Too much news? Here’s the only political round-up you need.

I spent Saturday evening reporting from the Act Party election event and witnessed a crowd of Act supporters mumble halfheartedly through Sweet Caroline despite the DJ’s increasingly desperate words of encouragement. I tell you this only to give an indication of the headspace I’m currently occupying.

Historic. Landslide. Red wave. Nat-mare. These are all words that have been used to describe the huge win for Labour and the devastating (there’s another good word) loss for National. You can’t throw a rock without hitting a piece of analysis (including on this site, including this very article) so instead of adding to the pile, here’s an assortment of memes.

National lost

About three weeks ago Judith Collins looked as if she might make a good showing this election. Then she said talofa a bunch and talked about obesity for some reason and just didn’t know when to stop until the country voted and said here, stop right here. Her concession speech on Saturday started quite emotional and then turned into a “you’re all fools and you’ll regret this” speech which, sure, go ahead and think it but don’t say it when you literally just lost. 

Absolute power

No one (wo)man should have all that power. Clock’s ticking and Jacinda Ardern, now leader of a political party with the power to (comfortably!) govern alone can do whatever she wants. OK no, she can’t do whatever she wants given the many taxes she vowed not to implement if re-elected. But there’s no New Zealand First handbrake anymore so whatever happens in the next three years will be exactly what Ardern and Labour want to happen. In the party’s list of 10 reasons to vote Labour shared last week, number one was making Matariki a national holiday. I support the notion but when a national holiday is your number one reason for a second term, that’s not a great start.

Chlöe Swarbrick is now alpha

What a race Auckland Central was. Remember when Helen White told Chlöe Swarbrick to drop out? Remember when she said it twice? Remember when Simon Wilson told White to drop out? Everyone was telling everyone to drop out except Swarbrick, who campaigned hard on the ground with her deputy (the vintage green sweater that honestly may have beaten her if it became a candidate). Now Swarbrick has won an electorate that even the most biased of political pundits said she had no hope of winning. We love an underdog win and we love to imagine White and Swarbrick bumping into each other in the Beehive (White got in off the Labour list) for the next three years.

Somebody save Nikki Kaye

Speaking of Auckland Central, outgoing MP Nikki Kaye agreed to commentate during TVNZ’s election special for some reason. It was four hours of Kaye looking miserable while John Campbell and Hilary Barry joked about her comfort eating to get through National’s pain. Was it heartbreaking? Yes. Did I enjoy it? No. Did it inspire a perfect female replica of Sad Ben Affleck? Yes.

The hipsters are back

Swarbrick may have been the star of the night, winning an electorate seat for the Greens for the first time in nearly three decades, but the Green Party as a whole had plenty to celebrate. Despite Labour’s huge surge in popularity, the Greens managed to rise with them, collecting 7.6% of party votes and returning to parliament with 10 MPs. Of all the parties held on Saturday night, theirs looked the most jubilant. Act also had a big night with 8% of party votes, but that 8% was partly overshadowed by the overall dismal state of the right block and the fact that the party was held at Headquarters.

Good riddance to bad theories

Billy Te Kahika, Jami-Lee Ross and Advance NZ barely even registered in the final results. What a pleasant and heartwarming surprise to find that despite being popular on social media with conspiracy theorists and plandemic truthers, the Party of Bad Ideas received virtually no support in the form that counts. To add literal insult to metaphorical injury, Ross appeared on Newshub Nation, apparently for the sole purpose of being – I hope I get this phrasing correct – absolutely owned by Tova O’Brien. Ross has previously complained about being “deplatformed”. Now that his interview has gone viral, he’s on every platform! Unluggy for him, he’s on every platform getting absolutely owned.

Kelvin Davis wrote a poem

Then Kelvin Davis read out his poem as a victory speech on election night. Why did Kelvin Davis do this.

This moustache

This moustache is the president now.

Me, the political operative

A few weeks ago I posted a photo of my colleague’s phone suggesting that since they followed me, they might like to follow Chlöe Swarbrick. This same colleague has since had another recommendation.

And that’s it for me. I would now like to remove myself from this political narrative. Next time my colleague gets a recommendation it will read “Since you follow Madeleine Chapman, you might like officialroyalfamilydancecrew”. See you in three years or on a rabid argument thread about snack preferences. Tōfā soifua and be nice to each other.

With the government set to take shape in the next few weeks, Labour and the Greens will have to decide on the nature of their relationship for the next three years. Andrew Geddis takes us through the options at hand. 

Without even knowing the final election result (there are about 500,000 special votes still to count that are very likely will change Saturday’s results), we can say two things for certain about the next government: Jacinda Ardern will be its prime minister and Labour will be at its core. 

But exactly what shape might this future government take? In particular, what role – if any – might the Green Party play in it? 

From a constitutional perspective, there’s only one real rule. To form a government, you need the support of a majority of MPs. Saturday’s result means that Labour has this all by itself, meaning that Jacinda Ardern has already rung the governor general to say she’ll be advising on the shape of her government “in two to three weeks”. No need to be waiting on Winston in 2020.

Beyond this one concrete rule, the cabinet manual recognises that things are pretty loose and easy: “The process of forming a government is political, and the decision to form a government must be arrived at by politicians.” Whatever arrangement parties want to come to regarding what their government will look like is for them to agree.

There are, of course, some practical considerations relating to the shape of any such governing arrangement. In particular, there’s a strong expectation (sometimes still referred to as a “constitutional convention”) that all ministers who serve in the government will be “collectively bound” to support that government’s decisions. But that expectation stems more from the reality of governing and the need for those involved to speak with one voice. It applies irrespective of the nature of the governing arrangements in place.

Therefore, the primary driver of the shape of the next government is going to be political calculation on Labour’s part. That calculation begins from the point that Labour doesn’t need the Green Party to govern – their 64 seats (possibly 65 after specials) is the single-party majority under MMP that many of us never thought we’d see. But Labour still may want the Greens involved in some way, shape or form; if not because they require their support now, then because demonstrating that such a governing arrangement can work effectively may be important come the 2023 election campaign.

What, then, are the options for Labour to offer and for the Greens to think about agreeing to? And, in a likely vain effort to spice up discussion of constitutional law and practice, what are some increasingly stretched analogies to inter-personal relationships we can apply to each one?

A Labour-Green Party coalition government

This is what existed from 2017-2020 between Labour and the New Zealand First Party, as Winston Peters constantly was at pains to remind everyone (at least up until the election campaign began when he began telling everyone how shit that time had been). In a coalition arrangement, both parties form “the government” together. Each has ministers that sit in cabinet and collectively decide the government’s policy on all matters, which obviously increases a party’s ability to progress policies that they like (and, just as importantly, stop policies that they don’t). 

Note, however, that even a full coalition arrangement doesn’t mean that the two parties have to agree on everything. They can include in their coalition agreement an “agree to disagree” proviso whereby on some specific policy matters they can take different public stances. However, making too frequent use of this clause obviously undermines the whole point of being in government, so it’s very much the exception to the rule that sticking together works better than squabbling.

Think of this sort of coalition arrangement as a full political marriage, complete with both individuals involved operating a joint bank account, choosing schools for their kids, and even taking on a double-barrelled last name.

Chances of this occurring: Minimal-to-zero. As Jacinda Ardern has repeated approximately 10,000 times since Saturday night, Labour has “a mandate to govern”. It simply isn’t going to share that mandate by creating a full coalition partner in a hybrid “Labour-Green government”. 

A Labour government, with the Greens agreeing to ‘enhanced confidence and supply’

This is what the Green Party had with Labour from 2017-2020, and what National had with the Māori Party and United Future between 2008-2017. These “support parties” weren’t formally in government, but their MPs gave their votes in the House of Representatives to permit the “governing party” to form a government. In exchange, the governing party agreed to progress a number of the support party’s policies, and individual members of the support party received ministerial posts in areas of particular importance to the support party. 

What, then, is the difference between this sort of arrangement and a full coalition? Well, the support party ministers don’t get to sit around the cabinet table and take part in deciding all government policies. They only participate in cabinet subcommittees, deciding matters relevant to their individual portfolios. Support parties also retain some more freedom to criticise the government – their ministers, for example, are only bound by collective responsibility in regards to their particular portfolio areas. This gives the support party less power and influence, but greater capacity to differentiate itself from the governing party’s actions.

Think of this as the political equivalent of a polyamorous relationship where you know your partner is seeing other people and are cool with that, as long as you get your regular date night, their help to renovate your kitchen, and you’re generally treated with the respect you deserve.

Chances of this occurring: Pretty reasonable, you’d have to think. The Green Party’s ministers have done a good job over the last parliamentary term in a ministerial team that wasn’t overstocked with high-achievers. And if you want to demonstrate to the electorate that Labour and the Greens can govern together in a responsible and stable manner, then you actually have to, you know, do some combined governing along the way. 

A Labour Government, with the Greens agreeing to ‘confidence and supply’

This was the original “part of government but not really” model from MMP’s early days, as demonstrated by the agreement Labour reached (but never actually signed) with the Green Party in 1999. In essence, the support party agrees to give its votes on confidence and supply matters in exchange for the governing party keeping them informed about policy proposals and giving them the opportunity to contribute to the budget and other policy processes in areas of particular interest.

Think of it as the political equivalent of being someone’s Lovefool – you’ll provide everything they need for their emotional and material wellbeing, in the hope that they’ll listen to you and maybe consider your feelings once in a while.

Chances of this occurring: Zero. There’s a reason these sorts of agreements disappeared from our political scene in the mid-’00s. It’s the same reason every good friend gives whenever they hear the claim “but I’m sure they really care for me, even though they’ve maxed out my credit card, won’t return my texts, and is cheating on me with that floozie Peter Dunne”.

A Labour Government, with the Greens agreeing to an ‘enhanced co-operation agreement’

This is what Labour gave to the Greens in 2005 after NZ First blocked them from having even a support role in the government. Under this agreement, Labour agreed to generically “consult” with the Greens over the government’s plans, while the two parties agreed to co-operate more closely on certain agreed policy and budget initiatives. In addition, several Green Party MPs became government “spokespersons” on particular policy issues and were thus granted direct access to, and the support of, departmental officials. However, these positions fell short of a full ministerial role; ultimately there was no real decision-making power attached to them. 

Think of this arrangement as the political equivalent of showing just enough romantic interest in someone so they don’t ghost you, while making it abundantly clear that, for the moment, ain’t nothing gonna break your stride.

Chances of this occurring: It’d be a pretty cold power move by Labour in that it says to the Greens “we’ll tolerate you for the sake of the future, but the next three years are really all about what we want”.  So how likely is it that a Jacinda Ardern who was prepared to rule out both capital gains and wealth taxes for the sake of political victory will be this ruthless? Yep, it’s that likely.

A Labour Government, with the Greens agreeing to a ‘co-operation’ arrangement

This is all that was offered to the Greens back in 2002, when their votes weren’t needed for Labour to govern (in coalition with Jim Anderton’s Progressive Coalition and with support from the United Future Party). Basically, all it consisted of was a promise that the Green Party would be consulted in certain policy areas with the hope of reaching some agreement on how to proceed, with ancillary guarantees that Labour Ministers would regularly meet with their Green counterparts for briefing sessions. 

It’s the political version of agreeing to schedule a fortnightly cup-of-coffee with a business colleague in order to see if there are any areas of synergy that you can mutually operationalise for future development.

Chances of this occurring: If this is all Labour offers up to them, the real question is whether the Greens will tell them to shove it up their jumper and go full oppositional!

A Labour Government, with the Greens agreeing to something else entirely

The form of agreements between parties in government have changed over time, and pretty much can reflect whatever those involved in the relationship want it to. And there’s no reason to assume that this evolution has ended, so Labour and the Greens are entirely free to think up some sort of new arrangement for the next three years. 

I thought of calling this the political equivalent of a dating app in order to try and appear edgy and cool, but frankly, I think the analogy has well and truly fallen apart by now. So, let’s just say that it will be what it will be and leave it at that. 

Chances of this occurring: As it’s a new thing that hasn’t happened before, it’s pretty hard to predict. But we’ve never had a single-party majority government before, either, so perhaps a new situation calls for a new governing response.