Elections could be a strange trip
According to a range of apparently scientific studies released this week, the drug of choice among the young truth-seekers of the 1960s, lysergic acid, or LSD, is making a comeback. They contend that undetectable microdoses of the drug will harmlessly enhance human imagination and advance evolution.
Hardly an insightful observation in terms of biochemistry, but it may explain why, increasingly, the leaders of the ‘‘Free World’’ give the impression that they are on something.
Maybe Donald Trump and Boris Johnson do have a chemical open line to advice the majority of us cannot access. Or perhaps they are just more acutely attuned to external voices.
Either way, it is all a tad disturbing.
On the other hand, British political editor and best-selling author Tom Bradley suggested this week that Johnson’s extraordinary move to suspend parliamentary debate in the House of Commons at the 11th hour of the Brexit crisis is just another indication that ‘‘politics has fallen off the cliff’’ and his country is ‘‘going mad’’.
The political environment on both sides of the Atlantic may give substance to Bradley’s contention that when there are no obvious answers to complex political questions, the default position is to resort to the ‘‘weird and extraordinary’’ as an explanation.
On the other hand, it may be that North Korea’s Kim Jong Un has already launched a pre-emptive strike and laced the drinking water of the Western democratic leaders with mind-bending drugs. There’s probably not much point in checking urine samples at this stage.
In that context, we can take some solace that here on the other side of the world, political debate continues to be relatively benign and predictable.
It is somehow a relief to focus on issues that we do have some control over. Thus it was reassuring to read Nelson Mail reporter Cherie Sivignon’s story this week that the Waimea dam project is still a ‘‘hot election topic’’.
If that is indeed the case, there could be some blood on the floor after the local body elections in October. However, history would suggest this seems unlikely.
It is self-evident that, given the costly project is now well advanced,
there is little point in revisiting the decision, and the most likely outcome is that the caravan simply moves on.
This is a point of view that may not resonate with those who opposed the project but, short of an engineering disaster, it will be many years before the commitment of public funds to a massive water storage scheme can be justified, or otherwise.
And, on reflection, Tasman district voters never did get the opportunity to really test the political water and actually cast a vote for or against the extraordinarily expensive project.
Meanwhile, other issues take precedence.
It may be that, in the short term, the councillors who cheered on the programme will pay the political price in October – but, given the endemic voting malaise in local body elections, that seems unlikely. Political momentum ensures that yesterday’s outrage generally morphs into tomorrow’s apathy.
The same axiom applies to national politics.
Decision-making in a political environment is as much a gamble as it is a carefully constructed fiscal plan – and, despite the extraordinary machinery of checks and balances, our political history is littered with schemes that proved to be both inept and illadvised.
But promises have been made, and action – or at least the illusion of action – is expected. There is only so long any Government can prevaricate, and the Labour-led coalition has just about run out of time on that front.
The so-called ‘‘year of action’’ has been something of a political non-event.
The coalition was difficult enough to market and manage without the Government appearing to handicap itself with a combination of consultative discussions, advisory committees and ill-considered ministerial trumpet-blowing.
It could be suggested that the necessity to negotiate and traverse a three-tiered political landscape has provided a more politically balanced process that, in some instances, worked to Labour’s reluctant advantage. It might also be suggested that the Christchurch massacre derailed the planned ‘‘year of action’’.
It could also be argued that a number of capable ministers are now demonstrating the ability to take the initiative and give the impression that the Government is gaining traction.
But coalition partners have to also take account of when, in a three-year term, they must call time. That imperative is now looming for both NZ First and the Green Party.
The coalition of like minds is fine in theory, but it has proved to be a sometimes bumpy ride, and alliances will be further tested in the run-up to next year’s general election.
Despite Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern’s extraordinary ability to stand tall in the leadership ranks of the international political community, her relaxed, engaging and positive demeanour is not persuading the traditional conservative voter to join her ‘‘relentlessly positive’’ campaign to the degree that appeared to be the case earlier this year.
In fact, the National Opposition leader and his troops seem to still be retaining the bulk of the support they enjoyed at the last election. Twelve months out from the polls, that’s a disconcerting reality for the triumvirate.
While state-funded school lunches is an encouraging initiative, it will require a good deal more imaginative fiscal policy from this cabinet to convince middle New Zealand that the Government has earned three more years in the driving seat.