New Zealand’s Prime Minister Christopher Luxon has just issued his government’s plan for the final quarter of 2024. If that sounds more like a corporate earnings call than political leadership, you would not be far off the mark.
Luxon, who has been in office for just under a year, is running New Zealand’s government as if it were listed on the NZX. This is most visible in his penchant for action plans and key performance indicators for his ministers.
It is a stark departure from his predecessors’ styles. John Key’s ‘incremental radicalism’ and Jacinda Ardern’s ‘politics of kindness’ have given way to Luxon’s ‘management by spreadsheet’.
To understand Luxon’s unique approach, it is crucial to examine his background.
Luxon’s long corporate career is evident in every aspect of his leadership. As a former chief executive of Air New Zealand and senior executive at Unilever, he is accustomed to quarterly reports and measurable outcomes. Now, he is applying these principles to the messy world of politics.
Of course, it is not uncommon for new governments to start with 100-day plans. What sets Luxon apart, though, is his insistence on continuing this approach beyond the honeymoon period. While most governments eventually face what Harold Macmillan famously referred to as ‘events, dear boy, events’ – unforeseen crises that disrupt even the best-laid plans – Luxon seems determined to stay on track with his action plans.
In this way, Luxon’s government is the antithesis of the previous administrations under Jacinda Ardern and her successor, Chris Hipkins. Their tenure was marked by grand ambitions and sweeping rhetoric, but often fell short on delivery and implementation. Policies were frequently rushed, poorly thought through and rarely subjected to rigorous evaluation or amendment.
Luxon’s government, by contrast, is all about measurable progress. His action plans read like a corporate to-do list: ‘Introduce legislation to bring back Charter Schools by June’, ‘Legalise foreign building products’ by September, ‘Begin resource management reform by December.’ It is politics reduced to bullet points, but each point represents a concrete policy goal.
Critics might argue that this approach lacks vision or overarching narrative. Yet, as these quarterly plans accumulate, a bigger picture is emerging. Piece by piece, like a jigsaw puzzle, Luxon is reshaping New Zealand’s political and economic landscape.
The pace is notably quicker than under John Key’s government. In my 2014 essay Quiet Achievers, published after Key’s first two terms, I had argued that Key’s slow but steady approach was yielding results. However, Key’s third term then saw a significant slowdown in reform efforts, leaving many, myself included, to view it as a missed opportunity.
Luxon seems determined not to repeat that mistake. His rapid-fire approach to policy implementation suggests a leader acutely aware of the fleeting nature of political capital. In this, there are hints of the systematic overhaul of New Zealand’s economy in the 1980s under Roger Douglas, albeit with a more measured pace.
But will it work?
Luxon’s strategy raises intriguing parallels with past attempts to apply business principles to government, from Jimmy Carter’s ‘zero-based budgeting’ to Tony Blair’s ‘delivery unit’. The mixed success of these efforts suggests that while corporate techniques can sometimes enhance governance, they are not always a panacea for political challenges.
History may also caution us about the pitfalls of over-planning in politics.
Macmillan’s famous quip about ‘events’ was not merely witty; it reflected the reality that governance often requires rapid responses to unforeseen crises. As military strategists know, no battle plan survives the first contact with the enemy. With the government’s quarterly plans, it might be the same once a real crisis hits.
Moreover, not every aspect of governance can be reduced to a tick-box exercise. Some of the most significant political achievements are the result of long-term vision and patience, qualities that may be at odds with a quarterly reporting mindset.
But an even bigger question is whether Luxon can maintain this momentum. Most governments begin with big ambitions, only to sooner or later find themselves bogged down by bureaucratic inertia and the relentless demands of day-to-day governance. So how long will it take until the guardians of the status quo are back in charge? When will ‘the blob’ derail the Government’s quarterly plans?
Because that is another big difference between politics and the corporate environment: In business, a CEO’s word is often final. In politics, even with a majority, a prime minister must navigate a complex web of stakeholders, public opinion and the reality of the public service.
There is no guarantee a prime minister will be effective just because he or she holds that office. Being prime minister, in a Westminster democracy, is not the same as being CEO of a large corporation.
Luxon’s method might have a more natural home in a place like Singapore, where the machinery of government already operates more like a corporation. Indeed, there is a touch of Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew in Luxon’s technocratic style.
In New Zealand, however, with its labyrinthine bureaucracy, myriad stakeholder groups and sacred policy cows, achieving Singaporean style policy development is a far more daunting task.
This points us to a potential focus for Luxon’s second term, should he secure one (which, at this juncture, seems likely): to reform New Zealand’s reformability. It would require a comprehensive reset of the machinery of government.
Such systematic reforms could enable not just Luxon, but also his successors, to govern more swiftly and effectively – and perhaps a bit more like a company.
Such a reform would be a significant undertaking, potentially as transformative as the sweeping changes of the 1980s. It would consist of cutting through New Zealand’s maze of ministerial portfolios, government agencies and rules of decision making. It would also recalibrate power between central and local government and revisit the boundaries between government and the private sector.
We shall wait if the first steps of such reforms will find their way onto one of Luxon’s next quarterly plans.
For the time being, however, there is something refreshing about Luxon’s approach. At a time when politicians’ lofty promises often vanish without a trace, the focus on measurable outcomes is a breath of fresh air.
Dr Oliver Hartwich is the Executive Director of The New Zealand Initiative think tank. This article was first published HERE.
To understand Luxon’s unique approach, it is crucial to examine his background.
Luxon’s long corporate career is evident in every aspect of his leadership. As a former chief executive of Air New Zealand and senior executive at Unilever, he is accustomed to quarterly reports and measurable outcomes. Now, he is applying these principles to the messy world of politics.
Of course, it is not uncommon for new governments to start with 100-day plans. What sets Luxon apart, though, is his insistence on continuing this approach beyond the honeymoon period. While most governments eventually face what Harold Macmillan famously referred to as ‘events, dear boy, events’ – unforeseen crises that disrupt even the best-laid plans – Luxon seems determined to stay on track with his action plans.
In this way, Luxon’s government is the antithesis of the previous administrations under Jacinda Ardern and her successor, Chris Hipkins. Their tenure was marked by grand ambitions and sweeping rhetoric, but often fell short on delivery and implementation. Policies were frequently rushed, poorly thought through and rarely subjected to rigorous evaluation or amendment.
Luxon’s government, by contrast, is all about measurable progress. His action plans read like a corporate to-do list: ‘Introduce legislation to bring back Charter Schools by June’, ‘Legalise foreign building products’ by September, ‘Begin resource management reform by December.’ It is politics reduced to bullet points, but each point represents a concrete policy goal.
Critics might argue that this approach lacks vision or overarching narrative. Yet, as these quarterly plans accumulate, a bigger picture is emerging. Piece by piece, like a jigsaw puzzle, Luxon is reshaping New Zealand’s political and economic landscape.
The pace is notably quicker than under John Key’s government. In my 2014 essay Quiet Achievers, published after Key’s first two terms, I had argued that Key’s slow but steady approach was yielding results. However, Key’s third term then saw a significant slowdown in reform efforts, leaving many, myself included, to view it as a missed opportunity.
Luxon seems determined not to repeat that mistake. His rapid-fire approach to policy implementation suggests a leader acutely aware of the fleeting nature of political capital. In this, there are hints of the systematic overhaul of New Zealand’s economy in the 1980s under Roger Douglas, albeit with a more measured pace.
But will it work?
Luxon’s strategy raises intriguing parallels with past attempts to apply business principles to government, from Jimmy Carter’s ‘zero-based budgeting’ to Tony Blair’s ‘delivery unit’. The mixed success of these efforts suggests that while corporate techniques can sometimes enhance governance, they are not always a panacea for political challenges.
History may also caution us about the pitfalls of over-planning in politics.
Macmillan’s famous quip about ‘events’ was not merely witty; it reflected the reality that governance often requires rapid responses to unforeseen crises. As military strategists know, no battle plan survives the first contact with the enemy. With the government’s quarterly plans, it might be the same once a real crisis hits.
Moreover, not every aspect of governance can be reduced to a tick-box exercise. Some of the most significant political achievements are the result of long-term vision and patience, qualities that may be at odds with a quarterly reporting mindset.
But an even bigger question is whether Luxon can maintain this momentum. Most governments begin with big ambitions, only to sooner or later find themselves bogged down by bureaucratic inertia and the relentless demands of day-to-day governance. So how long will it take until the guardians of the status quo are back in charge? When will ‘the blob’ derail the Government’s quarterly plans?
Because that is another big difference between politics and the corporate environment: In business, a CEO’s word is often final. In politics, even with a majority, a prime minister must navigate a complex web of stakeholders, public opinion and the reality of the public service.
There is no guarantee a prime minister will be effective just because he or she holds that office. Being prime minister, in a Westminster democracy, is not the same as being CEO of a large corporation.
Luxon’s method might have a more natural home in a place like Singapore, where the machinery of government already operates more like a corporation. Indeed, there is a touch of Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew in Luxon’s technocratic style.
In New Zealand, however, with its labyrinthine bureaucracy, myriad stakeholder groups and sacred policy cows, achieving Singaporean style policy development is a far more daunting task.
This points us to a potential focus for Luxon’s second term, should he secure one (which, at this juncture, seems likely): to reform New Zealand’s reformability. It would require a comprehensive reset of the machinery of government.
Such systematic reforms could enable not just Luxon, but also his successors, to govern more swiftly and effectively – and perhaps a bit more like a company.
Such a reform would be a significant undertaking, potentially as transformative as the sweeping changes of the 1980s. It would consist of cutting through New Zealand’s maze of ministerial portfolios, government agencies and rules of decision making. It would also recalibrate power between central and local government and revisit the boundaries between government and the private sector.
We shall wait if the first steps of such reforms will find their way onto one of Luxon’s next quarterly plans.
For the time being, however, there is something refreshing about Luxon’s approach. At a time when politicians’ lofty promises often vanish without a trace, the focus on measurable outcomes is a breath of fresh air.
Dr Oliver Hartwich is the Executive Director of The New Zealand Initiative think tank. This article was first published HERE.
6 comments:
Running a country is not like running a company.
Thank goodness NZ is rid of the marxist agenda but there is still another agenda at play under Luxon.
Oh for a leader who has run their own business and governs for the average kiwi. Not for the unions and not for the corporates.
However has the PM misread the nation who generally applaud David Seymours work with the Treaty of Watangi Principles Bill and Mr Luxons own fetish with Zero Carbon which is impossible to achieve if achievement meands NO breathing . He should define what he would personally accept in both counts and let the nation submit and discuss "a setting of the sails to bring both ships to harbour "
I'm just happy we have a prime minster that wants to get the country moving and wants to increase our prosperity. This new govt with its coalition is doing an excellent job in my opinion. π
Oliver's article starts well then unfortunately turns into a farce.
The principals of good management/governance apply to all organisations (which even an academic should be aware of).
Luxon's goal based, people centric approach has taken a failing party (under Collins) to a well oiled winning machine implementing essential and difficult change at breakneck pace.
And if you're still wondering about Luxon's leadership skills, consider the constructive contribution Winston continues to make towards improving NZ.
Winston is actually being useful to someone other than himself.... for the first time in his career!
Inasmuch as every government is an artificial person (corporation), an abstraction, and a creature of the mind only, a government can interface only with other artificial persons (corporations).
The legal manifestations of this is that no government, as well as any law, agency, aspect, court, etc. can concern itself with anything other than corporate, artificial persons and the contracts between them.
What is prevalent now is corporate law (admiralty law/maritime law) which functions on contract law. All agreements are contracts and all corporations operate under commerce and contract Law.
Every public entity in New Zealand is now (post 1986) a corporation; the Government, the Local Councils, the Police, the Courts, the Ministry of Health, the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Transport, the IRD ect.
So, the PM is only the temporary CEO of our corporate state government and ministers, the temporary board members of our corporate state government.
>"What is prevalent now is corporate law (admiralty law/maritime law) which functions on contract law. "
???? I don't think this came from any recognised law course.
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