Jazz began in the 1920s as a response to its times — loose, unpredictable, alive.
It challenged the idea that music should be “correct”. Jazz musicians treated music as dialogue, not monologue.
They listened and responded — to each other, to the moment, and to the audience. The act of listening was what made the music work.
Good decision-making starts with listening, too. It’s how you understand the problem, weigh the trade-offs, and build trust in the path ahead — especially when the decisions are complex, long-term and expensive.
That’s the point of local government: to let communities shape their own future.
Decisions made closer to those affected by them are more likely to be in tune with local needs and values.
Communities know what matters most to them, and should have the power to act.
It’s also the promise of local democracy: proximity, accountability and responsiveness. Councils are entrusted with planning, infrastructure, transport, libraries and more — not because they’re expected to be perfect, but because they’re expected to listen.
What we’re seeing in Wellington at the moment is what happens when they don’t.
While the symptoms may be failing finances and leaking pipes, the real problem runs deeper.
Trust is at an all-time low: just 27% of Wellingtonians trust the council, and only 24% feel listened to.
It’s not hard to see why. Despite widespread public concern, controversial projects keep moving ahead because the council believes it knows best.
That might have washed occasionally if it had shown it could deliver.
But after years of delays and hundreds of millions in cost blowouts, a handful of infrastructure projects — once full of promise — have become symbols of a council that can’t be trusted with complex decisions.
The consequences are both practical and political. Take the failed proposal to sell the city’s stake in Wellington Airport.
There may well have been good financial arguments but by that point it wasn’t about whether selling the airport was the right thing to do.
It was about whether we trusted the council to do the right thing.
After years of delays and hundreds of millions in cost blowouts, a handful of infrastructure projects — once full of promise — have become symbols of a council that can’t be trusted with complex decisions.
That failure derailed the entire long-term planning process, a statutory requirement laying out spending priorities for the next decade.
Something previous councils have delivered like clockwork every three years took this one an extra 12 months and a Crown observer to complete.
But here’s the brighter note: people haven’t given up. The thing about not being listened to is that it leaves Wellingtonians with two choices — stop complaining or do something about it.
Vision for Wellington is an attempt to do the latter: help the city find its rhythm again.
The group was set up with a simple purpose: to listen. It’s deliberately apolitical, aiming to build consensus across backgrounds and beliefs — something that’s near impossible if you’re backing candidates.
In a few short months, we’ve hosted 2000 Wellingtonians at eight public panels featuring 35 local experts, from transport engineers and housing advocates to entrepreneurs and economists.
Thousands more have streamed the conversations online, and hundreds have written in with ideas, feedback and fully formed proposals.
Crucially, we haven’t put forward any ideas of our own. This isn’t about telling Wellington what to do.
It’s about understanding what Wellington wants. What we’re building isn’t a political platform, but a shared set of priorities that reflect the aspirations of the people who live here.
And we’re backing that with robust, representative research so it speaks for the city, not just the loudest voices in the room.
One thing is already clear: Wellingtonians want change.
Every serious mayoral candidate has heard that loud and clear, promising a reset with tighter control of spending, lower pressure on rates, better scrutiny of big projects and greater transparency. The question now is whether they can deliver.
With Wellington playing musical mayors for the third election in a row, and at least five councillors standing down, change is clearly coming — for better or worse.
For a progressive city, a style of leadership that says “we’re right, you’re wrong” is about as conservative as it gets.
What we need now is the opposite: leaders who can listen, adapt and build consensus across differences. Leaders who treat governing not as a monologue but as a conversation.
Because what we’re facing isn’t just a failure of pipes or projects. It’s a failure of decision-making.
Until we change that tune, the outcomes won’t change — no matter who’s in charge.
