It seems like a very long time ago. OK, it was a very long time ago. The year was 1998 and a two-week Constitutional Convention was held in Canberra. There were 152 delegates, half of them were ‘elected’ by some dodgy postal ballot (less than 50 per cent of eligible voters bothered to send it back) and the other half were appointed. I was appointed.

I recall being quite surprised because economists are not necessarily known for their deep interest in matters constitutional. This is perhaps unfair because there are some well-known economists who have made major inroads into the analysis of constitutions, governance and democracy, including our own Professor Geoff Brennan, who recently died. It’s just that I wasn’t one of them.

I had the advantage of being then from a small state (South Australia) – so not too many potential appointees. And it just didn’t seem like the right thing to decline the invitation. Two weeks in Canberra was, per se, definitely not an attraction. But what the heck – making history and all that.

Yes, I was young and naive – am I channelling Julia Gillard, heaven forbid – so my unformed view was that, all other things being equal, it would be nice to have an Australian head of state. Now I am old and grumpy and more knowing, I wonder what I was thinking.

The issues identified for debate at the convention were: whether Australia should become a republic; which republic model should be put to the electorate to consider against the status quo; and in what time-frame and under what circumstances might any change be considered.

Apart from a small group of stalwart monarchists, the vast majority of delegates were in favour of Australia becoming a republic. Where the divisions set in – and believe me they were deep and antagonistic – was the model for the republic. Essentially, they split into two groups: one supported an appointed head of government and the other supported a popularly elected head. Shane Warne for president, anyone? (Actually, he would have been great – or not.)

To be sure, there were sub-groups within these groups and anyone who regarded themselves as an expert, most notably the constitutional lawyers, thought their views should count for a lot more than those of the other delegates. I remember attending one session where various pompous lawyers were discussing what appeared to be a very minor issue but all the time citing ancient legal cases. The temperature in the room noticeably rose as speaking turned to shouting and faces turned to bright crimson.

The two key issues were: how we should arrive at a head of state – probably to be called the President – and what should be the powers of that person. To say that both were contentious is to understate the point.

The minimalist model involved a simple extension of the current arrangements in respect of the appointment of the governor-general. In other words, it would be the gift of the prime minister after consulting with various groups, including the opposition. There were variations on this model that involved appointment on the basis of a majority – perhaps two-thirds – of all sitting federal parliamentarians. Former Victorian Governor, Richard McGarvie, was one of the leading advocates for this approach.

For many direct election republic supporters, the minimalist model or some slight variation thereof was worse than no republic – that is, the status quo. Indeed, some of the most ardent members of this group ended up abstaining in the final vote – Clem Jones and Ted Mack come to mind as being in this group.

Needless to say, the ghost of Whitlam’s dismissal loomed large in much of the discussion at what became an increasingly tedious fortnight – round and round in circles pretty much summed it. Under what circumstances could the president dismiss an elected prime minister/government?  What would happen in the event of the Senate blocking supply as had happened in 1975?

Unsurprisingly, the disparate group of delegates could not agree on answers to these important questions. As a novice in this area, I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that it was extremely unlikely that the wise and knowing members of the public would ever sign up for this change in the context of such deep divisions among the supporters of Australia becoming a republic. Unless the details could be sorted, it would be a pass from them. (Does this remind you of anything?)

I also remember thinking at the time that two weeks was an excessive timeframe for such a talkfest. I sensibly took an early mark and hot-footed it back home, having handed over my vote to a proxy – David Flint, as I recall.

In the end, the vote was ridiculously tight, with 73 voting for the minimalist/appointed president model, 57 against and 22 abstained. It was not the outcome that Malcolm Turnbull as head of the Australian Republic Movement – I still recall him strutting around Parliament House during the convention as if he owned the joint – was seeking. Some of the most ardent elected president republicans actually abstained because they thought that any referendum based on an appointed president would fail – and they were right.

Like a marathon runner finding it hard to reach the finish, I stupidly agreed to be part of some group called Conservatives for a Republic. Andrew Robb and Amanda Vanstone were part of the small clutch.

There was an event organised at the Adelaide Town Hall to promote our cause. I was astounded by the large crowd in the main hall and its surprising demographics – plenty of grey hair. But when a presentation commenced about the joys of cruising the world, I realised I was in the wrong spot. Our function was in a small anteroom out the back – which pretty much said it all.

Of course, when the referendum was put to the people, as then prime minister John Howard had promised, it was soundly defeated. It was a classic case of the elites just not getting it. They had never met anyone who didn’t support Australia becoming a republic. In their minds, it was simply not possible for the vote to go down. There are strong parallels with current events.