Illustration: Andrew Dyson Remember Scott Ludlam? How he went quickly and quietly, followed in a similar fashion by Larissa Waters? And remember how everyone laughed so derisively at the Greens because they were a hopeless ramshackle operation that couldn't do basic paperwork? Let's pause on that moment, because it could so easily have been so different. We now know that some very senior people in some very major parties must have seen their own reflections when they looked at Ludlam and Waters.

Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull began this saga by wheeling out Barnaby Joyce to mock the Greens. Credit:Alex Ellinghausen They did not suddenly discover that their parents or grandparents were born overseas. They knew this. It was at this moment they had a choice. They could have recognised the unfortunate circumstances of their parliamentary colleagues – and especially the non-substantive nature of their disqualifications. Why would Bill Shorten straight up refuse Malcolm Turnbull's invitation to refer all MPs from either party to the High Court in a non-partisan way? Credit:AAP They could have solemnly acknowledged that the constitution must be upheld, but also refused as a matter of principle, to delight in its workings.

They could have shown some restraint, resisted the orgiastic gloating of an opponent's misfortune, and demonstrated to the electorate that political bloodsport is reserved for the things that really matter – that they'll only fight each other when they're really fighting for us. Tony Abbott: his style of opposition ultimately led him to inherit a paralysed government unable to make budget cuts or raise any taxes. Credit:Nick Moir How might that have looked? Possibly the acceptance of the need for some kind of audit early on. Certainly, a unanimous preparedness to refer cases to the High Court as they came up and without fuss. Instead, we've got the clearest demonstration we could of a political class with no restraint, no ability to hold fire for the things that really matter, no perspective, and in the end not even a functional sense of self-preservation. Illustration: Simon Letch

What, for instance, was Labor thinking over these past few months as it repeatedly insisted its systems were robust, and that we should take its word that it was above this citizenship palaver? Why would Bill Shorten straight up refuse Malcolm Turnbull's invitation to refer all MPs from either party to the High Court in a non-partisan way? There are only political answers to these questions: specifically, that Shorten thought it the best way to apply the screws to Turnbull, emphasising relentlessly that this was a problem for the Coalition, but not Labor. What, now that David Feeney and Katy Gallagher (at least) have revealed this not to be an act of confidence, but instead of monstrous arrogance? Labor's conduct has been thoroughly risible here. Unfortunately, it merely echoes the Coalition in this, which began this saga by wheeling out Barnaby Joyce to mock the Greens and guarantee he was not a dual citizen himself. Since then it has occupied every position on how dual citizens should be handled, from demanding their swift excommunication, to shifting them to the back bench, to thinking it entirely appropriate for them to stay in cabinet.

Turnbull's now infamous declaration that the High Court would find Joyce eligible to remain in parliament is similar to Shorten's approach: obviously unprincipled, needlessly aggressive, and startlingly naive. It can only be that politics no longer knows any other way of being. The short-term gameplaying we're watching is so ruthless that parties have begun scalping themselves. It's the same problem that, in a much more comprehensive way, crippled Tony Abbott. His style of opposition, his determination to unleash a populist attack daily ultimately led him to inherit a paralysed government unable to make budget cuts or raise any taxes, yet still bidden to erase the deficit. What destroyed Abbott as Prime Minister was not his government, but the way he seized it; his accumulated short-term rhetorical victories, which ultimately collapsed upon him.

Labor now faces an analogous problem. It was very clearly hoping dual citizenship would eventually claim a Coalition member in a properly vulnerable seat: that eventually the Coalition would lose a by-election or two, and with it, its parliamentary majority. In brief, that Labor might either force a snap election, or luck its way into government by increments. But at no point does anyone seem to have asked whether that would be much of a way to take power; whether we should be content watching a government brought down by an issue that has almost nothing to do with policy or even the way it governs, but rather the combined quirks of foreign citizenship laws and our own constitution. Indeed, merely asking that would seem quaint. Now look what this approach has yielded for Labor: a possible by-election against the Greens – perhaps the only party to have been enhanced by its handling of citizenship – in a seat the Greens would be confident of winning given the recent result in the state seat of Northcote. Diminished standing and trust on this, and by extension, other issues. And a freshly militarised political arena that promises only to delegitimise whoever claims power soon enough after they've claimed it.

Loading Everything that led to this must have seemed a good idea at the time. But now it seems Labor is gagging on its own gloating reflex. Waleed Aly is a Fairfax columnist and a presenter on The Project.