As the lock-out law debate heats up in NSW, the usually straight-talking premier Mike Baird is having a tough time explaining why casinos are getting special treatment. But we all know why they are, don't we. Michael Bradley writes.

Rove: "Why are places like Barangaroo and The Star allowed to be open 24/7?" Sam: "Cos they got the dollars!" Mike Baird: "No, they, I mean there's, there, there, there are different issues there, I mean they're, they're given licences across a range of parameters, but there's a number of controls that come with those specific licences, but..." Rove: "Such as?" Baird: "Um, well I mean, security requirements, I mean, there is all types of things that come into a casino licence..."

When you're being taken down by Sam and Rove, the Sydney breakfast radio team of a former Bachelorette and a stand-up comic, you know you've got a credibility problem.

For NSW Premier Mike Baird, the Mr Clean, Straight and Nice of Australian politics, it's a damaging development. For his cleanskin counterparts like Victorian Premier Daniel Andrews, it's an object lesson.

The background is Sydney's restrictive "lock-out" laws, introduced in 2014 following a public campaign demanding a response to escalating late-night violence in the CBD and Kings Cross, which had culminated in the deaths of two young men from unprovoked "one-punch" attacks.

As well as controversial mandatory sentencing for such assaults, the NSW Government brought in laws covering the entire "Sydney CBD Entertainment Precinct" which ban takeaway alcohol sales from 10pm, lock out patrons from entering venues after 1.30am, and enforce last drinks at 3am.

This was a radical move, in political terms. The hotels, clubs and liquor industry lobby historically wields big power and has been very good at protecting its own interests; Exhibit A is the successful campaign to fight off poker machine reforms. So it was a brave move to bring in these laws which were guaranteed to substantially reduce the money being spent by inner-city drinkers.

Speaking of pokies, though, there was a stark omission from what would have seemed the obvious boundaries of the CBD Entertainment Precinct. Barangaroo was carved out.

On the map, it looks as natural a geographic border as the Gaza Strip:

A map showing the proposed new Sydney CBD precinct affected by measures to tackle alcohol-related violence January 21st 2014. ( NSW Government )

This passed without very much comment at the time, because Barangaroo was still a building site. Now it's being populated by commercial and residential towers, which we're told will accommodate 24,000 residents and workers, and host 33,000 visitors a day. I'm pretty sure they'll be looking for a drink, and might occasionally want to punch each other, as Sydneysiders seem to do.

Of course, we all knew why this enclave was so neatly ruled out - it's because there's going to be a casino in Barangaroo - but we let it pass with the usual weary Sydney cynicism.

However, the geographical anomaly has grown into a glaring emblem of political hypocrisy, because the tide of popular opinion has somewhat turned.

The lock-out laws continue to enjoy strong public support, and doctors are urging that they are not just maintained but also extended to other areas because they are saving lives. But there is a growing backlash, driven by a combination of high-profile venue closures (particularly in Kings Cross, which is a radically quieter place now) and the emergence of a noisy anti-nanny state movement.

There's a lot of self-interest in this, certainly from the liquor industry, but also genuine concern among many citizens and the live music industry that Sydney's vibrant night life is being killed off by an over-reaction to alcohol-fuelled violence. It's a legitimate issue, deserving serious debate.

Mike Baird's response has been to establish a review of the laws, to be conducted by retired High Court judge Ian Callinan AC QC. Baird is saying that the review's outcome is not being prejudged, and that everything is on the table.

Mike Baird habitually tries to be honest in his responses. He is being caught short now, because he isn't being upfront. ( AAP: Nikki Short )

If Baird wanted to maintain his image of fair-minded impartiality, then he might have considered appointing someone other than a 78-year-old conservative former judge from Queensland. That's not to say that Callinan won't do an excellent job but, in politics, perception trumps reality.

The bigger problem for Baird is the casino, or rather casinos. The Star Casino is just across Darling Harbour in Pyrmont. It was never included in the lockout laws, on a more defensible basis geographically, but it was always open to suspicion because The Star in fact has a long and not very proud history of violence.

According to the NSW Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research data, in the two years to last September alcohol-related assaults in Kings Cross have dropped by 34 per cent; in Pyrmont, they have gone up by 30 per cent. The statistics indicate that The Star gets about 75 assaults per year, which is three times more than CBD bar The Ivy, which the Government named the most violent venue in NSW in 2014.

The simple point is this: it's patently obvious to everyone that the casinos, existing and yet to be built, are being protected from the lockout laws and that there is no good law enforcement or public protection reason for their exemption.

And we all know why. The NSW Government receives hundreds of millions of dollars in tax revenue from The Star, and will reap a further bonanza when Jamie Packer's Barangaroo casino opens.

It may be business as usual, in the eternally soiled playground of politics. The NSW Government weighed up its competing imperatives - revenue and votes (and, we like to think, to some extent at least the public good) - and reached the kind of pragmatic compromise which state governments do all the time and which we mostly tolerate with a worldly sigh.

Baird promised to be a different kind of politician from the shop-worn norm, and his popularity with the electorate has reflected that reputation. The conflicting interests that the business of governing throw up were inevitably going to challenge his ability to remain a cleanskin, and he now finds himself in a bind.

Arguably, Baird is falling into the business-as-usual trap. As his stumbling response to Sam and Rove demonstrates, he is dissembling - and he's not very good at it. Politicians specialise in answering the question they weren't asked; Baird, who is an investment banker by vocation, habitually tries to be direct and honest in his responses. He is being caught short now, because he isn't being upfront.

It doesn't have to be this way. He could level with us. We do understand what's going on here; we do get why the Government wants to protect its casino revenues. There are big political risks in being truthful on this score, certainly, but the alternative is that the voters will tune out, having concluded that Baird is just another politician. And then what is he but (to adopt Tony Abbott's daughter's epic description) just a churchy loser?

Michael Bradley is the managing partner of Sydney law firm Marque Lawyers, and he writes a weekly column for The Drum. He tweets at @marquelawyers.