Does NZ have undue tolerance for potentially corrupt behaviour?

Policy should be evidence based and policy should be based on expert advice, but politics is not like that, writes Glen Morgan.

The ill-advised government actions against our successful smokefree policies look, to many, like Schadenfreude (wilful joy in destruction) or just plain vandalism. But now the parliamentary opposition, and many in the health sector, believe they have detected a whiff of corruption as well.

This is something that should always be thoroughly investigated in a democracy because corruption and oligarchy go hand in hand, and oligarchy is the death of democracy.

The difficulty is the subtlety of the line between legitimate lobbying and corrupt practice. Corruption clearly takes place when money buys favours, but corruption can occur in other ways. Influence can be traded for influence and favours can be traded for favours so that a pecuniary advantage is not so easy to identify.

A job for a family member, a stock market tip, the post-politics promise of a lucrative seat on a board of directors, or a sinecure as a paid spokesperson for an industry sector — all of these can be forms of corruption if they are a quid pro quo for influence over policy.

Policy should be evidence based and policy should be based on expert advice, but politics is not like that. One of the inherent weaknesses of democracy is that, to get votes, politicians often have to confirm the biases of their voter base and confirmation bias is not about evidence or good advice.

This is not a cause to abandon democracy in favour of notions like benevolent autocracy. History has shown us that autocracy tends to spiral down into corrupt despotism. Hence the old adage that "absolute power corrupts absolutely".

Democracy is a relatively new and still developing form of government. For the most part, it works well and works still better as it evolves the culture and the mechanisms to control corrupt influences. One mechanism that is designed to protect politicians from temptation is a mandatory period of time, post politics, in which they are not allowed to be employed by or involved with organisations or businesses where they have been active in policy making.

This notion was raised quite recently when one of our parliamentarians retired to, quite openly, become a lobbyist promising access to those who make political decisions. This had a comic naivety about it and its relative harmlessness-by-ineptitude meant that the discussion did not go much further.

Historically, there have been parliamentarians who, after politics, have gone to work for organisations associated with portfolios which they formerly held. The farming and the transport sectors come to mind. There are those who attribute the decline of rail transport in New Zealand to common cause between the political right and the road transport industry; this being seen as detrimental to the balanced development of New Zealand’s transport infrastructure.

Similar concerns have been expressed about the long-term effects on the balance of our economy of farming, in general, and the dairy industry in particular. The argument being that undue influence on policy has led to loss of support for other sectors of the economy and made us economically vulnerable by having too many eggs in one basket.

Whether this is a form of corruption is a moot point, but economies distorted in favour of particular sectors or persons who closely support a government are characteristic of "banana republics", and this is a euphemism for autocratic oligarchies.

We are a long way from this situation in New Zealand, but the speed with which we have recently seen other countries’ democracies and economies damaged by undue, entrenched influence is something we should take note of. In Britain, America and Europe, stable democracies are threatening to unravel at the hands of corruption and oligarchic influences.

New Zealand has long relied on a culture of fairness and honesty to protect us from corruption, but there is a concern that this makes us vulnerable, and even that our society and our balanced economic development have already been damaged by subtle and increasing influence peddling.

When culture and honesty fail to protect societies, we tend to respond with laws, but too much law can have a stultifying effect on societies. Striking a balance between an intrinsically fair and honest voluntary culture and legal constraint is not easy, especially in times of rapid change. So, do we have undue tolerance for behaviour with the potential to be corrupt?

If we consider a hypothetical, portfolio-holding politician who, in the New Zealand political tradition of backing winners, makes decisions that favour a particular industry, is that corruption? No, not if it’s done in good faith. If that industry also backs their political party financially, is that corruption? Well, we are starting to approach the threshold for concern. But no, they could still be acting in good faith on behalf of the country. Well, if they retire from politics and accept a position in the industry which they have favoured, is that corruption?

At this point the water gets a little muddier, but this is not necessarily corruption. They may be returning to an industry from whence they came and to a job for which they are well qualified. Their portfolio experience might also legitimately make them appropriately qualified, but they also still have contacts and political influence which might also make them attractive to employ. This is getting into murky territory, but it still does not indicate that someone has said: "You get these policies through Parliament, and we’ll see you right when you retire, mate".

The problem, however, is the optics and the culture that it suggests. If someone gets what might be called a sinecure in an area for which they have had policy responsibilities, it doesn’t look good. And, at a cultural level, it lessens confidence in the integrity of our institutions and normalises questionable practices.

It is probably time that we got proactive about this. We have recently seen the toll that parliamentary life can take on people. Politics is an insecure and stressful occupation, without a significant golden handshake at the end. This could make parliamentarians vulnerable to actions which might secure their futures. We could protect them and ourselves by identifying areas of endeavour for which they should have something analogous to a restraint of trade for a suitable period. Oh! And an appropriate golden handshake, so there’s no excuse for lapses from grace!

 - Glen Morgan is a retired teacher and former short-term member of the Greymouth District Council.