Comment: The weekly Monday post-Cabinet press conference is a useful forum for observing Christopher Luxon and how he is developing into the job of Prime Minister.
He attempts to convey the impression of a man of action, speaking fast, delivering memorised National Party strategies in a connect-the-slogans kind of way, and is increasingly bringing some order to the lawless mosh pit of press gallery questioning.
Luxon shows things of himself: his manager mindset, his competitive nature politically, his stubbornness and his various obsessions and fixations (his words) in following through on even policies others have given up on.
He doesn’t shy from the questions – he sometimes stays at the podium too long for his political good – and hears from the biggest and smallest voices and outlets in front of him. There’s been a creeping irritation of late, a slight turn of the lip at the more combative or repetitive queries and frustration when his backstop line “I can’t be clearer” doesn’t clear things up.
Within the drama of it all, Luxon shows some judgment, usually declining comment on whatever tabloid issue of the day away from politics is fascinating New Zealanders. Unlike his friend John Key, it’s unlikely Luxon will share with us that he urinates in the shower.
Overall, he fronts. And while he can speak in a different dialect at times, he tries to work out what he’s being asked and tries to fashion a politically careful slogan in response.
The more acute problems tend to arise when the Luxon show is co-hosted by one of his ministers.
On Monday, sharing the mics was the Minister of Corrections Mark Mitchell. The double-act was the worst so far of Luxon’s time as Prime Minister.
Mitchell and Luxon have talked a big game of restoring law and order to the country. It is one of the three rattled-off mantras Luxon deploys in almost any answer in any forum.
And they had a big number to announce to the assembled media – $1.9 billion of supposedly additional spending on Corrections over the next four years. (The return, at Waikeria, of a super jail once mooted by the last National government and curtailed by Labour.)
Luxon told us a fortnight ago how he “rolls” when he rolled two ministers from their portfolios. He also likes, very much, to roll up numbers and actions into one, big, hairy and audacious figure.
A numerical slogan, of sorts. Sometimes these big numbers are readily understandable but often they are so exaggerated or cobbled together they would make an illusionist blush.
Mitchell’s spend on Corrections was almost too big a roll-up. It included:
- money the Government has made Corrections cut from its existing budget (so not new spending by this administration, not even additional)
- capital expenditure for a new wing of 810 beds at Waikeria Prison
- operational expenditure for 680 more prison officers and higher pay rates
- funds for programmes to help steer remand inmates away from a life of crime
- four years of annual spends
The minister himself then added layers of complexity by saying the National-led Government was also restoring 400 beds nationwide that Labour had not funded, and confusing himself as to how many extra beds would end up being at Waikeria.
As the questions seeking detailed bed, staffing and budget numbers fired up to the podium, Mitchell second-guessed himself, re-found his nerve and third-guessed himself.
It proved catchy. Luxon waded in, at his usual fast clip, assuring all that the $1.9 billion was for operating expenditure, not capital.
Mitchell then had that sinking realisation he would have to correct his leader, that the overall number included both operating and capital expenditure.
Even then, the two men would not say how much was operating and how much was capital because of commercial sensitivities in negotiating the prison construction and the prison officers’ pay rates.
Both men tried to evade the devil in all that detail by coming back to the overall picture, the magical $1.9 billion that would help make Kiwis safer and the fact some of the dollars were going to help stop remand inmates falling into that life of crime.
It was all a bit late. Explaining is losing, or so the more cynical operatives out there say.
Mitchell had at a certain moment allowed a flicker of doubt into his head. As he dissolved, the PM erred, too, on capex and the result was a display as unconvincing as that podium has seen in years.
The 40-minute episode in the Beehive Theatrette just reinforced the most basic rules of political communications: understand your brief, boil it down, remember your lines and your numbers, repeat your messages and don’t bluff.
Its singular incoherence served another purpose. It helped highlight how much better Luxon has become in flying solo, managing his own delivery, relying on his own memory and controlling his own rhythm with numbers, questioners and slogans.
The top tier of ministers, including Finance Minister Nicola Willis and Housing Minister Chris Bishop, are smart enough not to detract from their leader.
Other ministers have stood at Mitchell’s mic in past weeks and months and delivered performances of varied quality.
Erica Stanford on education was clear, knew what she needed to say and said it. The duo was confident and it showed.
Simeon Brown was confident and not so clear on transport, but he is a far more agile speaker than Mitchell so he was able to dig himself out of less-certain areas of questioning.
Louise Upston on benefit compliance did okay, even if the numbers and percentages she and Luxon relied on to justify their policy were more random than related.
Judith Collins would have held no fear of the theatrette when joining Luxon and Foreign Minister Winston Peters in announcing New Zealand’s support for the US-led actions against Houthi attacks on Red Sea shipping. Yet she was curiously in-agile, tongue-tied and uncertain, for example refusing to specify which service of our military would be involved.
The Prime Minister is the first among equals and will want and need to roll out his ministers when more detail is needed on a policy announcement. He needs them to be up to speed; up to his speed.
Luxon downplayed it all on Tuesday as a “mix-up in the moment” but made it clear the blame fell to his minister. He ignored a question on why he, too, had provided a factually wrong answer on capex.
Mitchell’s red face and mea culpa on the Tuesday morning media round for, in his words, “muddying the waters” and saying too much will serve as a searing lesson for his colleagues.
Don’t embarrass the boss.
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