Valedictory Statement

In my maiden speech on 2 October 1984, I paid tribute to a couple of my predecessors who had been members of Parliament for Waitaki—both, I thought, far more distinguished than I could ever aspire to be, and I was right. The first was the Rev. Arnold Nordmeyer, one of the architects of New Zealand’s welfare State. Nordie, the author of the 1958 “black” Budget, displayed a degree of raw political courage, rare in any Parliament. Earlier, as Presbyterian Minister for Kurow, he had visited a mother in one of the hydro construction cottages. Her young children were grubby. They had ringworm, nits, and runny noses. Nordie inquired how long it was since they had been bathed. The woman replied that it was some time, as her husband required the use of the bath to brew his beer. Nordie went into the bathroom and pulled the plug on the brew. Nordie might not have voted to lower the drinking age, but I am sure he would have applauded the 75 percent reduction in registered unemployment achieved by Helen Clark’s Government.

An earlier representative, Jock McKenzie, was the Minister of Lands who broke up the big estates for family farm settlement. That policy, I told the House 80-odd years later, had reflected the egalitarian values of New Zealanders and made us the sort of society we still are, by and large, today. The same principles led this Government to abolish interest on student loans. The Hon Jock McKenzie also set up legislation to give effect to the so-called Queen’s Chain. In 1984 I said that the law on public access was ridiculously complicated and uncertain, and needed sorting out. I quoted the anonymous citizen who, when that great proponent of private property rights, the first Earl of Camden, in 1764 fenced off a piece of common land for his own exclusive use, wrote:

The law doth punish man or woman

That steals the goose from off the common,

But lets the greater felon loose

That steals the common from the goose.

I regret that this is still unfinished business I leave behind, but I am confident that quite soon now this Parliament will ensure that the birthright of New Zealanders to enjoy responsible and legal access to our glorious natural environment will prevail over the selfishness of the squatter Camden.

It is reckoned to be better to be in Government for a week than in Opposition for a year, but one does not have to be in this place on either side for long to appreciate that it is better to be in Cabinet. Geoffrey Palmer, when Prime Minister, gave six of us the opportunity to take that step up in February 1990. Six established Ministers, planning to retire at the end of the term, were invited by Geoffrey to resign their portfolios. Well, it did not turn round the fortunes of that Government but it did induce me personally to stay in politics and, indeed, to return in 1993—a courtesy of the generous people of Timaru, having lost my always tenuous grip on Waitaki in October 1990. Well, now it is my turn to stand down in order that new and younger blood may flow into the arteries of the Government, so I reflect on the highlights for me of my ministerial career.

In 1990 I took on agriculture and forestry from Colin Moyle. His were giant shoes in which to step. I would have liked to reform the producer boards, but there was not enough time; nor was there a political mandate, other than the enthusiastic support of Roger Douglas—and he was counting down to retirement. I did think that I might at least remove the monopoly of the Apple and Pear Marketing Board in the domestic pipfruit market, where it was resented by retailers and consumers alike, while preserving the single-desk export arrangement. But this plan was frustrated by the Prime Minister who, he said mistakenly, having misheard a briefing in his limo on the way to a meeting of noisy Hawke’s Bay orchardists, assured the industry that the status quo would prevail. I was utterly dismayed by this. But Cabinet, after intense discussion, decided that the Prime Minister’s word, however careless, must “be our bond”.

The issue that exercised me most in 1990 was how to respond to the devastation left behind by Cyclone Bola. By promoting sustainable land management, we devised and won funding for a scheme called FARM Partnership—the letters of “FARM” standing for “facilitating action for risk management”. FARM Partnership perished in the “mother of all Budgets” the next year, but what remained has endured—the reorientation of the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry from an organisation that existed to try to make two sheep graze where but one had grazed before to an organisation whose mission is to promote sustainability, where the three pillars of environmental, social, and economic sustainability are seen as interdependent and of equal importance. The Sustainable Farming Fund, established post-1999, has given wings to another ingredient of sustainable agriculture—the energy and innovative impulse of our rural communities. I am continuously amazed by the quality of Sustainable Farming Fund - assisted projects, and suspect the scheme will enjoy a long life.

This time round we have at last done justice to producer board reform. It has been successful because the Government reached agreed positions with the stakeholders in each sector. Undoubtedly, the jewel in the crown is Fonterra. I confess now to having been a sceptic with regard to the one-company model, but was persuaded by cunning regulation that disincentivised any unfair manipulation of milk and share prices by the dominant company. Anyway, even if Fonterra does not work in theory, it is hard to argue with success in practice. Initially the 13th biggest dairy company in the world, Fonterra is now the world’s third or fourth largest, with the vision and the momentum to become New Zealand’s Nokia.

Other highlights of my tenure in rural portfolios have been the ongoing strengthening of biosecurity, food safety, and animal welfare. All these, of course, are important in their own right, but doubly so because of market risks that threaten the living standards of every citizen, whether or not they know it. A personal highlight was, as New Zealand’s Minister of Agriculture, to be honoured to be elected to the chair of the biennial conference of the Food and Agriculture Organization in Rome. The last New Zealander in that role had been Keith Holyoake in the 1950s. Rome is a beautiful city in a beautiful country. That organisation is an unwieldy bureaucracy but nevertheless it is trying to operationalise an important part of the United Nations vision.

My other major portfolio, which steadily increased in size until it demanded almost a full-time commitment, was that of trade negotiations. I had not anticipated getting trade negotiations. Nothing in my parliamentary experience had prepared me for it. I had expected to be typecast, as usual, in a suite of primary industry portfolios—excluding, of course, forestry, from which I had withdrawn because I could not support my party’s policy of ruling out production from any part of the extensive Crown beech forest estate. What I did not realise until later was that Helen Clark was being vigorously lobbied by suburban greenies not to allow “that Sutton” anywhere near the fisheries portfolio. They said I was too close to industry. I am willing to accept contributions of blue cod.

So I was somewhat surprised when about a month before polling day in 1999 Helen said: “Jim, you’d better have your bag packed on election night.”—my God, I thought, there has been a bad poll in South Canterbury—“It may take weeks to form a Government, so I have agreed with Jenny that you and Lockwood Smith will both go to the World Trade Organization conference in Seattle.” And so it was. I have been to Seattle, Doha, Cancun, Geneva, Hong Kong, all the APEC conferences, bilateral and regional free-trade agreement and closer economic partnership negotiations, and many trade promotion missions, mostly accompanied by the indefatigable Jeremy Spanjaard.

To me, the greatest challenge and the greatest opportunity has been China. I am not certain, but I think I have visited China as an MP or a Minister 16 times. Chinese outnumber New Zealanders by roughly 325 to 1. China is demonstrating the world’s most spectacular economic growth. Within the lifetime of most current New Zealand MPs, China will become the world’s biggest economy. It has 21 percent of the planet’s people but only 7 percent of its arable soil. We, on the other hand, have almost no people and a third of the world’s internationally traded dairy produce. China and New Zealand are economic partners made in heaven. We get along famously well. It has given me the greatest satisfaction to be able to contribute to this growing relationship.

For those on the back benches, whether in Government or in Opposition, job satisfaction is thinner on the ground. The situation is better under MMP simply because the dominant party will never let any more small parties into coalition, sharing chairs around the Cabinet table, than it has to. So most select committees are finely balanced. If members on either side of the House wish to contribute anything constructive—and almost all do—they need to start doing deals. I very much enjoyed my time on the Primary Production Committee chaired by Eric Roy, or by me when he was absent. Eric and I were able to forge a bipartisan consensus on almost anything, not infrequently over a feed of fresh-baked muffins from the New Zealand First MP Robyn McDonald. Of course, not everything was of earthshaking importance. I recall the passion of witnesses defending their sacrosanct right to amputate the tails of their puppy dogs. Without their advocacy, there can be little doubt that our suburbs would by now be ankle deep in the shards of valuable vases, swept off coffee tables by the colossal tails of undocked Labradors.

My time on the Finance and Expenditure Committee was a joy. In Opposition, Bill Birch and Michael Cox each described himself as National’s spokesman on finance. Trevor de Cleene, as chair, would play them off against each other whenever he could, which was at least once a week. The Goods and Services Tax Bill was an absolute highlight. Later, when I had taken over his chair, the Reserve Bank of New Zealand Bill was another highlight. The world’s most eminent macroeconomists lined up to provide for the committee an incredible tutorial on monetary policy. It was an opportunity for New Zealand to be at the absolute cutting edge, and a privilege and a joy to be part of it.

Another select committee experience was the Māori Affairs Committee, hearing submissions on the Ngāi Tahu Claims Settlement Bill. It was not rocket science, but the emotional intensity was white-hot throughout. One witness collapsed and died while giving evidence, despite the best CPR efforts of those present.

I have wonderful memories of my time here. I think of Lange, Palmer, Douglas, Prebble, Mike Moore, and Muldoon—each somewhat larger than life in the roles they played. Jim Bolger, whom I underestimated for a long time, continues to make a huge and valuable contribution. I think of Annette, who is as a sister to me, and Sonja, who shamed me into ironing my own shirts. I also think of Bill Dillon, who helped me to organise a still notorious party that started in the Doidge room and ended up, at 6 in the morning, in the Beehive swimming pool. If Jenny Shipley should happen to be listening—which I doubt—I can assure her now that it was not true that Larry Sutherland was wearing her bathing togs, as she had heard and complained about to our chief whip, Margaret Austin.

There were too many others, of course, to mention. I think of all the brilliant and dedicated public servants with whom I have been privileged to work. I acknowledge all of those who help us in and around this place: drivers, security staff, messengers, Bellamy’s, cleaners, the Parliamentary Counsel Office, and many, many more. I think of the wonderful, loyal, selfless people who have helped me and who stand behind every constituency candidate. In Timaru I had a committee called “The Last of the Summer Wine”. To name some would mean omitting others, which would be unfair. My own office staff in Wellington, in Ōāmaru, and in Timaru have been fabulous. Again, after so many years, I cannot mention some—even those nearest and dearest who are now friends for life—without unfairly and arbitrarily omitting others.

And finally, family. Public life is often a selfish business. It is often all-consuming. Those closest to public figures often pay a high, unfair price. To those I have hurt, I say sorry. To those who follow me here, I say to try to do better than I did in that respect. And I hope you all have as much fun and enjoy as much job satisfaction as I have had. It is a great honour to serve the Parliament of the people.

Sitting suspended from 5.51 p.m. to 7.30 p.m.