We are, I hope, entering a new age in politics. Gone are the days where MPs were regularly drunk to fuel themselves through late-night legislative sessions, members’ private conduct was used by their political enemies to blackmail them, and when MPs jeered at more emotionally unstable opponents to “take your pills”.
But our politicians are still massively overworked and understaffed. A minister will work 80+ hours a week and often have just two young political advisers to help them manage their workload and portfolios where billions of dollars and the interests of millions of people are at stake.
We need to ensure that MPs are able to manage their mental wellbeing and have the support to do so. Nobody benefits from exhausted decision-makers, worn down in an increasingly onerous job.
In 2020, Todd Muller showed there was a different way. After 53 days of private torment and panic attacks, he had the courage to tell the country that he was standing down as National’s leader. That was a very brave decision. Imagine: he had dreamed of being Prime Minister since he was a kid, the pressure not to give up on that dream must have been immense - but he had the guts to realise his mental health wasn’t up to it, and to step aside.
Jacinda Ardern didn’t put the boot in when National suddenly found themselves flailing with Muller gone. That wasn’t her way and it wasn’t the way she wanted Labour to behave. If only all leaders had such decorum.
Unfortunately, while Muller was treated with dignity, it seems the same standards don’t apply to a queer Māori woman. Some men in politics — Christopher Luxon, Simeon Brown, and a few journalists — have been talking about her for weeks, and some have blamed Chris Hipkins for her troubles. Truth is, he did the right thing, giving her leave and support.
Let’s rise above such petty opportunistic politics. Let’s recognise that anyone can be afflicted by mental health issues, and they need our support, not vilification. Let’s recognise that it is better for us if leaders can seek help when they need it, without fear of the other side trying to score political points off them.
The idea of some political mental health hygiene test to be a minister doesn’t work. It’s a bit like the old catch-22: is anyone who wants to do a job that takes you away from your family most nights out of a year and consumes most of your waking hours, really “normal”?
Instead, let’s try to bring more compassion to our politics. Let’s have politicians who are not always looking for opportunities to destroy and humiliate the other side. Let’s have politicians who compete on better ideas, who look after the people and the planet, rather than dragging the other side down until they look like the only alternative.
It feels like we are at a crossroads on the treatment of mental health as with so much else, like race relations, workers’ rights, and climate policy.
We can go backwards, back to the days when mental health was a political football, or we can take a mature route, that treats people with dignity and tries to solve issues rather than exploit them for political point-scoring.
Allan is not the first politician with mental wellbeing challenges, and she won’t be the last. Let’s pick the path that ensures others like her will have the respect and help they need.
Strength
Kei te koraha te puawaitanga o te maunga
The mountain is no greater than the daisy growing in the wilderness
Ko te huka o te moana tona orangatahitanga
And the strength of the ocean is made perfect by the frailty of its foam
Haere ki te kokonga o te whare tangi atu ki te po
Scream. Cry. Swear! But never ever give up. When you don’t give up you can never fail.
Whakatauki gifted by Sir Haare Mahanga Te Wehinga Williams
Shane Te Pou (Ngāi Tūhoe) is a commentator, blogger and former Labour Party activist.
