The Abbott effect imposes an average penalty of 3 per cent across state seats held by the junior coalition partner, the Nationals, and 7 per cent across Liberal seats, according to well placed sources. Illustration: Rocco Fazzari "You don't want anyone getting in Mike's way. It'd be cleaner and simpler if everybody in the Abbott government just shut up for the next four weeks." But of those four weeks, three are parliamentary sitting weeks. Noise is guaranteed. Abbott, apparently chastened after the spill motion moved against him three weeks ago, promised that "good government starts today." But as one Fairfax reader wryly observed, the transition from bad government to good government has been so seamless that it's been invisible. The Abbott government has flagellated itself almost continuously since the spill, as it did with such great dedication before the spill. Abbott told Karl Stefanovic this week: "You know what it's like to be young and vigorous and at the height of your powers. That is exactly how I feel." And that is exactly what Abbott's party fears – Abbott at the height of his powers. "We wish Abbott would just stop picking fights" said a senior Liberal. "Stop the fights. Stop the shouting." For example. After the unprecedented speed of Abbott's prime ministerial implosion, he didn't hold himself to account but punished his loyal chief whip, Phillip Ruddock, instead. For example. Abbott bungled afresh the $50 billion acquisition of Australia's next generation of submarines, unpressured by the opposition. Probity as well as competence was called into question.

For example. Abbott publicly called on Indonesia's president to pardon the lives of Chan and Sukumaran by linking the matter to Australian aid to Indonesia after the 2004 tsunami, provoking a backlash among Indonesians. For example. Abbott gave a speech on national security in which he disparaged Australia's moderate Muslim leaders. This infuriated the very people whose help the country most needs to manage the risk of radicalisation of young people. For example. Abbott and his Attorney-General, George Brandis, plunged the government into a frenzied political attack on the Human Rights Commissioner for reporting on refugee children in detention. They would have done better to address the situation of the children themselves. They might even have pointed out that this government has been solving the problem, not worsening it. For example. The federal treasurer of the Liberal Party, Phil Higginson, signalled his intention to resign because, he said, he had been unable to get essential information about party funds from the federal director, Brian Loughnane. And, in an incendiary email to the party executive committee, Higginson wrote that the fact of Loughnane's marriage to Peta Credlin, Abbott's chief of staff, created a conflict of interest that meant the parliamentary arm of the party couldn't properly hold to account the organisational arm, and vice versa. It was, he wrote "the most serious current dilemma" confronting the party. A consequence was "wooden and unreliable communication" between the two arms of the party, and "dare I say it, retribution" for those who opposed the status quo. Higginson posed: "When, as a party overall, are we going to grow the necessary knowledge of good governance practice and develop the necessary courage to tackle this serious problem?" Knowing that this was a terribly sore point among the members of his government, Abbott took to the airwaves to declare that "there is no problem". This only further antagonised the many MPs and ministers who have complained bitterly of the rigid dominance of the iron triangle of Abbott-Credlin-Loughnane. All this in just three weeks. So NSW Liberals are in a state of growing apprehension about what Abbott's powers might deliver in the next four. The obvious solution is to remove Abbott next Tuesday, when the Liberal party caucus meets in Canberra, no?

It's not so simple. A Liberal adviser points out that replacing the leader, even if it were done quickly and cleanly, would still create two weeks of federal "noise", drowning out the Baird factor. And it would not necessarily solve some of the underlying problems. The federal neuralgia is not Abbott alone but a complex of overlapping failures. The government lacks proper consultation processes. It lacks a story of its purpose and policy, a so-called narrative. It is preoccupied with finding ideological solutions to problems which are not evident to anyone outside the ideological right. It has a strong second-tier of junior ministers and a very uneven top tier. So it's not just enough to put a new face on top of the old problems. An incoming leader would need to deal with the underlying problems. But, as a Turnbull advocate points out, at the moment the NSW Liberals have the worst of both worlds – they have a noisy federal parliament sitting all the way up to the State election, plus an unpopular prime minister. Removing Abbott would not be a complete solution but it would at least solve one part of the problem. Annabel Crabb once wrote that, when John Howard's Cabinet ministers were trying to figure out a way to remove him from the leadership in his last year in power, it was like "watching a pack of seven-year-old girls going at a brown snake." The state of play today is reminiscent. The bulk of the Liberal caucus lost faith in Abbott's ability to win re-election weeks before the spill motion.

But there is confusion, fear and paralysis over what to do about him. The spontaneous backbench revolt three weeks ago showed that Abbott is unacceptable to most of the rank and file of the parliamentary party. But the great bulk of Abbott's ministers defended him, protecting him from his own backbench. At that moment, most Liberal backbenchers said, in effect, we have done what we can. The problem is now for the leadership, the senior ministers, the so-called "generals" rather than the mutineering "privates" to sort out. The situation now? Many ministers who defended Abbott last time have lost any faith in him. None has a credible scenario for how Abbott can recover. Yet while they are jabbering incessantly to each other in private, they have not agreed on what to do about it. The Abbott prime ministership is a hollow structure that will collapse under pressure; there is no agreed plan to apply pressure. Frustrated backbenchers and junior ministers, even some senior ministers, are looking to the leadership candidates to act, and to act as soon as next week. They look to Malcolm Turnbull, Julie Bishop and Scott Morrison to galvanise action.

Senior ministers are now lobbying Turnbull to declare himself a candidate and bring on a challenge. "He needs to show something called leadership," says a frustrated NSW MP. But Turnbull sees the leadership coming inexorably to him. He is not ready to bloody his hands by seizing it. Julie Bishop is keeping all her options open, and that means not taking the initiative but watching and waiting. And Scott Morrison lacks enough votes for the leadership to want to risk being seen to be a wrecker in the meantime. The deep ranks of the disillusioned Liberals fear that Abbott might not only cost the party the election in NSW but, worse, be allowed to stay on to preside over the May budget. They do not trust him to deal with the problem of debt and deficit. They fear a populist budget from a prime minister determined to hold power by putting "money into the pockets of families". And, if so, that would be two budgets out of three where the Coalition had failed its fundamental mandate of getting Australia to live within its means. But, as Howard showed, if no one will strike him, a leader can remain in his post until it's too late. Peter Hartcher is the political editor