Open Forum has just published two pieces that deserve a response.
The first, by former senior public servant Kevin Fong ("Indigenous renaissance [0]", published on 2 July), points to the successes that are taking place in remote indigenous townships and pleads for these to be acknowledged amidst the continuing focus on indigenous disadvantage.
The second, by Greens Senator Rachel Siewert ("Closing the Gap Between Rudd's rhetoric on Indigenous Australians and budget commitments [0]", published on 1 July), bemoans the inadequacy of federal government funding if the outcomes gap between indigenous and non-indigenous Australians is ever to be seriously tackled.
Of course, there is much to applaud, even in failed communities; and of course, more money might help now and will certainly be needed later even though bitter experience teaches that it's easier to spend money in this area than to make a difference.
Common to both pieces, though, was criticism of governments' "silo" approach to indigenous funding. Departmental programmes are created and indigenous people are funded only to the extent that their particular project fits within specific guidelines. Money is spent on education when it should be spent on health because the education budget has funds, not the health one. Money is spent on a new clinic rather than more staff because there's money in a capital fund, not a recurrent one. Both authors claim that this stymies local initiative and hamstrings real progress.
There are good reasons why governments create programmes with 
guidelines against which all spending must be measured. However rough and ready, it enables particular proposals to be judged and ranked for funding. Announcing programmes and publishing guidelines means that project proponents are bidding for funding on a "level playing field". The alternative, establishing a discretionary fund, means that funding decisions are made on the "vibe" of decision-makers.
Unfortunately, journalists, other politicians and, ultimately, the Australian public have a long history of scepticism verging on cynicism about funding decisions made on a whiteboard in Canberra. Without publicly disclosed programmes and guidelines, how far can decision-makers be trusted to decide for the right reasons? Giving unfettered discretion to ministers, Canberra-based bureaucrats, or even to local indigenous leaders would not, in my judgment, be politically acceptable. Certainly, I doubt very much whether any such discretion would survive the first publicised case of the "missing money".
Still, as Noel Pearson has often said, the best way to ensure an integrated response to the problems of remote indigenous townships is to roll many (if not all) existing programme grants into a global fund that can be allocated in ways which best suit the particular circumstances of each place. If these specific spending decisions can't acceptably be made by indigenous affairs ministers (because they might be politically biased), Canberra officials (who might not really appreciate local conditions) or the local council (which might have competence or partiality issues) what, then, might be the best way forward?
In a speech to mark the first anniversary of the NT intervention, I called for the creation of an elite Remote Administrative Service whose members enjoyed higher salaries and longer contracts in recognition of the difficulty of working in isolated posts. Tackling the seemingly intractable problems of these places needs more than increased numbers of short-term, relatively junior "fly-in, fly-out" officials. These do their best but usually lack the leadership qualities that remote townships need. The appointment of Government Business Managers as part of the intervention is a big step in the right direction. These managers are responsible for coordinating all federal services in the intervention townships. Most of them are older people accustomed in previous positions to exercising authority, often in difficult situations. They have specifically sought these jobs, presumably because they would like to contribute to a challenging but vital aspect of national development. They are not "doing their time" in a remote location because that's expected of people working in a particular government department.
The missionaries of old may have patronised Aboriginal culture, but they regarded their work among Aboriginal people as a sacred trust. For them, working in remote places was not an adornment to their resumes or something to be endured while waiting for a better job. In many cases it was their life's work and quite a few are buried among the people they served.
If remote Aboriginal people are to be empowered to choose a different life and if these townships are to resemble normal Australian communities, they need people of the highest quality living and working there. What's needed is a modern, secular version of the dedication and commitment that the missionaries brought to their task. If properly presented and organised, a Remote Administrative Service could become the public-sector equivalent of the SAS and this could become work to which many of Australia's best and brightest might aspire.
If there was more confidence in the quality of local administration and decision-making, it would be much easier to fund one-off projects and to allow more local discretion over spending taxpayers' money. The Howard government used to fund ad-hoc regional projects on the recommendation of Area Consultative Committees comprising local mayors, business people and civic leaders. These grants were sometimes criticised but the system of making them was generally regarded as reasonable because people respected local leaders' judgment. The long-term involvement of high calibre professionals and administrators would immensely strengthen the social fabric of remote indigenous townships and make more local autonomy politically feasible.
It's easy to be concerned about Aboriginal welfare. How many of us, though, are committed enough to devote a significant part of our lives to Aboriginal people? Australia doesn't simply face a policy challenge here. It's an intensely personal challenge for everyone who claims to take these issues seriously.