The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

While it may not have been Einstein that said it, however, the fact that it’s attributed to someone who literally changed the world at least in part enabled by a move from one political and social system to another one is interesting.

In my spare time, I’ve been thinking about all of the pundits who are suggesting ways that New Zealand (actually, not just New Zealand, but the world) can economically recover from Covid-19.

Firstly, I need to say that I’m a little nervous that the vast majority of those opinion pieces have come from well-meaning, but hugely privileged individuals. I’m also aware of the irony that me opining on anything is yet another example of a privileged white dude articulating his “reckons.” And so with that caveat, let’s get into it.

My good mate MOD, penned one of his always-entertaining OpEds this weekend. In it, he talks about his experience in lockdown, and the fact that, with good e-commerce availability, streaming video and the other essentials of life, it wasn’t so bad. Now MOD is a smart guy, who has a tonne of awareness and empathy for those less fortunate than him, so I’m not suggesting for a minute that his post is ignorant, but it does seem to be predicated on the perpetuation of a status quo: namely, that people will continue to be driven by the desire for luxuries they mistakenly consider necessities and, secondly, that the current model of consumption (where massive multi-nationals create the goods, often in low-cost economies, and then sell them at arms-length to consumers, will continue. It also misses the point of the 80% (or more) of people for whom ready availability of e-commerce and all the latest (and oldest) movies on Netflix isn’t important – for these people, it’s things like, you know, food and shelter that doesn’t come with the high likelihood of getting beaten up that tick the box.

As I said to a mate I was opining with on the Twitters, it feels a little bit like today’s version of Marie Antonette’s famous “let them eat cake” line. We (and buy we I mean the Western World which consumes the lion’s share of global resources, but does so while externalizing all the impacts of that consumption to some forgotten third-world backwater) are the aristocracy sitting inside the Palace of Versailles enjoying the luxury furnishing while, unbeknownst to us, the people are gathering outside, ready to storm.

Last week I wrote a critique of another well-meaning, but potentially misguided individual’s suggestion that the answer for New Zealand was to invite 50 or so billionaires down here to build mansions as a way of drumming up some dollars. The idea being that 50 people, each committing to buying $5M worth of land and building a $5M property on it quickly generates $5B worth of money in the system. And, as Keynes and his followers have been telling us forever, the trickle-down theory will mean that cash drives benefits for everyone in society. Or does it?

For this is where the disconnect between MOD’s experience of lockdown, the suggestions of those who have all the answers, and the reality on the ground happens. It’s also where we are fortunate that we have a leader like Jacinda Ardern who can articulate themes like kindness and empathy.

It strikes me that we’ve got a huge number of people who have built success off the back of this concentration of wealth and whose perspective is biased towards the status quo. And, like all people who have enjoyed success, it’s hard to think within the context of a different paradigm. And when that success is built off a system that sees financial distribution ever more inequitable distributed, you see successful people who have lost touch with everyday people.

As a friend said to me this afternoon:

One of the reasons the US has become so dysfunctional is that almost everyone there thinks they are only one lucky break away from becoming a billionaire and so they end with a political system where making life better for people isn’t on the agenda

And you add that lack of awareness of inequity to this sense of infallibility. It becomes even more damaging. As my friend continued:

And that’s what I mean about completely out of touch, it’s at the point where it becomes almost toxic. Make that toxic and forget the almost. The other part of [their] success, is the sense of infallibility. I come across a lot of tech entrepreneurs who simply can’t be told anything because they know everything.

Coronavirus is a global crisis. As a smart man said to me, social change always comes after these things. It can go either way, a flowering or a return to something feudal. I think and hope NZ will flower.

Our opportunity is to rethink the economic models, to think about everyone, not just those with the luxury of privilege. Let’s engineer our new society to be one in which we value not just financial results, but social and environmental ones. Let’s create a society that uses our finite resources with respect, and distributes the benefits of that resource use to all. Let’s think about businesses driving for impact, not just profits. We have the opportunity to make our world and the world generally, a better and fairer place. Let’s not waste it.

We could make 1,000 sections available for, say, $5 million dollars plus construction project costs, therefore adding $5 billion of residential construction and jobs to our economy this year.

I’ve been noodling over that and, at the risk of getting into an argument with this person (something I have a long history of doing but which, thankfully, I’ve avoided for a couple of years) I have to say I disagree with the notion.

At face value, the idea is appealing: 1000 lifestyle blocks wouldn’t even make a tiny dent in the undeveloped land we have in New Zealand, and $5B worth of construction, alongside all the attendant jobs to service these people, would be appealing.

But then I thought about it, and considered that word: “service.”

You see, there was a time in history when a similar system existed. When rich individuals would own land, and around them would be other people whose very existence depended upon those anointed individuals ongoing patronage. It was called feudalism and it was the epitome of a classed society where a tiny number of individuals held the land and the power, and everyone else was in servitude to them.

feudalism

fjuːdəlɪz(ə)m

noun

the dominant social system in medieval Europe, in which the nobility held lands from the Crown in exchange for military service, and vassals were in turn tenants of the nobles, while the peasants (villeins or serfs) were obliged to live on their lord’s land and give him homage, labour, and a share of the produce, notionally in exchange for military protection.

So. What’s the issue with carving off a bit of land and selling it to the highest bidders? What it does, is it makes New Zealanders essentially tenants in our own country. Once we’ve sold off those blocks, there’s no going back. We are, forevermore, reliant on the grace of those purchasers to keep coming here and keep employing us to clean their pools and mow their lawns.

I’m reminded of another recent new New Zealander: Peter Thiel. The Silicon Valley billionaire famously used well-greased back channels to gain citizenship in Ne Zealand (and he did so, I might add, secretly.) The proposition was that his citizenship would result in him spending some of his billions here in New Zealand – investing in local companies, generally espousing to the world how awesome New Zealand is. As it happened, he bought a bit of property here, made a few token investments, and has never been seen since.

True, the Thiel situation related to citizenship, and not land ownership but I’d suggest that land ownership is an even more problematic notion: as the saying goes, “by land, Son, they’re not making any more.” Land is a limited resource and, once it’s locked up in the ownership of some Silicon Valley tech guru, South African diamond miner or Swiss financier, it’s gone for good.

The other thing this notion does is to set a precedent that every time the economy takes a dip (or, for that matter, we want to spend some money without earning it first) we carve off another bit of land and hock it off to the new batch of landed gentry. It seems to me that the suggestion is the notion of living beyond one’s means writ large. It sells off the most precious resource we have, and the resource we’re meant to safeguard for future generations, to today’s highest bidder, for a little bit of short term benefit.

I know a chap who makes a living building houses for these sort of people. The kind of individuals who come to New Zealand for a few weeks a year and like to sip wine in trendy London or New York bars and tell their friends about their bolt holes Downunder. And while this chap, and a large number of tradespeople, do pretty well out of these projects, they’d be the first to admit that this sort of development isn’t additive to New Zealand’s economy. It’s extraction without the benefit of ongoing economic contribution.

Lastly, there is an aspect in all of this that centers around who we are as a people. As someone said to me this morning:

We are a nation with a strong sense of identity, our migrant communities have been characterized by the huge contributions they have made to our society. We have led the world in addressing the grievances of our indigenous people. This is who we are, we should be careful to protect that identity and cherish our values. Inviting people into our community solely on the basis of their financial contribution risks the very essence of our society.

I’ve spent the last 15 years or so travelling extensively all around the world. In some years my work saw me flying over 300,000 miles per annum.

As such a frequent flier, most of it with Air New Zealand, I have enjoyed the benefits of their status programme – be it with upgrades, great food, lovely wines or the personal touch from Air New Zealand’s incredible staff. I’ve waxed poetic about the pride that everyone in New Zealand should feel for our airline – while we can quibble about safety videos (OK, the rap one was a mistake) and the odd customer service blunder, all in all, Air New Zealand is an incredible ambassador for us and our country.

As a frequent flier, I’m a sometimes visiter to FlyerTalk, a forum site for people with a penchant for flying and a fascination with the aviation sector – it’s a good place to ask questions (“where can I have a shower at Singapore airport,” or “how much time do I need to do some sightseeing during a layover at Chicago O’Hare?” for example). This morning, since I’d just read an article about the aviation sector, I went over to FlyerTalk to see what the buzz was.

Naively, I thought people would mainly be talking about the human cost of the crisis (ie the massive number of jobs that will be lost – directly and indirectly – from the resultant downturn). Not so, unfortunately. Reading through a few of the posts I was struck by the incredible self-interest and lack of compassion on offer. A number of members primary concern seemed to be whether their frequent flier status would be extended – their precious privileges being more important, of course than peoples’ jobs.

And then there were the posts from people who have some leisure travel booked in June and are incensed that Air New Zealand hasn’t personally communicated with them as yet. Think about it, people. The airline overnight cut its capacity by around 85%. It saw it’s predicted revenue drop to, at best, ten percent of what it was a year ago, and it came to the realization that at least a third of its staff are now surplus to requirements.

Entitled frequent fliers, your self-interest and lack of compassion is obscene. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

The final word goes out to those thousands of Air New Zealand staff who are going to be affected by this – stay tough and thank you for all that you’ve done for our airline. Kia kaha.

This morning I read on the news about calls from one of our city’s most prominent commercial property owners for the Government to step in and support hospitality businesses by way of rent subsidies.

Apart from the very obvious self-interest here (this chap specializes in developing large-scale hospitality precincts), it seems like his point misses the mark somewhat.

The economic impact from Covid-19 could very well be existential in nature, the biggest thing since The Depression a century ago. Anyone who has read anything about The Depression will know that having a wide selection of dining-out options wasn’t anyone’s priority. Rather, basic food, shelter and clothing were.

While I understand the desire to keep life the way it was pre-Covid, that desire is potentially completely unrealistic. It is a desire which makes the very dangerous assumption that the fundamental economic models will be the same in six months as they were previously. And that is by no means a given.

Surely it is more prudent for money to be spent supporting truly essential business – those involved with housing, clothing and providing the ability for us to feed ourselves?

I was interested to see a video on Stuff tonight with Emily Miller-Sharma of RUBY CLothing talking about how consumers can make a difference by buying local products rather than ordering off online retailers from overseas.

I totally agree with Emily but would go one step further and suggest that all those consumers look not only to brands with a retail presence in New Zealand, but also ones that are actually made here. To be honest, it seems a bit duplicitous to be moaning about offshore retailers given the model RUBY uses which is to source goods from low-cost economies and sell them in a local retail chain.

It’s a drum that Ryan Jennings from Buy New Zealand Made has been banging for years and it’s actually doable – there are some incredible fashion brands made here in Aotearoa – KILT Clothing , Carly Harris, Maggie Marilyn, Ingrid Starnes and others. Hell, while we’re at it, take a look at Cactus Outdoor (self-interest to the side, obviously).

New Zealand has long been not only the source of great fashion design but also fantastic manufacturing of those designs, let’s keep it that way!

According to their website, there is a fundamental problem with the trusty old N95 facemask that can be solved via a USD350 electronic device with lots of intricate parts, the necessity for frequent recharging and plenty of nano-this, AI-that and disruptive-the other. If that sounds very much like the Juicero to you, you wouldn’t be mistaken.

It strikes me – what economies need post-Covid-19 is a lot less reinventing the wheel (otherwise known as doing something simply because one can, not because one should) and much more focus on what actually matters – food, shelter, equitable distribution. Less making toys for wealthy and bored millenials, and more doing “stuff that matters.”

It feels, in my worldview, that for a decade or more, we’ve been focusing on the very highest levels of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and a situation like we’re currently working through makes us refocus on those more foundational elements.

So there’s my hope – that instead of doing stuff that only a tiny proportion of people will ever be able to use, we think more about the important stuff, and work on ways to make it available to all.

For over twenty years I’ve been a volunteer firefighter, and before that, I did a bunch of emergency response work. The idea of going into a massively stressful, completely unknown and possibly dangerous situation is kind of natural.

This past couple of weeks have felt like that – but instead of one house being on fire, the entire world is on fire. And that’s the reality of our situation – we’d like to sort it all nicely, have it neatly ordered and develop long-thought out plans and procedures, but the reality is that Covid-19 makes us think on our feet.

So the challenge for us all is to get comfortable being uncomfortable, to dispense with the usual niceties and to, pretty much, just get shit done. This situation requires thinking on our feet and responding to weekly, daily and hourly changes with agility and dynamism.

Go do it, team. You haven’t got too many other options.

The facilitator reminded us that, as directors, 85% of our time is spent doing business as usual – developing strategy, holding management to account and ensuring regulatory compliance etc.

That stuff is pretty easy and doesn’t require much intellectual stretch on the part of governors.

The extra 15% of the time, however, is when we really show our mettle and earn our Directors’ fees. Those are the time of change, of crisis and of criticality when we have to step up and make the big decisions for our organisations.

This is one of those times and, as directors, the decisions we make in the days and weeks ahead will secure (or otherwise) the survival of the organisations we direct. Stand up, governors now is your time to shine.

I got into an argument this morning on Twitter (I know, hard to believe, right?) after I suggested that perhaps we are seeing the tech industry’s day of reckoning.

You see for well over a decade I have been getting hundreds of PR pitches a week from tech companies that seemed to genuinely believe that their (insert company pitch but often along the lines of “laundry delivery service for busy (or lazy) millennials,”) offering was truly making a difference to the world.

We’ve gotten comfortable thinking that our own comfort is the most important thing.

We’ve conflated “want” with “need” and in doing so have perpetuated a broken economic model.

The smartest person I know sent me a note this morning, saying:

… for the last 40 years the economic model has been global free trade. Border tariffs have disappeared and with them countless industries have gone. In the process, the nation-state has sacrificed its individual resilience tin favour of cheaper consumer goods imported from invisible factories. Perhaps the chaos that is about to envelop the planet will result in a rethink of our willingness to bow down to the God of free trade.

The positive thing from a horrid time might just be a general rethink about our priorities…

The short version

I ran the entire race with Yonni and we both managed a sub-9-hour run with him setting a new junior course record. I’m a very proud dad.

The long version

For those who don’t know the “lie of the land” here is a quick intro to the race. Competitors start off from Seddonville in the dark and slowly make their way along the Mokihinui River. As the sun gently rises they’re treated to some incredible views of bush-clad gorges. After some lovely forest running, the track heads up and competitors navigate the infamous Skyline Steps and a series of switchbacks to Ghost Lake. From there one enjoys some incredible rocky ridge running to the high point of the course at Heaven’s Door before heading back down through the forest to Lyell.

How it played out

After a couple of years away from the race, son #1 was back in New Zealand and was all set to return to the Old Ghost Ultra (OGU to save my fingers). He ran the event as a 16-year-old and got to the finish, albeit not in great shape. For months he’d been talking about this year’s race and had been laying down some pretty ambitious goals – much banter had been had with the Hagley Hombres running club about Yonni’s stated ambition to run sub 9 hours – not something that many people do. Still, young and dumb and putting it all on the line is something that sometimes pays off.

A group of us travelled over to the West Coast – Yonni and I joined by club mates Andy and Lee, as well as new recruit Jarrod Cook. Race briefing was, as always, an entertaining affair with the race director and personal hero of mine, Phil Rossiter, introducing everyone to the Whitley Index (WTLI), a recently developed methodology which tracks runners will to live at various stages of a race. Phil’s race briefings are the stuff of legend and, even if you’re not into running, it’s worth coming along just to watch.

Race morning called for a 3 am rise in order to make the roughly hour-long journey to the start line at Seddonville. The busses are always full of nervous individuals and there is that early morning, pre-race smell of deep heat, anti-chafe cream and crisp, clean (but not for long) running kit.

Yonni and I had discussed race strategy and we both agreed on two things: first, that it was important to get a decent start to avoid congestion on the runnable first 20km section and secondly that thereafter we’d run conservatively. We decided it was better to get a good time through a steady race than to go out too fast and risk blowing up.

Yonni has a tendency to get excited when he’s leading but I was pleased that all day he managed to curb his enthusiasm and keep it steady – the odd suggestion from me to back off a bit was all it took to keep him in check. It was also important to recognise that after a fair amount of rain, the trail was actually more taxing than one would have thought – there was quite a lot of water underfoot and we had to be pretty careful about foot placement.

For the first section, all four Hombres were pretty much together, with Lee slightly ahead of us. At the aid station, Phil and Squadrun honcho Kerry Suter welcomed us and gave us some intel on other runners. We’d decided not to hang around here for long so after grabbing a bit to eat and letting Phil take a quick pic of us, we headed off for the longest section, the 25kms from Specimen Point to Stern Valley.

Soon after Andy dropped off the pace a little bit and so it was just Yonni and I running together for the next three hours. This section was in great shape – almost no surface water and a slightly soft trail that made it quite pleasant. At about the 36km mark runners start the Hanging Judge climb up to Solemn Saddle. At this point, we caught up to a reasonably-sized group of runners which included our mate Lee. It was nice to see him and run with him for a bit.

By the top of Solemn Saddle, it was just Yonni and me again, all ready to attack the amazing descent down the moonscape of the Boneyard and across to Stern Valley.

It was nice getting into Stern Valley, the aid station which signifies the halfway point in the race. While the hard stuff is still to come, it still feels good to be halfway through in terms of distance. Phil and Kerry had shuttled to the aid station by helicopter and once again gave us the lowdown on where everyone else was.

We took a little bit longer at the Stern Valley aid station – a chance to refuel, reset the legs and mind and get ready for the section ahead. It was interesting replaying the livestream, and seeing that, despite what felt like a pretty long aid station visit to us, we were still speedier than most other runners – different strokes for different folks, I guess.

The section from Stern Valley to Ghost Lake hut is the shortest section of the race, but also the most difficult and iconic. After a few kilometres spent winding one’s way through the native bush, the track pitches upwards and climbs for a while before depositing runners at the bottom of the Skyline Steps – 300+ (but I didn’t count) steps of varying heights that take runners up to the Skyline Ridge. The steps are awaited anxiously by all, and many a competitor has seen their race fall apart as the climb elicits cramps – we did OK, however, and popped out on the ridge in good spirits.

From there the track climbs some more and becomes a bit more technical – I’m always pretty cautious in this section as one misplaced foot can spell disaster. Yonni got away from me a bit here – 19-year-old legs are far better suited to technical running than 48-year-old ones!

We regrouped ready for the final section of switchback that takes runners to Ghost Lake – I quite like this section since the views are amazing, the track is pretty smooth and the gradient is fairly doable.

At Ghost Lake, there are only a few hundred metres to run through the bush before one gets to the Ghost Lake aid station and can have a few minutes to relax. Perennial supporters Phil and Kerry were there as well and we spent a few minutes discussing strategies for the rest of the race and whether Yonni’s sub 9 hour was actually attainable. It was also a chance for some sustenance with Coke, chips and a sandwich providing fuel for the final 30 kilometres to the finish.

From Ghost Lake, there are a few kilometres left to climb to the high point of the course at Heaven’s Door and then runners face a sweet 25km descent. Initially, this descent is across an exposed ridge, but later on, it enters the bush and moves from hard, rocky ground to softer more pleasant conditions.

The final aid station at Lyell Saddle was a chance for a quick bite to eat but, since we’d picked up (and been picked up by) a bunch of other runners at this stage, we didn’t want to hang around. While time was our primary objective, there was still the thought of podium and overall placings and we were mindful that being passed by runners wouldn’t help with that objective.

There was a bit of back and forwards with different competitors in the last 15km or so – it was somewhat amusing to see Mr Chilli pants run past at a million miles an hour only to have us pass him as he was crouched down with stitch a few minutes later. Grant Guise, local trail running legend and importer of a bunch of trail running brands had run the early stages with another competitor as a training run and decided to smash out the last half at pace. He saw us in the distance and for a few minutes, we heard the dulcet tones of a screaming Southlander regaling us about how stupid we looked in yellow shirts. That lasted all of a couple of minutes before he blasted past on his way to the finish.

The final bridge and steps to the finish line were a pretty sweet sight to see and we ended up crossing the line together in 8:41. That got Yonni a junior course record by some three hours, a reduction in his OGU time by close to four hours, the pair of us 17th equal and me third vet for the second year in a row. All in all a good haul.

The Old Ghost is always the highlight of my racing calendar and, beyond that, it is a chance to spend a weekend with good friends – both old and new. This year was no different and being able to spend the day running with Yonni, and to help him to such an epic result, was really special.