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A red scooter with a plastic cider bottle and slices of cheese on its deck. The background has red graph lines with numerical data. Text on the right reads, "The Cost of Being.
Image: The Spinoff

SocietyToday at 9.00am

The cost of being: An unemployed 31-year-old who wishes he could afford good food

A red scooter with a plastic cider bottle and slices of cheese on its deck. The background has red graph lines with numerical data. Text on the right reads, "The Cost of Being.
Image: The Spinoff

As part of our series exploring how New Zealanders live and our relationship with money, a ‘broke’ volunteer and former policy adviser explains how he gets by.

Want to be part of The Cost of Being? Fill out the questionnaire here.

Gender: Man.

Age: 31.

Ethnicity: Mixed ethnicity.

Role: Unemployed (ex-policy adviser); volunteer (cultural safety/training lead).

Salary/income/assets: $374.92/wk.

My living location is: Urban.

Rent/mortgage per week: $200.

Student loan or other debt payments per week: $20/wk (credit card debt for medical bills).

Typical weekly food costs

Groceries: $80/wk.

Eating out: $0.

Takeaways: $0.

Workday lunches: $0.

Cafe coffees/snacks: $0.

Savings: $10/wk (average)

I worry about money: Always.

Three words to describe my financial situation: Broke, depressing, unliveable.

My biggest edible indulgence would be: Cheese.

In a typical week my alcohol expenditure would be: $2.50 (a bottle of cider once a month – if it’s on special).

In a typical week my transport expenditure would be: $30-$35. $30 Flamingo weekly pass, $5 for the bus if the weather is bad (and I have to go to out, otherwise I just stay home).

I estimate in the past year the ballpark amount I spent on my personal clothing (including sleepwear and underwear) was: $100.

My most expensive clothing in the past year was: Shoes ($80).

My last pair of shoes cost: $80, casual.

My grooming/beauty expenditure in a year is about: $250-$300 ($25/mth, buzzcut).

My exercise expenditure in a year is about: $0.

My last Friday night cost: $0.

Most regrettable purchase in the last 12 months was: Takeaways. If it’s cheap, it’s not satisfying. It wasn’t satisfying.

Most indulgent purchase (that I don’t regret) in the last 12 months was: $90 Christmas gift to myself: music production software, intro pack (creative outlet).

One area where I’m a bit of a tightwad is: Food.

Five words to describe my financial personality would be: Frugal, self-conscious, anxious, tight, caring.

I grew up in a house where money was: Tight. Solo mum, two kids.

The last time my Eftpos card was declined was: Two weeks ago. Didn’t have the money to pay for a Flamingo scooter weekly pass (cheapest travel option).

In five years, in financial terms, I see myself: In a better place than I am now (I hope).

Describe your financial low: Two months ago. Friend had to give me money to see a doctor because I couldn’t afford the transport or the $20 appointment (with Community Services Card) to check out a possible broken bone after a tumble. I’d spent my last $20 buying Betadine and dressings from the pharmacy for the grazes. The bone was broken; I still haven’t been able to repay the friend.

I would love to have more money for: Good food. Ploughmans/Freya’s bread vs $1.20 wholemeal. Chicken breast vs canned chicken.

I give money away to: I don’t have enough money to give away…

‘Media is under threat. Help save The Spinoff with an ongoing commitment to support our work.’
Duncan Greive
— Founder
A bronze sculpture of a man appears to be diving into the water, positioned on a waterfront with railings. Urban buildings and construction cranes are visible across the water under a cloud-filled sky with a pinkish hue.
The Wellington waterfront is surrounded by temporary safety fencing (Image: Joel MacManus)

SocietyToday at 5.00am

Windbag: The conundrum of the Wellington waterfront fences

A bronze sculpture of a man appears to be diving into the water, positioned on a waterfront with railings. Urban buildings and construction cranes are visible across the water under a cloud-filled sky with a pinkish hue.
The Wellington waterfront is surrounded by temporary safety fencing (Image: Joel MacManus)

Seven people have died on the Wellington waterfront since 2006. What should be done about it?

In 2021, 30-year-old Sandy Calkin died in Wellington Harbour after a night drinking with friends in the city centre. A coroner’s report into Calkin’s death, released last week, confirmed the cause of death was accidental drowning and found that there were not adequate safety measures in place along the waterfront. Since 2006, seven people have lost their lives in similar ways along the waterfront.

The coroner’s report has amplified a public debate about safety protections along the Wellington waterfront. Since March 2024, temporary fences have lined the water’s edge. It’s kicked off a constant low grumble of people upset that their scenic walk now looks like a construction site. Some of the best views in the city – like the angle of the Solace in the Wind sculpture looking back towards the skyline – are tarnished. Some popular wharf jumping spots are fenced over, while others – like the harbour diving board – are still accessible through a gap in the fence.

Wellington City Council has approved $11.1 million for waterfront edge protection, but there will be public consultation on what that looks like. There are four options on the table: 

  1. Remove temporary fencing and complete lighting works
  2. Retain temporary fencing and complete lighting works
  3. Install fencing in key locations and complete lighting works
  4. Install full edge protection fencing and complete lighting works
  5. ‘Media is under threat. Help save The Spinoff with an ongoing commitment to support our work.’
    Duncan Greive
    — Founder

It’s important to discuss the safety options around the waterfront, but it’s a difficult conversation. Families and friends are still grieving, and for some, the pain will never go away. All seven deaths were tragedies and should be treated with respect. 

The waterfront is a public space, collectively owned and enjoyed by all Wellingtonians and tens of thousands of visitors annually. Any decision about what to do with the space is subject to democratic debate – including a debate about how much weight we give to health and safety risks. 

Person riding a yellow bike on a waterfront promenade with city buildings and hills in the background. The sun is shining brightly, casting a long shadow. An industrial crane stands to the left. The scene is set against a partly cloudy sky.
A section of the Wellington waterfront that has since been blocked off by fences (Photo: Birgit Krippner/Bloomberg via Getty Images)

Act MP Brooke van Velden caught some flak in 2024 when she said, “When it came to Covid, we completely blew out what the value of a life was.” It wasn’t a nice way of phrasing it, but it’s a perfectly valid opinion – through Covid, the government had to weigh the risks of death against the economic costs of lockdowns, and everyone has their own opinion on how they should be balanced. There are health and safety risks on the waterfront, and addressing them has costs.

Let’s put the risks in context. New Zealand averages about 90 drowning deaths per year, meaning there have been around 1,700 drowning deaths since 2006. Seven of those occurred on the Wellington waterfront. Six of those happened at night, and all involved people with alcohol in their systems. 

We may never know what happened in those people’s final moments. Did they stumble and fall off the edge as they walked along? Did they lose their balance while taking a risky wee? Did they go for a nighttime swim and run into trouble when they couldn’t find the ladder to climb back up? There is so little information and such a small sample that it’s difficult to say what would be the most effective way to prevent further incidents. 

In every city with canals, harbourfront promenades or seawalls, there are occasional reports of deaths due to people falling in the water or drowning after a late-night swim. An estimated 18 people a year die in Amsterdam’s canals – mostly drunk men who fall in while urinating.

Now, let’s put the costs in context: $5,000 per month for temporary fencing and $11 million for permanent installation is a decent chunk of change, but it isn’t going to bankrupt the council. We don’t need to overreact every time local government spends money. 

More significant than the financial cost is the impact on amenity and visual appeal. This is harder to quantify but shouldn’t be dismissed. When it comes to the waterfront, aesthetics matter. The natural beauty of the harbour and the people-friendly design draw people in to enjoy the space and spend money at the businesses that line the waterfront.  Have a few ugly fences stopped people from visiting the waterfront? Of course not. But it makes the experience slightly less pleasant and diminishes the area’s inherent value. 

It’s likely to be a contentious and messy consultation. The unpopular temporary fencing has positioned the debate as a zero-sum game between aesthetics and safety – but it doesn’t need to be this way. There are outcomes here that could benefit both. 

Wellington could copy what Amsterdam is doing by installing ladders and ropes along the waterfront so that anyone who falls in is never far from something to grab onto and pull themselves up. This would also mean better amenities for people jumping off the wharf for a swim during the day. 

Better lighting on the stretch around Te Papa could help to prevent accidental falls while also making the space feel more welcoming after dark, helping to draw crowds and late-night trade. 

There will likely be some physical edge protection in key sections. But that doesn’t mean they have to be utilitarian safety blockades. If Wellington is going to fence off the waterfront, let’s at least make sure the fences are pretty.