Michael Cullen retires from Parliament this week. And with his approaching 30 years of service, there should be no shortage of commentators available to reflect on his legacy and his contribution.

As someone who served as his press secretary and speechwriter in only his last 12 months as a minister, I should probably leave it to others to speculate on the durability of the Superannuation Fund, KiwiSaver, Working for Families and his transformation of the Treaty Settlements process.

For what it's worth (and with as much personal bias aside as possible), I believe it is a hard ask to point to another Western social democrat of his generation who has left a larger imprint on their domestic policy landscape.

What my experience with Michael Cullen does grant me is a privileged perspective on the personality and temperament of a man who was often polarising, even when held in wide respect.

For many in the public, reconciling the man seen visibly angry in a controversially broadcast exchange with Guyon Espiner with the man visibly moved at the signing of the Central North Island forestry settlement is not an easy task.

How do you make sense of the formidable policy mind who amazed senior officials when he designed the expansion of KiwiSaver on a couple of sides of A5 (complete with costings) with the infuriated figure who labelled John Key a "rich prick"?

His image over nine years as Helen Clark's deputy was one of contradiction and one that contrasted greatly with his leader's consistency in the role of the pragmatic, decisive Prime Minister.

But those of us who have been lucky enough to work with Michael, even for short periods, know that there is a straight line through his personality that enabled him to steer Labour's policy ship for well over a decade, and that made him refuse to take simple steps that would have broadened his public appeal.

Let's look at the caricature of Michael painted by his enemies: the dangerously thrifty (or was it profligate?), overly clever Finance Minister who refused to cut taxes out of some deep-rooted class envy.

That is what political opponents - for better or worse - do to their enemies. They paint their desired image, and try to nurture its place in the popular imagination.

But for a man who came of age at a time when your performance in the debating chamber determined a large part of your political fortune - and when that score would leave him firmly in control of his own political destiny - Michael was never willing to play by the PR rulebook that would have helped him throw off this ridiculous sense of who he was.