The world has been quick to sympathise with the Australians over their bushfire catastrophe. But the world has also been quick to criticise their lack of response to the problems created by global warming and the consequent record high temperatures on the Australian continent.

Before we rush to judgment, however, we should bear in mind that we call them “Australians” because of where they are, not who they are. “Who they are” is “us”.

They are “us” because they are, as we are, part of a much wider entity. Today’s Australians display attitudes and behaviours that are shared by a large proportion of the world’s population. They represent all of us in grappling, or failing to grapple, with the issues that face them.

The one thing we can all agree on when considering the scale of today’s Australian bushfires is that they are the consequence of human activity. The continent has experienced summer bushfires since time immemorial; it is the advent of humans in large numbers that seems to have made the difference and that has set the continent ablaze.

And not just any old humans, but humans representing the epitome of western civilisation. The Australians have, on the whole, made a pretty good job of representing the rest of us; they have created what is widely recognised as a “good life” in their new home.

But their failings have been real, too, and have been exposed by the bushfire disaster. We, and they, need to identify the factors and characteristics that have produced those failings, since we are very likely to share them.

Australia, and New Zealand, and many other countries who would claim to be part of what we like to think of as the “advanced” or “developed” world, is a society, an economy and a culture built on the twin foundations of a market economy and political democracy.

The driving force of a market economy, however, (and, most would say, its great strength) is the incessant pursuit of profit. Profit depends on demand and demand means consumption. Production is a response to demand and consumption, and without ever-increasing demand, a market economy falters; if sales, and therefore consumption and eventually production, fall, there is immediate talk of recession, business failures, unemployment and falling asset values.

We can see how important demand and consumption are to the performance of the economy when we see how much is spent on advertising with the aim of creating ever higher demand – or a demand that never falters – for what is produced.

But a literally insatiable demand for new production imposes a huge strain on the economy and eventually on society as a whole. It is not just that, in a world with finite resources, a continued growth in consumption will necessarily reduce the stock of resources; it is also that the processes required to meet that growth in consumption – the exploitation of fossil fuels, for example – will upset the natural balance on which life depends.

The market economy is, as our history shows, a tyrannical master. Everything – other forms of life, pure air and water – is grist to the mill, not least the labour of working people which becomes just another factor of production.

Our civilisation has attempted to restrain these aspects of a market economy by establishing a system of government based on political democracy. But the attempt has failed. Democratic elections have become nothing more than bidding wars in which the rival parties try to outdo each other in promising the voters ever greater levels of consumption.

A responsible politician, offering stable or reduced consumption in the common interest, will be soundly rebuffed. Democracy, in other words, has become a means of reinforcing the very aspects of a modern economy that it is meant to restrain.

If we, and the Australians, are to avoid further environmental catastrophes, we have to be ready to reconsider some of our most fundamental beliefs about how to create a successful and sustainable society. In seeking an explanation for the bushfires and other similar crises, we need look no further than ourselves. Ask not who tolled the bell; we did.

Bryan Gould
9 January 2020

As we enter the new year, the fact that it is year 2020 may give us some hope that we will see the future more clearly and that things are, accordingly, about to get better. But if we are really on the threshold of a new era, in which we are all blessed with perfect vision as to what is to come, what might we expect to see?

The bad news is that 20/20 vision is sure to alert us to a number of developments that are less than welcome. It may be, therefore, that seeing clearly into the future will show us what must be changed or avoided, rather than what we might welcome or whose arrival we might wish to hasten.

There are, sadly, a number of issues that are already with us or on the horizon and to which our natural response might be to slam on the brakes or do a sudden u-turn. And worse, they tend to be issues in respect of which we are powerless bystanders or onlookers, with little or no capacity to change the course of events.

Take, for instance, the supposed “world leaders” who are likely to be still with us. Donald Trump, whose international policy blunders have already made the world a more dangerous place, is already talking about space – not so much as “the new frontier” as “the new theatre of war”. The rest of the “free world” might well be glad to see the back of him, but his “base” are all too likely to want him re-elected.

And what about Vladimir Putin? The Russian leader seems determined not to be trumped by Trump and is now boasting about the Russian development of new “hypersonic” nuclear missiles which will, he maintains, give Russia the advantage over the US. Are we really happy to see our futures in the hands of such madmen?

But then there are other issues, of equal or even greater significance and carrying perhaps even worse threats to our survival, where we are not powerless to make a change – not so much as individuals but through adding our voices to a growing consensus on what needs to be done.

Global warming is one such issue – an issue which so threatens the survival of the human race that it has provoked protests and demonstrations around the world. On global warming, at least, we are not obliged to sit quietly and take what comes – we can ensure that our leaders understand the strength of our opinions and feelings and that, before it is too late, they take the actions that are needed if the worst is to be avoided.

But these issues are all global in scale and many will feel that they are going to be decided by those well beyond our sphere of influence. So, is there nothing we can do as individuals in the new year that will make a difference?

I believe that there are things we can do in the new year and beyond that will make our world safer and more enjoyable. The way we each behave to others is entirely within our own individual control, and something we can decide for ourselves. We can all make our own lives happier and more fulfilling if we contribute to a society that functions on the basis of kindness to each other and to all the other living creatures with whom we share the planet.

We all know the pleasure that acts of kindness bring to us – whether we are the initiators or the recipients. My wife and I have the good fortune to live in a small community where kindness is the dominant quality and prevailing ethos. It makes us all feel better – about ourselves and about each other, and it gives us hope that humanity can find a way to save itself from the perils that face us.

We can each set our own standards as to how we live our lives and treat others. 20/20 vision, as we enter the new year, should help us to plot a course that avoids the obvious pitfalls and makes the most for all of us of what life in our beautiful country can offer us.

Bryan Gould
6 January 2020

Christmas, as is often said, is a time for families – and, I’m glad to say, we are no exception. My wife and I have had the pleasure of being joined this year by our son, his wife and their three (now grown-up) children from the UK.

They are no strangers to New Zealand, having holidayed here repeatedly over the years – and they are always delighted to see not only their grandparents but also their New Zealand aunt and three New Zealand cousins. As a result, we have had a houseful of no fewer than eleven people and, because the English and New Zealand cousins all get on so well (give or take some friendly rivalry and differing views over the odd rugby or cricket contest), a wonderful time is guaranteed for all.

On an earlier visit, a couple of years ago, our visiting UK family all took the trip to White Island, and on their return back home regaled their friends with accounts of what they had seen. So they had a special interest in, and were aghast at, the tragic outcomes of the eruption on Whakaari and have been fascinated and alarmed at the plumes of steam still rising from the island and visible from our deck.

But the disaster that has also captured our attention over the holiday period has been the bush fires raging out of control in Australia. It has been hard to credit the pictures of flames engulfing vast areas of bush and pasture, destroying houses, buildings and cars – to say nothing of the fatalities and injuries, and the impact on wild life. Whole towns are threatened, and air quality in the big cities has become a health hazard.

Even at this time of Christmas celebration and joy, it behoves us to pause for at least a moment and to consider the full implications of the Australian nightmare. The message being delivered by the flames is that human habitation in Australia is now seriously under threat – and, furthermore, that it is human habitation that has itself created the crisis.

When a land mass the size of Australia heats to its current level, we are perilously close to the point of no return. The record temperatures are not just the consequence of global warming but have become a major contributor to it. Australia has become, first, a huge repository of stored heat and, secondly, a damaging source of heat released into the atmosphere.

The Australian Prime Minster, Scott Morrison, attracted fierce criticism for departing on holiday to Hawaii while his countrymen were burning up. But his real dereliction of duty has been to lead a government whose programme, despite the growing evidence that climate change now threatens his country, is to intensify and apply the free-market doctrines that have produced global heating in the first place.

There is no salvation for any of us (and we are all potentially likely to face Australian-style problems if nothing changes) if we go on asserting that nothing need change – and that “business as usual” must be maintained.

If further global warming is to be avoided, or at least restrained, we have to accept that the so-called “free market” cannot be allowed to go on calling the shots. The market has many strengths but the single bottom line is not one of them. If we are to treat global warming seriously, we have to adopt an economic system that takes account of wider considerations than simply profit and loss and the quest for the best financial return on investment.

What this means – that government must intercede (in the public interest) in business and in private sector operations – will be unpalatable to many. But the choice is clear – do we give priority to political dogma or to the future of the planet?

Now is the time to put to the test the strength of our resolve and to meet our obligations to future generations. If the human race is to have a future, and if our planet is to remain habitable, the time to act is now. Our own government, no less than their Australian counterparts, must now show, on issues like offshore drilling for oil, that it recognises the seriousness of the challenge.

Bryan Gould

25 December 2019

The British general election, producing, as it did, a record majority for Boris Johnson’s Conservative party, will be regarded by many as providing a blueprint for achieving similar success for right-wing parties in other countries – not least in New Zealand.

Simon Bridges has already proclaimed that the victory was due to Boris Johnson’s “clarity and firmness” and has promised to follow a similar path to election victory here next year. That path may not, however, be as clear as it may seem.

It is certainly true that Johnson’s constantly repeated slogan “Get Brexit done!” offered a simple and clear commitment that resonated well with British voters. The opposition Labour party, by contrast, had shilly-shallied over Brexit, and had offered the doubtful prospect of a second referendum as their preferred means, they hoped, of breaking the deadlock.

The voters, especially those Labour supporters who had voted for Brexit in the 2016 referendum, were not impressed and responded by voting Conservative, many of them for the first time. In an election campaign dominated by Brexit, Labour predictably lost seats to the Conservatives – especially in the North and the Midlands, while the anti-Brexit Liberals failed to make their much-anticipated gains from the Conservatives. The way was clear for a massive Tory victory.

The true lesson to be drawn from the British general election is not, in other words, that Labour voters were persuaded of the advantages to them of electing a Tory government. It was, rather, that they were fed up with the three and half years of a parliament that had failed (or refused) to give effect to the decision they had reached in the 2016 referendum. The lesson is not so much about how to win an election as about how to lose one.

What Boris Johnson managed, but Labour failed to do, was to keep faith with the British people. He understood that the Brexit decision was not, as so many who opposed it insisted, a terrible mistake by those who didn’t understand what they were doing, but was, rather, a considered judgment as to the impact EU membership had had on their lives.

The real puzzle is why Jeremy Corbyn, the Labour leader, failed to grasp this. It was, after all, his Labour voters in the North and Midlands, whose jobs, wages, housing, education and health services had suffered most and who had blamed EU membership for what they felt was a loss of control over their own affairs.

When Labour MPs joined the majority in parliament apparently determined to frustrate the Brexit that lifelong Labour voters had voted for, those voters then voted for the one politician who would, they believed, do what they wanted.

The election result was therefore hardly a surprise. It was a totally foreseeable rebuff by voters to all those politicians who thought they “knew best”, and who presumed to substitute their opinions for those of the voters who had elected them.

Those politicians took a dangerous gamble with the voters’ faith in representative democracy when they ignored the wishes and opinions of those who had sent them to parliament.

Boris Johnson’s victory did not, in other words, materialise out of thin air. It was a justified reward for nothing more complicated than simply trusting (and representing) the people – something that should come naturally to all democrats.

If lessons are to be drawn here in New Zealand, they are to be learned by Labour rather than by right-wing politicians. It is, after all, the left that claims to represent – as Jeremy Corbyn himself put it – the “many, not the few”. That claim can at times seem somewhat hollow, as Corbyn demonstrated.

The British election could have turned out very differently, if Corbyn had taken one simple step. If he had committed, at the beginning of the campaign, to delivering Brexit, the whole issue would have been negated as a point of difference between the two major parties, and Labour voters would have been able to decide their vote on a range of other, and more familiar and traditional issues, which would in most cases have meant that they stayed loyal to Labour. Parting company with the voters, especially your own, is never a good idea.

Bryan Gould
18 December 2019

We have become accustomed to seeing – on our television screens every day and in the public prints as well – the political battle played out as though that is exactly what it is – a battle. In that battle, the leading figures shape up to each other as though they are deadly enemies, ever ready to respond to their opponents with a hostile riposte or a condemnatory put-down – and hardly ever letting pass an opportunity to score a quick jab or sneaky uppercut.

The leading exponent of this style of politics is, of course, Donald Trump. His daily tweets are an object lesson in showing hostility towards and denigrating those with whom he disagrees or who dare to disagree with him.

It is a style that, he calculates, plays well with his supporters – those he calls his “base”. He seems not to bother courting those holding different views who are, it seems, beyond the pale and irredeemably a lost cause. Time alone will tell whether his calculation is correct.

In this country, however, it is less clear that such an approach commends itself to the voters. On the contrary, we seem to warm towards political leaders who seem actually to like their fellow-citizens – think Jacinda Ardern or John Key.

In making that judgment, we are surely right. It must surely be a cardinal requirement of anyone claiming the privilege of leading our people that the claimant should actually like those whose interests are at stake and whom he or she purports to represent.

Liking people is the first and essential step towards understanding them; and that in turn leads to being able to put yourself in their shoes and ultimately to showing them kindness and compassion as they face life’s challenges. And that is as true for those with whom we disagree as it is for those with whom we agree.

This may seem to some to be drawing quite a long bow. We wouldn’t bother, you might say, with the messy and difficult business of politics if we didn’t have to find a peaceful means of resolving the difficult problems created by the need to allocate scarce resources and to ensure that everyone gets a fair share in what is, in the end, undeniably a social and cooperative enterprise.

Because politics is for those reasons inherently about resolving conflict between competing interests, it is inevitable, it might be said, that politicians find themselves at odds with each other (and with each other’s supporters) and therefore use sharp weapons when they fight such battles. We should not be surprised, it is argued, if politics then becomes a business in which the aggressive and one-eyed, those who can’t see another’s point of view, are led to think that they excel and that their aggression is what is needed.

It is then all too easy to conclude that strength in political leadership requires a sharp tongue and unremitting nastiness.

But we need not accept that view of politics. Yes, the disagreements may be sharp and the stakes high – but we are entitled to expect the contenders to show not only that they are human but are good at being human. Humanity – being good at being human – means seeing the other person’s point of view and accepting that differences of opinion may be significant but are not necessarily destructive of society’s broad consensus on what it means to behave in a civilised way.

We could do, in other words, with more kindness in politics. Our leaders have the chance to set an example for us all to follow and a lesson for us all to learn – that we don’t have to agree with our fellow-citizens on every issue as a pre-condition to treating them well, and showing them understanding and, above all, respect.

If that example is set by our leaders, we might then find that there is more kindness, more compassion, more tolerance in our society as a whole, so that we all gain the benefit of living in a better and more cohesive and more harmonious country. And what an example that would set for the rest of the world – including, perhaps, even Donald Trump.

Bryan Gould
8 December 2019