2028 is the first novel by Australian author, Ken Saunders. It’s early 2028 and Coalition Prime Minister Adrian Fitzsimmons feels the time is right to call an election. His main opposition, the Labour Party is in disarray and the Greens are non-players, being in receivership, so the PM feels confident of an easy win to take him into a fourth term.

But then the ASIO chief turns up with some disturbing news: two demonstrations are scheduled to happen at Parliament House exactly when the PM plans to announce the election. Members of the Luddite Party will gather nude.

Almost ten years ago, two thousand eight hundred and eighty-seven Australian citizens changed their names by deed poll to Ned Ludd, and formed a political party. Careful surveillance has revealed that, apart from an annual movie night, they have since not registered a single blip on the political radar. Until now.

Saunders takes Australia as we now know it and progresses things just a few steps further, thus keeping it wholly believable: Australia Post no longer delivers letters (they barely do now, so that’s hardly a stretch) while their parcel drones multi-task; today’s beleaguered GPs are gone, replaced by automation; political parties have gone corporate in a big way; and reality TV has conquered the final frontier, outer space.

As he lets loose his fertile imagination on things as diverse as parking meters, radio shock jocks, TV news reporting, opinion pollsters and their focus groups, driverless cards, tax reform, special days and their associated ribbons, and the naming of Government Ministries, the comparison to Douglas Adams indeed appears valid.

The plot is definitely not too far-fetched, and the humour is relentless. Saunders has the Labour leader kicking AFL goals for their campaign; the Luddites’ clever tactics see the major parties groaning in dismay at favourable polls; a gasped “We're Luddites...and we're together!” constitutes sex talk; and you may never look at your local Asian run nail salon the same way again.

This is a book best NOT read in the quiet carriage on public transport, as the chortles, guffaws and rolling-on-the-floor-laughing that is guaranteed to occur may disturb other travellers. In particular, prime numbers, celery and the PM on the bus will elicit this response.

Saunders has a politician opining on former PMs who: “cease to contribute meaningfully, content to write self-indulgent memoirs and the occasional smug know-it-all opinion pieces for Fairfax or News Corp.” He could have added “or sit on the backbench spitefully undermining the current leader and destabilising the party.”

His Luddites see “…the major flaw of our current system is that one party has the role of generating all the ideas to govern and the other party has the responsibility of barking and frothing at them like a pack of rabid dogs. We need an entirely different approach. Everyone in parliament should be there to govern. Everyone should be there to listen to each other in order to decide matters.” If Saunders’s tale is at all prescient then a Vote 1 Ned Ludd campaign would doubtless result in a landslide victory.

This is a brilliant debut novel: insightful, topical and utterly hilarious and, no matter what their political leanings, all Australians of or near voting age should read this.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by Allen & Unwin.