Anthony Byrne (Holt, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I was just talking to the member for McMillan about this. The irony, if there can be irony about someone who was so beloved and that passed last Saturday, is so rich, as I said to a journalist on the day that this terrible tragedy occurred. I was talking about the fact that there was a book which I had borrowed, a book that was published in 1993, Paul Keating: A Question of Leadership, by Michael Gordon about Paul Keating. The opening chapter is about a guy called Dr Chris Higgins, who was a former Treasury official. It's an incredibly powerful opening chapter. It explains the mindset of the then Treasurer before he gave the very famous Press Club speech.

In the first chapter, in the first couple of pages, he talks about an incredibly well-loved Treasury official who was 47 who competed in an event and then collapsed and died of a heart attack. It's hard to precisely put my feelings into words when this book had such a powerful impact on me in deciding whether or not to pursue an active political career. The fact that that very first stanza talks about a beloved individual—and Keating was very moved by what had happened to Dr Higgins, and I think that powered a lot of his reaction and then the subsequent Press Club speech, the 'Placido Domingo' speech—gives Michael's passing additional context as well.

Discussing it, for me personally, it's like a chapter of your life closing. That's how it felt when I got the news, sometime after Michael's tragic passing, about Michael, because he'd been so much a part of the fabric of my political existence for such a long period of time. I didn't know him deeply well as a person, as the member for McMillan did, quite clearly, but I knew him as a profoundly ethical, moral and deep-thinking journalist and someone who, when you thought about the reportage of the media and the direction that it takes, you would look at and say, 'This guy is an example of what the best was in journalism.' Michael really did represent journalism at its finest, in my view. He was independent. He was a critical thinker. He was a warm—I think that was powered by his personality—generous, decent human being. You could have disagreements with him but, you knew at the end of those glasses when you were having a conversation about life or politics or the events of the day, there was a deeply thoughtful, profoundly intelligent human being, and a really good person.

I think for journalists that now live in the ebb and flow of the journalistic environment, particularly the current crop of journalists, they should reflect closely about how parliament and parliamentarians have universally responded with grief about the loss of Michael. I think if some of them reflected—and this is no reflection on any journalist individually—on some journalists now, I wonder what sort of reaction there would be. That's not to denigrate journalists that are here now, but Michael serves as a beacon, I think, for journalists. He serves in the proudest traditions of journalism. I think that in my dealings with him—and others will talk at far greater length than I about their dealings—you really knew what you said to the guy at the end of the phone or sitting across from you was going to be held in confidence, even if he disagreed with you.

If you read the biography of Keating, Michael's not an uncritical assessor of the former Prime Minister and Treasurer. If you look, he breathed through the gift of how he used the English language. He breathed life into a story. You could really touch it. One of the great things, I think, about this book and the quality of his journalism was he breathed life into it. We can often be seen to be as acting as caricatures, as cartoon characters or as silhouettes. What Michael did for me in terms of Paul Keating was breathe life into him. He wasn't just this saturnine figure; he was a living, breathing person. If you look at the tributes when he first wrote this book in 1993, his first iteration before Keating won the Prime Ministership in 1993, you have people like Laurie Oakes, Neville Wran, Janine Haines, John Button and Michelle Grattan singing his praises in terms of how he wrote this book.

I really do regret having to stand up here today because it's a reminder of the ephemeral, transitory nature of our lives. It also reminds us that if there are people we haven't spoken to—I saw that Michael had stepped aside and retired from The Age, and it was always one of those things where I thought he's a really interesting person to catch up. I really would have wanted to talk to him. He's one of those journalists that you wanted to. He had such depth and breadth as a human being. He was a real person, and the more I learn about him in his passing. I was watching him on Facebook—I was a Facebook friend—about the work he was doing in Africa. There was a living, breathing, decent human being you wanted to catch up with and have a coffee with. I hadn't had a chance to extend my commiserations, from my perspective, about his leaving because I think the press gallery was the poorer for him retiring from The Age, but I never did. I was always going to. In fact, without making too much of a big deal, I thought that week before—you put it on your list of things to do: 'I'll give him a call'; I should have chased him up; I wanted to say I really missed him.

When I explained to him a number of years ago about how influential the book was, it was hard to get a copy so I chanced my arm. Joking about it I asked, 'You wouldn't have a copy?' For weeks he went searching for a copy he'd had in his archive, and then he turned up one day and said, 'I got a copy for you.' No big deal, no great fuss, just the man, his normal humble self. He gave me the book—it's a different iteration to this one—and he'd signed it, 'To a true believer'. I've still got that, and I posted it on the day that I found that Michael had passed. It was just the way he did it; he didn't have to do it and there was nothing in it for him but it was just a mark of the man, the calibre of the person. Like I said, the deepest regret I have is that I didn't have the chance to tell him what I thought about him as a journalist, so I'm going to use the parliamentary record. Michael: you were an incredibly fine human being. You were the best of what journalists represent. I was incredibly sad to see that you had stepped away, stepped aside and retired. I was excited about the fact that you were going to have a new chapter of your life open, and I'm absolutely crushed that that hasn't happened, and I think we are all the worse for it.

Josh Frydenberg (Kooyong, Liberal Party, Minister for the Environment and Energy) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The passing of Michael Gordon saw Australia lose a first-class journalist and a first-class human being. Our thoughts go out to his wife, Robyn, his children, Scott and Sarah, son-in-law, James, and grandson, Harry.

I knew Michael through my time working in this place, both as a member and with ministers past, and he was a constituent in Kooyong. He was thoroughly decent, eternally brave, always resourceful, passionate and deeply modest. I join with my colleagues who have paid tribute in this place to his achievements as a journalist. In 2005, he was the Australian Journalist of the Year, as awarded by the Melbourne Press Club. He had a long career as a journalist, having begun at The Age as a cadet in 1973. Last year, the Walkley Foundation's Outstanding Contribution to Journalism award was made to him, and the foundation wrote:

The overwhelming impression Gordon left—with both his byline and his presence—was of decency, integrity, fairness and balance. Even when he was working at the epicentre of influence, he held himself outside the media pack.

It's that notion of independence and having his own moral compass, which he followed throughout his long career, that has left an indelible mark on all those who worked with him and met with him.

His coverage of issues reflected not only matters of public importance but those which he cared about deeply. I'm talking particularly about Indigenous issues, asylum seekers and humanitarian issues. It's fair to say that he would have had a lot of differences with members of parliament, from both the government and the opposition benches, but they respected him. Bruce Guthrie, who wrote so warmly about his long relationship with Michael Gordon, said:

It was no surprise that key players on all sides of politics talked to him willingly. His sources were impeccable because he treated them impeccably.

I think that is Michael Gordon to a tee.

He had a broad range of interests: surfing, music and, of course, the Hawthorn Football Club. I know that he has left many friends behind, and we have heard passionately from them in the House, including from the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition, but also from the member for McMillan, who knew him so very well. At this time, I pay my respects to Michael Gordon for a big life, for a good life and for one in which he made a real difference to people's lives. He will be sorely missed but remembered fondly and respectfully.

Julian Leeser (Berowra, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It's an honour to participate in this condolence motion for the former Age journalist Michael Gordon and to follow the contributions made by the member for Holt and my friend the minister, the member for Kooyong. It's also an honour to participate in a debate that has already been contributed to by my friend the member for McMillan, who knew Michael Gordon so well, and will be contributed to later by the member for Scullin and the member for Hotham, who I know was a family friend of many years standing of Michael Gordon.

Shakespeare wrote, 'The breaking of so great a thing should make a greater crack.' That was how I felt when I heard that Michael Gordon had died at the weekend. I didn't know Michael Gordon very well and I certainly didn't know him as well as the member for McMillan or the member for Hotham, but, in the short time I knew Michael, I had an enormous respect for him and for his writing. At a time when so many members of the fourth estate are interested only in the horserace—who's up and who's down—and not really interested in the fundamental work that we as parliamentarians do here in making policy and scrutinising that policy, Michael Gordon carved out a very different space in the press gallery of this nation. Michael's particular interests were migration policy, particularly issues to do with offshore detention and refugees, and Indigenous policy.

It was in the space of Indigenous policy that I first got to know Michael. Before I became a member of parliament in 2014, with my friend Damien Freeman I published a pamphlet called The Australian Declaration of Recognition. The declaration was launched by Noel Pearson in the Dixson Room of the State Library of New South Wales. For anyone who's been involved in publishing and trying to contribute ideas to the public debate, it can sometimes seem like a glamorous thing, but when you're a one- or two-man band, or two-person band, you end up having to do all the administrative tasks yourself. So I was setting up stands, putting up banners and the like, and I suddenly received a call on my phone about 10 minutes before we were due to start from Michael, saying that he'd heard about the publication that we had done and that he wanted to have a chat with me about it. Being perhaps too overly Sydney-centric in my views, I had failed to properly reach out to Michael and discuss the proposal with him, but, unlike a lot of journalists, he wasn't fazed that he'd been left out in some way. In fact, he wanted to follow the story. He was interested in the issue, he was interested in our take on this particular aspect of the Indigenous recognition debate and he wrote up the launch and the publication and what we were trying to do very fairly.

Later, when I came here to the parliament, he sat down with me after my maiden speech and talked about some of the issues around mental health, about which I have a very deep interest, and around suicide prevention. He was interested in those issues, as he was in Indigenous recognition. He was interested in looking for people in this place who were interested in making a contribution in the areas which aren't perhaps always the central focus of the daily argy-bargy of politics. I found him a person that one could talk to, a person that you could get a fair hearing from and a person who was genuinely interested in the details. That really marked him out as a very different sort of journalist.

Michael had a long career in journalism. In fact, he was from a distinguished family of journalists. Thirty-seven years at The Age was an incredible devotion to that newspaper. The member for Holt talked about the book that Michael Gordon wrote about Paul Keating. I remember being shocked sitting in the chamber and hearing that Michael was due to leave the parliament when the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition made speeches about him last year. I think it was at about the same time as the press gallery annual midwinter dinner. That night I had the privilege of sitting with the member for Hotham and she said to me, 'Michael speaks very well of you.' I said: 'I had no idea he was going. Do you think he's here tonight?' She said, 'He's absolutely here.' So I went over to Michael and I said: 'I'm so sorry that you're leaving. I'm so sorry the country will be the poorer for you not being here.' Michael teared up. It was very clear to me that he didn't want to necessarily leave this place and that he loved being a journalist in the Australian parliamentary press gallery. I was interested, as the member for Holt said, in catching up with Michael in Melbourne. I was interested in seeing what he would do in the next phase of his career. The events of last weekend cut that so short.

I want to finish my remarks today with a quote from the Walkley award citation for his outstanding contribution to journalism, which he won in 2017, because I think it sums up very much the legacy of this very fine Australian. The citation says:

The overwhelming impression Gordon left—with both his byline and his presence—was of decency, integrity, fairness and balance. Even when he was working at the epicentre of influence, he held himself outside the media pack. And his compassion shone through as he fought to give voice to the underdogs. He was the first Australian journalist to gain access to the detention centre on Nauru; he spent time in remote communities listening to our first peoples, and won a Walkley for his coverage of Indigenous affairs in 2003.

To his family—his wife, Robyn, his children, Scott and Sarah, his son-in-law, James, and his grandson, Harry—I offer my sincere condolences on the passing of a great Australian.

Andrew Giles (Scullin, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Assistant Minister for Schools) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise to make a brief contribution to this condolence debate to pay tribute to a man I knew a little and admired a lot. It's fitting that Michael Gordon's big but all-too-brief life is honoured in our parliament. This is, as it should be—and it's fitting also that such beautiful tributes were paid to him by the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition in the House—a moment of kindness and decency in tribute to a man of extraordinary kindness and decency. I associate myself also with some wonderful speeches made just now, particularly those of the member for Berowra, the member for Holt, the member for Fenner and, of course, the member for Kooyong, and I look forward to hearing the contribution of the member for McMillan and also that of my friend the member for Hotham, for whom the man who is the subject of this debate means so much.

I've been reading the tributes to Michael made by those who knew him best. I can't really add to the personal stories or share the all-too-evident pain of loss. That's not my place, as it wasn't my privilege to know Michael that well. But I was privileged to know him. We shared a concern for our nation's attitude to those forced to ask us for help and we spoke often about the challenges of the politics and policy of asylum. The questions he asked me showed his compassion, his professionalism and his complete lack of cynicism. After every discussion we had, I found myself thinking at length about what he had said and whether I was doing as I should have been, and asking myself how I could do my job and discharge my responsibilities in a way that could meet the bar his expectations set. I've been thinking about that this week too, and I suspect I am not alone in asking hard questions of myself in light of these tragic events.

As a political journalist, Michael wrote a large part of our recent past into history. He told the stories of this place and many other places in a way that inspired and engaged. He brought others along with him in his evident love of his profession and what it meant and why it mattered. Matt Dawson, who works with me, told me this morning of how welcoming and encouraging Michael had been to him on arrival in the gallery—one story, one part of a legacy which is monumental. On leaving the gallery, Michael went to work in support of the McKinnon Prize in Political Leadership, amongst some other things. It strikes me that, beyond any words which are spoken today, those of us who have public office could honour him by doing our jobs more in the way he approached his—with kindness and concern for others, with generosity which is fit for our purpose, and without cynicism.

All my best thoughts go to his family and those very many people who loved him dearly. Vale.

Russell Broadbent (McMillan, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I thank the members who have participated in this condolence motion and recognise the unusual nature of it. I spoke to Russell Barton, a very close friend of Michael's, this morning, and he summed it up beautifully for me. He said that he and his wife were in disbelief—'in disbelief'. And I suppose—I know—a lot of us are feeling exactly that. So, in that space of disbelief, and what's happened since Saturday morning, and the tributes that have been given so wonderfully regarding Michael, I suppose my address will be directed at young Harry, who Michael was, I think, so, so excited about.

I speak today because I wanted to get out something that I had written—a tribute to Michael when he left the parliament. And I don't think the Prime Minister will mind me telling tales. I wrote this:

Have you ever been hugged by Michael? I have!

I had just delivered an address that began.

"I did not choose this path. This path chose me."

And I walked into my office—in a state of high emotion, I might add—and Michael threw his arms around me. He must have run to my office. He was standing waiting for me.

Halfway through the hug…….I realised I was being hugged by the generations of those who believed in the right, the fair, the truth.

The hug that lingers has its DNA reproduced in the articles that flow out of the pen that creates the picture and emotions that linger on after reading. Michael's best compliment.

Early AM one Sunday I was on the ride-on; the phone rings; it's Malcolm! 'Had to ring you about this announcement before Micky Gordon could get to you.' I said, 'It won't be much of an announcement then, Malcolm, will it?' Well, it wasn't much of an announcement. I was so glad that the threat was that Micky Gordon would get to me first. And then I wished Michael all the best on his adventure, which I knew it would be after he left The Age, and that was just beginning to build.

You know, I will be personal for a moment, because, with Michael, if you knew him, you knew that every contact, every greeting, was a great moment in time; every homecoming, especially to Robyn, was an event; and every personal interaction was a reason for a hug—no matter where you were, public or non-public, a hug. A light went out in Michael, from my point of view—and, yes, it's true; we did speak, probably, weekly; yes, it's true. And a light went out in him when Harry died, but it was kindled to a re-blaze when young Harry was born. Michael was beside himself with young Harry. Life was good; life was expansive. As I said the other day, he was about to work on a project with John Howard and Julia Gillard, and he was like a kid with a new toy, flying.

I learned something else from Russell Barton today that you need to know too. He said to me that, when they used to run marathons together and the marathon finished in the run-up to Parliament House, Michael would make his biggest effort in that last run-up, after all the kilometres. I said to Russell, 'Well, he'd have been competitive on Saturday. There'd have been somebody in that race that he wanted to beat—no doubt about it—and he was within sight of the shoreline, within sight of the finish, so he'd have been doing the Michael Gordon final, final push.'

When you talk about Michael's writing, which I loved, Michael's dad wrote the book about the Hawthorn Football Club The Hard Way, and Michael followed up with Playing to Win. So much has been said in the tributes on Michael, there's nothing more I can add to the brilliance of what those tributes have been. But one thing that has come to my knowledge is this. In Harry's book The Hard Way, Sandy Ferguson, who was the president and doctor of the Hawthorn Football Club, was quoted as saying, 'If you embrace Hawthorn, Hawthorn will embrace you.' Michael carried on by writing the book Playing To Win. The great Hawthorn coach, Parkin, talked the other day about his sacking and how engaging with Michael was able to bring him to a place where he got the message that he had to go at that time. So, if you embrace Hawthorn, Hawthorn will embrace you. I'd say, 'If you embraced Michael, Michael would embrace you.' He would not only embrace you but hug you in a way that you knew you couldn't let go until you got the message—the hug that resonates.

I just want to finish with this. At Harry's funeral, somebody said to me: 'You know, journalism's just a craft. You can learn it.' I said: 'I disagree. It's a gift. You've got it or you haven't got it.' Michael Gordon had it in spades. So, that's your grandfather, young Harry—he had his talent in spades.

Clare O'Neil (Hotham, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister for Justice) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Vale Michael Gordon, a giant of Australian journalism, a father, a husband, a grandfather, a dear friend of mine and a mentor to so many of us here in Parliament House. His passing is a devastating loss to the gallery and, I believe, to our democracy. Michael was an incredible man. I can't recall knowing someone more respectful, polite, dignified and humble. It's especially noteworthy to have these qualities in someone who spent so much time around politics. Disrespect and ego are contagious diseases in this building, but Michael never fell foul of either.

I've noticed that, since his death, an incredibly large number of people have come forward saying they had a special and deep relationship with Michael. I felt that I had a special and deep relationship with him and I've been surprised and delighted to see that so many others in this building got to share in his amazing wisdom. Michael was a journalist in the old mould. His model of journalism was better for the country. I don't think you'd find anyone in the press gallery who'd disagree with that. It was the kind of journalism that stuck with a story, that genuinely held decision-makers to account and that provided deep analysis of the issues that made readers and their leaders think better and more clearly about national problems.

Journalism has moved on from there and that's a very sad thing. Many of us here saw Mickey struggle to give the qualities of courage and integrity to the story in the new media environment. He continued with the style and type of journalism that may not serve as particularly good click bait, but it was something that the public and all of us desperately needed more of: tempered, nuanced, balanced, fair and thoughtful words.

This week I sat in Labor's first nations' caucus amongst some of the leading Indigenous thinkers in our country. I'm lucky to sit with them in the Labor caucus. We were discussing what I regard as one of the most critical and important issues that our country faces: how we close the gap with our Indigenous brothers and sisters. I thought: 'Who is going to report on these issues now in the way that Michael would have reported on them? Who is going to take the time to really understand this, visit the first nations leaders and speak with their communities to understand what's actually happening on the ground? Who is going to follow this story for decades to really understand the ups and downs?' I don't think we'll ever see an Australian journalist get as across these issues as the way Michael Gordon did.

I saw Michael about two months ago. We caught up for lunch and he was entering a new phase. I heard the member for McMillan talking about how excited he was about Michael's new project. It's ironic that it was after leaving Fairfax that he looked like he was going to be able to get back to that type of journalism—the long-form type of journalism that so much sustained him.

I want Robyn, Scott and Sarah to know that much of our last conversation was about them and his excitement about what was happening in their lives and the fact that, after his retirement from The Age, for the first time he was really getting to share so much more of their lives with them—spending time with Robyn at their holiday house; Sarah having recently become a mum and all the time he was spending with little Harry; and his incredible visit to Sierra Leone with Scotty. He was so proud of his kids and he talked about them all the time.

I know I will miss his presence in the press gallery as he watched over question time. I used to look up at his face and I could see we were disappointing him every single day, but seeing him up there made me strive to do what we're trying to do better. I think others felt the same. There he sat, quietly, seriously, watching over affairs, seeing the parliament through its ups and downs over many decades and writing calm, serious, real journalism about the most important issues that confront our country. We are going to miss Michael Gordon, the man, and also his contribution to public life in this country. May he rest in peace.

Scott Buchholz (Wright, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

For the benefit of Michael's family and descendants, I encourage them to take comfort in the honour that this house has bestowed upon him and the heartfelt memories that have been shared by both sides equally. Those comments haven't been shared by members of this house just for the benefit of each other; they've been shared for the benefit of the nation and for our country. We are all the beneficiaries of his work. We flatter him because his life was inviting. He was nonhostile and always seemed to be fair. I think the best way we can honour Michael is—it's so comforting to hear an accolade that we give to a journalist, but if we could have given that to him while he was here he would have blushed—maybe we can find those amongst us in the journalistic core that are also worthy of accolade and give that to them personally so they hear it. They will blush, but, when you do it, you will be honouring Michael. Vale.