Labour’s unhappy interns

Labour has made a hash of its scheme to import young interns to help run its election campaign, and its timing was exquisite. Just when it was making serious trouble for National over the deBarclay, as it’s now called, Labour reveals its own scandal. Thanks, Matt McCarten. Once again you’ve raised doubts about your reputation as a fixer and campaigner of genius.

Party leader Andrew Little says it’s ‘‘embarrassing’’ for the party, and nobody can disagree. Labour can’t campaign against letting in unskilled workers on lousy pay and then give the impression it’s doing the same thing. ‘‘Hypocrite’’ is a standard political insult, but this time it has a measure of real sting in it.

Exactly how big a disaster is this for Labour? During an election campaign, this kind of question might seem merely academic. Voters vote with their hearts rather than their heads, and few people involved in political arguments can be relied on for their cool objectivity.

But it’s worth pointing out that interns are not quite in the same category as sweated labour, despite the running gags about Labour’s ‘‘sweatshop’’. Interns don’t expect to be paid, and nor should they. What the intern wants is political experience, and the internship is supposed to provide it.

In this case, part of the mess seems to have been a mismatch of cultures. Many of the interns are American and ended up sleeping on a non-luxurious marae. Some found themselves in tiny makeshift sleeping cubicles, and there was a broken shower. One complained about a skinny mattress. It’s not what your average young American is used to.

What’s more, Labour seems to have overdone the publicity. It promised talks by luminaries like Helen Clark; the reality was more like a video. Political parties should know something about managing expectations.

Some interns objected and some apparently wanted to go home. Others quite like the marae. Certainly there were too many in one place hardly built to cater properly for them, although the marae’s leaders strenuously object to the idea that their treatment breached the duty of manaakitanga, or hospitality.

Labour’s former Auckland head McCarten, who hatched the scheme and took it with him when he left the party, admits the scale of the scheme became ‘‘greater than I can manage.’’

This is a pretty damning admission.

It’s still not clear why he allowed too many to join the scheme. It’s no excuse that many wanted to come. The organiser of the scheme must limit the numbers to what is manageable.