Kindle Notes & Highlights
I believe it is the responsibility of all in prosperity to care for those in adversity; that the welfare of the nation in the future depends on the children of today, and every assistance financial and otherwise should be given to those who have undertaken the responsibilities of parenthood.
The Friends of the Turnbull Library, or FOTTL as they were better known, looked for all the world like a kindly group of retirees. In reality, their lobbying style was that of a paramilitary group, who waged relentless email attacks and meeting ambushes. It was exhausting, even when we were working with people who liked us!
The rule of thumb for other offices was that if I arrived in their office, something bad was brewing; if Heather arrived, something bad had happened; and if Helen arrived, it was to say goodbye.
We became fast friends. I have often taken credit for taking Jacinda from sober Mormon to the whisky-loving, sailor-level swearer that she is today.
When we drew lots to speak, independent Al Mansell drew number one. He stood up, surveyed the good and the great in the audience, nervously laughed and said, ‘It’s great to be back in Wadestown. The last time I was here it was to steal your opium poppies.’
It became a bit of a staple at Caucus that I would ask Phil what the messages were we were trying to get across that week. He would reply with a list of issues of the day. There is a huge difference between the two.
I felt that David was not burdened with modesty, and his move into politics in 1999 was a surprise to very few, though some wondered about his choice of party given some of his views.
At one point Jacinda, now fully lapsed from her Mormonism, produced a hip flask of whisky to help us manage our emotions.
He was asked to justify the letter. He rose and said, ‘That’s easy, Mr Speaker, it was a pre-letter.’ And sat down, with the House in hysterics and none the wiser.
As we were sworn in, Cabinet Secretary Michael Webster read out our portfolios. When he came to Chris Hipkins and said, ‘Minister of Education’, I noticed Chippy wipe tears from his eyes.
At this point I remembered the best piece of advice I ever got about being a Minister. Annette King had told us that our job was to make decisions. The system was full of people who would give advice, write reports and provide opinions, but it was our job to decide.
By pausing contributions, the government had cost taxpayers $17 billion of earnings.
Winston fancied himself as a fiscal conservative, but he had no shortage of ideas on how he and his colleagues could spend money.
She made the call to say that as Prime Minister she would not introduce a CGT. I understood the politics of it, but I was gutted.
We were able to make some very significant investments in our first Wellbeing Budget, keep debt under the 20% figure and run a surplus. It was the balanced economic management I had been working towards.
The mantra for the health response was to go hard and go early. We had to take the same approach with the economy.
‘Events, dear boy, events,’ as Harold Macmillan said, that is what politics really is about.
In the end unemployment never went above 5.1%, and in that first year business closures were actually lower than in a normal year. I understand that people look back and see that a lot of money was spent. There were no costless decisions in COVID — and I am proud that we prioritised the lives and wellbeing of our people.
‘There is too much at stake right now to vote for National. They’re unstable. They have had three leaders in four months, 19 resignations, a string of different positions on the border and they published a budget full of mistakes.’ It was a measure of the strength of our position that I could say this and that it might actually resonate with voters.
Jacinda rang me: ‘Do you know who our candidate is in Ilam?’ I thought I’d met her once at an event in Christchurch but was not sure. ‘It’s Sarah someone,’ I replied. No offence to our excellent candidate Sarah Pallett, but Ilam was not a seat we had focused on or even imagined winning.
‘I guess you want me to be Minister of Finance then?’ ‘Absolutely!’ ‘Great — it’s on one condition though.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘I want to be Minister for Sport and Recreation.’ ‘Ah, a few people have expressed interest in that job.’ ‘Hmm, well, how many of them have you asked to be Minister of Finance?’ I got the job.
This did not stop the incoming National leader Christopher Luxon from making one of his first announcements a call for more support for businesses affected by Covid. Not for the first time National wanted us to spend more money — a fact that has been forgotten by those majoring in Hindsight Economics.
My friend Beth gave me the best possible advice when I confided in her how I was feeling. She said, ‘When you’re overwhelmed and anxious, remember you will not always feel this way.’
This was also the election that proved to me that the way the public consume news had totally changed. For many, mainstream media were no longer the main trusted source of news. Social media ruled and the post-truth era meant any claim would be countered by another, and no one was taking the time to really analyse what information was correct.
The time-warping effect of Covid meant our six years felt longer to the public. One person I door-knocked in Wellington Central told me that she was not voting for us because she thought nine years was long enough for any government. It took a bit to persuade her that it had been only six years.
This led me to become the answer to a future quiz question. Minister of Foreign Affairs Nanaia Mahuta had been defeated at the election, so when the writs were issued she was no longer even an MP. So, for two glorious weeks I was the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
It had all meant so much to me for so long. But I was, as the kids say, cooked.
Kia kaha, kia māia, kia manawanui. Be brave, be bold, be steadfast. We’ve got this.
