Our resident Stats Guy asks whether we could improve development outcomes by minimising the role of politicians and empowering an independent body of technocrats.
Australian infrastructure makes my blood boil regularly.
We overpromise, overspend and underdeliver based on a short-sighted politicised view of the nation’s future.
Infrastructure is in the hands of politicians who may want the best for the country, but who also seek re-election every few years.
Projects are often selected for their political attractiveness rather than for where they will deliver the greatest benefit. This leads to favoured projects being rushed through with overly rosy cost estimates.
Time and again, infrastructure dollars disproportionately flow into marginal seats or electorates targeted for political gain – even when higher-return projects exist elsewhere.
Once a project is committed, political pressure pushes it through regardless of mounting costs or delays. Politicians rarely pull the plug; reputations are defended by downplaying problems or blaming external causes.
Short electoral cycles make things worse. Politicians favour projects with quick, visible benefits over those that would yield larger long-term returns but require patience.
Accountability is weak. Post-completion reviews are often tick-the-box exercises that rarely lead to consequences or improve the delivery of future projects. Mistakes are repeated, taxpayers overpay, and trust in democracy erodes. This really isn’t great.
Could we improve outcomes by minimising the role of politicians and empowering an independent body of technocrats?
I imagine a statutory organisation that sets infrastructure priorities, assesses proposals rigorously, ensures accountability, and allocates funding on merit, transparency, and long-term planning. They would be responsible for pulling the plug on failed efforts too.
Politicians would still set the overall budget and approve the largest projects. But the technical decisions of what gets built, where, when, and how would rest with experts.
Politicians wouldn’t vanish from the process; they would emerge as advocates for community needs, watchdogs over delivery, and challengers when technocrats fail.
The focus would be long-term planning. Every decision would be reviewed with a 30- to 50-year horizon in mind, aligned with a national vision set by elected governments.
Long-term planning should also account for demographic change. We need a clear understanding of how many people Australia will house by 2035, 2050, and 2100.
We must understand where our new populations will likely live, and what infrastructure must be established to support them. Transparent long-term thinking is crucial when deciding which projects are most urgent and which deliver the best value in times of tight budgets.
Government would set the total funds available. Within that envelope, the independent body would determine which projects are funded and in what order, publishing a transparent priority list ranked by economic benefit, social equity, environmental impact, and urgency.
Politicians would be expected to hold technocrats accountable for delivering projects on time and on budget, while technocrats would urge politicians for more resources. This would create a new power balance.
Post evaluation and public reporting would create trust. If projects go over budget or run late, the causes are made public, and lessons are applied to future projects.
Politicians could still advocate for projects in their beloved marginal seats, but only if they meet the criteria. Rather than defending costly mistakes, politicians would gain credit for oversight. Done right, this might strengthen trust in both infrastructure delivery and democracy.
Australia already has the bones of such a expert-driven system in Infrastructure Australia. At present, IA serves as the federal government’s in-house think tank.
It produces cost-benefit analyses, priority lists, and strategy papers, but it has no power to approve or block projects, which means politicians can (and do) ignore IA’s recommendations when electoral politics demands pork-barrelling.
The first step would be to strengthen IA’s mandate. Governments could be required to formally respond to its priority lists. Over time, IA’s role could expand to approving and sequencing projects within the budget envelope set by Parliament.
Post-completion oversight would also need teeth. If projects run late or over budget, public comparisons to benchmarks should be published and consequences triggered.
At the very least, the responsible political party or agency would be named and shamed. Transparency would ensure lessons are learned rather than mistakes repeated.
Independence would be central. Commissioners or board members should have fixed, staggered terms; appointments must be transparent; IA’s budget guaranteed by law so it can attract and retain top technical talent.
Paying well above market rates is a small price to secure the brightest expertise and reduce the risk of corruption. If corruption did occur, both officials and companies would face serious consequences.
Critics will argue that removing decision-making power from elected officials reduces accountability to voters. But voters would still elect governments to set budgets, population strategies, and national priorities.
The technocratic body would be held accountable through transparency, audits, and public reporting.
Experts are not flawless. They may be risk-averse, biased, or seduced by prestige projects. That’s why robust oversight and clear evaluation metrics are essential.
Running a strong IA would also cost money, but wage costs would be negligible compared with the savings from better project selection and fewer blowouts.
Politicians may fear they are giving up power, but they also stand to gain. Their role would shift from defending delayed and over-budget projects to championing their communities and holding technocrats to account.
Even when a preferred project doesn’t make the cut, they can credibly tell voters: “I pushed for it, but these evil independent experts judged the project wasn’t going ahead.” Politicians can claim to have done their bit while deflecting blame on the technocratic authority.
Other nations have already moved further in depoliticising big builds. The UK established the National Infrastructure and Service Transformation Authority, which develops long-term plans governments must formally respond to.
Canada’s Infrastructure Bank co-funds projects with strong social and commercial returns, shielding decisions from short-term politics. Singapore, famous for its city-state efficiency, runs infrastructure through statutory boards with long planning horizons and little tolerance for pork-barrelling.
Independence, technocracy, and transparency can be hard-wired into the system. In Australia we wouldn’t be reinventing the wheel, just catching up.
Depoliticising infrastructure doesn’t remove politics; it streamlines it. Let politicians decide how much to spend; let technocrats decide where the money yields most value; let politicians in turn keep infrastructure projects accountable by pushing for them to be delivered on time and on budget. Credit and blame would be shared.
Infrastructure Australia is a solid foundation on which to build. What’s needed now are incremental but meaningful reforms to shift more of the technical decisions, accountability, and priority-setting into independent, technocratic hands. Singapore remains a great case study in this respect.
If done right, this approach can produce more efficient infrastructure, fairer outcomes, fewer cost blowouts, and greater trust in public institutions – with investments made on the basis of what Australia needs over the next 50 years, not the next election.
Simon Kuestenmacher is a co-founder of The Demographics Group. His columns, media commentary and public speaking focus on current socio-demographic trends and how these impact Australia. His podcast, Demographics Decoded, explores the world through the demographic lens. Follow Simon on Twitter (X), Facebook, or LinkedIn.