I had the good fortune to meet the Queen on a number of occasions when I was a British MP. The occasion that made the greatest impression on me, however, was one in which I was merely an observer.

The hospital in my Southampton constituency had acquired an important new facility and a ceremony was arranged at which the Queen was to open it. I was among a considerable number guests who were invited to attend and who assembled in a small lecture theatre. The Queen had arrived and was welcomed. Shortly before the proceedings were to begin, a small middle-aged woman entered the room. She seemed somewhat flustered, since it was a cardinal rule that no one should arrive after the monarch, and she became even more flustered as she began to search for a space on the tiered benches where she could sit – but no such space could be found.

Eventually, a couple of kind people shuffled along and she was able to find a seat. I was seated to one side and slightly above the room, and so had a good view of this proceeding and of the Queen’s reaction. As the woman settled with a sigh of relief into her seat, I saw the Queen deliberately catch her eye, and smile at her. The woman smiled back and relaxed.

We no doubt expected many qualities from our sovereign – dignity, grace, charm, poise and composure. How fortunate we were to find kindness as well!

Poor Mike Hosking! By his own admission, he lives in a world of his own imaginings. And the issue that occupies those imaginings is, he says, by what margin will Labour lose the next election?

He seems to have passed beyond the world of fact and to be preoccupied with his own wish fulfilment. So badly does he want to see the demise of the Labour government that he can see it, he lives it, he can taste it!

We must worry about his mental stability and emotional equilibrium; how will he handle an election result that, if the polls are right about the doubts that the voters have about Christopher Luxon, will mean that Jacinda Ardern is returned to Premier House?

Waking up to reality can be a painful experience.

Harold Macmillan, when British Prime Minister, once tried to calm the nerves of a young MP who was about to make his first speech from the front bench. The young man had confessed that he did not relish having to address, at close quarters, the serried ranks of those whom he described as “the enemy”.

“They are not the enemy,“ Macmillan advised him, “they are your opponents. Your enemies are behind you.”

Macmillan was making a point that is often not understood by the public. In a parliamentary democracy, politics is two different games being played at the same time.

One is a team game – one team against the other. But within each team, there are a number of other games, with individual team members vying with each other for recognition and preferment.
And, given that politicians are often high achievers in their previous life, and accordingly have a high conceit of themselves, it is inevitable that, from time to time, an individual will feel that he or she is given inadequate respect and consideration by other team members.

In such circumstances, the individual will sometimes lose sight of the team’s interests, and might even focus on harming the team’s prospects, as a form of revenge for what is perceived as a lack of respect from other team members.

Those who have followed the Sharma saga might like to bear these thoughts in mind.

The travails of National MP Sam Uffindell are bad news for the National party in more ways than one. The obvious question is as to how an applicant with such a disreputable history could have secured the nomination as the National candidate in the Tauranga by-election. National’s vetting procedures seem to have been so seriously deficient, if not non-existent, as to suggest something approaching contempt for the voters of Tauranga.

Even worse, the candidate’s personal history reeks of privilege and entitlement. Bullying is almost always the prerogative of those who think they are better than others and who also believe that their special status means that they are untouchable. It doesn’t require a great mental leap to conclude that those are precisely the qualities that one might expect to find in the National party.

The reaction of most voters to the Uffindel saga shows that, in a democracy, the liberties and indulgences taken and shown by the rich and powerful are not acceptable in those we engage to govern us. If they can’t govern themselves, how can they expect to be trusted to govern us?

Even right-wing commentators have, over recent days, and jusrifiably enough, been taking the National leader, Christopher Luxon, to task. They have lambasted him over his soft-shoe shuffle over abortion, for bad-mouthing New Zealand business while he was overseas, and for pretending to be in Te Puke while he was actually on holiday in Hawaii.

The critics had every reason to be critical, but they nevertheless seem to have missed the real significance of Luxon’s shortcomings. They have lamented the fact that his lack of judgment may have reduced the chances of a National victory at the next election. But the real reason to take note of Luxon’s failings is because of what they tell us about the sort of Prime Minister he would make and raise the question of whether he is even fit for that high office.

For Luxon to demonstrate his lack of judgment and probity in this way is bad enough for a Leader of the Opposition – the only ones to suffer are his party and supporters. But for a Prime Minister to show similar weaknesses is worrying for all of us. Mistakes such as these could have a major impact on the lives of all of us and on our country as a whole.

The only comfort is that he has demonstrated his deficiencies in time for us to take the action needed to avoid being affected by them.