Shane Te Pou: Living thousands of miles from home can be tough.

Living thousands of miles from home can be tough.

I miss my whānau. I miss my mates. I miss those kōrero around the kitchen table that keep us all connected.

But this election feels different for another reason. For the first time, both my kids are old enough to vote.

That’s pretty exciting, and it’s already given us a few laughs.

My daughter said to me recently, “Dad, I could never vote ACT or National. Koro Grennie would roll over in his grave.”

“Yeah,” I said, “that’s probably true.” Then I told her something my father used to say: the only truly independent decision you make in your life is how you vote.

I’m not sure she quite got what I meant. Maybe one day she will.

Watching your kids reach that age makes you think about what voting really means. It’s not about doing what your parents did, or what your mates do, or what people expect of you. It’s about making your own call. That’s a pretty special thing.

I’m a political junkie. And if I’m honest, what I really miss right now is being on the ground during a campaign.

It hit me the other day while I was having a kōrero with a journo mate. I first got stuck in as a 17-year-old back in 1984–85, and this is the first election since then that I haven’t been involved in somehow.

I’ve been a candidate, and got a proper hiding from old Bill Birch. I’ve been a campaign manager, with a few wins and a few losses along the way. That’s life. And over the last two election cycles, I’ve been deep in the media side of things.

That’s where you really learn about people. You pick up plenty from chats with other journos, and from those green room conversations with politicians and candidates. Some of them are awkward as. Some are gold.

Quick story. A former New Zealand First candidate was running a new party, mostly based around the Bay of Plenty, and he was convinced he’d pick up 10 seats. He was off in la-la land. But that’s the green room for you. Some good info, some wacko info, and all of it interesting and good fun.

The real sense of what’s happening, though, comes from the conversations in between the conversations. If you know, you know.

So even from the other side of the world, I’ve kept my ear to the ground. And I’ll be straight with you: for a while there, I was worried about Labour.

Policies were coming out, but they didn’t feel connected. It looked like a small-target campaign. Don’t frighten the horses, don’t hand the other side any ammunition, and hope voters get sick of the Government.

That can work. But it’s a risky way to run an election.

I saw it up close in the United States, on the ground in swing states where every vote mattered. The Democrats struggled to tell people what they were voting for, not just what they were voting against. I don’t want Labour making the same mistake.

Over the last few weeks, though, I’ve changed my tune. The pieces are coming together.

Part of that is the people.

I recently watched a clip of Arena Williams taking on a senior National minister. She got her facts across without sounding rehearsed or robotic. She listened, she connected, and she had just the right touch of humour. You don’t have to turn every exchange into a cage fight. She’s also been doing the hard yards on supermarket competition and grocery prices. Knowing your policy and being able to communicate it is exactly what you want in the next generation.

Then there’s Sophie Handford in the new Kāpiti electorate. Her campaign is rooted in her community: housing, infrastructure, small business and transport. She’s building something with the community, not campaigning at it.

It’s not rocket science. Turn up. Listen. Know your patch. Do the mahi.

Max Harris is standing in Tāmaki, which isn’t easy territory for Labour. People I hear from there, including some who aren’t traditional Labour voters, talk about his energy and how well he listens. What really stands out, though, is his ability to explain complicated things simply. That’s harder than it sounds. It tells you he actually understands the policy rather than reciting talking points. Add empathy, knowing why the detail matters in someone else’s life, and you’ve got a genuine communicator.

Mananui Ramsden in Te Tai Tonga. Again, very impressive. He has a real knack for connecting with people, and I’m hearing he’s running a strong ground game. In a seat as big as Te Tai Tonga, that’s no small thing. With the Te Pāti Māori vote as fractured as it is, I reckon he’s got a decent chance of taking the seat, and recent polls have him ahead.

If Labour wants a broad coalition, it needs people who can reach beyond the Labour bubble. Arena, Sophie, Max and Mananui are doing exactly that.

The policy story is sharpening too. Strengthening KiwiSaver, with employer contributions eventually reaching 6 per cent. Cracking down on price gouging by big companies. Tackling grocery prices and competition. An AI plan. A big programme to get building again, including houses, schools and hospitals, along with more jobs and apprenticeships. And now a proposal to cut student debt for eligible Kiwis who stay home.

On their own, they’re quite different. Together, they tell a story. Yes, it’s about the cost of living, but it’s also about decent jobs, building things again, saving for retirement and getting ready for the economy our kids will inherit.

Most people aren’t talking about fiscal anchors over dinner. They’re worrying about the mortgage, the supermarket bill, getting the kids in to see a doctor, and whether they’ll ever be able to retire.

That’s where good politics starts.

Timing matters too. Election day is November 7. The New Zealand Election Study has found that plenty of voters decide late. One analysis puts it at around one in five making up or changing their minds in the final week. A lot of Kiwis are only just tuning in.

From what I’m hearing, the energy on the ground is real. Candidates are knocking on doors, sitting down for a cuppa and listening. That still counts for more than any clever ad.

It doesn’t mean Labour will win. That’s up to voters. But it’s a good sign.

One thing still bugs me, and that’s money. Labour won’t match the financial firepower behind National, ACT and New Zealand First. Those big donations are legal, but we should be asking whether the rules are good enough. New Zealand is too small for our democracy to depend on who has the deepest pockets.

A month ago, I wasn’t convinced Labour was giving people enough reason to vote for them. I feeling better now they are offering a genuine choice, and that’s what an election should be about.

I’d give anything to be back home, out on the doors with them.

But even from here, I can tell you this: the mahi is well and truly under way.

Shane Te Pou is a political commentator and Māori broadcaster. It is TDBs privilege to platform his political analysis for the Election.