Hard times and the Budget blues

Otago generosity: Presbyterian Support Otago staff with canned goods donated for the Octacan...
Otago generosity: Presbyterian Support Otago staff with canned goods donated for the Octacan appeal, shaped into Matariki stars. PHOTO: STEPHEN JAQUIERY
Rising costs have many families at the tipping point, Robbie Moginie writes.

There is something remarkable about Otago communities when times are hard.

Whenever Presbyterian Support Otago puts out a call for foodbank items, winter clothing, school stationery, or support for families doing it tough, people respond.

Quietly, generously, and without fuss. Bags of groceries arrive at our foodbank. After a call for help, anonymous donations come in from people who often do not have much to spare themselves.

It speaks to something deeply hopeful about our region: a belief that when people are struggling, we look after one another, that together, we’ll manage.

For a long time, many families did manage. They budgeted carefully, paid their bills on time, worked hard, raised families, and stretched every dollar further than most people thought possible.

Many came through recessions, redundancies, and difficult economic cycles without asking for help.

But increasingly, the people Presbyterian Support Otago works alongside are telling us something has changed.

Much of the public conversation about Budget 2026 has focused on restraint, discipline, and the return to surplus. There has been talk of ‘‘tightening belts’’ and living within our means.

Fiscal responsibility matters. A strong economy matters. Future generations should not inherit unsustainable debt.

But there is another side to the story that is harder to see from Wellington spreadsheets and economic forecasts.

It is the quiet accumulation of pressure inside homes across communities like Waitaki, Dunedin, Balclutha, Oamaru, and Central Otago.

For many households, the tipping point is arriving not because of one catastrophic event, but because of layer upon layer of rising costs: power, insurance, rent, fuel, groceries, transport, healthcare, and now significant rates increases.

Our Waitaki households on fixed incomes are still reeling from the announcement of a 22% increase in rates.

For retired people already choosing carefully between heating and groceries during winter, that is not a minor adjustment. It is the difference between coping and not coping.

What concerns me most is a clear widening of deprivation and need across our community.

One of the strongest indicators of this is what we are seeing through financial mentoring services.

Over the last year, 71% of the people accessing Presbyterian Support Otago’s financial mentoring service were new to the service — a clear sign that financial stress is spreading into households that never expected to need help.

These are not reckless people. Many have worked their entire lives.

Some are families with one income. Some are older people who believed their savings and superannuation would be enough.

Increasingly, they are discovering that careful living is no longer enough protection.

One family we are supporting has one parent in work and another unable to work because of health issues. They are raising a child while carrying significant debt. Despite paying $100 a week towards it, the debt continues to grow.

Their weekly choices are impossible ones: power or groceries, petrol or school costs, healthcare or debt repayment.

Another household is carrying around $1500 in electricity debt while relying on credit cards and buy-now-pay-later lending simply to cover basic living costs. One parent is working. The other is searching for employment. They are trying to survive in an environment where wages and support are no longer keeping pace with essential costs.

This is what hardship increasingly looks like in modern New Zealand.

Not always visible crisis or homelessness. Often it is exhaustion, constant calculation, and the stress of knowing there is no buffer left when the next bill arrives.

And perhaps most concerning of all is what prolonged stress does to hope.

Recently, a client wrote a spontaneous letter to one of our social workers after hearing she was leaving.

The client thanked her for helping them ‘‘keep moving forward, one step at a time’’ and for ‘‘never giving up’’ on them.

I have thought a lot about that letter, because underneath all the economic debates, that is what is ultimately at stake: whether people still feel someone believes they matter.

Community organisations see every day how quickly financial pressure becomes emotional pressure, relationship pressure, health pressure, and intergenerational pressure.

When families live in chronic stress, children absorb it. Older people become isolated.

Mental health deteriorates. Small setbacks become major crises. We should never normalise this.

A responsible economy is not simply one that balances its books. It is one that protects human dignity while it does so.

New Zealanders are resilient people. Otago people are resilient people, but resilience is not infinite. Even careful people eventually reach a point where there is nothing left to cut back.

The risk for our country is not only economic hardship. It is the slow erosion of social trust and collective optimism — the feeling that no matter how hard you work or how responsibly you live, the basics continue moving further out of reach.

Economic recovery and strong communities are not competing priorities — they rely on one another.

Long-term recovery depends on children being supported to thrive, families being able to stay housed and connected, and older people living with dignity.

Community organisations and social supports are not separate from economic resilience; they are part of the foundation that makes it possible. If we want recovery that lasts, we cannot simply focus on returning to surplus.

We must also ensure the people carrying the weight of recovery are still able to carry hope for the future.

• Robbie Moginie is chief executive of Presbyterian Support Otago.