by Gordon Campbell

Lead image Lyndon Hood

Late last month, the Economist magazine published a debate on state capitalism, in which it proposed that state-led market economies are fast becoming a global rival to the old models of liberal, free market capitalism. The chapter and verse it provided is indeed pretty impressive. More than three-quarters of the world’s oil reserves, the magazine reported, are controlled by state-backed companies, ranging from the world’s biggest natural-gas company, Russia’s Gazprom to Brazil’s Petrobras. Saudi Basic Industries Corporation is the world’s second largest diversified chemicals company, Russia’s Sberbank is Europe’s third-largest bank by market capitalisation. Dubai Ports happens to be the world’s third-largest ports operator, and Emirates is one of the world’s fastest growing airlines.

Reportedly, state companies comprise 80% of the value of the stockmarket in China, 62% in Russia and 38% in Brazil. Together, the Economist summarised, they accounted for “one-third of the emerging world’s foreign direct investment between 2003 and 2010 and an even higher proportion of its most spectacular acquisitions, as well as a growing proportion of the very largest firms: three Chinese state-owned companies rank among the world’s ten biggest companies by revenue, against only two European ones.”

All of which suggests that long ago, the real world made up its own mind about whether government belongs in business. The trend seems very relevant to New Zealand, given our history of dependence on the state for building social and physical infrastructure, fostering innovation and investing in research and development – and our habit of living in denial about this discomfiting reality. Yet as the financial analyst Brian Gaynor points out by way of illustration, the current share market is full of companies like Solid Energy, Air New Zealand, Telecom etc that owed their origins to the state. Paradoxically though, our political rhetoric since the mid 1980s has been dominated by liberal exhortations to cut regulatory red tape, lower taxes, reduce labour protections, privatise assets and thus release the entrepreneurial spirit alleged to exist within our private sector. For all the free market noise, little in the way of sustainable growth has eventuated.

In other words, economic reality in New Zealand tends to differ from the political rhetoric that is routinely in play. If it is to succeed, the mixed model economy depends on a active, state-led partnership between government and business, in which government does a lot more than simply try to get out of the way. Yet there have been few signs of the inclination – let alone the ability – to foster and manage the collective forms of capitalist endeavour that are increasingly the global norm – especially within those emerging countries that like, New Zealand, have been trying to graduate from dependence on agricultural based exports. Last week for instance, the Washington Post described the new reality in these terms:

…Innovation is increasingly coming from groups, not solitary heroes. Capitalism as a communal enterprise — dare we call it collective capitalism? — is the new engine of innovation, in America and beyond, but it doesn’t seem to square with our culture.

Yet, theories about solitude and creativity notwithstanding, the basic innovative grunt work is now more likely to be done not by a lone wolf but by a wolf pack; there is simply too much information and too much complexity for it to be otherwise…. Already we are seeing how this new innovative collaboration works: in the browser Firefox, which is a product of a community of thousands of programmers; in the Netflix algorithm, which is a result of teams of researchers working together;…

This new reality doesn’t draw on the American entrepreneurial myth of singular achievement. It is based instead on something deeper — our roots as social beings who desire collaboration. We may like to continue thinking that…..individualism has shaped and will forever shape the modern world, but here is where cultural self-perceptions and economics can clash. We have got to overcome our hyperactive sense of exceptionalism and embrace the more collective, cooperative and globalized forces shaping the planet

There is no sign of that collaborative approach in Treasury’s recent briefing paper, which repeats (sigh) the old neo-liberal policy menu of (a) shrinking the state (b) lowering taxes on capital and (c) shifting costs onto the captive consumer, or in the case of education consumers, onto the child in the classroom – where the “savings” from bigger class sizes would be used to fund performance-based incentives to those teachers who can cope with the related classroom pressures. This approach has been tried in New Zealand for decades, and has failed to achieve sustainable economic growth, while creating one of the fastest growing rates of income inequality (and with it, the diseases of poverty) in the entire OECD. It has also failed to make any inroads into New Zealand’s chronic dependence on agricultural exports. Collaboration by contrast, means including workers and consumers in the policy mix, and not treating them as obstacles, or as cash cows.

In that sense, the recurring criticism that the Key government has no economic plan seems somewhat beside the point. The plan being followed by government merely reflects the indecision that exists amid the corporate sector that it seeks to serve. More of the same though, is bound to fail. For the past 25 years, almost everything business has asked for has been given to it – lower tax rates for business and high income earners, less restrictive labour practices, greater freedom from environmental regulation…and yet, sustainable economic growth remains a mirage. To outsiders, it would come as no surprise that given a small country of four million situated far from global markets and with relatively few natural advantages, a decision to promote policies that involve government abdicating its leadership role would turn out to have been self-defeating. Worse, many of the tools and processes of economic activity that have proven successful in state-led economies elsewhere – in Germany, Brazil, Scandinavia – have been sold, or abandoned.

We may now be in the terminal phase. One of 2012’s main political stories for instance, will continue to be the partial sale of state assets. Bathetically, this marks an attempt by government to invigorate the New Zealand sharemarket, in an economy which has shown itself incapable of producing a sufficient influx of healthy firms able to attract investors on their own merits, without assistance from the state. Again, the reduction of state ownership is based on the wrong-headed premise that this will enhance efficiency and productivity – when there is no empirical evidence that the state companies in question have anything whatsoever to learn from the private sector.

So far, critics of the state asset selldowns have focussed on the spectre of eventual foreign ownership of the shares, but the more pressing concern is the extent to which private speculators ( whether home- grown or foreign) will seek to recoup their investment by raising energy prices. This would require the collusion of the state. Under a mixed model system of modern state capitalism, the real issue may not be ownership so much as pricing – and whether the state sees its main role as being (a) to protect the citizenry from price gouging, or (b) to assist private capital to maximise its returns, regardless of the social cost. On past performance (b) is likely to be a clear winner.

Should New Zealand actively embrace the state capitalist model, given the failure of the neo-liberal alternative? First, some definitional issues. In the process of going to bat for old school liberal capitalism in the Economist, political scientist Ian Bremmer defined state capitalism as being a system in which the political elites control the vast bulk of economic activity, for their own political and personal gain. To Bremmer, the most typical examples of state capitalism tend to be oligarchies —China obviously, but also Russia and various Arab countries. Not surprisingly as the moderator of the Economist pointed out, Bremmer’s criticisms of state capitalism flow directly from his definition :

Given that the primary purpose of state capitalism is to keep oligarchs in power, the system will inevitably fail at producing wealth, at least in the long run. State capitalists cannot tolerate the two things that make for dynamic economies: the free flow of information that empowers entrepreneurs and consumers and the creative destruction that allows vigorous new firms to replace tired old ones.

According to this view, the current flaws of liberal capitalism are not terminal problems : “Liberal capitalism has survived huge challenges in the past. It will do so again.” Unless of course, it doesn’t – and the problems evident in parts of Europe prove to be beyond the powers of the market or its corporate chieftains to self diagnose, and cure. In which case, there is room for a much broader definition of state capitalism, as advocated by economist Aldo Musacchio of Harvard Business School. Such a system – which will sound familiar to New Zealanders – is one where governments, whether democratic or autocratic, “exercise a widespread influence on the economy, through either direct ownership or various subsidies.” In successful emerging economies such as Brazil, the state has chosen to take a leading role in picking those sectors and companies likely to prosper –with the state oil company Petrobras being a prime example – and will then support them to the hilt in whatever ways it can. As the Economist’s points out:

This hybrid form of capitalism—state support disciplined by the market—gives state capitalism three huge advantages, according to Musacchio. It produces global champions that have quickly risen up the ranks of the world’s top companies. It gives companies the freedom to invest for the long-term rather than obsessing about short-term profits. And it smooths the economic cycle: state-capitalist countries such as China were much faster to cope with the consequences of the financial crisis than liberal-capitalist countries.

So where does that leave New Zealand on the spectrum – given that as business commentator Rod Oram has argued, our agriculture commodity economy is peculiarly vulnerable to the swings of the economic cycle, both domestic and global. Superficially, it could be said that New Zealand has always had a state capitalist system (in both senses outlined above) run largely for the benefit of its political and corporate elites, which merely changed their membership during the 1980s – as those elites that had profited from protectionism were replaced by the elites that profited from financial de-regulation.

At the same time, in adopting the political rhetoric and much of the practice of liberal free market capitalism, New Zealand also went through substantive change in the scope and role of government. Vital infrastructure (in telecommunciations, transport, banking and soon, energy companies) was either sold outright, or had the state’s role significantly reduced. At the same time, New Zealand has atomised its work force in ways avoided by other, more successful state capitalist economies – ie Germany, Australia, Brazil – which tend, as the Economist also pointed out, to use the disciplines of the market to strengthen their national champions, rather than promote policies that merely protect them from global competition. (Old school protectionism isn’t a hallmark of state capitalism, at least not anymore. )

New Zealand has now largely divested itself of the ability to do likewise. If anything, it has simply exposed its private sector to global competition and hoped for the best. For the past 25 years successive New Zealand governments have tried to make a virtue out of selling its existing or potential champions, and encouraged work practices (casualisation, contracting out) geared to short-term profit taking, rather than to long term performance and viability. The focus has been on reducing the cost of labour, rather than seeking ways to utilise organised labour to national advantage. The current attack by Ports of Auckland management on the work conditions on the Auckland waterfront – which is occurring despite productivity at Auckland already being higher than in comparable Australian ports, and where Auckland’s health and safety record is better than exists in Tauranga, the model being advocated. Similar short-sightedness ( and abdication of the duty of care) exists in environmental policy, where government appears intent on defeating its own target of 90 % renewable electricity generation by 2030. A hat tip is owed to No Right Turn for pointing out this contradictory segment of the Ministry of Economic Development’s briefing paper to its new Minister, a classic of the “government getting out of the way” genre:

The Ministry’s view is that commercial enterprises are best placed to identify the lowest cost generation mix, the government’s role is to ensure there are no undue barriers to invest in generation of any type, and environmental effects are priced wherever possible. The relative economics of generation types is dictated by exchange rates (a higher exchange rate favours high capital cost options such as wind), emissions price (a high emission price favours renewables) and input resource availability and price (the availability and price of gas has a major bearing on gas plant economics).

Unfortunately As No Right Turn also points out, the latest New Zealand Energy Outlook shows the market likely to achieve only 81% renewables by 2030, thanks to new builds of gas, oil, and even coal generation.

A competent Ministry would highlight this discrepancy, and present options for resolving it. A government which cared about the target would demand they did so. Instead, MED’s “leave it to the market” approach puts us on the path to failure. But its worse than that – because while they’re ignoring renewables, MED is also talking up new non-renewable generation.

For now though, the state energy company selldowns – and the campaign to casualise the work force by the Ports of Auckland – remain the most telling examples of government bailing out on its managerial role in the economy – even when it is the only significant player able to serve the national interest, and even if it means foregoing significant amounts of revenue. Given their recent healthy annual returns, the four energy companies now being put on the auction block have little to gain from further exposure to the disciplines of the market given that – under full state ownership – they are already exceeding the performance of the private sector. Similarly Air New Zealand, while almost entirely in state hands, has survived the global recession in surprisingly good shape under its current ownership structure.

New Zealand has an identity problem, in other words. We are state capitalists who have been trying – for the last 25 years – to be funky liberal capitalists, a process that has all but eviscerated our ability to be successful in either role. Thankfully, some building blocks of this approach are now being re-thought. Not in Treasury, which seems determined to go down with the neo-liberal ship, even if that means taking the country down with it. But a more pragmatic and activist role for government is being argued by the likes of financial columnist Bernard Hickey:

The surge in our currency this week to a five-month high against the United States dollar and a record high against the euro highlights how we are losing in a race to the bottom. Britain, Europe and the United States are determined to print more money to devalue their currencies to protect their own economies….

This Northern Hemisphere strategy of print and hope is fine and understandable for them. Their export sectors become more competitive and they can preserve or create jobs in exporting and import substitution. But it is in effect a beggar-thy-neighbour strategy in which investors can borrow at near zero per cent interest then buy assets in higher interest rate currencies to make an easy profit. It is fuelling a surge in cash around the globe on a hunt for hard assets such as farmland, mines and oilfields….

New Zealand’s manufacturing exporters should now be very worried. The print-and-hope strategies look set to leave anyone who doesn’t follow suit sprawling in the dust. We saw the inevitable results of that with yet another collapse of a manufacturing exporter this week. Auckland’s Criterion Furniture called in the receivers after a decline in exports into these markets. There are now 180 workers wondering if they will keep their jobs.

They are the ones left standing. How long before New Zealand has to join the game? And can we afford to stand by and just let it happen to us? Our Government seems comfortable as a spectator. At some point it may have to become a player.

Right. That’s if the Key government (a) had the inclination, and (b) the ability. Theoretically, the recent resignation of Reserve Bank governor Alan Bollard – due to take effect later this year – might also have been an opportunity for a re-think. Unfortunately, as Brian Gaynor has indicated, the need for the RB to have a wider regulatory role may be there but the personnel don’t appear to be:

A recent research paper by the Brookings Institution – Rethinking Central Banking – recommends changes to central bank mandates. The paper argues that the recent property and financial bubbles, followed by the Global Financial Crisis, have shown that central banks need wider objectives. The institution believes that central banks should be able to implement policies to counteract rapid credit growth, asset price bubbles and other financial excess even if it means that inflation targets are missed.

If the Reserve Bank had a financial stability objective then it could have taken action to control the finance company sector excesses but it had no mandate to do so. This issue is particularly important because the main candidates to replace Bollard are “economic dries”. These are individuals who generally believe that the Government and its agencies should play a minimal role in the economy.

The “dries” believe that markets automatically self-correct before excesses develop, although recent worldwide developments contradict this widely held belief. A good example of a “dry” is former US Federal Reserve chairman Alan Greenspan who continues to believe in the power of the market and advocates minimal government and central bank intervention.

….The next Reserve Bank governor needs to have a wider mandate, as recommended by the Brookings Institution, because it is unlikely that any of Bollard’s obvious replacements will be willing to embrace a wider role unless specifically required to do so.

To be successful, state capitalism needs intelligent activists in government. There are countries, Gaynor told me for this article, that believe in the positive role that governments can play, and those that don’t. “And we of course, are the latter. Its very hard to go from one to the other, because the thinking has become so entrenched…Sorry if this is a bit off the point, but I see New Zealand as an agricultural-based economy that has been unable to make the transfer to a more diversified economy. That’s why we have these big debates over the sales of farms because farming dominates the economy here, probably more so than in any other Western country…”

Roger Douglas, Gaynor continues, tried to end the government’s domination of the non-agricultural sectors of the economy “ But he didn’t come up with any replacement. He just said the market will deliver a replacement. And the market hasn’t delivered a replacement.“ But since the government is the only significant domestic source of risk capital, won’t any escape from New Zealand’s current situation need to be state-led? “Yes, Gaynor replies, “ but there would be huge opposition to it.”

Most people in New Zealand, he continues, are “incredibly reticent” about anything these days that smacks of risk. “Therefore, if the government started doing something different, it would more than likely be subjected to severe criticism from the electorate…For any government to sponsor innovation or to be a seed capitalist or whatever, is going to be very, very difficult in New Zealand. Because the mood at the moment – and this can change of course over time – is unbelievably negative towards that kind of thing.” Much of the resistance to the state asset selldown, he points out, is motivated by a conservative impulse to retain what we have. “At the same time, they don’t want to fund anything that is new and developing. It’s a funny mixture that we have here…”

Personally, Gaynor did think 10, 15, or 20 years ago that politicians could play a major role in the necessary transition but now…easy answers strike him as being in short supply. For now, the Key government’s plans appear to begin and end with the book-keeping task of trying to generate a surplus by 2014/15, which it is achieving (in large part) by cutting back on spending, services and jobs in the state sector. This goal seems to be an end in itself. Getting there will involve significant reductions in the state’s scope, revenue and ability to deliver services.

Not that there is any clarity about the road intended. When announcing his Cabinet late last year for instance, Key signalled that job creation would be at the very top of his government’s second term economic agenda, and Economic Development Minister Steven Joyce was being vested with the powers to make it happen. Except….a month later in his Economic Priorities speech to the Waitakere Business Club, jobs and the potential role of business in helping to deliver them doesn’t rate a mention.

At the best of times, Key routinely fails to distinguish between what level of job creation is required merely to keep pace with the annual influx of new entrants into the work force – and that’s before any inroads can be made into the backlog of unemployment generated by the recession. Of course, this demographically-driven part of the employment picture is also affected by the rate of migration, and by the extent to which older workers remain in the work force, whether that’s by choice or through economic necessity.

Unfortunately, demographic trends may reward doing nothing. What we know from the five year Labour Force projections (that juggle varying levels of economic growth, migration, mortality and labour force participation) is that the influx of younger workers entrants will have peaked by in 2016 and subsided by 2021, before increasing again towards rhe end of that decade. Which means that government neglect of youth employment will get a demographic tail wind from around 2016 – and from even as early as 2011 onwards, given a scenario of medium rates of fertility and mortality, relatively low net migration, and depressed labour force participation. So if we do nothing – and economic activity continues to flatline – a dormant government will still be able to claim some success on youth employment, thanks to these kindlier demographic conditions.

That is depressing enough. But migration will also be a key player in the employment mix. Currently, some 495,000 New Zealanders are estimated to be living in Australia – ie, one tenth of the entire population of this country – and they comprise a large proportion of the total of 700,000 to one million Kiwis who live offshore.

For years, Australia has functioned as a social safety valve for our skilled workers and for those relatively unskilled New Zealanders ( many of whom are Maori) unable to find a job here at home. If as projected, the Australian economy slows down noticeably during 2012 – and China does likewise – the Gillard government is unlikely to be generous when it comes to offering welfare assistance to Kiwis left out of work. A lot therefore, will then be riding on the Christchurch recovery in 2013 to reduce the ranks of the unemployed here, as well as those likely to be winging their way home from across the Tasman, during the latter half of this year.

To conclude : the prevailing sense is of a government sitting on the sidelines like a spectator at Wimbledon – and watching the economic volleys and rallies pinging back and forth across the net, while living in hope that the game will (somehow) go into the fifth set before they have to pack up and leave.

One basic problem with free market prescriptions is that there is no counter factual. Failure is treated as success, or “creative destruction” whereby the “inefficient” go to the wall, only for others to rise phoenix like from the ashes. The upside of this process – which is destructive not only to firms but to communities, families and individual lives – is supposed to be innovation, as the competition for survival leaves only the fittest still standing. (In reality, creative destruction is just as often the result of the workings privilege and near-monopoly, rather than anything based on merit.) IN any case, there is little evidence that state-led capitalism is any worse than free market capitalism in fostering innovation. (Quite the contrary. Profit-driven science is more likely to be conservative, and driven by short term results.) As Harvard economist Aldo Musacchio pointed out during the Economist debate, modern state capitalist governments lead innovation – they do not stifle it :

Innovation requires risk capital, and governments usually tolerate more risk than individual investors do. Innovation in deep-sea drilling by Brazil’s national oil company, Petrobras, is one example of how a risk-tolerant, long-term investor can succeed. Petrobras invested for decades in research on deep-sea drilling, even though it was not clear there was any oil off the coast of Brazil. A private company would have given up looking and investing money in research when there was no sign of oil. By adopting foreign technology and developing its own technology in its own research centre, Petrobras found one of the largest offshore basins in 1974 (off the coast of Rio) and more recently off the coast of São Paulo. Scientists at Petrobras have won many times the Offshore Technology Conference award for innovation.

If innovation is the key driver of economic growth, then New Zealand ( for all its neo-liberal rhetoric) remains a prime example of a capitalism reliant on the state, and not on the private sector. The trouble is that there is not enough r&d spending from either source. Spending on r&d by the New Zealand government dwarfs the private sector r&d spend, and always has done – even if the rates of investment in both cases lag well behind the OECD averages.

All too typical. Routinely, our private sector has looked to government to do the heavy lifting on exchange rates, interest rates, corporate tax rates and the country’s labour laws. Rather than seeing labour as a partner in productivity – as in more successful economies – business has been empowered to treat labour as a disposable cost. This situation has given ordinary New Zealanders no faith in the country’s ability to manage public/private partnerships in future in ways that will prevent rorts – mainly because we have been given every reason to think that the strength of public investment will not be matched by regulatory discipline in how the contracts are written and enforced.

Regulation, finally, is the big part of the story. The regulatory failures that led to the recent global recession have discredited the free market model, and validated state capitalist alternatives. The lesson could hardly be more clear. If Gaynor is right and we cannot stomach a state-led capitalist recovery along Scandinavian lines, perhaps we could at least go part of the way, and endorse a situation whereby the courts, the Commerce Commission and the other regulatory agencies were given the power to police the market adequately. In essence, a trustworthy kind of “umpire state” may be the best we can hope for. One where the rules of the game exist not solely to facilitate profit-taking by business. Alas, a country where Bryce Lawrence and Billy Bowden are our most famous referees probably doesn’t inspire much confidence in our capacity to create a satisfactory umpire state, either.

ENDS

by Lyndon Hood

During the holidays I finally got to clear my cellar of some junk left by a number of previous tenants.

Under a pile of unused plastic spoons I happened to find an old tin of film. There was no clue as to its contents, and it was just made more mysterious by a note scrawled on the label…

This is not what we discussed, Jeff. Try again.

… a mystery which examining the film has not really resolved.

I don’t know if you’ve ever dealt with faded film stock?

I tried enhancing the video but the people still came out all distorted and multicoloured. In the end I took a copy of the audio – for which see below – and put the tape in the recycling.

You’ll probably say that was a mistake. And I admit, it didn’t have any number stamped on it at all – but I was all out of the council bags and they frankly seem to take anything.

Anyway, perhaps you’ll have some idea what it’s all about.

Leaving aside some irrelevant chatter, I’ve transcribed the lyrics as follows:

Oh who are the people in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood?
Say who are the people in your neighbourhood –
the people that you meet each day?

I’m keeping the economy on track
by laying down a lot of tarmac
but once I’ve finished all that toil
don’t know what we’re going to do for oil.

Yes, a road worker’s a person in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood
in your neighbourhood.
Oh, a road worker’s a person in your neighbourhood –
a person that you meet each day.

I check you’re safe riding your bike
and I can put surveillance cameras anywhere they like;
and as a small reward for them,
I investigate journalists for the PM.

A policeman is a person in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood.
A policeman is a person in your neighbourhood –
a person that you meet each day.

I’m living proof you win some and you lose some,
because I don’t have sufficient income;
but you’ll give me enough (arguably),
in exchange for my dignity.

A beneficiary is a person in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood,
in your neighbourhood.
A beneficiary is a person in your neighbourhood –
they’re a person that you meet each day.

For being really mean to you and me,
we put them in the penitentiary
and hope they will learn better when
we do mean things to them.

A prisoner is a person in your neigbourhood,
in your neigbourhood,
in your neigbourhood,
or they’ll eventually be a person in your neighbourhood
and a road worker’s a person in your neighbourhood
and a policeman is a person in your neighbourhood
and an beneficiary’s a person in your neighbourhood
they’re the people that you meet,
when you’re walking down the street –
they’re the people that you meet each day!

********

“Well,” said the Baron, his voice causing the babbling voices in the hall to fall into expectant silence, “You ask me how I fared on my travels.”

He took a thoughtful sip from his wine, placed the goblet back on the table with a click, and began:

“I took ship from Bremerhaven, as you know, with a fair wind and a bold heart, but lady luck was soon to change her face. On the third day there arose a storm of unimaginable size – the waves were as high as houses, then as high as mountains; strange howlings came from the ocean; passing whales begged to be allowed on board as on that night the sea was no place for a creature of God; and I personally was struck by lightning three times.

“Naturally the mariners ran quivering under the decks to their prayers, and it was left to me to manage the ship, which – with some small difficulty – I did. Bow to the wind, I finally faced a wall of water so tall it reached – as I measured it with apparatus – all the way to the sky, and had no choice but to pilot my vessel straight into it.

“After a few moments under the water I passed a group of comely mermaids who, once they had recovered from their surprise, looked quite taken by my person and seemed on the point of asking me to spend more time with them when I, running short of breath for more reasons than one, was forced to move on.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been trapped under several fathoms of water, struggling to escape and deprived of oxygen, as you face your apparently inevitable expiration knowing that no matter what convulsions you go through or how loudly you shout no living soul will know or care. It’s uncomfortably like being Phil Goff.

“Yet somehow – I attribute it to my fickle mistress Fate still holding some love for me (but that is another story) – I reached the surface alive and tasted air again.

“During all this time I had, of course, kept my hand on the tiller, but on resurfacing I discovered the tiller had become detached from the rest of the ship.

“It is of course out of the question that I should have run the ship over a reef, even in such trying circumstances as I have described. However it is the case that my vessel had met a reef; this particular reef notoriously mobile and aggressive – so without question it was the reef which ran itself onto me.

“I will not speak its name for fear of invoking it again. Suffice to say it is named after a piece of navigational equipment. This name, I can reveal, reflects the intention of its creator (a powerful sorcerer) that it serve as a scourge upon all those who (as, in this case of dire necessity, myself) fail to consult the instrumentation they were supplied with when piloting their ship.

“I was able to keep myself afloat by clinging to one of several thousand pieces of flotsam that chanced to be in the area, until I discovered a place where the surface was sufficiently solid for me to stand on it. (I am told this does not normally happen but I later discovered the sea had been decorated in support of the local team in a major sporting tournament.)

“I was, though at some leisure, still lost on the open sea, so I considered how to supply myself with a mode of transport suited to my status.
“Having recovered my breath I was able, by blowing into the end of the tiller, to inflate it into a serviceable boat and convinced a school of dexterous fingerfish (where do you think fish fingers come from?) to crew it.

Initially they were somewhat laggard workers but I happen to always keep upon my person a bottle of my patented welfare reform nostrum. Once applied, this immediately transformed them into happy and diligent workers and did not kill any of them in any way. I passed the rest of the journey with pleasure as the company was now rather better than the average at sea, though snuff was not widely available.”

Here the great raconteur paused, holding up one finger to suppress the murmur of applause that was about to turn into thunder. He picked up his wine again, wetting his lips then smiling behind the goblet as he is wont when about to demonstrate his greatest flights of fancy.

“Also,” he said, “The response to the Rena incident does not reflect of deep sea drilling at all, National Party policies are good for the underclass, there was an urgent ACC crisis, that RadioLive show didn’t encourage people to vote for John Key, we don’t deserve to know why Richard Worth was fired, those tax cuts weren’t really tax cuts but they did make everything better, the police surveillance bill was well thought-out and constitutionally justified and we will be back in surplus by 2014-15.”

With a flourish, the Baron drank off his cup, then dipped his head in a slight bow as our laughter and applause shook the hall’s very flagstones.

Truly, his mighty powers of picturesque invention will be unequalled in this or any future age.

ENDS

By Lyndon Hood

DAY ONE The minister has tasked me with investigating the state of workplace safety in New Zealand. After that she went back to the departmental budget – as I left I heard her telling someone there was a recession on and there was no money for new carpets or filing cabinets or air conditioning and there were people in Christchurch who would be grateful to have carpets at all.

First priority: background. Examined the departmental statistics.

We have, actually, been known to prosecute employers. Not sure how to feel about this, officially. One might consider it to be Doing Our Jobs, but there is also the need to balance this with letting employers, who are the lifeblood of our economy, do whatever they like. This is called Ease Of Doing Business.

I stopped in to see how the inspectorate was going. He said he was fine.

On the way out I sprained my ankle on a hole in the carpet. I filled out a form about it.

The form gave me a papercut.

DAY TWO I asked the minister what measures the Government was taking to improve workplace safety. She said the were allowing employers with better safety records to pay lower ACC premiums, as well as restricting union access so the whiny socialists wouldn’t distract anyone or get jammed in important machinery.

I asked whether the ACC matter might encourage under-reporting of accident and risks. As might the 90 day trial period.

She told me if I were any sharper I might cut myself. I told her I had cut myself, yesterday, on a piece of paper. We agreed that was not best risk management practice, but I assured her I had filled out a form about it.

She told me not to do so in future.

Had lunch on the Wellington waterfront. Wharf very pretty in the sunshine. Safety rails often minimal or even absent. There was not even a sign saying Warning Do Not Fall Into The Harbour.

“Don’t people fall into the harbour?” I asked the gentleman sitting beside me.

“Mostly not,” he replied.

I said that was interesting because of my job.

“Are you from OSH or something?”

I explained that the functions formerly served by Occupational Safety and Health had been subsumed by the Department of Labour.

DAY THREE My report must be accessible. I tried to explain the principles of risk management to a man at the pub.

Consider, I told him, the statistical chance of a bad outcome, multiplied by the cost of it happening.

He wanted to see how it worked in practice, so I got out my departmental calculator. The cheap plastic cover cracked and I received a small shock, the jolt from which cause me to knock over and break my wine glass, cutting myself quite badly.

I explained the irony of the situation to the paramedic and added that, since I was not at work, I could safely fill out a form.

He asked about my job and I told him, no, it’s the Department of Labour now and, since he looked like he had ideas, asked him if he had any ideas.

He told me we should reform ACC so that after an industrial disaster the jobless victims can mount a court case to extract compensation from the bankrupt company. Or something like that – the painkillers were kicking in by then.

He also added that I “should all be fired”.

I felt in the circumstances it would be reckless to disagree.

And that does sound like the kind of approach the minister might like. It would certainly make her job easier.

DAY FOUR Spent the day reading the proceedings of the Pike River inquiry. Executive summary: they got confused between the kind of mine that produces coal and the kind of mine that explodes when you poke it.

Googled “coolstore”. Am now nervous of the fridge.

Note: in future, keep a close eye on people who work with things that might explode or catch fire. Except, of course, if they are connected to the film industry.

Had been sitting awkwardly due to hand. Sore back.

What happens to all these forms? Under this National government we now only have have Front Line Officers and no Back Room Bureaucrats, but I assumed someone was dealing with them. Probably the same people who deal with the employer inspection reports.

Is it supposed to be me?

DAY FIVE To be credible, my report must investigate heart of economy. I told the minister I was going to go on a fact-finding trip to Auckland.

“Well, be careful,” she said, “They can be dangerous.”

“What, Aucklanders?”

“No – facts.”

On the plane up the young lady beside me explained that public transport has a lower relative injury rate than private. Decided to catch a train.

Are they usually that full?

Do they usual come to a complete halt like that?

We were rescued not a moment too soon; we had just discovered later the people in the carriage in front had declared the collapse of civilisation and were making serious preparations to capture and eat us.

I too, arguably, had some thoughts of cannibalism – at least, I was seeing the appeal of the Rugby World Cup or Transport minister’s head on a platter. But it is as well things went no further. It’s not that I was personally afraid – I believe I am too stringy to be a high priority – but it would have been professionally embarrassing.

At the station I tracked down the manager and suggested an emergency buffet car might mitigate such risks in future.

“What, are you from OSH or something?” he said.

I showed him my stationery and made him point to the bit on the letterhead that says “Department of Labour”. Then I shut my suitcase on his fingers. He won’t make that mistake again in a hurry.

DAY SIX Returning to the office I noticed a room was sealed off with red tape.

There were signs and so forth but naturally, the first thing I did was cut through the red tape.

I discovered later some significant piles of unprocessed accident forms had begun to moulder. In the still air, this raised methane levels to unacceptable levels and the area had been sealed off.

At least, I suppose that’s why everything exploded.

It was generally reckoned to be a victory for ease of doing business.

*********

by Lyndon Hood

Sometimes I think, if I should chance to be
crushed by a falling lump of masonry
my motives may be viewed suspiciously
due to, upon me, the discovery
of passports (between zero and twenty);
not one but two notebooks – and fully three
assorted pencils! – worse, they see
notes made in light verse (not quite poetry)
on current political policy.
Perhaps I’ll be on the TV.

Though I should quickly say, for clarity,
I’m definitely no An Sung Su Ki;
and if I faced a vexed oligarchy
I’d be the kind that’s more inclined to flee –
the one that puts the ‘dung’ in dungaree.
So I’ve not much to fear from inquiry –
though I do like a little privacy
from government (and I am uneasy
they could monitor my telephony
with some impunity).

No, truth to tell, between us three
(you, me and them) my main worry –
if all goes (stranger things have passed) rightly
[I leave aside for now the pedigree
of anyone who came to rescue me] –
I worry some disgruntled employee
when I am cleared, will still spill my story
to Herald, Dominion or ODT –
the business would, if I can speak frankly,
ruin my obituary

with front page headlines (more reports page three)
asking some question that is quite scary
(the answer to which, by the way, would be
‘No’), and it’s a tragic thing when we
go from the journalist to journalee.
[Speaking of media, it's a pity
The spooks (Hi!), if they're working properly
(or not) go undetected; it's only
if they get caught in their skuduggery
they're in the news – so their publicity
needs work. I suggest a reality
show, weekly on TV.]

If I rose (or fell) to the rank “MP”
(My slogan: This looks like a job for me!
So everyone (I’d say) just follow me!)
Once I’d fixed all our problems, [for e.g.
did you see where the UK's ITV
had dropped an episode of The Daily
Show because it breached their parliamentary
coverage rules (due to frivolity);
rules like the ones we made in this country
(oh, at the time I took that personally)
and which under my careful ministry
would be less censor-ey.]

… If then I came to lead our fair country
(an event my opponents would decree
a sign of what is wrong with MMP,
but really due to popularity) –
and if, I say, I ever grow mighty
enough to be obeyed punctilliously
(as Captain Hook by his offsider, Smee)
enough to have the leader of the free
world to mess up my surname on TV
then shake hands – touching me!

… being by both tradition and decree
the Minister of the Security
Intelligence Service, my industry
would bring about accountability
and you all could be quite reassured re:
new cash or legal capability
(no public service cuts in this locality…)
not being to build their bureaucracy
to an antipodean KGB
for protecting rugby.

Or, to tell the truth, I’d acually
be so excited to play super se-
cret spy man, I’d apply that secrecy
to anything even tangentially
related, to duck media scrutiny
(despite my habit of spouting glibly
new plans in other fields of policy).
With every sign of dazed complicity
I’d give the spys all that they asked from me
and have them stay for tea.

And as we had a wee corroberee
we’d chuckle at the legitimacy
under the law, of boat-bourne refugees;
and they’d explain why we let in Tony
Blair – not like he came anonymously –
yet did not take him into custody
nor check for a war-crime suppository
(I’d quite forget that fellow from Fiji).
The nation was in good hands, we’d agree
with them in charge of me.

I’d also, as PM, reign shallowly
and discount any facts that disagree –
indulge in even greater sophistry
than does the Viscount Monckton of Brenchley
(a man whose remarks have, just quietly
about the same reliability
as the practise of astrology
in regards tectonic activity)
and you’d all have to take it seriously –
all as done normally.

I’d eat no cheese but brie, drink eau-de-vie
and not write any more lines rhymed with ‘e’.

ENDS

by Lyndon Hood

Without apologies to Craig Smith, Katz Cowley and all the people who got here first.

Earlier in the year, when asked what he really thought about something, Prime Minister John Key said, “I’m leaving it until my book. I know the answer, but just wait until my book.”

After an unprecedented two-and-a-half month investigation, Werewolf can now reveal he was talking about this…

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
And he’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares.

He was a shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares –

and he had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook.

He was an
on-key
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook –

and he danced like a white boy.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy –

and he was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned.

He was a dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned –

and everyone thought he was rather nice.

He was a lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
he danced like a white boy,
everyone thought he was rather nice –

and argued he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST.

He was a wanky,
lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
everyone thought he was rather nice,
he said he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST –

and he cut taxes for the rich, cancelled tax cuts for the middle, then cut taxes for the rich again.

He was a wealthy,
wanky,
lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
everyone thought he was rather nice,
he said he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST,
cut taxes for the rich –

and he’d passed at least his share of authoritarian laws, made a bunch of patsy appointments, only seemed to like democracy as long as it doesn’t get in the way and had given Gerry Brownlee powers above God in Canterbury.

He was a who’s-your-daddy,
wealthy, wanky,
lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
everyone thought he was rather nice,
he said he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST,
cut taxes for the rich,
placed Gerry Brownlee above God in Canterbury –

and he kept ‘reluctantly’ giving handouts to selected corporations.

He was a tory,
who’s-your-daddy,
wealthy, wanky,
lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
everyone thought he was rather nice,
he said he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST,
cut taxes for the rich,
placed Gerry Brownlee above God in Canterbury,
kept ‘reluctantly’ giving corporate handouts –

and he said he’d was fixing the economy.

He was a bodgey,
tory,
who’s-your-daddy
wealthy, wanky,
lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John Key.

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
everyone thought he was rather nice,
he said he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST,
cut taxes for the rich,
placed Gerry Brownlee above God in Canterbury,
kept ‘reluctantly’ giving corporate handouts,
said he was fixing the economy –

and his main opposition was Phil Goff’s Labour Party.

He was a lucky,
bodgey, tory,
who’s-your-daddy,
wealthy, wanky,
lovely-jubbly,
dodgy plonky,
honky, on-key,
shonky John key!

I was walking down the road, and I saw a Prime Minister!
(hee-haw)
He’d ‘forgotten’ about a pile of Tranzrail shares,
had the whole National caucus singing out of the same songbook,
he danced like a white boy,
was giving away bottles of wine from a vineyard he didn’t know if he owned,
everyone thought he was rather nice,
he said he didn’t technically say he wouldn’t increase GST,
cut taxes for the rich,
placed Gerry Brownlee above God in Canterbury,
kept ‘reluctantly’ giving corporate handouts,
said he was fixing the economy,
his main opposition was Phil Goff’s Labour Party –

and he was a state house boy made good who was “ambitious” for a New Zealand where he’s kicked the ladder out from behind him.

… which admittedly doesn’t mention civil unions at all. We can however off you the following, entirely unrelated, fragment turned up by our investigation:

I was walking down the road when I saw a politician!
(Aeeh!)

He was saying how we should catch Australia by doing the opposite of what Australia does,

he backed radical economic reforms, then spent all of 2005 pretending he didn’t, then did again, and having resigned as National leader wants to be Act leader, or if not that leader of his own party –

and no matter how hard we kicked him he kept coming back.

by Lyndon Hood

Wellington, 28 July – Energy Minister Gerry Brownlee has announced the discovery “significant” quantities of irony underlying the Parliament area of Wellington. He said the Government plans to exploit these to “the maximum possible extent”.

The multiple layers of irony, which have been laid down over many decades, also contain commercial quantities of shamelessness, arrogance and delusion.

“Our consultation on mining in national parks has given us a mandate to proceed full speed with mining in other areas,” said Brownlee, showing off a sample to the press gallery.

“We already knew there were low-value deposits of foresight, good governance and democracy,” said Brownlee, referring to previous test cores taken in the beehive lawn, “But it turns out that was just a veneer. Get past that and it’s irony all the way down. Which proves what I always say: if you’re in a hole, keep digging.”

The plans have provoked immediate controversy, with large sectors of the population insisting that this is not technically irony.

“I know many people are emotional about this,” said Brownlee, “When we talk about irony they remember Alannis Morrisette. Nobody wants that. But unless they’re prepared to give up their sarcasm and their classical tragedy, they should stop complaining about our plans to extract maximum irony by levelling Wellington.”

“This Government has many more exciting plans going forward for a step-change the New Zealand economy,” he added. “To keep up at the rate we’re going, we’ll need every ounce of irony we can get. As it is we used up a year’s supply just banning cellphones in cars. Y’know, considering all that ‘nanny state’ stuff we said before it was us in Government.”

Most of the irony is found in the Parliamentary precinct and experts agree it cannot be removed unless every building there is completely destroyed.

The Historic Places Trust has voiced concern at the plan, as some of the structures have heritage value, and the complex performs a useful democratic function.

Minister of Local Government Rodney Hide, who would have responsibility for the consents process, brushed aside this objection.

“‘Useful democratic function’?” said Hide. “That’s not irony. That’s just an oxymoron.”

ACT MP John Boscawen rebutted assertions that, with worldwide irony at unprecedented levels, it is dangerous to unearth more.

“Global irony is decreasing,” he said. “Records show it peaked 2004, when George W Bush was re-elected.”

Boscawen was placed on ACT’s list after organising a march “for democracy” (about smacking). Now, Local Government Minister Rodney Hide is his party leader.

Prime Minister John Key, who claims that by ‘changes to Schedule 4′ he meant making it bigger, emphasised the benefits of more freely-available irony.

He cited a recent survey which found that 99.2% of parliamentarians suffered from irony deficiency and the other one was unavailable for testing.

Ironising the economy would also leave future Governments free to use correct spelling.

“For too long now, we’ve had to subistitute a ‘c’ for ‘r’ because there wasn’t enough irony to go round,” said Key.

“I believe in a nation where we can call them what they are: an Ironic Cycleway Stretching the Length of New Zealand, an Ironic Structure for Auckland’s Waterfront, that kind of thing.”

The Thorndon deposit will add to the rich irony sands already discovered in the foreshore and seabed.

I don’t normally pay much attention to such unsolicited overseas musical compositions as cross my desk from time to time.

In this case, perhaps it was the element of social commentary that piqued my interest; perhaps it was the attached note from the author offering to “feed [my] guts to the gators and stew the rest of [me] in lye” if I did not publish it.

Accordingly, I now present “The Battle of No Oil, Please”, by Mr Curly Dustfoot. Actually, I forget what the man was called – the computer that received the original email was deepwatered by a chianti spill – but it was definitely one of those Country/Western/Hobbit names. I recall he also described himself as “not one of your fancy big-city song slingers”.

In the absence of further instructions I’ve recreated the song from memory. Which is, I think, doubly unfair as I am not a professional musician and wouldn’t have felt obliged to, except technology has made music production so tragically available to the masses.

Anyway, I hope, for my intestines’ sake, that this is sufficient.

Click here to download the MP3
In tribute to our lads’ victory in South Africa, here’s a Bonus World Cup Remix
and much like BP, I’m keen to use the internet to find people who think they can do a better job: Audacity files (.zip, 2.8MB)

THE BATTLE OF NO OIL, PLEASE
by Lightning Sideburns

In twenty ten BP caused a slick
With an oil well they built off the mighty Mississip’.
The platform blew apart at the seams
And sank in a fire you could see from New Orleans.

CHORUS
Tried to stop the oil, but the oil kept a-gushing
There’s sure more round than there was a while ago
Tried once more, the oil went on rushing
Out a hole in the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

So they tried to thin that oil with toxic crud
And they tried to plug the hole with some souped-up mud
The best plan they had was gonna take a month or three
So they made the well top hat and they set fire to the sea.

CHORUS
Tried to stop the oil, but the oil kept a-gushing
There’s sure more round than there was a while ago
Tried once more, the oil went on rushing
Out a hole in the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

Obama came on down to see the slick
Then went chasin’ his own tail lookin’ for an ass to kick
The birds was fouled up, the fishes was screwed
Even ole Yes We Can couldn’t stop that crude
[Oil, that is. Black sludge. Gulf goobers.]

CHORUS
Tried to stop the oil, but the oil kept a-gushing
There’s sure more round than there was a while ago
Tried once more, the oil went on rushing
Out a hole in the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

CHORUS 2
Well they cleaned up for the cameras and then laid off all the workers
They tried to hide the evidence and tried to lie low
They lied about risks and they lied about the leak rate
And they made their bed and lied there in the Gulf of Mexico

When Congress looked BP in the eyes
Joe Barton took the chance to apologise.
Yeah it aint happened prior and it caused ‘em distress
Someone made Big Oil pay for its own mess

CHORUS
Tried to stop the oil, but the oil kept a-gushing
There’s sure more round than there was a while ago
Tried once more, the oil went on rushing
Out a hole in the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

CHORUS 2
Yeah! They cleaned up for the cameras and then laid off all the workers
They tried to hide the evidence and tried to lie low
They lied about risks and they lied about the leak rate
And they made their bed and lied there in the Gulf of Mexico
[Y'all come back now, hear?]

Readers may note a resemblance – for the sake of my intestines I will suggest it is conincidental – to The Battle of New Orleans, a song celebrating the epinymous incident in the American War of Independence.

Coming as it did just after peace was concluded in negotiations in far-off Europe, the battle – with its famous routing of the British – both marked the start of a new nation and provided a memorable example of that nation’s traditional gratuitous violence.

The song was apparently written by a schoolteacher and as performed by Johnny Horton in 1959 it became a hit. This may make it the most successful song ever written for educational purposes.

It was brought to the Empire by Lonnie Donegan’s version, which was in turn parodied in New Zealand by the Howard Morrison Quartet as The Battle of the Waikato. So my correspondent Mr Thunderpants, or whatever his name is, is in good company – though I’m not sure he’d have the wit to appreciate it.

by Lyndon Hood

Rather than paying for a real logo, the Auckland Transition Agency has decided to run a public competition, complete with an open brief and a panel of unqualified judges. The idea is, this will be as awesome as the NZ Herald’s flag designs.

Debate is raging as to whether this is a surprisingly stupid plan or merely the kind of fundamental mistake you’d expect from a budding autocracy.

They have requested something “distinctive, exciting and dynamic”:

Click to enlarge

… although admittedly they also want it to reflect the nature of the newly-united city. This is trickier than it sounds, because you can’t really make a graphic of a giant clusterf#%k that’s appropriate for public consumption.

So I decided to concentrate on depicting the spirit in which the Auckland super city and its council were created.

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Unfortunately they say they’re not after a coat of arms or crest, because I was rather pleased with this:

Click to enlarge

The blazon shows the National Party’s legendary sense of righteous indignation – a creature famously ready to savage anyone who would undermine democracy, pouncing at the first sign of anyone allowing unelected government lackeys to control our lives, at the slightest abuse of process, or at any attempt to use political deals to rush through laws that ignore the objections of everyday New Zealanders.

It is depicted as confused and angry, because it hasn’t been let off its leash and it doesn’t understand why.

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

Some, who object to councils spending money on logos at all, have suggested the following:

Click to enlarge

However, it’s worth noting that under recent court rulings this could breach the copyrights both of the estate of composer John Cage and of author Stephenie Meyer.

The only other selection criteria that stuck in my mind was that the proposed logo had to be suitable for rubbish bags. I apologise to my competitors if this sews up the competition, but my final offering is this:

Click to enlarge

ENDS

Click to enlarge

Pity Simon Power.

On his sofa watching The Shawshank Redemption, crying into his ice cream while Judith Collins and Rodney Hide announce a new Three Strikes plan.

The Minister of Corrections and the Minister of Local Government.

Who cares if it’s a Justice bill. I didn’t want to announce it anyway.

He hasn’t checked the rules but he has a horrible feeling he might be required to defend the bill in Parliament. Perhaps he could go on some kind of holiday.

‘Three Strikes’. Honestly.

Simon reminds himself that New Zealand does, actually, do quite well at softball. It doesn’t help.

At least he knows now what was happening. Why Judith and Rodney had all those meetings ‘about crushing cars in the super city’. That ‘dodgy lock’ that kept shutting him out of John Key’s office.

That time in Cabinet when they said they were hungry and sent him to the Supreme Court to fetch a slice of statutory tort. And he went, too, even though he knew statutory torts do not come by the slice.

And fair enough. If they wanted a plan that is tough on criminals – while avoiding anything that might actually reduce crime – the last thing they needed was input from someone who actually understood criminal justice. Or might consider how hard it is finding staff for the prisons we have now.

A plan they could credibly (or at least, assertively) say is to make the streets safer. A plan which seems, to Simon, designed to make bad people worse.

Rodney and his mates apparently think that criminals make rational, benefit/loss decisions, that repeat offenders are the sort to be deterred by the threat of punishment. But then, if they made their decisions based on reason, they wouldn’t have already committed multiple serious offences against the state.

Neither would the criminals, come to think of it.

All that for policy Simon thought was only going to first reading because of the coalition agreement, which has now been made harsher.

A policy ACT only has because nobody would vote for their actual policies.

A policy Judith Collins is only so keen on because of… because of something to do with being Judith Collins.

Criminals sometimes believe the justice system is motivated by disproportionate malice rather than a measured response to their illegal actions. That kind of idea is detrimental to their ability to change their ways, and now Simon is beginning to wonder if they are right.

Not that Simon would ever commit a serious violent offence.

Wouldn’t think of it.

Simon learned to stop being annoyed a long time ago. Judith feeds on outrage.

Whatever. It’ll take most of a decade to even start kicking in. So that’s all right.

It’s not Simon’s problem.

It’s not my problem.

And when all these high-risk offenders start getting dropped into this strange outside world without the supervision of parole, ACT will never lack horrific crimes to hitch their wagon to. And National will never want for a coalition partner.

It might not be as bad as it looks. There could be a plan.

Like, you propose implementing your stupid policy in a really daft way, then after submissions you ‘listen’ and implement your stupid policy in a practical way. Which leaves everyone relatively relieved.

Simon might hope they are doing that. That would be the wise thing to do.

One the other hand, any meeting of minds between Judith Collins and David Garret is unlikely to be chaired by Captain Sensible.

It’s not like Simon doesn’t have dreams of his own. He has a intricate scheme to refine the court system until it is as swift and efficient as a coin toss. This is coming along nicely. Simon should be happy.

Box of birds, me.

Simon has been having nightmares.

Like the one where he’s telling Rodney Hide that A-list murder victims, whose killers would still have been in jail, isn’t really enough to prove three strikes will make the whole country safer. So Rodney smiles, and produces the secret list of people who are alive now, who would have been dead under his plan, to compare it with.

Or the one where he wakes up with neat puncture marks on his abdomen, and knows that Judith has returned, sucking the lilyness out of his liver. And that he’s tried to warn his colleagues for weeks, but their eyes just seem to glaze over, like when he tries to tell them about the consistency with fair trial rights of the requirement to identify issues in dispute.

Simon can’t help reaching under his shirt to check.

Nothing there. Just a dream.

Simon had forgotten there was baseball in The Shawshank Redemption. He stops the movie, and puts The Boomtown Rats on the stereo.

Tell me why
I Don’t Like Mondays
Tell me why
I Don’t Like Mondays

Outside, people keep committing crimes.

Poor old Simon Power.

Click to enlarge