Lifestyle choices: the reality behind a PM's gaffe



The Prime Minister has come under fire for yet another verbal gaffe by referring to remote indigenous communities as being a "lifestyle choice". But what does this really mean, and is our much maligned PM a bumbling fool or is he correct? Definitely the first, but probably both.

The term "lifestyle choice" is fraught with danger. It is the favoured pejorative of the anti-homosexual campaigners, the phrase used to denigrate someone's core being and dismiss them as insignificant or to blame them for the discrimination they face, the illness they acquire, and the difficulties they encounter through life.

For that very reason the phrase should never be used by a public official as a political tool to wield like an axe for budget cuts. We are still dealing with human beings who need empathy and deserve solutions that will lift them up, not cast them aside.

Just for the moment I'm going to work with the intent of our misspoken PM, in context, and give him the benefit of the doubt that he rarely ever deserves, rather than joining the angry mob relaying the inferred and emotive response of the media and the left leaning public. 

So I say this with much thought and unrelenting candour: for some people, living in a remote community IS a lifestyle and it is a choice.

Just like the family working a drought stricken farm or moving to a mining town, just like choosing between suburban life or a CBD apartment; to marry, or not; to have children, or not; to practice religion, or not. Each of us makes numerous choices every day of the year that determine the lifestyle we lead. 

For some that decision to remain in a remote community without employment, with low quality housing and poor access to essential services might also be a choice. But we must also recognise that for others it is a rut, a crutch, or a death sentence from which they might desire to escape.

Just because you are born in a place, doesn't mean you need to stay there, even if you feel tied by family, culture, country, or the fantasy of the dreamtime, which is a religion in all but name. The choice to stay or leave still belongs to the individual.

Nobody should be forced from their home or land, yet there are many instances where the best interests of the individual require authorities to step in and force relocation. The octogenarian battling dementia can no longer live alone in their home of 60 years and is relocated to a nursing home; the children that are removed from an abusive family; the town of Wittenoom evacuated because of continuing asbestos concerns.

I am not suggesting that indigenous people in remote communities should be forced to relocate, but perhaps we can provide significant incentives to encourage them to seek better opportunities, for themselves and their children. Relocation assistance, jobs and housing could be the ticket to a better life if only the opportunity was available. Alas, the current system  is insufficient as an incentive to overcome the strong ties to country and the issues of intergenerational poverty that goes with it.

At the very least we should take Warren Mundine's suggestion of creating regional boarding schools where children can attend and then return to their communities for weekends. This can help ensure that appropriate education and health levels for children are attained while giving families and communities the long term opportunity to develop, become sustainable and even flourish. 

The future of our indigenous Australians in remote communities is currently bleak, but it can be powerful. We need a government that is willing to step up and work with communities to incentivise positive outcomes, rather than cast blame or legislate penalties for negative outcomes.

We all have a right to make our lifestyle choices, but society works best when the playing field is designed so that everyone can be assisted to make the choices that are best for them.