Even at 12,000 miles distance, I was able to celebrate the moment when the UK left the EU. There was a personal element to my celebration. I recalled that, as I record in my published memoirs, I was shocked when I found myself – in a debate on the Maastricht treaty – speaking to an almost empty chamber, and my sense that, if British MPs couldn’t be bothered even turning up when significant powers of government were being handed over to an outside agency, I couldn’t see why I, as a Kiwi, should bother either – it was a significant factor in my decision to leave British politics and return to my native New Zealand.

So, as the whole ill-judged episode was brought to an end on 31 January, I celebrated – but my principal feelings were those of relief, regret and anger.

I felt relief that the British people’s decision to regain their sovereignty had at last been honoured. I felt regret at the wastage – of opportunity, of prosperity, of self-belief – that 47 years of vassalage had meant for us. And I felt anger at those who had led us into such a damaging dead end and who had more recently striven might and main to keep us there.

It was, after all, the predecessors of today’s remainers who had persuaded us to sign up to the ill-fated venture in the first place. They sold the idea to us on a false prospectus – that it would open the door to greater prosperity and that it would mean no loss of the powers of self-government.

I think I can claim to have been one of the few to have debunked such claims from the outset. I knew from my work in the Foreign Office and my years in our embassy in Brussels that the terms on which we were urged to join what was then the Common Market could hardly have been more calculated to weaken, rather than benefit, us.

The record shows beyond doubt that my fears were justified. The British economy languished, our trade deficit swelled, our manufacturing industry was decimated, our trading links with the rest of the world were weakened, our cost of living was pushed up – not entirely the consequences of our European involvement, it is true, since domestic policy mistakes also played a part – but the operations of the Common Market, then the EEC and then the EU, were clearly inimical to British interests over the whole period.

And all the while, as our economy faltered, we found that assurances that there was no intention to create a European super-state were just hot air. We found ourselves in an entity with its own central bank, its own supreme court, its own powerful executive and its own so-called parliament – all with the power to tell us what we could and couldn’t do, and all enjoying powers superior to those of our own institutions.

We have discovered just how far-reaching those shackles have been as we have struggled to disentangle ourselves from them through the exit process.

Those who had urged us on in the first place closed their eyes to these consequences. They were driven by what seemed to be an almost religious fanaticism, but which was in reality, I think, an expression of what they believed was a kind of cultural superiority. They saw themselves as European, rather than British, because they felt that, unlike their fellow-citizens, they alone were able to enjoy the great glories and pleasures of European civilisation – the music, art, literature, food and architecture. As a consequence, they were impervious to the concerns of those they regarded as their inferiors.

Leaving the EU has at last restored to us the chance to shape our own future. There seems no reason, looking forward, why two entities – the UK and the EU – with so many shared interests and so geographically close to each other, should have any difficulty in agreeing on a mutually beneficial trading arrangement and on a range of other useful cooperations on what I like to describe as functional opportunities – that is, we work together where it makes obvious sense to do so.

Our future is indeed bright if British energy and ambition are now put at the service of our own interests, rather than of some fanciful and elusive European identity. It might even be that Commonwealth countries like my own, so long cold-shouldered by the British, might be persuaded to forgive their ill-treatment and enter new arrangements that will benefit all parties.

Bryan Gould
2 February 2020

Most television viewers will recognise that the advertisements that punctuate the programmes we watch are a “necessary evil”; they are the price we pay for the service we receive. Without television commercials, it is said, there would be little to watch.

But viewers might also conclude that, unavoidable as TV commercials are, there are techniques that can be used to reduce their impact – and it is a safe bet that many viewers will have grown accustomed to using the “mute” button on their remote so as to cut out the sound of the incessant voices urging us to buy this or that.

The imperative to resort to this tactic is of course much strengthened if the advertisers continue to bombard us with commercials that irritate or annoy us. One might have thought that advertisers would be constantly alert to the possibility that their advertising, rather than inducing us to want and therefore to buy their product, might actually dissuade us from doing so.

Yet we don’t have to think very hard to come up with television commercials that, in one way or another, lead us not only to suppress the sound but also to turn off the product that is being touted.

And it is relatively easy to identify those advertising techniques that are off-putting in this way. There is, for instance, those ads that seem to appear at every commercial break – the opening scene of such repetitive selling efforts is enough to make one scream every time they appear. In our family, “not again!” is the usual response to this kind of blitzkrieg. Who would have thought that two women paying hotel bills would warrant so much attention?

And then there are the ads that are selling products offered by different providers but that are all selling essentially the same product. This kind of advertising, for some strange reason, seems particularly prevalent when it comes to products thought to be of special interest to elderly viewers.

So, we have endless advertisements from different advertisers for what is called funeral expense insurance (which is, in reality, merely a small-scale form of life insurance); and there are similarly repetitive ads for stair lifts, hearing aids, retirement villages, and “sitting down” exercise machines, repeated examples of each of which can be found on television programmes scheduled for around lunchtime.

This is to say nothing of the advertising frenzy that we all had to endure late last year and that was apparently engendered by something called “Black Friday”, a date which seemingly had no recognisable significance for us other than to produce an excuse for an advertising blitz.

Then there are the ads that go out of their way to irritate and annoy – those that employ super-excited voices or -“wait, there is more”! – voices that are deliberately (and insultingly) made to sound unpleasant in the misguided belief that people will identify with them more readily and therefore take heir custom to one particular supermarket. And there are some advertisers who apparently believe that their product can be made saleable only if supported by an American accent.

And there are the commercials whose pitch assumes that the viewers are cretins and will believe, for example, that adding caffein (what next?) to shampoo is an example of “German engineering for your hair”.

And I haven’t even mentioned the constant attempt to persuade us that various forms of fast food are super-alluring and are essential to “having a good time” at any social or family or sporting gathering.

Advertising on television is not, one assumes, inexpensive. How long before advertisers wake up to the fact that much of it is actually off-putting. What is the pojnt of producing and screening tv commercials at considerable cost if their effect is to associate the product being advertised, in the minds of viewers, with feelings of irritation and annoyance.

If we must have television commercials, let them at least be worth watching and listening to. Advertisers! Wake up, and try harder, and – if you expect advertising to work for you – learn to treat your viewers with more respect.

Bryan Gould
4 February 2020

New Zealand’s road toll has long been a perennial reproach to a country that likes to regard itself as being at the leading edge of advanced countries. But constant efforts by government to bring the toll down to be more in line with with other countries have been ineffectual.

So, the toll, measured in terms of loss of life and injury, and the grief and suffering that attend them, continues as a blot and a blight on our national life. Why is our record in this respect proportionately worse than that of other comparable countries?

It is relatively easy to build a catalogue of possible reasons. There is, first, the difficult terrain that our road-builders found when they undertook the task of cutting roads through our hills and valleys and forests. I have often marvelled at the huge efforts made by our forefathers – in an era before earth-moving equipment – when picks and shovels were all that was available.

But the fact remains that our road network exhibits a higher proportion of tight bends, narrow stretches, cliffside edges and difficult surfaces than would be found elsewhere. And, it has to be acknowledged, that while Kiwis all regard themselves as good drivers, we are on the whole regrettably aggressive, lacking in skill and discipline, and prone to taking risks.

Our drivers’ skills, or lack of them, reflect several aspects of New Zealand culture. A largely rural economy has bred a commendable spirit of self-reliance but also an impatience with rules and restrictions. A large number of New Zealand drivers are family taught and have learnt to drive on the farm and at a relatively early age, and have become used to light volumes of traffic on country roads.

Add to that a drinking culture and the fact that you need a vehicle to get anywhere and the ingredients are there for a high incidence of drink-driving which remains one of the banes of our lives – and our current struggle with the spread of meth and other drugs adds to the problem.

Then there is the modern blight of the mobile phone. My wife and I have lost count of the number of drivers we have seen engrossed in a telephone conversation – or, much worse, texting – while driving; if you find yourself following a vehicle whose speed varies unpredictably or that wanders across the white line, you can be pretty sure that the driver ’s attention is elsewhere.

In any discussion of road accidents, the conversation will inevitably turn to foreign drivers, and it is certainly true that we have a higher proportion of drivers who are unfamiliar with our roads and traffic conditions than is the case in most countries – and, sadly, many reported accidents seem to involve foreign tourists.

Whenever this topic is raised, my mind goes back to when I was, as a young man, on a motoring holiday in Spain. I had become accustomed, as I thought, to driving on the right-hand side of the road, but it so happened that on one morning, my companion and I had crossed to the left-hand side to stop for a cup of coffee. When we resumed our journey, I pulled out, on to the nearer left side which naturally felt very familiar to me, and it was only when I saw the oncoming traffic approaching me on that side, that I realised my mistake.

So, we have to accept that accidents involving foreign drivers are all too likely and are part of the price we pay for our tourist earnings. The only remedy available to each of us is constant vigilance – vigilance we have to exercise anyway in respect of Kiwi drivers who may not know the road, or who are on the phone, or who are speeding, or who have been drinking or taking drugs.

Improving our roads and increasing the policing are clearly part of the solution. But we also need to change our mindset. Driving is not the carefree spin on the open road that we believe we are all equipped to undertake, but is inherently dangerous. It requires all the skill, care, concentration and social responsibility we can muster.

Bryan Gould
20 January 2020

Donald Trump faces impeachment because he is accused of using the power of his office – that is, the power granted to him as President to be exercised on behalf of the country and the general interest – to further his own political interests, and, in particular, his wish to be re-elected.

The evidence for this is a telephone call he made to the President of Ukraine, during which he was overheard “asking a favour” of President Zelensky; the favour requested was that a Ukrainian inquiry should be made into allegations of corruption involving the son of Joe Biden, who is leading the race for nomination as the Democratic candidate and who is, as shown by the polls, likely to beat Trump in the presidential election.

The “favour” was linked to the American provision of large-scale military aid to Ukraine – aid that was, when the inquiry did not materialise, withheld on Trump’s orders.

The recent assassination by American drone of a leading Iranian general, Qassem Suleimani, when he was visiting Iraq, shows that Trump has learned nothing from his impeachment. He has been quick to claim credit for the assassination, which has certainly had the presumably desired effect of taking his impeachment out of the headlines – a classic example of a “wag the dog” foreign intervention designed to divert attention from domestic issues.

But it again raises the question of whether the President has used the power of his office to further his campaign to be re-elected, rather than to serve the interests of the country. The assassination was almost certainly an illegal act – it was, after all, on one level, simply an act of murder.

If Trump’s justification for it – that Sulameini was intending to launch an attack on American targets – is to be believed, the murder was an “act of war”, but one of which he failed to give prior notice to Congress, as he is obliged to do under American law.

Whatever the constitutional and legal niceties, what is clearly beyond dispute is that the assassination has dangerously increased tensions in an already dangerous Middle East. The Iranians have vowed retaliation, and the Iraqis have asked American troops to leave their country, leaving the way clear for a revival of Isis.

The world itself is now at risk, with nuclear-armed countries threatening each other. The tragedy is that, quite apart from the Trump-ordered assassination, the whole tinder-box is a Trump creation.

In the years preceding Trump’s election victory in 2016, concern had been mounting, not least in Israel, at the possibility that Iran might be in process of acquiring nuclear weapons. Trump’s predecessor, President Obama, had recognised the danger and had negotiated an agreement under which the Iranians would halt their nuclear weapons programme, and would accept international inspection to verify that they had done so, in return for which the Americans and other Western countries would lift the trade sanctions they had imposed on Iran.

Trump was so determined to reject and disown anything that Obama had achieved that, without consulting his European allies who were also parties to the agreement, he tore it up and again subjected to trade sanctions an Iran that was no longer under any obligation to terminate its nuclear weapons programme.

Trump has now, as Joe Biden has said, thrown into the tinder box the “dynamite stick” of Sulameini’s assassination. It is hard to believe that any sane person, let alone world leader, could have acted so irresponsibly.

His threat to respond to any Iranian retaliation by attacking Iranian cultural heritage sites reveals a complete abandonment of civilised behaviour and a disregard of international law.

If Trump’s threatened withdrawal of American military aid as a means of extracting “a favour” from Ukraine was an impeachable offence, then his reckless pursuit of a favourable headline by murdering a foreign leader is even more so.

This time, however, the world has more than an onlooker’s interest. An outbreak of nuclear war in the Middle East would be disastrous for us all. We must hope that American voters (and Republican senators) will recognise that neither we nor they we can any longer tolerate or afford a President who is prepared to jeopardise world peace so as to advance his own political interests.