It is difficult not to see Sir Trevor Mallard’s sacking as New Zealand’s Ambassador to Ireland as anything other than an act of political vengeance by Foreign Minister Winston Peters. After all, there has been considerable antagonistic history between the pair, culminating in then-Speaker Mallard’s trespassing of Peters during the 2022 occupation of Parliament’s grounds by Covid19 protestors.

But Mallard should never have been appointed to a diplomatic post in the first place. His lengthy Parliamentary career had been frequently punctuated by aggressive outbursts – he was thrown out of the Chamber for abuse and misbehaviour more than anyone else during his time in Parliament – showing clearly that he lacked the necessary skills to be a credible diplomat or external representative of New Zealand. His appointment owed far more to political patronage by then Prime Minister Ardern.

It may be a simple coincidence that two of Labour’s highest profile appointments – Phil Goff in London and now Mallard – have been terminated early by Peters, even if Goff’s demise was largely self-inflicted. Nevertheless, they highlight the risks involved in appointing former politicians to diplomatic posts for which they may not be temperamentally suited. Peters’ comment on Mallard’s dismissal that there should be no more such political appointments was understandable in the current circumstances, even if it went a little too far.

London, Washington, Canberra and increasingly Beijing are New Zealand’s most important diplomatic posts. Over the years, from the early 1950s when former National Minister Sir Frederick Doidge was posted to London, there has been a succession of former National and Labour Ministers (including a former Deputy Prime Minister and two former Speakers) serving as New Zealand’s High Commissioner to Britain. Similarly, since Sir Walter Nash was posted to Washington in the 1940s (while continuing to serve as Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Finance!) there has been a parade of former Ministers, including three former Prime Ministers, appointed Ambassador to the United States.

However, political appointments have been less common to the Canberra post, and curiously, there have so far been no political appointments as Ambassador to China, arguably likely to become our most important post in the future.

The argument for political appointments in key (and attractive) posts like London and Washington is that former politicians have political contacts and can therefore open doors that may prove difficult for career diplomats. This may have been so in the days when communications and travel connections were less easy, but it is a more difficult argument to sustain today. After all, if necessary, today a Minister or a Prime Minister can be in either capital in little more than 24 hours, or, as the round table meetings between the world’s leaders on Ukraine have shown, connected instantly by satellite. The position is still a little different in the United States, however, where status counts much more, and where, when we had former Prime Ministers as our Ambassador, unexpected doors opened more readily.

But beyond these appointments, the advantage of former politicians in diplomatic roles is far less obvious and does, as Peters states, snub the talents and experience of professional diplomats who might have otherwise expected those appointments. Indeed, when political appointments have been made, senior diplomats have frequently been appointed to those embassies in supporting roles, to cover for and support the political appointee.

Some political diplomatic appointments have proved to be remarkably successful. Others have been significantly less so, leading to the inevitable conclusion that their appointment has been more about getting someone out of the way, or repaying political favours.

But Peters’ statement that the days of political appointments are over goes a step too far. While such appointments should be rare, and even then, for time-limited specific purposes with appointees required to submit their resignations upon a change of government, it would be unwise to rule them out altogether. Nevertheless, his comments are a timely warning to any of his current government colleagues, and even those who may serve in a future Labour-led government, that contemplating a comfortable diplomatic retirement is likely to become increasingly unrealistic.

From the days of the legendary Sir Carl Berendsen in the 1920s through to the 1940s, New Zealand has produced some outstanding diplomats who have played significant roles in some of the major international events of their times. Since Berendsen’s day, our Ministry of Foreign Affairs has been well regarded for its professionalism and competence, even if it has sometimes appeared a little too cautious to external observers. There is no reason why it cannot continue to attract and provide highly skilled professional diplomats able to serve effectively at the highest level.

The unnecessary controversies surrounding the Goff and Mallard appointments are unfortunate examples of what can happen when politicians chose to reward their own ahead of relying on professional diplomatic expertise. Each detracted from the calibre of New Zealand’s international representation, which is why their early termination was reasonable.

The political commentariat was at its most skittish following the release of two public opinion polls last Monday.

The Taxpayers Union/Curia poll released in the morning projected a hung Parliament, with neither the centre-right nor the centre-left blocs able to claim a majority. That prospect excited much idle speculation for most of the day about what that eventuality could mean.

However, that evening’s TVOne/Varian poll showed the coalition government being re-elected with a reduced majority, despite the falling popularity of the Prime Minister. That immediately set off a round of comment about how long the Prime Minister could last and whether National MPs would move to replace him, completely ignoring the fact that the last time a party replaced its leader in government and went on to win the next election was 85 years ago in 1940.

In all the excitement no-one dared comment that opinion polls are but a snapshot in time, so cannot be considered in isolation. The trend they disclose is far more significant than the result of any individual poll. In that regard, the long-term rolling average of polls still shows the coalition government having the numbers to form a government, even though its majority would be smaller than at the last election. Moreover, only once since then – in March this year – has the polling average showed the Labour/Greens/Te Māori bloc ahead of the coalition government.

One trend that all the polls has showed since February this year has been steadily rising support for New Zealand First. Consequently, at this stage, New Zealand First’s performance looks like being the largest determinant of the result of next year’s election and which group of parties will form the next government. And it is therefore worth recalling that in its four stints in government New Zealand First has twice worked with Labour and twice with National, so potentially could work with either side once more, allowing the commentariat to trot out the “kingmaker” label yet again.

However, New Zealand First’s influence on next year’s election outcome is likely to be different from the traditional post-election dance it has engaged in when in a position to do so. Since 2023, New Zealand First has consistently and frequently ruled out working again with Labour under Hipkins’ leadership, due to residual bad blood from the 2017-2020 coalition experience. On that basis, with Hipkins looking increasingly entrenched as Labour’s leader, at least until the election, it seems reasonable to assume that New Zealand First will not be part of any governing arrangement with Labour so long as he is around.

But that does not mean that New Zealand First will have no influence on whether Labour leads the next government. Its influence will come from the size of its vote share at the election. In short, the more votes New Zealand First garners, the less likely it will be that Labour will be able to form a government.

At present, the soft votes National is shedding look to be going to New Zealand First – they are not crossing the line to Labour. On present numbers, to be able to lead a government after the next election, Labour needs to be converting to its cause more of those voters now deserting National, rather than seeing them just decamp to New Zealand First, and remain within the coalition’s bloc.

This is especially so with support for the Green Party on average hardly having moved above the support it had at election time, and Te Pati Māori’s volatility as a potential governing partner. Labour therefore needs to be actively going after the voters now switching to New Zealand First from National, rather than lethargically standing by, as seems to be the case at present. Otherwise, the likelihood it will be able to form a government after the next election will be lower.

New Zealand First poses just as big, though different, a problem for National. While New Zealand First’s increasing support is not yet threatening the coalition’s hold on power, it is threatening to destabilise its dynamics. At the last election, New Zealand and ACT together accounted for 28% of the coalition’s voter support – on today’s current polling average they make up almost 36% of its support. New Zealand first’s proportion has risen from just under 12% of the coalition’s vote at election time to almost 18% on today’s figures. To maintain its grip on power and not have its influence further reduced, National will therefore also be keen to see New Zealand First’s current support diminish, and for those voters to return to National at the next election.

While National and Labour continue to be portrayed as wallowing, the opportunities for New Zealand First and to a lesser extent ACT will prosper. Given that ACT has nowhere else to go politically than supporting National, New Zealand First with its record of having previously worked with both sides of politics seems set to continue to gain from voter disillusionment, at least in the short-term.

That is why New Zealand First’s next election result will probably determine who forms the next government, and why, for different reasons, it is in National’s and Labour’s interests for New Zealand First’s support to be brought to ground before then.

 

 

Albert Einstein apparently once said "insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

Earlier this week it was reported that the Labour Party's Policy Council is recommending the Party include introducing a capital gains tax in its policy for the next election. If that recommendation subsequently becomes part of Labour's policy, it will confirm the accuracy of Einstein's alleged comment.

Labour has flirted with the idea of a capital gains tax since the late 1980s when a tax advisory committee recommended to the then fourth Labour Government that such a tax be introduced. The government rejected the idea then fearing the public backlash, and Labour resisted internal pressure to promote capital gains tax for the next twenty years.

Finally, in 2011 and even more explicitly in 2014, Labour went to the electorate proposing the introduction of such a tax. It was resoundingly defeated at both elections. But Labour did not accept the electorate’s rejection of its tax ideas.

By 2017, the capital gains tax was back on Labour’s agenda, although this time the party stopped short of specifically proposing it. Rather, it suggested establishing an independent tax working group to examine all aspects of the tax system, including capital gains tax. When that working group, chaired by former Labour Finance Minister Sir Michael Cullen, duly recommended the introduction of a capital gains tax, the die seemed cast. Even more so when Cullen prophetically observed that it was “now or never” for a capital gains tax, because political pressure was likely to make the idea even more difficult in the future.

However, when the crunch came, Prime Minister Ardern – a self-confessed long-time capital gains tax supporter – baulked at going beyond her talk, and abandoned the idea, saying it lacked popular support. In 2019 she pledged never to introduce a capital gains tax so long as she was Prime Minister.

In 2023, new Prime Minister Hipkins overruled a plan from his Finance and Revenue Ministers for a tax-switch, reducing personal taxes but introducing a capital gains and possibly a wealth tax to compensate for the revenue loss. In words akin to Ardern’s, he said those ideas would be off the agenda while he was Prime Minister.

One would have thought that after more than a decade of first promoting then backing away from the idea of a capital gains tax Labour should have by then have learnt its lesson. But no; no sooner was the Party back in Opposition at the end of 2023, than party activists were again raising the spectre of a capital gains tax, claiming – in complete denial and contravention of recent history – that Labour’s failure to introduce a capital gains when in government contributed strongly to its defeat in 2023.

To placate some of these death-wish activists more concerned with political purity than winning elections, last year’s party conference referred the question of a capital gains or a wealth tax to the party’s Policy Council for consideration.

Reports that the Policy Council now wants a capital gains tax could place Hipkins in a near impossible situation. He is smart enough to know that the chances of being able to persuade the public now that a capital gains is a political winner when he and three of the party’s leaders before him either could not or would not do so over the last decade are close to zero. Moreover, he also knows his own credibility would be shattered if he now opted for a capital gains tax having so vigorously ruled it out in government barely two years ago.

But overruling the Policy Council and potentially the party’s ruling New Zealand Council a little further down the track is unlikely to be a feasible option either. Many in the party resented Hipkins’ “Captain’s Call” rejecting the capital gains/wealth tax option in 2023 and are unlikely to tolerate his being consistent and doing so again this time around. A second “Captain’s Call” might be a step too far.

However, the last thing Labour can afford right now is a distracting and divisive debate on this issue. Against the odds, it has a strong chance of becoming the government again next year, given the present government’s performance and the wallowing state of the economy. It already has enough ammunition to mount a strong campaign in 2026 and does not need to let itself be sidetracked by issues that have historically worked against it. So how Hipkins manages the ongoing internal party debate from here and maintains his personal credibility will be intriguing to watch.

Meanwhile, all this is mana to National, at a time when it needs it. No doubt it will be already preparing a fear campaign about the impact of capital gains taxes on things like the family farm, the holiday house and boat, and other assets New Zealanders enjoy or aspire to. Again, history suggests such a campaign will produce the same results as previous attempts to introduce a capital gains tax.

Therefore, rather than allow itself to get bogged down in another rerun of a long-standing political argument it has consistently failed to win, Labour should heed the rueful observation of Sir Michael Cullen after the Ardern government abandoned his tax working group’s capital gains tax plan. He said:” "The problem we have is New Zealanders seem not to want an inheritance tax, or a wealth tax, or a land tax or a capital gains tax but they still want to complain about growing inequality of wealth. Clearly that is a political position that has to be recognised, but it is not a satisfactory one.”

Labour therefore ought to be taking the opportunity to promote constructive reforms about tax enforcement, collection and compliance to boost fairness and equity, rather than continuing to flog the capital gains tax dead horse.

That Oppositions do not win elections, but governments lose them is a well-established political maxim. Elections are essentially a judgement on the performance of the government of the day. Seldom does the capability of the Opposition to govern come into the calculation, if the government has lost public favour. Elections are therefore more about getting rid of an unpopular government than the risk of installing an often-unprepared Opposition in power.

Moreover, voters often have short memories. A recent poll showed many people believe it is time for another group of parties to govern in New Zealand, despite it being less than two years since that same group was unceremoniously turfed out of office and does not yet seem to fully appreciate the reasons why. Indeed, although the Opposition has not yet released any specific policy, its general attitude seems to be that it will just pick up where it left off last time and resume the same sort of policy approach and style of government voters rejected so clearly at the last election.

That is why Labour was able to get away last week with criticising the government's handling of the ongoing cost-of-living crisis without offering any alternative of its own, because, frankly, as the Opposition, its views do not matter. Next year's election will be more a referendum on the government's performance than a critique of the Opposition's alternative.

This is not unique to New Zealand. Last year's Labour landslide victory in the British general election was more a repudiation of fourteen years of Conservative rule, than an endorsement of Labour. Now, having rejected the Conservatives so overwhelmingly, and to date being less than impressed with Labour's offering, it is hardly surprising that British voters are flocking in droves to the untried Reform Party.

The New Zealand equivalent of that phenomenon has been the increase in support for minor parties, New Zealand First and the Greens in particular. So much so that the next election, and which parties form the next government, could come down to how well the minor parties perform, rather than the major parties they could be expected to align with in government.

Given that context, it is not altogether surprising that there is mounting speculation the current government could be the country’s first one-term government in 50 years. But, so far, the evidence for that happening is not strong. The National/ACT/ New Zealand bloc has led in most opinion polls since the end of 2021. Today, the latest rolling average of polls shows the coalition government ahead of its rivals by just under 4%, and still able to form a majority government. At the same point in the electoral cycle three years ago, the then Labour Government was trailing the then-Opposition National/ACT/ New Zealand bloc by just under 5%.

Nevertheless, National’s position is precarious. Its vulnerability, which this column has highlighted many times previously, is its increasing dependence on its coalition partners to get across the electoral line. Until recently, the Prime Minister has shrugged this point aside, saying it is just one of the realities of MMP.

However, in recent weeks there has been a perceptible change in the government’s tempo, with a slew of major policy announcements from National in a variety of areas, from a new infrastructure plan, a new funding model for general practices, an end to building open-plan classrooms, and even the controversial changes to electoral enrolment provisions, National has shown a new determination in seeking to dominate the political agenda on its terms. No longer does it seem happy to let its coalition partners control the policy agenda as they appear to have done throughout the government’s term.

With the election just over a year away National looks to have moved centre-stage in terms of the government’s performance.  It knows that to win the next election the coalition government needs to first lock-in the support of those who voted for it last time, before trying to drag in additional other voters from across the political divide. So, National’s current moves are a deliberate attempt to claw back supporters who may have deserted it for ACT or New Zealand First, because they have seen them as more boldly defined. Without locking-in that core government support into National’s column, National’s position will become shakier and its prospects more uncertain.

Things are not quite as challenging for Labour, however. Because it is in its first term in Opposition and because one-term governments are a rarity – only two (both Labour) in the last century – while there may be increasing hope, there is not yet any real expectation that it can win in 2026. That immediately relieves some of the pressure of expectation of returning to office so quickly.

Similarly, because governments lose elections rather than Oppositions win them, the level of scrutiny on Labour’s promises will always be less than that on the government’s promises. That will change a little as the election nears, but for Labour, right now, the longer it can keep getting away with criticising the government and not offering any constructive alternative, the better.

None of this means a Labour-bloc victory at the next election is unlikely or impossible. With polls showing increasing disapproval of the country’s current direction, it must be acknowledged there is a greater chance of this occurring. And yet again, it will be a case of the government losing, rather than the Opposition winning.

In March this year, Straits Shipping, operators of the Bluebridge Cook Strait ferries, announced the purchase of a new ferry. The nearly 28,000 tonne Livia, built in 2008, was bought to replace the 28 year-old Strait Feronia, in service with Bluebridge since 2015. 

 

The Livia arrived in Wellington earlier this month and began service on the Cook Strait run this week. No terminal renovations have been required in either Picton or Wellington to accommodate the Livia, which will carry around 375 passengers and 200 cars. Morgan Stanley Infrastructure, owners of Straits Shipping since 2022, have not disclosed the Livia's purchase price nor how long the purchase negotiations took.

 

In sharp contrast to Bluebridge's apparent time-frame for replacing the Strait Feronia, back in 2018 the then Labour/New Zealand First coalition government launched the IREX project to replace the publicly owned Interislander line's three aging ferries. Three years later, in June 2021, Kiwirail, the operator of the Interislander ferries, signed a contract with Korea's Hyundai Mipo shipyards to build two new rail enabled ferries. They were projected to enter service in 2026. The cost of the project was estimated to be $1.45 billion.

 

But just over two years later, by the time the current National/Act/New Zealand First coalition had taken office, the project's cost had more than doubled to $3.1 billion. There were estimates the cost could even climb as high as $4 billion by the time the ships were delivered.

 

However, the massive explosion in costs was not related to the ships - their cost remained relatively static - but in the costs of upgrading shoreside facilities on both sides of Cook Strait to accommodate the new ferries. It was therefore no real surprise that the new government cancelled the project and went back to the drawing board, looking for a "Toyota Corolla rather than a Rolls Royce solution" as Finance Minister Nicola Willis said at the time.

 

Earlier this year, the government announced a revised programme for building two new rail-enabled ferries to be in service by 2029, with substantially pared back shoreside facilities. As part of the plan, the trouble-plagued 26 year-old Aratere will be withdrawn in a few weeks. Its withdrawal will mean there will be no rail-enabled ferries on Cook Strait, until the new ships arrive in 2029. By that time, the Interislander's two remaining ferries, Kaiārahi and Kaitaki, will be 31 and 34 years old respectively. They will be long overdue for replacement - only the Tamāhine has served longer on the Cook Strait route, from 1925 to 1962.

 

And, in sharp to contrast to Bluebridge, Interislander's ferry replacement programme will have taken just over eleven years, assuming no further delays. Also by 2029, Bluebridge's other ferry, the 500 passenger, 200 car, Connemara, will be coming up for replacement. But even then it will still be younger than Interislander's ferries are today.

 

Bluebridge and the Interislander have an almost equal share of the Cook Strait passenger and vehicle traffic. Together, they are a vital transport link between the North and South Islands. It is in the interests of both the travelling public and the freight and transport industries that they provide a safe and reliable service across Cook Strait. Yet both have had their share of incidents with their ships in recent years, raising concerns about the age and resilience of the ferries.

 

Given this concern, and the lengthy nature of Interislander’s current ferry replacement programme, there must inevitably be questions about the durability of the Cook Strait service until the new ferries arrive in 2029. While Bluebridge has future-proofed its operation, at least for the medium-term, by the acquisition of the Livia at the mid-point of its life, the same cannot confidently be said for the Interislander. Kaitaki and Kaiarahi are already old ships, with the prospect of at least four to five years more service, without major incident, ahead of them. That is a bold assumption.

 

Whereas Interislander’s keenness to buy new ferries for the first time since the building of Aratere in 1999 is understandable, it stands in sharp contrast to Bluebridge’s strategy of purchasing mid-life ships and turning them over every decade or so. With the cost blow-outs associated with the original IREX project and the delays associated with the refocusing of the ferry replacement programme, taxpayers might be forgiven for wondering whether the more short-term approach of Bluebridge has greater merit.

 

Livia’s first Cook Strait crossing this week, just a couple of weeks after arriving in New Zealand, and just over four months after its purchase, will add fuel to that question.

 

 

 

National Prime Ministers seem to have a thing about Wellington.

In 2013 then Prime Minister John Key raised the ire of Wellington’s community and business leaders when he told an Auckland audience that the capital city was “dying” and that “we don't know how to turn it around.” He subsequently offered “an unreserved apology” to anyone his remark had offended, adding that “actually Wellington's an extremely vibrant place.”

This week, Key’s protégé, Christopher Luxon has been engaged in a mutually unedifying spat with Mayor Tory Whanau over her Council’s spending priorities, claiming the city’s new convention centre was “loss-making” and specifically criticising a new $2.5 million public toilet block which comes complete with what the Council describes as “beautiful lighting” to help reduce anti-social behaviour.

Meanwhile, those hoping that the coming local body elections would lead to a return of common-sense politics and a focus on basic services now that Whanau has withdrawn from the contest will likely be as disillusioned as ever after recent developments. The circus looks like carrying on, whoever is elected.

Centre-right challenger Ray Chung’s mayoral campaign has been all but blown out of the water by Whanau’s revelation of a salacious e-mail about her he sent to some Council colleagues just over two years ago. Chung says he was not aware personally of the extraordinary allegations against Whanau, because his e-mail was based on a conversation with a neighbour about the neighbour’s son, while out walking his dog. He had not checked further for accuracy before passing the story on to colleagues.

Not only does this incident show how lacking in judgement Chung is, but it also reflects extremely poorly on his capacity to provide the effective leadership the city so desperately requires. Nor is it the first time Chung has been accused of making wildly inaccurate comments about Council colleagues and staff that have subsequently proven unfounded.

Moreover, Chung’s “apology” was anything but. It took several days to be forthcoming after the email was revealed, with Chung offering frankly pathetic excuses about technical problems putting the video message together. Even then, the words of apology were lost in Chung’s claims that the whole incident was part of a dirty politics campaign against him, which he was calling out.

Chung’s mayoral campaign is supported by a team of candidates, running under the oxymoronic banner, Independent Together. There is a shadowy group of political operatives behind them that has apparently already put together a dossier of derogatory material for its candidates to use against other candidates, something Chung claims to know very little about. Perhaps his team would be more accurately titled Inept Together!  

Since Whanau withdrew from the mayoral campaign it has been genuinely assumed that former Labour leader and senior Cabinet Minister Andrew Little would walk into the mayoralty in her absence. While this may yet be the case – and no doubt Chung’s conduct over the last week will have strengthened his chances – Little is so far also falling short of offering Wellington the mayoral leadership it needs.

After the upheaval of recent years and given the mess the currently dysfunctional Council is in, Wellington needs a Mayor who will stand above petty party politics and give the city unifying, consensual leadership. Little is not yet demonstrating he can do this.

The botched and inaccurate attempts by Independents Together to portray Little as not prepared to commit to putting the city’s interests ahead of the Labour Party are little more than an example of the dirty politics Chung says he does not support. Nevertheless, there is whispered concern in some Labour ranks that Little is not sufficiently distancing himself from his Labour past, especially given the increasing public distaste for the influence of party politics in local government.

This column has previously made the point that to achieve a sustainable and durable Mayoralty Little needs to build support across the city, including in the leafier suburbs that have been ignored by recent Councils. Relying on core Labour voters to elect him would simply continue the divide which has afflicted Wellington for too long.

Little is an intelligent and effective politician who could provide the leadership the city so desperately and urgently needs. While he is absolutely entitled to his own political views and allegiances, he needs to put these in the background while he promotes issues of concern to all those living in Wellington. However, so far, he looks and sounds too much like a traditional Labour candidate to inspire confidence he can do that.

With Chung ‘s self-inflicted implosion, and the lack of any other credible mayoral candidate, the focus is now more strongly than ever on Little. With just over twelve weeks until the local body elections, there is still plenty of time for Little to align his campaign with all of Wellington city.

Otherwise, his likely election will not be the breath of fresh air many had hoped for. Wellington has had enough of the polarised Council politics of recent years and desperately needs a unifying Mayor. Now, more than ever, Little must show he has the capacity and the will to be such a Mayor.

If he cannot do so, the election will produce just more of the same, and Wellington’s Council circus will continue.

 

 

Phase Two of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into the government’s response to Covid19 and its effects got underway this week, with the commencement of the hearing of public submissions.

According to the Commission chair, Grant Illingworth KC, the focus of this aspect of the inquiry is to hear from the public about their experiences, including the impacts on "social division and isolation, health and education, and business activity.” It will also " hear from experts about the key decisions and their consequences, and lessons to be learned from what happened."

There will be a further phase of the inquiry next month, to hear from key decision makers who "led and informed" the government's response to the pandemic.

Already there have been calls for former Prime Minister Dame Jacinda Ardern to return from the United States to give evidence to and be cross-examined by the Royal Commission, but it is not yet clear whether she will do so. Current Labour leader, Chris Hipkins was vague when interviewed about whether Ardern would appear, even though he says he met her in London last week. Ardern has subsequently said that she will be happy to “provide evidence” to the inquiry but she has so far shied clear of confirming that means she is willing to appear in person.

As the person who led New Zealand through the pandemic crisis, and received wide international acclaim for her performance, there is no question that Ardern should front up at the New Zealand inquiry. Failure to do so, given the subsequent national division over the pandemic response, would send all the wrong signals, and would diminish the credibility currently attached to her government’s overall Covid19 performance. Appearing before the inquiry would be a clear acceptance of public accountability for actions taken in the national interest during a national crisis. She owes it to New Zealanders – her “team of five million” – to do so.

But whether Ardern decides to front or not, there are clear signs that her Labour Party colleagues are not impressed by the public phases of the inquiry now getting underway. They seem clearly uncomfortable with having to explain and justify their actions to an independent Royal Commission. Hipkins has already dismissed the new stages as being designed to “achieve a particular outcome, particularly around providing a platform for those who have conspiracy theorist views."

While he says he will co-operate with the inquiry and answer all the written questions put to him, he would not commit to appearing in person if asked to do so. “I don’t want to see happen … a whole lot of theatrics. I’m very interested in engaging with them on how … we can capture the lessons … [but] the terms of reference are certainly far more political than the first one,” he said.

As with Ardern, Hipkins should appear before the inquiry. He was one of the most senior Ministers involved in the then government’s response, and will forever be associated with some of its more controversial measures like the MIQ scheme, restrictions on family reunification in stressful circumstances and the ridiculous short-lived suggestion in late 2021 that Aucklanders might have to get prior government permission for the time of day and dates on which they could leave for the summer holidays. Whatever his concerns about the terms of reference, Hipkins, like Ardern, owes it to all those who suffered through MIQ or not being able to join dying loved ones in their final few hours to front up and publicly justify those actions.

There is a third person who should similarly be required to front before the Royal Commission and that is the former Director-General of Health, Sir Ashley Bloomfield. Although the former government was ultimately solely responsible for the various decisions taken, many of those decisions were based on advice provided by Bloomfield. Moreover, during the period of the pandemic, Bloomfield enjoyed a level of access to both the Prime Minister and the whole Cabinet that has not been shared by any other public servant in New Zealand’s history. The unique nature of his role at that time makes him more accountable for the decisions taken than any other senior public servant would normally be.

A key element of Ardern’s, Hipkins’ and Bloomfield’s success during the pandemic was that they all displayed a consistent level of confidence that they were making the right decisions in the best interests of all New Zealanders. That portrayal of confidence played a key role in getting New Zealanders onside and generally complying with the various measures put in place, despite the considerable disruption to their own lives and circumstances.

Given that level of unprecedented upheaval and restriction on personal freedom – greater even than wartime – which people went along with because they believed it was for the greater good, it is now far from unreasonable for New Zealanders to expect Ardern, Hipkins and Bloomfield to appear before the Royal Commission to explain their actions in a way that they would not and could not do at the time.

Only then will the Royal Commission be sufficiently informed to report on “lessons to be learned from what happened.”

 

Symbolism over substance is a well-established political art. Sometimes symbolism is a substitute for decisive action, sometimes it is a way of signalling a future policy intent that for various reasons cannot yet be achieved. On other occasions, it is a simple diversionary tactic, designed to distract attention from policy failure elsewhere.

A recent good example of symbolism over substance is New Zealand First’s proposed Bill to ban the display of any flag or emblem other than the New Zealand flag on government buildings. This is all part of New Zealand First’s “war on woke” and is obviously aimed at prohibiting the display of Tino Rangatiratanga and LGTBQ flags on public buildings, something its anti-woke constituency would likely approve of.

But whatever one thinks of that policy, it hardly requires an Act of Parliament to achieve it. A directive to relevant chief executives would do just as well, but that would remove the drama of dealing with such a non-issue by legislation, which would in turn detract from the public attention the policy is seeking to gain.

It is reminiscent of the early 1980s when the then Education Minister Merv Wellington became obsessed with every school having a flagpole and flying the New Zealand flag daily. He even went as far as promulgating Regulations setting out the dimensions and material of the flag and specific rules about its display. Rather than being seen as an assertion of national spirit and patriotism, as the Minister hoped, the policy quickly became an object of ridicule, detracting from the many more serious educational issues around at the time. Once he was no longer Minister, the policy disappeared.

If history is any guide, New Zealand First’s flag policy, should it even make it to legislation, will not survive either. But it will reinforce New Zealand First's credentials with the “anti-woke” brigade it is seeking to appeal to, in just the same way its earlier, but never implemented, policy on gender-specific toilet access was designed to.

But New Zealand First are not the only party playing the symbolism over substance card. Earlier this week National announced plans for an instant fines approach to dealing with shoplifters. The rhetoric was strong, but the details and the timing remain vague. Not surprisingly though, the plan has been widely welcomed by small businesses who have been adversely affected by increasing shoplifting levels in recent years. For many, the symbolic effect was enough – at last the government was recognising there was a problem to be resolved.

However, it is still far from clear how the instant fines system being suggested will work (a correspondent to Wellington’s Post asked how people who resorted to shoplifting because they could not afford to pay could cope with an instant fine), or what level of Police resources will be dedicated to it. And nor it is clear when the necessary legislation will be introduced and passed.

Still, it all looks like strong government, even if the details are still uncertain. And so, it serves its political point, which was, after all, the primary objective. The government has put its stake in the ground, and, even better from its point of view, entrapped the Opposition into opposing it. It has won the symbolism battle on shoplifting, but it remains to be seen whether it will be as successful with the substance.

The other side of this coin is when politicians refuse to acknowledge the substance of an issue and wallow instead in the symbolism surrounding it. In an extraordinary outburst this week, the normally considered Chris Hipkins told a radio host that the reason ram raids were no longer a media issue was because “your Tory owners at NZME have just decided not to put it on the front page anymore. It’s still happening, it’s just NZME have decided that it’s not in the Government’s best interests and they do the National Party’s singing for them and so they’re not covering it as much anymore.”

Unfortunately for Hipkins the facts tell a different story. In 2022, there were 714 ram raids reported. The following year – when Hipkins was Prime Minister – that figure dropped to 495. However so far this year it sits at just 45, a more than 90% fall on the figure of Hipkins’ time. That, not media ownership prejudice, is the reason they are not getting the coverage they used to, but Hipkins will be hoping his media bashing will resonate with his die-hard supporters and so detract attention from the facts.

The danger here is not so much that politicians favour symbolism over substance from time to time. That is part and parcel of the political game which every politician engages in when it suits them. The problem is when the politician is revealed to have no other modus operandi than symbolism over substance, and when that becomes their sole end.

Voters quickly spot such cant and discount those politicians accordingly.

In politics, things often turn full circle. National's current musings about the future of regional councils following New Zealand First’s call for their abolition is the latest example.

Regional councils were established following major reforms instituted by the fourth Labour Government in 1989. The aim of those reforms was to streamline what was then considered to be a cumbersome and inefficient structure with over 850 ad hoc boards and councils. These were slashed to just 86 multi-purpose local authorities. Thirteen new regional councils (subsequently reduced to 11 through amalgamations) were also established, with broad environmental responsibilities, including pest and weed control, natural resource management, and civil defence. 

The reforms were vigorously opposed by the National Party, as an assault on local democracy and representation. It saw the new regional councils as an artificial and unnecessary overlay that would be no effective replacement for the many established counties and boroughs that were being abolished.

But there was another important element to Labour's local government reforms than just getting rid of counties and boroughs. At the same time, the Labour Government was revising planning and resource management law, bringing together 54 different planning and environmental statutes into a single resource management act. The new regional councils were intended to have a key regulatory role in the resource management regime this new legislation would usher in.

When the National Government took office in 1990 once of its first acts was to wind back the powers of the new regional councils. Consequently, regional councils were left largely toothless, with substantially reduced roles. For the last thirty-five years they have therefore remained an awkward anomaly, with little public understanding of their purpose.

Also, much of the controversy that has attended the Resource Management Act since its passage in 1991 can be traced back to the winding back of the original powers intended for regional councils to administer its provisions. The upshot was that when the Act was introduced, it was largely in a regulatory vacuum, which gave rise to many of the problems that have dogged it ever since.

National is now looking to dump the Resource Management Act altogether and to replace it with a more streamlined, centrally based standards-driven approach to reduce the number of individual resource consents required. Given that, it is hardly any surprise that the government should also be asking whether regional councils are needed at all. So, not only is National on the cusp of getting rid of the Resource Management Act, which it has never really been comfortable with, but now also sees the associated opportunity of ridding itself of regional councils, about which it has been wary and unconvinced ever since they were established.

Should all this come to pass, and regional councils are done away with, few will lament their passing. Many though will agree with Christchurch Mayor Phil Mauger that if regional councils have had their day, the bigger question will be what comes next.

Will there be more super-cities like Auckland with a unitary authority carrying out the functions previously ascribed to regional and territorial government? If so, how many super-cities could there be? At a glance, probably very few. Napier-Hastings, Wellington including the Hutt Valley and the Kapiti Coast, and greater Christchurch seem the obvious candidates under such a scenario, but what about the rest of the country?

Or are most of the responsibilities currently performed by regional councils going to be taken over by the new national standards bodies the resource management law changes are proposing? Where does that leave public transport? Or will that be passed back to city and district councils to provide?

And, given that the current rating system for funding councils is almost broken, and the government now looks set to exacerbate the situation by introducing rates caps, how will all these changes be paid for? A more likely scenario in such circumstances would simply be that councils severely reduce or abandon many of their services because they can no longer afford to pay for them.  

National’s plan to establish specific City and Regional Deals to focus on infrastructure and long-term economic development give a clue to its response. Consistent with the Prime Minister’s approach to government generally, it seems far more interested in transactional relationships with local communities than maintaining democratic representational structures for their own sake.

The City and Regional Deals approach may work if such deals are substantial and offer real regional benefit. But so far, it is difficult to tell. No such deals are yet in place – the first one is promised by the end of 2025, with three more scheduled for 2026.

In just over six weeks candidate nominations for this year’s local body elections close. With the way things are currently swirling, those considering running for regional councils ought to be watching National’s musings about the future of regional government very carefully.

 

Health Minister Simeon Brown's desire to make greater use of private hospital capacity to bring down elective surgical waiting lists makes sense. So too does his plan to increase the period for which private hospitals can be contracted to the public sector from three years to ten years. That will provide more certainty to both sectors about future capacity requirements and should allow for better long-term planning. Not to mention better service to the public.

However, it will inevitably raise the spectre of intensifying concern over what is already called the "postcode lottery" approach to the provision of healthcare. This refers to the perceived uneven distribution of healthcare resources and services, leading to significant variations in the quality and availability of care depending on where a person lives. The concern is that health outcomes and access to healthcare may depend more on someone's postcode or geographic area, rather than their individual needs.

The general assumption underpinning this is that the further away someone lives from a main centre, the more difficult it can be to gain access to quality healthcare. The focus of attention is far more likely to be on the needs of large populations than smaller or more isolated communities whose healthcare will consequently suffer.

Brown's critics say that his moves to incentivise greater use of private hospital surgical capacity over the next decade will simply mean more and better private hospitals in larger communities - where the patients and the money are - leaving smaller communities out in the cold once again. But these concerns may not fit with what is happening at present.

Earlier this week Health New Zealand released results to show how well various districts are tracking in achieving the government’s key health targets. In general, the government is aiming for 95% attainment of each of the five goals by each health district by 2030. The current average score is 70.7%, so there is still a long way to go.

However, what is more interesting is that the figures show smaller health districts generally doing better than the larger ones. For example, the Lakes (Rotorua and Taupo), Tairawhiti and South Canterbury districts have already surpassed the 2030 target of 90% of their patients receiving cancer management service within 31 days of the decision to treat. Bigger districts like Waikato, Canterbury and Southern (Otago/Southland) are well down that list.

West Coast, Tairawhiti, South Canterbury and Lakes are doing best in terms of shorter stays for patients in emergency departments, with West Coast having already met the 2030 target. By contrast, Auckland, Waikato and Capital and Coast languish near the bottom.

Lakes, South Canterbury, and West Coast are at or near the top when it comes to patients waiting less than four months for first specialist assessment, with Lakes already having met the 2030 target. But when it comes to childhood immunisations and shorter waiting times for elective treatments, the bigger districts are generally performing better than their smaller counterparts.

The overall picture that emerges is that while overall the country has a long way to go to achieve the 2030 targets, the gap between smaller districts and their large urban counterparts is far less than might previously have been imagined. Indeed, the smaller health districts are outperforming their larger urban colleagues in many of the critical areas. While the figures are a snapshot in time covering the first quarter of this year only, and therefore need to be treated with caution, they do suggest the capability and capacity gaps across the country are far less than what might be generally have been expected.

All of which is relevant to Brown’s plans to make greater use of private hospital capacity. Access to cancer treatment services, and elective surgery procedures remain specific bottlenecks across the country, especially in the major centres. Greater utilisation of private hospital capacity in these areas could free up more acute public sector resources in other areas, which could be used to meet patients’ needs in both the large cities and nearby smaller population areas. That would be a positive step forward.

However, a bigger problem still looms unresolved. Brown’s acknowledgement that private hospitals need a greater sense of long-term certainty before they can be expected to invest in service development the way he hopes is laudable. But the same applies across the whole health sector – not just the private hospitals.

Six months on from Brown taking on the health portfolio and promising more certainty and purpose, there is still no clear sense of the government’s intended overall direction. Health professionals, general practitioners, and specialist services remain no wiser than they were at the start of the year about the professional and regulatory structures they will be expected to work within, or what long-term public funding arrangements will be put in place. And there has been no firm indication of when decisions on any of these areas can be expected. It is therefore little wonder that staffing shortages remain in the public system as many staff seek more certain futures elsewhere.

Patients, whom Brown says are his top priority, are as frustrated as ever. While they acknowledge and appreciate the efforts of health professionals amidst this uncertainty, they find it increasingly difficult having to wait weeks to get an appointment with their GP, for example. They are looking despairingly to the government, which promised at election time to sort out Labour’s health reforms, to honour that commitment.

Brown’s primary challenge remains convincing voters before the next election that the government is doing so.

Being a backbench government Member of Parliament is at best a mixed blessing.

On the one hand, there is the excitement of being part of the government team, able to interact with Ministers from the Prime Minister downwards about what the government is doing and generally being “in the know”. Through Caucus committees, government backbenchers can work alongside Ministers on the development of policy ideas which may eventually come to fruition as government policy.

Government backbenchers can also lobby Ministers about issues of particular importance to the electorates or districts they represent and can generally expect, for obvious political reasons, any such representations to be treated more favourably than if they were coming from an Opposition MP. Locally, they can then claim the credit for moves beneficial to their electorates or regions.

But, on the other hand, the ultimate decisions still rest with Ministers and the Cabinet, meaning government backbenchers are often no more than influential supplicants. And because of collective Cabinet responsibility – the doctrine that binds all members of the Executive, including Ministers outside Cabinet and Parliamentary Under-Secretaries to support all Cabinet decisions – the Executive virtually always has the numbers to prevail in any Caucus discussion.

The formation of the Budget each year, and major policy decisions are almost entirely the province of the Cabinet, with backbenchers usually informed of the details after the event. In case of the Budget, government backbenchers are normally briefed on its contents only about an hour before it is delivered in the House – about the same time as senior Opposition MPs are given an embargoed copy in a pre-Budget lock-up, and considerably later than the media whose lock-up begins hours earlier – yet they are expected to support it enthusiastically when it is debated in the House.

It is often a similar process regarding controversial legislation pushed through under Urgency. In what has become the classic but no means only example, in late 1988 Labour MPs were informed at an early morning meeting of Cabinet’s intention to introduce at 9:00 am that morning under Urgency a Bill to make “some minor technical changes” to the way departmental chief executives were appointed – that Bill was the infamous State Sector Act.

Almost certainly, the same process would have been followed with this week’s dramatic and controversial changes to the way pay equity issues are addressed. The fact that this was an ACT-driven initiative adds a further complication to the process. But the surprise that accompanied its announcement suggested as few people as necessary were aware in advance of the plan for obvious security reasons. Government backbenchers were unlikely to have been in this group.

The upshot was that when Parliament resumed this week after a three week recess this legislation was introduced under Urgency, to be passed through all stages as soon as possible without any reference to a select committee or opportunity for public submissions. The Cabinet simply wanted the legislation passed as quickly as possible, to prevent the possibility of any legal or other challenges before the law was changed.  

To do so, it relied on the support of the government backbench for the obligatory occasional brief supportive speeches and the necessary votes in Parliament for it to happen as quickly as possible. As they did so, the backbenchers would have had to endure the usual standard cries of “shame” and outrage from the other side of the House, notwithstanding that they too when in office – like every government – used and will continue to use Urgency in this way to pass controversial legislation.

Over the next few weeks, it will be the government backbench “lobby fodder” that will have to do the lion’s share of facing up and responding to the anger of those adversely affected by this legislation. They will also be the ones challenged to explain why they supported it. Ministers, meanwhile, will have shifted their attention to the Budget due at the end of May. Between now and then, as is customary, there will be an ever-increasing drip-feed of announcements from Ministers about the good things they have secured in this Budget.

But for the government backbenchers, the same old grind will continue. Once they have weathered the storm over the pay equity legislation, they will need to gear up to support and explain the Budget in its entirety, despite having had a similarly minimal input into its development. And all the while they will be focused on convincing their constituents that they are personally having an impact on what the government is doing and are therefore worth re-electing next year.

For some, the motivation will be a noble belief that their government is always right. For others it will be a case of proving their loyalty to the team and willingness to take the good with the bad, in the hope that one day they will become Ministers. Then they really will be able to have a proactive and meaningful impact on what the government is doing.