Editorial: Change to honours system a politician's feelgood ploy

Opinion

Sister Pauline O'Regan, of Christchurch, was named a Distinguished Companion of the Order of New Zealand in the Queen's Birthday Honours in 2001 for services to education and the community. Now that the Government has reversed the 1996 decision of the Clark administration, which abolished the "royal" honours in favour of a New Zealand system, the good Sister of Mercy will be able to add a Dame to the front of her name.

But she is having none of it: "I can't believe the Government's tinkering around with this kind of thing when the world's teetering on the verge of economic collapse," she said.

If Sister Pauline were a politician, she would know that it's not what you do that matters; it's how it looks. That's why John Key has staged this sideshow in these turbulent times.

If the move will confer no observable economic benefit, it will at least be cost-free. The folks in the Honours Secretariat, part of the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet, will administer this move back to the future. That's their job and since they weren't going to be dealing with the world economic meltdown, no harm is done.

Whether the change is desirable is quite another matter. At the time Labour made the change to indigenous honours in 1995, New Zealand was the only substantial Commonwealth country still clinging to this quaint remnant of empire: Canada dispensed with it in the 1960s and Australia in the 1970s.

(Interestingly, people who have criticised the step as retrograde have been chided on the grounds that we do not need to follow Canada and Australia, but may make our own decisions - an odd argument for those supporting the idea that our citizenry should be formally honoured by a head of state in a distant country not our own).

Key hinted in October that, if National formed a Government, reverting to the knights-and-dames system was on the cards. "Down the track we could have a look at that, have a review," he told the Listener. The vague choice of words was that of a campaign promise that would not be a priority in Government, but in the event - and with no evidence of any review, much less public consultation - the decision has been made.

Key's argument that the old system allowed us to "celebrate success" seems hard to sustain. Only in the case of knights and dames did Labour's system make the honour less obvious because it was not an audible form of address; in the case of the vast majority of honours conferred at the twice-yearly rounds, no substantive change occurred - or will occur now.

But Key knows that there's an important feelgood factor in his move. It cements his authority in matters of state and underlines his determination to distinguish his administration from its predecessor. It is, in short, a matter of form, not substance.

But it is not without significance: it is unquestionably a step back in the inexorable move towards republican status. It does not rhyme with the image of a dynamic, forward-looking nation making its mark in the world.

If Key is so keen on changing the honours system he might like to turn his attention to who gets honoured rather than what they get called after honours are bestowed. For too long, the major honours have gone to bigwigs and governments' friends in high places whose "services" have been nothing more than doing jobs they were well paid for. There are those whose idea of service consists of more than moving in the right circles. They deserve the highest recognition too, and they - like Sister Pauline - won't much care whether they get a new name as a result.