'Take that out of your mouth, I have to touch that,' barked the Border Protection officer, glaring at me. I'd been juggling bags, boarding tickets, and a passenger exit card, so my passport was positioned precariously between my lips.
Shame-faced, I put my bags down, took the passport out of my mouth and repositioned my belongings so I could hold it while I waited for Officer Border Protection to finish shuffling the papers in front of him.
I wondered if there was a class for teaching them how to be that special mix of forcefully domineering and nasty. We've all experienced it — whether waiting in line to enter or leave Australia — that tangible feeling as you approach the Border Protection counters, that here are people with the power to make your life a temporary nightmare if they don't like the cut of your jib.
They have the authority to disrupt your travel plans in an instant and they know it. I'm a true-blue, fair-skinned Aussie; God help the people who have exotic accents and more melanin that me.
It's not just at airports that ordinary people are increasingly feeling a sense of helplessness in the face of bureaucratic antagonism. Our governing and public service bodies more and more seem to be succumbing to a Mean Virus.
We have long failed to properly address restitution for our Indigenous brothers and sisters; we lock up innocent asylum seekers and refugees in degrading and deplorable conditions; our politicians have eagerly taken up anti-Muslim fear mongering to gain votes; and castigating welfare recipients and those who need a bit of extra help as dole-bludgers is regular shock-jock fare.
Penny-pinching seems to be the raison d'etre of all government departments. Imagine if our Department of Health was told to look for ways to increase its spending on providing healthcare, particularly for the most vulnerable in our community.
The reason we have this Mean Virus spreading is a fundamental breakdown of trust between institutions and individuals.
"Trust between government and society's institutional bodies, and the individuals that make up our nation is being severely eroded to our collective detriment."
When my friend Melissa* was packing her son Daniel's* bag for summer camp, space was at a premium. Along with the myriad necessary items a young teenager requires was a card with his asthma preventer tablets along with the original pharmacy sticker detailing his name and prescription details that Melissa had carefully snipped away from the original box. Imagine Melissa's surprise, then, when she received a call from the camp administrators. Because the rest of the cardboard wasn't wrapped around the tablets, they were legally unable to give Daniel his medication, nor could he take it himself because the summer camp fell under childcare regulations designed for pre-schoolers.
What was the camp administrator's alternative solution to Melissa taking unscheduled time off work to go to the doctor, get a new script, buy a new box of medication and drive it a hundred kilometres to the camp? Daniel just not take his medication for the week.
The camp administrators felt it was better for Daniel to neglect his medication than run afoul of the childcare regulations. But better for whom? Certainly not Daniel, since asthma can be a life-threatening disease if not well-managed. No, it was better for the camp business that feared government auditing and presumably litigation in some hazy possible future legal case. The fear of unreasonable punishment by government bureaucracy was greater than the concern for Daniel's actual health and wellbeing.
Trust between government and society's institutional bodies, and the individuals that make up our nation (and indeed many Western democratic nations) is being severely and dangerously eroded to our collective detriment.
The ongoing Centrelink debt-recovery debacle, in which an automated system has sent out incorrect debt notices to welfare recipients, is another example that demonstrates how our public service bodies no longer deserve their name. There seems to be a toxic attitude in which trust in ordinary individual Australians has decayed under decades of policy directions treating all of us as potential adversaries. More and more our public service institutions are not serving the public, they are serving the vested and partisan interests of those in power. They can be terribly mean.
The flip-side to that coin is that individuals increasingly do not trust the government or its bureaucratic institutions either. We need an alternative vision for our society. One that rejects fear, suspicion and meanness. We need to hold our politicians, our public servants, and indeed all of us, to a better standard. We need to build a society based on justice, compassion, equality, support for the vulnerable and the flourishing of all. Whatever it costs in monetary terms, it will be a hell of a lot cheaper than the malignant future we are heading towards.
Dr Rachel Woodlock is an expat Australian academic and writer living in Ireland.
*Names have been changed.