paul was keen to support the labour movement but worked officially for a senator for a total of two days.

May 1997

It was the end of my second day. I sat at my desk and a wave of clarity washed over me. I tuned into my gut. It was saying, loud and clear: “Get out of here — permanently!” I walked into Jacqui’s office and said, “I’m tapping out. I can’t do this.” After a little more explanation, she accepted my resignation. My paid employment within the office of Labor Senator for Tasmania, Shayne Murphy, had lasted a grand total of 15 hours.

Let me explain.

From 1993 to 1996, I was at the University of Tasmania in Launceston studying teaching. Around the same time, I was an active member of the Australian Labor Party (ALP). I’d turn up to ALP branch meetings, first as a quiet participant, then as an office bearer — including branch secretary for the Federal Member for Bass, Sylvia Smith. I also served for a time as president of the youth wing of the party in Tasmania (see other post).

In early 1996, overlapping state and federal elections were called. I jumped into both campaigns. The candidates I supported lost. I trust it was a coincidence — not a reflection on my efforts!

Afterwards, I kept volunteering with the ALP through 1996, spending more time at Senator Shayne Murphy’s office. Senator Murphy had become the only federal ALP member of parliament based in Launceston after the Keating government fell. When I finished my undergrad degree (see other post), I started a postgraduate course in social research methods. My plan was to build on my youth suicide prevention honours research and go for a PhD scholarship the following year.

Less than four weeks in, I was cooked. I struggled to concentrate on audio lectures. The material drifted into heavy statistics — my least preferred side of research — and my motivation dried up. I withdrew before census date, so no penalty. I picked up more shifts at the gym and took time to rest my mind for whatever came next.

A few weeks into that break, I was offered a job as an Electorate Officer for Senator Murphy. No interview — just a direct appointment off the back of years as a dedicated ALP volunteer. I’d been in and out of that office a thousand times, especially during the campaigns a year before. In fact, I’d spent a lot of time with ministerial staff from Duncan Kerr’s office too. Marginal seat campaigns like Bass in 1996 pull in people and resources from right across the party machine. We ran postal votes and organised volunteers to letterbox flyers across North Eastern Tasmania.

Between 1995 and 1997, I didn’t spend much time with Senator Murphy himself — he was often away on committee work or sitting in Parliament. He took me out to dinner once at Parliament House when I attended a young consumers forum. He was always pleasant and supportive. His electorate officer, Helen Polley, would later win her own Senate seat and serve twice as long as Shayne. His Chief of Staff, Jacqui — also his wife — was the most efficient office manager I’ve ever seen. That office ran like clockwork: systems for everything, immaculate desks, no wasted time.

As an Electorate Officer, back in the days before online media monitoring, I learned to scan the daily papers for anything Shayne should see. I kept ‘tickler files’ for upcoming events and maintained information packs for constituents. I took calls, handled mail-outs, and made sure people got updates on issues they cared about. I was the junior staffer, and the pace was steady.

But the real privilege of that time was sharing an office — as a volunteer first, then briefly as an employee — with Lance Barnard, former Deputy Prime Minister. Though hard of hearing, Lance kept a desk in the meeting room to help war veterans. His service to the community carried on long after his elected days. I didn’t have deep historical conversations with Lance, but I watched him work — steady, kind, unwavering.

Seeing Lance at 78 — a teacher, timber worker, soldier, senior Whitlam government minister — still serving people as a humble volunteer, put my own path in perspective. There I was, 22 years old, thinking I could make a difference sitting behind a desk doing party admin. I realised I needed to get out of the Senator’s office and serve my community outside party politics. I needed to live more, see more, do more — and forge my own way. I knew then I never wanted to become a political apparatchik.*

The day I quit, I knew I was closing the door on a fast track to elected office. People from the Right Faction had been nudging me to stand at the next state election. As it turned out, I was out of the state chasing an academic career when Labor won in 1998 and held office for 16 years. No regrets. My 25+ years in the not-for-profit sector have grounded me in ways party life never could. I’m who I am because I chose to serve vulnerable communities, not the party machine.

*I use ‘apparatchik’ here to mean a blindly loyal political follower — someone who obeys orders without question.