being commercialised - becoming something we buy (a meal out, a show) rather than something we do (kick a football in the park with our kids).

But this belief that life would be better if shops, restaurants and places of entertainment were open all hours rests on the assumption you and I won't be among those required to work unsociable hours to make it happen. An even less obvious assumption is that the push for a 24/7 economy will stop when it has captured shopping and entertainment; it won't continue and reach those of us who work in factories and offices.

As usual, the "flexibility" being sought is one-sided. Employers gain the ability to require people to work - or not work - at times that suit their firm's efforts to maximise its profits.

If those times don't fit with your family responsibilities - or just with your desire to enjoy your life (you selfish person, you) - or if the boss's requirements keep changing in unpredictable ways, that's just too bad.

It's the price to be paid for getting more prosperous (with the boss's standard of living rising quite a bit faster than yours).

But this is the part of modern life that makes no sense to me.

Accepting the economists' argument that keeping the economy running for more hours in the week is more efficient and so will raise our material standard of living, how exactly will this leave us better off?

Why does being able to buy more stuff make up for husbands and wives being able to see less of each other, having less time with the kids, having a lot more trouble getting together with your friends, and having your day off when everyone else is at school or working?

Why is this an attractive future? Why should our elected representatives reorganise our economy in ways that suit business and promote consumption, but do so at the expense of employees' private lives?

This is a classic case of business people, economists and politicians urging on us a mentality that prioritises the economic - the material - over the other dimensions of our lives. Yet again, no one pauses to ask what these "reforms" will do to our relationships.

Why is it the politicians who bang on most about the sanctity of The Family are also those most inclined to make family life more difficult?

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Change is workers' only certainty

The shape of our economy is always changing, but lately the pace of change seems to have got a lot faster. Some industries are expanding, while others contract. Particular industries are having to change the way they operate - or the range of products they produce - in response to many pressures.

These changes almost always leave us better off materially. ''Structural change'', as economists call it, has been central to the process by which people in the developed world have become ever more affluent over the past 200 years.

The greatest force driving structural change is technological advance: the invention of better ways of doing things, new things to do and countless labour-saving machines. Globalisation has been driven partly by government policy, but mainly by the information and communications technology revolution, which has hugely increased the speed and reduced the cost at which information, money and people move around the world.

 

This has given us the global financial markets, but also the rise of the developing economies, particularly in Asia. Those countries' growing demand for our minerals and energy is bringing us great wealth but is also bringing intense pressure for change in the shape of our economy. Mining and the services sector are expanding, whereas manufacturing, the tourism industry and education exporters are being forced to adjust.

Then there are all the industries under pressure from the internet and the emergence of ''new media'': newspapers, free-to-air television, book publishing and book selling, and retailers whose customers have discovered how much more cheaply they can buy some things on the net.

The trouble with structural change, of course, is that the benefits go to the customers - new products, wider choice, lower prices - while all the problems go to the people working in the disrupted industries.

Managers have to find a new plan for their firm's survival. Meanwhile, workers go through considerable uncertainty and anxiety. At best, they have to shift to doing something completely different. They may be required to do a lot more for the same money. Perks may be cut. Or their prospects of advancement curtailed.

They may lose their status as permanents. At worst they get shown the door and take a long time to find another job. That job may well involve doing the same work for less money and poorer conditions - perhaps for the business to which their work was outsourced.

Managers have no choice but to face up to the business's changed conditions and cut their cloth accordingly. When they resist change or pretend it isn't happening they just make things worse. Non-unionised employees have to cop whatever solutions managers impose on them. But well-unionised employees have more power to resist, or at least have their viewpoint taken into account.

No firm fits this frame better than Qantas. It has lost its protected status as the nation's flag-carrier and must find a strategy for competing with myriad competitors, many of them low-cost. It can no longer afford the high salaries and cushy conditions its pilots, engineers and other employees have become accustomed to.

The problem at Qantas was not that workers wanted too much in pay rises - that's the standard stuff of such bargaining - but that they wanted to use their industrial muscle to force management to agree never to change the business in ways that disadvantaged their employees.

Sorry, but that's not possible. Here you see the grounds for business's latest complaint against Julia Gillard's Fair Work changes to industrial relations. Gillard has removed the list of ''prohibited content'' restricting the matters over which management and unions may bargain. This has permitted the unions to range far beyond claims about wages and conditions to issues that concern ''managerial prerogative'' and thus challenge ''management's right to manage''.

It's important to remember we're still engaged in the difficult transition from almost a century of compulsory arbitration - where, as soon as a strike began the umpire would step in to impose a settlement on both sides - to a new world of collective bargaining.

A central goal in making this transition - one expressed many times by the now-bellicose Peter Reith - is to encourage the two sides to bargain without external intervention. The goal was a new era of reduced industrial disruption as the parties recognised the great extent of their common interests and put less emphasis on their (undoubted) conflicting interests.

Right on. So I don't think banning debate about management decisions is the smart way to go. That would mean the law advantaging one side, giving managers permission to ride roughshod over the interests and even the opinions of their employees.

Half the trouble at Qantas is the employees' failure to recognise how the game has changed for their company, robbing them of their former bargaining power. The other half is the arrogance of management in their resort to ''managerial prerogative'', in their failure to explain and debate the new realities with their staff.

It's painfully clear management-employee relations within Qantas are utterly poisonous. The blame for that should be shared equally. The fate of Qantas is important in its own right, but it's more important as a case study in how big, unionised companies cope with structural change.

The industrial parties need to reach an accommodation, not rush to the ref. But I agree with Professor Paul Gollan, of Macquarie University, that Fair Work needs to provide a better mechanism to help the parties argue through their differences in cases where belligerence on either side threatens to impose unnecessary hardship on the parties and the public.

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Shouting slogans will not further Fair Work debate

It's a compelling narrative: in the 1980s we deregulated the financial markets, slashed import protection and deregulated many markets for particular products. But then it dawned on us that deregulated, highly competitive product markets could hardly co-exist with a centralised, highly regulated labour market.

So Paul Keating started to deregulate the labour market, ending centralised wage-fixing and moving to collective bargaining at the enterprise level. The Liberals' Peter Reith introduced a formal system of individual contracts, Australian workplace agreements, then John Howard completed the process of deregulation by introducing Work Choices.

But then Labor used Julia Gillard's Fair Work Act to re-regulate the labour market. So we've reverted to our original problem of having a regulated labour market that simply doesn't fit with deregulated, trade-exposed product markets.

Just one problem with this neat analysis: it adds up only if you don't actually know much about how the labour market is regulated. The notion that Work Choices deregulated the market and Fair Work re-regulated it is simple, but makes no sense.

Consider this: the Work Choices legislation was much longer, more complex and more intrusive than the law it replaced. Does that sound like deregulation? The Fair Work legislation is considerably shorter and more straightforward. Does that sound like re-regulation?

One of the main complaints against Fair Work is that it has removed the list of ''prohibited content'' about which employers were prevented from agreeing with their unions. Inserting prohibitions in the law is deregulation? Removing prohibitions is re-regulation?

One thing Work Choices did was greatly bureaucratise the right to take industrial action, with the intention of discouraging it. Unions have to hold a postal ballot of their members and achieve a certain proportion of votes to commence a bargaining period after the expiry of their last enterprise agreement.

Then they have to hold another postal ballot before they can undertake protected industrial action during the bargaining period. Then they have to give 72 hours' notice of any action they actually intend to take.

By contrast, employers don't have to jump through any hoops or give any notice when they decide to retaliate by locking out their staff during a bargaining period.

These provisions of Work Choices were carried over largely unchanged in Fair Work. Do they sound terribly pro-union? Do they sound like deregulation? Does continuing them in Fair Work constitute re-regulation?

Confused yet? The simple truth is that ''deregulation'' isn't a sensible description of what Work Choices did and, in consequence, ''re-regulation'' isn't a sensible description of what Fair Work does.

Here's the point: the labour market has always been highly regulated. It remained highly regulated under Work Choices and it's still highly regulated under Fair Work. It's always likely to stay highly regulated for a simple reason: unlike all other markets, the labour market deals with human beings rather than the exchange of inanimate objects.

As a matter of politics, common humanity and common sense, the treatment of people in the labour market will always be carefully regulated. We are, after all, running the economy for the benefit of people.

What changes from time to time is not so much the degree of regulation as the objectives of that regulation. There's a fundamental imbalance of bargaining power between an individual worker and even the smallest employer.

So the main issue the regulation deals with is what should be done about that imbalance. The usual answer - the world over - is to permit workers to bargain collectively.

What Work Choices did - in its original form, at least, before Howard realised he'd gone further than the public would cop - was make individual bargaining far more attractive to employers by removing the ''no-disadvantage test'' which had limited the extent to which workers' wages and conditions could be reduced. A lot of the regulation it added to the system was to constrain the freedom of those employers who chose to continue bargaining collectively with their employees. And it further tightened restrictions on what unions could do.

Howard shifted the balance heavily in favour of employers and tried to delegitimise the (already declining) union movement. It's hardly surprising Labor used its first opportunity to shift the balance back the other way. What is surprising is how many of Work Choices' anti-union provisions it left intact.

All systems of collective bargaining permit unions to take ''protected'' industrial action, subject to certain tight conditions. Why do they need protection? What are they protected from? From being sued by employers in the civil courts because of the economic damage that action has done to the employers' businesses.

See what this means? It means that even if we really did attempt to deregulate the labour market by abolishing the industrial relations act, it would still be regulated by ordinary commercial law and common law. In that imaginary world, it would not be illegal to strike or take other industrial action, but any damage unions inflicted on employers - which, after all, is the very object of industrial action - would leave the unions open to being sued.

So, for all practical purposes, collective bargaining would be impossible - would be prevented by (ordinary civil law) regulation - unless governments regulated to specify the circumstances in which it would be permitted by being protected from actions for civil damages.

Still think it makes sense to talk about deregulating or re-regulating the labour market? There's always legitimate ground for us to debate whether the balance our industrial relations regulation strikes - between protecting workers on the one hand and achieving an efficient-functioning economy on the other - should be shifted in one direction or the other.

But shouting slogans at each other - it's deregulation if I like the latest changes; it's re-regulation if I don't - won't advance the debate one jot.

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