The Christchurch Civic Creche Case

News Reports Index

2003 Oct-Dec



Sunday Star Times
October 5, 2003

Keeping a low profile

While most of our leading parliamentarians are hard-working there are some who keep their heads down and say little. Jonathan Milne asks 10 of our most invisible MPs what they do for a living.

Clem Simich is a familiar figure around parliament - courteous, gentlemanly, shuffling along the corridor with his head down so one is met by his bald head.

"Good afternoon," he mumbles from under his moustache. He is always ready to hold the door open for others rushing more hastily than he up and down the red-carpeted hallways.

That is not all he does - but it would seem almost that way from statistics collated by the Sunday Star-Times on our MPs' performances.

Simich is one of a number of MPs who rarely appear in the national media, rarely seek any attention, stay quiet in the debating chamber and seem content to let the public forget they exist.

This year, Simich has not stood up in parliament to ask a question, has not filed a written question with a minister about a constituent's concerns, has issued no media statements and has rarely been approached by journalists.

And that's how he likes it.

In the years since replacing Rob Muldoon as member for Tamaki in a 1992 by-election, he has served as police minister and has in latter years emerged as a well-liked elder statesman of the House of Representatives.

That status saw the National MP appointed last year as an assistant speaker, taking a turn in Jonathan Hunt's chair when neither Hunt, Anne Hartley, nor Ross Robertson are available.

Suffice to say, nobody in National has expressed to this paper dismay at the loss of Clem Rudolph Simich's political clout in the debating chamber. He was never a hard- hitter.

In the past, the public was able to judge which MPs were too lazy to represent them in the debating chamber, with the Office of the Clerk keeping records on how often MPs actually turned up. No longer.

After the Alamein Kopu embarrassment, when it emerged that the Alliance MP had attended only 16 of parliament's first 47 sitting days, the office handed over the record-keeping responsibility to individual parties. Unsurprisingly, most parties see little benefit in keeping such potentially damaging data.

However, the Star-Times has collated data on how many primary oral questions, supplementary questions and written questions have been asked this year by each MP, excluding ministers. The paper has also analysed the number of press releases each has issued, and the number of times each name has figured in New Zealand's main newspapers.

The 10 MPs who show least evidence of sweating for their pay have different excuses: Maurice Williamson and Donna Awatere Huata are not allowed to ask questions or speak in parliament after their parties suspended them. Most of the new NZ First MPs are kept on a tight leash by leader Winston Peters, who has first dibs on questions and speeches in parliament. Others say they are still learning the ropes, or are busy with their electorates.

Don Brash is a new MP who has worked hard, made an impact, and is already reading about his National Party leadership aspirations on the front page of the morning papers.

While loath to name names, he agrees that some of the NZ First backbenchers are making little public impact.

"I suspect that if you are a list MP in a small party with a relatively undemanding policy responsibility, you may be able to just work nine to five.

"In some cases there is clearly work going on behind the scenes, in some cases there clearly is not."

Brash says he worked hard as governor of the Reserve Bank - but as an MP the hours are longer, there are more nights away from his family, and he counts himself very lucky if he gets an hour or two off on Sunday.

"I don't know if that's just because I'm a new chum, learning the ropes ... I think it's probably quite a culture shock for some. It was less so for me, because I've been round the Wellington scene for 14 years."

Prime Minister Helen Clark is another notorious workaholic, leaving journalists panting to keep up as she rushes from meeting to function to engagement from dawn until late at night.

Simich says it's not so easy being low-profile though.

He has to spend six to eight hours a week in the chair of the debating chamber, responsible for rulings such as deciding that Judith Tizard was allowed to knit in the house, but not while in the minister's chair.

Though he is National's spokesman on the office of the attorney-general, he says his role as assistant speaker prevents his entering into any controversy. Controversial issues in Simich's portfolio, such as replacing the Privy Council with a Supreme Court, have been handled by other MPs.

He is somewhat of an enigma: last year one paper named him as a plotter backing a Gerry Brownlee leadership coup; this year another named him as firmly backing English, and a few days later a third paper named him as a member of the "soft" English camp. For the record, he is not saying where his allegiances lie.

As police minister he supported decriminalising marijuana, he supports getting rid of the nuclear-powered ships ban, he signed the Peter Ellis petition, and he was one of only six National MPs to vote for prostitution law reform this year. He holds electorate clinics most Mondays and Fridays, depending on demand: he will listen to lobbyists' demands, try to address tenants' concerns with state housing or immigrants' difficulties getting permanent residence.

"List MPs have it on a plate," he says. "Their sole purpose is to get into power, and the only way to do it is to campaign non-stop. They don't service any people in electorates unless that person can give them coverage.

"The ones that have no seats at all like Act, the Greens, and pretty much Peter Dunne's party and Winston's - free as a bird. They don't have any of that work to do and they don't do it."

And so today, Clem Simich will change out of the "jeans and tatty jacket" he wears around his electorate, and put on his dark suit for a six-hour meeting with the Indian community, where he will sit quietly and listen. "I don't hanker after a profile, unless it does the party good. And nothing would have done the party any good in the past three years, but we have been working very hard to put things together."