Politics is an image game, and the government needs to find better visuals

Politics at its most visceral is visual, which is why governments and oppositions spend so much time crafting the perfect image. Burnishing and beavering away to dispel the dismal, disguise the dishonest and nudge the narrative.

When it gets really fun is when the unexpected happens. Like a purposeful set-up that backfires, embarrassing the participants. Awks, as the kids might say.

There have been many examples over the years, but there was something in the air this week that rekindled memories of a 2015 photograph of then-prime minister Tony Abbott and his treasurer, Joe Hockey.

Taken in the prime minister's office on the eve of that year's budget, the photograph captured the two men side-by-side. Abbott leans to his left and puts a pastoral hand on Hockey's bare forearm.

Hockey looks miserable. Forlorn. Like a man beaten. Which it turned out he was. As was Abbott.

The photo was taken 12 months after what was regarded at the time as one of the least popular budgets in history: the notorious 2014 edition with all its broken-promise spending cuts.

A year later, still in its first term but with an eye on the coming election in 2016, the Coalition released its second budget at a time of deep poll trouble.

Hemmed in by the Senate and a popular backlash against the cuts, a politically battered and bruised Hockey was forced to shelve his ambitions for big reform that began when he declared an end to the "age of entitlement".

Instead, his second budget was a plodding affair full of cash handouts that spent almost every dollar saved. It was panned by the economic commentariat as a do-little effort that left the country drifting sideways.

Having Abbott sit with Hockey was intended to demonstrate unity and resolve. Instead, it produced snickering.

Four months later, almost to the day, both men were out of their jobs, rolled by Malcolm Turnbull who cited the fact Abbott had lost 30 straight NewsPolls to Labor.

What's the relevance of this?

Towards the end of Question Time on Wednesday — a day of bleak news on the economy, with rising inflation and interest rate worries — the prime minister got a question from the opposition about when he plans to replace Jim Chalmers with cabinet secretary Andrew Charlton.

The question was a political shit stir, designed to highlight the bad blood between the prime minister and treasurer.

Albanese used his answer to pump up the treasurer, who has made no secret in recent weeks of his frustration at being seen as the locus of blame for everything wrong with the government.

"This treasurer produced back-to-back surpluses," the prime minister began, before laying it on thick.

"This treasurer returned 75 per cent of revenue upgrades to the bottom line. He's one of only nine treasurers of finance ministers around the world to have a AAA credit rating from all of the agencies."

As he sat listening, Chalmers had the air of a man who wasn't entirely over the moon about the praise. How helpful it was, given tensions in the air, is debatable.

It certainly reminded those who saw it of the pressure Chalmers is under, which is looking more and more like an uncontrolled pile-on.

Going through some things

The risk when prime ministers have to defend their treasurers in a performative manner is that it sets tongues wagging.

Why now? What's the goal? Who is he trying to convince?

"If Jim could have flipped Albanese the bird in the middle of it, he would have," said one Labor observer.

A cynical interpretation is that the prime minister was also reminding the public that it's the treasurer who owns the government's economic story.

Which — as Donald Trump once said of an ill-fated US ambassador to Ukraine — is "going to go through some things".

Next week will almost certainly be brutal for the government, given the likelihood of another Reserve Bank rate hike on Tuesday, the fifth this year.

The prime minister will be in the Caribbean for a Commonwealth Heads Of Government Meeting (CHOGM), leaving Chalmers to face the music.

Like a rogue wave bouncing off a seawall, a story then appeared on Friday in the Sydney Morning Herald citing "government sources", suggesting Chalmers is a victim rather than villain of the government's deteriorating economic story.

The Herald quoted people saying that Chalmers' push for spending discipline was obstructed by the prime minister's razor gang in the lead-up to the May budget. And that his heroic fiscal rectitude was undermined by the prime minister's inner cabal of spendy left-faction ministers, led by Katie Gallagher, Mark Butler, Penny Wong and Tim Ayres.

This columnist has heard similar tales.

Alarmingly for the government more broadly, it hints at a shift in the underlying ecosystem of the government. It is far from irretrievable or terminal — and old hands speak of the current tensions as nothing compared to the Gillard-Rudd years. But the change is noticeable. 

People are getting jittery, looking sideways. The easy confidence of key figures in the government is dwindling.

The souring reality

This week — like workers returning to the office on a Monday to discover the fridge stopped working over the weekend — drove home the sense that things that used to be certain have gone off.

Next to the soured milk sits the slightly whiffy items of the government's thus-far successful operating model — like the notion that cabinet stability is an unquestionable virtue. The government is in its fifth year, and many ministers have been in their portfolios since 2019.

As this columnist noted in February, some of Labor's frontbench is starting to look tired.

Nearly eight months on and that hasn't changed. Too many are carrying baggage. Punters have tired of them. Their lines resonate a little less each day.

One view is that it's also strange that Labor is not making opportunities for its next generation of leaders. The backbench is full of talent, some of whom are reduced to nodding for the Question Time camera.

Another souring reality is that Labor can no longer blame the previous government for all of today's problems, even if that were true.

Finally, on the war against Iran, it's not clear voters are as forgiving of the consequences as they were in March, April and May, when the government scrambled to secure fuel supplies. Back then, voters blamed Donald Trump.

Today's mood — as reflected in the polls, social media comments and political observers — suggests voters are blaming the government for rising transport costs.