The real reasons why our nation is so unproductive

3 weeks ago 12

In all the talk this week about the nation’s productivity, no one has pointed to the lack of competition within the productivity sector itself. Why is there only one Productivity Commission? The commission loves summoning the harsh winds of competition for others, so why not for itself? We need an Alternative Productivity Commission. I’m willing to put myself forward as CEO.

My method will be to think outside the box, starting with the lunch box. I can never find a lid that matches the bottom. Every manufacturer offers a slightly different shape of storage container. Some have right angles at each corner, others prefer curves. Some have lids with clips, others do not. How come? If the Europeans can demand a universal phone charger, why can’t we make life simpler with a Tupperware Australian Standard in which, at various sizes, each brand’s lid would fit the other brand’s bottom? This would save the nation time every morning, as well as reducing the number of muttered swear words heard in the typical kitchen.

Treasury secretary Jenny Wilkinson, Jim Chalmers and Productivity Commission chair Danielle Wood on day two of the summit at Parliament House.

At least the storage containers are always in the same aisle at the supermarket. Everything else in the supermarket is shifted constantly. The smoked salmon alone has a migratory pattern more complex than the fish itself. The kangaroo hops from place to place. The Moove moves. The idea, apparently, is to force the shopper to go searching the store for the items on their list, at which point you’ll stumble into the chocolate aisle and, really, none of us is responsible for what happens next.

Cha-ching! Colesworth has sold you a dozen eggs plus three blocks of overpriced Toblerone. It means shopping takes twice as long as it should, and I end up eating too much chocolate. The Alternative Productivity Commission would demand that all supermarkets have the same store layout, and that such layouts remain fixed forever. With us all saving 30 minutes on the weekly shop and purchasing far less chocolate, think what we’ll be able to achieve as a nation.

The fashion industry needs to do its bit. Most people have experienced the delight of finally finding a pair of pants that fits. You wear them most days for a year, at which point they start to look tatty. “No worries,” you say to yourself, “I’ll pop in and buy another pair. Same size, same style, I can be in and out in a minute.” Oh no you won’t. “That style has been discontinued. We no longer do it in that colour. Or in that cut. Actually, we no longer sell pants, instead specialising in colourful kaftans. Can I interest you in one of those?”

Enough. Any store that offers clothing has to sell the same item for at least five years. In fact, they should have it pre-wrapped, waiting at the till, with your name on it, six months from your original purchase.

Everything else in the supermarket is shifted constantly. The smoked salmon alone has a migratory pattern more complex than the fish itself.

Pubs, of course, need a much stronger regulatory framework. Too often yours truly, who just wants a beer, is left waiting while other customers faff around trying to choose a cocktail, all of which have mildly suggestive names, which they enjoy reading out to one another, laughing and winking, while the rest of us become incapacitated by thirst. Then, finally, they order a One Night Stand, or an I’ll Swipe Right, or a Cor Blimey, at which point the bartender suspends all further service while he makes the damn things, usually involving a trip to the basement to root out more slices of lemon and a last-minute hunt for a cocktail umbrella.

It’s a pub. It should serve two sorts of beer – new and old – a house chardonnay, plus a red wine (which, mysteriously, is kept in the fridge). Think of the improvement to the nation’s productivity, and to our mood, when we no longer have to queue at the pub.

After the queueing, of course, is the paying. “Just tap your card on the reader”, says the bartender, or cafe owner, or fashion retailer, but every machine is different. Sometimes you tap on the side, sometimes the top, sometimes the bottom. With some, you have to press it hard against the surface; with others, that’s the worst thing to do. At this point, the sales assistant is getting a bit snarky. After all, with their machine, it’s always the same spot that needs tapping. Why is the customer being such an idiot? Again, enough. By law, same spot, every machine.

What else? Companies and government departments will be banned from changing their names (thus saving on new stationery and pointless “branding” exercises). Any largely unused bike lane would be resumed (thus saving me from saying “look, no one ever uses it”, every time I drive past). And no one would be allowed to ask us to “rate our service”, thus lowering our national blood pressure.

Oh, and one last thing. The prime minister says “nothing is off the table” when it comes to productivity, but what about the table itself? Surely those flat-pack ones should be banned?

Get a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up for our Opinion newsletter.