At Eden Park, concerts are capped at twelve a year from six artists. Weekday shows must finish by 11 pm, with a maximum duration of five hours. No more than four concerts in any four-week period. The minister, Chris Bishop, thinks these rules are absurd, yet the law forces him to conduct a four to six-week investigation and publish a report before Cabinet can change them.
That is New Zealand in miniature. We substitute process for decision.
Our nation’s favourite phrases help us sleep through decline. Every debate about our challenges sounds identical. The housing crisis, the brain drain or the productivity slump: we blame the “tyranny of distance,” accept we “can’t compete with Australia” and console ourselves with being a “lifestyle superpower.”
Then we reach for the same solutions: pursuing “knowledge economy” dreams, building an “innovation ecosystem” and invoking the famous “No. 8 wire mentality.”
While we recycle these clichés, our competitive position has slipped relative to peers. In the OECD’s Product Market Regulation survey, New Zealand ranked near the top in 1998 but sits around the OECD average today. The Economist ranked us 33rd out of 37 OECD economies for 2024 performance. Our GDP per capita remains 30 percent below the average for the top half of OECD countries.
The drift is visible at home. Wellington’s ageing pipes have leaked for years. Auckland’s second harbour crossing has been studied for decades without being built. Major infrastructure takes 15 years from idea to completion (if things go well).
Yet drift is not destiny. Politicians sometimes show they can act decisively. The plan to replace NCEA angers those hiding behind meaningless credits but promises clearer standards for students. Proposed new planning laws built on property rights will remove prescriptive rules that shield incumbents.
These reforms show what becomes possible when politicians choose progress over popularity. Roger Douglas understood this when he reformed on multiple fronts simultaneously, ensuring most people gained something even as specific privileges disappeared.
Other small nations have shown that decisive action is essential. Estonia digitised the state and built a tech economy, even as older citizens faced digital-exclusion challenges. Ireland’s corporate tax strategy attracted vast foreign investment while traditional agriculture shrank from nine to four percent of employment.
These countries made explicit choices about national direction despite resistance from affected groups. They understood that waiting for unanimous agreement means accepting decline by default.
But New Zealand all too often tries to avoid offending anyone. That has left us in gentle mediocrity: unable to achieve significant change because someone, somewhere, might object.
The irony is that protecting every existing interest – every bureaucrat’s position, every planning restriction, every subsidy – is precisely what favours the few at everyone’s expense. Young people locked out of housing, students failed by NCEA, workers trapped in a low-productivity economy: these are the invisible casualties of our refusal to choose.
And then we have these tired clichés to hide our decline. “Punching above our weight” means never specifying what weight class we compete in. “Clean and green” lets us avoid hard environmental trade-offs. “She’ll be right” ensures no one takes responsibility when things do not look flash.
Most damaging is how these phrases prevent genuine reform. Any proposed change meets the same response: that would upset someone, and that would not be the Kiwi way. The clichés become weapons against progress itself.
The most successful reforms move on multiple fronts simultaneously. When everyone gains something from the package of changes, resistance weakens. Opening markets creates winners beyond those losing protection. Building more houses helps renters even as it challenges property owners’ monopoly on scarcity.
Real decision-making requires naming goals explicitly with measurable outcomes within three years. Identify costs and benefits clearly. Specify mitigations for those adversely affected. State what rule must actually change. Declare what we stop doing to make room for the new.
Take Eden Park again: the goal is more events and economic activity. Artists, hospitality and city revenue benefit. Some neighbouring residents face disruption on concert nights – though many will see property values rise. Mitigations could include transport plans, noise buffers and compensation funds. The rule change is specific amendments to the Auckland Unitary Plan. We stop pretending zero impact is possible or desirable.
Opening Eden Park does not take from neighbours so much as it stops their preferences from binding everyone else. That distinction matters. Reform that expands opportunities differs fundamentally from mere redistribution. When competition replaces privilege, the economy grows. When houses can be built, housing becomes affordable. When schools focus on knowledge rather than process, students learn.
New Zealand does not need new narratives. Stories do not create change. Decisions do.
No country has ever consulted its way to prosperity. Successful countries prioritise national progress over protecting every existing arrangement. They implement mitigations where possible, but do not let the perfect become the enemy of the necessary.
Until we develop the courage for real decisions with real consequences, we will keep drowning in our own clichés.
Decline is not forced on us. It is simply the price of never choosing.
To read the full article on the NZ Herald website, click here.