Another day, another soft PR piece dressed up as journalism

This time, we’re told that rising fuel costs are causing anxiety among rural Maori, and that Māori communities are stepping up with collective solutions: shared transport, local work hubs, coordinated support for the elderly.

I’m talking about Mihingarangi Forbes’ “interview” with Debbie Ngarewa-Packer, reported on rnz.co.nz.

All of that is normal, practical, commendable, and very eN-Zed. Nothing much to see here.

But let’s cut through the sentimentality and ask the harder question:

Why are (all) New Zealanders in this position in the first place?

The Price Shock Wasn’t Inevitable

We’re encouraged to see high fuel prices as some kind of unavoidable global tide. Something distant. Something no one here could influence.

That’s simply not true.

New Zealand didn’t just end up heavily dependent on imported oil, we chose it.

Successive governments shut down or constrained domestic energy development, particularly oil, gas, and coal. Jacinda Ardern, Chris Hipkins… we’re talking about you… Exploration bans, regulatory pressure, and political hostility to traditional energy sources all played their part.

The result? We are now more exposed to global price shocks than we needed to be.

This is not progress. It’s policy failure.

And it’s a failure with a historical echo. The oil shocks of the 1970s exposed exactly this kind of vulnerability. Back then, the response, however controversial, was driven by one clear goal: resilience.

Today, we’ve walked straight back into the same trap.

Where Is the Accountability?

Here’s what’s missing from these interviews: scrutiny.

No serious challenge. No probing of how we got here. No attempt to connect today’s hardship with yesterday’s decisions.

Instead, we get agreement. Empathy. Nodding along. Soft sweet hmms and aahs… bucolic, when vitriolic would be appropriate.

That’s not journalism, it’s rolled iats with no salt. Bland pap.

A competent interviewer might ask:

  • Did policies restricting domestic energy increase dependence on imports?
  • Are current price pressures partly self-inflicted?
  • What trade-offs were knowingly made?

But those questions don’t get asked because they’re uncomfortable and they don’t match the Maoro ‘journalism agenda’, you lnow, the big fat money bribe given by… Jacinda’s mob.

The Ethnicity Frame Is a Distraction

And then there’s the framing.

Once again, we’re invited to see this issue through an ethnic lens, focused on Māori experiences, Māori responses, Māori anxiety.

But here’s the reality:

Fuel prices do not care who you are.

They hit:

  • The single parent in South Auckland
  • The farmer in Southland
  • The tradie in Tauranga
  • The pensioner in Palmerston North

Different people, different backgrounds  same problem. But that wasn’t in the Maoro Journalism Agreement  was it Jacinda?

Yes, some communities organise collectively. That’s admirable. But let’s not pretend the underlying issue is cultural.

It’s economic.

The real dividing lines are brutally simple:

  • Income
  • Location
  • Cost of living pressure

Not ethnicity.

What This Framing Gets Wrong

By narrowing the conversation to identity, we dilute the real issue.

We stop asking:

  • Why energy has become so expensive
  • Why New Zealand is so exposed
  • Who made the decisions that led here

And instead, we focus on who is feeling the impact, as if that impact isn’t universal.

It’s a convenient shift. It avoids accountability. It keeps the conversation safe. And politically divisive.

The Reality

People are struggling because energy is expensive.

Energy is expensive, in part, because of political decisions.

And those decisions are rarely interrogated in the kind of coverage we’re seeing here.

So instead of a serious national conversation about energy security and economic resilience, we get human-interest angles and selective framing.

Final Thought

Community ingenuity is not the story.

It’s the symptom.

The real story is how a country rich in energy options made itself more dependent, more vulnerable, and more exposed—and how few people in positions of influence seem willing to say that out loud.

Until that changes, expect more of the same: Higher costs. Softer interviews. And a public conversation that carefully avoids the uncomfortable truth.

And let’s not forget, both these people, interviewer and interviewee are paid by taxpayers. And paid in the hundreds of thousands. They should be ashamed.


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