There are strong echoes of the Clark Labour government’s “Closing the Gaps” programme in the system now being used by Auckland surgeons to prioritise patients on ethnicity, geographic location and equity grounds.

“Closing the Gaps” sought to assist socio-economically disadvantaged Māori and Pasifika through specially targeted programmes. Labour had campaigned on this at the 1999 election and started to implement the policy in its first Budget in 2000. Labour’s aim was to combat the systemic racism it saw at the time by confronting socio-economic disparities directly and promoting greater opportunities for Māori and Pasifika.

Although “Closing the Gaps” was popular with Māori, it was dogged from the outset by strident political opposition, culminating in Don Brash’s infamous Orewa Rotary Club speech in early 2004, where he argued for one standard of citizenship for all. The government had stopped referring to “Closing the Gaps” from mid-2000, talking instead about “reducing inequalities”. Nevertheless, it was so stung by the Orewa speech, and the positive response it attracted, that it established an audit of all government programmes to ensure they were being administered on the basis of need, rather than ethnicity. 

Between 1999 and 2004 Labour’s language deliberately changed from an overt, aggressive emphasis on “Closing the Gaps” with Māori and Pasifika to one of meeting needs and reducing inequalities. But the underlying emphasis on improving the socio-economic status of Māori and Pasifika was retained, as they remained the groups where need was the greatest.

Overall, there were material gains by Māori and Pasifika during the entire nine-year term of the Clark government. But Labour stopped acknowledging these after the Orewa speech. Ironically, this gave rise to a sense that Labour was actually neglecting the interests of Māori and Pasifika, reinforced by the foreshore and seabed controversy later in 2004, which was the catalyst for the formation of the original Māori Party.

The same focus on reducing inequality lies behind the ethnicity priority approach Auckland surgeons began following earlier this year to improve Māori and Pasifika access to surgical services. With statistics showing Māori currently have less access to specialist health services because of factors like geographic location, and seven years’ less life expectancy than non-Māori, there is a strong logic supporting the approach being taken in Auckland.

However, the political reaction has been no different from “Closing the Gaps” twenty years ago. The National and ACT Parties have decried the policy as separatist, saying that access to health services should not be determined by need not ethnicity, and that they will overturn it if they form the next government. Prime Minister Hipkins, reminiscent of Helen Clark after the Orewa speech, while defending the policy intent, has sought assurances from his Health Minister that “we are not replacing one form of discrimination with another”. Sounding more doctor than politician, as is her wont, her initial response has been that there are sound clinical reasons for the ethnicity focused approach. But in the meantime, plans to roll-out the initiative across the rest of the country have been put on indefinite hold.     

Already, as with “Closing the Gaps”, the focus of the government’s narrative is shifting from the process, to its intended outcomes. Just as “reducing inequalities” over twenty years ago was promoted by the Clark government as more palatable than “Closing the Gaps”, the early signs are that this government will shift its focus to “reducing disparities”, rather than talking too much about the mechanism by which it intends to achieve this.

But rather than retreat into its shell, and pretend the policy is not happening any more, the way Labour did after 2004, the current government needs to be more activist in explaining why it considers the ethnicity factor to be so important. After all, the evidence that Māori and Pasifika have worse health outcomes than everyone else, is overwhelming. Labour should feel on solid ground in focusing its approach on expanding health access to Māori and Pasifika to improve their life expectancy and overall quality of life, but without implying that this will come at the expense of the needs of others.

But if it decides to ignore the current policy debate, in the hope the controversy surrounding it will evaporate over time, it will run the strong risk, as happened in 2004, of being seen to be doing nothing, handing Te Pati Māori once more a strong weapon to beat it around the head with, but this time only four months before the election.

Given the way things are going right now though, in the words of American baseball great and legendary Malapropist, Yogi Berra, “it looks like déjà vu all over again.”

 

Prime Minister Chris Hipkins' office found out on a Friday evening that Minister Michael Wood had yet to sell his shares in Auckland Airport despite warnings over two years he needed to do so. But it took them until the Sunday evening to advise the Prime Minister of this and the likely political row once the news became public.

 

National Leader Christopher Luxon decided to order a Tesla car as the self-drive car he was entitled to as Leader of the Opposition. His office apparently had misgivings, given Luxon's earlier criticisms of the government's subsidy scheme for electric vehicles, including Teslas. Following their intervention, Luxon changed his mind and cancelled the order. 

 

In the previous term, allegations of sexual harassment by a Labour staffer were held back by her office from the then Prime Minister on the grounds that keeping her in the dark would protect her from any suggestion she knew about the allegations and had not acted. By the time she became involved, it looked as though she had been covering for staffer concerned.

 

In all these cases the damage had been done by the time the leader became aware of the circumstances, and they were on the political defensive as a result while the issue played out in the public arena.

 

Each of these incidents raises questions about the role and performance of the respective leaders’ offices at the time. The leader’s office – be it the office of the Prime Minister or the Leader of the Opposition – and their senior staff within, play a critical, often backroom, role in our system. They provide not only the administrative support that the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition require to do their jobs, but more importantly are often the leader’s political eyes and ears on a day-to-day basis.

 

A good leader’s office will keep its leader closely informed about what is going on around Parliament – the gossip as well as the reality – with the aim of ensuring the leader is not caught out or taken by surprise. Leaders need to know quickly and early what situations are developing so that they can deal with them. The worst thing any Prime Minister or Leader of the Opposition wants is to be caught on the back foot having to defend a situation that may not be of their making, but to which they will be expected to respond.

 

The leader’s office should also be co-ordinating the implementation of the party’s political and Parliamentary strategy. This is especially so for the Prime Minister’s office, and the chief of staff in particular, who ought to be co-ordinating the activities of all Ministers’ offices to ensure they are working towards achieving the government’s objectives. Former chiefs of staff (like Jim Bolger’s Rob Eaddy, Helen Clark’s Heather Simpson, and Sir John Key’s Wayne Eagelson) were particularly adept in this role and were extremely influential members of those governments as a result. (Indeed, Heather Simpson was such a pervasive figure she became widely known as H2 to Helen Clark’s H1!)

 

It is hard to imagine the situations Hipkins and Luxon have faced recently occurring under any of those former chiefs of staff, which begs the question of what is going on within leaders’ offices at present.

 

Sources suggest that during Ardern’s time as Prime Minister, her leader’s office pulled back from actively co-ordinating and overseeing the operation of Ministers’ offices, preferring to leave that role to individual Ministers, under the overall guidance of the Cabinet. That loose arrangement for managing the day-to-day activities of the government seems to be continuing under Hipkins, which may lie at the heart of the government’s delivery problems. While it may have been a genuine but naïve attempt to keep Ministers, rather than officials, at the forefront of implementing government policy, it has not worked in practice and has left the Prime Minister isolated from many day-to-day aspects of government. That means small brush fires often become bigger scrub fires before the Prime Minister gets to hear about them, as was the case with the Wood situation.

 

A large part of this is due to inexperience on the part of both Ministers and staffers about their respective roles and how they should interact. Beyond that, there seems to be a general unwillingness to accept or even invite relevant external advice about this, which implies an insecurity and lack of trust about advice generally.

 

Politicians often like to believe they know best. This can sometimes translate into an unwariness or downright unwillingness to trust staff and the advice they give, because, unlike the politicians, they have not been elected by the public. While correct, it overlooks the point that whatever they may think, politicians cannot do everything by themselves. They need the support of professional staff to achieve their political goals, and to present them with the wider picture when their own views become myopic, or out of touch.

 

Hipkins has been forced to learn all this the hard way, as his increasingly testy response last week to questions about Wood showed. Luxon has so far tried to laugh off the Tesla incident, but will no doubt learn from it regarding the role of his office, in Opposition or in government for the future.

 

The way both offices left their leaders exposed should be timely reminders that their role is to ensure their leaders are always kept in the loop to avoid trouble, rather than advising them only when the damage, however big or small, has been done, and a mop-up job is required.

 

Chris Hipkins has demonstrated many skills since he became Prime Minister unexpectedly just over four months ago. However, successfully managing his Ministers has not been one of them.

So far, he has had to sack one Minister for repeated breaches of the Cabinet rules on conflict of interest; censure one for an inappropriate speech to Radio New Zealand; watch another be summoned before the Privileges Committee on a charge of contempt of Parliament (which may yet involve him as well); and, have one Minister walk out on him altogether to join another party. Now, he has had to stand down one of his closest lieutenants for failing to disclose a shareholding that he had previously acknowledged conflicted with his portfolio responsibilities and that he had promised to sell but had not yet done so.

Together, they contribute to a growing air of slackness about the Hipkins government and the way it operates. Usually, when these types of circumstance occur it is a sure sign of a government having run its course and being ripe for replacement at the next election. With just four months to go until that next election it is going to become increasingly difficult for Hipkins to fend off the taint now entrenching, even if there are no further damaging incidents to emerge.

The situation surrounding Wood is especially dumbfounding, as he was regarded as one of the government’s less risky pairs of hands. His excuse was the same one both Nash and Tinetti fell back on when their lapses were made public – namely, personal oversight for which they were deeply sorry. It all looked a little contrived.

That is especially so in Wood’s case. After all, he was warned a staggering 12 times by the Cabinet Office that he needed to dispose of his Auckland Airport shares. His explanation that the shares were in a trust, and he thought they had been disposed of, but had been too busy to confirm, is weak and defies belief.

The compounding factor here is his wife’s situation. She is also in public life as an Auckland City Councillor and is facing similar allegations of conflict of interest over shares. Her initial explanation for her failure to disclose was even more unbelievable than her husband’s – she claimed she did not know she was a beneficiary of the trust bearing her name that held the shares.

Now, how Wood and his wife manage their personal financial affairs is their business. However, their explanations so far for the potential conflicts of interest that have arisen are far from convincing. Taken together, they leave the suspicion that the full story may be yet to come, something that was exercising Hipkins’ mind when he stood Wood down from the Transport portfolio, pending further inquiries; and Wood selling his Auckland Airport shares.

But, National’s calls for Wood’s dismissal were premature, although more recent reports about decisions he made restricting expansion at North Shore Airport while still holding his Auckland Airport shares may change that. What has been revealed so far is a Minister basking in the reflection of being considered highly competent when he was anything but in the management of his personal affairs. Being caught out this way is certainly personally embarrassing. His hitherto perceived competence is clearly overstated but is not by itself a sufficient reason for his dismissal altogether. Clear evidence the North Shore decision was influenced by his Auckland Airport shareholding would change that.

In any case, the issue is now much bigger for Hipkins than the circumstances of Wood’s failure to get rid of some shares. Given the previous Ministerial crises of the last four months, Hipkins’ own credibility is firmly on the line. After all, he appointed each one of them, and has initially backed them, only to be let down as their wider stories have unfolded.

The fact he has seemed blindsided in each case where a Minister’s shortcomings have been revealed compounds his problems. Each case has raised its own questions about his management style and the performance of his own office. In Wood’s case, the Prime Minister’s Office was aware of the situation for some days before informing the Prime Minister. As Prime Minister he should be the first to know about such things, not the last.

Hipkins’ problem is that what momentum he has been able to establish has been slowed by these now regular Ministerial crises. He looks less and less a determined Prime Minister leading his country through a cost-of-living crisis than one trying desperately to plaster over cracks in a disintegrating government.

From the public perspective the precise details of each case are less relevant than the overall impression they create. Wood’s shares or Tinetti’s answers to questions in the House run second to the perception of incompetent Ministers ignoring the rules. Reversing that impression is now a far bigger challenge for Hipkins than correcting the failings of his errant Ministers.

But while a severe body-blow, the Wood affair is not yet terminal for the government. Wood needs to dispose of his Auckland Airport shares immediately and without fuss. Any further delay or obfuscation will make his position as a Minister untenable, which should be incentive enough for him to now act swiftly.

However, although that would resolve Wood’s immediate situation, it will not remove the stain on his reputation, or more importantly, the taint now engulfing the whole government. The more Hipkins is forced to defend the lax conduct of Ministers who do not seem to know the rules of their jobs, the more he will be dragged down with them.

The last thing Hipkins will want is to spend the next four months fighting off allegations of incompetent Ministers who follow the rules only when it suits. However, as things stand, that is looking more and more likely.

Not a good position from which to fight an election campaign.

 

When it was first unveiled, the government’s extension in this year’s Budget of 20 hours free early childhood education to 2-year-olds from next March was hailed as a masterstroke. The Minister of Finance said it would save qualifying households $133 a week, no mean sum during a cost-of-living crisis, as well as benefitting significant numbers of children. At an estimated cost of $1.2 billion over four years, it seemed a well-targeted investment that would pay both a social and a political dividend.

However, it was not long before the gloss started slipping off the policy. Bold as it seemed, it would benefit only 44,000 families – just 2.3% of the total number of just over 1.9 million families in New Zealand. And then came the reaction of the early childhood education sector, pointing out that the extension could lead to fee increases for any extra hours beyond the initial 20 free hours, and increased child-to-teacher ratios leading to a lower quality of care. Others argued that while the intent of the policy was laudable, the current funding and delivery models were not fit for purpose to implement it. There was even a suggestion that some private providers might be forced to close altogether.

All lamented that it was a pity there had been no consultation with the sector about how things would work in practice before the Budget announcement had been made. In response, the newly appointed Associate Minister of Education generally agreed with the concerns being expressed and offered the accurate but inadequate response that it had not been possible to have full consultation beforehand because of the traditional secrecy that surrounds the development of the Budget.

Almost the same thing had happened last year when the Budget announced a one-off payment of $350 in three tranches to around 1.4 million eligible families to ameliorate the impact of the then developing cost-of-living crisis. The roll-out of that programme was chaotic with many examples of dead people, others who had not lived in New Zealand for years or were otherwise ineligible, receiving the payment. A novel policy idea, drawing on similar programmes introduced overseas, was treated with ridicule because of the apparently sloppy way it was being implemented.

However, it soon became clear that none of this should have been a surprise to the government. Official papers showed that Inland Revenue, the agency charged with implementing the payment scheme, had been warning the government for some time that it had been given insufficient time to gear up its systems and that implementation problems were inevitable.

It would not have been unreasonable to have assumed that chastened by this experience the government would have made doubly sure that the implementation of a policy like 20 hours free early childhood education to 2-year-olds was, as former Minister of Finance, Sir William Birch was prone to say “tidy”, but apparently not.

Now questions are being raised about the government’s recent announcement of a $140 million subsidy to New Zealand Steel to reduce its carbon emissions. New Zealand Steel is planning to buy an electric furnace that can remove up to 800,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide a year. This bold announcement, which was not part of the Budget process and therefore not subject to the same level of secrecy during its development, was hailed by Ministers as “not only be good for the climate, but also a win for minimising waste, retaining jobs, and improving New Zealand’s economic resilience”.

But the details of how these objectives will be achieved remain vague, with the government still to make significant decisions. Some have questioned how this investment sits alongside the more than 2.1 million free credits New Zealand Steel has separately been allocated under the Emissions Trading Scheme. Others want to know whether the government’s involvement is a one-off case, or whether it signals a return to more activist intervention in business. If that is the intention, then what steps is the government proposing to ensure transparency?

While the Climate Change Minister says Treasury is “on board” with the government’s subsidy to New Zealand Steel, the full details of its advice are not yet known. Normally, all the advice available to Ministers when preparing the Budget is released publicly about now, but it is not clear whether, since it was not formally part of the Budget, and for commercial sensitivity reasons, what, if any, information will be released about the New Zealand Steel deal.

The picture that emerges from each of these examples is of initially oversold government policy initiatives that fall short over time of the bold claims made for them.

So, against this backdrop, and with the memory of the failed Kiwibuild programme still fresh, is it now any wonder the Opposition has concluded the housing intensification agreement reached with government in 2021 is impossible to implement?

 Bookmaking on horse racing events was made illegal in New Zealand in 1911. Until 1949, the only legal form of betting was on-course at race meetings. When off-course betting was legalised in 1949, consistent with the statist approach of the time, a single national agency, the Totalisator Agency Board, was established to regulate and control betting in New Zealand.

Like most aged, monopolistic government agencies, it has struggled to keep up with the times, including the growth of on-line, offshore betting on sporting events other than just horse racing; on-line casinos; and other forms of gaming, like Lotto. The TAB’s ongoing financial viability has been an issue for some years now.

But because of mounting social concern about the proliferation of gaming opportunities and the impact on vulnerable people, as well as potential links to organised crime, no government has been prepared to abolish the TAB in favour of a competitive, properly regulated private sector market for betting. So, the current antiquated monopoly has remained, and increasingly frustrated punters have sought better returns from the range of mainly Australian and other offshore betting agencies now available online.

Against that background, the government’s announcement of a new strategic 25-year partnership between the TAB and the British betting Entain that will guarantee our racing industry additional funding of nearly $1 billion over the next five years seems sensible. At the same time, the government is proposing to extend the TAB’s current monopoly for racing and sports betting to cover online betting.

In other words, all forms of betting, other than through the TAB, are likely to be outlawed, effectively entrenching the intent of the establishment of the TAB, three quarters of a century ago. It is not clear whether this is a component of the Entain deal or separate from it. How this might be achieved without resort to Chinese-like censorship of New Zealanders’ online access is another matter altogether, raising its own questions about the extent to which the government is prepared to go to protect the TAB monopoly.

The racing industry’s delight at this latest windfall is drowning out other more concerning aspects of this new deal, specifically related to conflict of interest.

This has been a problem that has dogged the Hipkins’ government in recent months. First came the unfortunate case of former Minister Stuart Nash who proved himself incapable of separating his private connections from his Ministerial responsibilities. Then there was the situation surrounding Minister Kiri Allen and her now infamous speech at the Radio New Zealand farewell to her partner. In both cases, Prime Minister Hipkins was very slow to act, only dismissing Nash when it became impossible to retain him any longer, and declining any action regarding Allen, even after it became clear her speech was no accident.

In doing so, the Prime Minister appears to have relied on an overly literal interpretation of the Cabinet office rules regarding conflict of interest. There was arguably no material gain for both Nash and Allen from their actions, apparently explaining Hipkins’ reluctance to act. Nash fell in the end more because the egregious nature of his overall conduct, rather than any specific benefit gained, made it impossible to retain him. Allen’s remarks have so far been ignored by those at whom they were aimed and consequently, the Prime Minister.

However, the Cabinet Manual also makes the point that “public perception is a very important factor” in dealing with Ministers’ interests. In other words, the perception of a potential conflict of interest is as important as an actual conflict. This latter point is relevant to the government’s decisions regarding the TAB, specifically the proposal to extend the TAB’s current monopoly for racing and sports betting to cover all online betting.

Racing Minister Kieran McAnulty, who made the announcement, was previously a bookmaker for seven years with the TAB. There is no suggestion that he stands in any way to gain materially from the extension of the TAB’s bookmaking monopoly, but his involvement in, and presumably as Minister leadership of this plan, is of concern. It fails the Cabinet Manual’s “public perception” test and simply looks like an ex-bookie looking after his former colleagues.

While McAnulty’s expertise in the area is relevant to the issue, and should not be disregarded, it was unwise to have him fronting the issue, given his career background. At the very least, to avoid any perception of conflict of interest, the announcement should have been made by another Minister, possibly the Minister of Internal Affairs who already has responsibility for gaming matters.

Beyond that, and again from a perception perspective, given the sensitivity of matters relating to the TAB, it was unwise for Hipkins to have made McAnulty the Minister responsible for the TAB in the first place. But, given the lax approach he took to Nash and Allen and their potential conflicts, it is probably not surprising.

There is a danger in all governments of Ministers being seen to be the captives of the sector groups they represent. This is especially so when Ministers come from the sector group concerned. The Minister of Education, a former principal and teachers’ union official, has already risked looking like the unions’ plaything when it comes to the current salary negotiations. Similarly, the Minister of Health, a former Ministry of Health medical officer, comes across as more the protector of current health sector vested interests than the leader of the changes the public health system so desperately requires. McAnulty now risks being cast in the same light with respect to the current proposed TAB changes.

For his sake – he has so far proved to be an effective Minister in other areas – and for the government’s credibility, given that it is already riven by conflicts of interest, perceived or otherwise, the Prime Minister needs to move McAnulty aside from matters relating to the TAB. Otherwise, once again, perceptions risk becoming reality.

 

 

Budgets today are as much a political statement of a government’s intent as they are an economic management plan. They are a balance between what a government aspires to do, and what it can achieve in practice. As such, they are always compromises. Grant Robertson’s six Budgets show this – the first three were severely constrained by the shackle of Quixotic coalition partner New Zealand First, and the last three by the spectres of Covid19 and now, the disastrous January cyclones. Should this be his last Budget, he will leave office never having been able to present a truly “Labour” Budget, for reasons completely beyond his control. 

All these factors influenced the formation of this year’s Budget. It had two primary objectives. First, it needed to show a clear response to the ongoing social and economic ravages brought about by the pandemic, and more recently the summer’s devastating cyclones. At the same time, it had to do something to alleviate the impact of the rising cost-of-living crisis on average households. Its second objective was to set a political platform for Labour’s re-election campaign over the next five months. Robertson faced the classic dilemma of balancing the country’s longer term economic and developmental requirements against the government’s shorter-term imperative of securing its re-election. 

Prime Minister Hipkins had promised a “bread and butter” Budget, and Robertson has not disappointed in that regard. Rather than deliver assistance to families struggling with the rising cost-of-living through boosting Working for Families tax credits, he has opted for a more targeted approach. Extending the 20 free hours of the early childhood education scheme to 2-year-olds will help only those households currently with 2–3-year-olds, not all families facing rising childcare costs. Abolishing prescription co-payments may also help, but it is questionable whether these two measures will do much to help families already struggling to put food on the table. 

Similarly, free public transport for primary school aged children, and half fares for those up to the age of 25 is a pragmatic replacement for the blanket half-price transport scheme that has been in place for the last eighteen months as a cost-of-living relief measure. But it only applies to those living in cities or major towns where public transport is available. And the complete removal from the start of July of the fuel subsidy will hit hard those families relying on car transport to get to work or the kids to school, potentially negating the impact of the cost-of-living measures. 

The National Resilience Plan was a necessary response to the cyclones, but the initial impact will be limited as the focus is properly on long-term infrastructural development, with many details yet to be worked out. The $71 billion package, funded largely by borrowing, is substantial but there must be questions about the national capacity to deliver, given current labour market conditions, and immigration settings. 

The big picture looks a little less grim than that painted last year but is still far from rosy. A recession may now be avoided, ironically not because of any government policy initiatives, but rather because of post cyclone recovery investment. Inflation is predicted to drop to 3% by next September, but GDP is predicted to fall sharply over the next year. The return to a Budget surplus is pushed out a further year to 2025/26. 

Overall, the Budget is neither an election winner nor loser for the government. While young families look the immediate winners from the Budget, the impact on most other households – aside from the prescription charge abolition – is at best neutral. Reduced public transport costs for those under 25 will be offset by rising fuel costs after the subsidy goes in July. Meanwhile, those on fixed incomes, along with the economy’s productive sectors – industry, small businesses, agriculture, and horticulture – have been largely ignored. There is still no sense Robertson, and his colleagues have any idea how to grow the economy to generate the long-term income needed to sustainably fund their social programmes. 

Labour is gambling that its extension of 20 hours free early childhood education to 2-year-olds (estimated to save the small number of eligible households around $133 a week, but not until March next year) and the abolition of prescription charges will pay a significant political dividend. However, that looks to be overly optimistic. In March, ASB economists estimated that households were already likely to have to spend an extra $150 a week over 2023 to keep up with rising costs. With the fuel subsidy coming off at the end of June, rents and mortgages still rising, and the limited early childhood education relief still around 10 months away, the government has not yet done enough for those families to feel better off. 

Nevertheless, Robertson’s “no frills” Budget was probably the best he could do in the circumstances, given the constrained fiscal position. This is more a “bits and pieces” Budget than the “bread and butter” Budget Hipkins promised. Of itself, it is not a viable election springboard for the government. 

So, while the Budget has not set Labour off on a roll into the election campaign, as some undoubtedly hoped it would, it has put the focus more sharply on National. Christopher Luxon and his colleagues now need to show whether, and how, in the same circumstances they could have done any better.

 

 

Christopher Luxon’s announcement ruling out any post-election working arrangement between National and Te Pati Māori is more predictable than bold. Realistically, such an arrangement had never been likely, and recent events have merely confirmed that. So, Luxon’s announcement simply acknowledges the inevitable, but gets in first, sparing National the ignominy of being spurned later by Te Pati Māori. 

Beyond that, Luxon’s move at this point is a potentially smart one, although not without a measure of risk. By portraying a government of Labour, the Greens and Te Pati Māori as a “coalition of chaos” he is certainly trying to capitalise on the confusion of the last week or so. He is also trying to link Prime Minister Chris Hipkins into that by implying that he would not be able to run an effective government if he needed to rely on the Greens and Te Pati Māori. By unspoken contrast, he is planting the seed that a National/ACT government would be much more straightforward and effective. 

In so doing he has thrown down the gauntlet to the Prime Minister. While it is generally accepted that a future Labour-led government will have to involve the Greens, the position is not so clear regarding Te Pati Māori, with Hipkins so far ducking questions on whether they could be part of a future governing arrangement. Luxon is trying to force Labour’s hand – to rule Te Pati Māori in or out of its government formation calculations. And here is where things get interesting. 

If Hipkins says Labour can work with Te Pati Māori in government, Luxon will be able to home in on what concessions Labour will be prepared to make to achieve this. He will be hoping that he can reinforce his “coalition of chaos” message this way. For his part, Hipkins will be wary of giving away too much too soon, for fear of either alienating Te Pati Māori altogether (unlikely) or giving credence to Luxon’s portrayal. 

Luxon’s calculated risk is that there are more potential National voters who will be concerned about the possible involvement of Te Pati Māori in government than not. To them, his announcement provides comfort and certainty about what they might expect of a National-led government. 

Hipkins will be similarly mindful of scaring away some of his soft support if he embraces Te Pati Maori too fervently at this point. At the same time, he will know full well that if he distances himself too much from Te Pati Māori, he runs the risk of alienating some of his own support, especially among Māori voters. Hipkins’ emerging dilemma will be observed by Luxon with relish. 

Luxon’s announcement also creates problems for Te Pati Māori. At the weekend it boldly proclaimed it would be the “kingmaker” at this year’s election. By ruling it out as an option for government, Luxon reduces Te Pati Māori’s role significantly. Now, instead of being the party that could determine the shape of the next government as it clearly hoped, the best the party can wish for is being in some sort of governing partnership with Labour and the Greens. So, rather than being the independent voice of Māori that is has consistently promised to be, Te Pati Māori has now ended up being dependent on Labour to progress its aims. 

This may not please those of its supporters who imagined Te Pati Māori being able to leverage influence between both Labour and National to the overall benefit of Māori. Being at best a potential bit-player in a future Labour/Greens government – likely of itself to be a fraught relationship, given the Greens’ frustration with Labour’s general lack of progress on climate change – is not what those more conservative supporters of Te Pati Māori had in mind. 

Te Pati Māori’s leadership is sharp – the way it recruited Meka Whaitiri shows that – so, will not take Luxon’s rejection lying down. A smart move in these circumstances might therefore be for it to announce that should it hold the balance of power after the election, it will not formally join any government arrangement. Instead, it would sit on the crossbenches, and treat each issue on a case-by-case basis, whichever of the main parties leads the next government. That way, it could retain its mana, and meet the aspirations of its supporters. Given the polls showing neither Labour/Greens nor National/ACT winning a majority at present, such a move would put Te Pati Māori in a genuinely pivotal position. 

Luxon’s move has put the pressure firmly on the Prime Minister to state where Labour stands. The longer Hipkins avoids a definite answer, the longer he will fuel suspicion that a Labour/Greens/ Te Pati Māori arrangement is on the cards. 

For the first time in a while, National has taken the political initiative by raising the spectre of the “coalition of chaos”. How Labour and Te Pati Māori choose to respond could well determine the election outcome.