Marlborough Express - Weekend Express
When compassion is in short supply
Compassion is something we tend to reserve for our loved ones, and for when the occasional celebrity has romantic problems.
Politicians are rarely shown much compassion by the public and – given the nature of the parliamentary bear pit – they rarely show it to each other.
The self-inflicted problems of former Greens MP Golriz Ghahraman dominated the headlines last week. As she has said, the stresses she was under do not excuse her actions, which led to multiple allegations of retail theft.
These incidents have already destroyed her political career. Eventually, they may disbar her from returning to her former career as a lawyer.
As Greens co-leader James Shaw pointed out, Ghahraman had faced repeated threats of sexual and physical violence ever since she became an MP. While not rendering her actions acceptable, such threats make them more understandable.
No doubt, many New Zealanders face daily struggles with other forms of extreme stress, often without having anyone to support them. The authorities are not known for extending much compassion to offenders whose mental condition has led them to stray from the straight and narrow.
Perhaps that approach needs to change. Politicians exist in a stressful public fish bowl. However, many other New Zealanders have experienced horrors in childhood and adolescence that have resulted in addictive behaviours and mental disorders that culminate in them
committing crimes, sometimes involving violence.
Compassion is in short supply for such people. Crime tends to be regarded solely as an individual choice, and an individual responsibility. This applies even to people who were subjected to hideous
treatment while growing up.
Society expects them to cope and to thrive, regardless – on the understanding that the state will mete out harsh punishment to those that break the law.
To query the logic (and the justice) of that approach is not to be soft on crime.
The United States has demonstrated the folly of a purely punitive approach to crime.
Routinely, thousands of New Zealanders continue to endure poverty and deprivation that erodes their mental health and contributes to their drug dependencies. Research tells us that mental health problems and addiction play major roles in criminal behaviours, while also obstructing the path to rehabilitation.
Last week though, the media discourse was largely devoted to how the Ghahraman episode had been politically managed. This seemed a strange emphasis. Shortly beforehand, the wedding of Jacinda Ardern and Clarke Gayford had seen more online outbursts of the ugly misogyny that was directed at Ardern throughout her time as prime minister.
In Ghahraman’s case, the misogyny had the added dimension of racism. Surely, the apparent growth in genderised and racist hostility directed at women in public life is a more significant trend than quibbles over how in an ideal world, an incident of political PR might have been better managed.
People are liable for their actions. Arguably though, any government should be willing to address how poverty, deprivation, mental illness and addiction continue to fuel our current rates of crime.
The mental stresses involved may be lifelong, but Parliament (and the justice system) tend to ignore such complicating factors. In that respect, Ghahraman’s case may have been the privileged tip of a large social iceberg.