Curran exits feeling ‘relief, exhaustion, disappointment and hope’

When Clare Curran began four parliaments ago, she went straight into opposition. She was in the same Labour cohort as Jacinda Ardern, Grant Robertson, Kelvin Davis, Chris Hipkins, and Carmel Sepuloni as well as others. She sees an upside to them starting out of power.

“[We were all] bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, full-of-beans, ideas… and yet the rest of the caucus was grieving.”

• This story was first published by RNZ

The "nine long years" that Labour were on the opposition benches gave her time to learn her portfolio areas, build policy and develop relationships with industry. When it finally came, the transition to government wasn’t what she might have desired.

“My experience of government hasn’t been the smoothest. ...I was a minister for ten months.”

It certainly ended brutally, and if she had advice now for her younger self, upskilling for government it would be to “be more prepared” and get better at public speaking.

Even considering how it went for her she preferred government to opposition.

“Certainly watching the government introduce the concept of wellbeing, watching a change and shift in our culture in so many ways, and seeing… people’s lives improved for the better; yes of course it’s better to be in government, so what can I say.”

Dunedin South: Electorate work

We chat about her electorate work in Dunedin South (now Taieri) electorate.

“It’s more than two fulltime jobs really [being an MP]. You have a job in Wellington and a job in your constituency and they’re completely different. Some people ...really put their heart and soul into their constituents and I believe I have. I feel the biggest wrench in leaving Parliament is to walk away from ...the people of Dunedin South. If anything makes me tear-up in my valedictory it’ll probably be that.

“People come in my door, they ask for help. I try to help them; and if I see systemic issues and wider issues I try to fix them and improve them. It sometimes put me at odds with some of the powers-that-be in the city but I make no apologies for that.”

Dunedin South MP Clare Curran. Photo: Gregor Richardson

For a change of pace and mindset as she transitions away from politics Clare Curran is currently doing a university paper in ‘Tartan Noir’.

“You never know, I might write a crime fiction set in a Parliament,” she laughs mischievously. “I’ve got plenty of plot lines.”

It’s a line of thought that takes us to the lore about the parliamentary library ‘ghost’, said to be of William Larnach - Dunedin’s 19th century MP who suicided in one of Parliament’s committee rooms. For Ms Curran he is a reminder of “the significant toll on mental health that parliament can bring.”

Politics may have pulled the trigger (he had voted on a bill he had an interest in having sworn not to); but William Larnach’s pistol was loaded by impending financial ruin, and possibly also infidelity. (Having survived two wives his third was possibly having an affair with his son.) 

A foreshadowing maiden

In 2008, in her maiden speech Clare Curran mused why more people don’t want to enter politics. What she said was prescient. 

“Should we not, as a nation, want more people who truly reflect our community to stand up for what they believe? It worries me that so many are disinterested in, and turned off by, politics. Why? One reason is that they fear what might happen to them. They fear that they will be exposed to unsustainable public scrutiny.” 

I read that portion of her speech back to her.

“I continue to have a very strong belief that [the] cynicism that people feel towards politics and politicians is a kind of cancer. ...Despite our progressive society we have a toxic adversarial political system which is perpetuated. You change the people but the system stays more-or-less the same. I’ve spent my whole political career talking about that… I leave feeling as if I haven’t got very far; ...but perhaps I helped continue and develop that conversation.”

Medium v message

She points to a very real difficulty for many new ministers. The necessity of strong presentation, regardless of content.

“I also have a more thoughtful, reticent personality, where I like to think about things before I respond. Well, in the chamber of politics… especially if you’re a minister, you can’t think. And if you pause then that’s taken as a weakness, and if you say ‘uhm’ or ‘aah’, then that’s a weakness. And it becomes a perpetuating thing.”

Certainly, if a minister stumbles, a hungry anticipation for disaster rises in the opposition benches. It’s hardly a balm for calm and confident answers.

“Nobody’s interested really in what you’ve got to say; it’s about the manner in which you deliver it. And if you can thrust back and be witty and cutting, then those are the things that are valued, rather than actually what you’ve got to say and the thought that has gone into it.”

Media a part of the problem

Clare Curran argues that it’s not just politicians that are at fault in this way of operating.

“There’s another really important element to our system, which unfortunately doesn’t get a lot of airplay or discourse, and that is the role of our news media. And the way that our news media contributes to and perpetuates what I believe is a toxic system. And that is not the fault of any particular individual, but it’s a systemic issue that I think is getting worse rather than better. I just wish there was some introspection within our media environment about its own role and what it contributes or detracts from in terms of political discourse.”

“It’s like a taboo subject, and it is not to be spoken about and when it is spoken about there are consequences and I certainly feel that I’ve been subject to some of those consequences.”

Unfinished business

So, what unfinished business does she have on the even of leaving?

Dunedin South MP Clare Curran speaks at a rally in Dunedin in support of the homeless. Photo: Stephen Jaquiery

She lists proper funding for public media (a long passion), and equitable digital access which she says Covid has shown us is “at the heart of equality”; and better, easier access to mental health care.

There is always more to do.

“It’s a mix of emotions when you leave a place like this because ...it’s a vocation rather than just a job. It doesn’t matter which party you belong to, I firmly believe that every parliamentarian does put their heart and soul into it. It’s a mixture of relief and I guess exhaustion and disappointment, and also hope that I leave with.”

But she judges her success or otherwise by the people.

“When people stop me in the street and say ‘thank you so much for the work that you’ve done and how you’ve helped our life’. Those are the things that I’ll take away with me.”