Cheerleaders for the “free” market always insist that the market is infallible and always gets it “right”, and so should never be challenged or second-guessed.

When they say that the market gets it “right”, they are not making a moral judgment.  By “right”, they mean that there is no other option because, they say, the market is not concerned with morality and automatically arrives at the best outcomes.  Any attempt to intervene would mean outcomes that are less than optimal.

This touching faith in the accuracy and objectivity of the market assumes of course that market operators are always in possession of all the necessary information about market conditions and have equal bargaining power.  Even the most purblind of believers in the market’s infallibility would concede that a significant imbalance in bargaining power or in access to relevant information would mean that the market must produce a flawed result for the parties so disadvantaged.

The debate about such issues becomes even more pointed when the market being considered is the market for labour.  Given the way in which our economy operates, it is almost always the case that it is employers who have the whip hand.  In most circumstances, the employer will be able to pick and choose from those seeking work, and will usually be able to say that if an applicant does not like the terms (including the wages) that are offered, there will be others who won’t be so hard to please.

Most people will quickly understand that – as between a large corporation and an individual worker – the balance of advantage lies clearly with the corporation when it comes to negotiating the wage bargain.

That conclusion is confirmed by the shift in the relative share of wages on the one hand and of profits on the other in our economy over recent years.  The power of the employer – particularly since the 1970s, the period when “free market” policies have been in place – has meant that the share of corporate profits has risen, but the share going to wages has fallen.

Little wonder, then, that those concerned about growing inequality and poverty in our society might question whether the “free” market for labour always gets it “right”.  The labour market, after all, is not just another market for commodities – it is a market that determines the living standards and sense of self-worth of large numbers of our fellow-citizens, and that defines the kind of society we (and they) live in.

A “free” market that allows the powerful (whether private employers or government departments) to exploit the relative lack of bargaining power of the individual worker cannot be regarded as producing the “right” or “best” outcomes.  Our modern-day society would be happier with itself if wage bargaining were not so unfairly tilted in favour of the employer.

How is that to be achieved?  In a democracy, it is up to us, if we so choose, to elect a government that is committed to intervening in the labour market to ensure that the parties are in a more equal position and are required to agree on certain basic features of the wage bargain – features that will ensure proper conditions at work and a fair return to those devoting their working lives to an employer.

It is a safe bet that many of those who voted last year for one or other of the parties that now comprise the governing coalition did so in the belief that they would thereby produce just such a government.  It is encouraging that one of our most experienced and thoughtful politicians – Jim Bolger, who has an unrivalled long perspective on where we have gone wrong – has agreed to head up the new government’s effort to put things right.

The ideologues are of course aghast that our elected government might seek to second-guess the market.  Let us hope that ideological blinkers will not dissuade us from achieving greater fairness in the way we distribute the fruits of our economic success.  That success becomes all the more likely if all those contributing are assured that their efforts will be properly rewarded – and is a further step in making our country a better place to live.

Bryan Gould

7 June 2018

Simon Bridges’ explanation that his hitting of the “like” button on Cameron Slater’s Twitter post ridiculing the Prime Minister’s partner, Clarke Gayford, was “accidental” should no doubt be taken at face value.  It beggars belief that the National party leader would allow himself to be seen as openly supporting such a disreputable campaign, especially after he had so publicly warned his party against being associated with it in any way.

But, even if we give him the benefit of the doubt, his admission raises a number of questions which need answering.  Any association between senior members of the National party and Cameron Slater will revive memories of the allegations made before the last election that “dirty tricks” and “the black arts” were employed by the party and that Cameron Slater was their attack dog of choice.

Slater was known to be particularly close to Judith Collins; they are on record as instructing each other on how to treat their opponents and congratulating each other on their “successes”.    Slater regarded Collins as his mentor, while she saw him as a partner in crime, prepared to use any means to inflict damage on those who could be seen as enemies.  She advocated what she called the Double Rule, meaning that if someone attacked you or was opposed to you, you hit them back twice as hard. “If you can’t be loved, then best to be feared,” she said.

With this link fresh in the public mind, why, in other words, was Simon Bridges following Cameron Slater on Twitter in the first place?  It was surely sailing too close to the wind to run the risk of re-establishing in the public mind the impression that National’s leadership was still working closely with the notorious blogger.  Bridges has his hands full enough in trying to establish himself favourably in the public mind without making the task more difficult by rubbing shoulders with such unhelpful “allies”.

And when Simon Bridges identified Slater’s post concerning Clarke Gayford and its import, why did he linger long enough to allow his thumb to wander to an inappropriate button?  And if he can’t control his own thumb, what chance does he have of controlling his party, Judith Collins and all?

The whole episode is a sad commentary on the state of New Zealand politics and public life.  Politics is a tough business, and there is a tendency on the part of its practitioners (and perhaps of the public as well) to believe that “all’s fair in love and war – and politics” and that “the ends justify the means”.  But once we allow this to be accepted, we have lost one of the most valued principles of our public life and one that we have traditionally celebrated – that we have the right to expect of our political leaders that they should conduct themselves with honesty and decency.

If that is once lost, then “anything goes”, no one can be trusted, and the whole point and purpose of democratic government is cast aside and destroyed.  The episode tells us that it is not just Simon Bridges’ reputation that is at stake but that important standards are at risk – and that we are at least entitled to say to him, when assessing (and accepting) his explanation, “not good enough – must try harder”.

Bryan Gould

10 May 2018

The social media have assumed a hugely important significance in modern society.  For young people, in particular, they offer by far the most important means of communication and source of information.   Whether it be bullying at school or concerns about privacy or interference in elections, their influence is felt everywhere – and not always for the good.

Political parties, in particular, realised some time ago that social media offered a cheap and effective means of influencing opinion; it is even argued that information gleaned from Facebook and then organised and utilised by Cambridge Analytica helped to determine the outcome of the 2016 United States presidential election that elected Donald Trump.

This kind of intervention in the democratic process may cause concern but – apart from the unauthorised misuse of what was assumed to be private information – the pitching to voters on the basis of what is known about their views and preferences is not necessarily any different in principle from the usual attempt, using more conventional means, to secure their support and to persuade them to vote one way rather than another.

It is less easy, however, to be relaxed about another recent instance of the political impact that the social media can have.  They can all too easily become the vehicle of a campaign that uses innuendo and scuttlebutt to discredit a politician or his or her associates.

The damage that can be done by such a campaign is magnified by the sheer volume of misinformation that can be generated over a brief period – and the absence of any substance in that misinformation can be camouflaged by constant repetition.

The recent campaign of which the Prime Minister’s partner was a victim was just such an instance.  As she and he have discovered, there is virtually no defence against such an unprincipled attack.  While there can be no doubt that the campaign is politically motivated, and is an example of “dirty politics”,  the absence of any identifiable central direction makes it difficult if not impossible to stop it or disprove it at source.  It is truly a hydra-headed monster.

A social media campaign of this type, in other words, is an ideal instrument for those who wish to inflict maximum damage with the least risk of being uncovered.  A social media campaign, after all, builds its own momentum, as those who had no part in launching it nevertheless see the chance to add to it and to increase the damage it does.  The planners and originators can simply disappear back into the woodwork.

That problem is magnified by the fact that modern political parties, almost without exception, engage teams of sympathisers to patrol the social media, ready to respond as apparently uncommitted private citizens to postings they do not like, or to add support to those they do.  There would be nothing easier, in other words, than for a couple of enthusiasts to launch a campaign on behalf of a political organisation and then allow their fellow-enthusiasts to jump on the bandwagon and push it along, all without any apparent central direction or encouragement.

The calumny thereby circulated is not, of course, the end of the damage that can be achieved.  The distress suffered and time wasted by the victims are all part of the price that is paid – and when they complain, quite legitimately, about “dirty politics” they are advised to harden up, or criticised for giving the story more legs, or are accused of bad-mouthing their opponents by suggesting that they are the obvious beneficiaries.   And there will be much sage shaking of the head and muttering about “no smoke without fire”.

But, if the campaign is “dirty” (as it certainly is) and if it has an obviously political purpose (as it has), why can it not be characterised as “dirty politics”?  The phenomenon is not exactly unknown in our politics; there are, indeed, some political practitioners who glory in and boast of their prowess in such undertakings.  The victims – and the wider public – are surely entitled to draw their own conclusions.

Bryan Gould

3 May 2018