Brand Dick: Smith says that everywhere he goes, people agree with him about curbing Australia's population growth. Credit:Simon Alekna When I enter, having navigated the permanent construction site that is George Street, Smith is at the top of the stairs with a little greeting party. It might be the store manager and that PR rep, but I never find out because Dick doesn't like the jackhammering out the front. Too noisy to talk. "You're a journalist," he says, "you must know somewhere fancy around here." I don't, but I propose Chinatown, thinking that the photos might suit the conversation we were about to have about Smith's plan to cut Australia's immigration intake. "I love Chinese food," says Smith, and then he is off, across the street and already prattling away. I'm in his wake patting myself down for a notepad and pen because he won't slow down or stop talking. By the time we've made it to the corner of Liverpool Street he has explained that the sale of Dick Smith Electronics to Woolworths might have made him rich, but the real money came from commercial real estate. He might have sold his name and face to Woolies, but he kept the shopfronts, and then he invested the chunk of cash he had taken on the deal in properties around Sydney. This was back in 1982 when $25 million still counted as real money in Sydney.

‘‘We love living here. It’s in the bush’’: Dick Smith at home in 1995, shortly after he sold Australian Geographic. Credit:Greg White At the door of BBQ King, Smith is finally brought to a halt. A bloke in suit wants to shake his hand and thank him for his campaign to slow Australia's immigration intake. He is happy to give me a business card when I introduce myself, but he doesn't want to be named. He turns out to be a senior Western Australian public servant. The same thing happens time and again during our meal. The Anglo businessmen at the table beside us reach over to shake hands. The Chinese Australians on the table behind us are excited to meet him too. People like Smith and they want to talk to him. He is cheerful at the interruptions. "This happens all the time," he explains. It is why he walks fast, he says. Otherwise he wouldn't get anywhere. He insists that everywhere he goes people agree with him about curbing Australia's population growth. Dick Smith and wife Pip in Terrey Hills, 1987. Credit:Quentin Jones Smith's fame, stoked by canny self-promotion, is resilient. And it seems to be teflon-coated too. Though it carried his name the collapse of Dick Smith Electronics last year hardly seemed to damage his personal standing. Now Smith is gambling that he can force this multicultural nation to have a debate over immigration, and that he can bring One Nation to the conversation, all without tarnishing his reputation.

Curbing population growth Smith has been concerned about the size and growth rate of Australia's population for years, at least since he founded Australian Geographic, but it can be hard to trace the origin of his unease. Pushed on the issue, Smith explains he has a general sense that people thrive best when they have access to space and the outdoors. This is, after all, why he has never left his spread at Terrey Hills, a decision he says his rich mates, like John Singleton, tease him about. After he made his first fortune, he explains, people expected he and his wife (Pip comes up a lot) would sell up their suburban spread and move to Point Piper. "But we said, 'Oh no, we love living here. It's in the bush.' So we just did up our house. And lots of people say, 'God, you don't have much of a house.' But it's one level and it's got a nice kitchen. And so I would do that with Australia. I would just make everything better."

Smith is obviously sincere in his view that Australia would be better off if it didn't get ahead of itself; if in its nation building it did whatever the state version would be of doing up the kitchen. But it is also worth noting that when he pulled up Google Maps on the phone and showed me his place over a plate of roast duck and pork, he pointed out that he kept one of his helicopters in a garage under the kitchen and a second in "the shed". In any event Smith is enamoured of the suburban Australian idyll, and he doesn't believe that our current immigration intake of around 190,000 per year makes it possible to preserve. With a high-population growth rate, suburbs fill in, real estate prices rise and traffic congestion worsens, which is why, he says, he flies everywhere by helicopter. Traffic congestion is why Smith flies everywhere by helicopter. Here he is seen with a $7 million Italian chopper he bought at the Melbourne International Air Show. Credit:Craig Abraham On the odd occasion he does try to drive into the city, says Smith, he often cancels his meeting and turns around after he hits a couple of traffic lights. "I go home because these traffic lights, that's not human. We didn't evolve in the plains of Africa to have someone have a red light that says 'stop'." Smith's fears of high population growth in Australia (we are expected to reach 40 million by 2050, he wants it to level off at 30 million) veer towards the Mad Max end of the spectrum.

"We're creatures of nature and everything in nature lives in balance other than us. If we think we can have perpetual growth, we can't. We will either become like locusts where you breed in billions and then there is just huge starvation and the locusts eat each other," he says. "Virtually everyone will live in high-rise like termites." Man of opinions Dining with Smith is exhausting because he has opinions on everything and he speaks fast. You ask a question and a few words into his answer Smith has chased his thought down another rabbit hole. You have to remember where all the diversions were to drag him back to the topic at hand. He eats fast too and at times it seems the air between us is thick with fried rice. There are a few constants though. One is that Smith is always right. To disagree with him is to present prima facie evidence of ignorance or journalistic perfidy.

Another is the overwhelming power of Smith's ego, though, given that he has met with staggering success in all of his endeavours, this is perhaps not surprising. It means though that rather than gripe about Australia's immigration intake, he has built a campaign to shrink it. Smith plans to spend $2 million backing candidates in marginal seats who support curbing Australia's population growth. He has played footsie with One Nation over the issue, and he concedes that, at present, it looks as though One Nation candidates will benefit most from his fund. Besides, he says, his collaboration with Pauline Hanson is the only reason I wanted to have lunch with him. Fair point. He bristles at the suggestion that he risks pandering to racists, declaring there is no evidence that Hanson is a racist. "Well first of all, everyone makes mistakes and it's so easy for you and your media just to constantly say she is racist. She wants to have 70,000 immigrants. That doesn't sound racist to me." He finally concedes that Hanson might attract the support of racists, but he insists that by the time campaigning begins for the federal election, the major parties will have seen the light and will adopt his policies to take advantage of his funds.

Which begs the question, why not just run for office? "Well because politics doesn't work. I'm waiting to be called in as dictator." As a dictator, says Smith, he'd increase taxes on the wealthy, cut the immigration rate to 70,000, increase the number of refugees admitted and link foreign aid to education for women to slow population growth in neighbouring recipients. Until then he will keep on campaigning from the sidelines. After Smith heads off to do battle with the traffic, I head back to the office to write a news story about how Smith plans to campaign against ABC TV news, which he claims has deliberately ignored his population campaign. The story is picked up around the place and that afternoon it is covered by The Drum in a segment Smith declares is full of lies.

Loading The following morning he is bouncing around the lobby of the ABC with Markson and a camera in tow. Over the coming days I take half a dozen calls from Smith. He couldn't be happier with all the attention he is getting.