High cost to political families
John Key’s resignation highlighted many issues but one that hasn’t been discussed much is the sacrifice families make for their high-flying king-pins. In his stepping down speech, Key said his marvellous eight years in power had ‘‘come at quite some sacrifice for the people who are dearest to me – my family.
‘‘For my wife Bronagh, there have been many nights and weekends spent alone, many occasions that were important to her that I simply could not attend.
‘‘My daughter Stephie and my son Max have transitioned from teenagers to young adults while coping with an extraordinary level of intrusion and pressure because of their father’s job.’’
Key’s family is lucky he was generally a popular figure who was not widely derided or mocked and given cruel nicknames such as those that stuck to former Labour Prime Minister Bill Rowling.
The sacrifice Key referred to does have its balancing compensations, as he mentioned. Prime Ministers’ families and their like get an exciting lifestyle and meet lots of interesting, autograph-worthy people. They are spared many of life’s mundane pains and inconveniences.
For extroverted people who like excitement it must be a wonderful time. On the other hand, it’s quite conceivable that shy, retiring people would find the lifestyle hell on earth.
I was once on a highway north of Auckland and noticed John Key giving Max a driving lesson, followed by a security retinue.
This can’t have been much fun for Max but if they broke down they wouldn’t be waiting for the AA mechanic.
The real pain for families like Key’s is that the loss of anonymity is permanent.
Bronagh Key will always find it difficult to pop down to Pak’nSave to do the family shopping without a lot of prying eyes scrutinising what she is putting in the shopping basket.
The attention given to the sacrifice the families of political figures make in terms of coping with an absent father or mother and being forced to live in the public glare is a reasonably recent phenomenon.
We live in a child-centred age when the absence of a father from the family is seen as somehow damaging to the upbringing of children.
‘‘I should have spent more time with my family’’ is now a frequent refrain from mothers and fathers with onerous, high profile jobs.
Curiously, we are quite happy to tolerate the absent father problem if the fathers come from another country and work for us.
The Philippines is a nation which seems to operate very well with a big proportion of their menfolk working overseas while their families are brought up by those left at home.
A lot of the Arab oil states survive on Pakistani dads leaving their families to work in those wealthy countries where many jobs are beneath the locals.
(My family also seems to flourish while I am away and I find I have to crack the whip when I get home,)
Maybe we will look back on this phenomenon as a barbarity perpetuated by the rich on the poor but for the moment absent dads are a social evil which we confine to our own society and culture.
Families have also become much more a part of political packaging.
Maybe I missed it but I can’t remember Rob Muldoon or Jim Bolger trotting out their children on election victory stages.
Despite the new prominence given to the families of major politicians, the New Zealand media still tend to leave the families of political figures pretty much alone unless they invite public scrutiny in the way Max Key has.
Commendably, Key was not complaining but he must be wondering, and has left us wondering, if his reign was worth the cost to his wife and family. He’s certainly raised the question.
Why then do people seek a highly public office that they know will result in neglect of their family and also expose them to intrusive scrutiny and potential embarrassment?
There will be some for whom their families will be no competition for their raging ambition and egotism. Others will justify the costs to their family as being necessary because ‘‘the country needs me’’.
The latter might be true in some instances but probably not very often in politics during ordinary times.
The sacrifices are in the main unnecessary. There are always older, less encumbered people ready to step into the breach.
Their children have grown up , are off their hands, and have the ability to flee the country and change their names. These people are still in charge of all their faculties, are approaching peak intelligence and most importantly have time on their hands.
It sounds old fashioned but maybe leave the family-damaging jobs to the childless and the old guys and gals.
‘‘The real pain for families like Key’s is that the loss of anonymity is permanent. Bronagh Key will always find it difficult to pop down to Pak’nSave to do the family shopping without a lot of prying eyes scrutinising what she is putting in the shopping basket.’’