Of all the issues you could have picked up post-politics, why The Torch?

When I was elevated to the ministry in the Victorian Parliament in 1980, one of my responsibilities was minister for Aboriginal Affairs. It was my first real introduction to Indigenous lives. I learnt a great deal in that short time before we lost the election in 1982. I’ve always had a sort of walnut in my gut that we non-Indigenous people have not understood well enough our First Peoples’ culture. That’s led to introducing a lot of programs based on our understanding of culture and trying to impose it on others. The Torch works differently and is having a huge impact on recidivism rates of Indigenous people in Victorian prisons. When some non-Indigenous Australians confront Indigenous issues, they often say, “Well, I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I did nothing wrong.”

I understand that. We can’t be held responsible for what happened more than 200 years ago, but we certainly can be responsible for what’s happening today. We are the most fortunate of nations to have had a community of people here well before we arrived – the first persons on earth, if not very close. We don’t generally recognise them as the greatest asset of this country, and they are. We have never properly recognised the strength of their culture. It’s a guilt we’re not doing enough today in a positive way. MONEY Did you come from a wealthy background?

No. We were very much in that lower-middle economic bracket. My mother had to go back to university to earn a degree as a librarian so she could go back to work and help finance my education and my sisters’ education. You attended Melbourne’s Scotch College towards the end of high school. How did your parents afford it?

Well, they worked and paid for it. Their contributions to my life and my two sisters were very good examples of behaviour to each other and their community. They taught us by example, rather than instruction, and decided the best opportunities we’d have in life were through education.

You left an economics degree at the Australian National University after one year. Did Victorians have reason to fear a premier who didn’t necessarily achieve highly in economics?

I was doing economics which required, in those days, a statistics qualification I didn’t have. I failed all of my economics subjects. They invited me to repeat, I said no, and joined the workforce. I established my own business. My education was in the workforce. Say it’s your last day on earth, you’re down to your last 100 bucks. What do you spend it on?

Whiskey. Single malt. I’m tossing up between a West Australian Limeburners, Starward from Victoria or any one of the many good single malts from Tasmania. But for $100, you’d only be buying a third of a bottle. DEATH Have you had any near-death experiences?

On Australia Day, 1976 – the year I was elected to parliament – I was involved in a car accident where I thought I would lose my life. I was driving down Wells Road to Frankston to go yachting, I was speeding, and a truck came out from my left on my side of the road. I quickly analysed whether I could get around, but there was a car coming towards me, so I decided to drive straight into the truck. I knocked myself out. When I came to, Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture was playing on the tape deck and the cannons were firing. That probably sent me a message: “Enjoy every day of your life.” Was losing government something you grieved over?

I didn’t grieve over losing the state election in 1999. You’ve got to understand that by then, I’d become fairly experienced in losing: I had lost two elections when I was opposition leader. And after losing my first election in 1985, I went home, went to bed and in the morning found myself in the foetal position.