Today when I went to do the weekly shop at my local supermarket, volunteers were outside collecting for Daffodil Day. So I donated some spare change. It wasn’t much, but it made me think.

Our economy is perverse. A charity like the Cancer Society must put a huge amount of effort into securing funding and donations to do its work supporting those who suffer from cancer and advocating for its prevention.1

But meanwhile the activities that cause cancer continue unabated. They are not only permitted in our political economy, they are rewarded, in the form of huge and ever-growing profits, and subsidies from society, which pays for the immense harm caused by these industries and their products. This is all enabled by government through its permissive regulatory settings.

Cancer is a disease commonly believed to be preventable. According to the research, only 5–10% of all cancer cases can be attributed to genetic defects; the remaining 90–95% have their roots in the environment and lifestyle.

These environmental and lifestyle causes include:

· Smoking: Smoking and second-hand smoke are the single largest preventable cause of cancer and cancer deaths worldwide, responsible for about 30% of all cancer deaths.

· Unhealthy diets: Diets high in processed meats, red meat, and ultra-processed foods are heavily linked to digestive and colorectal cancers.

· Obesity and excess weight: Carrying excess body fat causes chronic inflammation and hormonal changes linked to at least 10 different types of cancer.

· Sedentary lifestyles: even where excess weight is not the result, physical inactivity can lead to metabolic and hormonal imbalances that lead to cancer.

· Alcohol consumption: Regular or heavy drinking damages cell DNA and raises the risk of breast, liver, bowel, and throat cancers.

· Environmental pollution: the link between exposure to toxic airborne pollutants, hazardous industrial chemicals and cancer is well-established while the evidence connecting microplastics in our environment and exposure to nitrates in drinking water and cancer is growing.

But our political economy rewards the corporations that sell and embed the products that cause cancer. The largest tobacco company operating in the New Zealand market, British American Tobacco, reported a net profit after tax of $45.6 million for the last financial year. Globally big tobacco rakes in tens of billions in profit.

Alcohol consumption is strongly linked to a range of cancers and an immense amount of social harm yet the regularly environment is highly permissive when it comes to the sale of alcohol and the opening of new outlets, even where there is considerable community opposition. Of course alcohol consumption is leads to increased incidence of car crashes, domestic violence, assaults, and self-harm, which society also pays for.

Ultra-processed foods now make up between about 70% and 85% of packaged foods found on typical supermarket shelves. There are no laws to prevent or regulate the sale of these foods despite what is known about their harms (which include – but not limited to – cancers, obesity and heart disease). Due to their relatively low-cost ingredients and long shelf life and aided by aggressive marketing, ultra-processed foods are much more profitable than whole or fresh food products. Global sales for ultra-processed products have now reached an estimated $1.9 trillion.

But what about sedentary lifestyles? Surely that is personal choice and industry cannot be blamed for that? Well, maybe. But since the beginning of last century, the car manufacturing and oil industries have waged a sustained and highly successful campaign to get people out of public transport and into private cars. (Watch this informative and entertaining Climate Town video on this history.) Today many of us only undertake any significant physical activity when we hop in our cars to go to the gym a couple of times a week (and feel guilty about not going on the other days). Other labour-saving devices sold to us at great profit ensure that we do not have to even stand up to undertake everyday household tasks.

When I talk about a wellbeing-centred economy, a common reaction is “That all sounds very nice, but we just can’t afford it.” Wrong. What we can’t afford as a society is to continue to pay for the escalating and compounding harms which our political economy allows industry to perpetrate on society. (Think climate change.) Imagine if the cost of harm fell on those that perpetrated it, rather than society. This would create a huge incentive on industry to reduce the harm (because it would cost them not to do so), while also reducing the cost to society of dealing with the harm – particularly through the public healthcare system, but also emergency and other services. It would cost much, much less – particularly as the legacy effects of damaging activities abate over time.

So by all means, let’s donate to the Cancer Society to do its incredibly important work, but let’s also put pressure on the government to reset the political economy so that these highly damaging activities are disincentivised, not rewarded.

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I was watching the TV1 news last night – purely for anthropological research purposes, as I often explain to my friends – and noted with interest the story on surging beef mince prices. Mince is now selling for as much as $24 – that’s 23% higher than a year ago. This, for a meat that New Zealanders have long considered “budget”.

Skyrocketing prices has been driven by high global demand for New Zealand’s beef products – primarily by demand out of the US. But infuriatingly – as is common with the media treatment of these stories – there was no attempt to probe more deeply into the underlying causes. Instead they opted for a cute sidebar story on the fate of the humble mince pie, that crucial Kiwi staple. (Because, despite evidence to the contrary, we are all still living in the 1970s.)

So down the rabbit hole I go. Though not that far, as it turns out. Because the underlying causes are easily discovered.

Indeed, the high global demand is driven by US – and to a lesser extent, Chinese – demand. The US is the biggest consumer of beef products overall, accounting for 22% of global consumption. So, that being the case, why is the US not producing more meat to satisfy domestic demand?

There are a number of factors (increased input costs and a depleting work force among them), but the biggest is prolonged drought.

Years of extremely dry weather have depleted grasslands and water supplies across the US West and Plains, leaving ranchers without enough feed or water to sustain their herds. Many have been forced to sell cattle early, including cows needed to produce the next generation of calves, meaning that a rebound to previous stock numbers will take much longer – even if conditions improve. As a result, the US cattle herd is now at its smallest in about 75 years – despite much higher levels of consumption.

Of course drought has always happened, and cannot solely be attributed to climate change. But back in 2022, climate scientists established through climate attribution that human-caused climate change is responsible for roughly 40% of the unusual intensity of prolonged droughts in the American West and Central Plains. In fact, they found that the last 22 years have been the driest in at least the last 1,200 years.

US consumer’s insatiable demand for beef has held steady, despite the soaring prices. Rather than explore alternatives, instead the US has turned to the global market to satisfy demand, and we are – literally – paying the price. So not only does this show that US demand for beef is “inelastic” – i.e., tolerant of increased prices – it also suggests that food security is not a major concern.

This is of course an attitude that we share with the US. As I have written about before, successive government have failed to recognise food security as an issue. Unlike the UK for example, New Zealand has never undertaken a food security assessment, or developed a food security assessment. Instead we are reassured by our own industry hype that “we feed 40 million people” with the food we produce (though mysteriously, no one seems to know where that figure came from). Surely, if we can feed 40 million people, we can feed ourselves?

Well no, it seems not. As I outlined in my recent address to the Reality of Everything Symposium, despite overall abundance at a national level, many households in New Zealand experience food insecurity due to affordability and access issues, disproportionately affecting Māori and Pasifika families. We know that one in five children regularly experience food insecurity. (Read transcript here.)

My talk also makes the following points:

New Zealand’s apparent food abundance masks significant vulnerabilities. Although our country produces more food than it consumes, it remains heavily dependent on imports for staple foods such as cereals and plant proteins, leaving it exposed to climate, trade and geopolitical disruptions.

Food production depends on fragile global supply chains. Industrial agriculture relies on imported fuel, fertiliser, machinery and agricultural chemicals, meaning disruptions to international trade could significantly reduce New Zealand’s capacity to produce, process and distribute food.

The dominant model of food production carries high environmental costs. Livestock production, which occupies 90% of all New Zealand’s productive land, requires substantially more land, energy and water than plant-based foods, while contributing disproportionately to greenhouse gas emissions, biodiversity loss and water pollution.

Diversifying food production would strengthen resilience and deliver multiple benefits. Expanding production of cereals, legumes and other plant foods, protecting highly productive soils and supporting local food systems could improve food security while reducing environmental impacts and improving public health.

And at a household level, there are things we can do to reduce our exposure to escalating meat prices. As many New Zealanders already do, we can include more non-animal proteins into our diet, without compromising flavour, while also boosting healthfulness, as Professor Alistair Woodward outlined in his expert talk to the Symposium.

Previously I have sung the praises of lentils, which, prepared well, are a delicious and nutritious substitute for beef mince. In this post, I shared my recipe for plant-based spaghetti bolognese, and lentils can be used to make a fantastic shepherd’s pie (I will share that one at a later date).

But I have also talked about the need to diversify away from predominantly export-oriented, low-value animal proteins. This makes sense from a food security, but also an economic resilience, perspective, as fellow presenter, Hillmarè Schulze set out in her symposium address on Trade in an unstable future.

Finally, this is yet another example of the reality that all the problems we are facing are interconnected. Despite the habit of many politicians - aided and abetted by the media, economists and other analysts - to separate issues out as if they are independent of each other, and using public sentiment to justify action or inaction, the cost of living crisis is - ultimately - a climate issue.

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In many of my posts I have spoken in general terms about what I would like our government to do. So here I have drawn up what I am calling a ‘reverse manifesto’. (Definition: A bottom-up platform or document created by citizens or civil society outlining issues that the government must address and proposing policies in broad terms).

I would love to say I have been ruminating on this, pen in hand for days. I haven’t. I got up and wrote it this morning. (And I hasten to note, AI was not utilised in the creation of this manifesto, as you can probably tell!)

So I share with a list of caveats as long as your arm. There will be gaps and oversights – some no doubt glaring. There will be things that I haven’t got quite right. (I have a reasonable understanding of some spheres such as transport, urban development, food security and resource management but far less knowledge of areas such as public health, Te Tiriti and poverty). To provide some structure, I have organised the ideas under headings; but the reality is that many of these spheres overlap and the categories are not distinct.

So here is my Reverse Manifesto: actions that I want to our new government to take in the immediate term and the medium term (note, I have not included ‘long term’ because I don’t we have the luxury of waiting for any of this).

I would love your input: your suggestions for additional manifesto actions, better ones, critique of one that you think don’t work etc. I will then update the manifesto and reissue it, hopefully with much fanfare!

A Reverse Manifesto for Our New Government 2026

Immediate actions

Housing and poverty

• Repeal the move-on orders and work with non-government organisations supporting people and households to identify what immediate solutions the government needs to invest in to eliminate housing deprivation and poverty (including funding these organisations to support the individuals, households and communities they work with).

• Halt all sales of social housing. Review, reinitiate and expand Kainga Ora social housing development projects. Partner with community housing and other providers to do the same. Ensure all developments meet basic liveability standards – ie they are close to amenities, green space, safe active transport and efficient public transport.

• Reinstate locally sourced, quality lunches in schools, supporting local growers, businesses and employment.

  

Environment

• Repeal the Fast-track Approvals Act.

• Repeal all regressive changes to the Conservation Act.

• Introduce Right to repair legislation, alongside law that prohibits the import or manufacture of products with designed-in obsolescence.

• Amend the Planning Act and Natural Environmental Act to: create a coherent overarching purpose and hierarchy of goals; reintroduce Mana whakahone ā rohe agreements; require decision-makers to consider climate change in all resource management decisions; and remove all requirement to compensate landowners for protecting significant natural areas, wetlands etc. (Instead, introduce central government support for protecting and restoring these areas.)

Local government

• Halt the ideologically driven local government amalgamation process, instead initiating an evidence-based process to identify the problem(s) and the desired outcome, options and the costs and benefits of amalgamation (otherwise known as a ‘proper policy process’).

• Formulate policy on how to properly fund local government functions, including climate adaptation and resilience.

• Introduce legislation to give local government constitutional protection.

Climate change

• Reinstate high emissions standards for the vehicle fleet.

• Reinstate a tax or surcharge to disincentivise the purchase and use of utility vehicles in settings where they are unnecessary and create harm, and allocate these funds to incentives to support better urban design, public transport and active transport infrastructure.

• Halt and undertake a review of all major new roads projects (where possible without significant contractual penalties). Redeploy spending to public and active transport and the maintenance of existing transport infrastrucutre.

• Remove all incentives and regulatory support for greenfield development. Strengthen direction for compact and liveable urban development.

Public health

• Conduct a rapid review of all critical risks and gaps in public health resourcing (including staff and infrastructure) and set out a 3 year plan to address.

• Cost subsidised dental health provision for adults (comparing to system-wide costs of status quo).

• Reinstate Smoke Free Aotearoa (2030?) and all associated funding.

• Repeal legislative changes making it easier to obtain liquor licenses for new liquor outlets.

• Investigate regulation and/or taxes on ultra-processed and sugar foods and drink.

Food system

• Protect highly productive soils through clear central government direction to be implemented through district and regional plans and consenting.

• Develop a national food security assessment.

• Establish government fund to purchase food processing plants from corporations exiting the market and support establishment of grower-led cooperatives.

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Energy

• Halt the building of a LPG import facility.

• Introduce requirements for energy gentailers to support energy efficiency, banning all advertising and campaigns to encourage consumers to use more than they need.

• Ramp up all communication on initiatives to support the efficient use of energy – electricity, gas and liquid fuels.

• Set date for phasing out for use of natural gas in homes, and establish subsidy to support conversion to electricity.

Other

• Repeal the Regulatory Standards Act.

Medium term:

Te Tiriti

• In partnership with iwi leaders and Matike Mai Aotearoa, determine best means to give te Tiriti constitutional status and prevent the erosion of its status through regressive law changes.

Economy

• Redesign the tax system to ensure that the wealthy are paying their fair share and no one benefits from tax-free income from their assets (eg land).

• Overhaul the Public Finance Act, making long-term economic governance (not narrow ‘fiscal responsibility’ metrics) the central purpose.

• Work with the public policy experts, researchers and NGOs to develop durable solutions to eradicate poverty in New Zealand.

Public health

• Initiate system-wide programme to identify how to reduce health problems at source: eg, diet (predominance of ultra processed foods), increasingly sedentary lifestyles, substance addiction, environmental pollution, poor dental hygiene/care, poor housing, poverty and loneliness.

• Develop a 5-year cross-government mega strategy to tackle these issues through investment and regulation.

Energy

• Investigate fully renationalising energy generation and retail.

• Develop an energy strategy with sufficiency and reduced reliance on imported fossil fuels as its purpose, with energy conservation as a central goal.

• Investigate the introduction of Tradeable Energy Quotas or equivalent system.

Climate mitigation

• Fix the Emissions Trading Scheme so that it covers all high-emissions sectors, it is effective in dramatically reducing emissions, and is transparent. If this is not possible, scrap and introduce a carbon tax or alternative system.

Transport

• Halt the multi-billion dollar subsidy of heavy trucking by revising road user charges to reflect true costs to climate, society and the environment.

• Increase investment in rail, including electrification and inter-regional passenger rail.

• Re-invest in coastal shipping as alternative to road freight.

Environment/climate adaptation

• Protect and restore all wetlands that are restorable, training and employing young and under-employed to do this work.

• Investigate managed retreat along river corridors, allowing rivers space to use their flood plains.

• Make it mandatory for all urban developments to incorporate nature-based solutions to increase resilience and reduce natural hazard risk.

• Ramp up pest control in indigenous forests and other habitats: employ young people and under-employed to undertake pest control work across all conservation estate and regional parks. Investigate ways that culled animals can be utilised as far as possible (eg pigs and deer for meat, possums for fibre). Train young/underemployed people in relevant skills.

So there it is, all before lunchtime! What do you think? What have I missed? What have I got wrong? Would love to hear from you in the comments.

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In June 2025, I stood in front of a group of mayors of the region and their stand-ins, and dared suggest that public policy - and transport investment in particular - should be for the public good. For example, I brazenly suggested that the premature death of 2-3000 New Zealanders every year from air pollution – mainly from diesel-fuelled trucks – should be a consideration when making investment decisions and prioritising projects.

Expecting this to be accepted as a statement of the obvious, I was astounded when I was subjected to a pile-on, with an outspoken few seeking to outdo each other with defiant statements of parochialism, self-interest and anti-wokeism. One mayor fixed me with his gaze and declared “I keep my yard clean. I don’t care about what state of the environment is beyond my gates!” To which he was greeted with nods and grunts of approval from the other male politicians in the room.

I think much of this was performative, a competition between like-minded men who enjoyed the “sport” of attacking an official, who they knew could not argue back without risking losing their job. But it also left me in shock, realising first hand that this gamesmanship is just as much part of our political landscape today as genuine policymaking.

Lifting the gaze to the big round building across town in Wellington, this sort of parochialism, self-interest and gamesmanship are the dominant forces shaping politics. I am sure there must be many politicians who come into politics wanting to create a better New Zealand – whatever that means to them. But these are not the people steering the ship at the moment. When it comes to the most powerful politicians in New Zealand today, it seems their main objective is to stay in power, whatever that takes.

And that “whatever” is, for example, taking policy advice from industry stakeholders and lobby groups to amend law (eg, the legislation to prevent citizens taking tort cases against climate polluters, and last week’s removal of council agreements to work with mana whenua from the resource management legislation, at the behest of the taxpayers union). Other examples of roll-backs of legislation or initiatives at the behest of industry lobbying abound, but include the slashing of vehicle emissions standards, the repeal of smoke-free legislation and deregulation of alcohol licencing.

Even if politicians aren’t fully comfortable with what they are being asked to do at the behest of industry or powerful lobby groups, they know it is in their interest to fall in behind, because doing so secures generous political donations, which will help keep them and their parties in power. This is now the reality of the political landscape in New Zealand. And you can bet that in most of these cases there were officials, like me, valiantly trying to urge for the public good behind the scenes - often at their personal or professional cost.

So it is comforting to be reading Mariana Mazzucato’s latest book The Common Good Economy and recognising that while I might have been fighting a losing battle with that particular group of politicians, I am in good company proposing that policy – and indeed politics – should, first and foremost, be about the public good.

In fact, Mazzucato suggests that as an idea “public good” is the poor cousin of the stronger notion of “common good”. The idea that the primary purpose of government is to provide for the wellbeing and flourishing of its people has been around since the days of the Greek philosphers, including Plato and Aristotle (known as eudaimonia). More recently, UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres and Pope Francis have advocated for economic and governance systems focused on the common good.

But sadly, it feels like our current government and indeed many that have gone before is more Hobbesian in inspiration than Aristotelian. 17^th century philosopher Thomas Hobbes argued that the state’s primary purpose is to protect individuals’ ability to pursue their personal interests. So he may well have approved of this government’s gutting of environmental protections from its proposed resource management law, in favour of “enjoyment” of private property rights, and ultimately the unabashed indulgence of self interest at the cost of the common good.

But we have an election coming up, and as citizens it is up to us whether we want a more Hobbes or Aristotle-inspired government.

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This week was a huge week for “the Reality of Everything”, with the videos of expert briefings, along with transcripts and key points all being released on the Reality of Everything website. Below is the media release that heralded this major milestone.

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Expert briefings aim to reshape New Zealand’s election conversation about the future

As New Zealand heads towards a pivotal general election, organisers of the recent Reality of Everything Symposium are urging New Zealanders to engage with the defining challenge of our time: the planetary polycrisis. They say that without a much broader public and political understanding of the interconnected crises shaping our present and future, meaningful action will fall short of what is urgently needed.

Organisers of the sold-out symposium have now made recordings of expert briefings, along with transcripts and key points, freely available online, with the aim of shifting the national conversation towards the interconnected challenges that will shape our nation’s future. The recordings represent New Zealand’s first freely accessible, cross-disciplinary briefing series on the polycrisis, covering climate change, biodiversity collapse, Te Tiriti issues, energy realities, food security, public health, trade, insurance retreat and public finance.

The symposium attracted strong public interest, with in-person tickets selling out within two months of being announced and hundreds more participating via livestream.

Now there is recognition from the political sphere that these interconnected crises require urgent attention. Symposium organisers have been invited to present a “mini symposium” at Parliament covering food security, trade and public finance. “It is heartening that this invitation came from parliamentarians on the political left and right, unified in their concern about the emerging polycrisis and its implications for the wellbeing and livelihoods of New Zealanders”, Knight notes.

Organisers have also been inundated by requests to present Reality of Everything events around New Zealand. “It is really hard to keep up with the demand, but we are doing our utmost to respond to every request,” Knight says.

Organisers believe that the intense public and political interest reflects a growing recognition that many of the challenges affecting everyday life in New Zealand cannot be understood in isolation.

“People are experiencing rising insurance costs, increasing food prices, pressure on health services, extreme weather events and growing international instability. These are often discussed as separate issues, but they are profoundly interconnected.”

“Unless we understand the whole system, we risk treating symptoms rather than causes.”

With the November 2026 election approaching, organisers believe the recordings provide an opportunity for the media, policymakers, business and community leaders and citizens to engage with the evidence that is often missing from political and media commentary. Organisers are calling for the recordings to be widely shared through workplaces, government, schools and universities, community organisations and professional networks to help build awareness across society.

Knight says, “Democracies function better and produce better decisions when citizens are well informed, and we hope these resources will help foster a richer national conversation about the future we want to create.”

“The lead up to the election provides an opportunity to have a more informed conversation about the realities we face and the choices ahead.”

The recordings, transcripts and key points are available for free on the Reality of Everything website.

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The Opportunity Party is proposing a Land Value Tax of 1.75%, arguing that this will make the tax system fairer, and will discourage land-banking and excessive property speculation. This idea has a proud heritage, one that intersects with New Zealand’s own economic history. And some scholars even argue that it was in response to the threat presented by Henry George’s original proposal for a land tax that the neoclassical school of economics was established, redefining land as just another form of capital, allowing its advocates (and their wealthy backers) to argue that income from land was a legitimate return on ‘capital’ rather than unearned. And their argument has prevailed ever since.

I traverse this fascinating legacy in my book An Uncommon Land, and thought I would take the opportunity to share an excerpt from the book.

Henry George and the Single Land Tax

While the idea of commons did not survive the journey to New Zealand, a closely related idea did make it to our shores and even found its way into legislation – for a time. That idea was the single land tax, developed and energetically advocated by American political economist and journalist Henry George. In his book Progress and Poverty, published in 1879, George famously declared: ‘We must make land common property.’ This is not to be confused with a communist agenda to nationalise land; rather, it is a recognition that land is a common inheritance, and that free access to land is a right of all people and not a commodity to be monopolised by the wealthy. In this sense, George’s views aligned strongly with those of English political economist John Stuart Mill (1806–73) whose ideas had strong currency among some in New Zealand, even beyond his death. Mill argued that land was ‘a thing that no man made, which exists in limited quantity, which was the original inheritance of mankind, and which whoever appropriates, keeps others out of possession’.

But both George and Mill drew their ideas from a much earlier thinker: one of the original physiocrats (an 18th-century group of French economists who believed that agriculture was the source of all wealth), Francois Quesnay, who rose from humble beginnings to become physician to French king Louis XV in the mid-1700s. Quesnay used his knowledge of the human system to help explain the economic system. As an analogy to blood coursing through the human body, Quesnay saw agriculture as the lifeblood of the economy. It was only through agricultural surplus that other economic activities were enabled, such as the products made by artisans and sold by merchants.

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As such, in Quesnay’s ground-breaking tableau économique (1758) – an economic model laying the foundations of the physiocratic school of economics – only the farmers and agricultural labourers were considered as the ‘productive class’. Quesnay, along with the other physiocrats, advocated for a tax on land that would redistribute the wealth from the landlords to the rest of society, and especially to the tenant farmers. For example, just as it is argued today, land taxes could be used to invest in infrastructures, such as wagon roads connecting the countryside with towns, making it easier for farmers to bring their harvest to market. Quesnay and other physiocrats considered that it was unwise to tax the artisans and merchants because this would simply be converted to higher prices, which would in turn eventually be passed on to the only ‘productive class’, the farmers.

So too the central argument in Progress and Poverty was that ‘economic rent’ of land (primarily a product of its location) should be shared by society. Economic rent is a neoclassical economics term which for the purpose of this discussion simply means the unearned income derived from the ownership of land due to its location, as well as the infrastructure, services or amenities around it. George argued that because this value came from the efforts and investment of society as a whole rather than from the landlord, the additional value accruing from it should be redistributed to society in the form of a tax. This would disincentivise behaviours such as land-banking – that is, holding undeveloped land for years at a time waiting for its value to increase as a result of others’ investment and development in the surrounding area.

In fact, George went further and argued that a land-value tax (i.e. a tax on just the land – not on any buildings or developments on it) should be the only tax, and that capital and labour should not be taxed. His arguments gained a lot of support around the western world and, in the United States, Progress and Poverty was a best-seller, second only to the Bible. Equally, though, George’s ideas met with fierce opposition – especially from those with the most to lose: the wealthy, land-owning elites whose interests would be eroded by such a tax. In New Zealand his ideas found both enthusiastic adherents and vehement detractors, but they likely influenced the Rating on Unimproved Value Act, introduced in 1896. This legislation enabled taxes to be levied on land at a local level, though these remained optional and only one of a suite of taxes – rather than a single tax as George advocated.

More generally, and as highlighted by and Morgan Edwards in their recent address to the Reality of Everything Symposium (recordings of their talk and other expert talks now available on the website), tax is a critically important tool in the fiscal policy toolkit: to redistribute society’s wealth more equitably and to dampen down inflationary consumption, among other important functions.

Let's hope that this proposal will stimulate some informed debate about how to reform the tax system to create a fairer society that values and protects its shared inheritance.

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OK so here I am really asking you to stretch the limits of your imagination and suspend judgement for a while. And the title is in need of some serious qualification.

But before I get to that, this post can be seen as a twin to my previous post – it is looking at the same structural change, but from a different perspective – the politician’s.

And unlike that post, which was a bit abstract (I think a lot of people thought I was just talking about climate action but really I was talking about our economic system), in this post I am going to be a lot more specific.

Longer time readers will have read my various posts about how the ideological adherence to small government and low debt levels has prevented successive governments from delivering on public good – whether it be public health, social housing or climate action. (See for example, Government is like a household and the excellent guest post Deconstructing Nicola).

And now too we have and Morgan Edward’s address to the Reality of Everything Symposium on the topic.

This is something that refers to the 30/30 rule: that is, the unwritten but religiously adhered to rule that government debt should be kept to around 30% of Gross Domestic Product and the size of government must be kept within 30% of GDP. While the percentage has floated around a bit, this adherence to a low debt-to-GDP ratio was a product of the Public Finance Act 1989, which required government to be “fiscally responsible” and reduce it debt to “prudent levels”.

Bernard Hickey has been talking about this for years, and has long criticised both National-led and Labour-led governments for their blind adherence to this “rule”. More recently on the Kākā, he lamented that despite Labour leader Chris Hipkin’s “performative promises” about increasing spending on health, public transport and the like, a Labour government’s refusal to veer from a 30/30 rule would prevent it from doing any of the major investment in public services and climate action so desperately required.

“[These rules] effectively prevent Labour from doing significant state house building or significant public transport building. So that’s the concern here, that Labour’s promises are effectively redundant and hollow unless it decides to abandon the 30-30 rule, which is the core of the neoliberal set of tools which have been in place since 1989.”

I am sure he is right.

But what I am about to say may raise some eyebrows. Because I surmise that Chris Hipkins, and if not him then other senior members of the Labour caucus1 believe that what Bernard Hickey, Ganesh Ahirao and others have been saying is right and they desperately want to throw off the shackles of this arbitrary and damaging rule and its broader ideology. But - and here is the clincher - they also know that to do so would be political suicide. They would be mercilessly pilloried by the opposition and banished forever to non-governing purgatory by the electorate.

In other words, even if they believe this rule must be abandoned and a more responsible approach to government adopted, they need the mandate to do this. And of course, no electorate is going to give them the mandate because we have also been indoctrinated by the “government is like a household” maxim and assume all debt is bad.

But that is where the previous post comes in. Neoliberalism, of which the small government ideology is a key tenet, was not introduced as a result of an overwhelming wave of electoral support. It was the result of persistent advocacy of a small but determined and highly strategic group of (admittedly very well-resourced) adherents who persuaded key politicians (especially Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Regan) that neoliberalism would be the salve to the fiscal woes of governments the world over (the testing ground was Chile under the dictator Augusto Pinochet).

A mandate could stem from a well-organised campaign to persuade enough people (but not necessarily a majority) that continued adherence to this rule is not only undermining Aotearoa New Zealand’s societal and economic wellbeing now, it is going to seriously degrade Aotearoa’s resilience into the future. I believe (and no doubt there will be many naysayers) this could be done. It would take a bit of organising and it would take a bit of resourcing. But it could be done.

But there is one other aspect that needs to be addressed. Many people have legitimate concerns about debt, and therefore are uncomfortable about any prospect of government “debt” being increased. They know that as systems scientist puts it when describing our financial system, “debt is a claim against energy and materials” (and therefore nature).

This is a valid point. But there is a big difference between private sector debt, raised to maximise private profit at the expense of society and the biosphere, and government spending (because of course as we know this is not funded by taxes or borrowing). And as both Ganesh Ahirao and Morgan Edwards state in their address to the Reality of Everything Symposium, government spending into the economy must ensure that there are adequate resources, including skilled people, and environmental capacity for that investment.

But as we also know from the research of Dr Julia Steinberger and her team (see Public services are the linchpin for living well within limits), government investment in public goods and services is a much more energy-, carbon-, resource-efficient way to deliver on core human needs than private consumption. For instance, an affordable, efficient and reliable public transport system in our cities and towns (whether trains, trackless trams, or buses) would greatly reduce the need for people to own and run cars, drastically reducing the need to spend public money on roads building and maintenance, treat disease caused by air pollution, mitigate and respond to deaths and injuries from car crashes and so on. In short, investment in public goods to meet core societal needs is much better for the planet than each of us trying to maximise our own wellbeing through private consumption.

In summary, structural change is not just about political awareness; I believe that at least some key politicians are aware and would like to see a shift to more responsible economic governance.

It is about mandate. And only we, as citizens, can provide that mandate. That is our superpower. Imagine if we unleashed it.

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The notion that it takes a decent chunk of society to want change before it happens has made many of us feel hopeless and disillusioned. If we can’t get our own family, friends or close colleagues to care, how do we make the rest of society to?

This idea has been reinforced by industry-led campaigns (most notoriously the BP carbon footprint calculator) to transfer responsibility for environmental degradation to the individual and encourage us to adopt “green behaviours”, behaviours that will “cascade” on to those around us, creating societal shifts - or so we are told.

Economists and marketers have embraced this as “nudge theory” and “nudging techniques”; I remember this being the thing when I worked at the now abolished Ministry for the Environment. Perish the thought of actually using regulation or pricing to change the system! Let’s encourage people to make the “right” choices by “nudging” them through subtle changes in their environment, such as product labelling.

So, according to this line of thinking, we have to satisfy ourselves with making changes in our own lives (eg recycling, eating less meat, riding our push-bike more) and hoping that others will too.1 And then at some indeterminate point in the future, these actions may aggregate with those of others’ and make some kind of difference.

This keeps us in our boxes - in our innocuous roles as consumers - and encourages us to relinquish our much more powerful role as citizens. Keeping us in our “individualised, consumer box” is good for both government (especially the neoliberal kind that believes government should be kept small and not interfere with people trying to make money) and the business and industrial world, which does not like being told what to do.

It therefore leads us to a state of paralysis. It strips us of agency. We turn away from any hope of structural, system change, and instead focus on what we can do at home, or in our own communities, where we feel some level of agency.

But of course, the notion that we need a majority demanding action to get structural change before change happens is a myth. It is an “convenient untruth”.

As Professor of Social Science spells out in his illuminating book “The Living-Green Myth”, the social science tells us that it is persistent strategic minorities of 10-15 percent of the population that typically drive social change. And he offers concrete historical examples:

“Abolition, women’s suffrage, Gandhi’s challenge to British rule, economic liberalism, gay marriage, the US civil rights movement, the banning of ozone-destroying CFCs, right-wing populism: in each of these instances (and in others like them) determined and strategic minorities made change happen. Mass acceptance came later - if at all.”

Collective action based on a collective awareness of the interconnected crises that are shaping our lives and our future was central to the recent Reality of Everything Symposium.

But the 26 June was just the awareness part of the equation. (Watch videos of the expert talks on the Reality of Everything website.) Next must come the action. And here, the magic number is 15% - the percentage of the population that needs to be engaged in persistent and strategic impetus for change.

The structural change people talked about at the symposium was in the spheres of economy, governance, infrastructural and social resilience, public health and food systems. So not much then! But of course, just like the polycrisis itself, all these spheres of action are interconnected - meaning that actions in one sphere can act on others, creating positive feedback loops.

So the number is 15. And the time is now.

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”Wow”

If pressed to describe what happened on Friday 26 June - the much-anticipated Reality of Everything Symposium - in one word, this would be it. Just “wow”.

Not simply because it all came together with remarkably few hiccups. Not only because of the calibre of our expert speakers, facilitators and Kaitoro/MC. Not just because of our amazing volunteer team. Not just because people managed to get there despite the travel disruption caused by adverse weather.

But because of the incredible knowledge, commitment and energy that coalesced in the form of 300 humans in that lecture theatre at Rutherford House on Friday. The diversity and richness of expertise and wisdom was astonishing. There were doctors, architects, bank managers, engineers, teachers, social entrepreneurs, economists, scientists, policymakers, council staff, journalists and - not many, but a few - politicians.

And as my final words to the symposium express, Friday was just the beginning.

There is much more to be done to amplify awareness and mobilise collective action, and we would love your support to do this (in whatever form that takes - maybe just by sharing this post).

Today was just the beginning

“Three words capture the intent of the day: awareness, action and collectiveness.

First and foremost, today was about awareness. To have even felt the need to be part of this event meant that each one of you has awareness. But I hope that by being here, listening to these speakers and having these discussions has both deepened your awareness and strengthened your confidence to head back out into the world and amplify this awareness. In this way, each one of you are Emissaries of Awareness – of the polycrisis, of its component parts, of what steps we must take – collectively – to respond.

Which brings me to the second word: action. The rationale behind this symposium was that action must be based on awareness - a full awareness of the interconnected and complex nature of the polycrisis. Without this, any actions taken to “fix” isolated problems will be ineffective – or worse – will make the predicament worse, as we clearly heard from Dr ’s talk.

And finally, today was about the collective. For too long we have been urged to take action as individuals, to be “responsible consumers”: to reduce our carbon footprint, to recycle, to compost – this has individualised our predicament, absolving industry and government from their responsibility – their responsibility to use the power they have to change the system, but choose not to use.

By allowing ourselves to be siloed into this role as individual consumers rather than a collective of citizens, we have severely constrained our ability to influence the system. Now is the time to break out of our siloed existence as individuals – and create connection and alliances with others to amplify our power as citizens.

In the last session you explored ways you might turn the reality we heard about today into action. Many of you are already doing this in your communities right now. But there is one action that is potentially more powerful than all the others. And that is, talking.

Talk to your friends, family, neighbours, colleagues, maybe the person next to you watching the kids’ football. Talk to them about the polycrisis. Perhaps one small strand of it – something that you think will resonate with them. Perhaps it is food, perhaps it is insurance. We have been led to believe that only we care or are aware. That others don’t share these deep concerns for the future. But by talking about it we may soon find out that your neighbour, your aunty, the person next to you in the supermarket queue also cares as deeply as you do. And even if they don’t – yet - what you say may plant a seed for future germination.

And soon we will have videos of each of the expert talks you heard today. These will be available on the Reality of Everything website and on Youtube. Share these videos, Send them to your local MP, or local councillors, share with work colleagues, with friends and family.

And as you heard from and Dr Anne Bardsley, there will be a Polis survey that you will all be invited to participate and share in the weeks ahead. This will be a fantastic way to spread awareness and create more opportunities for conversation.

And finally, we have elections coming up. We need to up the ante on what is at stake. We know it is not just the cost of living, or the cost of fuel at the fuel pump, or whether saving for retirement should be compulsory or not. We know that so much more is at stake. Let’s work together to ensure that other New Zealanders understand this too. That tipping point of awareness may be much much closer than we think. Let’s tip it.

So this is the end of today but it has the potential to be the start of a new, amplified awareness – of the Reality of Everything. Let’s make it happen.”

Some thank yous

I would like to once again express my heartful gratitude to everyone who made the day a success. To everyone who came the symposium or joined us online. To everyone who so generously made donations or purchased pay-it-forward tickets so that others could come. To the volunteers who helped make the day run so smoothly. To the core team who were unwavering in their support for this crazy idea from day one. To Hannah and Thomas Schickedanz for the inspired graphic design and website that made this thing pop. And to the talented Bob Zuur for a beautiful photographic record (some of which are shared above - many more to share).

What’s next?

We are already hatching plans to capitalise on what we have achieved, amplify awareness of “the reality of everything” and mobilise for collective action, based on this awareness. We will be on the hunt for funding partners to support us in the amplification of the Reality of Everything, so if you or your organisation are keen to be part of something truly transformative, please be in touch.

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Just three days to go until the Reality of Everything Symposium! In anticipation of the event, this is the media release that went out last week to media organisations. We got some good pick up, including an interview on RNZ Nights, and we have a camera crew coming to interview participants on the day. This is all about amplifying awareness, so please share with anyone (in or outside of the media) who you think may be interested.

The Reality of Everything: symposium tackles the crises shaping everyday life in New Zealand

What do rising grocery bills, soaring insurance premiums, food producers under pressure, and growing international instability have in common?

According to organisers of The Reality of Everything Symposium, they are all part of a much bigger story – one that New Zealanders urgently want to understand.

Within two months of being announced, in-person tickets to the Wellington symposium sold out – a strong signal, organisers say, of growing public appetite for a deeper conversation about the converging crises shaping life in Aotearoa, and how to respond.

In response to the demand, organisers have added a free livestream option so people around the country can take part.

“We’ve been heartened by the level of interest,” says symposium organiser Dr Catherine Knight. “The rapid sell-out tells us many New Zealanders are looking for a space to engage honestly with the realities we face – and to explore how we can forge a better future together.”

On Friday 26 June, Victoria University of Wellington will bring together leading thinkers from across Aotearoa for a one-day symposium exploring the “polycrisis”: the interconnected environmental, economic and geopolitical pressures shaping our future.

While climate change dominates much public and media discussion, organisers say it is only one part of a wider planetary crisis. Biodiversity collapse, freshwater and ocean pollution, energy insecurity, geopolitical conflict and food system vulnerability are also converging – with direct implications for everyday life in New Zealand.

“These aren’t distant or abstract issues,” says Knight. “They are already showing up in the things New Zealanders care about most: the cost of living, insurance affordability, food prices, energy costs, and disquiet about what the future holds.”

Recent conflict in the Middle East has highlighted how exposed global supply chains are. Disruption around the Strait of Hormuz affects not only fuel prices, but fertiliser supplies – critical to New Zealand agriculture. At the same time, the closure of vegetable processing plants in Hawke’s Bay and Canterbury has raised serious questions about domestic food production capacity and food security.

“New Zealand often sees itself as food-secure, but our systems are more fragile than many people realise,” says Knight. “We rely heavily on imported fuel, fertiliser and machinery, while also facing increasing climate and ecological pressures at home.”

The symposium is distinctive in its focus on understanding the scale and interconnected nature of the problem before jumping to solutions.

“Without a full diagnosis, we can’t chart the right path forward,” Knight says. “This is about seeing the whole picture clearly – and building the shared understanding needed to respond wisely as a society.”

Speakers will cover climate change, biodiversity loss, energy realities, trade, public finance, food security, public health and the social and economic impacts of insurance retreat. A participatory democracy strand will invite attendees to help shape the conversation beyond the event itself.

Organisers say the goal is simple but urgent: to connect the dots between global disruption and daily life in Aotearoa – and open a meaningful national conversation about what comes next.

Livestream tickets are free but registration is essential via Humanitix.

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Last night I spoke with RNZ’s Susana Lei’ataua about the planetary polycrisis and the upcoming Reality of Everything Symposium on 26 June. Follow this link to take a listen.

The last few years have felt like we are constantly lurching from one crisis to another.

Whether that’s the cost-of-living crisis, climate change, rising insurance premiums, food security, global conflict. All of these issues are often talked about as though they’re separate - but what if they’re not?

That’s the idea behind The Reality of Everything symposium, a sold-out event bringing together experts to discuss what they call the polycrisis and what this means for Aotearoa.

Dr Catherine Knight is an award-winning environmental historian working in public policy and one of the organisers of the symposium, and she joins Susana Lei’ataua.

Listen to the interview at this link (14 minutes).

To find out more about the Symposium, go to the Reality of Everything website.

To register for a livestream ticket, go to the Humanitix event page.

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A guest post by Searchlight

In the same week New Zealand recorded its highest level of homelessness in modern history, the Minister of Finance stood in Parliament and delivered a Budget speech built on the language of discipline, restraint and fiscal virtue.

The contrast was striking. While families queued at foodbanks, youth unemployment surged in the poorest rural communities, and young people continued to leave in droves, the Government’s central narrative was one of belt tightening, bending debt curves and returning the books to surplus.

This contrast is not simply political theatre. It reflects a set of public‑finance myths so deeply embedded in New Zealand’s political culture that they feel like common sense. These myths shrink political imagination, justify underinvestment and turn economic management into a moral test. Nicola Willis’s 2026 Budget speech is a case study in how these myths are reproduced through metaphor, framing and narrative structure.

The speech opens with a familiar litany of global shocks and domestic fragility. Debt is a burden. Interest costs are a weight. An ageing population is a cost that must be shouldered. The state is described as a household that must tighten its belt, avoid temptation and resist “Band-Aids and sugar hits”.

The household analogy feels powerful because it mirrors how our own lives work. If we spend more than we earn, we run out of money. If we max out our credit cards, the interest crushes us. So, when politicians say the Government must “tighten its belt” or “live within its means”, it sounds sensible. But it’s deeply misleading.

A family can’t create money. A currency‑issuing sovereign Government such as New Zealand’s can, and does, every day. A family can go bankrupt. A Government that issues its own dollars cannot run out of them and can always meet its obligations. A family must earn income before it spends. A Government spends first, and tax comes afterwards. (See also “The government is like a household”.)

As Otago doctoral student writes on his New Economic Management Substack, recognising that the Reserve Bank can always meet the Government’s liabilities “has the potential to fundamentally change New Zealand’s political economy”.

This doesn’t mean the Government can spend with impunity. It means the limits the Government should worry about are not financial, but the productive capacity of the real economy: workers, skills, materials, land, infrastructure. Can we build more houses? Generate more energy? Train and employ more nurses and teachers? Expand factories? If the real resources exist, the Government can mobilise them or invest to build them. If they don’t, and the Government issues too much currency, that’s where inflation risks arise. And no-one wants that.

Shift the diagnosis from a fiscal deficit to a deficit in the capabilities people need to live decent, flourishing lives, and the entire economic prescription changes. The guiding questions then become: where should we be investing so that our people can flourish, be productive, and contribute? The basics, for a start, such as feeding our children, ensuring they are warmly housed, providing low‑cost electricity, building the productive capabilities of our communities and regions so our children have a future, and lifting our woeful science and innovation budget so we can solve the big problems facing us.

And what needs to be done to secure the natural beauty and bountifulness of our land for our grandchildren? Or, to borrow from Robert F. Kennedy, the beauty of our cultures, the strength of our relationships, the intelligence of public debate and the integrity of public officials? From all these things our innovation and productivity spring and hence the growth this Government says it wants but is doing so much to destroy.

The household metaphor makes investment in teachers, nurses, housing, science, community wealth‑building, the arts and public infrastructure look reckless. It makes cuts look responsible, even when those cuts fall hardest on people already struggling.

Yet the household metaphor dominates Nicola Willis’s speech, narrowing what is politically imaginable. It has become what German political economist Maja Göpel calls an “iron cage”, locking us into outdated systems, institutions, incentives and norms, a cage that inhibits our freedom and denies the increasingly hard lived reality of our people.

Once the household metaphor is accepted without challenge and repeated constantly in the media, austerity stops being a choice and starts being a duty, the “adult” thing to do.

The speech reinforces the idea that the government must earn the right to spend by first proving its discipline. Surpluses are framed as redemption. Debt is framed as sin. Spending is temptation. Restraint is virtue. This is not economic analysis. It is moral storytelling. The effect is to turn public investment into a vice and public neglect into a virtue. It becomes politically rational to underfund health, housing and education, even when the social costs of doing so are immense, because the moral reward lies in the appearance of discipline today, not the prosperity of our children tomorrow and into the future.

This moral framing becomes sharpest when the speech turns to people on low incomes. Working families are praised. Sole parents who move into work are celebrated. But beneficiaries are described through the language of dependency, cost and correction. Temporary Additional Support is reduced to a “last resort”, implying that long‑term need is a misuse of the system rather than a reflection of structural failings. The rhetorical tricks are unmistakable: the government is the parent, the public is the child, and the poor are wayward children needing discipline. The wealthy, by contrast, are cast as responsible adults. Deserving even.

Yet the same discipline is not applied to ministers themselves. The speech insists that “Kiwis should have confidence that the Government is spending their money wisely”, even as several ministers have accepted allowances and perks far beyond what ordinary workers could access, ironically, for their housing.

The household metaphor is invoked to discipline the poor, not the powerful. And this is where the political economy becomes unavoidable: many well‑off New Zealanders cheer austerity because, as the Prime Minister himself put it, they are “sorted”. They do not rely on the services being cut. They do not feel the consequences. Austerity is painless for those insulated by wealth and devastating for those who are not. When you are sorted, it is easy to lay the blame on those who are not.

The Budget’s commitment to reducing core Crown expenses to 30 percent of GDP is presented as responsible management. But this number is not an economic law. It is a political choice based on a fiction that has shaped the country for decades.

The result of fiscal responsibility and tax cuts that benefit some and not others is human and material deficits, a degrading of the productive capacity of the economy. New Zealand’s declining productivity has long been a puzzle for consecutive Governments and commentators. But there is no puzzle. It is laughably simple. We just haven’t invested in it.

New Zealand’s real challenges stem from that underinvestment: infrastructure decay, productivity stagnation and social distress. These are the real deficits, the real debts that can legitimately be described as crippling. Yet the speech celebrates coming in under the operating allowance even as demand for services rises and our young people leave. Arbitrary fiscal rules masquerade as mathematics, but they function as ideology.

The deepest insight comes from recognising the speech as a moral narrative rather than a fiscal document. It constructs a world in which the state must be frugal, the private sector must be empowered, restraint is virtue, spending is temptation, debt is sin and surpluses are redemption. This is not neutral language. It is a moralised worldview. And worldviews shape policy. They determine what is imaginable, what is permissible and what is politically rewarded.

Nicola Willis has a first‑class honours degree in English literature and a postgraduate diploma in journalism. She understands rhetoric and how language works instinctively and through training. She will have studied French literary theorist Roland Barthes. She deploys what Barthes calls the “symbolic code”: the oppositions of virtue and vice, discipline and indulgence, to frame fiscal choices as moral ones.

She uses the “hermeneutic code”, a high‑theory label for a very old storytelling trick that draws the reader in, presenting rising debt, global instability, ageing populations and extreme weather as complex, urgent problems beyond the public’s full understanding. And then comes the hermeneutic punchline: her plan is the only credible resolution.

Lastly, she relies on the “cultural code”, drawing on familiar household metaphors that feel natural even as they distort how New Zealand’s public finances actually work. This is not accidental. It is craft. The Budget is written not just to inform but to shape the moral universe in which political decisions are judged.

Deconstructing that story as we have here is not cynicism. It is clarity. Willis’s speech is not simply a Budget. It is a clever fiction about how the world works, who deserves what and what the future should look like, with Nicola Willis cast as a virtuous Eve who did not eat the apple, and those who oppose or dispute her narrative as profligate devil’s advocates.

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In February this year, Trump unleashed an Israeli/US war on Iran. Many speculated that this was a distraction from the Epstein files and slumping domestic popularity. But I think I have got to the bottom of the real reason. Trump is a closet degrowth proponent. So yes, his approach may be unconventional and does not align with best practice (degrowth is supposed to be planned to minimise negative social and economic impacts) but it is almost certain that his actions will lead to a shrinking of world economy. Indeed it is the view of many analysts that the closure of the Strait of Hormuz and the ensuing energy shock, which will not be short-lived, may spell the end of economic growth as we know it.

That it is elevating the risk of a global recession is not just the view of the usual Cassandras I follow, such as the Honest Sorcerer, Richard Murphy, Nate Hagens and the like but also of such sober, non-alarmist institutions as the International Monetary Fund and the OECD. And the latest Trump-provoked energy crisis is on top of his sweeping introduction of tariffs, which through inflationary effects and suppression of consumer demand, are predicted by the IMF to have negative long-term effects on the global economy.

And here in New Zealand, we have a government that has been systematically pulling back its investment into the economy and enthusiastically encouraging the replacement of human jobs with AI, particularly in the public sector. This comes after already slashing thousands of public sector jobs and halting many projects, such as the iReX ferry project and numerous Kainga Ora housing developments. (Which comes at an eye-watering economic cost: a new report shows pausing, cancelling and delaying infrastructure projects has cost New Zealand an estimated $11.8 billion in the last 25 years.)

Slashing jobs and investment into public services and infrastructure is going to have major dampening effect on the economy. But let’s take a look at the likely downstream impacts of AI in particular. In a recent post, the Honest Sorcerer laid out how the accelerated uptake of AI across the economy is likely to suppress consumption. Why? For one, because people who no longer have jobs don’t tend to spend very much. Reduced consumer demand will lead to companies lowering their prices to stimulate demand, while at the same time attempting to increase efficiency by adopting more AI and laying off more human workers. Creating a vicious cycle - as he describes it, “A very hard to escape economic situation, where falling prices lead to lower wages, job losses, and delayed consumer spending—just like during the 1930’s.”

A worldwide recession will create a self-reinforcing spiral of reduced consumption. And as we know, over-consumption is the cause of overshoot, which has led to climate change and the breach of multiple other planetary boundaries.

Was this Trump and Willis’ plan all along? To bring the global economy to the brink of collapse, destroy consumption and its negative biospheric impacts, all dressed up in a right-wing agenda? If so, quite ingenious - but it is a pity they didn’t follow more conventional degrowth approaches, as set out in Jason Hickel’s “Less is More”, Timothée Parique’s “Slow down or die” and Giorgos Kallis et al’s “The Case for Degrowth”, which would have involved fewer missiles and far less collateral damage.1

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There has been a lot of media coverage of the Budget over the last 24 hours. But I have not heard one bit of commentary (bar the inimitable of course) question the assumption that there is some immutable fiscal threshold within which the government must operate. And that breaching that threshold will rain indescribable calamity upon us all.

It is an unquestioned imperative that government must get debt down, “balance the books”, get “its fiscals into shape”, create some “operating space” or some “fiscal headroom”, and get “back in black” so that it can “live within its means”. In other words, the government is - or so we are told - exactly like a household.

Because if you are household, debt is bad. If you are a household, you must strive to pay back loans, spend within your means, and "save for a rainy day". You must ensure that your income covers your expenses.

But this analogy ignores one important thing. The government is nothing like a household.

I know no household that issues its own currency. I know no household which, when it spends, stimulates the entire economy, including private sector investment. (Or when it pulls back spending, can drag an economy into recession.) I know no household which can spend before it receives income. (Yes, because the idea that the government needs to borrow or tax before spending is a myth. It is the other way around. And the real constraint on government spending is not currency but real resources - eg, energy, steel, concrete, skilled workers and environmental capacity.)

It is a pity that we don’t see this myth being questioned by the media. Because this would get to the heart of what government is for. Is government simply a glorified book-keeper, there to “balance the books”? Or is it a body elected on our behalf to invest into an economy that supports resilience, wellbeing and a flourishing future for all?

To understand more about why the “government is like a household” analogy is a dangerous myth, please watch ’s explainer on the topic.

And to hear more of an Aotearoa take on this, don’t miss Dr and Morgan Edward’s () session on “Unleashing Public Finance” at the Reality of Everything Symposium.

*Based on some heroic assumptions: including that the war in the Middle East will end soon; that fuel price and supply chain shocks caused by the conflict are temporary; that there will be a strong economic recovery (GDP growth of 3.2% by June 2028); and planned cuts to public sector etc will actually produce enduring cost savings.

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Many of us make myriad choices in our lives - such as not to eat meat, to buy second-hand clothes and to use the bicycle rather than the car - with a sense that somehow, if enough people do the same, we will change how the economy works. That eventually the aggregate of all our green behaviours will “save the world”.

But it turns out we have been sold yet another myth. An all-pervasive version of the BP carbon footprint, which encouraged us to focus on reducing the greenhouse gas emissions generated by our own consumer choices, rather than trying to influence industry or government policy.

In fact, in his conversation with climate corruption journalist Rachel McDonald social scientist Michael Maniates goes further. He calls it a con. He also calls it corrosive, because individuals desperately wanting to effect change have been led to believe that it is not enough to make these choices individually; they must also persuade their friends, their family, their neighbours and their workmates do the same. And when that doesn’t happen, people become dejected and disillusioned.

But he is not saying that “going green and living lean” is not worthwhile. Far from it. Living in ways that reduce our impact on the biosphere make ethical sense and can enrich our lives and bring us into closer connection with our community and environment.

What he is saying is that we should not make these choices because we believe that somehow those behaviours are going to aggregate with those of others to lead to transformative political and social change. The social science on this is clear is no, he says: it is not going to happen.

Theoretically, Maniates says, behaviour change on a mass scale could provoke system change. “But I am hard-pressed to think of any instance of a successful challenge to dominant social, economic or political systems that has come from mass behaviour change as an initial driver.”

Those structural changes do not happen as a consequence of the aggregate of individual behaviours but rather concerted, direct efforts to transform the institutions we do have influence over. Not efforts mediated through the market.

“The Living Green Myth” as he calls it, emerged from a neoliberal economic system which has inculcated us with the belief that as consumers (not citizens, mind) operating in a “free market”, we have agency to change how the market works. But as Donald points out, there is nothing free about the market. Rather, it is labyrinthine system of regulatory support, incentives, subsidies and kickbacks, with every push towards greener consumption counteracted with even greater force by industry in its effort to maintain the status quo – or a version of the status quo. The example they discuss is the push to ban single-use plastic bags in some US states, which was initially stymied by industry touting recycling as the solution. And when plastic bags were eventually banned, the pulp and paper industry stepped in with their “solution” - single-use paper bags, whose production is arguably more energy-intensive and environmentally damaging than the plastic bags they replaced.

But he also warns against the argument that we just need a good crisis to get the behaviour change we need “to save the world”. “Crises rarely lead to progressive change,” he warns. In fact, as we saw with the rise of neoliberalism itself, crises are often used a justification for the stripping back of democratic institutions and public investment.

But here is the crux of it. Maniates is not arguing that we don’t as individuals have power.

“We have power. We have individual agency. But we should not be frittering it away trying to decide between paper or plastic or getting the neighbour to hang their washing on the line.

We should be preaching to the converted rather than trying to convert those not in solidarity with us, and getting on with the business of organising for structural change.”

Hallelujah. Let’s do it, people!

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So I think we have all got it by now (well, people in my Substackosphere anyway… the politicians still appear to be struggling):

Without oil, there is no economy. More specifically, without diesel, there is no economy.

As petroleum geologist Art Berman puts it in his recent conversation with The Great Simplification’s Nate Hagens:

“Diesel … is the global economy. Diesel runs all the ships, all the trains. All the trucks, all the agricultural equipment, all the mining equipment. And those uses don’t have scalable substitutes, at least not in the near term. So if you don’t have diesel, you can’t move anything. You can’t mine anything. You can’t do very much of anything. So your economy comes to a screeching halt if you don’t have diesel.”

Sure, but we have been here before right – the 1978/9 oil crisis?

Well, yes and … no.

In terms of magnitude of impact, Berman calculates that this is about 100 times greater than the 1978/9 oil shock in terms of daily loss of oil to the economy (i.e., rate of loss). And as he points out, in previous crises, oil supply was lost gradually over a period of time – several months to years. In this case it literally happened overnight.

But if it is this bad, why aren’t we feeling any real shortages yet? As a number of commentators including Berman, the Honest Sorcerer and Richard Murphy have said, the full flow-through effects are yet to come. We are experiencing a Wiley E Coyote moment, where we are all suspended in mid-air, waiting for gravitational (or in this case, biophysical) forces to exert themselves. And when they do, it will not just be a shock that affects liquid fuels, but also fertiliser, food, and other supply chains.

The initial shock of lost supply has been dampened by the release of unprecedented volumes of reserve oil, particularly by the United States. But there will soon be no more to release, and that lost supply will be lost forever. In fact, Berman says that the impact of the shock will last until we stop using oil:

“We are going to be with constrained oil supply until we stop using oil.”

This cannot mean anything other than an economy that slows down, potentially entering an extended recession or even depression. Ultimately we can only hope that eventually we reach a new equilibrium; one that is much better aligned with planetary boundaries. But this is not planned degrowth. This is going be chaotic and messy and a lot of people will suffer. In the global South, they are already suffering.

Intriguingly, this slow-down was occurring before the war on Iran (or as Berman put it, the ‘greatest military blunder since Napoleon decided to invade Russia in 1812’). Data on global production of plastic, fertiliser, cement and steel (the ‘four pillars of civilisation’ - all made using fossil fuels), are all in decline.

Clearly, in this situation, a little island nation at the bottom of the Earth, with minimal buying power and long supply chains, should be thinking about building resilience into our economy and into our social fabric. We will face critical supply issues in fuel, fertiliser, medical supplies, machinery, and many other things. We need to start planning for these and meanwhile become more self-sufficient in the things in which we have the capacity to do so. Food being a key example. We should not be shutting down local food manufacturing capacity; we should be encouraging more it. (Personally I think there is an urgent conversation to be had here about nationalisation or at the very least public investment.) And we need to be investing in the electrification of transport of the future (rail, trackless trams, buses) not squandering precious, scarce resources on four-lane motorways - bitumen monuments to the peak-oil past.1

And what can you and I do? If you have a garden, plant some beans! If you don’t, see if you can support local community garden or food recovery initiatives. Or support your local repair café. (For other ideas, check out this guide developed by transition engineer /Wise Response.)

But what is the most important action of all? In my view, it is to be aware. And to amplify this awareness through our family, social and professional networks.

Talk about energy security. Talk about food security. Talk about diesel being the lifeblood of the economy. Talk about New Zealand being ‘the last bus stop on the planet’ - highly vulnerable to supply chain disruption. Talk about the urgent need for an economy centred on wellbeing and resilience, not growth.

And of course, join us at The Reality of Everything Symposium, 26 June, where awareness will be theme of the day.

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My 13-year old daughter alerted me to an intriguing social media phenomenon the other day. Apparently, people’s Tiktok and Instagram posts of AI-generated dancing cats and talking babies are now attracting an avalanche of indignant (and apparently without irony?) comments that such use of AI is killing polar bears. Even more perversely, people are creating AI-generated videos supposedly showing the plight of polar bears as a result of the proliferation of AI.

On the one hand, it is good that people are questioning the environmental impacts of AI – especially frivolous use that serves no purpose other than to capture the attention of social media users for a fleeting few seconds, before their attention is attracted by the next bit of AI-generated slop.

On the other hand, it almost perfectly encapsulates our utterly inadequate societal awareness of the impacts of our consumption - not just of AI, but of energy, transport, food, clothes, electronics and other consumables. Where we do have some awareness, the impacts are ‘over there’: in the Arctic, where the ice is melting, or in the Amazon where millions of hectares of rainforest are destroyed every year, or in Chile, where water is depleted and degraded by lithium mining for our EV and e-bike batteries (the production of one tonne of lithium carbonate apparently requires about 500,000 litres of water), or in Kenya, Uganda and other African nations where lands are being forcibly taken to plant carbon forests to offset industrial activity and consumption in high-income nations like ours. And in Indonesia, where the recycling of our exported plastic waste harms the environment and people’s health.

For the most part, the harm from our consumption – much of it just as frivolous or as discretionary as cute dancing cat videos – is out of sight and therefore out of mind.

But what if it wasn’t? What if all of the environmental impacts of our consumption were on-shored? What if our own treasured indigenous forests were cut down to provide fuel to replace fossil fuels, just as people are being forced to do in parts of India and Africa right now? What if our own young people set to work combing through piles of discarded plastic in the name of ‘recycling’? What if our own national parks were desecrated and waterways were contaminated through the mining of any minerals or metals we can find?1 What if all the pollution from industrial processes poured into the bays we love to swim and fish in, poisoning fish and other life?

In the current globalised system we are spared the ugliness of the harm of our own consumption, because it is primarily perpetrated on other people’s land, forests, waters, culture and society.

And we have seen a version of this in the latest fuel crisis. In recent days, a New Zealand fuel company executive was on the news coolly reassuring New Zealanders that “there is no fuel supply crisis”. He went to explain that this was because we can always get the fuel, it is just a matter of price. And to an extent, he is right. Because we are a relatively high-income nation, this means we can outbid poorer nations on the international market to get the diesel, petrol, jet fuel and bunker fuel we need to continue to energise our high-consumption lifestyles.

In other words, our national wealth, accumulated on the back of imperialism - both historic and ongoing - enables New Zealand to out-compete poorer nations on the global market. But as commentators such as Nate Hagens and energy expert Rory Johnston have outlined, people in poorer countries are suffering outright energy scarcity as a result of the US/Israel war on Iran. People are no longer able to get the LPG to cook and keep themselves warm, meaning that they have to switch to more polluting fuel sources such as coal, firewood or go without. So again, our over-consumption is having very real consequences for people “over there” all anonymously mediated through the market.

Imagine how quickly society would disintegrate if one household’s consumption meant our neighbour had to go cold or could not cook a meal? This is what is happening on a global scale, right now. But no political or corporate leader blinks an eye. This is market forces at their perfect best: scarce resources go to the highest bidder. But what happens when even our bid is not high enough? Perhaps we will then begin to understand that we live in a finite world.

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Like many of us, I listen to lots of podcasts - about political economy, energy, food systems and the wider planetary predicament. But one has stood out as really important in the last few weeks. This was Rachel McDonald’s conversation with Julia Steinberger (Professor of Societal Challenges and Climate Change at University of Lausanne) on the findings of her team’s research project Living well within limits.

The “Living well within limits” project investigated how much energy is required to meet human needs, satisfy necessary human development and improve all human wellbeing globally.

Astonishingly, the team concluded that we could dramatically improve the wellbeing of everyone on the planet with less than half of the energy we currently use. (See also this cool little film on the project.) This can only be done through the use of demand side technologies (for example home insulation), not just the usual supply side technologies pushed at us by the market.

But here was the clincher for me. Her team’s research findings leads Julia to the conclusion that:

“Public services are key to reducing our resource use and every kind of environmental impact but still live good lives.”

The researchers also found that household energy use is remarkably similar (i.e., equitable) across households in many countries - particularly in developing nations. However, one sector where this is not the case is transport.

Their research consistently found that at transport is an area in which households spend their excess income on. The richer households get the more they spend on transport.

“You see inequality exploding in transport. At every level – bigger cars, more expensive cars, more frequent trips, longer distances, flying… We need to curb the excess income of the richest households, because they are choosing to destroy the planet through transport.

(I would add here that ‘they’ here is for the most part ‘we’. While she provides the eye-watering example of a billionaire’s superyacht using as much energy as a small city while just sitting in harbour, many households in high-income countries spend much more than our fair share on transport.)

As she puts it, “transport is not something you cannot green-grow your way out of”. Instead, we need to make low-carbon, energy efficient transport modes available to people of across society. This means investing in public services - trains, buses, safe cycleways and walking. (But I would also add that urban design is critical. We cannot keep on pushing communities further out onto the perimeter of cities, away from amenities, essential services, and public transport. This may mean cheaper houses in the short run but means higher living costs and quality of life in the long term.) Because in the end, it is this investment in public services that is going to draw us back from the precipice of overshoot and self-destruction, not more individual consumption - whether it is the latest electric car or otherwise.

Of course the usual argument against more investment in public services is, to quote current Finance Minister Nicola Willis’ favourite line: “There is no magic money tree”. The only problem is, effectively there is. It is called money creation, and is something that any government with its own fiat currency can do. As I outline it in this post, it is real resources that are the actual constraint on public (or private) spending, not currency - as we are finding out in the current fuel crisis. (Our government can have any amount of money sitting by for “a rainy day”, but this is no use if liquid fuels, which drive our economy, are not available to buy.)

Julia also explains how coercive overconsumption is built into our economic system. This is the product of industry working with the state on regulation to create dependence on their products. One obvious example of this is the political economy of car dependency, which has come about as a result of public investment and regulatory settings that favours roads over public transport and rail. (Including the outlawing of pedestrian use of roads: “jaywalking” laws were introduced in the United States as result of industry lobbying, in an effort to stop pedestrians getting in the way of automobiles.) And of course, private motor vehicles not only suck up much more than their fair share of scarce materials and energy, they are also killing us. Through air pollution, sedentary lifestyles and crashes. For instance, a team of New Zealand researchers found that utes are seven times more likely to be fatal for (other people) in an accident than smaller light vehicles.

Another more recent example is artificial intelligence, which is being pushed at is from our software, places of employment, and of course, through ubiquitous advertising.

Finally, this research debunks the pervasive myth that improved wellbeing necessitates higher energy (and therefore resource) use. Quite the opposite is true, and will have the added benefit of preserving a liveable future.

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I have been taking a break from Substack over the last few weeks because my 17 year-old son and I travelled to the United Kingdom and southern Spain. My son has never been out of the country and is off to university next year to study music and political science, so it seemed a fitting way to mark his passage from childhood to adulthood. It was a chance for him to see some of the places he had read so much about through his love of history, and a precious opportunity to meet close relatives in the United Kingdom.

Of course, as someone acutely aware of the damage to our biosphere of overconsumption, including tourism and travel, it came with a large measure of flight shame. And frankly, emissions from flying are only a half of it – generally, travel is associated with a eye-watering amount of wasteful consumption. But it also came with a recognition from both of us that this was an experience to be cherished, and unlikely to be repeated for some time (if ever, in my case).

In our travels, we saw spectacular light shows and beautiful parks, and visited the archaeological sites of many centuries of human occupation at Hadrian’s Wall. We marvelled at the beauty of 1300-year-old cathedrals, and other places of immense historical and cultural significance. We tandem biked through the ancient New Forest Commons, and enjoyed stunning flamenco performances, including one in a cave dwelling in Granada.

A highlight was a tour of the United Kingdom Parliament, through which we gained a deeper appreciation of many of the political conventions we have inherited (for instance, political lobbying takes its name from the central lobby in the Parliament buildings where people would go to talk to Ministers about their concerns).

We deepened our understanding of history and cultural threads that have influenced our own place in the world. But we also came away with a more valuable ‘learning’: that for all the history, culture and riches (both historic and contemporary) of the places we visited, in Aotearoa New Zealand, we live in one of the best places in the world.

For instance, Singapore is acclaimed for its approach to city-making, with its compact urban form, famed urban parks and highly regulated car use. As someone working in transport and city-making – especially urban nature - I had long been curious to see it for myself.

The downtown epicentre of high-rise steel, concrete and glass monuments to extractive capitalism and glittering malls devoted to conspicuous consumption were in their own way awe-inspiring, but what struck me was the sheer fragility of this artifice. Singapore’s wealth has accrued primarily from financial sector – the buying and selling of money, divorced from physical resources – or the ‘ponzi pyramid’ as Nate Hagens describes this biophysically-blind money-go-round. One that, once the future claims against real resources unravel, will inevitably disintegrate, leaving an emperor with no clothes. When I looked skyward at these towering monuments of steel and class, that is all that I saw. Fragility. An emperor with no clothes.

For sure, there were some nice parks – the Botanical Gardens especially are beautiful – but give me New Zealand’s more-rough-around-the-edges nature spaces any day. And while impressive, I was surprised by how little accessible green space there actually was. And while Singapore drivers were respectful of pedestrians, make no mistake: this is a city built for cars not people – with 50 km/h four lane roads puncturing every walk journey multiple times. So not the pedestrian paradise I was imagining.

I have so many more reflections I could share but foremost among these is how fortunate we are to live in a small, sparsely populated country, still relatively intact social cohesion, with a temperate (for now) climate, well-endowed with natural resources. If we wanted to, with fundamental changes in land use and how we energise the economy, we could feed ourselves. (Singapore will never be able to do that.)

But we cannot take any of this for granted. Our climate and biodiversity is disintegrating, we are squandering our natural resources such as fresh water and fertile soils, our social cohesion is under threat from both government policies and overseas actors, our society is becoming more inequitable, with all the associated symptoms of deteriorating public health, crime, and social fracturing.

Only we as civil society can stop this from happening. By acting from the ground up and demanding governance that puts humanity and nature before private-sector profit.

This is where the upcoming The Reality of Everything Symposium comes in. Two months out, tickets have now sold out - demonstrating the sheer demand for reality-based discussion and action on our predicament. But we can still accommodate any politicians or business leaders who wish to join us. You can help to make them aware of this opportunity - see below.

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We have had a string of azure-blue-skied, still and warm autumnal days, and this weekend, there were lots of people out enjoying the river tracks and parks near where I live on the Kapiti Coast. In fact, at times it reached summer temperatures – and people flocked to the local swimming hole to have a dip. And people were down at the river with their dogs, which splashed around in the water, barking ecstatically, chasing balls and sticks.

But they did so oblivious to the sign showing that the river was code red. The river is tested weekly, and this week for the first time this ‘summer’, tests revealed the presence of a toxic algal bloom. This usually happens after days of hot dry weather when river levels are low – generally in the summer. I don’t ever recall it happening this far into autumn.

If ingested, the algae is lethal to dogs and make people sick. Toxic algal blooms have killed dogs at the Hutt River. Here is distressing description of how Echo, a sixth-month old beagle, who died after swallowing blue-green algae at the Hutt River:

“She came in [to the vet clinic] twitching and not able to stand up and she collapsed. It would have been three-quarters of an hour after being in the water and she was seizing.”

It struck me as sad and perplexing that these people were out enjoying nature, spending quality time with their friends and dogs - utterly oblivious to the fact that it could kill their beloved pet.

And it seemed to me that this is a metaphor for what is happening on a planetary scale. The Earth is convulsing, seizing, as it tries to get back into balance. But it can’t – the damage from human pollution and destruction of ecosystems is too much. The planetary arrow is at red, but we humans continue on with our lives: driving our kids to school in our Toyota Hilux’s, watching AI-generated videos of dancing cats, buying more clothes we don’t really need on Temu.

Just like the people frolicking with their dogs at the river, we are oblivious to the signs.

Just like the people with their dogs, the full realisation may only come when life – and all the things familiar and dear - collapses around us, in convulsions.

This is overshoot. A sign that the human pressures on the environment have put it out of kilter. It is a microcosm of what is happening on a planetary scale.

But we have a choice. We can continue on with our lives oblivious to what is happening, or we can use the crisis created by the war on Iran to show that the polycrisis is real, energy and material descent is happening, the desperate scramble over remaining oil, rare-earth metals and other resources is escalating, and it is will continue to ignite globally destabilising geopolitical conflict as climate change beds in and ecosystems collapse. It is affecting us and will continue to affect us.

Collectively, we can raise our voices in protest and demand another system. An economy that puts the needs of people at the centre, while protecting and restoring the planetary systems we depend upon. A well-being centred economy. Now is our chance. Let’s not squander it.

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