Only those who close their eyes and minds to the evidence can still be in any doubt that we are facing a climate change crisis. The evidence is conclusive that the world is not only getting inexorably hotter, but also that the rising temperatures are creating a number of other adverse consequences.

The natural balancing factors that keep our global climate in a stable state – especially the polar ice caps – are being lost and the result is increasing climatic instability – rising sea levels, coastal erosion, flooding, slips, severe storms – all of which threaten our existing living standards and, in the long run, the very survival of our life on earth. We are getting perilously close to the point of no return, a tipping point, from which there will be no recovery.

Little wonder, then, that governments everywhere – both central and local – are increasingly being challenged to recognise and respond to the danger by declaring a climate change emergency in their areas of responsibility – and that is nowhere more true than here in the Bay of Plenty.

Growing numbers of government entities – worldwide – have taken this step. But those who have done so or proposed doing so have been greeted with a chorus of disapproval from both cynics and sceptics.

Some of the disapproving voices have been raised by those who profess to regard climate change as a “con”, though quite who would have an interest in – let alone the capability to foist upon us – such a worldwide body of misinformation is not clear.

The more usual objection, however, comes not from sceptics but from cynics. What is the point, they ask, of something that is so clearly just “gesture politics”, a prime example of “virtue signalling”, and that in itself does nothing to address the problem, assuming it is real?

That question deserves a considered answer. First, let us immediately concede that the declaration of a climate change emergency produces no automatic and positive outcomes. It produces no new resources or solutions and provides no new powers. Such a declaration has no legal or statutory force – in that sense, it changes nothing.

But in other senses it is a significant step forward. It is, first, a formal and public recognition by those in authority that the issue is real and that the threat will only become more serious if it is not addressed.

And, it signals a determination to take whatever action is necessary to avert the threatened damage to our planet and our way of life. That signal serves as a constant reminder to themselves of their commitment to act – but is also a message to those they serve, alerting them to the certain need for measures that may be unwelcome.

Even then, however, a declaration of climate change emergency will mean nothing if it is not the prelude to practical consequences.

It should, at the very least, put in place a climate change lens for public authorities through which all issues of public policy can be assessed. It should require the preparation of a detailed climate change agenda and action plan which can be rigorously implemented and adhered to.

It should mean a list of tests and questions to which every element of policy and action – even those with apparently no impact on climate change – should be subjected. A declaration should, in other words, lead to real, hard-edged and committed steps to putting climate change at the forefront of policy-making; there is, after all, if the declaration is to have its full force and effect, no issue more important than the survival of our species and of our planet.

There is also a role here, not just for government agencies, but for ordinary citizens. We must be ready to hold our elected representatives to account for the promises they make to us – through the declaration – to the effect that they have our interests at heart and are ready to do what it takes to protect us.

And we should be prepared to show some understanding of the harsh reality – that the actions foreshadowed by the declaration may at times be inconvenient and costly. We are all in this together. It is a battle we must all fight.

Bryan Gould
7 August 2019

Democracy is important in many senses. It is first and foremost a form of government – famously described as, “government of the people, by the people and for the people”.

It is then a process, which enables us to choose our government; that process, of elections and political parties, is often confused with democracy itself, but elections are merely the mechanism by which we deliver the form of government.

Importantly, democracy also allows us to choose our leaders. Government and leaders are, for this purpose, two quite different concepts.  A government makes the laws and implements the policies by which we organise and govern ourselves.

Our leaders, though, are those who represent us, who embody the values we hold and who bring them to life in both the national and international context.

Democracy, in other words, allows us not only to elect those who govern us but also to choose those who represent and lead us. The former choice is very much a political one; the latter much more a personal choice – and we accordingly tend to choose those whom we like, with whom we identify and whose values we share.

It is this aspect of democracy that is often overlooked, yet that provides us with one of its most valuable benefits. Observers from outside the country will be able to identify the true spirit and temperament of a democratic country by examining the personality of its leader or leaders.

And for us at home, democracy produces leaders with whom we are happy and whom we trust. The choice we make tells us something about ourselves, and is therefore in some senses an exercise in self-respect. The more we respect ourselves, the greater the care we will take to elect leaders who represent us and who, in embodying our values, seem to deserve our respect.

The personal qualities of our recent leaders in New Zealand tend to bear out this analysis. Whether it be the charm, warmth and bonhomie of a John Key or the compassion, concern for others and inclusiveness of a Jacinda Ardern, it can be argued that we have chosen leaders whose qualities not only resonate with us, but which are applauded by our friends overseas.

There can be little doubt that Jacinda Ardern’s profile has greatly benefited New Zealand’s international standing. When our sportspeople perform well at international competitions – World Cups and the like – the good impression created by our prowess on the sports field reinforces the impression given of our national characteristics by those whom we elect to represent us in international forums.

We can afford to feel proud of our leaders on the basis that they provide an accurate reflection of the qualities we value in ourselves. Democracy allows us both to demonstrate our own self-respect and the qualities on which that self-respect is based.

We are not of course alone in choosing leaders who demonstrate qualities of which we can be proud. But our example does make it all the more puzzling that some of our friends overseas do not take the same opportunity.

How can it be, we might ask, that the Americans can use their votes quite deliberately to choose a leader who, in the eyes of the world, does not deserve respect. Whatever other qualities he might have, Donald Trump’s lack of a moral compass – his tendency to lie, bluster and misrepresent, his readiness to divide the country by targeting particular groups as un-American, his treatment of women as playthings, his lack of respect for democracy and the rule of law – bespeaks an absence of, or at least peculiar definition of, self-respect on his part and, as a consequence, on the part of the American people as well.

It is hard to believe that the Americans are willing to have their national identity established worldwide in terms of these qualities.

Until they re-discover their sense of self-respect, the Americans will forfeit one of the most valuable aspects of democracy – the ability to demonstrate to the rest of the world the value they place on themselves. Given that we are not about to lend them Jacinda, we must hope that they can discover by themselves how to restore the foundations of what “made America great” in the first place.

Bryan Gould
22 July 2019

To express concern about foreign ownership and control in New Zealand is often to invite accusations of xenophobia and economic illiteracy. It is worthwhile, therefore, to rehearse the grounds for that concern, and to explore the various forms it can take.

The most obvious manifestation of foreign influence is when New Zealand assets pass into foreign hands. The downsides of that change of ownership are largely to do with the loss of economic benefit.

If a significant part of the New Zealand economy is bought by overseas interests, the economic benefits produced by that asset – the income stream, the capital appreciation, the technological know-how, and so on – flow offshore rather than remain in New Zealand.

The consequence of such developments and of the repatriation of profits to foreign owners across the exchanges is that we are a smaller and less wealthy economy than we would otherwise be, and have greater difficulty in balancing our overseas payments – which acts in turn as an inhibitor to future growth.

We might include, in this catalogue of disadvantage, assets which have other than a purely monetary value. Foreign companies that bottle our water for export to profitable markets overseas, for example, are using an asset to which we do not attach a market price, but we should not kid ourselves that we are losing nothing of value; in a world when clean water is increasingly scarce, to allow its consumption by overseas profit-seekers is short-sighted in the extreme.

The fact that our major commercial banks are owned by Australian interests and that the multi-billion profits they derive from their New Zealand operations are repatriated each year across the Tasman represents a further loss of national wealth and a further burden on our balance of payments.

Nor is that the only price we pay. Given the important role played by banks in our overall economic development, their Australian parentage means that essential elements in the economic management of our own economy are in some senses beyond our control, since the significant decisions taken by our banks will reflect Australian interests rather our own.

So, our own government – however much it may want to see that decisions taken by the banks on interest rates, mortgage policies, and monetary policy more generally, reflect New Zealand priorities – has to deal with important agencies whose primary loyalty is to their Australian owners.

There are other examples of foreign entities, by virtue of their significant involvement in our economy, being able to influence domestic policy to suit their own interests. We need only recall the demand made by Warner Brothers some years back that the influence of trade unions in the film industry should be reduced, and the shameful readiness of the then National government to accede to that demand by changing our labour laws so that film industry workers became self-employed contractors rather than employees, to understand how vulnerable we can be to powerful overseas interests.

We can amplify this analysis by looking at a further instance of potential damage if we allow foreign interests to become too powerful. No one doubts that one of the most formidable obstacles to effective protection of our vulnerable environment is the primacy we accord to profit-seeking enterprises and commercial interests more generally.

How much more significant does this consideration become if the commercial interests involved are foreign, rather than New Zealand-owned? How much more likely is it that environmental downsides will be discounted if the oil company seeking permits to drill in our coastal waters is answerable only to foreign shareholders rather than to the New Zealand public?

And will foreign enterprises display the cultural sensitivity and awareness that are required and appropriate in today’s Aotearoa/New Zealand? Will they understand the value we place on the bicultural and multi-cultural dimensions of life in our country or on the social and workplace advances we have made, often ahead of the rest of the world?

A truly sovereign country will legitimately want to limit the influence of those who are based overseas but seek to play a significant role in our national life – a role that might have deleterious consequences not just for our economy as measured in dollar terms but also for our national identity, our social cohesion and our environment.

Bryan Gould
19 June 2019

Few tears will be shed in the regions at the departure of Christopher Luxon as CEO of Air New Zealand. Under his watch, the supposedly “national” airline lost sight of its national responsibilities and abandoned regional centres such as Whakatane to a future without connecting flights to the Air New Zealand network.

Eyebrows have also been raised at the reasons given by Luxon for his decision to give up his Air New Zealand post. He has let it be known that he has in mind a political career – and not just any old political career but one that takes him into the National party (of which he is not currently even a member) and ultimately to the leadership of that party and thence to the post of Prime Minister.

An enthusiastic supporter has even published an advertisement, showing a face identified as that of John Key transmogrifying into that of Luxon – the Electoral Commission is investigating whether its cost should be counted as an electoral expense.

Most people seeking to pursue a political career do not announce their intentions in advance, but take the precaution of first joining the party of their choice as an individual member, then of attending local branch meetings, then of being nominated to the list of potential candidates and then of presenting themselves to a constituency party in the hope of being selected as a parliamentary candidate at the next election.

To attempt to short-cut that process and simply to announce that he intends to become leader of the National party before he has even joined it speaks not only to a lack of judgment and self-awareness but also to a considerable degree of arrogance.

Nor can we give him good marks for his political knowledge. The notion that someone who has run a large corporation is for that reason well fitted to run the country is a fantasy perpetuated only by those who are still mired in neo-liberal delusion. Running a company (with – usually – the single bottom line of turning a profit) is merest child’s play compared with the myriad responsibilities and goals – not only economic but social, environmental and international as well – required of those who want to run the country.

As the example offered by Donald Trump shows, it is almost impossible for someone accustomed to simply telling employees what to do to adjust to a context in which everyone is entitled to a view and where people have to be persuaded rather than browbeaten.

But the real reason to react with scepticism to Luxon’s self-promotion is that the record shows that business leaders often fail to translate their business success into political achievement – and on that subject I have some personal experience.

As a British MP in the 1980s, I had the opportunity of viewing at close quarters the fortunes of another businessman turned politician. Sir John Davies was a very nice man who exhibited none of Christopher Luxon’s unfortunate hubris. He had been a successful businessman and had even become Director of the Confederation of British Industry before succumbing to the temptation to try his luck at politics. He got himself elected to the Home of Commons and was appointed to join Edward Heath’s cabinet as Secretary of State for Trade and Industry.

The poor man found his appearances in the House to be a nightmare. He simply could not adjust to a scenario in which everything he said was subject to immediate challenge, scorn and ridicule. My own direct experience of him came at a later stage in his political career when he chaired the Scrutiny Committee of which I happened to be a member.

The function of that Committee was to keep tabs on how far European legislation impinged on British law. On that subject, his and my views diverged somewhat (he was a euro-fanatic) but we managed to rub along together quite nicely and I was pleased to see that he found the Committee a more congenial environment than the House itself.

But his example ( as well as countless similar others) should be a warning to Luxon and the National party. Luxon-style hubris is so often followed by nemesis. Simon Bridges can sleep easily in this instance at least.

Bryan Gould
25 June 2019

Few tears will be shed in the regions at the departure of Christopher Luxon as CEO of Air New Zealand. Under his watch, the supposedly “national” airline lost sight of its national responsibilities and abandoned regional centres such as Whakatane to a future without connecting flights to the Air New Zealand network.

Eyebrows have also been raised at the reasons given by Luxon for his decision to give up his Air New Zealand post. He has let it be known that he has in mind a political career – and not just any old political career but one that takes him into the National party (of which he is not currently even a member) and ultimately to the leadership of that party and thence to the post of Prime Minister.

An enthusiastic supporter has even published an advertisement, showing a face identified as that of John Key transmogrifying into that of Luxon – the Electoral Commission is investigating whether its cost should be counted as an electoral expense.

Most people seeking to pursue a political career do not announce their intentions in advance, but take the precaution of first joining the party of their choice as an individual member, then of attending local branch meetings, then of being nominated to the list of potential candidates and then of presenting themselves to a constituency party in the hope of being selected as a parliamentary candidate at the next election.

To attempt to short-cut that process and simply to announce that he intends to become leader of the National party before he has even joined it speaks not only to a lack of judgment and self-awareness but also to a considerable degree of arrogance.

Nor can we give him good marks for his political knowledge. The notion that someone who has run a large corporation is for that reason well fitted to run the country is a fantasy perpetuated only by those who are still mired in neo-liberal delusion. Running a company (with – usually – the single bottom line of turning a profit) is merest child’s play compared with the myriad responsibilities and goals – not only economic but social, environmental and international as well – required of those who want to run the country.

As the example offered by Donald Trump shows, it is almost impossible for someone accustomed to simply telling employees what to do to adjust to a context in which everyone is entitled to a view and where people have to be persuaded rather than browbeaten.

But the real reason to react with scepticism to Luxon’s self-promotion is that the record shows that business leaders often fail to translate their business success into political achievement – and on that subject I have some personal experience.

As a British MP in the 1980s, I had the opportunity of viewing at close quarters the fortunes of another businessman turned politician. Sir John Davies was a very nice man who exhibited none of Christopher Luxon’s unfortunate hubris. He had been a successful businessman and had even become Director of the Confederation of British Industry before succumbing to the temptation to try his luck at politics. He got himself elected to the Home of Commons and was appointed to join Edward Heath’s cabinet as Secretary of State for Trade and Industry.

The poor man found his appearances in the House to be a nightmare. He simply could not adjust to a scenario in which everything he said was subject to immediate challenge, scorn and ridicule. My own direct experience of him came at a later stage in his political career when he chaired the Scrutiny Committee of which I happened to be a member.

The function of that Committee was to keep tabs on how far European legislation impinged on British law. On that subject, his and my views diverged somewhat (he was a euro-fanatic) but we managed to rub along together quite nicely and I was pleased to see that he found the Committee a more congenial environment than the House itself.

But his example ( as well as countless similar others) should be a warning to Luxon and the National party. Luxon-style hubris is so often followed by nemesis. Simon Bridges can sleep easily in this instance at least.

Bryan Gould
25 June 2019