A little further on politics and our general "AI" election

The other day I had an opportunity to hear from one of the leaders of our political parties contesting the imminent general election in our country (7 November 2026). For the purposes of this post it doesn't matter which leader or which political party.

The talk I heard reminded me of days of yore - the 1970s, before social media - when to get the real oil from politicians you needed to go to a town hall or community hall in person to hear them speak in person. No sound bites reproduced in a tweet or Facebook post - a good solid 30 minutes plus of high class oratory. In my memory both Bill Rowling and Rob Muldoon were excellent orators. (For overseas readers, these two were respectively leaders of the two main, and opposing parties of those days, Labour and National.)

What struck me, listening to a well delivered speech with interesting content, was how persuasive it all seemed. By the end of the speech I had just about convinced myself I could cast my vote accordingly ... which definitely reminded me of the 1970s when I would hear a great speech or read a book by a leading politician and it would all seem very convincing. Except that in the voting booth I needed to choose one convincing party programme over another! What to do, then and now?

In the end, on further reflection after the recent, persuasively delivered speech, I am not convinced that some policy proposals (and consequential promises of a better life for us Kiwis) stack up. Change proposed to make for less expensive household bills - maybe, maybe not - there are arguments for and against that are in the provenance of experts, not merely politicians harvesting votes. Spending money (which may be borrowed money) to save money, ditto. Looking back on my teenage less than well formed critical thinking, I didn't then have the capacity to assess content compared to rhetoric about what was being offered. If I have that capacity now it is enhanced by a much better grasp of the general principles of economics than I had in those days. (Disclaimer: I know more than I knew then, and I think better than I thought then, but that doesn't mean I have nothing more to learn or no further progress needing to be made on my thinking capabilities.)

Capacity to critically think about things is a refreshed issue for this election, not only because of the variety of policy proposals and promises of good times ahead "if you vote for us, because we will ..." but because this election is the first election in the era when AI is now itself a promise delivered and a harbinger ahead of ... good times? Bad times? World control? Mass unemployment?

Wherever we may go in this AI era, and whatever policies are on offer re AI (including our commitment to develop or restrain establishment of data centres), it would be good to have a policy on educational development of critical thinking!

The Anglican connection to these musings is that both our General Synod and our Diocesan Synod have recentl commissioned working groups to do some work on what AI means for and within the life of the church.

This post is all my own work :).

Thoughts on our election coming up

I have a natural-and-episcopal interest in the forthcoming NZ general election (7 November 2026). The "natural" bit is that I have always been interested in politics, the "episcopal" bit is because our Cathedral ReOpen Project is looking for $15m of further funding commitment in order for us to re-open our cathedral's nave, tower and west porch. With such commitment, we begin construction again, without it, well, we have some difficult conversations ahead of us. 

One possibility for a further commitment of required funds lies with Winston Peters and the New Zealand First party who have pledged to bring support for $15m of central government funding for the project to the coalition negotiating table if they are invited to that table. Pretty much every political set of tea leaves points to that invitation only occurring if the "centre right" gets to form the table of negotiation. If the "centre left" gets to form the table, they will not need to invite NZ First to discussions about the formation of a new government.

To date, the polls undertaken by different polling entities seem united in their refusal to offer a clear prediction of the winning left or right combo, so it looks like the only thing to do is to be patient, wait quietly (both Christians virtues!) and turn on the television and/or radio on the night of 7 November. Of course it is possible that by the end of that evening, the results might be still too close to call - special votes to be counted over the next couple of weeks etc. More patient waiting required! If NZ First does get to the table of negotiation it could be weeks (or weeks and weeks) until clarity emerges about what, from each party's policy wish list, has crossed the line into common policy for the new government. More patient waiting required.

For clarity, this post is not intended to persuade you to vote for any party in the election, not even for NZ First. But please vote. I do think not voting at all hands decision-making to others. In a democracy every citizen should weigh matters up and vote so the end result represents the influence of all citizens. I understand that there is no perfect party for everyone, and often that lack of perfection is keenly felt by Christians (How can I vote for the party with the best economic credentials when it also supports, say, a more liberal abortion law?). But politics is the art of compromise and just sometimes Christians ought to compromise - voting in a general election or a local body election is one of those "sometimes."

What is at stake in our coming election? Quite a lot, as it happens, though perhaps we would say that about every election. Here is a not-comprehensive list: 

- the economy (what can we afford by way of priorities in health, welfare, education, defence, social services (including police, corrections)? We currently borrow money to pay for things and tax ourselves to pay for things: could we borrow more? Should we borrow less? Ditto, tax more, tax less?); 

- the economy (how do we lift productivity, something many economic pundits (from all sides) observe is that NZ has scarcely lifted productivity in recent decades, and one explanation for our sliding descent down various rankings of OECD nations is due to this lack of decent productivity lift?); 

- the economy (what is the right level of commitment to the things government (assisted by the tax payer and borrowings) pays for? To take an extreme, presumably we could pay for the most advanced level of healthcare in the world, including the most expensive treatments for cancers if we canned all superannuation payments ... but no one is going to vote for that, but we (rightly) argue what level of healthcare should be provided and whether superannuation at current settings is affordable as we look ahead with precise predictions re population of seniors increasing etc!);

- the economy (what does the Treaty of Waitangi mean in respect of how we live in partnership, Maori and Pakeha, with observable economic disparities between Maori and Pakeha, one example of which is that if the age of superannuation was lifted, even fewer Maori would get to enjoy superannuated older age).

OK - a bit of bias here - I think politics is heavily inter-connected with economics! We look to the government to do things for us (as individuals, as communities, as Maori/Pakeha, men/women, seniors/youth/children, school leavers and graduates looking for work, city dwellers/rural dwellers, etc/etc) but nearly everything we seek costs $$$. More schools, $$$. More teachers in existing schools, $$$. School lunches, $$$. You get my drift.

In this election, each party (I notice) is offering to do things, things that cost $$$, and more (or less) giving some kind of plausible account of how the $$$ will be found to do these things. What is arguably fascinating about this election is the strong sensitivity by all parties as to the economic situation we are in: parlous (there are not many spare $$$) and perilous (uncertainty about the global economic situation is high, very high as fuel prices surge, wars are fought and peace is avoided by certain leaders of nations not called Aotearoa New Zealand). No party is promising the earth, yet no party is promising an austerity pathway to new economic prosperity.

Of course other things are interesting about the election: neither Labour nor National seems able to command support consistently above 30%, and their combined totals on recent polls is the lowest ever for our two major parties. Does this betoken an interest in minor parties seemingly in common with what is happening in (say) Australia, UK, France, Germany? Or are the minor parties here (none of which, thankfully, is extreme as the extreme minor parties of afore-mentioned countries) showing policy boldness the two main parties ought to be showing? 

All will be revealed ... on, or after, 7 November 2026!

What kind of substance is Substance?

 Bosco Peters has posted an "essential" reading explanation of the meaning of "substance" in relation to "Transubstantiation", here.

Comments on his post should be made at his blog, not here. But I am glad to link to his post as clarity of thought on "substance" as well as on "real presence" can be lacking in discussion and debate on these matters in Anglican circles (and, as Bosco points out, Catholic circles also). The tendency is to fall prey to simplicity of thought in the face of a great mystery.

A few thoughts of my own:

- any account of the significance of the bread and wine of communion must account well for the "is" in "This is my body ... this is my blood" and do so with reference to the Synoptic and 1 Corinthians 11 accounts of the last supper, John 6 and the participatory language in 1 Corinthians 10. Broadly speaking "real presence" does this in a way which "memorialism" (all we are doing is remembering that Jesus died for us) or "representationism" (the bread represents the body of Christ etc) does not.

- there are "both/ands" involved in this mystery: Jesus is really present and (as Bosco notes) the bread and the wine are symbols - powerful symbols - and "representations" (in the sense of re-presenting to us the body and blood of Christ" and our participation matters (as those present at communion (with our bodies; together being "the body of Christ"), as those giving thanks in our hearts for what Jesus has done for us, as those eating the bread of communion and drinking the wine of communion by faith receiving these elements as the body and blood of Jesus).

The Cauldron - Simon Sebag Montefiore on the Middle East

Simon Sebag Montefiore The Cauldron: The Making of the Modern Middle East 1900-2026 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2026)

I was excited to see notice of this book, manoeuvred family affections to receive it as a gift for Father's Day, and now I have read it, have not been disappointed by it. 

Montefiore writes well, keeps sections of each chapter brief and to the point, and breathlessly flicks across those sections from one country to another as the tale of several empires, a dozen or so countries, many cities, and the fables of diverse emirs, imams, pashas, sultans, kings, presidents, plotters and premiers are told. 

Along the way we meet many a familiar terrorist and autocrat and learn the dangers of foreign interventionism by middling, large and super powers. With some rare and all too readily forgotten exceptions of peace and good-will periods, the Middle East (here meaning from Morocco to Iran, from Turkey to South Sudan) has been a cauldron for these past 127 years. There have been a lot of deaths, whether through war, massacre, genocide, or repression of protests. Has any single death or multiple set of deaths since 1900 brought lasting calm to the cauldron, let alone paved the way for peace in the next few years? It appears not, is one conclusion to draw from the book.

Also along the way, we may learn some new information, as I did, when I read (p. 148) that the British in 1946, via foreign secretary Bevin, described as a "splenetic Jew-hater", for a final time 

"offered Palestinian Arabs an independent Palestine with no Jewish state." 

An offer in 1939 had also been made by the Brits. That is, when the current State of Israel in some conversations I listen into is described as an outcome of (once again) British colonization of a foreign land, there was, in fact, a different British-led outcome possible for the Arabs of Palestine. The response?

"The mufti, who had narrowly escaped prosecution as a Nazi war criminal, still controlled the Palestinian Arab delegation and again he refused an independent Palestine." 

No doubt the mufti had his reasons but I am left with the question, how might the anguish we experience today over the course of current destructive events in Gaza and the West Bank be so very different if this offer had been taken up?

The story of the wider Middle East through these past 127 years is a story of many deaths, much heartbreak, oppressive rulers, malignant imperial ambitions (not only held by Britain, France, Russia and the USA ... hello Turkey, Iran, Egypt, Libya, Saudi Arabia, Syria and Israel), opportunities taken and opportunities turned down, and extremism, both the extreme wealth for some that oil has made available and the extreme positions held by some followers of major faiths. In Montefiore's telling there is nevertheless some reason for hope for a better future than the history of these past years implies: the fanatics of religious sects, with their "alien new ideologies" are not actually recognised by the majority of Middle Eastern peoples for whom their faith has taught them "loving kindness" and who not "invested in [the fanatics'] cycles of butchery, bigotry and ideology." (p. 422)

Nevertheless the challenge is to convert hope to lasting peaceful reality. That conversion is not in sight but Montefiore rightly observes the importance of the majority finding a way to better understand one another:

"Ignorance is the father of righteous certainty, hatred and slaughter; knowledge is the mother of respect for others, alliance, sharing and tolerance. Knowledge is an elixir, the antidote to the poisons of supremacy, bigotry and ignorance. Peace is only possible when a majority in any society hears and accepts the narrative of others. That is the mission of this book." (p. 422)

I would add to this charter for the way forward the importance of forgiveness. The Cauldron recites again and again the pain and loss experienced by many people, injury and devastation which fuels bitterness and has led to multiple quests for revenge and retribution. There is, when all is said and done, only one way to break cycles of violence motivated by past crimes against humanity and historic losses of life and land: to forgive one another.

With respect to the foremost conflict which drives our Western interest in the Middle East, and likely motivates readers here to buy this book or borrow it from a local library, conflict in the Holy Land and conflict about the Holy Land, Montefiore makes the astute observation that current interest 

"is now so intense and widespread that Israel-Palestine has literally become a domestic issue in many parts of Europe and North America ... [It] is just the latest chapter in the West's strange proprietorial interest in the Holy Land that started in the late first millennia after Christ and is still going strong. Between 1914 and the 2000s, this spirit worked in favour of a Jewish state; in the last twenty years, the same obsession has inverted against it. The emotive, ideological campaign to replace the Judaic republic with a state of Palestine is ostensibly secular but often has the feel of a religious movement, even a crusade." (p. 420)

Where to from here for the Holy Land? Even as I have been reading the book these past few weeks, the destructive vindictiveness of the extremist-led Israeli government has killed more Palestinians and stolen more land. It is difficult if not impossible to see a pathway to peace for the Holy Land, to keep hope alive for a viable future for two distinct peoples. It remains the cauldron within The Cauldron.

What encourages me?

All sorts of things encourage me, but I think one of the most encouraging things for me as bishop (i.e. a person with particular worries and concerns - :) - about how some 54 ministry units in a diocese are doing at any one time) is news of (or first hand experience of) growth and development and/or new people joining our ministry units and/or strong ministry units continuing to be strong, if not growing from strength to strength.

Yesterday, I went to a service in one of our churches, arriving as morning tea between two services was being served. What a buzz there was. And, what a lot of new faces. The new faces are being noticed - parishioners told me about what they themselves are seeing as new people arrive week after week. There was a definite shout out by parishioners who talked to me to an emphasis through past months on the parish prayer meeting Encouragement number 1 for the day.

Encouragement number 2 came later in the day, with several reports of an excellent special youth-led service in another ministry unit. 25 young people present, 25 children present.

Praise the Lord! Thank you, God!

Yes, there is a lot going on around the Anglican world to discourage us (I am choosing not to link to various sad stories, but you can find them: thanks Google AI), or, looking more secularly, a lot in the general world this week to disturb us, measured in part by fuel prices zooming upwards again.

But how exciting to see that in the midst of toils and troubles, God is at work in people's hearts, and, in the mercy of God, some of those people being moved by God inwardly are finding themselves moving outwardly towards our ministry units.

Kororia ki Te Atua.

Pointing to Taonga

Still short of time. A lot is going on, including a tangihanga at Te Pa o Te Hui Amorangi o Te Waipounamu, Christchurch. So, let's head to Taonga and let some reports there do the talking for Anglicans living Down Under this week.

A very important change at our recent General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui was made to our Title D - canon on ministry standards. This article is a great introduction to the change - a change which does need explaining to our church, to laity and to clergywith appropriate supportive training/education.

Two notable women in our church have died recently, Margaret Bedggood and Huia Tahere. I have been privileged to know each of them a little - and the local tangihanga is for Huia Tahere. Dr Jenny Te Paa offers a tribute to each of them here.

Our recent Synod grappled with a motion concerning Israel/Gaza/West Bank and, in the end, did not vote to pass it. General Synod/Te Hinota Whanui in Tonga also grappled with a motion and passed it. Arguably, the latter offered better balance than the former re the nuanced challenge of condemning evil on all sides of the conflict in the Middle East, including the evil spilling over into the wider world per increased anti-semitism and lack of safety for Jews. 

My point here is not to recite either motion or to analyse details in each motion but to note here that Anglicans Down Under are concerned about what is happening in Israel/West Bank/Gaza. Anglican Taonga, for instance, notes (via this article in the Middle East Monitor) a recent inhibition by Israel of Christian teachers. Even in the last week, news reports continue to add one bleak picture after another of Israel proactively making life horrible for Palestinians. Can anything be done?

Our Synod - my Address

For those interested in my Presidential Address to our annual synod, which took place at the end of last week, you may read it here.

PS In the wisdom of diary-setters, my immediate post-Synod life has led me to Auckland for three days of meetings; and the end of this week involves further travel. Not every week is like this. But this week, assessing its particular "tempus fugit," I am making this briefest of posts, and it is posted two days late according to my intention to post on Mondays. My hope for next week is better chronological things :).