By ABC's Annabel Crabb  4 February 2015

Photo: Political life is full of options, and Tony Abbott would be weighing up his. (AAP: Mick Tsikas)

Life's full of decisions, and the one mercy enjoyed by Tony Abbott during this present leadership romp is he can actually see for himself how some of his options might play out, writes Annabel Crabb.

Political life is full of decisions. Big ones, small ones, each weighted with varying degrees of existential peril and the thrilling, evanescent prospect of triumph.

Some decisions ("I wonder what would happen if I gave a knighthood to Prince Philip?") turn out - when they edge shyly into public view - to earn such a scalding and immediate public reception that you can't believe anyone could have been so bonkers.

Some ("I'm a first-term prime minister who's lost seven ministers to travel scandals and am seriously on the ropes. Perhaps I will now call an election and campaign on introducing a GST, which I recently promised never to do") sound like utter madness at the time and yet somehow pan out OK.

The quicksilver difference between "so crazy" and "so crazy that it just might work" is the space where genuine political skill lies.

You can't fake this sort of thing, but the main reason politicians are addicted to polling is that it gives them the closest possible alternative, granting a maddening half-glimpse of how people might respond to a decision, before that decision has actually been made. In a world where one false move can often prove fatal, you can see why even a fuzzy pair of night-vision goggles might seem attractive.

The one mercy enjoyed by Prime Minister Tony Abbott during this present Choose Your Own Adventure romp is that - thanks to the hyper-speed of modern politics and a rich field of state-level misadventure - he can actually see for himself how some of his options might play out.

For instance, the great state of Queensland has just given us a rather graphic demonstration of what happens when an unpopular first-term leader springs a series of surprises on voters while asking them to wear some fairly serious austerity measures.

That is what the "Business As Usual" option offers, as Campbell Newman would no doubt explain to Mr Abbott at any time that suits the PM, Mr Newman's diary having suddenly cleared.

And the grim consequences of the "business as usual" option are exactly what is powering the high-level bout of executive incontinence we are this week witnessing in the Government.

Back To Work Tuesday was yesterday. The Cabinet is supposed to be locked up in its second day of strategy meetings today. But one minister has been on television this morning talking about how Julie Bishop feels. Another, on 7.30 last night, helpfully observed that all this undermining and infighting really reminds him of the Rudd/Gillard years. And Mr Abbott himself popped out this morning to talk to 2GB's Ray Hadley, with whom he joked about how "doing an Abbott" is the new slang for poor decision making.

(Seriously, this is turning into an industrial issue for Bill Shorten. His job's being outsourced to unskilled political foreigners, and I would get my union straight on to it, if I were he).

Leadership change, perhaps? A switch to the deputy? There are enough people discussing the pros and cons within the Liberal Party to qualify it as an option. And thanks to the miracle of modern politics, we don't even have to resort to microfiche or dusty history books to remind us how things pan out when a talented, widely-praised lady deputy is drafted to ease the reins from the hands of a man who can't stop messing up.

Draft Malcolm Turnbull, perhaps? Well, we've been there too.

Mr Abbott, at the National Press Club on Monday, made very clear his view that he was elected by the People, and would take a very dim view of any colleagues who threatened to deprive those same People of the right to see him off the premises if they so chose.

Well, party rooms are increasingly flighty with this stuff, and no one seriously thinks Mr Abbott's colleagues would ignore their own capacity to punt him if they thought it right to do so.

But the Northern Territory has, overnight, provided a fascinating simulation of another - admittedly, rather boutique - political option. What if the PM's colleagues moved on him, and he simply refused to go?

Northern Territory Chief Minister Adam Giles was on Monday night "removed" by challengers Willem Westra van Holthe and John Elferink, two chaps who sound more likely to have discovered Darwin in the 17th century than to be taking it over in the 21st.

But in a gutsy move, Giles just hung on and physically refused to hand over the master key. And what happened? Well, weirdly enough, it worked. Within 24 hours the challengers, lubricated with new jobs, were reflecting on what a tremendous chap Mr Giles was and how it was a funny old world.

Options, options. Life's full of them. But isn't it handy to have a playbook?

Annabel Crabb s the ABC's chief online political writer.

Abbott's options are laid out before him - The Drum (Australian Broadcasting Corporation)