This article provides an overview of the developments in 2004 regarding the constitutional freedom of political communication. This will be done through a discussion of the cases of Coleman v Power and Mulholland v Australian Electoral Commission. These two cases have confirmed the validity of the general propositions in Lange v Australian Broadcasting Corporation, regarding the existence of a freedom of political communication implied from the Australian Constitution, and provide the basis for some observations with respect to that implication. In this article an overview is given of the basic principles in Lange, followed by a detailed discussion of relevant parts of the judgments in Coleman and Mulholland. This article ends with analysis of some of the issues raised by the cases.

The purpose of this article is to examine Australia's regulatory system for the classification of publications, films and computer games, the National Classification System (‘NCS’), and to question whether its classification decision process is susceptible to political influence. Formed in 1995 as a cooperative scheme between the Commonwealth, States and Territories, the NCS was created to overcome problems associated with former classification schemes that operated on a non-national basis in each Australian jurisdiction. It is argued that, although the current system is superior to the ones of the past, it still allows, or at least perceivably allows, political influence in censorship decision-making, as was historically the case. This is because documents used by the Classification Board and Classification Review Board (‘the Boards’) to make classification decisions are ambiguous and often inconsistent, and, even with redrafting, would remain so without the benefit of judicial precedent. The ambiguity created by the classification documents legitimates the possible exercise of political influence through a variety of means.

My first and quite unnecessary comment is that if anyone can speak with authority about Freedom of Information (“FOI”) in Australia and about the origins of the Commonwealth’s Freedom of Information Act in particular it surely is Mr Lindsay Curtis. I recall many of the events of 1973 onwards into 1979 when I retired from the Public Service. Especially I recall the long haul that was commenced in 1973 with the assistance of Mr Tony Mondello, the legal adviser to the United States Civil Service Commission, and that eventually reached fruition in 1982 with the passage of the FOI Act. All through that period Lindsay Curtis was more closely associated than any other public servant with the project. He has given us the benefit of that experience in an interesting, able and fluent paper.

My second and equally obvious comment is that the FOI Act is here to stay. Lindsay Curtis has said we are undergoing a revolution. I believe the revolution has already taken place. Some of us may find it rather difficult to live with the consequences.

In Australia there are nine bodies of legislation; Commonwealth, State and Territorial. The laws within each of these systems may differ from each other in significant ways. Such differences, especially when occurring in areas of “technical law”, may cause considerable inconvenience to Australians and to their legal advisers. In social and economic terms, for many purposes Australia is a single nation, and is not divided by State boundaries. Enactment of uniform laws in each part of Australia could lead to much greater convenience for businesses, individual citizens and lawyers.

This article examines some of the ways in which international organisations and bodies within other federal nations have been working towards the unification and harmonisation of rules of law, in selected areas. From this examination, some parallels are drawn with the situation in Australia. The article also makes some suggestions for greater uniformity of laws in Australia against the political background which may explain why law in Australia has come to be diverse.

Imagine this scenario. A court composed of an even number of judges is deciding the constitutionality of national legislation critical to the efficient administration of justice in a federal state. In argument, the chief law officers of all representative governments ask that the legislation be upheld as it was reached through a lengthy negotiated compromise of all the parties. By virtue of an equal split of opinion between the six judges hearing the case, a legislative 'sleight of hand' is triggered and the scheme is found to be constitutional. Twelve months on, the same court agrees to reconsider its previous decision. Things are generally unchanged, the same arguments are presented. The matter, however, is heard by a differently-composed, odd-numbered bench. If ever the combined desire of all governments was that a court should heed the ancient maxim 'stare decisis et non quieta movere–stand by the thing decided and do not disturb the calm'–it would be now. Instead, a majority finds that the same scheme is unconstitutional; it therefore collapses.

The use of public procurement as a vehicle for achieving public policy objectives can conveniently be traced to the Fair Wages Resolution which was adopted by the British House of Commons in 1891. This technique was subsequently adopted in many jurisdictions, and finds clear expression in the International Labour Organisation (‘ILO’)'s Labour Clauses (Public Contracts) Convention 1949 (No 94) (‘Convention No 94’). This article describes the British model and its international progeny, and then examines a controversial and unusual Australian mutation in the form of the National Code of Practice for the Construction Industry (‘Code’) and the various iterations of the associated Implementation Guidelines (‘Guidelines’) which have been adopted since 1998. It suggests that the Code and Guidelines, especially under the Howard Government, constitute a perversion of the traditional use of public procurement as a vehicle for the implementation of public policy in the industrial context. That is because they were directed to the curtailment of the rights of workers and their organisations rather than protecting employment standards and promoting collective bargaining. The article argues that the Code and Guidelines sit uneasily with accepted notions of the rule of law in a number of respects, and with certain aspects of Australia's obligations in international law. It also discusses the Fair Work Principles (‘FW Principles’) which have applied to all aspects of procurement by the Commonwealth since January 2010, and suggests that they embody an approach to public procurement and the promotion of social objectives which is rather more in keeping with international best practice than that reflected in the Construction Industry Code and Guidelines.

The relationship between ultra vires and negligence in a statutory body has become important as a result of recent House of Lords decisions. In this article this relationship is examined and found to contain some serious difficulties. A solution to these difficulties is proposed.

The relationship between law and history has long been the subject of academic interest. Both disciplines have occasion to turn to the past, yet their purposes and methods for doing so often vary. Some commentators have noted the similarities between the two disciplines, describing them as ‘intellectual cousins’ who share a ‘natural affinity'. Yet, equally, commentators have noted the tensions between the two disciplines, depicting them not as allies but as strangers or enemies. These scholars have painted a picture of competing logics, suggesting that the clash between the law's ‘logic of authority’ and the historian's ‘logic of evidence’ creates an uneasy relationship.

Although capturing the attention of both judges and commentators, the intersection between law and history continues to elude precise definition.

Australia's telecommunications sector is in the process of remarkable change. Over the past decade, it has evolved from a market dominated by a government owned entity (Telecom) with a statutory monopoly, to a privatised and fully competitive market comprising “carriers”, “carriage service providers” and “content service providers”, each providing an ever-expanding range of services through a variety of delivery platforms. The aim of this paper is to review the rapidly evolving legal and administrative framework for the protection of privacy within Australia's telecommunications sector. The paper will survey the regulation of telecommunications interception by individuals and law enforcement bodies, disclosure of the contents of (tele)communications by telecommunications service providers, encryption policy, computer “hacking” offences, the Telecommunications Industry Ombudsman scheme and the new “co-regulatory” approach to standards development through the Australian Communications Industry Forum (ACIF). The paper will also consider whether Australia's privacy regime is an adequate response to the challenges posed by the changing telecommunications environment.

I was asked to address the impact of the Administrative Decisions (Judicial Review) Act 1977 (Cth) (ADJR Act) in the field of broadcasting. That is not the title of this paper, as I frankly doubt that the availability of review under the ADJR Act has made that much difference in this area.

This is not to say, of course, that there have not been important challenges to administrative decisions in this field, with significant consequences, both for those of us working in the area and for administrative law in general. I remain to be convinced, however, that similar challenges would not have occurred, or that there would have been that many less applications for review, if parties to proceedings before the Australian Broadcasting Tribunal (“ABT”) had been left to their remedies under the general law.