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In the embassies, bright young things met with “interlocutors” and wrote thoughtful cables back to their “country desks” in Canberra. They made “representations” to their local counterparts and they organised functions for visiting dignitaries, all of it the bread and butter of international diplomacy but perhaps not ideal training for someone plunging into the cruel realities of big-time politics.
By this time, the late 1990s, Rudd had unsheathed his public ambitions and won the seat of Griffith. Even then, I couldn’t believe his DFAT-honed approach would carry him past a certain point, despite his single-mindedness and his unshakeable belief in himself.
I was as surprised as anyone when Rudd won the prime ministership in November 2007.
The one thing that didn’t surprise me though, when it came out, was the story of a drunken Rudd at the New York strip club. One thing I’d learnt in embassies, was be careful when you went out drinking with the young DFAT diplomats. They were normally so buttoned up and controlled that when they let go, anything could happen.

See the full article from “Courier Mail”