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a big irrigator spraying mountain water in the air to try to make the land do something it wouldn't do on its own
Irrigation system working on a South Canterbury sheep farm in NZL. (Photo by Minehan/ullstein bild via Getty Images)

PoliticsAugust 22, 2017

Counting the cost of Labour’s water tax

a big irrigator spraying mountain water in the air to try to make the land do something it wouldn't do on its own
Irrigation system working on a South Canterbury sheep farm in NZL. (Photo by Minehan/ullstein bild via Getty Images)

Just a couple of cents? Hardly. The opposition plan to charge for use of irrigation would impose a major burden, and it is hard to see how it would alleviate water quality problems, argues Megan Hands.

There is no doubt that water management is top of mind for many of us this election, but none more so than our farmers and growers, particularly those with irrigation. It’s struck me that using the word farmer seems to irk many, as if it has some kind of negative connotation.

The reality is that New Zealand’s farmers collectively are a group of thousands of small, often family run businesses and their employees. Many are self-employed and punch well above their weight to compete on a global scale, often up against farmers from nations who receive significant subsidies from their governments to assist with their costs of production, top up their incomes or assist them to undertake environmental works.

Irrigation dates to back the Ancient Egyptians and, simply put, we have it because we need water to grow crops or feed for our animals. In the areas of the country that have the most irrigation, rainfall can be scarce, ranging from just 300mm in parts of Central Otago, through to 500-700mm in Canterbury and Marlborough, as compared with the 1,200mm that falls in Auckland annually. Irrigation is used by some farmers and growers to supplement that shortfall in rain and to remain resilient in drought years.

What then is the likely impact of Labour’s water tax policy on these families and their communities?

Labour leader Jacinda Ardern and environment spokesperson David Parker announce their freshwater policy. Photo by Phil Walter/Getty Images

On the face of it phrases like “polluter pays” or “user pays: may sound appealing, but the balancing of the environmental, social, cultural and economic needs of our communities is more complex than that.

An important point to note from the outset is that nobody in New Zealand pays for water. Even in Auckland, Watercare charges for the treatment and reticulation of water to your home or business, not for the water itself. In the same way as you pay the council through your rates or water bill, Irrigators pay for the infrastructure through consenting, drilling of wells, installation and running of pumping stations or through payments to irrigation schemes with costs of up to $800 a hectare.

When Labour’s policy was first announced, there was little detail of pricing. It appears now we are looking at a price of 2 cents per cubic metre, or 1000 Litres.

For some context, to apply 1mm of water over 1 hectare of land it takes 10,000 litres of water or 10 cubic metres. So, to supplement that shortfall of rainfall and sustain crop or pasture growth it quickly equates to large volumes of water.

To keep the maths simple, a 200ha cropping farm growing grain or grass seeds in mid Canterbury applying 500mm of irrigation water a year would have a new additional tax bill of $20,000 a year.

A 100hectare vineyard in Blenheim might use 199,500 cubic metres of water through a drip micro system and have an additional tax bill of $3,990.

Another dairy farmer well known on Twitter has calculated his annual water tax bill on his farm to be $53,000.

Suddenly a couple of cents doesn’t sound so small.

The key drivers for irrigation requirements are the soil type and its ability to hold water, the crops water demand and the evapotranspiration of the area. In the examples above, grapes have a lower water demand than pasture or grain crops. There is a great deal of science and high level of management that goes into managing irrigation efficiently.

One arable farmer at a meeting in Ashburton on Friday said that he had calculated that at 2 cents/m3 his annual water tax bill could equate to half his annual income. Another wondered aloud what happens if he has a crop failure and he receives zero income for that year but still must pay the tax for the irrigation water he used?

In districts where there are significant areas of irrigation this tax would mean millions of dollars being removed from these local economies in additional tax. In these regional areas, the small towns and cities rely on primary industry to keep them going. For Ashburton and Timaru some estimates have come in around $40 million. Tim Cadogan, mayor of Central Otago, is quoted as saying the tax will cost his district $6 million dollars. That’s millions of dollars not transferred to local tradesman, the local café or the rural supplies store.

This proposed tax has been portrayed as the solution to NZ’s water quality problems, although the more we learn about this policy the more difficult it is to link the purported benefits with the method proposed. If Labour do as they say and return the tax to the areas from which it is collected (minus the percentage that goes to iwi), the areas with the poorest water quality will only receive a small slice of the tax. This is because there is almost no correlation between swimability of rivers and irrigation.

One of the greatest concerns regarding this policy is the possibility it could make meeting required reductions in nutrient losses more difficult. Making changes on a farm to improve water quality is not cheap and any additional money squeezed out of what are often tight budgets may make it more difficult to do so. As an example, $20,000-30,000 can pay for three or four soil moisture meters to aid in more targeted use of irrigation or perhaps part of a new effluent system.

An irrigation system on a South Canterbury sheep farm. Photo by Minehan/ullstein bild via Getty Images

A water tax is a broad-brush approach to what are varied and complex issues. In my view identifying the contaminants causing the water quality problems for a catchment and targeting the management of those at catchment scale is a far superior approach than paying money to a government organisation in the hope that it will be returned to be spent the catchment it came from.

Last Friday David Parker, Labour’s spokesperson for freshwater fronted a public meeting in Ashburton. While I’d already been publicly critical of the approach of a water tax, I wanted to hear what he had to say in more depth than a media soundbite or the 300-word summary on the Labour party website. I’ve also long believed that there is a legitimate conversation to be had about how we should fund environmental infrastructure such as the Managed Aquifer Recharge site in Ashburton, new storm water systems or floating wetlands such as those installed at Te Arawa in Rotorua.

I was bitterly disappointed.

Mr Parker provided photos of poor farming practices to set the tone. Of the farming practices that we were seeing in the photos, not even one of them was related to irrigation and none were from Canterbury. Almost every single one of them would be illegal in Canterbury under the existing Land and Water Regional Plan putting your consent to farm or your access to irrigation water at risk of being cut off.

When questioned on the price, Mr Parker warned the room that he wasn’t there to negotiate and threatened the farmers in the room that if they pushed him it would be 2 cents instead of 1 cent. He continually referred to the farmers in the room as “you people”, taking aim at them and telling them they alone were responsible for the rural urban divide.

It is the responsibility of us all to manage our water well and that includes irrigators, towns and cities, and other commercial users. If we are going to tackle these challenges we must do it together, instead of pointing the finger at one another.

The management of our freshwater is important for our ecosystems, our businesses and our recreation. Water is precious to all of us and deserves far more sophisticated and collaborative policy development then soundbites and feel good election policies if we are to deliver the kaitiakitanga it deserves.

Megan Hands is Environmental Auditor at Irrigo Centre. She has also contracted to the department of conservation and Fish and Game. She writes here in her personal capacity.


This content is entirely funded by Simplicity, New Zealand’s only non-profit fund manager, dedicated to making Kiwis wealthier in retirement. Its fees are the lowest on the market and it is 100% online, ethically invested, and fully transparent. Simplicity also donates 15% of management revenue to charity. So far, Simplicity is saving its 7,500 members $2 million annually. Switching takes two minutes.

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Peter Dunne at Parliament in  2014.
Peter Dunne at Parliament in 2014.

PoliticsAugust 21, 2017

Peter Dunne, the flawed reformer

Peter Dunne at Parliament in  2014.
Peter Dunne at Parliament in 2014.

He leaves office largely unloved, but MP Peter Dunne did more than most New Zealanders realise. Russell Brown goes in to bat for the undercover drug reformer.

I have spent a surprising amount of time in the past few years defending Peter Dunne. And given that the lightning response to the news of his retirement from politics has been largely one of celebration with a dusting of puns on his name, I guess I’m doing it one more time.

Dunne can be hard to like: he often appears pompous and put-upon in public, never more so than in 2015 when he complained in an RNZ interview about the “emotional nonsense” on offer from medical cannabis campaigners. It was rightly taken as a swipe at a dying Helen Kelly and her supporters.

And yet he leaves politics having made his party-of-one’s policy the most radical reform of drug law any Parliamentarian has ever proposed: a Portugal-style decriminalisation of all drugs and a pathway to the legalised, regulated sale of cannabis. Had he remained in Parliament after next month’s election, he would have been a key player in the long-overdue review of the Misuse of Drugs Act.

So why was an unabashed reformer so widely perceived as an intransigent prohibitionist? Why did he perennially draw fire that would have been better directed at others – including the present Prime Minister and his predecessor? Firstly, because for many years he was that prohibitionist. In 2002, his party’s sole demand in exchange for its support of the Clark Labour government was that there be no change in the legal status of cannabis. If reform was ever going to happen, it would have been in that term of that government.

When I interviewed him last year, Dunne insisted that he had never been a prohibitionist, and that the bottom line had been (I paraphrase only very slightly here) simply a sop to the idiots in the caucus of what was at the time the United Future New Zealand Party. The likes of Pauline Gardiner wanted to make the law more draconian, so he decided the path of least harm was to ensure there was no change either way.

It wasn’t terribly convincing – and Dunne does have a habit of reinterpreting history. When a terrifying spate of synthetic cannabis-related deaths made news last month, he declared that this was exactly what he’d told us would happen after the Psychoactive Substances Act suffered its disabling amendment in 2014. Well, no – he had actually made a virtue of an amendment he’d been forced into, and repeatedly assured everyone that the blanket ban on synthetics would do away with the scourge and that any drugs in circulation had been stockpiled from the period of legal sale and would soon run out.

The Psychoactive Substances Act was a defining moment for Dunne in several ways. Many people still believe that Dunne legalised synthetics (they’d been legal for years before, Dunne just briefly gave up trying to ban them) and even that it was a corrupt attempt to aid his son James, who represented the legal high industry (it wasn’t, although the younger Dunne’s legal advocacy had an impact on the shape of the bill).

The act passed in 2013 with but a single vote against, that of John Banks. It looked like a bold attempt to deal with a flood of new psychoactive substances that was defying the efforts of governments all over the world. When the new regime foundered for a range of reasons – from poor execution by the Ministry of Health to the fact that probably no one should take synthetic cannabinoids, ever – that near-unanimous support disappeared and took a lot of Dunne’s political capital with it.

From then on, almost everything he did was governed by political caution. He needed the cover of being able to cite official advice, and the official advice on medical cannabis in particular was reliably conservative.

Peter Dunne opening the Drug Foundation’s parliamentary symposium in July.

And yet, Dunne has clung to the act as his primary means of interpreting reform. He cited it as New Zealand’s model when he spoke at the United Nations last year (I was with British and American reform advocates when he delivered the speech and they were amazed and impressed at a government minister talking about regulation). It’s the means by which the United Future policy proposes legalising cannabis.

In that speech, Dunne called for the addition a fourth pillar to drug policy: “the pillar of boldness”. He has only fitfully shown that boldness. But he has kept the door open to reformers. And more importantly, like Jim Anderton before him, he has allowed his mind to be changed by evidence. Anderton went from an opponent of needle exchanges to championing them. Dunne has gone from rejecting cannabis law reform to being – outside the Greens – the most reliable vote in Parliament in its favour.

Dunne also took a sensible view on drug harm reduction. He has a good relationship with Wellington ED doctor Paul Quigley (who would legalise MDMA if he had his way) and he has readily accepted the evidence in favour of festival drug-checking, going to far as to publicly urge police not to prosecute the testers.

But his big achievement, and one of which he can be justly proud, is the National Drug Policy. It’s a modern, progressive document which strongly prioritises drug use and abuse as a health issue, rather than a criminal justice matter. It is guiding practice in the health sector in a laudable way. The thing it doesn’t do – because it can’t – is propose reform of the criminal law.

It was the work of an associate Health minister with a genuine interest in policy. We actually got a look at how the portfolio might have looked without him in 2013, when he was ordered by John Key to resign his portfolios after refusing to turn over emails to journalist Andrea Vance to an inquiry. Todd McLay stepped in. McLay, as his response to TOP’s cannabis policy this year demonstrated, is not at all interested in the evidence.

Dunne was the Parliamentary host of last month’s Drug Law Symposium. He spoke at the symposium’s beginning and end – and before his closing words, he spent some time sitting quietly in the audience listening to the other speakers. The minister did actually listen.

In the end, you could say that in his Health role, Peter Dunne did both less than he could have – and far more than many people think.


This content is entirely funded by Simplicity, New Zealand’s only non-profit fund manager, dedicated to making Kiwis wealthier in retirement. Its fees are the lowest on the market and it is 100% online, ethically invested, and fully transparent. Simplicity also donates 15% of management revenue to charity. So far, Simplicity is saving its 7,500 members $2 million annually. Switching takes two minutes.

The views and opinions expressed above do not reflect those of Simplicity and should not be construed as an endorsement. 

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