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Nick Loosley was named the 2020 Kiwibank New Zealand Local Hero of the Year for his work with food charity Everybody Eats (Image: Bridget McCarthy).
Nick Loosley was named the 2020 Kiwibank New Zealand Local Hero of the Year for his work with food charity Everybody Eats (Image: Bridget McCarthy).

BusinessFebruary 24, 2020

The Local Hero saving food from landfill to fight poverty and climate change

Nick Loosley was named the 2020 Kiwibank New Zealand Local Hero of the Year for his work with food charity Everybody Eats (Image: Bridget McCarthy).
Nick Loosley was named the 2020 Kiwibank New Zealand Local Hero of the Year for his work with food charity Everybody Eats (Image: Bridget McCarthy).

Last week Nick Loosley, founder of food waste and food poverty charity Everybody Eats, was named the 2020 Kiwibank New Zealand Local Hero of the Year. He talked to Alex Braae about how a more sustainable approach to our food system can help feed those in need. 

There’s a theme of reconnection that runs through the work Nick Loosley does. Reconnecting with the community, with an understanding of where our food comes from, and even reconnecting with our senses. 

Everybody Eats is a fascinating concept that brings all that together. At two sites in central Auckland, it offers “pay what you feel” meals, at which a millionaire might eat alongside someone who sleeps on the streets. The tables are large and communal, and everyone eats the same meal.

And what meals they are, with a range of Auckland’s top chefs doing volunteer stints in the kitchen. The ingredients are all high quality, even though they’re almost entirely sourced from food that otherwise would have been wasted, and sent to be buried in a landfill. At a time when food waste is rife, more than 30,000 meals have been served by Everybody Eats since the concept began.

It started as a pop-up in 2017, feeding rescued food as beautiful three-course meals on Monday nights out of Karangahape Rd restaurant Gemmayze St. Two and a half years later the Monday night meals are still going and last year Everybody Eats opened a permanent home in Onehunga open from Sunday to Thursday. 

So why do it? And what can we learn from the concept that can be brought into everyday life? When Nick Loosley won the 2020 Kiwibank New Zealand Local Hero of the Year award, The Spinoff got in touch to get his insights on how good food can bring people together and start to solve some of our greatest social and environmental issues. 

Last time you spoke to The Spinoff, you’d just opened up a permanent spot in Onehunga. How’s that been going? 

Really well. We’ve been operating since mid-November, taking a bit of a break over Christmas and New Year because we can’t expect to get volunteers over the holiday season. We reopened again mid-January, and almost every aspect is going really well. December and January are very different to the rest of the year in terms of retail and hospitality. 

But you’re getting crowds in?

Yeah, we’re really pleased. And we’re getting a good mixture of haves and have-nots and created a really nice atmosphere to dine in. 

One thing I find really interesting about your whole concept is the idea of stigma, and breaking it down. And the first part of that – have you seen or had to do any work in breaking down stigma among the people you described as “haves” towards eating alongside the “have-nots”?

The biggest problem we have is people that can afford to come and pay saying that they don’t want to come to Everybody Eats because it will be taking food away from a less fortunate person. Which is actually the opposite – if we don’t have people coming and paying, then we can’t feed those who can’t afford to pay. We rely on not necessarily generosity, but even $10 or $20 is enough for us to feed more people. That’s something that we have to try and break. And for the most part, the vulnerable people that we feed are aware of our model, and they’re very comfortable seeing people they assume to be wealthier than them coming and dining. 

Everybody Eats’ new site in Onehunga (Photo: Alex McVinnie)

And in terms of the food waste itself – why do you think some people are so resistant to eating food that otherwise might be wasted? 

To be honest, I’m not really aware of those people because they don’t come and eat with us. Like, very few people would openly say to me that they don’t want to eat food that – to use stereotypes – might be off or bad or whatever they might think it is. 

But to answer your question – my opinion on the whole thing is that humans in the west have become increasingly disconnected from the food we eat. Your grandma’s grandma probably knew how to kill and feather a chicken, skin a rabbit, grow a carrot, whatever it may be. And through the industrialisation of food, we now get minced beef in a styrofoam tray wrapped in plastic. That’s another reason people are so comfortable wasting food, because they didn’t have to produce it. You don’t find many home gardeners harvesting their precious tomatoes and putting them in the bin. 

Are there food safety questions to take into account?

Well, we’re encouraged by labelling to use our senses less than we ever have. Once upon a time people would smell or see things, and understand when something wasn’t OK to eat. Now we look at dates, and they can be really misleading. Dates also create a huge amount of food waste, because if we think if it’s past that date – whether it’s a best-before or use-by date or a display-until date – then we shouldn’t eat it. People might have an assumption that we’re using food that has gone bad, and that might turn them off dining with us. And there’s certainly work that we can do around making people aware that the food we use is actually of a really high quality. We sometimes put photos up on social media to show that we have access to incredible food, often nicer than what you’d get in a supermarket. 

What’s a tip that everyone should know about a common household food that often gets wasted?

If you’ve got a freezer, use it. It’s exceptionally good at preserving a lot of food we use – meat, bread, dairy, you can even freeze your vegetables. Pretty much everyone has one now. We didn’t used to have freezers, and we probably didn’t waste as much food then as we do now, so it’s kind of bizarre. 

Ugly delicious: food that was destined for the bin, on it’s way to bellies (Image supplied).

You rely a lot on volunteers to keep this project going. Why do you think those people choose to do it?

The majority of volunteers aren’t hospitality professionals, it’s anyone and everyone. But to your point, I was really blown away when we started that chefs were keen to give up their time – as we all know, chefs are often underpaid and overworked, and the last thing they want to do on their day off is nice cooking. Everyone knows that when chefs get home they’re making beans on toast. 

But for some reason, we were able to get this group of people in, week after week, and I started asking questions. What I realised was that actually chefs are blue-collar workers, and they can relate more to the people they’re feeding at Everybody Eats – being homeless or people who are struggling – than they do to the people they’re serving fillet steaks to on a Saturday night. And it’s a way for them to use their skills and passion for something positive. 

Do you see this as being a model that could be rolled out on a much bigger scale? Is this the sort of thing that could be happening all over the country, or is it specific to Auckland’s issues?

We’ve identified that there’s a food waste, food poverty and social isolation problem across the country. There are food rescue organisations in some main centres, and some cities in towns are more affluent than others. But for the most part, this concept could be rolled out across the country. There’s obviously a critical mass of people required to make it function, and Auckland is the biggest city, there’s a lot of access to surplus food. We just need to prove that the permanent restaurant model works before we can say let’s do more of it. 

This content was created in paid partnership with Kiwibank. Learn more about our partnerships here

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Breach of duty, indeed fraud, has rarely been constrained in New Zealand by such logic – but we might be about to observe the power of a new handbrake (image: Getty Images)
Breach of duty, indeed fraud, has rarely been constrained in New Zealand by such logic – but we might be about to observe the power of a new handbrake (image: Getty Images)

BusinessFebruary 24, 2020

Litigation funding is a powerful new force policing NZ business cheats and political failures

Breach of duty, indeed fraud, has rarely been constrained in New Zealand by such logic – but we might be about to observe the power of a new handbrake (image: Getty Images)
Breach of duty, indeed fraud, has rarely been constrained in New Zealand by such logic – but we might be about to observe the power of a new handbrake (image: Getty Images)

The rise of litigation funding in New Zealand puts politicians and business leaders on notice – their actions will now be policed by a powerful new sheriff, writes Chris Lee.

In business, as in life, there may be a range of thought processes that quell the temptation to cheat. One would hope that for the non-psychopathic, conscience, morality or simple humanity may be the only handbrakes required. For those with no such instincts the most effective constraint should be the certainty that what tempts them is illegal, that their transgression will lead to being charged, and that the punishment will put a cost on the act of cheating that is greater than the sugar rush of reward.

The easiest example of how the fear of being detected can constrain behaviour is the drink-driving enforcement. We learnt this month that the percentage of road accidents involving drug or alcohol-affected drivers has risen over the past few years, coinciding with a reduction in the number of checkpoints conducted by Police.

The risk-reward odds changed in favour of those who roll the dice and so more people took their chances when checkpoint numbers fell. Neither conscience, morality nor common sense were the deterrent. Being caught, and enduring stigmatism, financial cost and loss of freedom (to drive, or even to avoid incarceration) had become less likely, so more people took the chance.

Breach of duty, indeed fraud, has rarely been constrained in New Zealand by such logic – but we might be about to observe the power of a new handbrake. The catalyst for change will be the new powers of litigation funders, their intervention now being approved by the law-makers and encouraged by the courts. Litigation funders take on complex cases in exchange for a cut of the settlements, providing money, muscle and intellect to challenge poor performance on government and in business. 

They bring to shoddy governors and executives the certainty that they will be answerable to their victims. Litigation funding now has the law’s blessing to intervene in pursuit of justice, funding cases that would otherwise be buried because of the immense cost and skill needed to bring those cases to a conclusion. 

This analogy applies to the controls that investors need when they divert their personal money into an investment product. Those investors expect the people who now use the money, (other people’s money – OPM) to act legally and morally, and to be accountable.

Those expectations were treated risibly by many in charge of OPM in the years around the global financial crisis, especially in the financial sector. Investors relied on the application of the law to sort out illegal behaviour. They waited and waited; in vain.

Anyone who has paid attention to the Hayne’s Commission on banking in Australia, or simply read my book The Billion Dollar Bonfire, will know how the various participants in the finance sector have regularly colluded to permit the mis-use and ultimate theft, of OPM.

The politicians, the regulators, the auditors, the trustees, and the insolvency practitioners, one way or another, colluded in the abuse. In my opinion, some still do. The principal and initial offenders were directors and company executives. They acted with impunity because the law was weak and unspecific, the supervision of the behaviour was insipid at best, and there was no effective enforcement.

There were only rare cases of accountability, and when offenders were accountable, their punishment was often resolved in secret with limp settlements, usually subject to confidentiality agreements and usually met by insurance policies whose premiums ironically had been paid for by the investors, not by the offenders.

We now have a new Sheriff in town, and should all be applauding loudly the arrival of litigation funders in New Zealand. Litigation funding is not new to the world. It is a huge and somewhat ugly industry in America, where the lawyers who enrich themselves from litigating other people’s wars are often called ambulance-chasers. They actively pursue accidents or disasters, persuading the victims to engage lawyers and allow the lawyers to retain say, 30% of the award should they succeed in obtaining compensation from the offenders. They operate on a no-win, no-fee basis.

The cases they chase may be from any accident, perhaps as simple as breaking a leg by falling after stepping in a pot-hole that a council should have repaired. In New Zealand the Accident Compensation Corporation covers those mishaps so litigation funding has had no traction in personal injuries, here. We do not have ambulance-chasers as far as I can see.

If we ever were to have worthy politicians and law-makers we would not need litigation funders to frighten weak business people into behaving properly. Instead we have had decades of political leaders without the wit, the experience, or the personal standards to address an issue that should be a foundation of a decent society.

Politicians like John Key, Bill English, Steven Joyce, and now Grant Robertson needed social intelligence as well as knowledge to address the problem. They displayed shortfalls in those areas. Now litigation funding – indeed just one funder, Level Playing Fields (LPF) – is doing the job that others have cast aside, holding business governors and executives accountable to the law.

Some examples of what the field has achieved in just a few short years:

  • Forced PWC to compensate victims of the serial Christchurch bankrupt, David Henderson. PWC’s audit of Henderson’s Property Ventures Group was so far short of a fair standard that PWC contributed a ‘’secret’’ amount to avoid compensation. That amount is rumoured to have been as much as $100 million, hardly a token penalty, nectar from heaven for the victims of Henderson’s behaviour.
  • Won in the High Court an award against the Ministry of Primary Industries, for its shoddy standards that allowed toxic pollen to be imported. The pollen set free a virus in kiwifruit orchards that cost the orchardists at least a billion dollars. MPI is appealing an award that would restore hundreds of millions to the affected orchardists.
  • Won in the High Court an award of $36 million from some appalling directors of Mainzeal, the failed NZX-listed property company chaired by retired politician Jenny Shipley.
  • Is now funding cases against the directors of CBL Insurance and Intueri whose investors were royally rorted. 

LPF has succeeded in many other lower-profile examples of poor performance, some as humble in scale as a settlement for the investors badly let down by an incompetent financial adviser. It helped with the funding of a case for finance company investors which resulted in a settlement from the company’s trustees and auditors. It’s chaired by a retired Supreme Court Judge (Bill Wilson), was founded by a former lawyer and company director (Phil Newland) and is supported by directors Bruce Sheppard (the founder of the NZ Shareholders Association) and Michael Stiassny (a prominent public company director).

It is changing New Zealand. It might be the factor that ignites increased moral and legal standards in cowardly or self-interested business leaders. LPF is thus addressing a major power imbalance.

That imbalance is itself an example of self-interest and moral turpitude being shielded by poor law, weak regulatory intervention, spineless politicians and law-makers and the globally omnipresent Old Boys Network, the last of these being themselves fed by self-interest.

For example: Trustees appoint insolvency practitioners who direct OPM to lawyers, valuers and bankers. Do I need to spell out the composition of the old boys’ network? Guess who helped the law-makers frame the 2019 version of the Insolvency Practitioners Act? Yet their rich fees are often paid by the very investors the OBN purports to protect.

Government departments, companies and the highest paid directors, executives, auditors, lawyers and trustees buy indemnity insurance that is used to fend off any legal challenges and rarely to settle troublesome cases when the prospect of a win in Court is unlikely.

They hire the best Queen’s Councillors. They connive with the insurers, they obfuscate, they delay and usually their funding out-guns the funding available to victims, resulting in stalemate. They behave like this because they can.

Well, watch out. The likes of LPF have a pool of investors whose resources are sufficient to unpick the tactics of the wrongdoers and their insurers. The litigation funders will not blink.

When cheats and bullies cannot intimidate they come to the table to sort out a resolution. Knowing they shall be held accountable might initiate a change in their behaviour. Investors have a new friend, in the likes of LPF.

Chris Lee heads the Paraparaumu-based stockbroking firm Chris Lee & Partners