According to my brother-in-law who arrived from Greece a couple of years ago, our nation has an unhealthy fixation with uniforms.

I remember him pointing to the uniformed men seated behind the wheel of their taxis queued in an orderly manner outside Tullamarine’s International terminus and suggesting that Australia must be the only country in the world that dresses its taxi drivers in uniforms.

I suggest that the English cabbies probably wear uniforms – or at least did – to which he suggested that this is not surprising given that Australia continues to take its cultural cues from the British.

Okay, our taxi drivers are uniformly dressed, as with most of our school children. Indeed our bus drivers, flight attendants, parking inspectors, posties, ambos, pharmacists, waiters, council workers and the ladies behind the make-up counter at David Jones wear their corporate colours with some semblance of loyalty.

Surely this is a mark of order and civility, something that many Greeks back home would struggle to come to grips with.

Uniforms are indeed part of Australia’s cultural fabric. And although it is a little odd for a culture that sees itself as laid back to be embracing uniforms, it should not be taken to mean that Australian’s have penchant for formality.

If anything, the predominance of uniforms reflects a casual attitude towards corporate diversity.

The difference between Australian society and a class-conscious society is that Australians do not wear uniforms to assert authority or social standing.

They simply wear them because the organisation that employs them requires it. Uniforms represent nothing more than corporate identity.

Australians are particularly accustomed to the company costume. After all, fast food franchises fasten their corporate colours to our youth the moment they’re old enough to work.

Many sixteen year olds seem to spend more time serving behind the counter of a fast food outlet than they do studying behind their school desk.

And they are more likely to be out of their school uniform and into their Hungry Jack’s, K-Mart or IGA costume the moment they step out of the school gates.

Some kids even wear their work gear with greater pride than their school uniform. For me, trying to get a school-boy to wear their school uniform correctly these days is like trying to dress a drunk.

Junior managers on the other hand have no such problem. A uniformed junior corporate commander has a far greater chance in getting their underlings to tuck in their shirts and pull up their strides than many teachers.

The corporate uniform is part of our social weave, reflecting a diverse tapestry of vocational responsibilities and duties. There are wide ranging jobs and vocations that people can access in Australia.

Some stay at a job (and in their uniforms) for years while others leave as soon as they arrive for something better.

It is not uncommon for a teenager to exchange their MacDonald’s uniform for a Hungry Jacks Uniform without any regard for their employer.

This is how it is in a society that places self-interest ahead of company loyalty. And there is nothing wrong with this provided that one slip in and out of employment (and one’s uniform) in accordance with labour protocols and laws.

As we know, not all Australians are cut from the same cloth. There are, for instance many vocations that do not require uniforms. And it is those who do not wear a uniform that reveals more about the who we are.

I would, for instance, be far more concerned if teachers where required to wear a state mandated uniform.  Uniformed teachers would render the school setting and experience into something resembling a detention centre.

It would be even more disturbing if our political leaders wore uniforms – especially if our uniformed leaders used their authority to impose a dress code on the entire population.

A nation with a leader dressed in a khaki uniform or, worse still, religious garb is far more alarming than a taxi driver in company garb or school aged child in fast food franchise frill.

History has, after all, shown how a uniform worn by a state figure takes on menacing tone when it involves a shirt of brown or black hue.

The difference between an orderly and civil society like Australia and a dictatorship is that the former does not have political leaders in uniforms or religious garb dictating how citizens should dress, think, and behave.

Unlike people living under an autocratic regime, Australians are free to slip out of their uniforms and into anything that takes their fancy the moment they clock off from work.

This is very different to regimes that have uniformed leaders calling for those who refuse to dress and behave in accordance with state mandated moral codes to be imprisoned or indeed stoned to death.

Chris Fotinopoulos is a Melbourne based writer who has taught ethics and philosophy at the university of Melbourne and Monash.