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Jacinda Ardern and the reshuffled. Clockwise from left: Priyanca Radhakrishnan, Trevor Mallard, Kris Faafoi, Chris Hipkins, Willie Jackson, Poto Williams. (Image: Tina Tiller)
Jacinda Ardern and the reshuffled. Clockwise from left: Priyanca Radhakrishnan, Trevor Mallard, Kris Faafoi, Chris Hipkins, Willie Jackson, Poto Williams. (Image: Tina Tiller)

PoliticsJune 13, 2022

Notes on a pretty darned big minor reshuffle

Jacinda Ardern and the reshuffled. Clockwise from left: Priyanca Radhakrishnan, Trevor Mallard, Kris Faafoi, Chris Hipkins, Willie Jackson, Poto Williams. (Image: Tina Tiller)
Jacinda Ardern and the reshuffled. Clockwise from left: Priyanca Radhakrishnan, Trevor Mallard, Kris Faafoi, Chris Hipkins, Willie Jackson, Poto Williams. (Image: Tina Tiller)

Kris Faafoi is leaving, Poto Williams is demoted, and Trevor Mallard is leaving the country. Toby Manhire attempts to make sense of a blustery reshuffle.

For what was billed as a “minor reshuffle” there was a lot of – what’s the word? – shuffling. It took the prime minister seven-and-a-half minutes to announce the changes, and though Jacinda Ardern can rightly say a bigger reshuffle is coming next year and that today only one new face is coming into cabinet, 15 MPs’ job descriptions change in a significant way – and that rises to 18 if you count the two newbies coming in off the list, the departing speaker, Trevor Mallard, and his near-certain successor, Adrian Rurawhe. Minor it is not.

Why were the prime minister’s spin doctors so keen to sell it that way? Probably because, beyond the shuffling or otherwise, the announcement contained three major news lines, of varying degrees of awkwardness. First: the departure of Kris Faafoi, which left three portfolios vacant. While that was characterised as the domino from which everything followed, however, it was quite unconnected to the second headline: replacing your police minister at a time when law and order is leading the bulletins. Nor the third: the imminent exit of Trevor Mallard from the speaker’s chair, from parliament and from the country.

In the cause of disentangling all of that, below are the main changes, and a cursory thought or two on each.

Kris Faafoi is leaving parliament.

Blame Jason Kerrison. When Kris Faafoi was revealed in 2019 to have assured OpShop man, ark-fan and conspiracy theorist Jason Kerrison that he was doing what he could to help an immigration application, that was the first blight on a highly impressive political career. It had been so impressive that Ardern had begun to load him high with tricky ministerial warrants. The weight of those demands – and the compelling countervailing appeal of a young family – led him to tell the PM he was done. She persuaded him to stay on past the 2020 election.

The deal, apparently, was that he’d stay for a bit, but not the full term, moving to the list so a departure wouldn’t spark a byelection. But ever since, for all his rare smarts, empathy and competence, there’s been a sense in his handling of everything from the media merger to the residency pathway to hate speech proposals that he’s just kind of over it – that his head and heart are already halfway walking his son to school. The prime minister said: “He goes with the love and thanks of his colleagues for his contribution over many years,” and there was nothing spun nor minor about that.

Faafoi’s justice portfolio is picked up by Kiri Allan, who also assumes a new associate finance minister role, while immigration goes to Michael Wood, and Willie Jackson takes on broadcasting and media. 

Allan has not put a foot wrong since she entered parliament in 2017. This is new test, but she has the legal background and, more importantly, intelligence and good judgment. Among her new responsibilities: assess a review of electoral law and decide whether Kim Dotcom gets extradited.

Immigration can be a hot potato, and Michael Wood gets it because, said Ardern, it “fits with his workplace relations portfolio and our focus on skills”. A straight-talking politician cut from traditional Labour cloth, Wood is about as sure as anyone to scrutinise every document that comes across his desk before signing it. But the piles on his desk must be forming towers: in workplace relations there are some big reforms under way, and he also has the daunting transport portfolio to manage.

Like Faafoi, Jackson has a media background – and has already overseen a review of Māori media – but he’s got a couple of big new challenges on his plate. The RNZ-TVNZ merger is hurtling down the track, with only about a thousand important questions yet to be answered. And on the digital front, representing local interests against the leviathans of Silicon Valley is a project that no minister has yet managed to properly get a grip on.

Poto Williams has been shuffled out of the police portfolio and loses building and construction and associate housing, which Megan Woods adds to her housing role, but picks up conservation from Allan and disability issues from Carmel Sepuloni.

Ardern has with varying degrees of rebuke removed ministers before – think Clare Curran, Iain Lees-Galloway, David Clark, Meka Whaitiri, Phil Twyford – but this one felt very much an exercise in disappointment rather than disapprobation. The subtext was: at a time when New Zealanders are concerned about crime and gang warfare, with opposition parties mounting law and order campaigns, the government needs to put up a more battle-hardened, quick-moving performer. It was about “the narrative”, said Ardern. She and Williams had “sat down and had a conversation about whether or not we were able to focus on those issues clearly in the current environment and both agreed we couldn’t and so we’ve made these changes”.

Chris Hipkins becomes police minister – he remains minister of education but associate minister Jan Tinetti takes over a “significant part” of the portfolio.

With the exception of the recent press in which he couldn’t remember the rules for the orange light setting, for which we can confidently blame post-Covid brain fog, Hipkins has consistently proven his command of some challenging portfolios. This new assignment confirms his status as Chris Fixit Hipkins. (Chris Fixthings?) That reflects his conscientiousness and competence, but his workload is immense –he’s also minister for the public service and leader of the house – personifies the argument that there is a shallow talent pool. 

In taking on police, you can expect him to be at once more active in the weeds and dramatically more visible. Just imagine, the time is 1pm and he’s standing beside Andrew Coster to announce there are three new cases of ramraided Queen Street shops but the seven-day rolling average is on the decline.

Hipkins vacates Covid-19 response, which is picked up by Ayesha Verrall, who also gains research, science and innovation from Megan Woods.

Verrall is a very rare thing: she’s been a cabinet minister since being elected. And it turns out it’s very useful to have an infectious diseases physician at the cabinet table during a pandemic. That background means she’ll know better than many that “post-Covid” is a dream not a reality, and she’s as well placed as anyone to set up the inevitable review of New Zealand’s pandemic response and help us get prepared for, gulp, the next one.

Priyanca Radhakrishnan moves into cabinet, adding associate workplace relations to her mix, while whip Kieran McAnulty becomes a minister outside cabinet, picking up emergency management and racing, plus associate transport associate local government tasks, as well as becoming deputy leader of the house, with Duncan Webb now brandishing the chief whip. 

Very good, well done.

Meka Whaitiri remains a minister outside cabinet but picks up food safety from Ayesha Verrall. 

After being demoted in 2018 over an “incident” with a staff member, Whaitiri’s hopes of one day returning to cabinet get a boost. A minor boost, maybe, but a boost. 

Trevor Mallard to leave parliament, Adrian Rurawhe to be nominated for speaker.

Not a cabinet matter, this, but a big ol’ shuffle. Mallard, the speaker, father of the house and a parliamentarian of 35 years, had some time ago signalled his wish to, ahem, “transition out of the role”, Ardern said today. It’s been a popcorn career: polarising, punchy (literally, sometimes), self-important, impassioned and generous. A decent babysitter, too. Adrian Rurawhe is to be nominated as his successor – a popular choice across the house, and, frankly, a welcome change in tone. 

Ardern was emphatic: Mallard’s exit is not a consequence for his irascible management of the house or his provocative and perplexing response to the parliamentary protest. And he’s leaving for an existing diplomatic posting, not to an ambassadorship conveniently magicked up, as it was for, say, Louisa Wall. Where is he going? All we’ve been told so far is “somewhere in Europe”. On which, I will note only this little known fact: Barry Manilow is half-Irish.

Keep going!
Image: Getty / Archi Banal
Image: Getty / Archi Banal

OPINIONPoliticsJune 13, 2022

People like you belong on local boards

Image: Getty / Archi Banal
Image: Getty / Archi Banal

Want something to change in your suburb? You have the power to make it happen, says Devonport-Takapuna local board member Toni van Tonder.

Can you candidate? Yes you can!

If, like me, you’ve spent years of your life watching preschool programmes in a state of tired maternal daze, you’ll now have Bob the Builder’s theme tune frustratingly stuck in your head. Strangely enough, this Auckland Council election slogan has led me to consider the role women, and in particular mothers, can and should play in setting the strategic direction of our glorious city Tāmaki Makaurau. Perhaps I can give you the nudge you need to consider running for your local board in this year’s election.

In the 2019 local elections I successfully stood for my local board. In 2019 I was mother to an eight-year-old, a seven-year-old and a three-year-old. One might wonder what I was thinking, leaping forth into the great unknown of city governance and politicking when there were three small humans at home already jostling for my attention.

I will tell you what I was thinking: I was thinking that there were some things I could fix. These were things that I had never known were a problem until the day I became a mother. Things that, in one way or another, have all boiled down to a single thought: what sort of city do I want my kids to inherit? This is a lens I’ve applied to all my decision-making, taking the long view on how we should shape our city, how to respond to a pressing climate crisis, how to enable housing and grow employment opportunities, how to create spaces that deliver opportunities for human connection, that are equitable, safe and accessible, and how to build community facilities that are future-fit and respond to our changing needs.

An image from Auckland Council’s current campaign to encourage more candidates for local boards

It’s election year this year, and from the end of July people across the isthmus will be slapping their faces up on fences in a bid to win your vote. But there’s not actually that many people putting their hands up for the job. There’s a massive opportunity for more women like me to take part, to bring a unique perspective to the decision-making table. We’re mothers who are not simply content with managing their children’s futures, but determined enough to create the environment that will see them prosper.

For me, the job has been the perfect part-time role. I can work from home when I need to, so sick days taken off for the kids are no longer a thing I worry about. My hours are flexible, so my meetings are set between school drop-offs and pick-ups or in the evenings when my husband has high fived me at the door on my way out.

It’s a job that has been enormously interesting, incredibly rewarding, and at times, entirely joyful. And while it’s been a massive learning curve, that learning has been achieved with the help of committed staff who are there to support me, field my millions of questions and unearth the answers I need to make good decisions. It’s a job where I now intimately know my community and have come to understand various viewpoints on important issues. I’ve gained a better understanding of the challenges others face, which can be so different to my own. It’s a job with meaning.

I encourage anyone new to throw their hat in the ring to be elected. A good local board is a diverse local board, where a range of communities and their views are represented by the mix of elected members. My arguments here to encourage women to stand equally apply to youth (who I might add have a terrible voter turnout at 20%), and people from Māori, Pasifika, Asian or any other minority background. When we start to see people who represent our own views, our own experience, and our own cultural heritage in these decision-making roles, we start to see the relevance of local government and understand that local democracy is for all of us, not just some of us.

So where to begin? If your interest has been piqued, the first step is to look at your current local board. See who is in there already and consider what values they hold. You can go onto the Auckland Council website and read the minutes of previous meetings, look at the agenda items and the voting pattern and see how the vote falls on important issues. Email the local board office and ask to be an audience member in the meetings and dial in on Microsoft Teams. All business meetings are open and while you’re not able to talk, you’re free to observe, listen to the arguments and hear what people have to say and how they say it. This is when you may learn there’s a gap at the table that has your name on it.

Most incumbents, if running again, will be considering now who their running mates will be for this year’s election. From experience, it’s difficult finding people willing to put their hand up to enter the fray, so talking to an elected member who will be looking to run again is a good move. Unless you’re a household name, it’s pretty tricky to run as an independent; what you need are friends, so getting onto a team (called a ticket) made up of existing members and newbies is a good choice. Not only does it give you pals who can help you navigate the trials and tribulations of campaigning, it will also spread the cost and will help extend your reach.

Once you’ve put your nomination paper in and made that commitment, the next step is to simply be you, but perhaps a little more visibly. It’s really important to understand local issues and start listening to as many people as you can in your neighbourhood. Find your community groups, get on the locals pages, start meeting and engaging. What do people like or loathe about the area? What changes do people hope to see? Build your vision and start articulating that in the public realm. Lean on your team for support and remember that this, in itself, is a massive learning journey; be in it for the ride and who knows, maybe the voter will deliver you to your seat. That’s when your values and perspectives will be properly represented at the decision-making table. That’s something worth candidating for!

To learn more about how to “candidate” go to aucklandcouncil.govt.nz/elections.

But wait there's more!