National's taxing times on the factory floor

Don Brash tucks into Burger King chips in Dunedin's Meridian Mall. Picture / Mark Mitchell

Timber workers Derek Bilk and Marcus Beeson have been debating the country's future in the tearoom of Pallet Packaging, and they think it's time for a change.

It's the morning after Don Brash has launched his king hit - National's long-awaited tax package - and with their co-workers the duo are awaiting his arrival at their Penrose plant.

With no children, Mr Bilk will not benefit from Labour's Working for Families package and is fed up with families - which merge seamlessly into beneficiaries when he talks, although the scheme is for working families - getting everything, while he gets nothing.

Mr Beeson's partner is expecting their second child and the couple are pleased they can rely on paid parental leave. Mr Bilk is not a supporter but can understand why his friend likes it.

However, Mr Beeson worries about the future of Anzus under Labour.

The Crown car swings through the gates, Dr Brash opens the door and the cameras start flashing and clicking.

The media entourage is sizeable and Dr Brash is accompanied by three staff, Clevedon MP Judith Collins and her electorate secretary, who have organised today's visits, and the usual Diplomatic Protection Squad members.

Company director Peter Corlett, a Brash supporter, is a little taken aback. He'd expected neither the numbers nor such a lengthy visit.

But this is the important "day after" for the National leader, whose comments on debating with women have already diverted attention from the biggest card he had to play.

In front of 30 or so slightly bemused workers, Dr Brash stands on three pallets arranged on the floor and delivers his exposition.

Points or figures are emphasised by a bending of his left knee, small hands pointing down prayer-like but slightly apart, or tapping in the air.

The message: "The tax cuts will deliver more money into the pocket for you."

Then the workers are invited to roll up and take a turn on the website-based tax calculator, courtesy of the laptop the National team is carrying around, to find out just how much is in it for them.

If Dr Brash were more of a showman, the scene would have an almost farcical whiff of the fairground.

"There are no losers, so have a go," proclaims the less subtle Dunedin South candidate, Conway Powell, to workers when a similar scenario is played out on a Mitre 10 building site in his city on Thursday.

You almost expect the laptop to start ringing like a cash register.

The reaction of those who do type in their details is largely - outwardly at least - low-key, perhaps because the subject of their pay packets is a little personal.

The Pallet Packaging blokes are on $35,000 to $50,000 and the single ones in particular stand to gain some extra cash under National.

But other issues are more important to some, who remain sceptical about the colour of Dr Brash's money.

Tevita Levao is paying back a student loan, which is his primary concern and marks him out as a likely Labour voter, and 21-year-old Jason Manuel, unsure of how his two votes work, has already decided he is voting for the Maori Party.

At Kapiti's Precise Print, "Alan" says it's sometimes "better to stick with the devil you know".

He and his partner have three children and foster three others from Child, Youth and Family, which he says is already "in chaos".

He is suspicious that National's plans to cut waste will throw the organisation into further crisis.

Dr Brash miscalculates by talking about the average wage to this group of workers.

"We wish," snorts Wally Wilson, signalling that this crowd earns less and will benefit by $20 a week at most from the tax cuts. "Are they going to give you the tax cut and take it away with the other?"

At Fishers Meats in Dunedin on Thursday, there's only $12 a week maximum in it for those on the sausage factory line, who earn up to $35,000.

The boss loves the package. He admits he let a few of the more stroppy workers, who might have given Dr Brash a bit of flak, head off early before he arrived.

Dr Brash could have taken his roadshow to "bigger winners" this week, but has deliberately spent much of the time on the "factory floor" as part of a more fundamental mission.

National is trying to subvert the mantra that "tax cuts are for fat cats" and wants them repackaged as worker-friendly, an initiative for the mainstream.

It's an apparent contradiction of the centre-right paradigm and compounds the wariness of some he meets, already suspicious of politicians and particularly uncertain of what this one actually stands for.

It is largely the media images - Dr Brash in a hard hat - that National is after.

But he is an eager salesman, determined to engage while out on the road and willing to spend longer than his minders sometimes like trying to win over a voter.

He struggles yet perseveres with some working "guys" - a word that sounds a little unnatural when he says it - and is noticeably more comfortable addressing a group of business people.

Dr Brash's sometimes self-deprecatory humour and slightly rakish grin save the unflashy politician with the wispy grey hair, sharp-edged glasses and at times plaintive-sounding voice from blandness.

Some older women are particularly impressed.

But a number of young women he meets later voice to reporters their annoyance over his claim that he treated Helen Clark differently during the TVNZ debate because she was a woman - and appear to view him as something of an ancient life form.

Dr Brash admits the issue has been "a pain in the neck" but professes not to understand what the fuss is about.

You might suspect him of being a little disingenuous.

But stopping to grab some lunch across the road from the Paekakariki pub on the Kapiti Coast on Wednesday, he shares a story with reporters about a drink he enjoyed there with a plumber once.

It's memorable because the plumber - who drank from a flagon - wanted to talk to him about existentialism, which both intrigued Dr Brash and blew him away.

It's the type of stereotypical observation many might make, but few politicians would voice.

Particularly one spending a week peddling the value of the very same philosophical theory - you are the agent of your own destiny - to "workers".

But that's Dr Brash - bold or a blunderer or both, depending on your perspective; happy to share his views and with something to offer Mr Bilk, who finally sees a long-awaited "break" for people like him in sight.

The four-pronged Brash pitch

* "The tax package will deliver more money into the pocket for you."

* Labour's health and education spending cut warnings are scaremongering, National will have "slightly smaller spending increases".

* Contrary to Labour's claims, the tax package will not drive up interest rates.

* It's only the party vote that counts and will change the Government - with mock apologies to whichever National electorate candidate Dr Brash is standing beside at the time.