Maiden Statements

E ngā mana, e ngā reo, e ngā rangatira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa. Good afternoon, satsriakal, ni hao, talofa, salaam alaikum, ahn nyung ha se yo. I stand before the House today full of gratitude to the hundreds of passionate volunteers who worked so hard for National in the last election, and, of course, those voters the length and breadth of New Zealand who gave the National Party such an overwhelming mandate and allowed me to enter Parliament from the party list. Thank you.

Since putting my toe in the political waters, many have offered me advice, encouragement, and support. In particular, I wish to acknowledge Mel McDonald, Simon O’Connor, Greg Mulholland, Kit Parkinson, Chris Mullane, Mike Gudsell, and members of the “Pride of the Union” who were there when most needed.

Politics plays havoc with family life. I wish to thank my family and especially my wife, Jenny, and daughters, Leisha and Carla, for their love, understanding, and support in the face of the inevitable disruption my involvement has brought.

On my lapel I wear the silver fern. Every day it reminds me of our country and the privilege and responsibilities I have in serving as a member of Parliament. I came to politics relatively recently, in 2003, because I was concerned at the state of the New Zealand my children would inherit. I want New Zealand to be able to offer my children as much opportunity as it has offered me. I am a proud New Zealander, ambitious for our country, and wish to contribute to a National-led Government that will allow New Zealand to achieve its full potential and offer a future to my children and, indeed, all New Zealanders, a Government of a country where our young people are inspired, share a sense of purpose and a feeling of belonging, and are drenched with exhilaration at the possibilities and opportunities open to them with hard work and commitment.

New Zealand is facing economic challenges on the world stage of unparalleled complexity and fluidity. As well as a fiscal crisis, we have a crisis of confidence. Globally, no one knows how deep the hole is. I feel privileged to serve in John Key’s National-led Government, a Government that is principled, pragmatic, and inclusive, and that is seeking to cushion New Zealand from the worst effects of the financial turmoil; a Government that is a champion of individual freedom and choice, that celebrates excellence, and that rewards achievement; and a Government that, recognising that our society is judged by how we treat our most vulnerable, is working with local government and the third sector such as non-governmental organisations and voluntary and charitable organisations seeking to strengthen families and communities. I am exhilarated to rejoin the team and to work towards these ends. I hope my sojourn this time lasts a little longer than my first one.

My forebears left Scotland and arrived in Dunedin in 1849. I grew up in New Plymouth. By inclination and personal experience I am a compassionate conservative. My father, Gordon, died when I was 6 years old. I was brought up by my mother, Dorothy. She received a widow’s benefit. In my mind’s eye, I can still see her working at her old treadle sewing machine making me pairs of shorts to wear to school. Many of my other clothes were those other kids in the neighbourhood had grown out of. My mother’s example taught me the value of hard work and personal responsibility. She encouraged me to dream my dreams and to reach for the stars. Dorothy emphasised that, with determination, whatever goal one sets one’s heart on can, within reason, be achieved. Above all, however, she always encouraged me to do my best, and if at first I did not succeed, to try, try again—advice that has come in handy many times since. Although it was a struggle financially, I never felt hard done by or disadvantaged—though I drew the line at eating tripe a second time. I never felt hard done by, because I always felt loved by my mother; my brothers, Rob and Don; and my sister, Julie.

My experience means I can empathise with the many in single-parent families in New Zealand today. The majority of single mums and dads do a wonderful job raising their children, but a disturbingly large number of children are raised not in a loving home but in a love-free zone. Please let me share a story with you. Whilst campaigning in Manurewa during the 2008 election I gave a lift to a hitchhiker, a large, heavily tattooed Māori gentleman—a local resident, and, as it later transpired, an ex-member of a well-known nationwide gang. Arriving at our destination, I asked him for his thoughts on how New Zealand might reduce the growing numbers of the unloved. He talked about his community and about his experiences growing up: the death of his father, an alcoholic mother, a succession of stepdads, alcoholism, violence meted out and received, gang membership, crime, prison, and now, battling with this legacy, attempting to remain outside the boob. He had no answers. By the end of his story he was in tears, and I was close to it myself. His story is tragic. However, the real tragedy is that it is a tale all too common to thousands of young and not-so-young New Zealanders.

Our people are our greatest resource. Our society is judged by how we treat our most vulnerable. A Government cannot legislate aroha; a Government cannot legislate love. One of our greatest challenges this term—and there are many—is to address the problem of protecting the vulnerable without encouraging the dependent behaviour that has been shown to have such harmful effects on our youth and New Zealand society. I believe in a compassionate welfare system—a safety net, however, not a drift net. There are no simple, easy answers, and one has to avoid silo thinking, but there is no doubt that, with the involvement of national government, local government, the third sector, and, crucially, the political will, the mesh can be reshaped and gains can be made.

As I mentioned earlier, I have fond memories of my childhood growing up in Taranaki. The education I received at Westown School and New Plymouth Boys’ High School gave me a solid grounding and allowed me to proceed to further study at Otago University. After post-graduate study in Australia, I set off from Melbourne with a pack on my back. I took a boat from Perth to Singapore, and travelled overland from Singapore to London, meeting folk of startlingly diverse backgrounds along the way. Despite their differences it was apparent, even to a callow Kiwi boy, how many needs and aspirations were shared by, and common to, the disparate groups and ethnicities. After a 6-month journey, and down to my last US$20, I made it to England.

Eventually I bought a dental practice, and whilst running the practice took a degree in medicine from Cambridge University—motto: “Hinc lucem et pocula sacra”; the literal translation: “From here, light and sacred draughts”. During my student days at Cambridge, the preferred sacred draught, consumed at times in alarming quantities, was Greene King India Pale Ale. However, the non-literal translation of the Cambridge motto is apposite, and in an ideal world it would be true of any educational establishment: “From this place we gain enlightenment and precious knowledge”.

A world-class education system is fundamental to New Zealand nurturing our people and arresting our currently declining standard of living and place in the OECD. National is spending nearly $1.7 billion on education, including new spending on early childhood education and helping students meet national standards in literacy and numeracy. We have much to do.

During the last 6 years I was privileged to be chosen as National’s candidate in Manurewa. I spent 6 months walking the streets of the electorate. My trusty RMs took a pounding, and I had to get them resoled. I relished the campaign and the opportunity to listen to the members of the colourful, vibrant, diverse Manurewa community—a microcosm of wider New Zealand society. I listened to the community gatekeepers—the mayor, the church leaders, the sports clubs, hundreds of small-business owners, and thousands of residents. I listened to Pat, who was concerned about graffiti on her fence; Warren, 14, who wanted a panel-beating apprenticeship; Sanjay, a small-business owner who was concerned about tax cuts and cutting red tape; Elsie, 80 years old, who was concerned about her personal safety; and Gary, a lifelong union activist, who was alarmed by what he saw as the decline of standards in New Zealand and the lack of accessibility to world-class health care for all. These concerns were remarkably similar to those voiced by folk who live in Epsom, on the North Shore, in Thorndon in Wellington, Fendalton in Christchurch, or Māori Hill in Dunedin.

As I said during the campaign, National is not perfect. We do not have a magic wand and we cannot change things overnight, but John Key’s National-led Government, working with our support parties, is listening to the voice of New Zealand and is working to address these crucial areas of education, health, and personal security, as well as the many other challenges the current global situation has thrown up. The straitened financial times we are living in means another huge priority is addressing the concerns of small businesses and aiding their ability to grow the economic cake—the cake that ultimately underpins our nation’s well-being and ability to recover from the current recession.

If I may plant a few seeds with this speech, from my background in medicine I believe that it is essential that New Zealanders are given the tools to take responsibility for their own health. As Professor Beaglehole observed recently, the key to prevention is to make healthy choices the default option. It is gratifying to learn that smoking is no longer seen as cool among many young people, but the ravages of smoking and alcohol abuse cost thousands of New Zealanders their lives each year. There is room for simple, low-cost, light-touch interventions here. More of us exercising more often and eating more wisely will improve our nation’s health markedly. An education programme similar to the one in France, which nudges people in a healthy direction whilst eschewing the wagging finger of a nanny State, could be instituted at minimal cost.

The Kiwi male is renowned for considering himself indestructible—he is not. I have a couple of friends who are alive today because a simple blood test, the prostate-specific antigen, or PSA, alerted them to the possibility that further investigation of their prostate may be indicated. I wonder how many men would like to know, year after year, with a simple test, that everything is normal, that their prostate is within the normal range, rather than to find out in a one-off test, too late, that it was three to four times the norm. Let us promote the “man-o-gram” for blokes.

I am a keen fisherman. I would like my children’s children to be able to take home a feed as easily as I can today—if not more easily. I have discussed the concept of a series of marine reserves with the Minister of Conservation and caucus colleagues, and have been gratified with their response. Finally, we all recognise that quality of life is not just a matter of economic success, though economic success is fundamental to our well-being. As well as measuring our GDP, therefore, let us make New Zealand the first country in the world to measure our quality of life with a GPI, a genuine progress indicator—that is, a comprehensive assessment of the total well-being of a community, including social, cultural, and environmental aspects, and the economy.

Last year Nicolas Sarkozy issued the rallying cry: “Ensemble, tout devient possible.”—“Together, all becomes possible.” He won the presidency of France. Since the last election in New Zealand, it has not been politics as usual. Some were surprised when John Key reached out across the political spectrum to the Māori Party, to ACT, to United Future, and to the Greens. I was not surprised, because that is how our leader and this party have been thinking. We are all in this together. The best politics is good government. John Key’s National-led Government has bid adieu to the politics of bitterness and divisiveness, and has invited our support parties from elsewhere in the House to help paddle New Zealand’s waka. Though the waters are turbulent, the waka is on course and is moving steadily in the right direction. Together, all becomes possible. Mr Speaker, I am honoured to serve all New Zealanders in this, the forty-ninth Parliament of New Zealand, and thank you for the opportunity to deliver my maiden speech. Kia kaha. Cruachan. Thank you.