By Andrew Klein 

In the vast and often absurd lexicon of bureaucratic jargon, few terms are as perfectly evocative as the “self-licking ice cream cone.” Coined in organizational theory, it describes a system or process that exists primarily to sustain its own existence. It creates work, consumes resources, and generates a flurry of activity, not to achieve an external goal, but simply to justify its own continued operation. The outcome is irrelevant; the performance of effort is everything.

If you were to search for a modern, real-world example of this phenomenon, you need look no further than the current Australian Labor government under Anthony Albanese. Upon close inspection, it becomes difficult to find a major policy area that does not conform perfectly to this model of glorious, pointless circularity.

The Anatomy of a Self-Licking Cone

A true self-licking ice cream cone has three key ingredients:

1. An Illusion of Purpose: It must appear to be addressing a serious problem.

2. A Focus on Process Over Outcome: The primary energy is spent on consultations, announcements, frameworks, and reviews, not on tangible results.

3. A Self-Sustaining Loop: The activity generated by the process itself becomes the reason for the process to continue.

The ALP’s Flavourful Menu of Cones

1. The Voice Referendum Cone

· The Cone: The profound and legitimate need for First Nations justice and recognition.

· The Licking: A year-long, multi-million dollar process of parliamentary committees, public campaigning, and political theatre, structured in a way that ensured its own failure. The goal became not to achieve a successful outcome, but to be seen to have tried, creating a vortex of activity that ultimately led back to the status quo. The cone licked itself, and then melted away, leaving nothing but a sticky mess.

2. The Climate & Energy Policy Cone

· The Cone: The urgent need to reduce emissions and lower power prices.

· The Licking: A complex web of subsidies, “Capacity Investment Schemes,” and rewiring nation announcements that have managed to coincide with rising emissions and soaring energy bills. The bureaucracy of climate action—the reports, the modeling, the consultations with fossil fuel interests—has become a self-justifying industry. The activity is the outcome.

3. The Housing Affordability Cone

· The Cone: A generation being locked out of home ownership and a rental crisis.

· The Licking: Housing summits, the “Help to Buy” scheme (helping a tiny few while inflating prices for the many), and the $10 billion Housing Australia Future Fund, which promises a trickle of funds years down the track. The government actively avoids the fundamental drivers of the crisis (negative gearing, capital gains tax discounts), instead creating new committees to manage the inadequate programs they have launched. It is a masterclass in creating motion without movement.

4. The AUKUS Submarine Cone

· The Cone: National security in a contested region.

· The Licking: Committing hundreds of billions of dollars on a timeline stretching to the 2050s, creating a bonanza for defence contractors, consultants, and a permanent class of commentators. It is the ultimate self-licking cone: a project so vast, expensive, and long-term that its primary function is to generate a perpetual cycle of spending, planning, and strategic posturing, with the actual security payoff decades away.

Conclusion: From Cones to Cathedrals

The tragedy of the self-licking ice cream cone is that it consumes the energy, talent, and resources that could be used to build something lasting. It is a system that has forgotten how to build cathedrals, and instead spends its days admiring the intricate swirls of its own dessert.

While the government performs its intricate, self-serving rituals, Australians are left with the real-world consequences: a wife worked to exhaustion for a corrupt contractor, families choosing between food and power, and young people giving up on the dream of a home.

But as the cones melt under the heat of their own inefficiency, a quiet rebellion is growing. It is found in the backyards where people are growing their own food, in the community networks bypassing broken systems, and in the plans for sanctuaries like a simple bookshop—places designed for genuine connection and tangible good, not for performance.

The ultimate failure of the self-licking ice cream cone is that it believes its own activity is a sign of health. It doesn’t realize that while it’s busy licking, the rest of the world is moving on, building something real, and finally, learning to laugh at the sheer, ridiculous spectacle of it all.