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Photos: Getty Images, supplied
Photos: Getty Images, supplied

OPINIONPoliticsMarch 27, 2025

Am I allowed to be scared of the police? An argument with myself

Photos: Getty Images, supplied
Photos: Getty Images, supplied

Green MP Tamatha Paul was widely criticised for suggesting not everyone wants to see more police on the beat. Is that really such a crazy idea? Lyric Waiwiri-Smith argues with Lyric Waiwiri-Smith.

Comments made by Wellington Central MP Tamatha Paul that she had heard from “a lot” of her constituents in that they “do not want to see police officers everywhere” as “heaps of cops” make them “feel less safe” have copped flak from the police minister, the prime minister, the Act Party, Winston Peters, Chris Hipkins and various corners of social media comment sections.

But Paul’s police stance is definitely not the most insane take to have in 2025, especially taking into account the history of police violence, particularly against Māori.

Yes, seeing more police out and about provides a sense of comfort and safety to many people, even if they don’t actually see them doing anything – just their presence is enough to disquiet fears of being harmed. There are few other figures in this country with that ability.

On the other hand, there are also plenty of people who will see a group of police officers and feel the exact opposite. The anxiety bubbles in their chest, the dormant trauma they’ve stored in their body reawakens, they worry they will be targeted, they instantly feel guilty for simply being alive.

Someone does need to sort out all this bullshit though, right? Almost every day you walk down Manners Street and Te Aro Park and think to yourself, ‘shit, this place has gone to the dogs’. There’s drug abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse … And then you go to work and read at least 15 horrific crime stories in the Herald.

Too right – sometimes I think I digest so much crime that it makes me feel genuinely depressed about the world, and I can’t be the only one. I also can’t help but notice when I walk down Manners Street that there’s a defunct community centre, and most others walking through there treat the streeties with a caution that is akin to contempt, like they’re an obvious problem that should be swiftly and quietly dealt with.

A history of being targeted by police means many Māori fear a police presence (Photo: Lyric Waiwiri-Smith)

It just makes me think that there could be a better way to deal with these things, you know? Like maybe we should be asking ourselves why these people are committing crimes and support them out of that cycle. It might also help if we start humanising these people in our minds and save a little bit of empathy, then we might be able to tackle these things at a community level.

Honestly, seeing more police on the beat just causes a bit of uneasiness for me, even though I know I’m not doing anything “wrong”. Are they looking at me? Am I about to walk into something dangerous? Who or what are they looking for? Will I see something I don’t want to see?

Girl, so true that getting to the source feels better, but we need to be realistic here. A lot of people are feeling unsafe, and you can’t immediately see the results from some kind of systemic overhaul. The police play a role for a reason. Isn’t a bandaid better than nothing at all?

But is it worth it if it comes at the expense of making already vulnerable people feel more vulnerable? Wait, I’m not the only one who feels scared by a police presence, right?

I mean, you’d be agreeing with Paul, and look where that has got her. I get it: you’re both young wāhine Māori who think of themselves as progressive, but aren’t you worried you’re victimising yourself a bit?

I think it speaks more to a collective Māori experience than us seeing ourselves as victims. Sure, David Seymour can accuse Paul of bringing “identity politics” into it all he likes, but it’s a fact that we have been disproportionately targeted by police.

Surely it’s not unreasonable for Paul to be sharing the concerns of constituents and for her to feel concerned about where police resourcing is going in her electorate, right? Police throwing away the few belongings of homeless people who are, well, homeless, doesn’t send a positive message about how those at the lowest levels of society are treated.

When I lived in Auckland …

Oh, here we go.

Yeah, forgive me. But when I lived in Auckland, more police on the beat genuinely did look to me like more homeless people were being approached for, well, being homeless. And then you sort of think to yourself, how are they supposed to pay the fine that’s been slapped on them, or show up to court? Do they end up like Dean Wickliffe?

Hey, at the end of the day, if you’re abusing substances or people, you’re committing a crime and you have to face the consequences. What if the day comes where you need to call the police?

That day has come and gone so many times that it’s not even funny! Burglaries, mental health episodes, violence … I can’t remember any of these cases being made better by a police presence also being there. Sometimes they’ve made things feel worse, but most times, it feels like they genuinely offered nothing at all.

What if the day comes when you reeeaalllyyy need their help, though?

Then I’ll put on the performance many Māori have learned to put on when talking to police: be respectful to the point of making yourself look small, be so self-conscious of your Māoriness that you try not to show it at all, agree with everything they say, do not do anything that makes yourself look even slightly suspicious.

So you admit it: you’re not really scared of all cops, are you?

I guess it’s kinda like when people tell me they can’t stand journalists and the world would be a better place without us in it. I’m like, ouch, not all journalists, we’re trying to provide a service to the public here. And then I remember the many times we’ve let the public down, too.

‘Become a member to help us deliver news and features that matter most to Aotearoa.’
Lyric Waiwiri-Smith
— Politics reporter
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Two men in suits are speaking at podiums against a green background. One man is standing, gesturing with his right hand, the other is seated, reading. A conference badge with "Echo Chamber" hangs in the center of the image.
Labour leader Chris Hipkins bombarded the speaker with complaints (Image: Joel MacManus)

OPINIONPoliticsMarch 27, 2025

Echo Chamber: ‘Completely hopeless and utterly stupid’

Two men in suits are speaking at podiums against a green background. One man is standing, gesturing with his right hand, the other is seated, reading. A conference badge with "Echo Chamber" hangs in the center of the image.
Labour leader Chris Hipkins bombarded the speaker with complaints (Image: Joel MacManus)

Parliament is preoccupied with pointless points of order, and speaker Gerry Brownlee is absolutely done with it.

Here’s what happened in question time yesterday: Chris Hipkins asked Chris Luxon a bunch of questions about something bad his government had done. Luxon got flustered because he struggles to give an answer deeper than a bumper sticker slogan, so he reverted to a stump speech about Labour bad. Hipkins pulled a phoney indignant outrage routine and whined to speaker Gerry Brownlee that the prime minister was being mean and not answering his questions. Brownlee sighed and harumphed and generally gave the impression that he hated everyone, but ultimately didn’t do anything.

I wrote that opening paragraph before question time started because it happens every. single. time.

On Wednesday, the Labour leader focused on the prime minister’s recent complaints that the media wasn’t lauding him with praise for his government’s action to reduce the number of people in emergency housing. Hipkins pulled some statistics showing that the number of people living on the street had increased, which he posited was a direct response to the government kicking people out of emergency housing. To the first couple of questions, the prime minister offered a half-hearted response about how he was proud of the work but they had more to do. Soon though, LuxonGPT kicked into gear with a generic rant about how the previous government did “a poor, poor job” on housing.

Hipkins made not one, not two, but 10 points of order  – including, at one point, asking a point of order while the speaker was still addressing a point of order he’d made 10 seconds earlier. “No, I haven’t finished, so you can’t take a point of order. Give a man a chance to breathe,” Brownlee wheezed. Hipkins was undeterred, continuing to spend more time whinging to the speaker than asking follow-up questions to the prime minister, until Brownlee again admonished him,  “No, sit down, don’t take it any further.”

Amid this argument, Winston Peters made an offer to Brownlee: “I could help you out here.” Brownlee replied through gritted teeth, “I would really hope that it is helpful.” Of course, it was not helpful. “If the contest here is because somebody gets upset because of their lack of mental acuity, that is surely not a point of order,” the deputy prime minister said. Brownlee told him to leave it. Hipkins made yet another point of order, complaining that Peters’ point of order was a personal attack. Brownlee clearly could not care less and just wanted to move on.

Alas, police minister Mark Mitchell, ever the savant of social cues, decided this was the perfect moment to annoy Brownlee even further by narking on an opposition backbencher. “I heard Phil Twyford direct a very unparliamentary remark towards the prime minister in the last question,” he said, in a tone that gave me flashbacks to Year 3. The entire room looked around, confused because apparently no one else had heard it (the offending remark was “That’s not true”). Twyford stared off into the distance, pretending he didn’t know what was going on.

“I didn’t hear it, so I can’t act on it,” Brownlee said.

“I can certainly share that remark with you if you like,” Mitchell offered.

“Why would you want to repeat an unparliamentary remark in parliament?”

“He’s not taking responsibility for his actions.”

“I’m absolutely sick of this. It’s schoolyard stupidity, and it’s got to stop.”

‘Hutt Valley, Kāpiti, down to the south coast. Our Wellington coverage is powered by members.’
Joel MacManus
— Wellington editor

Did that stop the pointless points of order? Of course not. Hipkins jumped in again to complain that Mitchell had used a point of order as a personal attack. It was a bit of a reach – there are no rules against being a snitch. Brownlee made no secret of his disdain. “It’s legitimate for members to take points of order. Some of them are completely hopeless and utterly stupid, but members do it anyway,” he said.

The points of order kept coming. Louise Upston, Winston Peters, Debbie Ngarewa-Packer, David Seymour. They all tried, but none of them managed to make a legitimate point. The noise in the chamber grew louder and louder. Steam started billowing out of Brownlee’s ears. “We’re about to go into an absolutely silent question time if that sort of racket keeps up. It’s completely unacceptable.” The class pizza party is cancelled, and everyone has to stay late into recess.

Things reached their lowest point towards the end of the hour, during an exchange between Ginny Andersen and Mark Mitchell about increased levels of meth found in wastewater. Mitchell seemingly misspoke during an answer and said levels had reduced rather than increased, which Andersen foolishly raised to the speaker’s attention. “I think the minister just said that wastewater testing methamphetamine has reduced.” An exasperated and bitter Brownlee replied: “Don’t waste the House’s time with those sorts of frivolous points of order.” It’s advice all MPs should take to heart, and probably none of them will.

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