The longtime Labour MP shares lessons from John Tamihere, and how he earned his way ‘back into the harem’ after crossing Helen Clark.

Labour MP Damien O’Connor has been around long enough to know he’s far too capable of saying the wrong thing. In a corner booth at Pint of Order, he takes sheepish sips from his pint of pilsner, flicks quick looks at the press secretary to his right and has a few notes written down, lest he forget his karaoke go-to. Behind a cautious smile, you can catch a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. There are not a lot of old boys elected before the advent of the 21st century remaining in parliament, but at least this one knows when to rein it in.

He’s clocked up 33 years of service in the halls of power, though the O’Connor who was first elected in 1993 wouldn’t have imagined he’d last so long. The West Coast native came here without having completed a degree or finished sixth form, after he was kicked out of boarding school over a bit of “smoking and drinking” with his mates. He grew up on his father’s farm in Westport, close to his five male cousins, who include his current caucus colleague Greg O’Connor. Family gatherings were “absolute chaos”.

O’Connor worked farming jobs in Australia and Europe before starting up an adventure tourism business, then putting his hand up to run on the Labour ticket. There’s plenty of transferrable skills between adventure tourism and being a politician, he reckons: “You have to be prepared for the unexpected and rely on your own instincts – with a bit of luck, but then always preparedness.”

Parliamentary life got off to a shaky start; O’Connor was the only new MP who supported former leader Mike Moore in the face of Helen Clark’s successful coup and he suffered a career setback as a result. But through Labour’s ups and downs, O’Connor has also consistently served (bar this current term and the 2008-2011 term) as the local MP for West Coast-Tasman. In his time he’s held 11 ministerial portfolios, including trade and corrections, and would have loved to have been transport minister, if only he hadn’t racked up a few speeding tickets in the 2000s.

In those earlier days, O’Connor used to share a flat with former Labour MP (and current Te Pāti Māori president) John Tamihere and former Māori affairs minister Dover Samuels, who both acted as guides and supports to the young O’Connor. “It was great for me to learn about the culture and politics of Māori, at an iwi and local level,” O’Connor says. “They provided me with some useful guidance, but it wasn’t without tension.” Obviously, the more important question on this living arrangement is, was it much of a party flat? “It was good,” O’Connor grins.

These days, O’Connor’s pretty much a part of parliament’s furniture; so what would it take to get him out of here? “I have to get to the stage where I can turn on the radio and not get worked up and move on,” O’Connor says. “But so far I haven’t been able to do that.” He embodies a rare breed of old school parliamentarian, one who believes “you come for a purpose and as part of a party” and that the job is never really done. The concept of party hopping sends a shiver down his spine; there’s always a chance to “make some adjustments from the inside” when you run with a pack.

As someone whose years on this Earth barely rival O’Connor’s years of service, it’s good to hear from an old dog who has seen parliament change over generations from a House of orators to a House of social media posters. There’s good advice he likes to give to young’uns like me over a pint: back in his farming days when he worked in Switzerland for a time, he was tasked with shovelling cow manure out of a septic tank on the farm. It was a crappy job, but he had to do it properly, otherwise the Swiss farmers would send him back to the shit hole. It taught him the importance of doing a job well: “If you take that attitude to everything you do, then things usually turn out better,” O’Connor says.

So, is he saying that life in a paddock was a pretty good set-up for life in opposition? “I’ve been a dairy farmer,” O’Connor says. “I’ve known how to deal with shit all my life.”

THE SPINOFF PUB Q+A

How much should a pint cost?

$10 or so. When I was at Lincoln University, a jug used to be worth 48 cents.

Do you have a karaoke go-to?

I can do pretty much everything but sing. ‘Sweet Caroline’ requires no tone, no melody, nothing. I went to [see] Neil Diamond, that was the first concert I ever went to, at QE2 [Queen Elizabeth II Park] in Christchurch. My mate Dover Samuels used to pull out the guitar and sing at every opportunity, but, well, I had to be pretty drunk to join him.

Favourite place to get a drink in Aotearoa?

I lived not far from The Moutere Inn, which is the oldest pub in the country, up out of Upper Moutere. It’s still a pretty cool place; they have their own beer, and I’ve drunk there night and day. A few [long nights], but never enough.

Which three MPs would be on your pub quiz team?

Kieran [McAnulty], [National MP] Suze Redmayne – because I’ve seen her in action – and [Green MP] Lawrence Xu-Nan. You have to have Lawrence’s brain.

Which MP from across the aisle would you most like to share a drink with?

Well, I have shared quite a few drinks with Winston. I have to say, he’s pretty good company. He has a wealth of knowledge and an angle on politics which is somewhat unique. [But] I know when it’s bullshit.

Is there an alcohol-related law you would like to change?

Every bar should have a breathalyser in it, and everyone should be able to use it, even if they have to pay a couple of dollars.

What’s a policy area we’ve been nursing without finishing the glass?

There is one area I’ve done a little bit of work, but not enough, and that is on vehicle responsibility. The driver of the larger vehicle is responsible for accidents unless proven otherwise, so you end with a big truck driver who has to watch out for everything else – which they do for the most part – down to a car driver having to watch out for a motorbike, or a motorbike having to watch out for a pedestrian.

The person who’s more likely to be harmed should be protected… There are countries that [do this], we’ve just got to find the right balance. It’s probably not something where Kiwi drivers would immediately think, ‘that’s the right thing to do’, but if we work through it logically and shift our thinking, there will be better drivers, and less accidents.

What qualities make a good drinking partner?

Knowing when to stop. I’ve run with many who don’t.

Have you ever had a Schnapps election moment where you regretted your political instinct?

When I came into parliament in 1993, there was a coup. And there were 14 new MPs, I think it was, and 13 of them voted for Helen [Clark] and I voted for Mike Moore, who lost. You know, it cost me a little bit in politics. It costs you a bit for a while. I had to earn my way back into the harem.

It was on the basis of loyalty – Mike had brought me into parliament, and I was going to be loyal to him, as I have to all the leaders. Well, there’ve been a few of them, but, you know. That’s the best way forward. I get on fine with Helen, but that was the call at the time.