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A collage features credit cards, a wine bottle, a silk scarf, and the New Zealand flag. Dollar signs appear throughout, with a faint background of a receipt.

PoliticsMarch 6, 2025

What does a government minister put on the work credit card?  

A collage features credit cards, a wine bottle, a silk scarf, and the New Zealand flag. Dollar signs appear throughout, with a faint background of a receipt.

We’ve crunched the numbers from the latest release of ministerial expenses to bring you this expert analysis of the most curious costs.

The quarterly release of government ministers’ credit card expenses is, on the surface, rather dull – parking, taxis, mānuka honey, All Blacks jerseys (it’s diplomacy, baby), more parking, more taxis – yet also, somehow, fascinating. Glimpsing another person’s receipts, after all, has an irresistible frisson of fiscal voyeurism about it. 

And every now and then, as you trawl through gifts for foreign dignitaries and sandwiches for staffers, a line of text will jump out and beg to be examined by The Spinoff’s crack team of forensic accountants/financial auditors/arbiters of taste. Here’s a selection of curious costs from this week’s release of ministers’ expenses, covering the last three months of 2024.

Judith Collins’ phone basket: $14.90

In November, defence minister Judith Collins (or, more likely, a staffer) nabbed a bargain at Bed Bath & Table on Thorndon Quay: a half-price Claude basket, “crafted with a blend of paper rope and iron for durability, and featuring stylish wood handles for easy carrying”. While more likely designed to house half-finished tubes of hand cream, dried-up bottles of nail polish, rogue tampons, tattered hair ties and the like, this particular basket was destined for something far greater: safeguarding the nation’s security. 

Attendees of meetings with the minister are instructed to chuck their phones into this dapper receptacle before entering the room, presumably in an aesthetically pleasing attempt to thwart covert recordings of proceedings and/or surreptitious attempts to play Wordle under the table.

A receipt from Bed Bath & Beyond is on the left, showing purchases. On the right, there's a white woven basket on a green grid background. Below it, a label describes it as a holding bin for mobile phones outside a Ministers meeting room, priced at 14.90.

Paul Goldsmith’s biscuit tin silk neck scarf: $44 (with staff discount)

While other ministers in need of gifts for dignitaries shop at places like “Trophy Centre” (for the large koru spirals) and “Super Liquor Rotorua” (for the super liquor), when a diplomat made a courtesy call to the justice minister’s offices in September, Paul Goldsmith simply popped down to parliament’s gift shop. It was a wise move: not only does Goldsmith get a 20% staff discount but the parliament gift shop is actually rather good, and this silk neck scarf featuring the design of the beloved member’s bill ballot biscuit tin, a modern icon purchased from Deka (RIP) in the 90s, makes for a charming pressie. (You can also get biscuit tin socks, a biscuit tin mug and this adorable biscuit tin enamel pin, if anyone’s looking to buy The Spinoff’s crack team of forensic accounts/financial auditors/arbiters of taste a gift for any reason.) 

Paul Goldsmith is no stranger to the wiles of parliament’s gift shop, having purchased in 2023 a similar scarf for a visiting overseas minister, this one bedazzled with a design based on the parliamentary library’s stained glass windows.

Receipt image for a Biscuit Tin Silk Neck Scarf purchased for $55 NZD at NZ Parliament. Next to it, a website page displays the same scarf, and below, a handwritten note mentions gifting it during a trip.

Chris Bishop’s Parisian laundry: $358.05

While in the French capital for the Olympic Games in August, then sports minister Chris Bishop spent €75 for himself and €140.23 for staffers on hotel blanchisserie – that’s a total of NZ$358.05 on laundry. What gives, Chris and co? Didn’t pack enough undies for your week-long trip? Couldn’t resist a hoon round the purple sprint track of the Stade de France and had to wash your stinky gym gear? Took a tumble into the merde-filled Seine? Two tips for next time: 1) Les laveries are much more economical and there’s one on almost every Parisian corner. 2) Opt for more forgiving hues – this white-and-beige combo is asking for trouble when croque monsieurs are involved.

A collage featuring two people walking outdoors in casual attire on the right. To the left, there are several overlapping receipts and handwritten notes displaying various charges and tips in euros. The background is a green grid pattern.

Simon Watts’ flag spreaders: $322.81

He may appear chuffed with his “woffice” (Watts + office, geddit?) in this Instagram tour from August 2024, but behind that smile, something’s bothering climate change and revenue minister Simon Watts. He gestures to the New Zealand flag in the corner of the room and the camera hovers on it for a second, before Watts moves on to his office’s various other “aspects and knickknacks”. He makes a valiant attempt to keep up the facade of jollity but, deep down, the minister knows something’s not right. It’s limp, our nation’s flag, flaccid even – you’d be forgiven for mistaking the damn thing for the Australian ensign. 

Three Instagram screenshots of Simon Watts, wearing a shirt and tie, in an office setting with a sign reading "WOFFICE" on the door. The sequence shows them pointing at the sign and next to an office corner with a flag.

Fast-forward to December and things are looking up: Watts’ flag display is lacklustre no longer and he’s positively beaming as he poses in front of it with new climate change commission chair Dame Patsy Reddy.

A collage of images featuring a tax invoice, a signing ceremony with flags and officials, and two people sitting.

What’s Watts’ secret? Two words: flag spreader. If you’re not familiar, a flag spreader is a double-pronged device that attaches to a flag pole, allowing a hitherto floppy flag to be displayed as if it was caught in a brisk Wellington breeze, even when said flag is housed within the confines of the breezeless Beehive. In September, Watts purchased not one but two flag spreaders from the government’s go-to flag purveyor, Petone-based Flagmakers, at a total cost of $322.81. (Flag spreaders can be purchased online for as little as $34.95 a pop, but really, what price true patriotism?) 

So why did he need two of ‘em? Double-flag display opportunities, of course, including but not limited to the signing of double tax agreements with the Republic of Slovenia. 

David Seymour’s flowers: $120 (to be recovered from the minister)

Most ministers’ bills feature the odd unauthorised purchase, which they’re required to reimburse (usually the illicit spend is automatically taken out of their pay packet). In the latest batch there are heaps of contraband coffees (large flat white, sometimes one sugar, sometimes two) for Andrew Hoggard; a pint of Mac’s Gold for one poor staffer of Judith Collins (at least they didn’t have to pay back the $7 fries), and a Herald Premium subscription for Mark Mitchell (Winston Peters, meanwhile, did not have to pay back his subs to the Sydney Morning Herald, the Australian or the Times).

Then there’s David Seymour, whose expenses are brief (a couple of taxis and a suspiciously woke dinner of ramen). But in a glimpse, perhaps, of his romantic side, on August 29 the regulation minister spent $120 at Four Seasons, which the accompanying reconciliation form, listing the charge as a day earlier, says was for “flowers for a ministerial event”. The only ministerial event listed in Seymour’s official diary on August 29 is a policy forum hosted by the Employers and Manufacturers Association. Nothing says fighting red tape like flowers, especially flowers from a florist who rails against cycleways, but even anti-woke flowers aren’t considered an acceptable use of taxpayer money: the reconciliation form notes the cost was to be “recovered from the minister”.

A grocery receipt, two bottles of wine, and a wooden wine box on a green grid background. Items include a LouAmisfield wine and Pegasus Bay Pinot Noir. Handwritten notes and prices are visible.

Nicola Grigg, Todd McClay and Winston Peters: booze

In September, Nicola Grigg, minister of state for trade and investment, splashed out on a $225 magnum of Pegasus Bay pinot noir to take on her forthcoming trip to Laos as a gift, thus adding a good couple of kilos to her baggage weight. On the eve of trilateral trade talks with Australia and Fiji in Rotorua that same month, trade minister Todd McClay grabbed a $40 basket at Moore Wilson’s, then a $64 bottle of Amisfield pinot from Super Liquor Rotorua, which presumably went in the basket, maybe with some crumpled up cellophane and a few snacks he found at the back of the cupboard. 

Winston Peters, meanwhile, prefers a more hands-on approach, in October spending $130 on a bottle of Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc and two bottles of water for a “representation for visiting Portuguese ambassador” at an Auckland location whose name has been scrubbed from the records. The following day he shelled out $116.28 for six glasses of Greywacke sav for a “representation for visiting MPs from Germany” at a similarly unnamed Auckland location.

Given only 45 minutes were set aside for the meeting with Antonio Manuel Albuquerque De Vilhena Moniz, and Tilman Kuban and Nicolas Zippelius were given just a half-hour slot, this shows some serious commitment – but it’s all in a day’s work for a foreign minister as experienced as one Winston Peters. Prost and saúde to that.

Keep going!
Donald Trump raises a hand as he speaks animatedly to media.
Donald Trump speaking in the Roosevelt Room of the White House this week (Photo: ROBERTO SCHMIDT / AFP)

PoliticsMarch 5, 2025

Trump has reignited the tariff war – why? And what does it mean for New Zealand?

Donald Trump raises a hand as he speaks animatedly to media.
Donald Trump speaking in the Roosevelt Room of the White House this week (Photo: ROBERTO SCHMIDT / AFP)

‘Dumb idea’ or not, the reverberations are keenly felt as far away as the South Pacific. 

The white-knuckle opening episode of the second Trump presidency continues: fresh from a bizarre public flagellation of Volodymyr Zelenskyy, Potus has just pressed go on sweeping tariffs on Canada, Mexico and China – the three biggest US trading partners – sparking political outrage and market mayhem.

Wait, weren’t these tariffs suspended last month?

Yes. In February, President Trump agreed to a pause on promised blanket 25% tariffs that were to be imposed on Canada and Mexico, after undertakings were given on border controls relating to illegal immigration and drug trafficking. (A 10% tariff on Chinese imports was introduced, prompting Beijing to level a host of tariffs in response.)

But now, citing a lack of action on those undertakings, Trump has pushed the big tariff button, and doubled duties on imports from China to 20%.

How does Trump justify these moves?

An exercise in “punishment”.

He wants to make it “very costly for people to take advantage of this country”, he explained yesterday. “They can’t come in and steal our money and steal our jobs and take our factories and take our businesses and expect not to be punished. And they’re being punished by tariffs. It’s a very powerful weapon that politicians haven’t used because they were either dishonest, stupid, or paid off in some other form.”

How did the markets respond?

Not well. Amid predictions of a resulting spike in costs for US businesses and consumers, share markets started sweating. The Dow Jones index plunged, finishing the day down by more than 1.55%. 

There is a real risk of flow-on effect, too. According to one analyst, the impact on KiwiSaver accounts could be “pretty ugly”.

How have the countries targeted responded?

Justin Trudeau, who is in his final furlong as prime minister of Canada, said the tariffs amounted to “a very dumb thing to do”. Confirming an array of retaliatory duties, and promising more to come if there was not a backdown, Trudeau let rip. “Today, the United States launched a trade war against Canada,” he said at a press briefing. “At the same time, they’re talking about working positively with Russia, while appeasing Vladimir Putin, a lying, murderous dictator. Make that make sense.”

Trudeau appealed to US residents, saying they would feel the pain of these decisions in cost of living terms: “Your government has chosen to do this to you.” He also suggested that Trump was motivated by a wish to provoke an economic crisis for his northern neighbour and move in to annex the place.

That sounds deranged, conspiratorial.

It would sound that way, were it not for the fact that Trump has repeatedly talked about annexing Canada. 

What about Mexico and China?

China hit back with fresh tariffs of its own almost immediately. “By imposing unilateral tariffs, the US has violated WTO rules and disrupted the security and stability of the global industrial and supply chains,” said a Beijing spokesperson.

Mexican president Claudia Sheinbaum said she would be responding soon.

Is that it, or are there more tariffs on the cards?

That’s not it. Trump has warned there may be more to come, as part of his “America First” trade policy, and that the world should be on notice. Those previewed so far include wide-ranging new tariffs on agricultural products, automobiles and steel and aluminium. 

Surely this wouldn’t take in the friendly South Pacific nation of New Zealand?

Last time around, Trump imposed steel and aluminium tariffs across the board, with a handful of exemptions – New Zealand was not among them. Those tariffs remained in place under Joe Biden. Now there is a prospect of a hike in those duties as soon as next week. There are very real concerns, too, among New Zealand agriculture and food exporters. 

What have New Zealand politicians said about it all?

It’s a tricky one. There is a very real risk in offending the stable genius in the White House – as evidenced by the procession of tech oligarchs and foreign leaders going the other way and genuflecting humiliatingly at his feet to further their interests. 

Asked about the Zelenskyy debacle this week, Christopher Luxon said he trusts Trump and considers the US a reliable partner. He has previously declined invitations to condemn the president’s tariff tear.

Speaking this morning to RNZ, Chris Hipkins, leader of the Labour opposition, would not give a direct answer when asked if he trusted Trump. The main message from the tariff boilover, he said, was the importance of working harder to diversify New Zealand’s export markets. 

And the foreign minister?

Appearing on Newstalk ZB this morning, Winston Peters was asked by Mike Hosking for a thought on the latest Trump headlines. “God,” said the broadcaster, “what a mess!” Peters let loose a laugh, saying, “Well, I think, Mr Hosking, it would be wise for me, in the interests of my country, to keep my mouth shut and wait until the dust settles.” The conversation then turned to Mongolian gift horses.

How about the experts?

Winston Peters is an expert, sunshine.

Sorry, the commentators and so on.

Robert Patman of Otago University counsels against the “stay off the Trump radar” approach. It is “naïve to believe this thoroughly transactional president will not demand major concessions from New Zealand in return for any exemption from US tariffs”, he wrote a couple of weeks ago. “Moreover, it is important that New Zealand, in the words of Christopher Luxon, ‘stands up for its values’ at a time when the Trump administration presents a grave threat to the sovereignty, freedom and prosperity of other liberal democracies.”

He concluded: “It may be tempting for New Zealand to keep its head down and hope for some sort of deal with Trump. That would be a grave strategic error and one Trump hopes our government will make. A better New Zealand strategy would be to reaffirm its friendship with America, but clearly indicate such friendship cannot come at the expense of Wellington’s long-standing commitment to free trade, the rules-based global order and its solidarity with states like Canada, Mexico and Denmark that share these values.”

And for a cheerful American take: speaking to the Wall Street Journal, Andrew Wilson, deputy secretary-general of the International Chamber of Commerce, thought Trump’s tactics could trigger something like, oh, you know, the Great Depression. “Our deep concern,” he said, “is that this could be the start of a downward spiral that puts us in 1930s trade-war territory.”

Politics