The crucial moment in the Black Ferns’ Rugby World Cup triumph came in the closing minute. The Red Roses had used a penalty to kick to the corner, and from the throw-in that followed they had clearly planned to use a rolling maul to get the ball across the line – a tactic that had already produced three tries for them during the match and that had been utilised on numerous occasions over the long period of their world dominance.

The lineout was clearly going to be the last play of the game and the try would have secured victory. It was expected on all sides that, following the well-established practice of thousands of teams before them that had been faced with this prospect, the Black Ferns would not contest the lineout – a tactic usually justified on the specious ground that jumping for the ball would merely distract from the crucial task of resisting the rolling maul.

No one watching the game could doubt that the odds were strongly on the Red Roses winning the ball and then driving it across the line, whatever desperate efforts were made to withstand them.

Miraculously, however, it now emerges that Wayne Smith, the Black Ferns coach, who had constantly urged his team during their preparation for the World Cup to play with courage and daring had got a message to them that at such a crucial moment they should “Get someone up!”

He was saying in other words – ‘“Don’t follow the usual practice, but contest the lineout.” He calculated that the Red Roses would not expect the Ferns to jump for the ball and would feel able – as usual – to then settle down to organising the rolling maul that they knew would produce the winning try.

When the ball was thrown in, the Ferns duly put up a jumper who surprised the England jumper, to the extent that she failed to catch it cleanly and knocked it forward. The knock-on was signalled by the referee, and because time was up, it meant the end of the match. Daring and the unconventional had produced the victory.

The lesson is there to be learned, not only in the same particular circumstances but also across the game as a whole. Think for yourselves and do what makes sense to you. Three little words made the difference!

Christopher Luxon was, presumably, in his day a dab hand at airline schedules, but he is obviously a little less competent when it comes to running a country. There is a world of difference between focussing on the single objective of the bottom line when running a trading company and facing all of the complex challenges when trying to run a country.

We are now seeing evidence that the National party and Luxon himself are beginning to recognise his lack of experience and his lack of understanding of how challenging the political world can be. What is that evidence? It is that we are seeing more and more of Luxon’s deputy, Nicola Willis, when it comes to the more difficult interviews – not that she seems any better equipped than her leader when asked to clarify National’s policy on the more complex issues.

Willis for Luxon, in other words, is not necessarily an improvement. She seems, just as much as Luxon, to lack confidence in the policy she is asked to explain. One sign of her lack of confidence is the bright red lipstick she chooses to wear – presumably in order to make her mark and to conceal and compensate for her insecurity.

Voters will no doubt register these deficiencies in National’s leaders when it comes to electing those claiming to be ready to lead the country.

Yesterday’s narrow and stuttering win against Japan highlighted an affliction that has increasingly handicapped the All Blacks in the modern era. Time and again, the keen-eyed observer will have seen that the first response of an All Black back, finding himself in possession and with space to move, was to kick the ball (or attempt to do so) – usually with no apparent motive other than to get rid of it. They seemed to have no confidence in their ability to run and pass with it.

This was in marked contrast to the Japanese backline who made serious gains (in territory, confidence and points) by running hard and by clever support and inter-passing. “Aimless kicking” has been the hallmark of All Black rugby for some time now; it seems to be accepted, by players and coaches alike, as the way modern rugby is to be played.

One way of looking at this development is to lament what appears to be the final triumph of the “rush defence” – the tactic developed, largely in the northern hemisphere, as the best way to negate the superior running and passing and catching skills of teams such as the All Blacks.

New Zealand coaches have adopted what is now called “the kicking game” as the best and possibly only way of sowing doubt in the minds of rapidly advancing tacklers, and allowing incisions to be made behind them as they advance. There is, of course, some value in this tactic being used from time to time, but it has become so much the standard response that the ability to do anything different seems to have been lost.

We have almost reached the point where possession is seen as nothing more than an embarrassment, and our players feel more secure by getting rid of the ball, rather than using it in an attempt to score. This attitude is completely at odds with the real point of rugby, which is, after all, to move the ball across the opponents’ line and score a try; possession of the ball is surely the sine qua non of that enterprise?

The Black Ferns show how it should be done.

Students of international politics will have registered the disaster created by the new British Prime Minister, Liz Truss – a disaster which she has now had to disown and reverse.

In what was apparently a feeble attempt to emulate “the Iron Lady”, Liz Truss proclaimed that she would cut taxes for the seriously wealthy and “kick-start” the economy as a consequence. In this, she was demonstrating her belief in what came to be called the “trickle down” theory of economic policy – that, if you increased the wealth of the already wealthy, their increased spending would “trickle down” and benefit the economy as a whole and, in due course, help those who needed it most.

It is a theory that enjoyed a brief period of support during Ronald Reagan’s presidency but was quickly discredited when it didn’t work. Liz Truss quickly discovered that today’s money markets were not persuaded by it either, when the British economy nose-dived and the pound sterling dropped sharply in value. So severe was that adverse reaction that she abandoned the policy and dismissed the Chancellor of the Exchequer she had herself appointed only weeks earlier.

Keen-eyed observers will have drawn the lesson that tax cuts for the wealthy, without any indication of what cuts in public services will be necessary to fund them, are a recipe for disaster. Even keener-eye observers, here in New Zealand, will have seen the obvious parallels between Liz Truss and our own National party. Christopher Luxon has at least had the benefit of a trial run of the policies which he has threatened to impose on us.

Today’s issue of the Herald is a classic. There is, as is always to be expected, the usual swathe of anti-government commentators – in this case, John Roughan, Claire Trevett, Steven Joyce, but – surprisingly – no report or comment on the resignation from the front bench of National MP, Barbara Kuriger, on the ground of her conflict of interests. The only reference to that matter is an invitation to watch and listen to Christopher Luxon speaking on the subject. From the Herald itself, no comment. Their political commentators, so free with their opinions on other subjects, have nothing to say; the only information we are permitted is what the National leader deigns to tell us.

This is surely carrying political bias to extreme levels. The Herald’s probity and accuracy on political matters is now so seriously undermined as to constitute a significant threat to our democracy.