Green Day

The Greens are coming for Labour… in Wellington, at least.

The standard media take when the dust settled on the local body elections was that NZ had stuck two fingers up to the ‘woke’ government and lurched to the right. The truth, as always, is found in the data: the victories of Brown and Mauger after 12 years of Goff & Len Brown and 9 years of Lianne Dalziel respectively may be nothing more than voters tiring of the centre-left after a long period, rather than any specific issue. Mayoralty races are much less big ticket here than they are in the UK and US, say, where local bodies have more power and responsibility, and mayors in particular have decent mid-sized executive powers. In NZ, they have little more clout than a casting vote. As impressive as Tory Whanau’s rampant win was, she will be relieved to see that a solid progressive majority has also been returned to council – that alone should make it easier for her to get stuff done than the more divided house under Foster.

And once those left-leaning specials came in a few days later, the initially right-leaning compositions of Auckland and Christchurch councils have taken on a more balanced hue. Mauger in particular will have his work cut out to build consensus, when many candidates he endorsed failed to be elected, and many incumbents he criticised were re-elected.

In that sense, Wellington, which has always had a slightly more progressive centre of gravity than the other two major cities anyway, is hardly the out of touch, woke outlier that the more feverish rightwing Twitterati have suggested. Yet something significant happened within that progressive vote, which may hint at something bigger to come.

The Greens’ campaign was, in a word, outstanding – from the mayoralty race right down to the community board level. They ran a fully-endorsed candidate in every ward, including two successful candidates for a GWRC ward – more on that later. Anecdotally from my own campaign observations, they seemed to have more supporters at candidate meetings than Labour, and even more canvassers. Green MPs like Swarbrick and Genter came out door knocking with ward candidates. Tory Whanau made a point of turning up to support Green candidates at their meetings, even when she was not required as mayoral candidate. In contrast, the disconnect between Labour-endorsed Paul Eagle and the Labour candidates was palpable.

And the results are more than just about 6 Greens to 4 Labour. In four wards, the Labour candidate was behind the Green (or 2 Greens in the case of Lambton) on first preferences. [The final results tally of an STV election is misleading because as soon as candidates meet the quota and are elected, their surplus votes are redistributed, meaning that candidates that finish third on first preferences can finish ‘above’ candidates elected earlier – therefore, the voting round at which a candidate is elected indicates the true finishing order].

It was very close, but Nīkau Wi Neera taking the Māori ward from Matthew Reweti, was stunning. The Green party vote in all 7 Māori electorates has often been quite some distance behind the Labour vote, compared to progressive-leaning general electorates (Marama Davidson came fourth in the 2014 Ikaroa-Rāwhiti byelection, for example). It was hard on Reweti and possibly more of a comment on Labour’s decline in national polling, but there is another Green seed that may grow there.

The most astonishing part of the campaign, however, was for the Greater Wellington Regional Council. The received wisdom with STV is that you cannot run two branded party candidates in one ward or area because inevitably one of the two picks up most of the first preferences and the other is left with lots of second preferences but not enough firsts to avoid an early elimination. Indeed, the Greens’ hoarding in my ward openly advocated voting #1 for Thomas Nash and #2 for Yadana Saw. I raised this with Tory Whanau over a coffee, suggesting this was a terrible mistake unless they had some cunning plan to segment the Pōneke ward. Boy, was I wrong. Obviously, in other wards, the branding message was reversed to promote Yadana #1 and Nash #2. Normally that level of geographic voter segmentation requires very careful planning and canvassing.

They totally nailed it. Indeed, they came in 2nd and 3rd place on first preferences (Yadana with 9734 and Nash with 9396), with the top five getting elected. That requires so much disciplined messaging – you have to door knock and/or phone bank every single Green voter and ensure that they get their 1 & 2 preferences the right way round depending on the area. And for those two to beat the sole Labour candidate and incumbent GWRC chair, Daran Ponter, into 4th place, was remarkable.

I can hear the screeching tyres of the caveat cavalry arriving already though. “It’s just a local body election. Labour still have 4 councillors, more than at any time in recent history, despite tough national polling.” This is true, and midterm locals are not always indicative of national level elections. Yet there are now 5 Green or ex-Green councillors plus the mayor. And the Green party vote has been quietly growing in Wellington for some time from election to election. For a long time they have focused on the party vote in general elections, until Chloe Swarbrick managed to take Auckland Central in 2020. That ought to have given them confidence to try and nab a Wellington seat next year. If Julie-Anne Genter was serious when she tweeted that she was planning to contest Rongotai, then you would have to say that the seat is vulnerable and the goal achievable.

With TOP rising in national polling too, and with a clever plan to get an electorate seat in Ilam, there is increasing pressure on Labour from their left and their centre. So it’s hardly a good time to be facing a nasty byelection in Hamilton West, rising inflation and interest rates and lingering pandemic and voter fatigue.

Reflections on a campaign Part II

So, I didn’t make it. Not even close, actually, which is disappointing although as the campaign wore on, I increasingly felt that I wasn’t going to do it anyway. More on that later. My post on Election Day morning detailed some of the issues I have with local body elections and the process, but as I said then, these are not moans and gripes about why I lost, but rather general improvements that would make for a more positive and engaging experience for candidates and voters.

One notion I have to challenge, which has been posited by many progressives in recent days, is that the low turnout was to blame for a swing to the right. Now, I have an issue with low turnout, and with the barmy system whereby the excellent NZ Electoral Commission isn’t used; but low turnout is not the reason Efeso lost in Auckland or Aaron Hawkins lost in Dunedin. Phil Goff won comfortably three years ago, on a similarly low turnout. And Tory Whanau managed one of the most comprehensive wins in ages, with a turnout of 45% compared to the usual 40% – hardly an earth-shattering increase.

Would have got a landslide on any turnout

There is this common trope that low turnout hurts the left more than the right, and that if only everybody voted, we would have progressive governments for ever hallelujah. Not true. Well, not always. Just think about it: voters who choose not to vote are likely to be the least politically engaged and the least ideologically committed. Assuming that they are just lost tribes of left voters waiting to come home is fanciful – they are just as likely to opt for the right. That said, the long queues in Auckland trying to cast a special vote were shameful. We need to change the system for reasons of equity of access. And the sinister efforts in the US to suppress voter turnout are aimed squarely at left-leaning voter blocs. But a higher turnout here might not have made any difference to the outcome at all.

On the other hand, I think rightwing commentators have been hasty in proclaiming this a “massive swing to the right”. This was not the case in Wellington, nor that bastion of wokeness, er (checks notes), Hamilton. And as special votes roll in, and the composition of the council changes, Auckland’s young tyro mayor Wayne Brown is likely facing a narrowly progressive council, and his voting power is no greater than theirs – looks like a fun three years in store up there!

Grandpa Simpson will have his work cut out corralling a narrowly left-leaning council

So what happened, in the words of Hillary Clinton’s infamous post-mortem book? Firstly, this was a ridiculously competitive ward: eleven candidates! That’s more than for nearly every electorate race in the 2020 general election. Worse still, three candidates also ran for mayor. It seems clear that running for mayor as well as your local ward gives you a lift in your home ward. It certainly helped perennial also-ran Ray Chung. After trying haplessly so many times, his blunt, no-nonsense approach was a winning combo this time – to give him his due, he could rattle off figures in candidate meetings about what he considered wasteful spending.

Also, to the surprise of many, the legendarily low council approval rating of 12% did not lead to a bonfire of incumbents. Only one incumbent lost her seat – the excellent Jenny Condie. That was another blow to wannabe insurgents like myself. It seems as though red/green voters cleaved to the safety of the Labour & Green brands, while the committed NIMBY / boomer vote just piled up in Chung and Calvert’s column. I no doubt picked up a lot of 2nd and 3rd preferences, but they are hopeless if you are too far behind on 1st preferences, as I was. The amazing transferable powers of STV are really overstated. In most STV elections, the leader(s) on first preferences usually win, unless it’s super close.

Finally, in what was a fractious campaign, I simply got squeezed. My team of canvassers were excellent, but far fewer in number than what Labour and the Greens could muster. My strongest skills – public speaking and debating – shone through at the candidate meetings. Unfortunately, few undecided voters attend these meetings. And that’s that. But I enjoyed it, and learnt a lot of ideas for TOP going forward. What’s that saying they tell you at school? It’s not the winning, it’s the losing that counts!

Reflections on a campaign Part I

As the clock ticks past noon, and voting closes, I thought I had better compile a few thoughts on my experience before results start to trickle in.

I’m not going to comment on how I think I will do, nor how other key races such as the mayoralty will pan out – we will all know soon enough. My focus is on my experience – the positive and the not so positive. I will do a post-mortem style post tomorrow, when the provisional results are in and my fate is clear.

Firstly, I would absolutely recommend running for public office to anyone. Engaging with your fellow citizens in this way may seem daunting, but it is an incredible learning experience, and much less challenging than one might think. Disclaimer: I did a doorknocking, commission-only sales job for a few months, when I first washed up on these shores as a backpacker nearly two decades ago – I figured that if I could manage that, then asking strangers to consider voting for me would be a lot easier than asking them to part with money.

Indeed, the most encouraging aspect of political canvassing is that most voters, even if they are busy, or indifferent towards your particular values and policies, are nonetheless rarely rude or hostile. The old adage that voters above all just want to be listened to and understood is a powerful truth. Some people will definitely vote for me purely because I knocked on their door and had a thoughtful korero with them, irrespective of their own ideologies or concerns – it is much less about persuasion as presence. I am also hugely grateful to my small but dedicated team of doorknockers. When people are prepared to traipse around the streets of Karori and Khandallah, giving up their time because they believe in you as a candidate, it is humbling – thank you!

The one plus of an election with an apathetic and disappointing turnout, that looks on course to be not much greater than the usual 40%, is that candidates who are prepared to put in the hard mahi are at the very least respected for that. That said, we have to take steps to improve voter engagement at the local level, especially when our general election turnout is so consistently high compared to the rest of the OECD. My suggestion: let the NZ Electoral Commission run all of these in future, instead of a hodge-podge of private companies and a mix of first-past-the-post and STV. Bring back Orange Guy, polling day, proper polling booths and ease of access to special votes, instead of relying, ludicrously, on the declining and capricious NZ postal system. Far too many voters never received their packs in time. Yes, this will cost councils more, but what price a proper democracy? Frankly, the cost should be borne by central government IMO – it’s too important.

Bring him back!

And so, the most depressing aspect was not boomer homeowners loudly denouncing my pro-density stance, nor the cat-loving, Gareth Morgan hating person who kept passively-aggressively taking down one of my hoardings (the only real negative of being a TOP candidate), but the sheer number who had little to no awareness of or interest in the election full stop. My opening question was always the same: what is your main concern in these forthcoming elections? The golden rule of canvassing, like selling or dating, is to get the other person talking so that they open up. But this question stumped so many people, that even after I suggested ideas based on what others had said, I sensed that they would remain unlikely to vote, and so it will likely prove.

The only other real negative was the candidate meetings. I’m told by more experienced campaigners than me that this has been one of the prickliest and nastiest local body elections. Certainly, the pandemic that has spawned such groups as Voices for Freedom and their ilk, who have been most responsible for heckling and hijacking questions from the floor to push their agenda, has not helped matters. This is a shame because the format absolutely played to my strengths – as a teacher and debating coach, I enjoyed this aspect more than most candidates. I even earned the respect of a number of attendees who were very hostile to the contentious 3 Waters legislation, but who understood that the problem it seeks to fix is unavoidable and pressing, after hearing me speak. Even if I did not get their first preference vote, I feel I have helped advance the idea that a centralised system of providing water infrastructure, as happens in most other OECD countries with better outcomes in terms of quality, supply and investment, is better than the fragmented and highly variable structure we have now.

But enough about policy – in future, it might be better if candidate meetings are co-ordinated by the council in larger venues, with a tighter structure: allow each candidate a short stump speech, and then put to each in turn questions on a range of important topics, with the opportunity for audience members to engage privately with candidates at the end.

Overall though, it has been a welcome distraction from what has been a tough year for me personally. I’d been thinking about a run for most of the year, but the stress from other things going on in my life had given me pause. I’m grateful to my friends who have encouraged and supported me, especially the students and parents in my school community; to hear that so many of them have said they would vote for me essentially because of their respect for my job and my reputation is the most sincere appreciation a teacher could hope to receive.

I have thoroughly enjoyed the journey. Whatever the result, as my dad always says, the only true test of the value of an experience is whether you would do it again, and I absolutely would.

A few little local issues

So I decided to run, and I did. After years of amateur political punditry, but also a sense of never really putting my money where my mouth is, I now drive past a 2.4 x 1.2m image of my face every day, smiling enigmatically away towards the northwest. Weird at first, but now normal.

And now, with less than a week to go, I suddenly remembered my old political / satirical blog and pulled it out of hibernation to share some thoughts on the experience, and advice for those still undecided. Of course, if you are undecided, you should vote for me – there’s a helpful reason after each section 🙂 Here are three non-policy issues I’ve noticed…

Problem #1: If it sounds too good to be true, it is.

Also known as the “No such thing as a free lunch” argument. Beware the classic spin of fixing infrastructure while keeping rates low and cutting waste – it’s just an empty cliche. There is one candidate in my ward, who shall remain nameless, who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing. Their schtick, at literally every candidate meeting, has been to list every example of council spending that they would cut, including dear old Khandallah Pool. The Khandallah Pool upgrade is priced at $8m: a significant cost in the mind of the average voter, but actually chump change compared to the behemoth of infrastructure spending required in the medium to long term.

And this is where the real hidden problem lies. Local councils own about a third of all public assets in NZ, but they take only 7% of the revenue from rates, charges and investments. This is just not sustainable, and is why lazy / stressed / incompetent councils have kicked the investment and maintenance can down the depreciation road. A promise to fix infrastructure, while cutting arts and amenities funding for instance, to keep rates low, is a bit like promising to fix a leaky home by selling a few expensive light fittings. It’s dishonest, disingenuous and some other dis-word I can’t quite think of. Whatever – exercise scepticism towards such claims.

And if you’re fed up with Wellington’s busted pipes, spare a thought for a sparsely-populated, rural council that can barely take enough rates to maintain its roads, let alone its water infrastructure. There are never any votes in pipes maintenance until the sewage is literally running down the streets. There has to be some recognition that central government needs to step in with its economies of scale and greater ability to borrow and invest. Three Waters has plenty of opponents, but the problem it is trying to fix is real and won’t go away.

Why me? I will run the ruler of fairness, sustainability and affordability over all spending – that’s not a promise about the size of spending, just a promise to ensure its costs and benefits are properly and clearly explained.

Problem #2: Names and affiliations are not the issue – policies and values are

An especially pointless and irritating side debate has been the needling around whether official party endorsement or ‘independence’ is better. One voter on the doorstep brilliantly and unwittingly skewered this nonsense when she said to me: “I don’t like council candidates running under a party banner, and I don’t like National party candidates pretending they’re independent!” Oh, the delightful inconsistencies of voters, eh?

There is no need to gatekeep how candidates present themselves. A TOP, Labour or Green candidate does not think they are putting the party over what’s best for the city, because if they sign up for that party’s policies and values, they presumably believe that they are best for the city! Likewise, an Independent label should not automatically be seen as something dishonest or covert – many candidates care passionately about their city, and genuinely have no particular ideological home. Just don’t believe the hype that independence always confers a more pragmatic view. It’s just a label. Peel it off, listen to and read what they say and if they’re an incumbent, examine their past actions. And those who have tried to hide their agenda, such as Voices For Freedom people, have been outed as often as possible, by a bold question from the floor at a candidate meeting, or via the livewire grapevine of Twitter.

Why me? I’m proud to run under the TOP banner, because our only article of faith is to promote sensible, fair, evidence-based decision making and policies. That’s it. Check out our latest policy launch if you don’t believe me.

Problem #3: It’s the turnout, stupid.

Not the economy. Or the social issues. Nor is it just pipes, potholes, parks and pools. These elections, and therefore the policy and spending direction for the next triennium, are decided by the 40% of electors who bother to vote. And despite repeated pleas from (some) candidates and the media, classic Kiwi voter apathy seems to have gripped the nation once again. Auckland is currently on track for an even lower turnout than 2019.

Worse still, the turnout is skewed towards older voters of a property-owning and ratepaying demographic – it’s not surprising that anti-density and “lower rates” candidates do well. Needless to say, renters who are unhappy with their lot really need to get out and vote to change this trend – just do it!

Why? Smaller scale elections do generally have less pull for voters. But our general election turnout is damn good, by comparison at upwards of 80%. I would advocate for all local elections to be run by the Electoral Commission, with proper (and more) polling booths, easier voting accessibility, especially for special votes, and much more promotion and encouragement via all forms of media.

So, a few observations about the campaigning in general. Tomorrow, I’ll recount a few positive and negative stories of my own experience.

Sorted for Housing and Wizz

Housing: how the hell did it come to this? Once upon a time in the 50s, a newly-installed Minister for Housing would survey the drab features of his portfolio (for it was surely a he), seething with resentment that the hoped-for reshuffle riches of a glamorous stint in Foreign Affairs had not come his way. Aside from the occasional controversy around compulsory acquisition, nothing was less sexy, less controversial. You just had to make sure enough state houses were built, and a non-crazily priced market would take care of the remaining demand. Easy.

Now, well, it would have been better if Jacinda had declared a housing emergency rather than one on climate change. For those Kiwis who want the financial and social comfort of owning their own home, but who simply cannot, the sense of drowning while others are happily seated on buoyant rafts as the tide rises, must be wretchedly infuriating.

Economists like to warn sagely that this is an unsustainable bubble; that it is ridiculously overheated; that if we don’t do something planned to address supply and demand, a brutal correction will do it for us. In a morass of lies, empty promises and theoretical bullshit, this is the biggest whopper of them all. House prices are never coming down.

Investing in housing: a bigger high than heroin and you never come down.

Yes, yes, yes, I know: bubbles always burst. Think tulips, the South Sea Company, Enron and Lehman Brothers. Yet all of these bubbles were driven by illusory demand. Tulips are not poppies or crocuses, rich in expensive heroin or saffron. As soon as enough investors reached their emperor’s new clothes moment and realised that tulips are just moderately pretty flowers, the whole rotten edifice of mad speculation collapsed, spectacularly, in 1637. Enron’s stock was vastly overpriced because it was essentially lying about its profitability, in a sophisticated and confusing way that fooled many for a long time. And so it goes with housing, according to just about everybody: houses are overpriced.

But they are not. The value of anything is not about anything more intrinsic than the value people put on it. If someone bids $1m for a dilapidated shoebox in Auckland, that is what it is worth. The ‘lucky’ owners will not set foot in their new purchase and feel an immediate pang of buyer’s remorse, even if it is the doer-upper to crown all doer-uppers. They will feel a surging wave of relief that they have managed to land on the right side of the property-owning divide. They will renovate, decorate, invest and secure for the ultimate goal of property without cost in their dotage. And it is the height of hypocrisy for propertied politicians and commentators to suggest that this is wrong. It is arguably the simplest form of prudent and effective personal economics that a populace can manage. The only trouble is: fewer and fewer of us can afford to do it.

If you don’t believe me, ask Jacinda. When she says ‘sustained moderation’, she simply means she wants to stop prices accelerating out of control, not remaining static, or god forbid, falling. Her spin is an honest admission that Labour is already running the white flag at trying to curb exploding property prices.

A lot of policy solutions have focused on demand. This is a mistake. Demand for housing is as insatiable as a British prince at an Epstein party. Labour and the Greens have toyed with a capital gains tax, although the government has since ruled it out – a wise decision given that other countries with a capital gains tax like Australia are faced with similarly horrendous house prices. TOP’s property tax is the best of these proposed solutions, although their website wryly notes that it may only calm prices somewhat. Its best feature is that it spreads the tax base and encourages investment away from the sugar high of property. But it cannot address property inequality alone, because of the sheer determination of people to own their own home.

No. The elephant in the room is supply. There are not enough houses for people to buy in the most popular places to live. Pointing out that there are bargains to be had in Eketahuna and Twizel is less than useless (no offence to those fine places). Places are popular because they are rich in the jobs and amenities that existing property owners adore. And this is where the supposed welcoming friendliness of New Zealanders seems ugly and suspect. The chorus of disapproval when even the most modest housing development is mooted is nothing short of selfish and disgusting.

$150,000 in Eketahuna; $1.5m in Epsom

Choose from any of the following patronising tropes: the proposed dwellings are detrimental to the ‘character’ or ‘charm’ of the neighbourhood; the consultation process is inadequate (read: I didn’t have enough chance to rally all my bourgeois chums to write angry emails to councillors); there’s no housing shortage – it’s just those pesky Chinese buying everything, too many migrants (when they’re done stealing jobs from Kiwis), whining millenials who waste money on soy lattes when they could be saving for a deposit. Yada, yada, yada.

I’d respect them more if they were at least honest and just admitted that they wanted to protect their investment and ensure that the wrong people don’t move in, because that is what these ‘arguments’ amount to in a nutshell. Instead we get passive-aggressive spin.

If you’re reading this, and you’re a property owner like me, you have one shot at redemption. When the latest local district plan unveils a house building proposal in your suburb, instead of complaining, write emails in support. Go along to the public meetings and chastise and heckle your fellow boomers for their myopic selfishness. Wear T-shirts saying “Developers that build homes are sexy”. Or if you can’t quite stomach something so radical, at the very least please shut up.

Red Dawn Rising

Politics, eh? Bloody hell!

There were no shy Tories after all. No late rally. Not even a solid base of provincial blue seats to cushion the blow. Just a Jacinda-shaped tornado and a 30-point swing. Brutal.

Gerry Brownlee’s face was the picture of the night – you’d need a heart of stone not to feel for the guy. The lip sorely wanted to tremble, the eyes threatened to mist over in grief; but the old stager knew that with the cameras rolling and most of the National front bench seemingly AWOL, he had to front up to the media jackals, and wheel out the cliches from the How To Respond When The Electorate Hands You Your Arse On A Plate handbook.

Bigly sad

There was talk of reflecting and reconnecting, but there was at least acceptance of his personal defeat. Judith Collins seems firmly ensconced in the initial stage of grief: denial. Her claim that National’s internal polling had them at nearly 40% just before the second lockdown is either complete bollocks or a sign that National needs a new pollster. Her disingenuous claim that she only put her hand up reluctantly for the leadership role because the party was desperate hardly stacks up, given that she ‘reluctantly’ put her hat in the ring twice before – when John Key and then Bill English resigned. Her naked coveting of the role infuriated her erstwhile colleagues Kaye, Bennett and Adams.

Yet her most preposterous argument emerged today: apparently, all those National voters in rural seats voted Labour tactically to keep the Greens out of government. Yeah, right. Or as Michael Cullen once put it: we won, you lost, eat that.

There are already elements of hubris in this defeat for Judith Collins. In one of the livelier debates, she scoffed at Jacinda’s suggestion that politics didn’t have to be a bloodsport. “Bring it on!” yelled Crusher. So Ardern, with a shrug, dusted off the stardust, and watched her newly-expanded caucus and army of loyal activists feast on the National carcass. The blood on the floor is all blue, and if it were sport, the fight would have been stopped at about 8pm. The supposed firewall of rural and provincial citadels fell quickly and meekly: Rangitata, Wairarapa, East Coast. Chris Bishop’s media mates could not save him from the red tsunami, and when a seat as totemic as Ilam turns red, well goodness…

This result probably bodes well for Joe Biden

Let’s face it: the final polling underestimated the left vote. The last 5 polls were 3% too low for Labour and 5% too high for National. Apply that to the US Presidential election and Biden would be looking at a double digit landslide. What’s that, you say? US pollsters are different from NZ pollsters? Well, not really. In a globalised world, political parties and political analysts all talk to each other. After getting it wrong with Brexit, Trump 2016 and Australia last year by underestimating the turnout among certain demographics, it’s quite plausible that the pollsters here had overcorrected. The record estimates turnout of 83% suggests that the long awaited leftwing youthquake did make an appearance. And many older white National voters probably just stayed home in stoic acceptance of the inevitable defeat.

Fingers crossed: only two more weeks of this orange bumclown, folks

It ought to get worse for National before it gets better

The special votes tend to lean left. Three years ago, in a much more evenly-balanced election between left and right blocs, National lost three further seats when the specials came in. Shane Reti is extremely unlikely to hold on to Whangarei with a wafer-thin majority of 142. The Nats will be similarly nervous about Maungakiekie, Invercargill and even Northland, all with majorities well below 1000.

Collins has commissioned a review of her party’s campaign. That’s worth an ironic cheer of its own given how much she has excoriated Labour for its reviews and working groups. And she has already hobbled it by declaring that policies were not to blame. Yes they were. Leaving aside Paul Goldsmith’s shonky Maths, only the most tone deaf rightwing party would fixate on reducing crown debt as the keystone of their Covid recovery. When a ‘socialist’ like Boris Johnson is spending money like water to keep UK Plc afloat, and with unemployment off the scale globally, talk of living within means is a pretty grotesque misreading of the room.

It will be interesting to see the post-election demographic breakdown when it comes out. I’m picking Jacinda to be the first Labour leader since Kirk or even Fraser to win among over 65s. The dismissive tone of many rightwing commentators, decrying the need for lockdowns and airily declaring that only already sick elderly were at risk from Covid, was a pretty contemptuous two fingers to the most solid tranche of National voters in the country.

Politics UFC Bloodsport Champion

Labour should seriously consider a coalition with the Greens anyway

Make no mistake, Labour has its own mandate. But John Key reached out to the Maori Party when he didn’t really need their votes, feeling that it would make him look consultative and inclusive. And many of the policies that were stymied by NZ First in the last three years were policies championed by both Labour and the Greens, such as Auckland light rail. After such an amazing night for the left, why not send a strong message of unity and cooperation? And finally, allowing James Shaw to continue as Climate Change Minister is just perfect trolling of grumpy old farmers.

This result is seismic. The only other comparable swing I have witnessed was Blair in 1997. And Jacinda is just as ruthless. Labour’s relatively light policy platform, which irritated the media and the opposition, was simply a smart calculation that Labour was in a strong position because of her leadership and communication rather than ideology, policy or delivery. So why open up another flank for attack in a debate? It left National and Collins chasing the game, and ultimately chasing their tails.

Survivor: the National Party edition

And so farewell, Bill English. No more stupid snaps on Twitter of him grinning over a spaghetti-topped pizza. No more inane photocalls to ‘liven up’ his image. No more celebrity boxing matches. Politics is often a shallow business: this is unsurprising, if you consider how fickle and shallow most of the electorate’s grasp of policies actually is. It is also why gobshite populists often thrive, sadly. And this is what makes the step from nerdy policy wonk to Prime Minister a difficult one. If, for good or ill, as diverse a bunch as Kirk, Muldoon, Lange, Bolger, Clark, Key and Ardern all had or have that wretchedly indefinable quality of “X factor”, to Bill English, the phrase probably just meant a lowbrow piece of reality TV that his kids might have enjoyed. At his resignation presser, flanked by his family, you could almost see a few brown hairs had come back. Now he could take on a new challenge, untrammeled by the thankless task of being Leader of the Opposition. I am sure he could compare notes with Andrew Little on the restorative health benefits of quitting the Worst Job In Politics.

No longer interested in a pizza the leadership action.

Whatever one thinks of his political and social beliefs, English at least showed a willingness to think the unthinkable, and base it on evidence, such as his infamous quote that “prisons are a fiscal and moral failure”. This is not infamous, of course, to any progressive who has long understood the utter failure, social and economic, of ‘easy’, tough guy, custodial solutions that much of our corrections system offers. But for the National faithful, for whom prison is a deserved moral outcome for wrongdoers, and no two ways about it, this would have caused more than a little disquiet. Garth McVicar screeched ‘betrayal’. Even his flagship Social Investment Agency always seemed something that many of his colleagues liked to champion to the media without walking the walk, so to speak.

But Bill snatched defeat from the jaws of victory last spring, and the buck had to stop there. His decision to call it a day was his to make, but only so long as he made it, sooner rather than later, before the 2020 election. And around 11am today, his successor will be chosen.

To say this leadership election is uncharted territory is a huge understatement. David Farrar thinks that the fact that five candidates have chucked their hat in the ring is a positive for National as it opens the debate. Certainly, a ‘proper’ contest is taken by political parties as a sign of good health. But the truth is, wide open contests like this are rarely a good sign. They are also rare.

Virtually every change of leader National have ever had has involved a replacement rolling an incumbent or a straight two-horse race when a leader has stepped down. The one exception, when Muldoon fought on after his 1984 snap election loss, and stood against McLay and Bolger, hardly counts, as Piggy was a busted flush with most of his caucus colleagues by this point, and was obstinately trying to save some face. The benefit of this is that a clear winner is anointed who has sufficient momentum to see off potential rivals for the medium term.

Labour, too, have historically had either caucus coups to depose a struggling leader, or a no contest coronation (Goff succeeding Clark). The recent exceptions, when the party changed the rules to allow ordinary members and affiliates a say, illustrate the point I am trying to make. David Cunliffe cultivated a lot of support from ordinary members but was loathed by his caucus – a recipe for infighting culminating in Labour’s nadir of 25% in 2014. The election that produced Andrew Little as leader was nailbitingly close, and so there was always a sense of doubt as to whether Labour had got the right guy. Labour knew the public had tired of leadership contests, and so they showed admirable public support for Little, but it did not show in the polls until his replacement with Ardern: a good old-fashioned retirement to the study with revolver and whisky, followed by an emphatic coronation of his successor.

Bucks Fizz haven’t aged well. The National caucus are now “making their mind up”.

Whoever wins today – and the smart money says it is a toss-up between Bridges and Adams – will call for unity. But unity emerges from successful leadership, and not the other way around. And the elephant in the room is Judith Collins. She is a formidable opponent with a strong level of support among National grassroots (just read the comments on Kiwiblog and WhaleOil if you have the stomach for it). Yet, she has too many caucus enemies and too few friends, and so her candidacy, like Mitchell’s and Joyce’s is about raising or maintaining profile for frontbench place. Or, like Cunliffe, going directly over the heads of her caucus colleagues and pitching herself to the grassroots. She wouldn’t connive to get the rules changed to allow members a say in future contests, would she?

This is where it gets interesting: if the winner feels obligated to offer plum roles to his or her defeated opponents, it reduces the scope for rewarding one’s supporters. And yet leaving someone like Collins out in the cold is also dangerous. For once, the size of National’s caucus is an issue here: too many MPs with ambition will be sitting on the sidelines, watching and waiting.

There is also the prospect that this contest will bring National’s ideological tussle bubbling to the surface. John Key kept the lid on this effortlessly with strong leadership and high polling. But parties are simply less inclined to show self-discipline in opposition. Without the focus of governance and ministerial responsibility, MPs and members feel they have more luxury to consider the best ideological foot forward, and that is when the infighting starts.

National have always dismissed ideological infighting as a disease of the left, conveniently forgetting that the last stoush between the socially progressive neolibs and more Muldoonist interventionist conservatives led to a certain W. Peters walking out of the party in 1993. Get out your popcorn and watch it all unfold.

 

A tale of two stadia

Six months since my last post – ouch! Apologies to my thousands hundreds two dozen admirers casual followers, but there was the little matter of an arduous yet ultimately successful election campaign (more of that in a later post) and then a long Christmas sojourn in Blighty and Singapore (more of that later too).

But all my gloating on FaceBook at being stuck on an equatorial island basking in 30 deg. over New Year, cut no ice with joyous Wellingtonians living the dream of Wellington-on-a-good-day every damn day of this summer. The one time Welly bakes in Auckland-esque sultriness, I’m overseas – typical.

So now I’m back, the natural thing to do was a visit to the cricket – well, two actually. I didn’t plan sporting gluttony, but after enjoying the Black Caps thrash a hapless Pakistan at the Basin on the Friday, I thought I might as well enjoy the Black Caps thrash a hapless Pakistan in the T20 at the Cake Tin too.

Two great results (from an NZ perspective, obv), but two quite different ambiences. And it’s the vibe of the thing, as Dennis Denuto might say, that prompted this post.

The Basin has come under fire in recent years. The player facilities are not particularly first class, let alone Test class, apparently. NZ Cricket were so ashamed that those connoisseurs of class, the Barmy Army, might turn their noses up at the Basin’s rather tired fabric, that they scheduled a day-night affair for the first Test at glitzy Eden Park – the suburban ground that’s always been a bit identity-fluid between rugby venue and cricket venue. Dire warnings were issued that if the grand old Basin didn’t tidy itself up with a haircut and a revamp, it might not host a ‘top’ side again…

Stung by this criticism, from torpor into a sort of mild lethargy, there have been some modest changes. Well, actually, the end result is excellent. Food and drink, often historically a poor choice at Kiwi stadia, is superb. A mini precinct was created by temporarily closing the little bit of the roundabout that passes directly in front of the main gate, and putting down a piece of astroturf. This was then filled with a delectable range of food trucks – Greek food, Churros, gourmet burgers, craft beer – where Fritz’s Wieners was perhaps the least imaginative of the bunch. And with a good clutch of them, the queues moved quickly.

Wellington on a good day, squared.

In contrast, the Cake Tin fare was still grimly predictable: manky chips, petrol station pies and hot dogs. Our new arrival from Switzerland was mortified by the sausage-on-a-stick hotdog he mistakenly ordered: I tried to reassure him that had he stipulated the American hotdog he was hoping for, it wouldn’t have tasted much better. We were fortuitously close enough to the concourse bar, where one could at least purchase Chomp beer. For most of the plebs, it was a Hobson’s Choice of Tui or Heineken Light.

The food situation is insuperable for Westpac Stadium: there is a need to have a single onsite caterer (Spotless) for all the corporate catering. Their contract understandably precludes parachuting in Macca’s or Hell, let alone more gourmet food trucks, apart from the ubiquitous Fritz’s, which usually sells out well before the end of play anyway. Nor do I think the service or management is bad. There is a refreshment place by every other aisle, and so the queues were not long. But if the alternative is firing up the BBQ at home and putting on the big TV for its excellent, detailed coverage, I can see why many don’t bother. There is a closeness to the cricket at the Basin which can’t be replicated by TV.

At least you’re not really required to stay in your allotted seat.

This isn’t really a problem for football codes. There’s only really enough time during the match to grab a few beers and some chips anyway. But when the shortest format of cricket weighs in at plus three hours, the customer experience needs more care and consideration.

The main issue, however, seems to be that Wellingtonians (well, the ones that like cricket) are making their preference plain. The crowd for the T20 was a lowly 8,500. In a 35,000 capacity stadium that makes for a lot of empty seats. There were at least as many at the Basin if not more; or at least it felt that way, and the atmosphere was somehow more substantial. Furthermore, Monday was a public holiday and a required commitment of just 3 hours, while Friday was a working day for many for a full-day ODI. Still, the Basin seemed to be where it was at, so to speak.

Nor is it the format: I’ve seen the Basin three-quarters full for a weekday Super Smash T20 game, commencing at 4pm, which had nothing riding on it because Wellington were unable to qualify for the playoffs. An earlier fixture featuring big Jesse Ryder tonking sixes was played on a mild Saturday evening to just a few hundred spectators at an eerie, echoing Westpac. Perhaps the most damning evidence is that NZ Cricket has been signalling its intent by moving most domestic matches and more and more internationals to smaller ’boutique’ stadia, largely to make the smaller crowds look better. The quintessential Kiwi cricket experience is found at the Basin, Pukekura Park, University Oval and the like. I doubt Kiwis will ever embrace live cricket attendance in the same numbers as Aussies or Poms: 80,000 turned out at Etihad (or whatever it’s called these days) to watch the Melbourne Stars play crap again in the BBL. Cricket certainly matters to Kiwis – just not with the intensity that rugby does.

There is even scope for relatively inexpensive improvement. If Wellington can ever come to any agreement on the transport ‘solution’ around the Basin, a mild reboot of the venue is surely worth factoring in: floodlights, a strengthened Museum stand, some more covered areas and competitive stand pricing for those who don’t want to melt on the bank. The ‘Gabba even has a pool, although a cluster of hireable hot tubs might be more suitable for the cooler Wellington climate.

Oh yes. Definitely.

Oh look – I seem to have indulged in my annual Cake Tin hatchet job again. I don’t wish to rub further salt in: its location and facilities are still light years ahead of rickety, exposed Athletic Park. And it has hosted some cracking events in recent years – AB Tests, the odd Warriors game, the Bahrain qualifier, the Sevens in its heyday, Elton John, Bowie in the rain and that England v. NZ Cricket World Cup match – but it just isn’t cricket anymore for me. The wisdom of hindsight only fuels pointless regret, but the decision to build the Cake Tin as an oval, rugby-cricket composite stadium without a roof was probably a mistake. Such multi-sport stadia are quite normal in Oz, but only really in the AFL states, where both summer and winter sports are supposed to be played on the same size field anyway. And the weather is consistently better.

Ominously, WCC are looking seriously at a new, medium-sized indoor arena to bring more entertainment acts to Wellington, with opportunities for netball and basketball. When you consider that Guns ‘n’ Roses came this close to canning their last gig at the Cake Tin due to the swirling wind and drizzle that is hardly unusual for Welly, it’s not hard to see more events being lost. Even for football, league and rugby, one often feels too far away from the action. Yet the costs of installing a roof or converting the stadium to a rectangular one are prohibitive, and much more costly than my suggestions above for improving the Basin.

The resolution of how best to use, manage and improve Wellington’s group of sporting and entertainment facilities will surely keep the councillors’ thinking caps on for quite some time. I’m just not sure that cricket has a worthwhile future at Westpac Stadium.

Jacinda Ardern to be new Dr. Who

Consternation is mounting among political nerds that the latest incarnation of the TV timelord will be a woman. While some have praised the decision, others are less than impressed.

“She may well be charismatic and have youth appeal, but what’s going to happen when she is faced with real challenges on a cosmic scale,” moaned Ol’ White Guy in a tweet. “You need experience, and what has she done exactly? I mean, if Frank Bainimarama starts throwing his weight around, will she have the balls to use her sonic screwdriver.”

Jacinda’s famous toothy smile

Outgoing Doctor Andrew Little wished his successor all the best, and said he was proud to have piloted the TARDIS for a few episodes. “The dematerialisation circuit’s a bit of a mess (we can’t seem to change the colour away from blue, for example), but our internal systems are holding up fine. I’m sure Jacinda is the one to reverse the poll-arity and get us back to where we should be heading,” he said.

Speculation had been rife that Little might quit after polls showed the timelord over 20% behind the evil Daleks. Supreme Dalek Bill English, whose party has enjoyed unprecedented success largely by promising not to exterminate people, said he was up for the challenge. “I know what it feels like to be polling in the low 20s, so we thought we’d cut out seeking galactic domination and try a bit of social investment instead, and it worked,” he said. “To be honest, I’m a bit jealous. I’d love to borrow the TARDIS to send Todd Barclay back to the Stone Age.”

Bill English: ‘not worried’

The final straw for some had been the decision to bring dozens of new time-travelling companions over from other countries without checking there was sufficient room for them in the TARDIS. “The TARDIS is certainly bigger on the inside than the outside, but it’s not that big,” a spokesperson admitted.

The Master was unavailable for official comment, although he was happy to chat over a beer or seven in the Backbencher. “A change of Doctor certainly doesn’t alter our bottom lines: either immigration gets cut or the universe gets it,” he growled menacingly.

Peter Dunne was relieved. “When I was the Doctor I wore natty bow ties. It was my trademark. So I’m pleased Jacinda’s got the role because she doesn’t strike me as a bow tie wearing person, and it’s all about me obviously.”

Peter Dunne

Jacinda gave a positive first speech, stressing the need for unity and for Labour Gallifrey to get back to what it does best: saving the universe from the forces of neoliberalism. When quizzed as to whether this would look like a last minute, desperate move, Jacinda flashed a smile and said, “but the Doctor always saves the day right at the last minute. Why change the habit of a lifetime?”

 

 

 

An open letter to Mrs. May, MP (not PM)

Dear Maggie

Ah no, not Maggie. Maggie May is just a song by Rod Stewart. You thought you were a Maggie Mk II (that Maggie), but you’re just a poor imitation, a sort of Poundshop Thatcher. Sure, there are the snazzy M&S suits and the occasional blue handbag, but the similarities end there, I’m afraid. All soundbite over substance, as Mr. Blair wouldn’t say.

So, Dear Theresa

Voters, eh? Bloody hell!

Pollsters, eh? Double bloody hell!

Your face was a picture on Friday. It reminded me of the face of Boris’s on June 23rd last year. Nasty surprises are always more entertaining for everyone else, of course, but I’m not getting a sympathetic vibe for you from anyone: right now I’d say you are about as popular as the Pope in a Loyalist pub in Belfast.

Speaking of which, it must be pretty galling having to do a deal with Britain’s answer to the Westboro Baptist Church. So when you criticised Jeremy Corbyn (well, when your mates in the press did) for his dialogue with the IRA in the 80s, what we didn’t realise at the time was that it was only his particular choice of Northern Irish extremists that irked you. So long as they have a Union Jack in their logo, their batshit creationism, anti-abortion and anti-gay rhetoric, and former links to UDA paramilitaries are all tickety boo, presumably.

Have you tried the bacon sandwiches? Deliciously strong and stable.

And those nice people in the Dinosaur Unionist Party will take some bribing negotiating with, won’t they? They’ll want shiny new hospitals and roads and whatnot. But that’s OK because we can just pay for it with your magic money tree. You know, the one you kept banging on about during your ‘campaign’. That same awesome tree has just shelled out about 140 million for this political masterstroke almighty cock-up. Indeed, the electorate enjoyed it so much, we’ll probably have to splash 140m on another one later in the year. All of the above was impeccably costed in your ‘manifesto’, I’m sure.

There were a few other things you kept banging on about in your electrifying campaign. Something about stability, I think. And a red, white and blue Brexit. It sounds very whizzy. I’m sure it was meant to appeal to the youth who turned out to endorse it in record numbers. I mean they must have done, mustn’t they? Their heads can’t possibly have been turned by the chance to go to university without saddling themselves with large debts. Let no one say you have a tin ear for the wishes of the electorate.

And so you made the campaign all about you and your team – an understandable strategy given your charismatic personality, your soft skills, your warm rapport with the people.

This is a school and these are children, Theresa. Not lepers. Or Marxist saboteurs. HTH.

So it must have been more than a little annoying to see so many voters go for the other guy: Mr. Corbyn – an inoffensive looking chap who seemed to have wandered away absently from his allotment into the political maelstrom. You wasted no time in labelling him (or getting your nice friend Mr. Dacre to label him) ‘Jezbollah’ and a frightful Marxist. You even suggested that all his promises were an unaffordable wishlist of pie-in-the-sky nonsense that would wreck the economy. The trouble with this line is that your cherished Brexit is also an unaffordable bit of pie-in-the-sky nonsense that will wreck the economy, and so here we are.

But it was all worth it in the end, and that’s what counts, yes? What was it you wanted? A mandate. I recall there was a cheap, pungent 80s aftershave called Mandate. I used to wear it in the vain hope it would attract the opposite sex. Perhaps giving someone like you a mandate was similarly repulsive to too many voters, which is a real shame because when you’re not barking inanities about Brexit, you have one or two ideas which aren’t at all bad for a Tory. You got them from your adviser, the guy with the bushy beard, to be fair. Something about trying to protect industries in the Midlands and the North, and making the elderly make a greater contribution to the costs of their aged care rather than kicking the can down the road and dumping it all on the overworked and underpaid.

If Mr. Timothy had been a little more diplomatic in the way he pushed these policies, instead of infuriating your ‘colleagues’ in ‘TeamMay’ with his bullish ego and high-handed style, you might just have started a decent conversation on how on earth we’re going to support the old, and you might just have gone a little way to repairing some of the economic pain and decline suffered by those regions. You must remember that. It was wrought by your heroine, your idol, back in the good old days of the 80s when Tory majorities grew on trees and election campaigns were tiresome interludes to be endured. Instead, poor old Rasputin Nick’s political corpse is drifting in the Neva, an expendable victim of your ego.

It’s not Little Red Riding Hood, it’s the Big Bad (toothless) Wolf

So, what now? The proverbial glass of whisky and revolver in the library, I suppose. You could always console yourself with a quick listen to your Desert Island Discs choices. One of them was ABBA’s Dancing Queen: allow yourself one last wistful thought of gliding across the world’s stage in those kitten heels. A more fitting choice would be The Winner Takes It All. As the next line goes, the loser has to fall. And even though you ‘won’, you lost really.