KEY POINTS:
There is nothing particularly exciting about a country in good working order. When it comes to selling a location, conflict and chaos trump peace and prosperity every time.
You mightn't want to live in Serbia, or Gaza or Kigali, but they certainly make for more exciting copy than Luxembourg or Brussels. There's not too much colour in the picture of a nation that is simply chugging along nicely, thank you very much, and yet sometimes it's nice to just luxuriate in living somewhere that gets things right.
I've been thinking this since I watched the leaders debate at TVNZ on Tuesday. It wasn't the most riveting of televisual spectacles, I acknowledge; neither of our prospective leaders being possessed of the sort of masterful oratory that lifts such things into the sphere of the kinetically sublime.
Helen Clark looked like getting lofty for a moment there, when the tour came up, no doubt remembering a few happy years of revolution before her present stateliness took hold. But overall it was a far cry from the sort of soaring rhetoric Obama has us used to these days.
Some of the YouTube moments were a bit cringey as well, even though they did at least try to tick all the right voter-profile boxes.
Annoying-sounding expat in a Kiwi T-shirt mouthing off from overseas? Check. Odd, ranting, climate-change-denying man who looked like he was filming himself in the back of a caravan? Check. Funky little beatboxing DJ types showing the yoof care too? Check.
There was a strange moment where I thought the man with a question about violence in dairies was actually speaking from a hospital bed, which would have been a visual way of making the point at least, but it turns out he was just up against a white wall.
I had other criticisms too. Leaving out the clip of the punter in the polar bear suit was just criminal, and the poll at the end was simply specious. That said, I came away from the debate with a great sense of satisfaction.
Helen Clark and John Key were put through their paces, as thoroughly and sensibly and comprehensively as the format allowed.
Relaxed refereeing by Mark Sainsbury also meant they got nice and leery in places, and I appreciated Barry Soper taking Key up on his Springbok tour comments, even if John didn't.
They both lost the plot in places. Key's my-lovely-wife schtick was pure schmaltz and the mugging that accompanied it was tragic.
Helen Clark won't be winning any new votes by burbling on about the kaupapa of sustainability (the what?) and accusing her opponent of temper "tantrums" post-debate was another glimpse of the patronising, school-marmish aspect of her persona that I wish we saw less of.
Overall, though, I thought all concerned acquitted themselves well, not least the state broadcaster for actually putting the show together, even if they did have to spoil it by tacking that silly poll on at the end.
Polls annoy me; there is too much of the tail wagging the dog about how they're canvassed and put together. I have long suspected people actually like being told what to think, and polls are a simple and effective means of inventing a consensus that often doesn't exist.
The debate was a valuable and important piece of television, however, in that it gave us time and space in which to evaluate and relate to the two people who are vying to run the country.
Obviously, we won't be making a decision based on that performance alone, that would be stupid, and nowadays everyone knows that decision-making is not a rational process, in any case.
There'll be people out there voting for John Key because he looks like their brother, or because they like his voice, just as there will be people who'll never give him the tick for the same reason.
All the same, though, irrational decision-making processes aside, it was an hour and a half of good telly that gave me faith in the democratic process as it exists here, in this small country at the end of the world.
I like that about New Zealand. It's not racy, not flashy, not a rockstar, but solid and sturdy and humming along nicely. A bit like Helen and John the other night.
