There is greatness in a system that tolerates public grumbling. Australia’s brand of democracy is a wonderful thing, in which the integrity of every referendum and election relies on the care, commitment and community spirit of thousands of ordinary citizens. People like you and me. It is citizen civics (expertly coordinated by the AEC) and something about which to be proud.
“You must be Matthew. Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here.” It sounds like the opening line of a television sketch comedy program. It was in fact the greeting from the officer-in-charge that began my long day’s journey into night as a polling assistant on referendum day, 14 October 2023, for the Indigenous Voice to Parliament.
Much has been written about the merits of the Voice. But little about the experience of working where voting is done.
I arrived at 7am, one of two men and three women of diverse ages and professions, at a small polling centre in a school hall in Sydney’s inner west. I left more than 12 hours later after counting votes and cleaning up.
“This place brings back bad memories,” said one voter with a smile when the doors opened at 8am. “Why, were you a student here?” I asked. “No, my children were. All those parent-teacher nights.”
Australia’s brand of democracy is a wonderful thing. Where else sizzles sausages while you wait and permits pooches to accompany you to the polls? For some, the smell of fried onions makes compulsory voting bearable. The ancient Greeks would surely approve.
Alas, there was no BBQ at our polling place, which some voters reckoned, with mixed feelings, was why the queue was short.
I enjoy civics and serving a process that enables voting, across a land as wide and brown as ours, to happen speedily, accurately and safely. That’s not something all democracies can boast. Although a couple of referendum voters wanted a pen to mark their ballot paper instead of the usual pencil, “so my vote can’t be rubbed out.”
Overwhelming, voters were friendly, listened to instructions carefully and performed their duty without fuss. Sometimes without shoes. And, presumably, without doubt that their wishes would be respected. The trust is well-placed.
Citizens have few tasks more important than to vote on matters of significance to the future of the nation. Be they proposals to alter the Constitution or change governments. Equally important is the task of helping voting happen without a hitch.
My colleagues for the day shared similar beliefs. People don’t give up a chunk of their weekend to ask “Address please?” hundreds of times for the hi-vis vest alone. Even if it comes in a jacaranda hue. The work is purposeful and satisfying. It comes with training and payment. Tasks are performed diligently and with impartiality. Accountability and camaraderie ensue.
No one in the polling centre at which I worked, including the scrutineers and area supervisor who joined us later in the day, was a full-time employee of the Australian Electoral Commission (AEC).
The integrity of every referendum and election in Australia relies on the care, commitment and community spirit of thousands of ordinary citizens. People like you and me. It is citizen civics (expertly coordinated by the AEC) and something about which to be proud.
But it’s not for everyone. I was required to ask every voter if they had already voted in this referendum. “Why would I want to vote twice? It’s bad enough to be dragged out once!” said one. There is greatness in a system that tolerates public grumbling.
Interestingly, one of my co-workers came from Europe and told me about the struggles her family endured to retain basic political rights in the aftermath of World War II and the creep of Soviet communism. Australia’s democracy sausage is rarefied meat.
That said, some irreverence keeps us grounded. Shortly after the doors in our polling centre opened, pop music unexpectedly burst from the speakers in the hall and around the school grounds, lasting several minutes. The weekday student roundup alert hadn’t been deactivated.
While awkward at the time, several hours later, when ‘business’ had slowed, someone was heard wishing the music would make an encore.
Perhaps the best ‘sound’ all day was the response from a parent to my friendly banter about whether their obviously underage child was voting today too. “Not yet,” said the parent, “but we have been talking about it.” Democracy works best when citizens are informed. It is never too soon. Or too late.
Whatever one makes of the outcome from the Voice referendum, we can trust in the process and the people that manage how voting took place. Australia gets that right. It is something we can all support.
Matthew Gibbs
Matthew Gibbs is a freelance writer, speaker and communications consultant.