How like reality. Take Parliament. Here we are, mired in economic stagnation, supposedly (if not actually) confronting North Korea, and with enough genuine problems to keep commentators spilling ink for years. Yet pandemonium erupts every question time. The politicians, trapped in a little bubble of their own, are seemingly spinning off into another galaxy, focussed on "winning" the daily battle to get the best headlines. This obsession leads them to ignore the crucial issue: they've become so isolated from reality that no one cares who's on top, day by day. We want answers to the big issues facing the country. It's becoming increasingly apparent that the politicians have no interest in providing them. Instead, and just like the crowd on the TV series, they're only concerned about their own little world. Until now, both main parties have adopted the attitude of the closed shop: that we should just take it as given that their politicians are able to sit. They'd be better off coming clean and demonstrating their eligibility (as Bill Shorten and Tony Abbott already have). This issue can't just be brushed off. Under section 46 of the constitution, any person, even a journalist, can sue if they believe a parliamentarian might be ineligible to hold office. There's even a substantial reward for doing so: £100 a day, which would go very nicely towards towards a pension. This is an issue that affects us all and not something that can be dealt with in the old, clubby way. It's time for the politicians to stop pretending as if they live in a world where they can be trusted to do things properly.

Yet, just when you think the old rules don't apply any more, something else happens. In part, paralysis is gripping Parliament because we're uncertain if some members and senators are eligible to sit because of citizenship issues. Even the Solicitor-General has argued there's a "compelling public interest" in these cases being heard as soon as possible. The Chief Justice has asked, however, if there was any "real practical difficulty in terms of governance" if the High Court waits until next month to hear these cases. It wasn't, apparently, a rhetorical question. It's fortunate that no one would ever entrust me with the allocation of the court's workload, because I might come up with other priorities. Of course, I can't hope to understand the issues involved and no one would expect the justices to sit in an building riddled with asbestos. And I know they've got a lot on. Nonetheless, all I can assume is that things must look very different when you're perched on top of the bench of the court rather than peering down from the press gallery in Parliament. Everyone has their own perspective.

The problem for society is the need to keep these balanced. This is, of course, why we have lawyers and parliamentarians, to ensure that the needs or desires of individuals are kept in check. In the system we inherited from Britain, both these institutions – parliament and the courts – developed to place checks on first the king and later the nobles. Society has continued to evolve, under the pressure of both technological innovation and changing mores. Our system of government, however, has remained static. Australia isn't the only parliamentary system facing dramatic turmoil. There appears to be something of a crisis afflicting the democratic world. New Zealand looks as if it might be about to ditch an experienced, if unpopular, prime minister for a just-elected opposition leader. Despite (or perhaps because of) his ludicrous tweets claiming support, Donald Trump is highly unpopular. Similarly in Britain, where most ordinary voters insist that neither of the parties are headed by plausible or likeable individuals. There is an urgent need to escape our introspective, self-examining institutions and break out, beyond the bubble, to listen to other voices, but it's difficult to see how this might happen. We remain trapped in our own Utopia. Nicholas Stuart is a Canberra author and columnist.