A group of people in red jackets and a man in a suit stand before microphones in a store. “Election 2026” signs are visible on fridge doors and as a graphic overlay.
Chris Hipkins launched Labour’s fair go for families policy on Thursday. (Photo: The Spinoff)

Politicsabout 12 hours ago

Arena Williams steals the show at Chris Hipkins’ no bullshit policy launch

A group of people in red jackets and a man in a suit stand before microphones in a store. “Election 2026” signs are visible on fridge doors and as a graphic overlay.
Chris Hipkins launched Labour’s fair go for families policy on Thursday. (Photo: The Spinoff)

The MP sometimes touted as a Labour leader-in-waiting outshone its current leader as the party launched is fair go for families policy in Māngere.

It’s an enlivened Chris Hipkins we’ve been seeing lately. Labour’s leader spent much of the run-up to the election campaign being harangued by John Campbell on why he’s doing such a bad job. He adopted a defensive crouch as all of National’s MPs joined hands and chanted “tax tax tax” at him in unison. But then came his campaign launch on the weekend. Hipkins stood on stage like Trent Reznor or Taylor Swift and channelled his pain into words. “It’s bullshit,” he said. 

That short phrase seems to have been a powerful release. Since then, Hipkins has spent some time drilling in screws with tradies. He’s joked around with business leaders. On Thursday, he emerged from the carpark at Māngere Budgeting Service’s Otāhuhu office to announce Labour’s new fair go for families policy with some bullshit juice still bubbling in his mojo tank. 

It helped. Hipkins gladhanded a few budget advisors before standing in front of roughly $4,000 worth of butter at the organisation’s Tatou social supermarket to announce his new policy, which will ban a host of sneaky costs including junk car insurance and hidden fees from ticket sellers. 

A group of people in red jackets stands by a man speaking into microphones at a supermarket, with a fridge behind them and “$4000” written in red over dairy products in the background.
Chris Hipkins and Arena Williams next to $4,000 worth of butter. (Photo: The Spinoff)

Though some might see it as a bit cynical to just ban a list of people’s pet peeves and annoyances, he sold it well. “Across the board, New Zealanders are being fleeced of their money, and the government can do something about that,” he said. Besides, he pointed out, for many of us these aren’t minor irritations. Junk insurance in particular can be a real millstone for many of the people accessing Māngere Budgeting Service. “Businesses should be making money by providing valuable products and services, not by tricking people out of their money.” 

It was going fine. But then some weird detritus appeared in Hipkins’ mouth and he turned to sneeze powerfully during the media standup. Maybe some of that mojo spewed out onto the fridge doors at Tatou along with his half-eaten lozenge, because Hipkins was a little bit less sure-footed afterward. Thankfully for him, Labour’s commerce and consumer affairs spokesperson was there to pick up the slack. Arena Williams had a firm grasp of the details on the new policy. Faced with questions about whether companies would just put their prices up in response to the various bans, she was defiant, saying they should have been upfront about the actual cost of their products in the first place. “If the real price is $65 a week, or if the real price is $18 a week, consumers should be able to procure those services at those prices,” she said.

Williams even revealed an extra tidbit to The Spinoff. Though it wasn’t part of the headlines handed out to the media, Labour plans to ban paywave fees as part of its new policy, putting the fees to use the service back on banks and credit card companies rather than small businesses. “Consumers should pay the sticker price, not extra charges at the till,” she said in a statement.

Williams is sometimes touted as a future Labour leader, and she probably eclipsed the current one in Māngere yesterday. But Hipkins had one task left after his press standup, and that was carrying out a staged conversation with two budget advisors in front of a pack of cameras. He gamely stood next to the seated pair to talk about how his party’s policy might help their clients. 

Four people talk in an office. Two sit at a table, one with a lanyard gestures while speaking. Two others, one holding a red microphone, stand with their backs to the camera. Computer monitors and papers are on the table.
Just a normal human conversation for Chris Hipkins. (Photo: The Spinoff)

Being a politician is weird. Being a politician during an election campaign is even weirder. But Hipkins managed to pull off a convincing simulation of a human conversation, asking Jack Leary and Jonna Nimot whether their clients often end up paying fees they shouldn’t incur or get trapped in subscriptions they don’t need. Afterward, Leary was positive about the exchange despite the odd setting. “I was nervous. But he’s actually got a really good way with people” he said, with only a modicum of surprise. Nimot agreed. “Whether you’re poor, medium, or rich, he’ll come to your level,” she added. When you’re campaigning, appearing to be a regular person is half the battle. Hipkins may not seem like the guy you want to have a beer with at a barbecue. But if you need someone to sit down and shoot the bullshit, apparently you could do a lot worse.