Act preaches free market economics in a literal echo chamber

In what may have been a subtle nod to Act’s 10% polling average, the aircraft hangar-sized room was only 10% full. 

Paul Henry’s voice echoed around the Big Room in Penrose as he tried to get the crowd rarked up for the arrival of his fellow Act candidates. The party had decided to host its campaign launch in a venue which closely resembles an aircraft hangar. In what may have been a subtle nod to Act’s 10% polling average, the huge room was only 10% full. Every sound reverberated off the stainless steel walls. When a security guard’s plastic seat collapsed during a speech, it sounded like a gun had gone off. Henry gamely wrestled through the sound difficulties. “I usually hate admin,” he said. “Quite frankly, if you can't find the loos, you're not good enough to vote for Act”

The former Breakfast host had been on a roadshow in halls around the country and he was in good spirits. He kept on the toilet theme, explaining there were just two portaloos for everyone in the venue. “So if you get in one, my advice is stay there.” His main job wasn’t just talking about turds though; he was there to introduce his colleagues, and their arrival quickly made it clear why the party had hired such a massive venue. All 20 of Act’s top-ranked MPs pulled up in a fluro pink bus emblazoned with the party’s election slogan, “unlock New Zealand’s potential”.

Henry introduced the MPs one by one, but urged the crowd not to clap until everyone was in the venue. It made for an odd spectacle, where each MP emerged from the bus grinning and waving only to be met with dutiful silence. Most just seemed happy to be there. The true star of the show, after all, was the man ranked number one; the guy who’d taken the party from one MP to its current 11-strong caucus. Epsom MP David Seymour bounded on stage to a reluctant standing ovation from the greying crowd, which may have been afflicted by a few aching joints.

Seymour’s speech was primarily devoted to preaching free market economics to the literal echo chamber. He spent a good chunk of it espousing the work of Adam Smith, who wrote ‘An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations’ 250 years ago. Seymour’s – arguably slightly simplistic – reading of Smith’s philosophy was that the government just needs to get out of businesses’ way so it can be more productive and deliver better wages. He even urged government to allow the “invisible hand” of the market to guide people to productive industries.

If there was a second intellectual theme woven into the speech, it was that Labour sucks shit. Henry had harsh words for lefty “twats” in his introductory remarks and Seymour continued in that vein, saying the goal of the next five weeks is to lock Labour out of government. He said the party was rudderless and incompetent, incapable of independent thought. “They’re like an AI counsellor with a parrot voice,” he said. “Someone told Labour it’s too hard to cancel their gym membership, guess what policy Labour announced this week? Polly’s going to simplify your gym membership.”

But despite all the talk about the free market’s merits and Labour’s utter uselessness, Seymour's headline announcement was that he’s enhancing a Labour policy that Act once called “the most expensive way ever invented to give every worker $1,000” and National derided as “a fairly expensive solution to a badly specified problem”. He promised Act would remove tax off KiwiSaver profits if it were elected to government. “People should be encouraged to build savings of their own so they can live a comfortable life in retirement. But the tax system currently works against them.”

In the press standup after the speech, Seymour deftly sidestepped any insinuation Act had somehow changed its views. “We are actually making it less burdensome to be in KiwiSaver,” he said. “So you can be as sceptical or pro KiwiSaver as you like. The Act Party’s common denominator is the Association of Consumers and Taxpayers. We hate tax and will do anything to reduce tax.” 

When The Spinoff put it to him that the policy he was buttressing was originally from a party he held in such contempt, he argued it was actually Labour that had moved. “If Helen Clark and Michael Cullen, bless him, were to reappear in the Labour Party caucus today, they'd be expelled for being too right wing. That's how much the Labour Party has changed,” he said.

Is that true? Chris Hipkins isn’t exactly most people’s idea of a left-wing radical. But Seymour had already moved on. Asked about the echoey room, he had a quip ready to go. “Some people don't even want to hear me once. Other people want to hear me twice,” he said. Pressed further, he let loose another zinger. “I've been told in politics by some of my old mentors that repetition is critical in political communication, and I think we've achieved that here today.”

It was a masterclass in political evasion. Seymour neatly danced through any and all the questions thrown at him. Maybe it would have been worthwhile to reflect on why he’s backing a policy pioneered by a party he thinks is populated by imbeciles, but his market incentives were leading him elsewhere. “Alright folks, I think we’ve got to a certain stage in the stand-up,” he said, before moseying toward the fluro pink bus and the industrial streets outside. There were probably more questions to be asked, but the invisible hand was guiding him down the road.