Adjournment Debate

Valedictories

Ms REDMOND (Heysen) (15:48): In many ways, it seems as if it was only yesterday that I was standing in pretty much the same place, on the backbench in opposition, to make my maiden speech in this place. Peter Lewis had just given government to Labor, a decision which history will no doubt show was pivotal in the fortunes, or rather misfortunes, of this state.

Graham Gunn, member for Stuart, ultimately serving 39 years and 10 months in this place, wandered along and said in his usual gruff manner, 'I'll let you read this speech, but if I catch you reading any speeches hereafter I'll rip the paper out of your hands and leave you standing there.' Like a frightened schoolgirl on her first day in high school, I believed him, so for the most part I make speeches rather than reading prepared comments. But on this occasion, probably to the relief of Hansard—and at the outset I should thank them for always making my comments seem more coherent than they probably were—I do intend to read to ensure that I remember to say all that I intend.

Ever since that first speech, there has been one certainty about my last speech and that is that, first and foremost, I would thank and acknowledge my parents. If you read my maiden speech, you will see that they do not even rate a mention. That was not because of any oversight on my part but, rather, because I knew I would not be able to hold it together if I did mention them. You see, I had given the eulogy at my mother's funeral just two weeks before I gave my maiden speech. She had died shortly after I was elected, but she was in a state of profound dementia for three years prior to that, so she had no understanding even of who I was let alone the significant event which had just begun the next phase of my life.

I want to spend a few moments, therefore, telling you about my parents, who clearly had a profound influence on me and the path my life has taken. If he were still alive, my father, Frank Sim, would have turned 100 on 6 November. He died in November 1999, aged 82, just as I was being preselected as the candidate for Heysen and did not live to see that. He was born in Sydney in 1917, in the midst of World War I, and forced to leave school to help support the family at just 15 years of age because of the Great Depression.

He later became a member of the Light Horse (a bit like the modern-day defence reserves) and was actually away at camp when World War II was declared, in September 1939. He enlisted soon after in the AIF and served as a sapper in the 9^th Division Engineers in Tobruk, El Alamein and then New Guinea, managing to come home long enough in between the Middle East and Pacific theatres of war to court and marry my mother, who had actually grown up in the same street. It is still there, The Glen Road, Arncliffe, and there are still houses there built by my Scottish stonemason grandfather bearing the date of construction made from locally quarried sandstone.

My mother, Eva Sim (nee Paterson), was born in Scotland in 1920 and migrated to Australia at the age of four or five. She had likewise been forced to leave school at the age of 14 because of the depression, and her parents felt that it was more important that their son be educated. She loved school but was denied her education, partly because of the economic circumstances and partly because of the gender biases which prevailed at the time. She spent the rest of her life trying to make up for that lack of education, always watching the news, current affairs, documentaries, belonging to a music club and enrolling in art appreciation classes and so on.

After the war, my father built the house in which we grew up made of second-hand timbers and fibro on half an acre of rocky ground on the then far outreaches of Sydney, in a town called Engadine in the Shire. References to me being a hobbit because I am not very tall and I come from the Shire have been made constantly.

The Hon. M.J. Atkinson: Wollongong way.

Ms REDMOND: It is almost halfway to Wollongong, as the Speaker directly points out. Engadine is bounded on one side by the railway and the Royal National Park and on the other by natural bush and the Woronora River. The bush that surrounded us was our playground. Our time in that natural playground was largely unsupervised, and I really had a pretty idyllic childhood as the fourth of five children very much of the baby boomer generation.

My parents were part of the foundation of the community involved in setting up the Presbyterian Church and the Scottish Association. My father belonged to the local bushfire brigade and the civil defence, and later joined Rotary. My mother served on school canteens (five at one stage), worked in op shops and helped with the church fetes and all the usual things that bind communities together. Unsurprisingly then, I grew up with the expectation that whatever your talents might be you exercise them for the betterment of your community.

Before I turned 12, I was teaching at Sunday School, and I remained very committed to the local church and fellowship throughout my teenage years—although I would now describe myself as a heathen. Nevertheless, I clearly had a passion for community service, which has stayed with me throughout my life. Indeed, my passion for issues concerning ageing, which remains strong today, stems from regular visits in my teenage years to the state-run nursing home, Garrawarra, which housed the forgotten elderly who had nowhere else to go.

I want to spend a few minutes describing the influence of my parents and how they affected my motivations for entering politics because I think it helps explain why I now know that it is time for me to leave. I am of a different generation, motivated by different things. Furthermore, I am completely and utterly uninterested in technology, modern communications and the ways of politics today.

The other key factor in my background of course is my legal background, and again there is some stuff that I want to put on the record. People often assume that because I practised as a lawyer before entering this place I have had a fairly privileged background, and probably private school followed by some great years at university.

The reality was I had to fight to become a lawyer. My mother, having been denied her education, was keen that I pursue mine. With a scholarship, I was able to finish high school. At my high school, about 80 per cent of the students left at year 10, and my mother wanted me to become a teacher or a nurse. The idea of me studying law was a source of great distress between us. Our fights when I was 16 were not about boys, short skirts, late nights, make-up, alcohol or any of the more predictable things; our screaming battles were about my desire to study law, which was not a suitable career choice for a girl, according to my mother.

I was offered a place in both Sydney University Law School and the brand-new law school just starting at the University of New South Wales, but I could not take up either place. In those days, with very few exceptions, university was only for the wealthy. The fees for one year of law school were $2,500 and my father's income was less than $6,000 before tax. I think the abolition of university fees by Gough Whitlam was probably the greatest social change of the last 50 years at least.

Accepting the offered place was just unthinkable. Instead, I went to work full time and studied at night for five years, having no holidays to speak of as I had to take two weeks of annual leave every six months as preparation for exams. Continuing to live way out on the outskirts of Sydney was not viable either because that involved leaving home by 7am, catching two trains to get to the city, working all day, travelling out to Sydney Uni for two or three hours of lectures and then walking alone through Redfern to the nearest train station to catch two trains to arrive back home by 11 o'clock at night.

So I moved to a flat near the university and, three months out of high school, I was therefore making my own way in the world, living independently and paying my own way. It should be obvious by now why I feel increasingly like a fish out of water in this place. The things that motivate me are no longer relevant and my view of the world is completely at odds much of the time with that of my colleagues on either side of the house.

Enough of my motivations. It is much more important that I use this precious opportunity to thank so many people who have helped me very much along this path in politics, which is now coming to an end. Of course, it is always a little dangerous to name names in thanking people as there will always be some who are not named but who believe they deserve to be, and there are simply too many people who have helped me on this unbelievable journey for me to name everyone. So, in advance, I beg forgiveness from anyone I do not mention: please believe me when I say that I realise no-one succeeds in this life generally, and certainly not in a political life, without the help of an enormous number of people.

First and foremost, I want to thank my family: my sisters Judy and Deirdre and their husbands Bob and Dennis, my brother Keith and his wives, and my brother Steve. They all live in other states, but I was always aware of their love and support and, when they could manage it, they gave hands-on help during various election campaigns. My immediate family here consists of my three children Matthew, Noah and Vanessa, who are now exceptional young adults but were still teenagers when I began the path to preselection and election. My daughter wants it noted that, rather than being a 'reasonably decent' child, she is a 'reasonably indecent' child.

My children have had to put up with quite a lot over the years. At least they were old enough not to be dragged to endless political functions and photo opportunities, but they did get tired at times of people assuming that they obviously held the same views as me about any issue, and they found it a little frustrating that, on the rare occasions they went to see a doctor, the first question was often, 'How is your mum?' But they accepted it all with good grace and made an art form out of ensuring that their mother kept her feet well and truly on the ground no matter how lofty the office she held. The ridicule to which I was subjected around the dinner table knew no bounds.

Of course, over the 16 years in here, things have changed in terms of the family dynamic. Firstly, my husband, Jim, and I separated in 2004, not because of the job but simply because, after nearly 30 years together, the relationship was no longer working. We remain friends and I will always be grateful that he recognised right from the beginning of our relationship in 1975 that the only way to hold me was to accept my independence, so he was always a good support in my political career and for that I thank him. Later, my eldest son, Matt, married his wonderful wife, Tegan, and, together, they have brought into my life the added joy of my dear little grandson Austin and, just two weeks ago, my new little grandson Emmett.

One of the many joys of political life has been the wonderful staff who have helped and supported me, some of whom I simply must mention specifically. Gaynor came to work with me from the moment I began in my legal practice in Stirling and has remained faithfully there serving me through thick and thin, ups and downs, joys and sorrows for almost a quarter of a century. She manages my office and my life. She manages to always maintain a friendly, helpful demeanour, no matter how trying the circumstances, interpreting my grouchy 'no' response into an acceptable apology on many occasions and always protecting and aiding me with 110 per cent effort and 120 per cent loyalty.

Nick came to work for me in my first year as the member for Heysen—funnily enough, the media kept saying that I could not hold staff—and he has been with me ever since. Like Gaynor, his loyalty has been absolute. I think that there is a lot to be said for employing staff who do not have political ambitions themselves but who are loyal to you and your cause. These days, there are two others in the office: April, who works three days a fortnight and has done me the honour of coming in, and Kay, who fills in as a locum. Both come with considerable political experience.

Kay goes back to the days of Steele Hall and is a fount of information about a bygone era, and April brings incredible energy, light and fun to the office. Her husband, by the way, was my legal clerk in my legal practice many years ago. I like to think that it is a happy, productive office and one that my constituents value. I hope that I have not been too bad a boss, although I am keenly aware that there were times when I must have tested their patience to its limits. For those times I apologise, and for the good times I thank them.

Equally, I owe sincere gratitude to those who worked for me in my 3½ years as leader. Having been thrust into the role of leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition rather unexpectedly—and I will say more about that presently—I was blessed to have staff up in Stirling who kept my office operating seamlessly in spite of, or perhaps because of, my very occasional appearances there. Equally important, though, was the exceptional group of people who worked so tirelessly to support me in the leader's office.

Although there were many, including Therese Kenny, Tim Melrose, Georgina McGuiness and others, there are three people in particular who deserve special mention. My chief of staff, Bev Barber, who stepped into the role almost as unexpectedly as I had become leader, left no opportunity unused and no minute unoccupied in trying to make me the state's first female premier. No-one could have served me better in that role, and I know that Bev let no opportunity to assist me go unused. I am sure that PwC will regret their recent decision that led to her leaving that firm.

At her side, working as part of this tight little trio with me, was Andrew Coombe, my media adviser. I could not have had a better one. I think it was Rob Lucas who gave him the nickname Elbows after he needed to physically protect me out of a situation. Andrew, too, devoted every waking minute to my political fortunes, mostly talking to people in the media and trying to get across my view, but on many occasions becoming literally both bodyguard and handbag carrier.

The third person who made my life possible as leader and who deserves special mention is my driver, Warren Bartsch. As someone who enjoys driving, I had always worried that I would not like being driven by someone else, but the hours involved and the distances required meant that, quite simply, I could not have done the job without him. Ever the gentleman, always discreet, I felt unbelievably lucky to have someone who did all the thinking about getting to wherever, parking and all the other details.

There are also a couple of friends who deserve special mention, notably my next-door neighbour of 39 years, Chris, and our other mutual friend, Christine. Chris and I have been best friends and neighbours since I moved in next door in Stirling in 1978. We have raised our children side by side and are now blessed with grandchildren. Chris is the sort of friend who, if you phoned her in the middle of the night, would instantly come to help, no questions asked.

Our friendship has not been at no cost to her. She has even had to put up with suggestions that we are a lesbian couple. The Labor Party likes to make out that it is all in favour of LGBTIQ equality, but it still tries to use the suggestion that someone is gay as a way to diminish them politically. The hypocrisy of this is what annoys me, not the suggestion itself. Just for the record, I am not gay and nor is Chris; if I were, I would just say so.

They say in politics that if you want a friend, buy a dog. It is largely true that, if you are lucky, the friends you had before you began will be the friends you still have afterwards, but you do not expect to make many new friends along the way. Acquaintances, yes, many; but actual friends, not so likely. But my time as leader did bring me into contact with one person in particular who has become a friend, and that is Geoff Michels, who spent an inordinate amount of time trying to improve my capacity to get my message across succinctly. Whilst his efforts to improve my media skills may not have been successful, it has at least meant a new friendship and one that I truly value.

There are so many colleagues and former colleagues in this place whose input, guidance and advice I have valued that I did not intend to name any of them—but I will. There are some who deserve special mention. In particular, in this place there were three excellent men who served as my deputy when I was leader: the member for Goyder, the member for MacKillop, and our current leader, the member for Dunstan. The leader knows that he has my absolute loyalty and support, and I dearly hope to see him as the Premier of this state in a few months.

I would like to focus, in particular, on the two who are also leaving at the March election. Both served me with absolute loyalty, and for that I thank them. The media, I think, often misunderstands the role of a deputy in politics. While you are facing outwards towards the public and the media the deputy's role is to stand, figuratively, back to back with you to ensure that the rest of the team is happy, focused, working hard and loyal. I know that while I was leader, each in their turn had my back rather than being the sort of deputy who was simply looking for the best opportunity to put the knife in it.

One of my clearest regrets, and complete failure of good judgement on my part, was that I asked the member for Goyder to step down as my deputy after the 2010 election. He mentioned in his contribution yesterday what a hard blow that was to him although, being the good and faithful deputy that he was, he accepted it with good grace and continued thereafter to work hard for the cause. The reason for my request was that the member for Goyder had, in interview right at the end of a long and successful campaign, phrased a response to a question in a way that allowed the government a last chance to turn their fortunes around. It was never done with malice or with any intention to do anything but assist the cause. Nevertheless, it was seen as one of two things in the last week that saw us fall short of achieving government.

With the benefit of hindsight, I am not convinced of that, but everyone advised me that I had to ditch the member for Goyder as my deputy. My instincts said otherwise, but all the advice from every direction was that he had to go, and I have regretted ever since that instead of following my instinct to keep him as deputy I listened to advice from supposedly wiser political heads—and 'sorry', some time later, no matter how genuine, cannot really make up for the damage done.

As for my other colleagues, suffice to say that they have no doubt despaired many times at my inadequacies and my pig-headedness. To those who are also leaving, I wish you every happiness in whatever the future holds. Likewise, to those who are going on I wish you electoral as well as personal good fortune; most of all, I hope that when you do get into government you use the opportunity wisely and well to give this state the benefits it so richly deserves.

There are some people who served on my SEC who very much deserve to be mentioned, in particular Barb Evans and Lois Allen, who have been there supporting and advising me since before I was even preselected. Again, there are too many to mention them all, but Brian Reid, Chris Zanker and Mike Newberry, as presidents, were all exceptional contributors. Jeff Mincham, whose real talent, of course, is as a ceramic artist of considerable renown, can turn his hand to a political campaign just as eloquently. Happily he is now engaged in assisting Josh Teague, who is also in the audience today, as he seeks to become the new member for Heysen. To them and to all those who have provided support to me over the years I can only say 'thank you'.

The biggest thanks of all, of course, must be given the people of Heysen. They put their trust and their faith in me not once but on four occasions. No doubt, I did not please all the people all the time, but I hope they know that I did my best to represent them. It has been the greatest privilege of my life by far to have been allowed to say that I am the member for Heysen.

Although I think I have worked pretty hard in this role of representing the people of that wonderful part of the state, as all members know—because all of us do work pretty hard, and very few members of the public appreciate that—it would be remiss of me to suggest that it was all very serious. In particular, in those early days when we sat Monday to Thursday, two weeks on and one week off, often until very late in the evening or very early morning, there was, I think, a certain, camaraderie, a sense that we were all in this together even though we might be on opposite sides.

As the Speaker mentioned yesterday, we spent many hours in this chamber, often the only two engaged in lengthy debates over legal technicalities as attorney-general and shadow attorney-general. I think he probably did not know that people like the Deputy Speaker, the member for Florey, and the member for Ashford were encouraged to engage him in discussion with them while I was speaking because I had made it clear to them that every time he interjected upon me I would speak for 10 minutes longer.

A couple of other particularly funny events occurred. There was one evening fairly early on when Speaker Lewis, in his long wig, fell asleep in the Speaker's chair. Graham Gunn was on his feet, providing a remark on something, and he said, 'I'm pleased to see, Mr Speaker, that you are paying such close attention to my remarks on this matter.' The member for Schubert, Ivan Venning, then promptly went and laid himself down in front of the timber table there and began to snore quite loudly.

One of my other favourite events concerns the member for Colton. The member for Colton, fairly early on in this place, followed a speech by the member for Bright. The member for Colton was apparently the only person in the room who did not realise that the former member for Bright actually wore a hairpiece. The member for Colton, with his fine head of hair, began his speech by saying something like, 'It's always a pleasure to follow the member for Bright because we seem to have followed each other through life. We both went to the same kindergarten and school. We went to Henley High School together. We even began university together and became involved in politics at university, albeit on opposite sides. Indeed, here we are now in this place. It seems the only way in which I can't emulate the member for Bright is in his ability to grow a head of hair.' The place erupted, with everyone but the member for Colton understanding what it was that was so funny. He soon found out, I am sure.

On another very funny occasion—and it is a story that is not well known—Iain Evans, the former member for Davenport, was the leader, and he had placed one of his business cards on my car. I had parked it in front of parliament. I did not find it until the next day, but on the business card he had written, 'I love you.' I was a bit concerned when I found this the next day because I thought, 'We're good mates, Iain, but that's a really odd thing to say.' So, as soon as I got down to parliament that day, I came round to the leader's office, and he rushed out as soon as he caught sight of me, hoping that I was the person.

What had happened was that he and I had almost identical cars. It was in the days when we were trying to save Mitsubishi, so we had all gone into Mitsubishi 380s. I had the same coloured car with almost the same numberplate—it was probably consecutive or something. He thought his wife had parked their car in front and so he had left her a note. Then he went home that night and he said to his wife, Fiona, 'Did you get my note?' 'What note?' she said. 'The note I left on the car.' 'I didn't get any note.' He said, 'When you were parked in front of parliament.' She said, 'I haven't left my car parked in front of parliament.' He began to panic all night, thinking which member he had given this note to.

There are some very funny things that happen, and it is good to remember that it is not all knives and daggers in here, but there are some other matters I wish to touch upon. The first is my time as leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition. It was not a role I ever contemplated seeking. It came about quite by accident. In early July 2009, there was a contest for the leadership between the member for Bragg and the then leader, the member for Waite, who won the contest by one vote. I took the view that the deputy leader, having contested the leadership, could not then continue as deputy, so I sought that position and I was so elected.

It was only when I was in the courtyard doing media later that day as the newly elected deputy that the re-elected leader suddenly announced that a win by one vote was not good enough. He was recommitting the leadership to a further ballot in three days' time. I note in passing that Tony Abbott only won his leadership by one vote but went on to become the prime minister. In any event, I then phoned the member for Waite over the weekend to advise him that he had forced my hand. Whilst I had never intended to seek the leadership, I knew that if we had the same ballot with the same contestants we were going to get the same result, and then we would have no real chance of contesting the 2010 election.

So, having become the Steven Bradbury of South Australian Liberal politics, there are few things I should like to say about my time as leader. Firstly, having been leader or just over 3½ years, I felt so damaged by the experience that it was all of 3½ years afterwards before I could even talk about the experience without becoming deeply distressed. Because I came into the job never having to aspired to it, giving it up was a relief not a disappointment. I took it on because my colleagues—or a majority of them at least—felt that I offered the best hope of success. I gave it up on the morning I came to the certain realisation that we could not win the election with me as leader.

It was the most difficult, debilitating, isolating and physically and emotionally exhausting experience of my life. The first time I was asked about whether I would do it again, about a year after I had stood down, I was unable to answer because even a year later the awful negative aspects, which left me feeling emotionally battered, still overwhelmed any contemplation of the positives. Now, almost five years on, I have regained enough of my resilience and centre balance, enough of myself, to say, yes, I probably would.

The bad times, which took me to some pretty dark places, cannot overwhelm the amazing experiences I had, most of which involved the people of this state opening their hearts and their minds and, often, even their homes to me. I was given the rare privilege of seeing what really goes on across this wonderful state. Of course, the position is also one of incredible privilege, not just of one of having a driver and, of necessity, a cleaner and a gardener at home, but also of invitations to the best events, showcasing the talents we have, be that opera or football, theatre or tourism, engaging with business leaders and listening to those who serve our community across all sectors in all sorts of capacities.

The resilience, which my parents, family and upbringing had gifted me, was sorely tested to breaking point through many times during my time as leader. I owe particular thanks to Joe Levy, who has been my doctor since before I was first elected to this place, for the support, assistance, advice and understanding, not to mention time, he extended to me way above and beyond the call of duty. No amount of saying thank you will ever suffice.

Now at this distance I can at last say: what a ride. It was a truly extraordinary experience, from the exhilaration of that first few months, going from unknown entity, even within the Liberal Party, to almost achieving the impossible dream of winning the 2010 election. I am still most famous around the state and the nation, of course, because of being tasered. I just want to tell you the story, Madam Deputy Speaker, in case you are not familiar with it.

I had reannounced our very ordinary policy that we thought our police should be allowed to have tasers on their accoutrements belt. I reannounced it at the Police Association conference and did media about it afterwards. And then gentle David Bevan rang me the next morning to say would I come on with Matt and Dave. Matt, meanwhile, was plotting—because they did play gotcha politics—and his plot involved asking me as the opening question, 'So, Isobel Redmond, are you prepared to be tasered?' Well, of course, Matt was assuming that I would try to avoid the question by saying something like, 'I will if you will, Matt,' or, 'That's not what it's about, Matt.' But I am too dumb to do those sorts of things, so I simply responded, 'If that's what it takes.'

I continued on my journey, which that morning happened to be going to the Zoo, where I was feeding the tigers, an appropriate thing for a leader of the opposition to do. But I then came out, and there was Daniela Ritorto with a cameraman saying, 'About your volunteering to be tasered.' Everyone who undertakes this political life knows that you have to learn to keep a straight face, and so I did not bat an eyelid and I did an interview with Daniela. By the time I got back to parliament, the entire press corps was on the front steps of Parliament House asking me about when I was going to be tasered.

The Hon. M.J. Atkinson: You killed us. You killed our law and order policy.

Ms REDMOND: I know; I will come to that. I was being asked all sorts of questions about this tasering. Notably, Michael Owen, one of the Speaker's favourite journalists, said to me, 'If you die, who will be leader?' To which I responded something like, 'Well, I'm not planning to die, and if I did why would I care?' Meantime, the police commissioner, out of the corner of my eye I saw coming up to my office, up the front steps of Parliament House. If I had wanted to see the police commissioner, it would have taken two months of organising a meeting in the presence of someone. He came to try to talk me out of being tasered. Well, it was on.

As to the tasering, all the women will understand when I say five seconds of pain that ends after five seconds. I have had three babies—with no pain relief, full-term deliveries. Five seconds of pain? It was never a concern to me, but, funnily enough, both my very loyal deputy, Steven Griffiths, and my leader in the upper house, David Ridgway, told me later that they thought about offering to stand in for me, but they were too cowardly. On the day, however, they did come along, and they stood either side. Mind you, their questions were: 'Hey, this is electricity. Is it going to go through her to us, or can it misfire and hit us instead?'

I had been told I had to wear old clothes, which is a bit of a worry when you are told to wear old clothes. The only people in the room were my deputy, Steven Griffiths, and my leader in the upper house, David Ridgway—these two big burly fellas prepared to hold me, very generously—my doctor, who had volunteered to come along in case anything went wrong; my media adviser, Andrew Coombe; and the guy with the taser.

I was about from here to the member for Stuart away from the guy with the taser or maybe a little bit closer. I had my back to him and was being held by the two lads. He said, 'Are you ready?' When someone asks you that question, you think that they are going to wait until you say yes, but that would leave you the time to tense up, so they do not wait. 'Are you ready?' Bang and out come these two wires with two very significant steel bolts on the end with harpoon-like barbs that hit you and go straight through your clothing at 170-plus km/h. From the moment they hit you and catch onto your skin and 50,000 volts start charging through you. People most commonly ask, 'Did it hurt?' Well, yes.

Mr Griffiths: Do you remember what you said?

Ms REDMOND: And one and two and three—at about this time, I am thinking this was not a good idea, Isobel—and four and five, and it stopped. I said—and the member for Goyder just reminded me—'Shit, that hurt.' But I was one of only two people who had not uttered a sound during the tasering process itself. As the Speaker pointed out, Kevin Foley actually commented afterwards: 'We spent five years being tough on law and she dismantled it in five seconds.'

The Hon. M.J. Atkinson: That is absolutely true and a poll showed it.

Ms REDMOND: Yes, and it gave me an incredible amount of street cred with the younger generation, as well as being famous. I might actually tell you about the fact that I had a wonderful interview, which is still remembered in Melbourne by some people. Red Symons did an interview on the radio. He must have been with 3AW or something. We were on the radio live to air and he said, 'Isobel Redmond, my name is Redmond. That's where the Red comes from.' I said, 'You could come over here and marry me and become Redmond Redmond.' He said, 'I could come over and do the tasering and we could have a headline "Redmond Shoots Redmond".' We had a mad conversation, which apparently is still remembered by some people in Victoria.

Apart from the tasering though, what else can I say about being leader? Possibly the craziest day of all was the day the writs were issued in February 2010. The announcement by the then premier Rann was early in the morning, so my day began doing media down by the Torrens because we had a policy that, if he did something inside, we went outside. From there, I was driven to the Central Market, where I had to speak at the Chinese New Year celebrations. As soon as the fireworks were over, it was down to the wonderful Aldinga airport, where I was met by a 73-year-old pilot who had agreed to fly me over to Kangaroo Island in a single-engine plane for the KI Cup so that I could keep a longstanding promise to the member for Finniss to attend that particular event.

It was a single-engine plane, with just the pilot and me on board. Because we were not going to make it in time for the actual race, he flew over the race and dipped the plane to the side so that I could watch it from the air. The member for Finniss then met me at the airport and took me to the races, where I chatted with racegoers and presented the cup. We then went back to the plane which, by this time, was in the backyard of the pilot's house because he had had to refuel.

We took off from his backyard and flew back across Victor, Middleton, Goolwa and up to Wellington, dropped down to check the windsock for speed and direction, and then proceeded to the beautiful property on the shores of the lake, where we landed on a driveway that had been blocked on each end so that no cars would be on it at the time. One of the cars blocking the drive was the one Warren drove me around in. He met me from the plane, delivered me to the shearers' quarters, where I managed to shower and change before attending as guest speaker at a function being held against the backdrop of the lake which was at that time still severely drought affected. Once that was over, there was just the drive home from Wellington and my day had finished.

Although that particular day was memorable, the hours involved and the variety of activities were by no means unusual. Luckily, I had over many years been used to operating on relatively little sleep. The whole time I was leader, I rarely managed even six hours a night. These days, I get a good night's sleep virtually every night and realise how much better I feel both physically and emotionally.

Apart from being busy, as all leaders of the opposition are, did I achieve anything? In the member for Waite's view, the answer is clearly no. I know this because shortly after the 2010 election, he came to my office and explained to me that clearly any electoral success we had enjoyed was because of his policies and had nothing to do with me at all. Now that the election was out of the way, it was time for me to step out of the way and allow him to resume his rightful place as leader. I knew, of course, from the moment I declined that generous offer that there were now at least two separate agendas operating within the party room—actually, there were more. Happily, he is now the other side's problem and I have never known our party room to be more united.

I think the one thing I can claim as an achievement in opposition is the fact that we now have an ICAC in this state. I fought for years to get an ICAC, and I think it is probably my most significant achievement, given that I have spent 16 years, except for the first two hours, in opposition. I spent years arguing the case before bringing in the first private members' bill to establish an ICAC as shadow attorney-general in 2008. The policy was one of the four key issues which I took to the 2010 election as leader, and it was clearly a popular policy, as well as a clear point of difference with the government in that election. In fact, our current Premier even went so far as to acknowledge my contribution when, with the change of leader, they introduced the government's bill in 2012.

While I am glad that we now have an ICAC, it does not solve all of the problems. There are still opportunities for what I consider to be corrupt conduct. Imagine, for instance, if a member of parliament sexually assaulted a young trainee at her home and she made a complaint. If that complaint was made to go away by, for instance, promoting that trainee to an incredibly high position somewhere else in government, an ICAC investigation might find it impossible to prove the corruption or the conspiracy if the young woman, now in receipt of a wonderful salary, was unwilling to make a statement. So, hypothetically, I can see that we still have work to do in ensuring that the ICAC is equipped with the necessary legislative and legal framework to enable real consequences to flow for all involved if any such scenario were to occur.

The other significant thing during my leadership was the Roxby Downs indenture agreement, and the hoped for and planned for expansion of BHP's activities there. The joint party room had engaged intently with BHP for more than two years prior to considering the indenture, and then-treasurer Foley trusted me enough to allow myself and four other senior members of my shadow cabinet unfettered, unsupervised access to the document and to any number of specialist advisers—mining people, environmentalists, lawyers, whatever. Although in the event (and it seems like ancient history now) we did not get the outcome we had hoped for as a state, I am proud of the way we dealt with it. It was an outcome quite different from what would have resulted had we reverted to the leadership of the member for Waite. I wrote down, as he said them, his comments to the joint party room when we were considering the application to extend the indenture:

BHP knew they would screw this parliament on the indenture…BHP is giving absolutely nothing…this company in particular is no longer the Great Australian; it is the great multinational…they have played us like a guitar.

There is more, but I am sure you get the drift. Having engaged for more than two years with Dean Dalla Valle, head of uranium projects here, and having eyeballed and challenged then CEO Marius Kloppers across the boardroom table, I am satisfied that the approach we adopted was the right one. It is a shame it did not eventuate (yet), but it may well prove to be a boon for this state in some future time. I can only hope that any future parliament studies and works at it as assiduously as the Liberal team did at that time. I was proud of the way we worked on that.

I guess I cannot avoid commenting on the fact that, in becoming leader, I became the first woman to lead one of the major political parties in this state. It seems odd that having been one of the first places in the world to give women the right to vote, and being the very first place in the world to give women the right to stand for parliament, South Australia remains the only state or territory not to have yet had a female premier or chief minister. I am proud of the fact that I follow in the footsteps of the first two women elected: Joyce Steele in this house, and Jessie Cooper in the other place—both in 1959 and both Liberal women. But it is such an inevitable thing that I do not think it warrants more than a passing mention.

When I think about gender issues, I cannot help but note the comment about Ginger Rogers, the long-time on-screen partner of Fred Astaire. He received, it seemed, all the accolades as a wonderful dancer, but after all, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did; she just did it 'backwards and in high heels'. As for my treatment by the media, I do not think I could legitimately claim to have been treated any worse because of my gender. There were odd occasions, but for the most part, I felt that I was treated pretty much as I would have been regardless of gender. That is not to say that I consider their treatment generally fair or reasonable no all occasions.

For instance, I do not think it is reasonable to stake out someone's private home, as mine was on a number of occasions—sometimes for days. Nor is it fair to attend, uninvited at 7.30 on a Saturday morning and set up your cameras at the front door, specifically hoping to catch me unawares and unready. I do not think it is fair to create a photoshopped image of me on a Port Douglas beach for the front page of The Advertiser when I dared to take a week off—the only full week of holidays I had in 3½ years as leader. I do not intend to continue the list of times when I consider the media overstepped the mark, as we would be here all night.

I do think the media could do with some genuine introspection regarding its role, particularly in the political arena. Too often it seems they treat everything in which the public might be interested as being in the public interest. In reality, they are quite different concepts. So, in departing this place—partly because I have less than zero interest in modern technology: I am not on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram and would rather read a history book than bother with any of those wonders of the modern age—I want to close with a few musings about where we are headed in politics, in large part thanks to the cataclysmic shift caused by the impact of technology.

Firstly, it is notable that a large and increasing proportion of those under 35 years of age do not watch TV news, do not read newspapers and do not listen to talkback radio. The consequence of this, for them, is that they are largely having their existing views reinforced rather than challenged and the scope of their contemplation is narrowing at the very point when their sympathies probably need to enlarge.

The consequence for those who work in the media at large is that they will inevitably struggle for an audience and without an audience there is not much future employment. It is my belief that there is an important role for the media to perform. Their only hope of survival, it seems to me, lies in unearthing the facts—a sometimes difficult and time-consuming task—and understanding the background well enough to explain complex issues in an understandable way, providing thorough context and thoughtful analysis.

The news does not consist of filling up the spot on any issue by seeking comment from some random neighbour or passer-by or by asking inane questions at press conferences so that you have your own bit to camera. It so lowers the quality of political discourse that as soon as something like that is on the nightly news I change channels, so I often do not even make it through the first item, and I am an interested observer.

The next notable impact of technology is the exponential increase in the number of media advisers. It is commonly stated that the largest media employer in this state is the government. How did we get to this position, where a government employs more media people than the media? What a waste of taxpayers' money. Personally, my view was always that rather than trying to control what leads the news or what is on the front page of The 'Tiser, the best sign of a good government would be that you were keeping things operating so well there was nothing to report on.

In an ideal world, our hospitals, schools, public transport and so on would all be running so well that no-one had any complaints and there were thus no stories concerning government. All the money would be spent on improving the services provided. Instead, we have a government that can literally supply the finished article as an exclusive to its chosen media mouthpiece of the day on any topic.

Added to all of this, of course, is the impact of data mining. I have read articles about Trump's election which have posited that many of his more outrageous statements, reported here with consternation, were in fact targeted to specific groups identified through gathering information mined from Facebook, supermarkets, credit card transactions and online browsing. You name it, every interaction with technology is not only recorded but analysed and can be used to predict your preferences about all sorts of issues and, a bit like push-polling, can then be used to sway your voting intention.

This has led to a vast increase in the desire to acquire and analyse this information, seemingly unrelated to politics, but which is used to influence voter intention. Coupled with focus groups, which are used to lead rather than reflect political thinking, a pervasive, cynical attitude is developing that the way to win an election is to identify various popular, dare I say populist, issues and then go through a sort of tick-the-box exercise. So, if you put this candidate, ticking those boxes in those electorates, you will have electoral success.

I know I need to leave politics now that that is the modus operandi. I still believe we would be better served by politicians who really believe in something and are prepared to go out and argue the merits of their position, even when the focus groups are telling their media advisers, 'No.' In a final word about media advisers, they are the source, I am sure, of all those slogans, catchy phrases and one-line putdowns of the other side, which politicians of all persuasions use as the response to any question. I hate to break it to you, but it is not working.

Indeed, it is another one of those things that has me instantly switching channels on radio and TV. I repeat that I am a relatively interested observer, so if I am turning off I will guarantee that large numbers of others are not even starting by turning on. It seems glaringly obvious to me that the average voter perceives this, at best, disingenuous and, at worst, manipulative, and they are too smart to tolerate either. In fact, I think they, the voters, will forgive quite a bit when it comes to human foibles and even mistakes as long as they can see you are sincere and not hiding behind focus group workshopped slogans instead of, heaven forbid, actually expressing an honest opinion.

My last word, then, is a plea to those going on in this place. The only hope for real survival is to care about the things that matter, to think deeply about those things, to value honesty, integrity and the fundamental building blocks of our democracy, such as freedom of speech and separation of powers, and to be prepared to stand steadfastly for what you believe to be right no matter what the advisers might say about the political consequences. With that, I wish Joshua Teague every godspeed in becoming my replacement in this place, and I thank you for your indulgence, Madam Deputy Speaker.

Sitting extended beyond 17:00 on motion of Hon. S.E. Close.

Mr SNELLING (Playford) (16:35): When I first rose in this place, 20 years ago, I was a recently married 25 year old. Our first child, Molly, was yet to be born, and I was only a few years out of uni. In the first caucus meeting after the election, the then member for Giles, Lyn Breuer, could not understand who had let in a staffer. Labor had made a spectacular comeback under leader, Mike Rann, just one term after Labor had been reduced to 10 seats in the wake of the State Bank collapse. I expected that Labor would be in and out of office at least a couple of times over my career. Little was I to know that my first term in parliament would be my only time in opposition.

Labor goes into the 2018 election with a better than even chance of remaining on the treasury bench—remarkable for a political party completing its fourth consecutive term. Much of the credit for this longevity must go to those Labor MPs in marginal seats, members like the members for Newland, Mawson, Light and Colton, who have established new benchmarks when it comes to marginal seat campaigning.

Another reason for our success is that we have been capable of regeneration, with the Premier being the only minister from our first cabinet 16 years ago. On the whole, long-serving ministers have made way for new blood without the acrimony that we see in the modern Liberal Party. I think the most momentous thing I have been involved in is my conversation with then premier Mike Rann, telling him that the right had decided to support Jay Weatherill for the premiership.

By 2011, it was clear that the government was in trouble, and it was well known that Mike wanted to retire probably around the 10-year anniversary of his premiership. Who was to take over from him needed to be resolved and quickly. I came to the conclusion that the member for Cheltenham was our best bet. Of the possible contenders, he had been in cabinet the longest, and had been the heir apparent for a while. There was no doubt that he commanded the support of a majority of the wider party, and any attempt by the right faction to use its numbers in caucus to impose someone else would be badly received. We would be on the back foot from the start. The slightest stumble would be compared unfavourably to the would-be premier who had been passed over.

All this had to be communicated to Mike, and the job of doing so was given to me. The great shame is that it became known that the meeting was happening even before it had happened, and, instead of Mike being able to retire gracefully, he was publicly backed into a corner and humiliated. Mike has never forgiven me, and this is one of my greatest regrets. If I had spoken to Mike on my own and the meeting had not leaked, the transition could have been better managed and I do not think he would harbour such bitterness. But I am comforted by the knowledge that we made the right decision, winning in 2014, and I believe our last term has been at least as good as our first.

Political courage has been a hallmark in our time in office. We have displayed a willingness to set the agenda, take on unpopular causes, rather than being blown around by popular sentiment. It has been my privilege to have been involved in some of these reforms. Doing nothing is always the easiest option in government. Opposing change is always easier than advocating for it. Reform that threatens entrenched interest is especially difficult. Then there are those who are just desperate for five minutes of fame that being a voice of opposition will provide. To argue for something new and unknown is always more difficult than to argue for the comfortable certainties of the status quo.

The 2014 federal budget made pretty clear that the federal government was not going to share the cost of public hospital funding to the extent that had been promised not only by the previous Labor government but explicitly by Tony Abbott in the days before the federal election. Consequently, some pretty difficult decisions were going to need to be made. We asked in the consultancy firm McKinsey that had successfully advised on other health reform projects around the world, and we convened meetings of clinicians—not just doctors but nurses and allied health professionals, too.

What they concluded was not earth shatteringly new; much of it had been previously identified in the Menadue Generational Health Review at the beginning of our term. High-acuity services were spread too thinly and often did not have the critical mass to be safe and efficient. The north of Adelaide, where the population had outgrown the Lyell McEwin Hospital, was missing out on important services and people were having to travel or wait too long for treatment. As a state, we were underinvesting in subacute services like rehabilitation and palliative care, compromising care and making hospital stays longer than necessary.

All these factors combined to create a situation in South Australia where we were spending more than anywhere else in Australia, but with patient outcomes that were not commensurate. Of all the debates in here and media interviews I have had, no-one has ever questioned these basic facts. No-one has ever asserted to me that high-acuity care should not be provided at fewer sites where the number of patients and the size of the service can be optimised. No-one has argued that we are not underinvesting in subacute care.

Opponents were generally either suffering relevance deprivation syndrome or clinicians who felt that poorer patient outcomes were a fair price to pay to protect their little empire. Both groups shamelessly used scare tactics to undermine the reforms. It is a shame that the Liberal Party put political expediency ahead of the good of the state when it came to Transforming Health. The challenges our health system faces will not magically disappear should they one day form government. If they had recognised this, they could have made a positive contribution, like the federal Liberal Party did in the 1980s, and likewise reap the benefits in government.

Another disappointment has been the unwillingness to engage, and sometimes outright hostility, from the doctors' union, SASMOA, and more recently the AMA. When we trialled the use of nurse endoscopists in South Australia, the AMA and SASMOA were up in arms, demanding it cease. National Bowel Cancer Screening had created—which was a good thing—a massive waiting list of people requiring colonoscopies to diagnose bowel cancer. People had been waiting longer than the clinically recommended time for a colonoscopy.

Having a specially trained nurse do the procedure under the supervision of a specialist is a cost-effective way of addressing this. It has been shown to be safe interstate and overseas. The reaction of the Australian Medical Association and SASMOA was unbecoming, with SASMOA threatening industrial action. Fortunately, they withdrew the threat. In time, I hope a new generation of medical leaders in those organisations will emerge who will see the need for reform and be constructive partners with government in building a health system that is less about doctors and more about patients.

A good model they could look to is the Nursing and Midwifery Federation. While robustly defending the interests of their members, they worked to reform our health system. When I met with the ANMF I always knew that I could appeal to their belief that the interests of the patient were paramount, and on that basis we could reach common ground. I would like to thank and commend Elizabeth Dabars and her team for their constructive approach.

I think my legacy will always be the new Royal Adelaide Hospital, which is a little odd because it was actually John Hill who decided and then advocated that rebuilding on the old RAH site was going to be costly, disruptive over many years and not give the benefits that a new build would give. It is the largest and most complex infrastructure project the state has undertaken and, like any project of its size and complexity, came with its bumps along the way.

The move from the old Royal Adelaide Hospital to the new was a triumph in logistics, with not only staff in Central Adelaide playing a part but the state's entire health system contributing to keeping patients safe. I could not help but shed a proud tear when the last patient, Ronald Thomas, was wheeled into a waiting ambulance. Hearing the cheers of the nurses, who formed a guard of honour for him, is something I will never forget. The photo in The Advertiser of me with the nurses of the vascular ward at the RAH celebrating is something I will always cherish.

She will be embarrassed by me repeating it, but this state owes a debt of gratitude to Jenny Richter, who came out of retirement to run the project at its most critical moment. My thanks to the Premier for entrusting this historic project to me although, as I remarked at the official opening, there were times I wished he had trusted me a little less and just given me the arts portfolio.

My true love was always the arts. I will always remember the feeling of terror speaking at the opening of the 2015 Cabaret Festival with a parody of Cole Porter's Anything Goes and Barry Humphries in the audience. I am very proud of Adelaide rightfully being recognised as a world City of Music by UNESCO and securing funding for the Adelaide Festival Centre and Her Majesty's Theatre. Most of all, I have loved attending the performances of the incredible artistic talent this state is blessed with. Having my own chance to perform, as a clown in the Christmas pageant, was fun too.

Compulsory third-party insurance reform and the creation of the Lifetime Support Authority is one of the most important things this government has done. It was a sweeping reform, reducing the cost of registering a car, creating a less adversarial system and providing appropriate support for those catastrophically injured in motor vehicle accidents. Remarkably, it passed both houses with near unanimous support, and I thank the Liberal Party for their foresight.

This tremendous privilege over the last 20 years would not have been possible but for the work and encouragement of those supporting me. More than any other endeavour, in politics you are the beneficiary of the work of others, those volunteers who letterbox and hand out how-to-vote cards. I think of Jana Isemonger, living in a Housing Trust flat in Para Hills West, who would wake in the small hours of election day, spend the whole day on the Para Hills West polling booth and stay late into the evening to scrutineer.

Family members, like my aunts and uncles, Margaret and Peter Roberts and Melvin and Shirley Snelling, and mum and dad, would not only hand out for me but also for the Labor candidate in Heysen, handing out at the St Catherine's in Stirling polling booth. My brothers and sisters, and brothers and sisters-in-law, have all at some stage been dragooned into letterboxing or handing out how-to-vote cards. My family, especially mum and dad, made me the man I am. The sacrifices they made as I grew up I am only now beginning to appreciate. Other than Lucia, they are to whom I always go for advice on anything important.

I would like to thank the people of my electorate. When I first became the member for Playford, most of the electorate had lived in their homes since the late 1960s and early 1970s, when those suburbs were first settled. They were fundamentally decent, hardworking people. Many of them were sceptical of this young blow-in asking for their vote in what was Labor's most marginal seat after the 1993 State Bank election. Over the years, I won their trust, and young families like my own moved in. Sporting clubs and schools have experienced a resurgence.

I thank my electorate office staff, who have often had to work with little support or supervision from me over the years. To Clare McAssey, Chad Buchanan, Corey Harriss, Mary Kasperski and Sav Ly: my thanks. To my two drivers—I have been extremely privileged to have a driven car for the last 12 years—I would like to thank Barry 'Little Bazz' Eastgate and David 'Robbo' Robinson for looking after me and getting me around over the last number of years.

I would like to thank and pay tribute to the Speaker. I have tried to emulate him in many ways—perhaps not in every way. We met when I was still a schoolboy, and then again at the back of a bus heading to Stirling, where he was going to address a Mount Lofty sub-branch meeting. His joy in spending time with his constituents and his understanding of the concerns of ordinary South Australians cannot be matched. I took his advice between 2002 and 2006 and took to visiting every new constituent who came onto the electoral roll. I devised a more efficient way of doing it than by bicycle, but perhaps I might be a bit trimmer if I had laboriously undertaken the member for Croydon's technique. I also never had the same faith that he does that handwriting envelopes is really worth the effort.

I would like to thank Senator Farrell for his part in my career, for which I have had his unwavering support. Don gave me my first start at the SDA. I remember it was at the wedding of the Hon. Tung Ngo that Don suggested it might be a good idea to think about purchasing a home in Ingle Farm. If anyone has been to a Vietnamese wedding they would be aware that it is customary to place a bottle of cognac on every table. The combination of Don's news and the best part of that bottle of cognac had an unwelcome effect, and it took a long time for Lucia to forgive me.

I could not end my career here without mentioning my best mate, the Hon. Tung Ngo, who has been one of my greatest supporters. He took me out doorknocking, he introduced me to the Vietnamese community, and he worked like a trooper. He came to Australia as a boat person. His boat had been attacked by pirates and he and his family had been left for dead. I am so proud to see Tung take his place in the Legislative Council.

Health is the most difficult portfolio at the best of times, and when you add to that Transforming Health, the rollout of EPAS, and the building of the new RAH, it became damn well near impossible, but I managed because of some key people. First, my ministerial office led by my chiefs of staff Peter Louca and later Matt Hillard. I enjoyed working with my ministerial office immensely. There were times when it seemed a bit like the Welsh village, Llanddewi Brefi, from Little Britain, with an increasing number of staff asserting themselves to be 'the only gay in the minister's office'. The Hon. Kyam Maher dubbed me 'the leader of the rainbow right'. This has always perplexed me, but I was reassured when a heterosexual relationship bloomed and my PA Nakry Sim married my adviser Andrew Whinnen last year.

Despite everything going on around us we had fun. I never had a moment when I had to drag myself out of bed. I knew that whatever horrors might have awaited me that day I would be sharing them with a group of people I loved. It is true there were some moments that would have caused The Thick of It's Malcolm Tucker to blush, but the gallows humour and mutual support kept us all sane. I was also blessed with the best media advisers in the business: Matt, who went on to become my chief of staff, and Rhett Burnie. Much of the time they were the busiest media advisors in the government, and their calm reassurance stopped me from wanting to throttle the odd journalist.

Vickie Kaminski is the smartest executive I have met and worked with, and South Australia is privileged to have her here; however, I found myself at our weekly CE meeting having to act as translator of Australian idiom. Phrases like 'argy-bargy', 'happy-clappy', 'give me a dinky' and 'shag on a rock' were not expressions she had encountered in her native Canada. Early on, she asked me who or what was Dorothy Dick. I am told she was recently presented with a bottle of Bush Rub. I will not do my Canadian accent but, 'How, and more importantly where, does one apply bush rub?' she asked, 'And does one apply it oneself or ask someone?' David Swan's departure could have created a serious gap at a critical time, and I am grateful that Vickie agreed to take on the job of chief executive.

Professor Dorothy Keefe is a truly formidable woman. As many would know, Lucia suffered a molar pregnancy in our marriage and Dorothy was her oncologist. It was not long ago that this rare cancer was a death sentence, so I am particularly indebted to Dorothy for my wife and the four beautiful children we were blessed with after Lucia's illness. Dorothy's staunch clinical leadership as clinical ambassador for Transforming Health has been unstinting. She brought the clinicians together, arrived at a consensus, and was then the public face of the reforms, always willing to go out and publicly advocate.

Channel 7 did a number of public forums on Transforming Health and, despite Jane Doyle's superb and fair-minded chairmanship, I have to say that the audiences were not always that receptive to what we were advocating. I only had the emotional stamina to go to two of those forums but Dorothy did every single one. When I wanted to rock backwards and forwards in the foetal position Dorothy was always ready to go out and put our case.

In concluding, I want to pay special homage to my wife of 20 years, Lucia. Lucia and I met in Young Labor. If she had chosen to do so, she could have pursued a parliamentary career. She chose to forgo that and dedicate her life to supporting me and raising our six children. I owe her a debt of gratitude I will never be able to repay. I hope I might make some inroads after March. To my beautiful and talented children, you are my pride and joy: Molly, Helena, Frank, Joe, Peter and Tom—I almost forgot. Don't ask me their birthdates. After 20 years, I still have a lot to learn about being a dad, such as remembering their names, but I hope to get a lot of practice.

Sitting in the office and waiting for constituents to come to you can warp your view of your constituents. How many of us have been tempted to write as Congressman John Steven McGroarty of California replied to a constituent in 1934:

One of the countless drawbacks of being in Congress is that I am compelled to receive impertinent letters from a jackass like you in which you say I promised to have the Sierra Madre mountains reforested and I have been in Congress two months and haven't done it. Will you take two running jumps and go to hell.

As an MP, it is so important to see beyond the activists and full-time agitators to the regular decent families educating their kids and paying their bills, who would not dream of contacting the MP. When you doorknock them, they are generally amazed to find an MP at the door.

The decline of traditional media is seeing a resurgence of direct contact with voters as a campaigning tool. This can only be for the betterment of democracy. If there was a key message I would like people to take from my speech this afternoon, it is the importance for a politician to discern the common good of the many above the noisy voices of the few. It is tempting in politics to run around seeking the applause of the talking heads on the media and ignoring the common good. The majority of people who benefit from the tough decisions you make will probably not notice that benefit, let alone know that you were responsible. Many of them will not even be born. Whereas the few who have been disadvantaged from your reform or from your decision will feel that disadvantage keenly and know precisely where to direct their anger.

I do not necessarily idolise John Kennedy, but I would like to quote from his book, Profiles in Courage:

These, then, are some of the pressures which confront a man of conscience. He cannot ignore the pressure groups, his constituents, his party, the comradeship of his colleagues, the needs of his family, his own pride in office, the necessity for compromise and the importance of remaining in office. He must judge for himself which path to choose, which step will most help or hinder the ideals to which he is committed. He realizes that once he begins to weigh each issue in terms of his chances for re-election, once he begins to compromise away his principles on one issue after another for fear that to do otherwise would halt his career and prevent future fights for principle, then he has lost the very freedom of conscience which justifies his continuance in office. But to decide at which point and on which issue he will risk his career is a difficult and soul-searching decision.

I have never made a secret of my faith, and I strongly disagree with those who assert that one's religious beliefs have no role to play in public life. God has guided me these last 20 years and never let me down. My decision to retire was because of a strong sense that that is what He was calling me to do and I know He will continue to look after me as I embark on this next chapter.

I conclude with a poem written by Australia's greatest poet, James McAuley, written for his friend Bob Santamaria when he was embroiled in public controversy. It has given me comfort in times of difficulty, and I commend it to members now and members to come. It is titled 'Retreat':

Come into yourself a while,

Be deaf to outer cares;

Ask not who wins, who falls, who rages,

Or what each doubtful sign presages,

Or what face treachery wears.

Soon you must return to tasks

That sicken and appal:

The calumnies will never cease,

Look only to the sign of peace,

The cross upon the wall.

This is that sole instrument

That measures every chart;

This square and level overrules

The subtle calculus of fools

By a celestial art.

It is not said we shall succeed,

Save as His cross prevails:

The good we choose and mean to do

Prospers if he wills it to,

And if not, then it fails.

Nor is failure our disgrace:

By ways we cannot know

He keeps the merit in his hand

And suddenly, as no-one planned,

Behold the kingdom grow!

Thank you.

The Hon. J.W. WEATHERILL (Cheltenham—Premier, Minister for the Arts) (17:00): I think we are reminded by the contribution of the member for Playford that many of the members of the house we are farewelling today have served their electorates true and well, and to a woman and man they deeply care about the citizens that they have been given the responsibility of representing.

We are farewelling 10 members of the assembly who are departing, and many of them are quite long serving. Together, they represent 185 years of parliamentary knowledge and experience lost to this institution. To the five Liberal members, who account for 77 of those 185 years, I say thank you and good luck. I want to mention them in alphabetical order.

Mr Mark Goldsworthy MP, has been the member for Kavel since 2002. What I want to say about Mark is that we share one thing in common: we both have a father who was a member of parliament. My experience of Mark through the entire period, since 2002, is that he is a man of unfailing politeness. The reason I say that is that if one consults Hansard one will probably see that tongue in cheek probably does not come across very well. So it is worth putting on the record, lest people think in 100 years to come that this was the rowdiest member of the House of Assembly, that one should know that it was tongue in cheek, all the criticisms and disruption of the house by the member for Kavel.

I also want to mention Mr Steven Griffiths MP, the member for Goyder. I think I can sum up Steven with the word 'gentleman'. I have an image of Steven. I cannot remember when it was, but it is locked in my mind. It was at a difficult time I think for him. He was being filmed walking away from the camera. There was a female MP next to him—it might have been the member for Heysen—and they both arrived at the door together and he courteously stood aside and offered his hand and motioned to her to walk through the narrow space. For me, it was a metaphor of how I experienced the member for Goyder in this place, a gentleman in every sense of the word—a very gentle man.

I also want to mention Mr Michael Pengilly MP, the member for Finniss. I once had the pleasure of being toured around his beloved Kangaroo Island by the member for Finniss, and I very much value that experience. He obviously has a deep and abiding love of that part of South Australia and was very proud to show it off to me.

I also want to mention the honourable member for Heysen, of course the leader of the opposition between 2009 and February 2013. From time to time, we have had to lock horns, having been opposite one another. I remember in this place we commenced our careers together on the same day and I think commenced them in a way that has probably never happened before, sealing it with a kiss as we congratulated one another. I of course had the pleasure of working with Isobel when we were both in the same law firm, and I must say I have never met a more principled or honourable person in her role as a lawyer. Nothing that has occurred over the last 16 years in this place has altered my assessment of her.

I also want to mention the honourable member for MacKillop. It will surprise him to hear me say that, in his day, the member for MacKillop was the most persuasive and effective debater that I experienced on the other side of the chamber. Fortunately, he did not have many good days, but when he did, when he was on song, he was very powerful in a way that made me, on occasions, think twice about whether I was on the right side of the argument. It is a powerful capacity to publicly debate in that fashion, which is valuable and part of the dynamic in this chamber.

As for Labor parliamentarians, we have all but five having in excess of two decades of service, and I want to say a bit about each of them. The Speaker, the member for Croydon, the father of the house—those who have worked with him closely over the years would have understood that he is one of the most energetic and diligent MPs who has ever held office in this chamber. I am sad to report though that much of his energy and diligence in the early part of his career was in hunting left-wingers—me amongst them. Of course, he has moderated in recent years, and indeed I must say that the fact that I am actually standing here in this role I owe much to the fact that he has moderated his position in relation to that matter.

His knowledge of languages, world religions and local ethnic community organisations is encyclopaedic, but what is really powerful is the obvious joy in which he revelled in insinuating himself into those communities. He would be at ethnic functions, dressing up in their costumes, eating their food and drinking their ridiculous spirits, but sharing them and loving them in a way in which those communities could see his joy in experiencing their culture. That attracted them to him in a way that is incredibly powerful and they will always remember, I am sure, the member for Croydon.

I do not think there is a person in this chamber who has not had their grammar corrected by the honourable member. He knows every street and every footpath in Croydon, partly as a result of his habit of traversing his electorate on his bike. We have this extraordinary situation where he delivers a letter to the letterbox, often to find the words 'delivered by bicycle' written on the front of the letter. With remarkable enthusiasm, he has set an example of what it means to be a local member of parliament. I must say that he is a genuine eccentric, but there is something boyishly engaging about the way in which he has conducted his time here in this parliament.

I also want to say, with all due deference to the member for Playford, who is fortunately not here, that the member for Croydon is the best Speaker I have ever seen in any parliament that I have certainly had the capacity to witness. Interestingly, the only other person who may have been in the same league—and people will find this hard to believe—is Peter Slipper. One had to watch Peter Slipper in action to see how good a Speaker he was. I will not comment on the other elements of his rather colourful career. I do not know what it is about High Church Anglicans with a law degree, but it seems to make them eminently suited to the role of Speaker. In any event, it is an extraordinary career.

The member for Colton is, I think we could all agree, one of the kindest men in South Australian politics. One only needs to see the way in which he treats everybody, from the cleaner to the Governor, and the genuine way in which he wants to know about their lives when he asks after them, their wellbeing and their families. His obvious sense of care and compassion to all with whom he has contact is something that I always reflect upon and think that I wish I could make as much time and space in my life for those small kindnesses—small kindnesses that make such a difference to people's lives. Paul is always somebody who searches out people who, because of his extraordinary emotional intelligence, he can instinctively identify as having a rough day or in need of a kind word.

Like me, he is a product of Henley High School. Indeed, he was my coach at Henley High School. I sadly did not reach the levels he reached because he was indeed a state schoolboy footballer. I did love my football, but my love did not match my talent. He has never once lost touch with the local area; in fact, he used to serve in the front bar of the Ramsgate Hotel.

The member for Colton has a wonderful connection with the community. Just reflecting on when he was a football coach, at that time he was just a young man himself. Why he was donating all this time to a bunch of ungrateful lads who barely listened to a word he was saying was extraordinary, but it just shows his extraordinary generosity of spirit. I suppose the thing that sticks out most for me in the member for Colton's career is the extraordinary campaign he ran with me on the River Murray, a topic that remains relevant today.

I now want to turn to the member for Ashford. I suppose the thing that immediately stands out for me is that every single conviction and passion with which she entered parliament she continued in parliament and will leave with—utter consistency and steadfastness. It is interesting to note that a number of things we fight for on this side of politics go in and out of fashion, but the member for Ashford's commitment to a number of these issues has never wavered. She has been a strong and consistent advocate for social justice.

Something that I learned from her, before working with her in the trade union movement and in my dealings with her as she carried out her role in the early years as a member of parliament, is her peerless ability to organise groups of people around causes and empower them. Bringing people together and guiding them through the intelligent advice and support to achieve and guide them to an effective solution, this was the member for Ashford's extraordinary talent, and I have learned an enormous amount from her. She has also been incredibly kind to me at different times in my life when I have needed personal support. I am so grateful for your career and also your friendship.

I would of course also like to acknowledge the member for Wright. She spoke of her extraordinary dedication to her local community—something that we all have understood—through her powerful advocacy for the needs of her seat of Wright. She started as an electorate officer and understood that grassroots campaigning to win those things which were important at the neighbourhood level for communities. This was not an easy seat, and she wrested from a government minister and has never relinquished it. In fact, she never looked like she would relinquish it, even in some of the darker days of the past 16 years.

The thing that stands out for me most about the member for Wright is her fearlessness. Some would say she is fearsome. I can recall having a telephone conversation with her where, with some trepidation, I offered her the portfolio of education when there were real challenges in the education portfolio. Without flinching, she said yes. Then, with even greater trepidation, I offered her the portfolio of child protection, and once again, without flinching, she said yes. These were not easy portfolios at the best of times, but they were offered during a time of serious challenge.

If there is a word that stands out for me concerning the member for Wright, it is 'bravery'. She has the ability to stand up and fight, and never give up. Although these portfolios took an enormous toll on her, I think she was able to allow her humanity and compassion to shine through while pursuing intelligent public policy. I am so grateful for the responsibilities you took on. You have been an extraordinary part of caring for our most vulnerable citizens—the little children of our state.

I now want to turn to the member for Playford, whom we just heard give the most beautiful valedictory speech. He came into this place at a tender age. I can recall seeing him at an even more tender age when he was in Young Labor and I saw the first three or four motions he moved and I thought, 'Thank God, a left-winger.' But then I realised it was that particular brand of progressive politics, because he was talking about economic sovereignty, but it really was more of the Bob Santamaria type. We came together on certain issues. It was only when we began to hear more from the member for Playford that we realised we were in very different camps indeed. He demonstrated maturity and ability beyond his years to hold the position of Speaker for a period of almost four years.

I have always valued the member for Playford's contributions in our cabinet. I have always seen him as an extraordinary source of wisdom and of calm, sober judgement. For a relatively young man, he seemed to have experience well beyond his years and was often an important source of an alternative perspective which was incredibly mature and wise and has helped guide the government through some real challenges. He spoke at length about his contribution to the health portfolio—once again, that combination of intelligence and bravery to take on the big issues that are facing this state.

I know that there will be much made of the health issue in the lead-up to the next election, but I can say this without fear of contradiction, that there is only one pathway to managing what is the largest and single most important area of service within the responsibility of the South Australian government and that is through intelligently engaging with the clinicians, with our doctors and nurses or allied healthcare professionals, and seeking always to put quality health care at front and centre and seeking to make the intelligent reforms that are necessary.

That is all he has ever done. That is all the government has ever sought to do. There is no other way of doing it. Those opposite, if they end up forming the government, will have to do the very same things as they seek to grapple with the extraordinary demands, the technological changes and the natural demands of our citizens for better and improved healthcare services. Of course, he has overseen the extraordinary work in the later stages of the new Royal Adelaide Hospital, which is a testament to his great capacities.

I also want to briefly mention some members in the other place: the Hon. Gail Gago, a Victorian, which accounts for some of her blind spots, but I must say that I have never seen anybody who has such an acute analysis of the way in which a political issue will play out and such an acute judgement of the character and insights into the behaviours of people. I want to pay tribute to one thing about her which stands out above all others and that is the way she promotes women and her indefatigable unwillingness to give up and allow the forces of the status quo to overwhelm the opportunities of women.

She does this by putting her money where her mouth is. She promotes women and she supports women. My wife had a brief period when she was working with the nurses federation and she was incredibly supported, and one powerful thing that Gail Gago said to the people around her was, 'My job is to get you your next job.' She was always thinking about how she could empower and promote people to move to the next level, and I think that is really powerful.

I want to single out the incredible role the Hon. John Gazzola has played in supporting me to promote the live music scene, which the state government is seeking to foster through its Vibrant City agenda. He deserves a measure of credit for the recent recognition of Adelaide by Lonely Planet as one of the best live music cities in the world.

Before I finish, I would like to thank the staff in this place including the clerks, the ushers, the Hansard reporters, those drafting the legislation and the staff members of parliamentarians. You do very often work long hours and you must deal with tight deadlines and a fast-changing parliamentary agenda and sometimes some less than helpful members of parliament. Each of you, however, carries out your work in a thoroughly professional manner and so plays a crucial role in what we might call the machinery of democracy. Yours is an incredibly important role; thank you so much for doing it with the skill and capacity that you do.

I also wish the staff, along with the retiring members of the house and the Legislative Council, all the best for the future. You have given immeasurably of yourself. I do not think people appreciate what it means to put yourself out there and actually seek to lead. I do not know whether there is an appreciation that all of us are just ordinary everyday people who have asked to accept the function of leadership, which we do. We are not slaves, we do that willingly, but we offer ourselves up in the service of the state. I cannot imagine a higher purpose, and I thank all of you for the wonderful service you have given our state and wish you all the best for the future.

Mr WILLIAMS (MacKillop) (17:21): When I first came into this place as an elected member some 20 years ago I did not expect to be here today. I was contemplating how good it would be if I got to serve a second term; I now find that I am the longest serving member on this side of the house. I am not quite sure what to make of that, to be quite honest, but let me go back a little.

As members know, I grew up the youngest of four sons in a farming family in the South-East, where my forebears had gone in 1869. A boatload of 100 men were sent there by George Goyder to dig drains to open up the South-East. The plan was to dig drains to aid transport between Adelaide and Mount Gambier, but Goyder had a greater vision that by intensively draining the South-East the state would then open up much more land for sale for agricultural purposes, which after all was the way the state was founded by the South Australian Company selling land and using the money to bring more migrants to South Australia to work the land.

As I say, my forebears arrived in the South-East in about 1869. Two brothers brought the rest of their family to Millicent where the main camp was located. They built the first stone home in Millicent, a home that has been continually occupied and still is today, albeit it has been built onto considerably. They were very successful at that job and made a few bob. They then moved to farming, and the family has been there ever since. Indeed, I have grandchildren who are residing on a parcel of land my great-grandfather took up in 1888, so the family has not moved a long way, to be quite frank.

My father, a war veteran and a Rat of Tobruk, was injured in Tobruk and honourably discharged from the Army during the middle of the war and repatriated home. My mother came off a farm out of Naracoorte at a place known as Lochaber. Both of them taught me how to work hard, how to be honest and gave me the best education they could, albeit that their education was not overly substantial given the era they grew up in.

I was educated at the Mount Burr Primary School and, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, I suspect that it was the most multicultural school in rural South Australia, if not as multicultural as any school anywhere in South Australia. A number of migrants fleeing the ravages of war in Europe found themselves working for what was then the woods and forests department, either in the sawmill or in the forests. We had schoolfriends from all over, particularly eastern and southern Europe.

I left Mount Burr Primary School and graduated to the Millicent High School, where I completed my secondary education, before moving to the University of Adelaide. If I had been more studious during that part of my life I would have ended up being a civil engineer and not a parliamentarian. However, having dropped out of university, I entered the commonwealth Public Service in what was then the postmaster-general's department.

I went back to university part time while I was there and studied some economics, much more successfully, but by that stage I had fallen in love and married Leonie. We had a child and, because both of us had been brought up on farms, we thought, 'How on earth do you bring up a family on a quarter-acre block?' We had a quarter-acre block and a home at Glenside at that stage. We therefore moved to the South-East and back onto the family farm with my three older brothers and my parents in the family business.

I started my career in public life in 1981 when I became elected to the then Beachport council where I served for eight years, the last half of that term as the chairman of that council. They were two-year terms in those days and I had made a promise to Leonie that I would only do three terms, but when I became chairman of the council I pleaded with her that I could do an extra term and she would just have to manage running the children. They were getting to that age in their lives where they were doing all sorts of things: gymnastics, music, sport and everything. Leonie ran the taxi service and I started my public life.

True to my promise, at the end of my second term as chairman of the council I voluntarily retired and gave up public life, I thought probably forever. Some eight to 10 years later, I put up my hand and became a landholder-elected member on the South Eastern Water Conservation and Drainage Board, which led me to this place.

In June of 1997, there was a meeting called in Mount Gambier by the then minister for the environment, David Wotton to which people were invited. The drainage board was invited to send a representative along. The chairman of the drainage board, one Julian Desmazures—who lives up near Salt Creek, or he did at that stage—rang me and said, 'Mitch, since you are the member who lives closest to Mount Gambier, would you mind going to this meeting?', which I did.

In February of 1997, David Wotton had talked about a water allocation plan in the South-East. Indeed, in March of that year he released a plan and it started to come into operation. The local member at the time, Dale Baker, was approached by a couple of landholders who were unhappy with this because they believed that it would have been better for them and their businesses if they could have grabbed all the water that they might need for their business, irrespective of the fact that the rest of the community believed that, in purchasing land in a high rainfall area, you actually were purchasing some water as well.

Obviously, Dale Baker prevailed within the government, so David Wotton was forced to run this meeting in Mount Gambier. As I said, it was by invitation only, and it was designed to turn on its head that policy that had just been promulgated. I went along to that meeting on 27 June 1997, and I will always remember the date because it happens to be my birthday.

That evening, one of my friends and neighbours, who happens to be a distant cousin, rang me. He was at the same meeting because he was on the ag bureau. He said, 'What did you think of the meeting today?' I said, 'That was the biggest bloody set-up I have ever been involved in.' He said, 'Good. I am coming around and we are going to write a letter to the editor,' which we did. It was published the next week and our phones rang off the hook. I ran several public meetings in the South-East and three months later I was elected to parliament in what Dean Jaensch told me was the biggest swing against a sitting member in Australian political history.

My life changed and it changed dramatically. I should say that 'our lives' changed dramatically. Leonie and I and our family worked hard and, financially, we were not by any means in the wealthy part of the community, but we had the things that we wanted and loved. As I said, I entered the parliament in October 1997. I will not go into the boring details of the election now; I will come back to that. Of course, the 1997 election saw the then Olsen government slip into minority government, with only 23 members and three Independents from seats that had previously been held by the Liberal Party—namely, myself, Rory McEwen in Mount Gambier (it was then Gordon) and Karlene Maywald in Chaffey. Interesting times ensued.

I remember my maiden speech. It is a pity that the Speaker is not here because I mentioned the Noa Nadruku case, which was a celebrated case where a football player in Canberra had very solidly punched his girlfriend but pleaded that he was so drunk he did not know what he was doing. Amongst other things, I talked about that incident. The Speaker immediately came over to me after I had made my maiden speech and said, 'Well, you'll support my bill about the drunk's defence.' He sent me on a research project, which probably lasted six months. I eventually made a speech to his bill. I still think that it is probably the best speech I have made in the parliament. It was certainly the one I put the most time into. Unfortunately, I think that the law still struggles with that particular issue simply because, like so many of the things we seek to address, there is no easy answer.

In my first term, I was fortunate enough to be nominated by the Liberal Party—because I think they needed my vote—to sit on the Public Works Committee. At the first meeting, Robert Brokenshire, who was then a Liberal, had been nominated to be the Chair, but Peter Lewis had sided with the Labor Party members and he became the Chair of the Public Works Committee following the 1997 election. Boy, was that a roller-coaster ride. It was the most interesting experience.

To his credit, I can say that I learned a lot from Peter. I did learn a lot from Peter, but on some days I would rather have been elsewhere. As I say, it was a roller-coaster ride, but I learned a lot about politics and a lot about the way the parliament worked, and certainly I learned a lot about government procurement after spending those first four years on the Public Works Committee. I still think that some of the best work I have done in 20 years here has been through the committees of the parliament, both standing and select committees.

The 2002 election came and went. The Labor Party came to government. I still remember that, on the Sunday morning after the election, my eldest brother rang me and said, 'Well, at least you're still in government.' I said, 'No, we're not.' He said, 'What do you mean?' I said, 'Peter Lewis won't stick with us.' That was always my conviction, that Peter would not stick with us. The falling out that Peter and the party had had was so great that I never believed that Peter entertained supporting us for even a moment.

Even if I did believe that Peter could have supported us, I knew full well that he was too smart. He knew that, for us to remain in government after 2002, we needed the support of all four Independents: Rory McEwen, Karlene Maywald, Bob Such and Peter Lewis. Peter knew that the one who jumped first was going to get most of the lollies. He knew that he could not trust all of them for four years, so he jumped and the rest is history.

By about the middle of that term, Rob Kerin was our leader. Rob rang me one day and said, 'Mitch, I want to promote you into our shadow ministry.' I tried to write them down last night, and I am not sure whether I have them all—I do not think I have—but, amongst other things, I was the shadow minister for water resources; energy; minerals; agriculture; corrections; environment; industrial relations; recreation, sport and racing; administrative services; and science and information economy. When I was making this list, I remembered that Isobel, when she was leader, once asked me if I might take on the portfolio of road safety. I declined, suggesting that, with the distances I had to travel and the time I had available to travel those distances, it could turn out to be embarrassing.

As well as taking on those shadow portfolios, Rob Kerin asked me to go onto his question time committee, and I remained on that question time committee for I do not know how many years, probably 10 years. That was quite a high-pressure committee to be on, sitting for several meetings every sitting day and coming up with the questions we posed the government.

It was a fantastic ride. Being a shadow minister forced you to do your homework. Every time a piece of legislation came up, you had to understand it, you had to brief your colleagues and you had to write a paper for the party room. You could not get away with any short cuts, and I was thrust into areas that I had little or no knowledge of. Iain Evans asked me to take on industrial relations after the 2006 election. I knew little about industrial relations other than the odd argument I had had with shearers in the shearing shed, but that was a fantastic portfolio.

I loved the work, and in particular I got a very good understanding of the way the WorkCover system operated here in South Australia—and it was a system in crisis. Indeed, the government brought to the parliament a number of what they claimed were major changes to WorkCover that, they said, were going to make significant changes to WorkCover and lessen the burden on everybody concerned. Of course, none of them did.

I remember that in 2008, I think it was, when Michael Wright was the minister and he was bringing in substantial changes to WorkCover, supposedly. It was during the Christmas break, the summer break, that he signalled he would be bringing a bill to the parliament at the beginning of the next year and I was arguing, quite openly and publicly, that the opposition would want to see the bill well before we debated it in parliament because we needed to get some feedback from the community.

The member for Waite was our leader at the time. It was rather interesting that we came into the parliament, and I remember the member for Waite asked a question of the government; Kevin Foley answered it and laughed and said, 'I'm not worried about you because you'll do what you're told.' It was at that point I realised that the member for Waite was not suitable to be the Premier of South Australia, because I knew that the member for Waite was doing what he was told. However, I will move on.

Other things I was involved in included, obviously, energy. I had the energy portfolio for a long time, through all the time of the feed-in tariffs, the time when the government was supporting the development of wind farms in South Australia, rooftop solar panels. I have had a very in-depth understanding and knowledge of the way the energy system here in South Australia works, and that is why even earlier today I entered the debate on that particular policy area. I lament what has happened to South Australia.

I held the minerals portfolio. The member for Heysen earlier talked about the BHP indenture; I was the shadow minister at that time and I concur with her comments that Kevin Foley was most generous in giving us the opportunity to go through the relevant documentation. As the shadow minister I asked the party room to have a committee look at that rather than me do it just as the shadow. Our leader in the upper house, David Ridgway, Michelle Lensink as the shadow environment minister, and it may have been Rob as the shadow treasurer, were involved. We all had that opportunity and all of us took advantage of Kevin Foley's offer to go through that indenture line by line and make recommendations to our party room.

Other things that happened were the drought and the water policy. The drought created some really strange policy anomalies. Those who have been here for a long time will remember that the government had a policy where people could water the garden as long as they put the water from the hose into a bucket and then tipped it out of the bucket onto the garden. I remember when I was a guest of the Royal Agricultural and Horticultural Society during the holding of the Royal Adelaide Show in probably 2008 or 2009. I remember commenting how many buckets they must have had down there and how busy they must have been to have their grounds looking in a such wonderful state.

We managed to ridicule the government to the point that they overturned that. But the drought devastated many South Australian small businesses, particularly in a seat of Chaffey in the Riverland. I remember arguing with Karlene Maywald. I said, 'Karlene, as the Minister for the River Murray and Minister for Water Security and as the local member, you should be going into the marketplace and purchasing enough water to underpin the survival of the permanent plantings in the Riverland because they are state assets.' Rory McEwen was there and always had an answer to this sort of thing. He said, 'No, you can't privatise the profits and socialise the losses, Mitch. You cannot do that. These are private assets.' Anyhow, we saw a number of those permanent plantings lost through that and through poor policy.

It was in September 2008 or 2009 that Premier Mike Rann put out a statement in the Sunday Mail that the last piece of the jigsaw to solve the water problem for South Australia had been resolved because the commonwealth government had come on board and were going to pay farmers exit fees. They were going to buy their water, shut down their blocks and give them some money to get on with their lives. This absolutely infuriated Karlene, as it should have. She obviously thumped the table pretty soundly the next morning in cabinet. She then went into the market and purchased water to underpin permanent plantings.

It must have been 2008 when she did that, because the next year, and she ran the argument, the New South Wales government said, 'If you do that again, we will ban any of our people from selling water into the market.' That was the excuse she used. Whatever happened behind the scenes, she abandoned her electorate the next year and did not buy water and was unable to underpin those permanent plantings. That is why the current member for Chaffey is in this place today, I believe. I always thought Karlene made a big mistake taking on that portfolio. She was always going to have trouble satisfying the needs of her own electorate. That is a lesson those of us who are going to continue in this place should look to.

I want to mention a couple of little things that happened in my own backyard. The Cape Jaffa Lighthouse platform used to sit on the Margaret Brock Reef just off Cape Jaffa. The Australian Maritime Safety Authority, which owned the lighthouse, wanted to divest themselves of it because they were no longer running even the electric light from that platform. Nobody wanted it. Nobody would take it because of the liability issues. So they said, 'Oh well, we will go and pull it down, whatever the cost.'

I brought to the parliament a bill which basically said whoever owns Cape Jaffa Lighthouse platform bears no liability. If someone goes past it their boat and bumps into it or a piece of timber falls off it and hits them on the head, they bear no liability. It was a unique bill. To my surprise and delight, the parliament approved of it and it passed and it is now in the statutes. I am surprised that nobody has actually picked up on it and used it in some other areas, because I am sure that there are other areas where it could be used.

One of the great disappointments is what this government did to the people of Keith in my electorate through trying to undermine and close down their hospital. I think it is one of the most outrageous things that the government could do to any community in any jurisdiction. To his credit, the member for Playford more recently reinstated considerable funding and, indeed, more funding than we were asking for from John Hill when we went cap in hand.

It was through Dean Brown and my approach to Dean Brown on behalf of the Keith and District Hospital that we got some public funding for that hospital in the first place back in the late 1990s. John Hill not only devastated that community; he cost that community a hell of a lot of money. That community sold a lot of the assets they were holding. They did an unreal amount of fundraising to keep the doors of that hospital open, and they still struggle. It is one thing that I hope, with a change of government, will certainly be rectified.

I want to turn to a couple of issues I guess as a parting wish list of things that I would like to see changed. Can I say that I was glad when question time was over today. I am glad that I will not have to sit through another question time. Question time in this parliament has become a farce. I remember—

Ms Redmond: There are no answers.

Mr WILLIAMS: Yes, there are no answers. I remember having a debate with the late Greg Kelton on numerous occasions. I said, 'Greg, we will not have a good functioning parliament or government when you rate ministers on their ability not to answer questions.' I argued with Greg and I have argued with other journalists since that we will have a much better government of South Australia when you rate the ministers on their ability to actually get the work done, make their portfolios work and be accessible and open to the public with what is going on—not dissimilar to what the member for Heysen said earlier today.

I think the role of the media in this state is considerably lacking, quite frankly. The media are very superficial. Other people have talked about the number of media advisers in this government. Those journalists in the various media agencies are absolutely overwhelmed by government media advisers. There are very few people in our media whom I think do a fantastic job. There are one or two I have considerable respect for; there are a lot I think are, at the best, mediocre.

I say to young colleagues coming into the parliament that the one mistake I think that I made when I came to this place is that I thought that if I did my job the media would do their job and they would report fairly, openly and honestly and they would have some understanding of the arguments that we were making from the side. I was, sadly, mistaken. I advise my young colleagues now: when you come in, build yourself a relationship with those people in the media because, unless you have that relationship with them, they will fail to do their job properly and they will not hear what you are saying and they will not report what you are saying and you will be to some extent wasting your time.

The other bugbear I have had for many years in this place is our freedom of information laws. They are actually secrecy laws. I love the system that our cousins have across the Tasman Sea in New Zealand, where the presumption is: if the information is released, what harm would it do? Unless it fails to pass that test, it is automatically released. Indeed, I was told when I was over there studying this particular issue that most agencies by the time the cabinet meeting is completed have put their cabinet submissions on the agency website. All the information that the cabinet considers is freely available to the public. The deliberations of the cabinet are held in camera, but the information sitting behind that is freely available. I think if we had that here in South Australia, we would have a much better government. I again reflect back to question time only today.

I am delighted that the house has adopted some new standing orders, or clarified some standing orders. I am delighted that the Speaker has agreed with my interpretation of standing order 139. The standing order, as adopted, will now ensure that, when a member who has been named makes his or her explanation and/or apology, the question of whether or not that apology be accepted will be debated as the only way it can be resolved.

The ill was created by the Clerk, Malcolm Lehmann, giving erroneous advice to Speaker Breuer some years ago. I can say, 'Malcolm, you were wrong.' I can also say that Pat Conlon was wrong. He and I had an argy-bargy across the chamber at the time and I am glad to be able to put that on the record. The other thing that has bugged me for a long time is that in a lot of our legislation obviously we establish authorised officers under many bills. The powers of authorised officers, we should—

Ms Redmond interjecting:

Mr WILLIAMS: Absolutely. We should consolidate the powers of authorised officers. We should have them consistent through all of our legislation because with the way it is done now I think that we have an incremental increase in those powers. So every time we have a new piece of legislation, we incrementally increase the powers. I think it is something that we as parliamentarians should be very aware of and I plead for somebody in the next government to pull together all of the statutes and consolidate one set of powers for authorised officers.

When you look back on your political career, obviously you ask yourself: did I make a difference? Did I do anything that was worthwhile? I do think that I have done something worthwhile. Post the last election, I told the party room that, if we argued the case for electoral reform in South Australia and did nothing else, we would have done good work. I told the leader that I did not care what he wanted me to do, I was going to dedicate the next few years to achieving some electoral reform in South Australia.

I feel fairly confident that I was not alone. I noted Josh Teague was in the gallery earlier when the member for Heysen was giving her valedictory. He was involved on behalf of the Liberal Party and did some great work, along with other people in the Liberal Party. I sat on a party committee, but also off my own bat through introductions by Clem Macintyre. I had a discussion with Clem about a plan that I had and he introduced me to two mathematicians from Adelaide University. A name was put up first of somebody who might have been able to help, but it came to our attention that that particular mathematician was a card-carrying member of the Labor Party, so we moved on.

I am very grateful to Clem for the introduction, but am most grateful to Professor Nigel Bean and Dr Jono Tuke from the School of Applied Mathematics at the University of Adelaide, who I commissioned to do a paper on the fairness or otherwise of South Australian elections. Jenni Newton-Farrelly in the library amassed the datasets from all the relevant electoral commissions around the nation. That information was given to these two gentlemen, who ran a series of statistical analyses on those datasets and they produced a report to me, which I used in my submission to the boundaries commission.

I called those gentlemen before the commission and Professor Nigel Bean gave evidence before the commission. I had the rather unique opportunity to cross-examine him before the commission, which was pretty unusual, or at least I thought it was unusual. Notwithstanding that, at the end of the day, the commission in their final report quoted extensively from that paper that was prepared for me. I think that paper went a long way to convincing the commission that they had to do things somewhat differently.

I have been saying publicly for some time, for at least the last 12 months, that I suspect that the next election will be held on a fair set of boundaries for the first time since at least 1975, possibly for the first time since 1936 or before, but I do think—

The Hon. M.J. Atkinson: I thought you were going to say 1965.

Mr WILLIAMS: No, but I suggest that for the first time, possibly in the history of the state, I believe and sincerely hope that we will be fighting an election on a fair set of boundaries, given the support that this side of politics has been receiving from the electorate at large for such a long time. I have a good feeling about there being some change next March. Having said that, I have no doubt that if Isobel Redmond had been allowed by some of my colleagues to do what she was doing, and what she was doing very well, to proceed to the last election, there would have been a change of government. I have no doubt.

In September 2012, I think it might have been, we were polling something like 57 per cent in the Newspoll polls—57 per cent—yet there was a serious movement against Isobel, and the rest is history. It is a funny game, but I have had a ball. I have loved it. I am happy that it is over. I hope the good Lord gives me time to enjoy some of the other things that I am looking forward to in my life.

I want to take a couple of minutes to say some very big thankyous. I want to say thank you to Peter Altschwager. Peter Altschwager was one of those people—and I do not know whether Peter believed that I could win the 1997 election, but he put me up to some curious pranks, including making me go on Women's World on Channel 8 of WIN TV in Mount Gambier, where I think we sold a couple of vacuum cleaners, a couple of electric blankets and a few dresses, and I had to pay for the privilege of appearing for 10 or 15 minutes. But I remember I was walking down the street of Bordertown shortly thereafter and people recognised me and knew who I was. Peter has been my campaign manager at every election. I cannot thank Peter enough. In fact, I had Peter, his wife and their daughter in the dining room last night for dinner. He was a hard taskmaster and I probably needed it.

I thank my Liberal colleagues. Even though I came into this place as an Independent and did not rejoin the Liberal Party for a couple of years, by and large I have had wonderful support from my colleagues in the Liberal Party and I can only say thank you. Thank you particularly for giving me the privilege of being your deputy leader for 2½ years. That, as Isobel said earlier, was quite a roller-coaster ride, and as I have heard Steven say previously, you learn so much more. So, thank you to my Liberal colleagues. I hope and pray that I see many of you regularly in the ensuing years. It would be a great pity if I did not.

I live a long way from Adelaide and I am looking forward to getting back there, but I would miss it if I did not catch up with many of you on a regular basis. I would like to say thank you to all the parliamentary officers and staff. They make this place work as much as we do, and probably more so. I often remember that Rob Kerin, in his valedictory, thanked all the parliamentary staff and he said, 'Even those in the library who I never bothered too much.' I particularly thank Jenni Newton-Farrelly for the work she did when she was in the library, and thank you to all the library staff, whom I have always found to be so helpful.

I also particularly thank the catering staff. When I first came in here, when we sat during the evenings, Leonie and I ate in the dining room on a very regular basis. I was told once by one of the catering staff that we were the best customers in there. Every Wednesday night for a number of years, we brought our children in and we had family dinner, so I have a great debt of gratitude—and a great belly—due to the catering staff.

A big thankyou to those bureaucrats I came in contact with over the years. I got to know many of them very well, particularly in the department of mineral resources, and I developed a very strong working relationship with a number of those bureaucrats. I always enjoyed the advice and the briefings we received from numerous agencies.

I want to say a big thankyou to my staff. A number of people have gone through my offices. In the early days, there was a bit of a turnover; people were coming and going. One of the girls ended up working for many years for Peter Costello because she moved back to Victoria. Obviously, we had a number of trainees in my office.

Sitting suspended from 18:00 to 19:30.