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| Dr Oliver Hartwich | Executive Director | oliver.hartwich@nzinitiative.org.nz | ||||||||||||
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The same anger is loose across the democratic world, the product of a decade of crises that squeezed household budgets and loosened party loyalties. What it does to each country’s politics depends partly on how votes are counted. In Britain, Nigel Farage’s Reform leads on 27 percent, while the Conservatives and Labour, who once took turns in power, now muster little more than a third between them. First-past-the-post rewards whoever leads in each seat, so a quarter of the vote would hand Reform far more than a quarter of parliamentary seats and possibly a majority. Germany shows a third system producing a different result. The hard-right AfD leads on 29 percent, ahead of the Christian Democrats and Social Democrats, the rough equivalents of our National and Labour. Proportional representation gives the AfD a proportion of seats that matches its vote, but the other parties refuse to govern with it. New Zealand uses Germany’s system, yet our politics looks much calmer than elsewhere. National and Labour are weak by past standards but still hold more than sixty percent combined. New Zealand has faced nothing like the mass, often uncontrolled immigration fuelling anger abroad. Part of the reason is a built-in valve for disquiet. New Zealand First has long played the role of shock absorber, drawing off disquiet and turning it into a moderate parliamentary force able to govern with both sides. There is no guarantee it will always work like that. Britain, Germany and Australia each had a party order that looked permanent. Public anger is genuine, the product of years of watching the cost-of-living climb and of rapid social change. What the populists offer in return, closing borders and intervening in markets, would fix none of it. Political stability rests on something no electoral system can supply. It needs a government that delivers price stability and the prospect of a better life, and voters who see it doing so. That is what a decade of inflation and stagnant incomes stripped from voters elsewhere. Democratic politics must deliver on these bread-and-butter issues. If it does not, voters will look for answers elsewhere, and no electoral system or shock absorber will hold them here. |
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| Dr Michael Johnston | Senior Fellow | michael.johnston@nzinitiative.org.nz | ||||||||||||
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Robertson made those comments when he presented his university’s statement on institutional neutrality, required under the Education and Training Amendment Act 2025. The Act states that “universities, as institutions, should not take public positions on matters that do not directly concern their role or functions.” Argumentation based on evidence and reason moves human understanding closer to truth. But when universities take institutional positions, they put a thumb on the scale of academic debate. Given Robertson’s clear articulation of the need for institutional neutrality, it is ironic that he now appears to have breached the legislation. In a recent email to his university’s staff and students, he made politicised comments on the Legislation (Definitions of Woman and Man) Amendment Bill and the abolition of the fees-free year of study in Budget 2026. Regarding the Definitions Bill, he said, “At a personal level, I find this legislation to be unnecessary and disturbing. As a University, we remain resolute in upholding our commitments to respect and inclusion.” Robertson pivoted from a personal view to an institutional commitment in consecutive sentences. He was communicating as the university’s Chief Executive. The email came from the Vice-Chancellor’s office. Staff and students could easily interpret those comments as meaning the university opposes the bill. If Robertson did not intend that interpretation, he should refrain from sharing his personal views when communicating in his capacity as Vice-Chancellor. The fees-free decision clearly affects university business. The Vice-Chancellor’s public disagreement with it therefore falls within the legislated exception to institutional neutrality. But Robertson crossed a line when he “acknowledged” a protest against the decision and told students, “…the Budget seeks to shift even more of the burden of the cost of education … to you.” Robertson praised students for engaging in political protest. Then he made a political statement, accusing the government of setting out to impose costs on them. As Vice-Chancellor, Robertson should leave his well-known political affiliations at his office door. Unfortunately, the legislation lacks meaningful consequences for breaches. The government should be prepared to give it some teeth. That would help concentrate Vice-Chancellors’ minds. |
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| Nick Clark | Senior Fellow, Economics and Advocacy | nick.clark@nzinitiative.org.nz | ||||||||||||
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The suit is shed, the tie abandoned. In their place appears the sacred vestment of the season, the gumboot. Never mind that the wearer last touched mud at the previous election. For three days gumboots are worn with the solemnity of bishops’ mitres. The standup is delivered. Boots are planted in straw to prove communion with the soil. There are sacred rituals, too. A lamb must be held, a tractor admired, a sausage eaten outdoors, and a photograph taken in which the politician regards a cow as though glimpsing the future. Mystery Creek obliges. This year, Fieldays featured a politicians' advocacy hub, a kind of chapel where members of every party take turns at the pulpit. The theme of all their sermons is the same: to assure the assembled faithful that they, personally, have always understood the land. The Prime Minister opened proceedings and, as is customary, arrived with ritual offerings. There was $51 million for low-emissions technology, $59 million for commercial projects, and a promise to double the QE II Conservation Trust’s funding if his party wins in November. The faithful were blessed, with millions sprayed across the paddock like holy fertiliser. As Monty Python’s holy scriptures tell us, “blessed are the cheesemakers.” Labour, not to be outdone, sent its own leader north in his own gumboots. His policy of cheap bus rides for city folk might be of vanishingly little benefit to rural people, but he, too, expressed with warm conviction that he is a son of the soil at heart. The party leaders’ contest is not over who farms the most. None of them farm. It is over who can stand in a cowshed and look least awkward. On Saturday, the marquees come down. Boots are wiped and returned to the cupboard. The politicians return to the cities where almost all of them live and almost all of us vote. The cows, who have seen this before, return to the serious business of digesting grass. But the gumboots looked authentic and the indulgences were dispensed. Everyone agreed it had been a wonderful Fieldays. They will be back next year. |
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