Grand stadium visions return regularly to Auckland\u2019s waterfront, even as councils struggle with the cost of maintaining what already exists. Photo \/ Getty Images<\/p>\n
Film subsidies present yet another case. New Zealand\u2019s creative sector is rightly admired. But we should be honest about what our generosity to foreign studios represents. Budget 2025 committed $1.09 billion to the International Screen Production Rebate over a four-year period, with additional funding for domestic productions. The argument is seductive: high-value jobs, international exposure<\/a> and the glamour of Hollywood on the Waitemat\u0101. Yet the returns are notoriously difficult to pin down. The benefits flow to a small cluster of firms and individuals. The costs are spread broadly across taxpayers who derive little direct value from the largesse.<\/p>\n The belief that subsidies are warranted survives because it flatters us. We like thinking of ourselves as a global creative hub. But the subsidy regime persists largely because the people who argue most passionately for it are not the ones paying for it. Even when both major parties back the spending, the question of transparent cost-benefit analysis remains uncomfortably unresolved.<\/p>\n Nowhere is the luxury-belief dynamic more visible than in the defence of \u201cheritage character\u201d in housing. Protecting historic streetscapes is admirable. In practice, heritage rules have become a tool for limiting development in some of the country\u2019s most desirable suburbs. Homeowners enjoy the amenity value and rising equity that come from scarcity. Young families and renters bear the brunt of the cost. Auckland\u2019s median house costs around seven times the median income. When restrictions on height and density are framed as preserving a city\u2019s soul, the question of who gets to live in that city is quietly side-lined.<\/p>\n Luxury beliefs extend beyond economics. They also appear in the criminal justice system<\/a>. The belief that prison is inherently cruel and that accountability is \u201cpunitive\u201d carries a social reward among the well-intentioned. But crime does not occur evenly across the population. Victimisation is highest among poorer, younger and M\u0101ori households. Lighter sentencing is a cost borne by communities that do not attend policy panels or write opinion columns. For those living in safer suburbs, it is an abstraction. For others, it is a typical Tuesday night.<\/p>\n What these examples share is not ideology but insulation. Luxury beliefs flourish when the people who hold them are protected from their downsides. Because the costs often come with a lag or at a distance, the disconnect can persist for years. But eventually, reality reasserts itself \u2013 just not for those insulated from its consequences. Coal trains still arrive at Huntly. Housing lists still grow. Infrastructure still decays. Crime still concentrates in the same postcodes.<\/p>\n We should not abandon ambition. Nor should we sneer at idealism. But we should be honest about trade-offs. Public money is finite. Every decision to spend it on something that makes us feel good is a decision not to spend it where it might do the most good. New Zealand\u2019s challenges are too serious for this.<\/a> We cannot afford nice-sounding ideas that work only to make the comfortable feel virtuous.<\/p>\nFilm productions bring global attention to New Zealand but the public cost of attracting them is borne far beyond the set. Photo \/ Thomas Coughlan. <\/p>\n
Rising power bills turn abstract policy decisions into everyday pressures for households with little room to absorb them. Photo \/ NZME<\/p>\n