Paul Holmes: Duty, not dollars drives most MPs

As the country raised its collective eyebrows at the size of the amounts paid in expenses to its Members of Parliament and the purposes for which these expenses are claimed, Kathy, from our local native plant nursery, called at the farm to see me. I am looking at planting along the creek next year with graceful native grasses that love a bit of swampy ground.

We walked round cursing some damage rabbits had recently done to some other natives, when Kathy said suddenly, with a smile of wonderment, and without any prompting from me: "They can't help themselves, can they?"

In that simple statement, Kathy spoke for the nation. There has not been any rabid anger about the MPs' expenses, just a gentle rumbling of amazement.

So Bill English lives in his own house in Wellington and charged us more than $900 a week for doing so. He could do this because he regards Dipton as home. Sorry, but I thought Bill had lived in Wellington for years. Which is why he bought the house there.

I can kind of see how that works, yet I kind of see that it is on the edge of credibility too. What bothered people about the Bill English accommodation subsidy is not just that he lives in his own house, but that he is the Finance Minister calling for restraint. He had to act and he did.

Phil Goff owns a flat in Wellington, rents it out and claims the accommodation allowance on the place he rents. He says he wants to sell the flat tenanted. For the life of me I cannot see what that has to do with the taxpayer. Why doesn't he tenant it himself, and when he sells it, move out and then claim an accommodation subsidy?

And, like everyone, I am having trouble with Sir Roger Douglas's grandad trip to London, especially, I guess, because it is Sir Roger Douglas, the promoter of small government.

The amounts MPs spend on travel is always astronomical and always amazes me. These sums are always going to be substantial for the Prime Minister, the Foreign Affairs Minister and the Trade Minister.

One does not begrudge these expenses. When they are overseas, they are on tight schedules. They have to hit the ground running.

And, let's get real, the Prime Minister can hardly turn right at the aircraft door. And, invariably, when I have sat in first class (yes, I confess I have accepted upgrades! So sue me.) and the Foreign Affairs Minister has been on board, he has spent much of the flight working.

Last year, Air New Zealand invited me to Beijing for the signing of the Free Trade Agreement with China. It sat me in the business class section of a Boeing 777, a beautifully spacious compartment, across from Rob Fyfe and in the seat directly behind Phil Goff, then the Trade Minister. Masters of the Universe, I hear you groan.

We took off for Tokyo at about 9am. In front of me, all day through that long flight, was the bent head of Phil Goff reading through hundreds of pages of official material before meeting Chinese officials in Beijing. From Tokyo to Beijing, another five hours, he was at it again, with notes being passed back and forth between him and his officials.

I mention this because it shows the diligence of Phil Goff, the long-serving public servant, but also the need for ministers to have privacy and space on an aircraft. Hence the expense of their international travel.

I am not being an apologist for Members of Parliament. I just do not think there is a hell of a lot of rorting. I have seen many of our generation of MPs up close and under pressure over the past 20 years and I have known some of them well. I do not think I have met one who was not there to try to do some good. As Richard Griffin said to me once, early in our friendship back in the mid-80s when I sat in the press gallery with him: "They're all special. Every one of them. They've all put their balls on the line, gone through the selection process and got themselves elected." I have always remembered that. Inevitably, some will be brighter than others, but line 20 brain surgeons up and one will be thick.

There are privileges to the job, of course. There is the travel, the cars and there is the power. People bow and scrape before power. Ministers all love the power, but I doubt it corrupts too much. In this country, it does not last particularly long before you are Joe Public on the street again.

And the travel is not always flash. I have had cause over the years to phone an MP on a Sunday evening and when I ask them where they are, the answer is likely to be Hokitika, away from their family making a speech, or Palmerston North, meeting farmers, or Taumarunui or Dargaville, and it is mid-winter in a lonely motel room.

There might be Cabinet next morning and meetings all Monday afternoon and the minefield of question time on the Tuesday, and I think "poor sod" and marvel at their dedication.

I think most vividly of the sacrifices being an MP involves. There are the days and weeks of your life away from home, arriving at an empty flat in Wellington. There is the time away from your spouse or partner and the kids.

You deal with family situations from afar and you cope, no doubt, with the hopelessness of trying to discipline teenagers over the phone. Tried that lately? You have the personal disruption of living in two places. I am doing that myself at the moment and it can take it out of you. It is weird.

In a Parliamentary career, you might spend weeks on aircraft, hours of your life in airports. The further your electorate is from Wellington, the more arduous the travel must be.

Southern MPs must find this especially difficult, especially if you have every week to catch two flights to get to Wellington and back.

I know that in the end, this became simply too much for Katherine Rich - the long trips from Dunedin to Wellington and back, the time away from young children. Knowing National was likely to win last year and that she was lined up for a serious portfolio which would demand her all if she were to do it well, she baulked, realised the honourable thing to do for her children and the party, and gave it away.

Think of the Maori MPs who travel vast distances through often remote country to service their people. Under MMP, one Maori member serves the whole of the South Island.

Add to all of this the intense public scrutiny of your private life you may have to endure at any time. This can be a miserable experience. It can be prolonged, merciless and destructive. It can do terrible damage to your family.

The money might be better than most people earn, that is true. But no one ends up a millionaire at the end of it. The expenses might be generous. But no one goes into Parliament for the money.

By God, though, once they get there, they're not slow to learn the tricks.