Michaelia Cash (WA, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for Foreign Affairs) Share this | Hansard source

On behalf of the opposition, today we mark the passing of John Owen Stone AO. He was someone who, without a doubt, it is recognised on both sides of politics, was a man of formidable intellect. He was an unflinching public servant and, without a doubt, one of the most remarkable Australians to ever enter the parliament. He was also a humble man. He was never a man to chase popularity. He is often said, though, to have chased principle. He pursued policy. He followed reason. In doing so, he helped shape the economic foundations of modern Australia.

Born in my home city of Perth in 1929, he was the eldest of two sons to a wheat farmer and a schoolteacher. John's early years were spent in the harsh, formative country of my home state's wheat belt. His parents divorced when he was 12. Alongside his mother and younger brother, he moved to Perth, where he won a scholarship to Perth Modern School. He later earned first class honours in mathematical physics at the University of Western Australia. He could have stopped there; that was a huge achievement within itself. Throughout his life, and certainly his life of public service, he became known as someone who was never content to stand still. In fact, in 1951 he won a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford and switched from physics to economics, and again he graduated with first class honours.

It was a beginning of public life marked by clarity, conviction and, in no small measure—we've already heard about some of it—controversy. He joined Treasury in 1954, and over the next 30 years he rose through its ranks, serving overseas in London and Washington, shaping economic doctrine, defying Prime Ministers and eventually leading the department as secretary from 1979 to 1984. To say that John Stone transformed Treasury is no overstatement. In fact, his colleagues referred to it as 'the Stone Age', a term meant both critically and admiringly. He believed Treasury should be the gatekeeper of prudence, the check against what he called the barbarian hordes of unchecked spending and policy expediency.

Whether he was advising Whitlam, Hayden, Howard or Keating, the one thing you can say about John Stone is that he never hesitated to speak truth to power. John Howard, who worked with Stone as Treasurer, described him as a man never to be taken for granted, a superb intellect, a talented wordsmith and a relentless champion of sound of public policy. Even his written minutes, acerbic and precise, carried the sharp clarity of a mind intolerant of muddled thinking. He stood firmly for small government, low taxes and individual responsibility. He was a fierce critic of protectionism, centralised wage fixing and government overreach. He warned early of Australia's growing foreign debt, low productivity and economic drift. Not every prediction proved right, but few, as has been said, were ever ill considered. He was, in Paul Kelly's words, 'one of the two men who ran the nation' during the Fraser years.

In 1987—and this is actually quite remarkable, particularly for those in this place who understand the Public Service—he did something few public servants have ever done: he entered parliament. As a senator for Queensland and Leader of the National Party in this chamber, he quickly made his mark. In his first speech, he proclaimed, 'small is beautiful'—a credo he carried into his vigorous opposition to Labor's Australia Card legislation. It was John Stone who exposed the regulatory flaw that ultimately sank the scheme. He was not easily managed, but he was valued. Even after being dismissed from the frontbench, he was soon reinstated. That was the kind of colleague Stone was: challenging, yes, but, at the same time, indispensable.

Outside of parliament, Stone's influence never waned. He co-founded the HR Nicholls Society and the Samuel Griffith Society. He wrote prolifically. He spoke regularly. He championed federalism, individual liberty and a sceptical view of government power. He opposed multiculturalism, judicial activism and the republic. Now, whether you agreed with him or not, the one thing that you could say about him was: you never mistook where he actually stood.

But John Stone, with so many of us, was not just a public figure. He was a husband, a father, a thinker and a man of deep personal conviction. He was actually married to his beloved wife, Nancy, for nearly 70 years. They raised five children, including Andrew Stone, who followed, as we know, in his father's footsteps into public policy, serving as an adviser to prime ministers and opposition leaders alike.

Those who knew John Stone personally speak of his charm, his wit, but—more than anything—his deep love for our great country of Australia. He ran 32 kilometres to Lake George in response to a challenge. He represented his state in hockey. He was intensely competitive, unflinchingly honest, but never ever dull. In every role he played—scholar, bureaucrat, senator, commentator—he insisted on the highest standards, and he was someone who did not tolerate laziness.

John Stone stood for ideas. He stood for integrity. But, more than that, he stood for Australia. His legacy endures in our institutions, our economic framework and the generations of policymakers he influenced. For those of us in public life his career is a challenge, but it's also a reminder that conviction does matter and that a single mind, rigorously applied, can actually shape a nation.

On behalf of the opposition, I extend our sincere condolences to John Stone's family and to all who mourn John Stone's passing. May he rest in peace, but may his example also continue to inspire.