Mr Trotters Speech 1

In one sense that is very good news for NZUSA. It shows that your national organisation has become a
permanent fixture in the array of interest groups with which the New Zealand State must negotiate.
Yes, that’s right, you are up there with Federated Farmers and the Plunket Society.
From my own perspective, however, that gap of 22 years covers a period in New Zealand history
during which much of what made this country a uniquely positive place in which to live has
disappeared, or changed beyond all recognition.
What I say to you today is, therefore, being communicated across a great abyss of experience and
expectation. For you are, indeed, the children of the Rogernomics Revolution, and I am an overweight
and ageing survivor of the ancien regime.
Let me describe a little of the country I lived in when last I spoke to NZUSA – not merely for
nostalgia’s sake – but because I believe it will help to place in context the challenges that face the
present generation of student politicians; challenges which, rest assured, constitute the substance of my
address to you today.
In 1981 tertiary education was almost entirely subsidised by the state. Sure, there were a number of
token payments at the commencement of every year, the largest of which, I seem to recall, was my
studass fees, but, by and large, my tuition costs – and a respectably large chunk of my living expenses –
were paid for by the State.
The State itself was much larger then - employing between a quarter and a third of the entire
workforce. It owned two of the country’s largest banks, all of its telecommunications network, its
airlines, its railways, its biggest bus service, a shipping line, its entire electricity generation system, its
largest construction force, most of its forests, a chain of tourist hotels, all of its television networks,
nearly all of its radio stations, a weekly newsmagazine, thousands of rental properties, and a host of
other services which I have forgotten. Capitalism existed in New Zealand, but only on terms
established by the New Zealand people in the wake of a protracted global depression and a genocidal
world war.
But the thing that I remember most vividly about the world before Rogernomics is that people had
much more time.
New Zealanders back then did not live to work, they worked to live. Unless you were employed by an
emergency service – or the corner dairy – you had the weekend off.
For two whole days every week the entire economy virtually shut down. And if the Boss wanted you to
work more than eight hours in a single day during the week – Boy, did the trade unions make him pay.
Time-and-a-half, double-time, and on public holidays – triple time.
If you were lucky enough to get a holiday job in a hospital over Christmas-New Year, you could earn a
normal week’s wages in less than 16 hours.
And if you grew tired of your job, if you got bored with the routines of office or factory, you simply
jacked it in. Full employment meant that you could step out of the workforce whenever you felt like it –
take time out to go fishing, or tramping, or go in search of the big OE in Australia, London or