Brian Easton says while we may not always have quality political leadership, a couple of recently published autobiographies indicate sometimes we strike it lucky

This is a re-post of an article originally published on pundit.co.nz. It is here with permission.

When ranking our prime ministers, retired professor of history Erik Olssen commented that ‘neither Holland nor Nash was especially effective as prime minister – even his private secretary thought Nash was ineffectual’. Even so, Olssen ranked the two as 11th and 12th out of 21 (and two other historians ranked them even higher). That means Olssen judged there were nine of our prime ministers who were even less effective. Apparently, ineffective prime ministers presided for roughly half the time since the position became formalised in the early twentieth century (previously they were ‘premiers’). It is a salutary reminder that so many of even our top politicians are mediocre, although often that does not become publicly stated until the cosmetics of office are stripped away.

Not surprisingly then, one ends up reading many biographies and autobiographies (often ghost-written) of politicians as a matter of duty or nostalgia. However, sometimes the subject is a quality politician – one way or another – and the reading becomes a pleasure while providing insights. Earlier columns have reviewed the memoirs of Michael Cullen (here and here) and Chris Finlayson (here). Here follow two more which are worth reading.

Derek Quigley (b.1932) was a National MP from 1975 to 1984 (almost four years as a cabinet minister – mainly housing) where he fell out very publicly with Rob Muldoon. Between 1996 and 1999 he was back in Parliament as an ACT MP. This and much more is set out in Challenging the Status Quo: A Political Memoir.

The book chronicles Quigley’s life as well as giving a thumbnail history of the National Party. Politically he is anchored in National on its rightish side, very committed to private enterprise but not quite a neoliberal. (He does not really have a good grasp on the challenges the New Zealand economy has been facing.) His membership of ACT was as much to redirect National. There is a fascinating account of the ideological tensions within the ACT Party, still playing out today, and a gripping account of the failed ‘Colonels Coup’ against Muldoon in 1980, as well as much political gossip. Those interested in international relations will appreciate his detailed accounts of the role he played in restructuring the military. I greatly valued his account of being a minister.

As I did when reading Steven Joyce’s autobiography. A generation younger (b.1963), Joyce was a National minister from 2008 to 2017. He did not fall out with his Prime Minister. John Key lauds him as ‘the guy who got stuff done’. Called ‘the Minister of Everything’, as the seven major portfolios he held indicates, there is much less politics in his On the Record. He is too busy telling you about what he got done.

As is usual, Joyce starts off with his early life. At university he got involved with student radio, which he built up into the successful network RadioWorks. He learned there how to interact with the public, which led, after he sold his holding, to running National’s election campaigns, and then a list MP jumping immediately to become a minister in the Key-English Government.

One cannot help noticing that he developed his radio network by seizing opportunities from changing government regulation. Quigley’s business success after politics was also dependent upon opportunities created by government actions. One can favour private enterprise, but never escape the symbiosis between it and the public sector.

The public has a shallow understanding of the way a minister works; so have, it would seem, many politicians with ministerial ambitions, who think it is about getting the baubles of office and then do what they think should be done (assuming they think). The two books show it is much harder than that. For that reason alone the books should be read by any aspiring politician, potential policy public servant, or observer of how governments actually work.

Quigley was the Minister of Housing for just under four years but his detailed account of twice restructuring the defence services reinforces the description of the required skills. Marilyn Waring said ‘if every minister ran their portfolio like Quigley runs Housing, we would be in government forever.’ Joyce is even more detailed. I was long puzzled about some features of his creation, the Ministry of Business and Innovation and Employment. I am clearer now – I still think the creation of the mega-department was not a good decision. (Ironically, now out of power, Joyce is likely to argue for greater decentralisation.)

There is an important difference between their presentations. Quigley acknowledges the role of his advisers, even naming a particularly valued Treasury economist. Quelle horreur! The convention is that officials at this level are anonymous. Joyce hardly mentions his advisers.

Joyce certainly deserves credit for, say, the broadband rollout. But the story is more complicated. Work on the rollout was well under way by the Clark-Cullen Labour Government, including taking the first steps to separate Telecom’s value-added services (it became Spark), where the market was potentially competitive, from the monopolistic line operation (Chorus) which Telecom had been using to beat its competitors. Almost certainly, Joyce depended on at least one unmentioned official, probably a specialist network economist.

Could either have been a prime minister? Quigley describes how his prospects of leading the National Party were blocked first by Muldoon and later by Jim Bolger – neither of whom he has much time for. Joyce was a contender for National leadership after Bill English’s resignation. The winner, Simon Bridges, demoted him and he left Parliament – he was 55. (Portfolios are often allocated on the basis of rewards to allies, rather than on ability.)

Each is a reminder that the most able may not reach the top. In Labour’s history, Arnold Nordmeyer would almost certainly have made a better prime minister than Nash. But we should never overlook that ministerial success is dependent upon quality, usually, anonymous advisers – although even the best cannot overcome the limitations of a weak boss.

*Brian Easton, an independent scholar, is an economist, social statistician, public policy analyst and historian. He was the Listener economic columnist from 1978 to 2014. This is a re-post of an article originally published on pundit.co.nz. It is here with permission.