NZ Politics: a precarious symmetry

And what if there's a hung parliament?

They say that symmetry is attractive – but maybe not in politics.

Being now well past the half-way point in New Zealand’s parliamentary term, opinion polls are finely balanced, indicating a slim majority for one or other of two coalitions, or possibly a hung parliament. There are six parties represented in parliament, almost evenly distributed to left and right.

Each of the two major parties has two others with which they could form a governing coalition after the next election, if they get the numbers, based on the assumptions commonly made. The two agreements that form the present three-party coalition government apply only to the 54th parliament, however, and there are no formal pre-electoral coalition agreements between any of the three other parties.

How are the parties arranged, according to polls?

National and Labour are polling in the low- to mid-thirties, and neither consistently leads the other. Going by past results, each has a bedrock of 25 percent below which they’re unlikely to fall, so current polling may not be great for either, but it’s not as low as it could go.

Counting only the six parties currently in parliament, National and Labour get roughly two thirds of the support in opinion polls, and the remainder is shared between four others. The two “sidecar” parties in the current right-wing coalition (NZ First and ACT) are, in total, polling slightly higher on average than the two minor parties that oppose them (Green and TPM).

There no longer appears to be a centrist party that could coalesce with either major party – unless TOP can break through the MMP threshold at the next election. But TOP’s polling is currently below 5 percent.

Te Pāti Māori (TPM) and NZ First have, in the past, played a centrist role. TPM saw itself as “Treaty partner”, hence above the left/right ideological division. It once supported a National-led government (2008–17), but it’s hard to imagine them doing that in the foreseeable future. They now look completely incompatible with National.

NZ First has a history of supporting Labour-led and National-led governments. Ahead of the 2023 election, however, they pitched to a conservative audience fed-up with Covid policies and with so-called “wokeness”. They now look incompatible with Labour, although that could change. Winston Peters has been the past master of tactical ambiguity going into elections, refusing to say with whom he’d work in government. He may not do that in 2026, however, especially after he and Labour leader Chris Hipkins were so scathing of one another back in March. But, with Winston, you never can tell.

If things were to remain in the current, almost symmetrical, left/right balance (which they probably won’t), and with no party “in the middle”, then there wouldn’t be a “kingmaker” after the 2026 election: that is, no party would hold the balance of parliamentary power and shuttle between both major parties to negotiate a coalition agreement. Each of those four minor parties appears (at present) to be captive to one of the two majors.

Under these conditions, the three parties that form the government would be those towards which the greater number of persuadable voters decided to “swing”. Migration across the centre-line, one way or the other, would count most.

The two major parties dominate and compete for that centre ground. They may argue over tax policy, for example, but don’t expect radical ideas from them, as they aim for a notional “median voter”. The only competitor they have in the centre at the moment is TOP, which I assume for now won’t win any seats (with apologies to TOP supporters).

If these conditions persist, head-to-head debates between leaders of National and Labour will be critical campaign events. Constituents watching them and going “yeah nah” will hold a lot of power.

The four “sidecar” parties face different choices.

Either:

• Lean to “the far side” and stoke up some grievances. This can generate support from people who may otherwise have abstained in disgust or who may have “wasted” their votes on parties with no chance of winning a seat. NZ First took this approach in 2023, and TPM look set to do it in 2026.

Or:

• Compete with a major party for a more middle-of-the-road audience. This may not maximise votes for the coalition overall, but has greater numbers on offer and makes the party look more credible and safe as a prospective office-holder. Judging by NZ First’s recent polling, which appears to come at National’s expense, it looks like they’re now in this lane.

The Greens’ avowed aim to lead the Left implies the latter approach, but their commitment to socially progressive issues is often more consistent with the former.

There’s also a wildcard option.

• A minor party does either of the two above, before the election, but then becomes a kingmaker after the election. NZ First did this in 1996. Before the election they were the anti-neoliberal party that would never work with National, but, after the election, they shuttled between Labour and National for a few weeks, eventually to form a coalition government with National. That led to a dramatic split within NZ First in 1998 and cost them dearly at the 1999 election.

Nonetheless, it pays to ask whether the wildcard might be played again. For example, if the election leaves neither of the presumed three-party coalitions with sufficient seats, NZ First could (in theory) cut a deal with Labour again, or (shock, horror) the Greens with National. It could always be dressed up as the “responsible” thing to do for the sake of stable government, and better than handing it back to voters to break the impasse. No party wants the blame for sending the country back to the polls, so that’s a strong incentive, in addition to office-holding, to figure out a governing arrangement.

Journalists shouldn’t assume that a “sidecar” party can’t be detached from the major party with which it’s normally associated at present. Asking leaders whether or not they “rule out working with” one party or another often makes things murkier for voters, not clearer. And it closes off options. The current assumptions about two three-party coalitions, as if they were the only options, could be loosened up a little.

Such speculation, however, may all be off the table if the voters break decisively in one direction or the other, shifting away from the present left/right symmetry, before the next election.

On the other hand, a so-called “hung” parliament, if it does happen, isn’t a problem if people use some common sense. If numbers in the House are balanced 60/60 between the two presumed coalitions, the obstacles to forming a government lie in the political imagination – or the lack of it.

Don’t blame MMP.

Many people don’t like it when a minor party is “the tail that wags the dog” – of which Winston Peters is leading practitioner. But a two-party system – notably the US’s – can suffer a similar problem: a big-tent party gets hijacked by a loud minority inside the tent, and the moderate majority are afraid to stand up to them. For the Republicans that’s been the role of the MAGA Right and for the Democrats the Woke Left (if I may use such hotly contested labels).

The advantage of proportional representation is that those minority factions spin off into separate parties, which makes their roles more transparent to the voters.

The voters elect their representatives. A majority of representatives form a government after the election.

In New Zealand, there are only loose guidelines about what happens when the election results make it uncertain who should form and lead the next government. The pathway from election night to the moment when a leader publicly confirms that he/she commands the majority in the House lacks clear signposts. In 2017, this meant that the leader of a party that had won only 7.2% of the vote was able to orchestrate the negotiation process as well as announce the outcome. Why on Earth did we let it happen that way?

One way around it would be to empower the Governor General to require that every party shall have sat down with every other party (at least once) before talks could be considered properly conducted and a fair conclusion achieved. A compulsory “round robin” of without-prejudice talks could commence even before the final election results are announced. In 2017, that would have meant, for instance, that the Greens would have played a more active role, and that Mr Peters would not have been conducting the orchestra. His tactic of going fishing for a couple weeks (up in the Northland seat that he’d just lost) while he waited for the final results would not have been such a smart plan for him.

The media pack habitually hound party leaders to declare whether or not they’ll “rule out working with” certain other parties. If, in a situation of post-electoral uncertainty, all parties would be required to hold initial discussions with all other parties, the leaders would find it easier to kick that (often unhelpful) question into touch. (“Yes, I will pick up the phone to… and talk about talks.”)

If the voters deliver an uncertain outcome, then all options should be explored, in the interests of stability and political consensus-building.

• This normal distribution was produced by ChatGPT. It’s not to be taken literally, however.