This article was first published by RNZ.
During Question Time on Wednesday, MPs in the House argued at length about something usually hidden from view.
The to-and-fro was pretty fascinating for political geeks, but it was also full of lessons. It illustrated aspects of how Question Time is prepared, how it works, the political considerations that can feed into that – and showed how not to answer a question.
How not to answer a question
A question began all of this. It was not in the House. It was from Stuff reporter Glenn McConnell on Parliament’s Tiles on Tuesday. He was asking National’s Tama Potaka (Associate Minister Housing - Social Housing) about homelessness. Specifically, about data suggesting no one knew the housing status of one in five children previously in emergency housing.
The crucial section was this:
McConnell – “Are you worried that some are now homeless?”
Potaka – “No, no, I’m not worried that some are now homeless… .”
Potaka’s answer was much longer but he had already lost control of the narrative, which was now ‘minister not worried that children are homeless’.
This is one reason politicians seldom answer the question they are asked, but instead ignore its premise and offer their own. It stops them accidentally creating a horrible soundbyte.
It wasn’t surprising that, on Wednesday, opposition parties were keen to ask questions on the topic. Both Labour and Green parties had questions scheduled.
Unwrecking a train
For the Greens, Tamatha Paul addressed Potaka’s poor choice of words.
“Does he stand by his statement relating to the drop in children living in emergency accommodation, “I’m not worried that some are now homeless”, and, if so, is that why funding for community housing providers has reduced to only 750 new places a year, under his Government?”
This time the Minister was ready. He began by trying to clear the previous day’s trainwreck from the tracks, before having a better crack at replacing it with his own narrative.
“In the context in which the question was asked, and in relation to Priority One, I am absolutely confident that those 1,110 children have been placed out of emergency housing and into a warm, safe, dry home between April and July. I am confident and very aware that they are no longer homeless … .”
He repeated the words ‘warm, dry, and safe’ multiple times across his answers – working to reinforce his own chosen message.
Negotiating Question Time
Of interest was that the exchange occurred at all. Labour’s Kieran McAnulty had also wanted to ask questions of Potaka, but his question had been transferred to a different National Party Minister.
Each of the twelve questions that make up Question Time are actually just the first of a series. That first or primary question is prepublished, but the supplementary questions are hidden.
The primary questions are pre-vetted against Parliament’s Standing Orders (the rules). The vetting is carried out by the clerks and ultimately the Speaker.
The Green Party’s primary question was aimed to only be applicable to Tama Potaka, but McAnulty’s was broad enough for Chris Bishop to be able to answer it instead.
Governments have the right to look at the twelve primaries slated for Question Time and say ‘your question to Minister X is going to be answered by Minister Y’.
This exchange is also negotiated, like the vetting; between the parties and the clerks. As it happens, The House hopes to sit in on that vetting session in the next few weeks.
There are various reasons a party might wish to transfer an answer to another minister: practicality (e.g. who is available), appropriateness (e.g. which minister is more responsible for what appears to be the topic), or politics (e.g. protecting a minister who is bad at answering). They cannot do it to hide information that only one minister is able to talk about.
Writing Question Time Questions is an art form, and you can see why many MPs choose utterly bland primary questions that are unlikely to run into such difficulties.
Getting away with making a fuss
McAnulty was unimpressed with the transfer, and attempted to relitigate that decision in the House. It was a tough task.
His attempt was over in a few seconds. He was obviously displeased, but he was also respectful. The Speaker reminded him that what he was doing could be considered questioning a ruling, but allowed it regardless. Questioning a speaker’s ruling is considered very naughty in the House. You can get kicked out for the day for that. Speakers don’t usually seem to mind a bit of respectful tussle, however.
Having failed, McAnulty decided the question he had prepared was now redundant, and chose to forgo the opportunity to ask it, at which point Chris Bishop got to his feet to do some cheeky grandstanding, seeking leave to ask himself the question, and answer it. The Speaker was unimpressed. Bishop’s kibitzing led to further points of order, and McAnulty was given a chance to make a fuller argument. The whole discussion took eight minutes.
If the Speaker was providing his National colleague a lesson, it was ‘if you’re already winning the argument, keep schtum’.
The Speaker’s position stayed the same second time through, though he did offer to let Labour keep that question until the following day and pose a new version of it then. Chris Bishop rose again to berate the Speaker.
“Because he can’t be bothered asking me the question, you’re going to give him a freebie?”
“Mr. Bishop, I’ve made a ruling. I’m not changing it.”
Bishop was possibly lucky not to be ejected from the House – a punishment I haven’t seen Speaker Brownlee dispense yet. Brownlee’s response was aimed at Bishop, but to some extent it applies to both MPs’ situations. Fighting a speaker’s ruling after-the-fact is a tough ask, but doing so without due respect is a hiding to nothing.
By Phil Smith of RNZ.
RNZ’s The House – journalism focused on parliamentary legislation, issues and insights – is made with funding from Parliament’s Office of the Clerk.