Who is Todd Muller? No, really, who is he?
Who is Todd Muller? No, really, who is he?

PoliticsMay 22, 2020

Here’s what you need to know about new National leader Todd Muller

Who is Todd Muller? No, really, who is he?
Who is Todd Muller? No, really, who is he?

The National Party caucus has come to a decision and Simon Bridges is finally no longer leader. So who is this Muller chap it’s got in to replace him?

You’d be forgiven for not being able to pick Todd Muller out from a lineup. Much like approximately half of the National Party caucus, its new leader is a middle-aged Pākehā family man from an agricultural background that’s most of the way towards going bald.

So who is this guy that emerged from the herd to challenge Bridges? What’s his story, and what do we know about his career so far? Here’s a bunch of things worth knowing about Todd Muller.

He’s only been in parliament since 2014

The MP for Bay of Plenty first took office in the last term of John Key’s government and was around for the transition to Bill English. Interestingly, he never held a ministerial role in that time but did chair a select committee. A fun detail about his political career is that he considered running in the nearby Tauranga electorate when it became vacant in 2008, but didn’t end up putting in a nomination for the seat which was eventually won by a guy called Simon Bridges.

He got his start in politics with the Young Nats

From there, he went to work in former PM Jim Bolger’s office. Bolger returned the favour by coming out and endorsing Muller for the leadership earlier this week.

He comes from a family of farmers and politicians

Muller’s great grandfather Henry Skidmore was a long-serving mayor of Te Aroha and has been a major inspiration on his career. There’s a painting of Skidmore sitting on the wall of his office. Muller’s parents started Kiwifruit company Apata which is now one of the giants of the industry. Muller himself has several kids, all of whom are teenagers.

Muller in his office, next to the portrait of his grandfather, former Te Aroha mayor Henry Skidmore (Photo: Alex Braae)

He grew up in a small farming settlement called Te Puna

Back when Muller was growing up there, Te Puna was to the north of Tauranga – now it’s close to being swallowed up by the growing city. He went to the local Catholic convent school and said in an interview last year that he was the only Pākehā boy there for two years. “I can still vividly remember having to do the haka, and being the little skinny white boy, with the whole school giggling,” he said. The experience clearly left a lasting impression on him, because unlike many MPs, Muller pronounces “Tauranga” correctly.

He then went to Tauranga Boys and joined that school’s Old Boys mafia

Seriously: Black Caps captain Kane Williamson, Team NZ helmsman Peter Burling, and new All Blacks captain Sam Cane all went there. Conspiracy? We can only assume yes.

He’s emerged from a kind of backbench before

A common reaction to Todd Muller’s elevation to leadership contention was: who? But he’s had a similar experience before – after several years of building up a career at Zespri, he moved into a relatively junior role at Fonterra, but it was also one that exposed him to the top brass. During a period of restructuring, former boss Theo Spierings “plucked him out of obscurity” and put him into a senior management job, according to one former colleague. Of course, he didn’t have to get elected to that one in quite the same way, but it still demonstrates that he can be a very fast riser.

He told farmers that climate change is real

As National’s climate change spokesperson, Muller sometimes had to have relatively uncomfortable meetings with parts of National’s base that weren’t so keen on climate policy at all. At one meeting in Taumarunui organised by anti-forestry group 50 Shades of Green, he opened by saying in no uncertain terms that warming was really taking place. It didn’t land particularly well with the room, but he appeared to talk them around over the rest of the speech.

He also got mad at Te Papa over a fairly innocuous water quality exhibition

Muller then became National’s agriculture spokesperson and got a bit more hardline in the process. When Te Papa put out an exhibition on water pollution, a particular display of brown water was labelled as coming from a stream near a dairy farm. Muller sensed a scandal and chased the issue harder than Watergate. He later claimed victory by getting the museum to admit that the water simply had brown dye in it.

He was the boomer who got ‘OK Boomered’ by Chlöe Swarbrick

You can’t see him – he’s out of frame in the video – but it was definitely aimed at him. It was terribly unfair though because, despite all appearances, Todd Muller isn’t even a boomer – he’s technically Gen X.

 

His conscience voting record reveals him to be fairly socially conservative

On pretty much every issue relating to abortion and euthanasia, Muller’s position is in line with that of lobby group Family First. He has common ground there with former leader Simon Bridges but disagrees with his new deputy Nikki Kaye on almost all of it.

He gets on very well with Green co-leader James Shaw

The pair worked closely on getting the Zero Carbon bill over the line, to the point where it could gain the support of the National Party. Some would argue that his involvement ended up weakening the final product, but it probably also made it an enduring framework that will last beyond any change of government.

His default setting for pictures seems to be gazing blankly into the not-too-far distance

Don’t believe me? Look at this one.

National’s agriculture spokesperson Todd Muller, next to an office shelf filled with American political paraphernalia (Alex Braae)

Or this one, taken today by our political editor Justin Giovannetti.

Todd Muller, again gazing blankly

There’s also this one, from his own twitter:

Todd, where are you looking? What is over there?

He’s been gunning for the top job for a long time

As a kid, Todd Muller wanted to be the US president. Since then, he’s clearly decided to settle for New Zealand, but the wide consensus is that he’d long been tipped for National’s leadership. It would also appear that he’d been working up to this challenge for a while – MP expenses came out yesterday and showed a massive jump in Muller’s spending on travel. That could, of course, just be a function of being the agriculture spokesperson for National in an election year and having to shore up support among farmers.

Despite today’s win, he still has an enormous mountain to climb before the election

According to the polls, National is sitting at about 30% right now while Labour is well above 50%. It remains to be seen if National’s ratings will go up as a result of the change in leadership – or even potentially down as a result of the in-fighting. Either way, he’s up against a historically popular PM who’s just faced down a make-or-break health crisis.

Keep going!
Wind turbines on the outskirts of Canberra.  (Photos: SAEED KHAN/AFP/Getty Images).
Wind turbines on the outskirts of Canberra. (Photos: SAEED KHAN/AFP/Getty Images).

OPINIONPoliticsMay 22, 2020

Under cover of Covid, community input into RMA decisions is under threat

Wind turbines on the outskirts of Canberra.  (Photos: SAEED KHAN/AFP/Getty Images).
Wind turbines on the outskirts of Canberra. (Photos: SAEED KHAN/AFP/Getty Images).

Proposed reforms to the RMA would see local communities’ place in the decision-making process replaced by appointed ‘Expert Consenting Panels’. That’s a real risk when now, more than ever, we need open debate on the future of this country, argues Amanda Thomas.

My bubble has been my partner and me, and our geriatric dog. Through the lockdown, the two of us with opposable thumbs have spent weekends hacking and digging away at a stubborn stretch of agapanthus and pampas grass. We’ve been meaning to for a while, particularly since I went to a typically terrifying presentation by Mike Joy about climate change. I biked home from that seminar with anxiety bubbling out of my body, thinking about how I had to hurry up and plant some fruit trees so the neighbours and we would have fruit, at least, in the climate apocalypse.

For many of us who have been thinking for a while about climate change and how we need our society and economy to change radically, this pandemic has given a wee taste of what things might be like in a world where we consume less and shrink our travel networks, and work together with the communities around us.

Aspects of the government’s response have given a hopeful demonstration of what could be done at a national scale to tackle climate change. Clear communication, empathy and collectivity are imperative to how we respond to climate change. Wage subsidies for workers, for example, could be a useful tool to transition jobs away from fossil fuel-dependent industries into just, sustainable work.

Environment minister David Parker (Getty Images)

However, some of my fears about the government response are also being realised. Crises provide a useful cover to push through all sorts of things; for better and for worse.

A freshwater management crisis in Canterbury saw the regional council fired in 2010 and technocrats take their roles for six and half years before there were elections again. People mobilised against the ECan Act and opposition was huge, with one of the biggest protests in Christchurch for 30 years in Cathedral Square on a frigid June day in 2010.

But then the earthquakes happened and people turned towards basic survival. Years rolled on without democracy. In 2012, announcing the further suspension of elections, then environment minister Amy Adams said: “It is critical for New Zealand that the planning governance structure for Environment Canterbury is stable, effective and efficient.”

Now, with proposed reforms to the Resource Management Act (RMA), we can hear exactly the same logic being used, that we need efficiency and technical, apolitical folks to make decisions, not those elected to represent the community.

Under the proposed amendments to the RMA, there will be very little or no input from communities or local councils into whether large infrastructure projects should go ahead. Instead, decisions will be made by an appointed “Expert Consenting Panel” and proposals going through the process will have a “high level of certainty consent … will be granted”.

The notion that decisions about big infrastructure are simply technical, and not deeply political and related to our values and trajectory as a country, is plain wrong. In this regard, it’s hard to see any difference between the current government and the National-led one that preceded it.

It’s clear in the briefing paper by environment minister David Parker that there is a commitment to apply a climate change lens to possible projects. Organisations like the Environmental Defence Society are trusting in the minister’s gatekeeping role as to what projects get through.

But this is a huge degree of trust to place in one minister, especially when we won’t know beyond September who will be in the role or, in the intervening months, the concessions forced by Labour’s most influential government partner.

A man playing the role of environment minister David Parker stares at the task ahead. Photo: Getty

I’m under no illusions that councils and representative democracy in our cities, districts and regions are perfect. Councils sometimes move slowly and get bogged down in their own bureaucracy, or projects get dragged through expensive and adversarial court processes.

Furthermore, each election year, Māori communities have been very poorly served and decisions have often reflected a lack of Māori voices around the table (and on this count significant gains were made in Canterbury when elections were suspended, as Ngāi Tahu had one, then two nominated commissioners of seven representing them).

Likewise, the RMA is problematic. As a citizen, I often find it hard to figure out how I have a say and what is or isn’t relevant to consenting decisions. Engagement also relies on knowledge of technical terms and an abundance of time to read and decipher planning documents.

But bypassing debate and discussion is what led us to Ihumātao and the New Zealand Transport Authority trampling on Ngāti Kuri in Kaikōura. Where there is some scope for iwi input into the reformed RMA, it’s as any old stakeholder, not a Treaty partner.

Excluded from the RMA decision making, people are left with protest and direct action as the ways to express our democratic voice. Much has been won through activism like this. But the policing of protest has long been violent, especially and profoundly when protest is Māori led. The police powers contained in the Covid-19 Public Health Response Act, rushed through parliament last week, further expands the threat of heavy-handed, racist policing.

I desperately want things to change on the other side of the pandemic; there is an opportunity for a more just economy, that is, one built on good, secure jobs that contribute to reducing our greenhouse gas emissions and reflecting a true Treaty partnership.

It’s an economy where the health of all people and the environment underpins everything we do. I am in a hurry to see this economy emerge because I know the feijoa trees we plant in our newly cleared patch are not going to sustain my neighbourhood alone. But bypassing communities, elected representatives and iwi and hapū could lead to the wrong projects in the wrong places.

Instead of limiting participation, we could rethink how adversarial the RMA has become and build in more mediation and fewer lawyers. More than ever, we need vibrant and open debate where local communities are able to have a say and check the power of central government.

I understand the urgency of responding to the pandemic, and I also understand the desperate gnaw of hunger when there is not enough work and not enough food on the table. But rushed legislation, constrained community voice and disrespect of iwi are a recipe for bad decisions that risk locking us into an unjust and unequal economy, and further climate degradation, for even longer.

Dr Amanda Thomas is a lecturer in environmental studies at Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington.

Politics