‘I love others doing karaoke, I celebrate them, I’m all about them, but my voice just cannot be unleashed.’

Nicola Willis and I have caused a bit of a circus in Pint of Order. It’s the last sitting day of the month in parliament, the bar is near-full before 5pm, and our light and camera set-up is holding up passing punters. With her face illuminated in the otherwise darkened pub, everyone walking past sneaks a glimpse at Willis as she sips a Coke Zero, red nails matching a red dress, the woman everyone recognises but no one really knows. It’s not One MP, One Pint’s typical bare-bones operation, but it’s also not everyday that you get to host the finance minister – and National has sent their social media guy along.

You probably know Willis as the woman on the telly who’s more a “figurehead, not actually a human being with a beating heart”, as she describes her role. Holding the finance portfolio is considered the most important job in cabinet (under the prime minister), and Willis sees the role as being “Doctor No” – “the one who has to say, look, I get it, good idea, but the answer is no because there’s not enough money”. It’s not a natural position for any MP to be in, she says, because the kind of people who want to be politicians are yes men keen to do anything to woo potential voters.

“I’m always aware that people see a distance between them, their family and their struggles and this person up in this job called ‘minister’,” Willis says. “I do care deeply about them, but also … they’re going, well, the ‘price of milk’s gone up, I’m worried about my electricity bill and how are you helping me?’ So there’s always a disconnect between the policy work that we’re doing and their experience of that at home.”

The version of Willis now is a far cry from the one who first entered parliament in 2018, she reckons. Back then, she was number 48 on the party list, and after narrowly missing out on a seat in parliament at the 2017 election, she made it in following Steven Joyce’s resignation in March 2018. Now, she’s number two. Emails sent to her office used to focus on criticising her hair; now, she gets a blowout every Monday morning at Rodney Wayne. The mum of four young kids used to love cooking for her family; now, they’re all in the double digits, and her husband is the lead caregiver.

It’s sometimes “awkward” being a mum-turned-minister when your children – aged 15, 13, 12 and 10 – are finally getting their first smartphones. Very few parents have had to explain to their children why they’ve been turned into a meme on Instagram, and she’s thankful her kids don’t share her last name. Between the early starts and late nights, time spent with family is precious, but it also feels like a “genuine trade-off”.

“I want [my children] to be able to look back and say, well, Mum did things for the country that were good, and there was a really good reason for her to have made that sacrifice,” Willis says. “I think about that a lot, and use that as a barometer when I’m making decisions.”

So, who is Willis when she’s not playing the role of minister? Does she have any hobbies? Self-care routines? The weak smile she flashes makes me feel slightly naive for asking. “The honest answer is that my hobbies are being minister of finance, a mum of four and trying to keep it all together,” she says. “I think I’ve become quite realistic about who I am, and I think to some extent, whoever you are, you take the weather with you. The weather for me is I like to be action-oriented … I like the feeling of pressure, if I’m really honest.”

There will be plenty of that this year, with an election on the horizon. The thing that excites Willis the most about the campaign trail is “going full party mode”, she says, and the contesting of ideas that happens when parties try to convince voters they’re the ones with the right plan for how to lead the country. The former member of Victoria University’s debating society is still a fan of the art of the debate, though the people she’d like to argue with the most aren’t always found across the aisle. “Sometimes I think I would like to take off the government hat … and actually have a great debate with David Seymour and Winston Peters about the things we disagree on,” she says.

When the pressure gets too much, there are still the people who know her best. Though the days she spent with mates as university students singing along to Blink-182 and chain smoking at flat parties are long gone. They’ve been replaced with short windows of time spent in Willis’s office between meetings, ordering Uber Eats and trying to find the calm amid the storm.

“My friends have been amazing supports to me, and we still have group chats where we just keep it real,” Willis says. “They love me and see me as this kind, passionate person. So, on a day when there’s been mean things being said about me, it reminds me the people who actually know me love me.”

THE SPINOFF PUB Q+A

How much should a pint cost?

I’m of the view that the best glory days were back at the Vic Uni pub where you could get a jug for $5. That was extraordinary. But now, if a pint is more than $10, I think that’s tough, that’s a lot. And some of the craft ones are, like, $18.

Do you have a karaoke go-to?

This is a terrible thing about me – I have to admit that I’m one of those people who, even if I’ve had a few drinks, doesn’t do karaoke. I love others doing karaoke, I celebrate them, I’m all about them, but my voice just cannot be unleashed because it’s not good and I’m very self-conscious about it.

Maybe I’ll sing in the car, but what I prefer to do in the car is crank the music really loud – excessively loud – and let the beat overcome me. Whereas [in karaoke], my singing is getting in the way of the artist, in my view. I love Fleetwood Mac to sing to, I love Florence and the Machine to sing to – just guttural female singing is where it’s got to be at.

Favourite place to get a drink in Aotearoa?

On the sand dunes on Riversdale Beach [in Wairarapa] – there’s a group of parents who often come together on the beach and we get a Pals or a beer or whatever. It’s just so nice because no one’s got anywhere they have to be, everyone’s had a really relaxed day in the sun, the kids are really happy, we have a pack of chips – that’s my idea of a perfect drinking situation.

Which three MPs would be on your pub quiz team?

I think it would be quite entertaining to have Winston Peters; he does seem to have quite a lot of historical knowledge. I would definitely want Chris Bishop there because his knowledge of pop culture, weird facts of history and, also, extraordinarily over-the-top Byzantine knowledge of New Zealand political history would be useful. Then the person who I’d want there because I know it would be fun and we’d enjoy ourselves is Erica Stanford.

Which MP from across the aisle would you most like to share a drink with?

I’d really love to have a drink with Peeni Henare, because we will miss him from this parliament. He has always been a gentleman to me, he has always been gracious and he is clearly a good man. The person I have had a drink with from across the aisle who I’d definitely do it again with is [Labour MP] Cushla Tangaere-Manuel. She’s great fun.

Is there an alcohol-related law you would like to change?

I read that story recently about the people who went to a [winery] festival in Nelson, and they weren’t allowed to buy a bottle of wine. It had to be decanted with plastic cups, and I thought whatever it is that is making the officials think that is what they have to do is wrong.

We should fix that, because actually, the whole point of responsible drinking is to do it in social situations, to do it in safe ways. And actually a celebration at a vineyard with people in the community is a safe social situation; I don’t think it makes it unsafe to have a bottle rather than a plastic cup.

What’s a policy area we’ve been nursing without finishing the glass?

The whole point for me of the Resource Management Act replacement [is that] we have been talking about this for decades and there have been so many amendments, so many attempts to fix it. It’s such a huge thing that our government has actually said, no, we’re going rewrite it and do it anew. I think that is the glass we haven’t finished yet because we haven’t passed it yet, but it needs to.

One of the drivers for me, aside from all of the red tape and permitting issues, is how the RMA ultimately has been weaponised against housing. It has been used as a tool to stop housing development happening –  I think it’s very closely correlated with the housing affordability crisis that developed in New Zealand.

We’ve had lots of stabs at the housing issue through lots of different means, you know; there was KiwiBuild – lest we forget – and there’s been first-time buyer grants. Ultimately, if you have a legislative set of barriers that stops new housing being able to be built where people want to live, you aren’t going to solve your housing problems. So, getting that law passed and making sure it works to enable housing development I think is critical for the future of the country.

What qualities make a good drinking partner?

Funny, chill, can tell really good yarns. Some of my favourite people to have a drink with are people who’ve had really interesting careers; former cops are great to have a drink with because, man, they’ve got good work stories. People who not only have got good stories, but tell them in that really funny way, and are prepared to do all the talking. Sometimes when I go for a drink, I just want to sit back and be entertained.

I have a lot of good work stories, some of which won’t be told until I leave this place. I had a situation once [while campaigning] where I knocked on a door … eventually when they [answered], they were significantly unclothed. But I recognised them, and behind them was another person who was significantly not very well clothed, and that person was not their person. And the person looking at me knew that I knew. And I just had to say, hey, [this is] obviously a very bad time, I’m sorry. And I ran from the door.

Have you ever had a Schnapps election moment where you regretted your political instinct?

Are you kidding? I’m the person who asked Grant Robertson how big his hole was. My instinct was make this question impactful and concise, and I, of course, meant his fiscal hole. My immediate feeling when I saw everyone cracking up and laughter was, oh my gosh, this is going to be taken as like a personal slur. I was so relieved and grateful when Grant Robertson then made a joke of it and said, “I don’t think it’s in the public interest to answer that, Mr Speaker.”

Up next on One MP, One Pint: Greens MP Francisco Hernandez. Read more OMPOP interviews here.