Yes, defence minister Judith Collins still says ‘talofa’.
Judith Collins’ reputation in parliament precedes her, and it’s not what you might expect. She’s widely regarded, by MPs and staffers alike, as highly personable, well-respected among her staff and actually pretty witty. Real recognise real, so I knew we’d hit it off.
It makes sense, after all, because Collins sees herself as one of those relentlessly positive people. She starts her mornings off by playing Bill Withers’ ‘Lovely Day’, and when it feels like “basically everything’s falling apart”, Collins has these affirmations that she tells herself: “Are you alive? Well, this is good. Has someone died? They haven’t, that’s great. So what’s the next thing?”
She’s a very put together lady, this Collins. I’m a little intimidated to be nursing a lager while she’s sipping red wine, and I blurt out that I worry my tastes are too bloke-ish. The former science minister informs me that our taste buds change as we age, so there’s still time for me to enjoy a refined palate – plus, at 25-years-old, I am simply a “baby”. I hope this means my taste in blokes might change, too.
In a corner right next to Pint of Order’s front door, where essentially every passerby tries to sneak a peek at us (or, probably just the minister), Collins tells me she recently picked up archery, will be opening New Zealand Fashion Week on Monday, and has ambitions to pen “a great murder mystery, and now that I’m the minister responsible for the spy agencies, I think I know a little bit“.
She was working on a second memoir, a follow-up to 2020’s Pull No Punches, but life as an electorate MP with seven portfolios means she’s had to shelve her writing projects until she’s fully given up on parliamentary life. “So that would be another decade, the way things are going,” Collins says.
There’s something else we need to discuss: the advice she would give to Green MP Tamatha Paul, who named Collins as her dream drinking buddy across the aisle in the first edition of One MP, One Pint because she reckoned Collins would have some pretty constructive feedback for her. And she does: “you can’t do everything overnight, whatever it is you’re doing.”
“You can only do your best, and not be too hard on yourself if something doesn’t work out … that’s a real hard thing to learn when you are a real self-starter, and you really want to get stuff done. You’ve got to understand you’re part of a team,” Collins says. “Most people come to parliament believing they’re going to add value and they’re there for the right reasons, and you don’t need to dislike people just because they haven’t come to your way of thinking, if they ever will. So don’t take yourself so seriously that you get wound up. Don’t be too hard on yourself if something’s not quite working right, and don’t be too hard on other people. Learn to live with it.”
By the end of our conversation, there’s a word on the tip of my tongue. Collins is telling me about her leadership regrets, and I just have to do it – I have to let her know that despite everything she might feel now, “my husband is Samoan, so talofa” was an iconic moment. She lets me know that she still uses “talofa”, and still finds it “really insulting” when people question whether her “Samoan to the core” husband is truly Samoan.
“Who are these idiots?” Collins asks. “These are the people I block and delete on social media.”
THE SPINOFF PUB Q+A
How much should a pint cost?
I have no idea, I think it depends on where it is.
Do you have a karaoke go-to?
I haven’t done karaoke in a long time … But I quite fancy myself when I do the national anthem.
Favourite place to get a drink in Aotearoa?
It sounds dreadful, but the airport, since I spend so much time there.
Which three MPs would be on your pub quiz team?
Dr Shane Reti has an awful lot of knowledge, he’d be quite useful. I think Chris Bishop would be good too [on] anything political, anything cricket, anything sport.
And looking across the aisle, I’d probably go with my friend [Labour’s] Helen White. We travelled together on a Speakers tour and we had a lot of fun together. I think, even if she didn’t [get the question] right, she would just go along with it and have a great time.
Which MP from across the aisle would you most like to share a drink with?
Well, Winston and I will often have a coffee on Monday morning in the Koru Lounge. I like [Labour’s] Camilla Belich, she’s a good person. I was chair of the regulations review committee in the last few years of opposition, and Camilla was there, and [Labour’s] Rachel Brooking and various others. I don’t mind [the Green’s] Ricardo Menéndez March, we get on quite well – I think we do, I hope we do.
And [the Green’s] Lawrence Xu-Nan and I get on quite well. He’s an Egyptologist, and we got to know each other in the 2023 election when he was the Greens’ spokesperson on science, innovation and tech … so that was quite nice. It’s amazing who you know in this business. As long as people are pleasant and respectful to each other, I don’t care what their views are, as long as there’s something to add.
Is there an alcohol-related law you would like to change?
No, that’s not my business. I really do think people need to stop telling everyone what to do with their lives.
What’s a policy area we’ve been nursing without finishing the glass?
I don’t know. One of my survival mechanisms is that I stay in my own lane.
What qualities make a good drinking partner?
Stories. And knowing when to stop.
Have you ever had a Schnapps election moment where you regretted your political instinct?
Yeah, my big moment that I really regret was answering a call from Amy Adams, and then Nikki [Kaye] came on – it was about July, 2020 – to say that Todd Muller was going to resign the next morning at 7am, and I needed to take over as leader of the National Party. And that wasn’t Schnapps, that was just me sitting and watching TV.
I have thought many times since then, “well, that was a really dumb thing to do.” I was really dumb when I thought, “no, no, no, no, no” – and then, “there’s no one else to do it, you’re the only one who could stand up”. Well, it certainly proved my resilience, but it’s not like you’ve got any thanks for it.
It was 16 months of sheer hell. And my husband told me, “don’t do it! You’re mad!” We had just been talking about how unlucky it was for Todd Muller to have taken over when he did, and next thing I take it, and it’s even worse. So, there we go, that was a dumb thing … it was just this hero thinking she’s going to do this, gratefully accepting that people thought I could do something.
At least I held it together, at least I never gave up, and that’s a good thing, and I certainly proved my resilience. When I was dethroned as leader, that was a great moment of happiness, because it was relief. I dusted myself off, and I got myself up, and I kept on working. And that’s what you do.
Up next on One MP, One Pint: Building and construction minister Chris Penk.


