BY STEWART SLATER

New Zealand does not, let us admit, get much attention. Too small, too stable (Mark Lawson started his excellent travelogue All the Safe Places there) and just too distant, it is a far-off country of which we are content to know little. It is a land which enters our consciousness mainly as a source of wine and film locations and as the answer to that perennial question, “What would happen if you managed to house-train the Australians?”

All that changed (briefly) with the resignation of Jacinda Ardern, which was covered across the world. Such attention was, probably, disproportionate. If Margaret Thatcher was “a first rate figure of the second rank” due to Britain’s relative lack of power, then Ms Ardern was several rungs below her. This is not her fault – one can only generally be leader of one’s own country and if one is born in one of the world’s smaller states, there is a hard limit above which one’s historical importance cannot rise.

Lee Kuan Yew was almost certainly a greater man than Ronald Reagan but history will spend much more time on the Gipper because governing America at the Cold War was a more significant global achievement than building modern Singapore.

For those who can utter the phrase, “Yass, Kween. Slaaay!” without embarrassment, though, Ardern’s departure was a tragedy, the final bow of an exemplar of servant leadership. Her admission that she no longer had “enough in the tank” was an inspiring if all too rare example of honesty and self-knowledge in politics. Those of a different political hue pointed to the imminent election and her poor ratings and decided that she had bugged out before a humiliating loss dented her image and earning power. Her turn of phrase was not the homespun wisdom of a humble leader, but a shameless knock-off of one of her predecessors. 

Much of this can be ascribed to pure political partisanship. Those who take her words at face value might profitably ponder how they would react to the same phrases coming from the mouth of Donald Trump, while those who see them as a face-saving smokescreen might ask how they would treat the same statement (with the addition, no doubt, of some classical allusions) from Boris Johnson.

But partisanship is driven by something deeper, and Ardern provides a particularly good example of it.

It is increasingly accepted in social psychology that all moral systems show regard for the same core values. While there is debate over how many there are (somewhere between five and seven probably) and how they arose (are they really just ways of promoting the cooperation that was vital for the survival of a tribal species in a hostile world?), there is ever less doubt that all of humanity shares the same moral inclinations.

Jonathan Haidt, who invented the “Moral Foundations” version of the theory, argues that political beliefs lie downstream from moral intuitions and the political divide can be explained by different approaches to morality which may ultimately have a basis in genetics – your opponents are not, generally, wrong or evil, they are just different. Of the five Foundations Haidt recognises, those on the left show deep concern for two (Care and Fairness) while paying little attention to the remaining three (Loyalty, Authority and Sanctity). Those on the right show concern for all, but to a lesser extent, while those of a libertarian bent are similar to their conservative peers but have an out-sized interest in the proposed sixth Foundation, Liberty. To the left, one can be a good person by showing concern for Care and Fairness and ignoring the other Foundations, while to the right, that status can only be won by paying attention to all.

Ardern’s reputation has been based on tickling the left’s moral erogenous zone by loudly and consistently touting her commitment to caring (her last words at her press conference were “Be kind”, that dread modern mantra I have discussed elsewhere). The Guardian praises her “empathy, humanity and kindness”, referencing her actions after the 2019 shooting in Christchurch where she donned a hijab and hugged a woman at the targeted mosque. The same article makes much of her emotional intelligence before describing as “extraordinary” her reaction to the pandemic which saw strict lockdowns accompanied by the closure of the country’s borders, a policy mix described by others as the strictest outside China. To those who value Care above all else, however, there was no doubt that, in contrast to Boris “let it rip” Johnson and others, she was one of them and her willingness to impose draconian measures to look after her citizens only proved how much she cared, cementing her place in the progressive pantheon of political stars.

Others, and not just the “muh freedom” libertarian caucus, were less certain. While New Zealand has a low death toll, it is unclear how much of this is due to its relative lack of global links. Like China, the country was forced to abandon its “elimination” strategy when it proved unworkable and the vaccine roll-out was comparatively sluggish. Beyond the suppression of the virus, there is no doubt that strict lockdowns and isolation caused other harms, educational, economic and social. A politician with a broader frame of moral reference might have paid more attention to other concerns such as maintaining family links. To those on the right, with their concern for all Foundations, it is easy to see Ardern as caring, but harder to see her as good.

Even on the left, however, there were qualms in some quarters. Spitting Image, never knowingly right-wing, parodied her as a self-satisfied Mary Poppins, ending the sketch with her decapitating a suspected Covid case. Her belief that she was kind, empathetic and caring ultimately led her to policy choices which became none of them.

C.S. Lewis wrote, “those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.”

There can be little doubt that Ardern believed (and probably still does) that she was acting in her country’s interests, but her willingness to go to extremes demonstrates the risk of electing politicians who have a strong conviction of their own rectitude. They ignore reasonable opposition, believing that, since they are good, it must be ill-intentioned. With a narrow frame of moral reference, they are blind to a range of consequences others find damaging. They find it too easy to go too far and too hard to stop.

The Guardian may see her as a “compelling poster child for progressive politics” but for others she is a warning of the risks of electing politicians who think too highly of themselves. “Virtue”, as Adam Smith put it. “Is more to be feared than vice.”

Stewart Slater works in Finance. He invites you to join him at his website.