The Origins of An Icon
Many of us are still getting over the shock of the All Blacks’ semi-final World Cup loss. We are beginning to accept that it happened, not because the All Blacks didn’t try hard enough or did not want it enough, but because they came up against what was, on the day, a better team.
As we begin to adjust to the fact that a national icon has lost a little of its lustre, it is perhaps worth delving into our history to explore the origins of another national icon.
It was in this week, 133 years ago, that the Anchor brand was launched. Its birthplace was a dairy factory at Pukekura, in the Waikato, owned by a local farmer and entrepreneur, Henry Reynolds. The name for his butter was inspired, so the story goes, by a tattoo on the arm of one of his employees.
The recipe for the butter he produced was provided by an American, David Gemmell, who was farming near Hamilton and who eventually moved back to America. The market for the new product was greatly enlarged by the development of refrigerated shipping during the same decade.
Reynolds recognised the immense potential market that would be opened up by the advent of refrigeration. He established a cool store in London and sold Anchor butter direct to a range of shops in the capital. He also exported butter to Australia and Asia.
The butter rapidly became a consumer’s favourite, impressing with both its taste and its keeping quality. As well as their success in overseas markets, Anchor’s butter, milk and cheese found their way on to tables across New Zealand and remain familiar items to this day.
And I can still hear and see, in my mind’s eye, my small niece, who grew up on a Waikato dairy farm, excitedly welcoming the daily arrival of the “Anchor tanker.”
And, in all the years I spent in the UK, I am proud to say that my wife and I remained loyal to the Anchor brand, regarding our regular purchases of Anchor butter in English supermarkets as a reminder of home – and the fact that it tasted so good was also a factor.
The success of Anchor has of course played a huge part in New Zealand’s economic development and it can take a good share of the credit for the living standards we enjoy today.
We may be well recognised for our rugby, but the presence of Anchor butter on so many breakfast tables in far-flung countries has probably done more than any other factor to remind people that we exist and of who we are.
And it is worth reminding ourselves that, prominent as have been the All Blacks and great innovators like Ernest Rutherford and adventurers like Edmund Hillary in offering the rest of the world a sense of what New Zealanders can achieve, there are less celebrated figures such as Henry Reynolds who have also made their contribution.
We should also recognise the contribution made by those thousands upon thousands of dairy farmers who have, over nearly a century and a half, and by dint of freezing on countless early mornings and by putting in hours of hard work, produced the fresh and pure milk on which the Anchor brand and New Zealand butter in general base their reputation.
Their role in helping to feed the world should earn the gratitude of us all. As we begin to recognise the threat posed in some respects to our environment by the dairy industry, we should be careful not to throw the baby out with the bath water.
Our task now is to ensure that we develop new ways of farming that will reduce the emission of climate-warming gases. We can expect our dairy farmers to address that task with the same determination, expertise and sense of purpose that have underpinned the success of New Zealand butter in home markets and those around the world.
We can all help by spreading a little more butter on our toast each morning. What could be nicer?
Bryan Gould
29 October 2019
Democracy At Work – Or At Risk
The world seems to be in uproar. From Hong Kong to Chile, from Spain to Syria, disaffected groups are taking to the streets, if not actually taking up arms, to express their dissatisfaction with the regimes under which they live.
If we add to that picture of revolt and revolution the rise of populist, not to say extreme right-wing, factions in countries, like Germany, that are normally orderly and law-abiding, we can be excused for thinking that something unusual is in the air.
And, if we then take note of the policies advocated and implemented by Donald Trump, many of which seem to run counter to the values traditionally embraced by American democracy, we can again see evidence of a loss of faith by ordinary people in the forms of government that rule their lives.
These insurrections of varying kinds may be understandable enough in cases like Hong Kong and Syria, but they are less easily explained away in those countries with well-established democratic governments.
It is in those cases that we are most justified in expressing concern about what is happening. Representative democracy has long been accepted as the best, fairest and most effective and efficient form of government. We would have to think long and hard about the remedies that would be required if it were indeed the case that people have lost faith in the democratic ideal.
If a significant number of countries were to opt out of democratic and representative government in favour of government by despots, dictators and demagogues, the whole balance on which world peace and stability depend would be disturbed.
Fortunately for us here in New Zealand, such fears and concerns seem remote. We might or might not like and support our current government, but we have no reason to fear for our democracy. We can be sure that, if we so decide, we could change the government in a properly democratic election and that the newly elected parliament would be properly responsive to our wishes.
But any complacency about the unchallengeably democratic basis of our system of government should not, perhaps, survive the contemplation of what is currently happening in another and similar country – one with an unequalled history of democratic experience.
In the UK, a democratically elected parliament has quite deliberately and repeatedly refused to endorse and give effect to a decision taken by the British people in a referendum authorised by that same parliament.
The procedural machinations to which the various factions on the Brexit issue have had resort have given rise to accusations from some quarters of undemocratic sharp practice.
It is no doubt true that, in any struggle between parliament and government, most democrats would instinctively side with the elected representatives. But, in respect of the difficulty encountered by the British government in giving effect to the Brexit decision, that does not seem to be so obvious.
While it is true that the British government has itself tried at times to by-pass constitutional principles in trying to implement the Brexit decision, it is those who are using parliament to reverse that decision who are responsible for the greatest breach of democratic principle.
The basic fact is a simple one. More than three years after the referendum decision, a parliament stacked full of MPs elected on a promise to “respect the result” of the referendum has contrived to frustrate any attempt to give effect to the people’s decision.
These MPs have taken it upon themselves to “correct”, as they see it, a mistake made by the people. They have set themselves up as a counterweight to that democratic decision on the self-proclaimed ground that “they know best” – the classic claim by anti-democrats through the ages.
They seem not to understand the risk they are taking. If the British people once conclude that their elected representatives no longer recognise any duty actually to represent them, there is then the real danger that they will lose faith in the whole concept of representative democracy.
They might then conclude, like those elsewhere, that they have no other option than to take to the streets. History tells us that democracy is a fragile flower; if is not constantly nurtured, it will die.
Bryan Gould
22 July 2019
The Luck of the Draw
“Everyone should have a New Zealand childhood.” These are the opening words of the memoir I published as I left British public life to return to New Zealand.
It was an attempt to express my perception that, having been born and brought up in New Zealand, I had started life with a head start. My wife feels similarly about her early life in the UK.
She, however, was not quite so fortunate. She was born in London in the middle of the Second World War, to parents who had to grapple with the hardships of nightly German bombing raids. Her mother worked in a wartime munitions factory, and her father was a fireman who was kept busy as the bombs fell.
But she shared with me the great advantages of loving parents and a stable family life. Neither family was well-off by today’s standards but we were well-fed, adequately clothed and warmly housed. And we both grew up in a world of family support, educational opportunity and expert health care.
These thoughts often come to mind for my wife and me as we watch the daily parade of human misery in international news bulletins on our television screens. So many of these heart-rending stories seem to involve small children, who are completely innocent of any responsibility for the calamities that have befallen them and their families. They are completely at the mercy of events.
Sometimes they are the victims of war – civil war, as in the case of Syria, or international conflict, as with Turkey’s attacks on the Kurds. In either event, the damage and victims are the same – the bombings and shellings, the fatalities and injuries, the disruption of families, the destruction of homes, the search for refuge. The small children who bear these burdens necessarily start life with enormous handicaps.
Sometimes, it is natural disasters – storms, floods, earthquakes, fires, heat waves – that wreak havoc. Or, it may be man-made crises – disease, starvation, homelessness and poverty – that set little innocents back as they begin life’s journey.
My wife’s and my response to these sad stories is a realisation that we are among the luckiest people who have ever lived, and we feel of course enormous sympathy for the suffering endured by so many – especially when the brunt of that misfortune is borne by little children. What are they to make of a life that is so fraught with peril? What chance do they have of a peaceful and fulfilling life, such as most of us can take for granted?
International agencies, like Unicef, and charities, like Oxfam, need and deserve our support; they offer a beacon of light and hope for parents and families at their wits’ end, and for children who are struggling for survival.
But we can also try to transplant ourselves mentally away from our comfortable lives, sitting in front of our television screens, and to imagine ourselves in others’ shoes – to understand that we enjoy our good fortune, not by virtue of any special or superior qualities we may think we possess, but for the simple reason that we were lucky in life’s lottery. We were born in the right place and time.
That does not guarantee us, of course, happiness and fulfilment, but it does give us a pretty good start. We at least have the chance to allow native ability, hard work and determination to produce their expected rewards. Our life chances are not blighted by forces we only dimly understand and have even less chance of controlling.
What we see are, of course, images from a distant world. But, across the globe, we all share a common humanity. We should find it easy to share with the victims of disaster that natural human impulse to do the best we can for our families and to recognise the duty of care that we and they must feel when our little children turn to us for love and support and for the chance to make the most of their lives.
And we should all share the anguish of parents whose circumstances make it impossible for them to protect their children from harm, and the bewilderment, pain and despair those children suffer as a result.
Bryan Gould
13 October 2019
Cards Ruining the Game
World Rugby has got itself into something of a pickle. It is one thing for Michael Cheika to complain about referees’ rulings; but when Steve Hansen joins in with expressions of disquiet about two yellow cards issued to the All Blacks, we know that there must be something seriously wrong.
The Rugby World Cup in Japan is in danger of being discredited as a contest and ruined as a spectacle by the number of cards – both yellow and red – being issued in one match after another. The referees will no doubt say that they are responding to instructions from World Rugby to come down harshly on dangerous play.
Their intentions are no doubt for the best – they are quite right to have regard for player safety and to try to minimise head-high tackles. Rugby players are not usually small and can do considerable damage to fellow-players if they tackle them incorrectly.
The concern is not that the referees are prepared to use sanctions in order to restrain such dangerous play. The problem arises because the sanctions at their disposal threaten not only the offending players, but also their teams as a whole, and ultimately, the viability and meaningfulness of the match itself.
There is a further problem. There are circumstances, quite frequently, where the requirements of the game itself make it almost inevitable that a player will transgress. Where an opposing player is coming (and falling) forward at knee height in the attempt to score a try, the defender is necessarily in a quandary.
If he uses his arms to halt the ball-carrier, he is almost certain to engage that player in the head or neck area. If, in recognition of the rule against head-high tackling, he desists from using his arms, he will be guilty of a “no-arms” tackle.
In either event, he will be penalised. And this is where it gets really difficult.
The referee will not only penalise the offender and award a penalty kick but, in order to signify the seriousness of the offence, will reach for his pocket and issue a card – a yellow one, requiring the player to leave the field for ten minutes, or a red one, that banishes the player for the rest of the match.
The referee might compound the damage by also awarding a penalty try if he believes that a try would, but for the offence, have been scored. And, in terms of piling penalty on penalty, it does not end there; the offender will then be cited after the match and will often be suspended for a significant number of weeks or matches.
And all of this for a player and a team who were doing no more than making a tackle to defend their line. There need have been no malice or ill-intention – the mere fact of physical contact is enough to constitute the offence; it is usually the posture of the ball-carrier that makes a breach of the rules unavoidable.
The referees clearly believe that they are acting under instructions when they impose this range of sanctions. The fact that most games are ruined as contests once a card has been issued seems to be of no consequence.
There is a further puzzle. It is almost as though World Rugby and the referees have come to see an ordinary penalty as ineffectual and having no teeth. But this is a mistake – the award of a penalty kick can have a great bearing on a game.
To concede a penalty can interrupt a period of dominance and good play by the team penalised. It can offer the team awarded the penalty the chance of a kick at goal or, at the very least, of biting off a good chunk of easily won territory, perhaps opening up the possibility of a line-out throw-in and drive, five metres from the opposing line.
We do not need, in other words, the whole superstructure of cards and penalty tries in order to enforce the rules – especially when there is no malevolent intention. The ordinary penalty is in most cases sanction enough. The deliberate or reckless causing of injury is of course a different matter.
Bryan Gould
7 October 2019
Voting in Local Elections
Local government elections are upon us again. It is a fair bet that, when they are over, we will have all the usual complaints that, despite their undoubted importance, the turnout was depressingly low. So, why do local elections attract so little attention and involvement from the general public? I have a possible answer to that perennial question.
It is generally thought, though on what basis I am not sure, that local government is not an appropriate arena for party politics. It is presumably felt that political parties are legitimately concerned with – and are the expected participants in – the contest to produce the government of the country, but have a less obvious role in local elections.
Whatever the merits of this view, we pay a heavy price, I contend, for the absence of political parties from the local election contest. That absence means, first, that the resources commanded by the political parties, and which are available to raise the level of attention and the volume of information available to the voters in national elections, are missing from the local scene.
Voters are therefore less likely to be aware that local elections are taking place, let alone cognisant of their significance or of the issues involved. But there is also a further factor.
My wife and I are keen to do our democratic duty, and we well understand the importance of the functions undertaken by local government. Where we live, there is no shortage of information arriving through the letter box and telling us why we should vote for particular candidates. So, why do we struggle to persuade ourselves to cast our votes?
The problem is that one of the potentially most important pieces of information is usually not available. Although there are often a number of candidates put forward by the local branches of the political parties, they do not identify themselves as having a party allegiance – presumably for fear that they would thereby alienate those who are hostile to the party to which they belong.
But the result is that the voters are left without an important shorthand indicator of a candidate’s views on signifiant issues. What, for instance, is their view of public expenditure? Would they think it worthwhile to raise rates a little in order to afford a valuable local facility? How far would they take into account the wider public interest on issues like climate change?
A party label will often provide a useful clue as to where a candidate might stand on such broader issues. Without that information, we are left to assess the candidates on their own account of their achievements and attitudes, and that often means that the candidates who stand out (if we are prepared to wade through the often quite lengthy and detailed cvs) are those who seem to have some experience of “running things”.
A party label can, in other words, save the voter a great deal of trouble in assessing who to vote for, and could lead to the election of candidates who are more widely qualified than merely on the basis of their individual “business” experience or lack of it.
So, my conclusion is that local elections would produce better outcomes and attract wider participation from both voters and candidates if the political parties made their involvement more obvious and provided essential information to voters about the party allegiances of the candidates they are prepared to endorse.
The candidates themselves should also come clean. Many budding politicians see local elections as the first step on the ladder to a political career. They should learn the lesson early that it is never a good idea to keep secrets from the public.
But the real lesson is that local government is an important element in the government of the country – and, like every part of government, it raises real questions of political belief and principle. It is not merely the domain of the well-intentioned. The voters need to know where their potential councillors are coming from, in terms of their fundamental beliefs about how society should function. Their party political allegiances do not by themselves provide a full and accurate picture of that issue, but – where they exist – they are an important element of that picture nevertheless.
Bryan Gould
1 October 2019