Tapu Misa

Tapu Misa

Perhaps it's a characteristic of the underclass that they don't know who they are, but when reporters visited the now famous McGehan Close in Owairaka last week in search of them, the elusive underclass seemed to be either in hiding or in denial.

In fact, residents of what John Key called "dead end" New Zealand seemed a little peeved by the National leader's label. They had jobs; they worked hard; they wanted their kids to do well. They just had a lot less money to do it with.

There was, indeed, a problem with youth crime in their street, as evidenced by the drunken teenager who approached Weekend Herald reporters. But if there was an underclass there - and at least one woman agreed there was - it certainly wasn't them.

No problem. Key paid a visit to assure the inhabitants of McGehan Close he meant no offence, and only wanted to help. He got chummy with Joan Nathan, described as a 30-something paper deliverer and invited her 12-year-old daughter, Aroha, to Waitangi with him; Nathan said she'd vote for him.

Which was nice for Key, from a public relations point of view, but had he found a card-carrying member of the underclass in Nathan? She didn't think so. She was poor, yes, but there were many people worse off, she said.

So where was this underclass - and what did it look like? Key said it could be found in places like McGehan Close, "where rungs on the ladder of opportunity have been broken".

"I'm talking about places where happy and sparkling 6- and 7-year-olds become angry and resentful 14- and 15-year-olds. I'm talking about places where there is a complete lack of hope."

But that didn't describe the hopeful Nathan at all, and her kids seemed shy rather than angry and resentful.

Clearly, it didn't describe Key either, despite growing up in a state house with a single mum who took on cleaning to supplement her benefit.

No, Key had dreamed of better things, as he rode his bicycle round Burnside, and pressed his nose against the windows of the well-off to see what he was missing out on. He hadn't envied. He had been determined to work himself out of there. He'd succeeded. All it had taken was gumption and hard work.

So clearly he was talking about a lesser class of poor - not the poor that Jesus said would always be with us.

The idea of an undesirable, ignorant class of people populating the underbelly of society and threatening its survival has been around since at least the 18th century, when English demographer Thomas Malthus warned against the over-production of the lower classes and encouraged them not to breed. A few modern-day commentators agree.