HE drives the prime minister nuts. Anyone can see that. And Anthony Albanese isn’t alone. The entire Labor caucus seems to loathe Max Chandler-Mather, as do most members of the Liberal-National opposition. When the first-term Greens MP rises to address the House of Representatives, jeering erupts on both sides of the chamber.
After entering parliament two years ago, Chandler-Mather turned down an invitation to join the Qantas Chairman’s Lounge, where MPs waiting for flights can schmooze with corporate bosses and other big wheels in a club-like atmosphere. He travels economy on his commutes between Brisbane and Canberra, forgoing the opportunity to sit up the front of the plane at taxpayers’ expense. He makes clear this doesn’t feel like a hardship. “I’ve never flown business class in my life.
During the months-long stand-off between Labor and the Greens, the heckling of Chandler-Mather in the lower house intensified. When he had the floor, there were shouts of “Grow up!” and “Sit down, you moron!” The prime minister. A government frontbencher made a comment about his mother. Chandler-Mather – who won’t name the minister – only half-heard the jibe but got the gist. “I don’t think it was specifically targeted at my mum,” he says. “They don’t even know who she is.
When the subject of housing comes up, the young man agrees rents are insanely high. He’s leasing a room in this house because he can’t afford to rent a place of his own. As the discussion continues, I can tell he’s chuffed that Chandler-Mather has taken an interest in his circumstances. “Thank you heaps!” he calls after us as we leave. “You guys have got my vote.”
The Queensland wunderkind is now an inspiration to Greens nationally. “There’s enormous respect in the party room,” says Adam Bandt. For Elizabeth Watson-Brown, who had a stellar career as an architect before running for the Greens, watching Chandler-Mather in action has been an education. Politics isn’t just his job, she says. “It’s him. It’s in his DNA. It’s the way he thinks and the way he operates. He’s a political animal.
‘Renters can’t plan for the future. They’re constantly humiliated and treated like second-class citizens.’ On a Tuesday morning at Mayfield State School in the Brisbane suburb of Carina, small children in maroon uniforms are considering their options. Chandler-Mather is offering them two kinds of breakfast wraps. They can have a simple filling – just melted cheese and mild tomato salsa. “Or you can have cheese, salsa, spinach and egg, my personal favourite,” he says, doing a little dance to indicate his enthusiasm for the fancier choice. The kids regard him steadily.