But a contract is only tested when things go wrong – as things in the country inevitably do. Then you see exactly why a contract is no substitute for professional responsibility, why privatisation is humbug and neo-Liberalism an outright betrayal of civilised life. “If you’re not connected you can’t compete,” said John Barilaro’s media release announcing the state government's $400 million pledge. But compete isn’t all you can’t do. Without connectivity you can’t work. You can’t socialise, shop, farm, plan, run your business, check the weather or educate your kids. You can’t get help. Sometimes you can’t survive. Loading Everyone in the city whinges about slow internet, and with reason. It’s outrageous that we’ve all been forced onto an NBN which, far from vying with tech-savvy countries like Korea, is often worse than what it replaced. It’s also bizarre that inner-city phone reception is often down to one bar.

If you think that’s bad, though, consider the country. Sure, Australia is big. It’s difficult to service. But that’s not why our connectivity is such a disgrace. The culprit is ideology. I know. A part of you thinks, duh, if you live in country NSW, obviously you’ll have crap reception. But country people are most likely to be doing something dangerous with axe or chainsaw, and they can’t just walk out to a busy street for help. So those who need connection most have it least.

Take my wee farm. By Australian standards it’s scarcely remote. We pay rates, we have a postie. My nearest neighbour, half a kilometre away, used to run the switchboard from home, back when your landline was your lifeline. But mobile? The nearest reliable reception is 50 kilometres on a winding, part-dirt road. A Telstra cable runs through our property underground, marked by special steel posts - so a landline is possible. But the saga begins around a year ago, when Telstra took weeks even to tell me it’s not the kind of landline that offers any internet access. Not ADSL, not dial-up. Nothing. Illustator: Simon Letch Credit:SMH And so to the satellite providers. My first contact with nbn.co was when they sent me a bunch of possible ISPs. I, naturally delighted, took an immediate contract. Sure, it took them two full months to hook me up, mainly because communication between SkyMesh (the provider), Skybridge (the installer) and Sky Muster (the satellite-owning part of nbn.co) was so profoundly limp. My contract was with SkyMesh - but it was nbn.co that had to send the techie, and they kept sending someone (the 150 kilometres from Canberra) without the right ladder, or dish, or mounting-post or know-how to do it. Still, eventually it worked. I could text, email and even work in my off-grid cabin. Life was possible.

Until it wasn’t. Suddenly, that black Sunday after the federal election, my internet died. It’s been dead ever since – not a flicker. Yet I’ve been patient. As I say, it’s a 50 kilometre drive back to phone reception, so every time they say “try this” or “troubleshoot that” or “are you sure the blue cable is in the red WAN port?” it’s not just me popping to the next room. There are serious implications in terms of time and money (not to mention climate change). I did it though. The trouble-shoot, the 50 kilometre drive, the half-hour call. The second trouble-shoot, much longer and more involved, the drive, the call. Every time, of course, a new person, the whole story again, the repeat questions. Them: “It looks ok from our end.”

Me: “Well from my end it’s dead. As in, dodo. So, not ok.”

Them: “Have you done a drop-out log?”

Me: “A log? There’s no drop-out. There’s no service, nothing, zilch. What’s to log?”

Them: “Have you plugged a computer directly into the modem?”

Me: “I don’t have an ethernet-capable computer.”

Them: “Well, nbn.co won’t send anyone if you haven’t tried it.”

Me: “What - I’m meant to buy a special computer to test your equipment for you?”

Them: “Sigh. We’ll send a new router. Try that.” Ten days later the new router arrives, I drive the four hours from Sydney, test it in every possible cable-to-port permutation, have more phone convos; all to no avail. That was when the “no promises” part of the conversation happened. Then I got mad. This isn’t about me. Country people have worse health and educational outcomes, and no wonder. Living remotely without connection constitutes serious risk. Government owes a duty of care, here – now more than ever, since we need to repopulate regional Australia.

Instead, we have this faux service-provision that delivers the downsides of competition – soulless greed, turgid personal contracts - without its benefits, since the powerless ISPs hang like helpless piglets from the big lazy sow of the NBN monopoly, unable to detach but equally unable to exert control. Compete, Mr Barilaro? We can’t even call you.