Act leader David Seymour reviews a political memoir
A few years ago I needed help for a constituent. Someone suggested approaching an advisor to the Minister of Health who used to be an MP. He was very helpful - but wait. A political staffer who used to be an MP?
Our Parliament has constant investigations into MPs who can’t treat their staff as humans, let alone become them. Maggie Barry’s revolving door comes to mind. It’s a culture where only a special kind of person could be an MP, then a staffer, and as proud of their work in both roles.
That’s Peter McCardle, a special kind of person. It’s hard to read his political memoir Party Hopper without cheering him on.
He entered politics in 1990 as a National MP, became a cabient minister with New Zealand First, then worked as a staffer first for Act, and later John Key's National government. His book will have appeal to more than just the beltway tragic because it's the story of an Everyman. New Zealand politics is a kind of squid game where five million people send 120 of their neighbours to a building shaped like a beehive to spend $100 billion a year. In the telling of his story, Peter is all of us. Often bewildered by his surroundings, he achieves more than 95 per cent of politicians by doing what we all learned politicians were supposed to do back in Form 3 social studies.
In places he is comically naïve. “I did not know, for example, like most of the country I suspect, that Parliament sits on only three days a week,” he says of the time he got elected after months of campaigning like his life depended on going there.
McCardle tells us he doesn’t like speaking, debating, or Parliament really, and sits off to the side of caucus meetings. He’s non-plussed by the whole business
He got there after drifting through his early 20s getting plastered in Europe. He found work in the Wellington Employment Office, and tried to help the long-term unemployed, who were growing in number as New Zealand’s zombie economy collides with reality in the 1980s.
The welfare department itself was a Polish shipyard, with endless diktats from head office left on the shelf by branch managers like McCardle. He figured there had to be a better way and, after being ignored by higher-ups, he joined the local branch of National to put things right.
Our hero wins the then Hutt Valley seat of Herataunga, unseating a sitting cabinet minister against the odds. He digs in as a reliable local MP and holds the seat against even longer odds three years later, not before crossing the floor to vote against his own party over Ruth Richardson’s benefit cuts.
McCardle tells us he doesn’t like speaking, debating, or Parliament really, and sits off to the side of caucus meetings. He’s non-plussed by the whole business, which was more tumultuous than usual in the 1990s with MMP, new parties, and party hopping.
And yet, he remains on mission, telling anyone who’ll listen that social welfare needs reforming. It seems amazing today that the New Zealand Government had a Social Welfare Department that gave out money to people without jobs, and an Employment Service within the Department of Labour, supposed to help the recipients find jobs. McCardle's big break to do something about it came with his own party hop to New Zealand First, which made him the Minister of Employment in the first MMP-era Government.
He went about reform the old-fashioned way. He writes, “I had spent much of 1997 visiting district offices, from Kaitaia to Invercargill, sitting down with the staff, explaining the vision, and answering their questions. Most were intrigued to find themselves sitting with a minister who had sat in their seats and done their work, and who knew the challenges and pressures of the job first-hand.”
McCardle’s legacy is merging social welfare and the department of labour into what is now known as WINZ. He also introduced some obligation for getting taxpayer money – a measure that no serious political party opposes today.
Along the way there was horse-trading and politics but even if you know what happened, McCardle manages to create suspense. Will he get to complete his two-decade dream of reform, or will he be thwarted by the bureaucrats/media/opposition/other ministers in his Government?
Our hero prevails and gets to see the human results of his policies when he meets someone ("a shy young man, missing two front teeth") who finds a job through Winz in Dunedin.
“'And what did you do before this?' I asked.
"'Was in and out of prison,' he said.
“'You’re 25 now, yes?' I asked. 'Haven’t you had another job at some time since leaving school?'
“'No, just prison and the dole,' he replied.
“'So how do you feel about this?' I asked. 'I know it doesn’t pay much more than the dole, but how’s it going?'
"He looked straight at me. 'It’s the first time anyone has ever asked me to do something. Love it. The best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know.'"
After nine years as a National, New Zealand First, and independent MP, McCardle continued his multi-perspective overview of New Zealand politics with stints as a parliamentary staffer. He advised ACT, then National for 18 years on and off, and shares numerous sympathetic insights into his various employers and their goals.
McCardle’s story is chicken soup for the democratic soul
Democracy is in decline and under assault around the world, and McCardle’s story is chicken soup for the democratic soul. Someone who, by their own admission, is not a political animal, really can see a problem, go to Parliament, and substantially improve if not fix it.
His sunny disposition finds good in practically everyone from his time in politics. “Mostly good people in all parties," he believes. He also writes, “The standout politician of all this time is clear – Sir Roger Douglas.” Amen.
But it's not an entirely successful account. There are parts in the obligatory ‘my early life’ phase where you can find four consecutive sentences beginning with ‘I.’ Humour is in short supply. There are blow by blow accounts of conversations when parents die that are obviously important to anyone who has them, but everyone has them. The same can be said of the painstaking rehearsal of the Covid pandemic that everyone on the planet just experienced for themselves (pages 300-324 if you want to skip).
You can’t begrudge Peter for wanting to share these thoughts, but they also explain why the book weighs in at 340 pages. It’s written for him rather than you.
Even those faults feed into the book’s central value. It’s a candid personal memoir (sometimes too personal) of a deeply sincere person who believes in the democratic ideal. It’s an inside look at the health and workings of our democracy with a happy ray of optimism shining through.
Party Hopper: The political life of Peter McCardle (Bateman Books, $35) is available in bookstores nationwide.
