Deborah Coddington: Sir Roger needs bollocking as party loses its principles

What does Sir Roger Douglas really think of his Act Party now? Photo / Janna Dixon

What does Sir Roger Douglas really think when he sees the nasty mess the Association of Consumers and Taxpayers - set up to end privilege and provide choice - has become?

In his heart of hearts, did he really believe it was safe to take a ticking bomb called David Garrett into the Act caucus?

Ten years ago, a fearsome woman called Lyn Fitness, an original member of Act, asked me to stand for Parliament. A true liberal, she'd owned Queen St's Horsley's Chemist for 33 years. I'd written in Liberty Belle that I'd resigned from Act in 1994 because they were "unprincipled wimps", but she was anything but a wimp.

She became my electorate chairperson, my best friend, and she scared the living daylights out of everyone.

When I was in the House, she would watch on television then text me with orders to go and poke Richard Prebble because he looked like he'd fallen asleep, and what the hell was I doing smiling at Keith Locke?

She said she'd have me "put down" if I didn't support the Prostitution Reform Bill because she'd spent years looking after prostitutes when they lined up for their drugs outside her shop.

"Their lives are so bloody miserable as it is," she'd say, "so why should they be criminals as well. It's the bloody men exploiting them who are the evil ones."

Lyn was the only person who could call Roger Douglas "the grumpy old sod from Redoubt Rd" and survive, but she was his biggest fan. She usually just called him "God".

A former Act board member, Lyn knew the punishment for my personal life hitting the headlines would be a humiliating low list placing. She advised me to jump before I was pushed. She didn't live long enough to see Garrett parachuted into number five, but I can imagine the expletives.

Today, Act's hardline supporters complain the party's meltdown is just a media beat-up and Garrett is the victim of a witch hunt. One straw-clutcher even claimed Garrett made a huge sacrifice by lifting his own name suppression, thus exposing the falsehood of not declaring the Tongan assault conviction to the court.

Depending on the accusers, media are either a left-wing or right-wing conspiracy. Imagine their outrage if some reporter ignored a tip-off that a Labour law and order spokesperson - who had campaigned against name suppression, voted against spent convictions legislation and championed a three-strikes bill - had once pleaded guilty to stealing a dead child's identity to gain a false passport?

The hypocritical legs on this story grew longer than those of Naomi Campbell in Christian Louboutins.

When asked why he had accepted this creep in the caucus, Hide retaliated: Didn't we believe in redemption?

This was cute. Garrett wrote the book A Life for a Life, calling for the reinstatement of the death penalty. In a Faustian pact, Act has traded its principles for access to the 150,000 members Sensible Sentencing boss Garth McVicar says are signed up on its roll.

In November last year, McVicar told me, in the same interview, he didn't believe in forgiveness: "I won't go anywhere near that one. In eight years I've only ever had one email from people who want to forgive."

That was in response to my suggesting to him research from the United States shows:

Three strikes does not work in reducing crime.

Forgiveness can be a powerful tool aiding progress in rehabilitation of offenders and victims.

For Act comes hope though, with new MP Hilary Calvert - but only if they change tack. MPs can't remain beholden to Epsom. There's no reason Hide can't be, in his words, the best MP for Epsom.

But he should hand over leadership to Boscawen, a brilliant party vote campaigner who might crank them up to 5 per cent, giving Hide space to secure his seat.

Someone needs to save this party from itself.

Lyn Fitness would be horrified. Like many others, she spent hours campaigning for Act. She died of breast cancer in 2007 and I'm thankful she can't see the party now. But I wish she could phone Sir Roger and give him a bloody good bollocking.