Meanwhile, Christopher Luxon has watched his approval rating sink to minus 14. Two years into their first term, Prime Ministers should still be enjoying their honeymoon with voters. Instead, Luxon is struggling.
The standard explanations fall short. Perhaps the government bungled the economy? True, the economy has stalled for years, not least because the previous Labour government left behind large deficits. But inflation is settling down, and unemployment is not at catastrophic levels, either.
So maybe Labour’s lift in the polls is because their policies are actually good? Except that is not true. Economists have torn them apart.
What we are witnessing runs deeper than a normal political cycle. The traditional link between sound policy and electoral reward has been broken. Something else now drives voter choice. The ability to connect emotionally matters more than the ability to deliver results.
Welcome to the politics of feels.
The shift away from facts, policies and knowledge has been happening for some time. During New Zealand’s 2023 election campaign, when the cost of living dominated every political conversation, 70 per cent of New Zealanders could not identify the Reserve Bank’s inflation target of 1-3 per cent.
Blaming voters would be easy, but wrong. Voters are rational people who are busy with their own lives. So, when only 46 per cent understand their electoral system’s five per cent threshold, when just 12 per cent can name the three branches of government, perhaps we should not be surprised if they vote according to gut feeling.
The electorate’s knowledge deficit might be manageable if there were at least a broader political discourse. But New Zealand’s media has hollowed out. Trust in news sits at 32 per cent. The major newspapers have lost many of their journalists. What remains is often more about clicks than about informing people.
Politics has always had its performers selling dreams without details. But those politicians operated in a different world, one in which media still scrutinised politicians and institutions still functioned.
Not anymore. Without reliable information or trusted interpreters, voters fall back on feels. Not passionate emotions exactly, but something much more basic: gut instinct about who seems real and what sounds true.
It works through simplicity. Can I understand this promise without a degree in economics? It works through authenticity, too. Does this person talk like someone I can relate to? And it needs a story. Does this explanation match how I already think the world works? If these things somehow feel right, few people ask for more details.
Consider Labour’s capital gains tax announcement. From an economic perspective, it violates every basic principle. The tax applies only to property investment, abandoning broad-base, low-rate orthodoxy. It would even tax ‘gains’ that are only due to inflation. Meanwhile, the revenue would fund three free GP visits for every New Zealander. It is a demand subsidy thrown into a system already starved of doctors. It is like dealing with traffic congestion by subsidising fuel costs.
Yet politically, this policy mess worked brilliantly. “Three free doctor visits” needs no explanation. Everyone gets it. “Tax rich landlords to help ordinary families” slots perfectly into existing prejudices. Never mind that free visits mean nothing when there are no doctors to visit.
What sticks is the promise. Simple ideas beat complicated ones. The public’s enthusiastic response was thus ill-informed but not irrational. When you cannot evaluate the technical merits of competing healthcare models, “free visits” beats “system reform” every time.
This model of politics is becoming entrenched across the democratic world. Boris Johnson took Britain with bluster and affability, not policy. Justin Trudeau captured Canada with a polished image and progressive optimism, not detailed ideas. Emmanuel Macron won France by seeming different. Such simple stories work. Complex policy truths rarely do.
Labour has mastered this new politics, but it does not come naturally to National under Christopher Luxon.
The Prime Minister brings to politics the habits of his long corporate career. For seven years as Air New Zealand’s chief executive, he ran a company where metrics mattered, and communication followed corporate templates. That approach delivered in business. But in politics, it creates distance.
Luxon’s public appearances follow these patterns. He speaks in management-speak about “delivering for New Zealanders”. When he attempted to show cultural awareness by referencing Taylor Swift, the execution was so mechanical it became news. The gap between corporate communication and political connection could hardly be clearer.
It shows in the polling numbers. Women aged 18-49 support left-wing parties at 76.5 per cent, the highest rate ever recorded in New Zealand. This is not some fringe group. This is a quarter of the electorate, and the group most immersed in the online environment where tone and connection matter at least as much as policy detail.
With his more technical style, Luxon does not reach this demographic. But he has lost more than their votes. He no longer reaches the people who shape the conversation.
Therefore, New Zealand’s 2026 election is wide open. Still, feels are unreliable. Labour’s bounce might not last. National might reconnect with voters with a new approach. Swing voters will choose based on instinct, not spreadsheets.
Yet there is no guarantee that substance will return to political discussion. On the contrary, the political system now rewards the wrong things. Good campaigners win more often than good administrators. Performativity matters more than policy.
The bigger question is therefore not who wins in 2026. It is why the links between what governments do and what voters reward have snapped.
Politics has always mixed substance with show. In New Zealand, Prime Minister Rob Muldoon charmed voters while his Think Big projects wasted billions. David Lange deployed wit while Roger Douglas re-engineered the economy behind his back.
But the proportions have changed. When most voters have no command of basic economic facts, when barely a third trust the media, when success requires performative ‘authenticity’ rather than demonstrating competence, democracy changes shape.
This is the political environment now. Politicians and parties must work within it, however uncomfortable that may be.
Dr Oliver Hartwich is the Executive Director of The New Zealand Initiative think tank. This article was first published HERE.
So maybe Labour’s lift in the polls is because their policies are actually good? Except that is not true. Economists have torn them apart.
What we are witnessing runs deeper than a normal political cycle. The traditional link between sound policy and electoral reward has been broken. Something else now drives voter choice. The ability to connect emotionally matters more than the ability to deliver results.
Welcome to the politics of feels.
The shift away from facts, policies and knowledge has been happening for some time. During New Zealand’s 2023 election campaign, when the cost of living dominated every political conversation, 70 per cent of New Zealanders could not identify the Reserve Bank’s inflation target of 1-3 per cent.
Blaming voters would be easy, but wrong. Voters are rational people who are busy with their own lives. So, when only 46 per cent understand their electoral system’s five per cent threshold, when just 12 per cent can name the three branches of government, perhaps we should not be surprised if they vote according to gut feeling.
The electorate’s knowledge deficit might be manageable if there were at least a broader political discourse. But New Zealand’s media has hollowed out. Trust in news sits at 32 per cent. The major newspapers have lost many of their journalists. What remains is often more about clicks than about informing people.
Politics has always had its performers selling dreams without details. But those politicians operated in a different world, one in which media still scrutinised politicians and institutions still functioned.
Not anymore. Without reliable information or trusted interpreters, voters fall back on feels. Not passionate emotions exactly, but something much more basic: gut instinct about who seems real and what sounds true.
It works through simplicity. Can I understand this promise without a degree in economics? It works through authenticity, too. Does this person talk like someone I can relate to? And it needs a story. Does this explanation match how I already think the world works? If these things somehow feel right, few people ask for more details.
Consider Labour’s capital gains tax announcement. From an economic perspective, it violates every basic principle. The tax applies only to property investment, abandoning broad-base, low-rate orthodoxy. It would even tax ‘gains’ that are only due to inflation. Meanwhile, the revenue would fund three free GP visits for every New Zealander. It is a demand subsidy thrown into a system already starved of doctors. It is like dealing with traffic congestion by subsidising fuel costs.
Yet politically, this policy mess worked brilliantly. “Three free doctor visits” needs no explanation. Everyone gets it. “Tax rich landlords to help ordinary families” slots perfectly into existing prejudices. Never mind that free visits mean nothing when there are no doctors to visit.
What sticks is the promise. Simple ideas beat complicated ones. The public’s enthusiastic response was thus ill-informed but not irrational. When you cannot evaluate the technical merits of competing healthcare models, “free visits” beats “system reform” every time.
This model of politics is becoming entrenched across the democratic world. Boris Johnson took Britain with bluster and affability, not policy. Justin Trudeau captured Canada with a polished image and progressive optimism, not detailed ideas. Emmanuel Macron won France by seeming different. Such simple stories work. Complex policy truths rarely do.
Labour has mastered this new politics, but it does not come naturally to National under Christopher Luxon.
The Prime Minister brings to politics the habits of his long corporate career. For seven years as Air New Zealand’s chief executive, he ran a company where metrics mattered, and communication followed corporate templates. That approach delivered in business. But in politics, it creates distance.
Luxon’s public appearances follow these patterns. He speaks in management-speak about “delivering for New Zealanders”. When he attempted to show cultural awareness by referencing Taylor Swift, the execution was so mechanical it became news. The gap between corporate communication and political connection could hardly be clearer.
It shows in the polling numbers. Women aged 18-49 support left-wing parties at 76.5 per cent, the highest rate ever recorded in New Zealand. This is not some fringe group. This is a quarter of the electorate, and the group most immersed in the online environment where tone and connection matter at least as much as policy detail.
With his more technical style, Luxon does not reach this demographic. But he has lost more than their votes. He no longer reaches the people who shape the conversation.
Therefore, New Zealand’s 2026 election is wide open. Still, feels are unreliable. Labour’s bounce might not last. National might reconnect with voters with a new approach. Swing voters will choose based on instinct, not spreadsheets.
Yet there is no guarantee that substance will return to political discussion. On the contrary, the political system now rewards the wrong things. Good campaigners win more often than good administrators. Performativity matters more than policy.
The bigger question is therefore not who wins in 2026. It is why the links between what governments do and what voters reward have snapped.
Politics has always mixed substance with show. In New Zealand, Prime Minister Rob Muldoon charmed voters while his Think Big projects wasted billions. David Lange deployed wit while Roger Douglas re-engineered the economy behind his back.
But the proportions have changed. When most voters have no command of basic economic facts, when barely a third trust the media, when success requires performative ‘authenticity’ rather than demonstrating competence, democracy changes shape.
This is the political environment now. Politicians and parties must work within it, however uncomfortable that may be.
Dr Oliver Hartwich is the Executive Director of The New Zealand Initiative think tank. This article was first published HERE.
No comments:
Post a Comment