Does life in the Beehive have a bad influence on politicians’ marriages?

Press, 9 May 1981, Page 16

Does life in the Beehive have a bad influence on politicians’ marriages?

By

BRIAR WHITEHEAD

Marriages of members of Parliament get more than their deserved share of attention. A certain public curiosity about the private lives of public figures usually means front-page remarks somewhere when an M.P.’s marriage breaks down. This has led to a general feeling that M.P.s’ marriages break up at a faster rate than average families, and probably because the life style of M.P.s puts abnormal strains on family life. M.P.s themselves mainly reject this notion. The Marriage Guidance Council willl say only that any marriage in whch couples begin to develop separate lives.is placed at risk. M.P.s are not alone in this, and the only statistics available prove nothing. Five M.P.s’ marriages have broken down in the present term of Parliament, and two others have been divorced. The breakdowns have been conceded by the M.P.s concerned. But there is no measure of this against the community rate because there is no way of knowing how many people in the community have silently conceded marriage breakdown too.

Divorce statistics are the only usable ones available and they show that divorces are occurring in New Zealand now at the rate of 1.95 for every 100 of the population. Two M.P.s divorced this term out of 92 is, in purely statistical terms, consistent with the community rate. If the sample were larger conclusions might be quite different.

The Marriage Guidance Council is not aware of any definitive statement giving causes of divorce, against which an M.P.S’ mode of living might be examined. No studies have been done showing the effects of enforced and erratic absence from home, and pressure of work on marriage and family life. “The only difference between us, and people in the community,” said one irritated Cabinet minister, ‘‘is that an M.P.s marriage breakdown gets headlines in ‘Truth’ and anyone else’s get buried in court divorce registers.”

M.P.s generally say their marriages are as sound as the average New Zealand marriage (after all, they say, we are the House of Representatives), and that the only differences lie in causes of break-up. A labourer’s marriage might break up for financial reasons, they say; an M.P.’s from pressure of >ork; but both at about the same rate.

One M.P. said his marriage improved when he became an M.P.; he and his wife discovered that a strong common interest in politics improved communication. The same step might have ended the marriage of- another.

Many M.P.s said they believed that several members’ marriages which had broken up in the present term of Parliament would have broken up anyway. In other cases they considered the way of life demanded of M.P.s was a cause — present but not very measurable. M.P.s could think of “very, very few” colleagues who would put personal political ambitions before their family life, and none having young families who would do so. Several said they had not stood earlier for family reasons, and had stood later

only because families were willing then. There is now a new mood of concern about family life, particularly among ’backbenchers. The publicity given to the break-up of M.P.s’ marriages keeps their own marriages ever before them, no doubt, but also, more M.P.s are younger and have young families than a decade ago. M.P.s- have come to no fixed conclusions about the right balance between work and family; each has his own rules. They learn from one another and their own mistakes. Cabinet Ministers are better off than backbenchers in their proximity to families. They are given essentially rent-free premises in Wellington, and most bring families there from the electorate. Even though Cabinet Ministers are busier than backbenchers, they at least live with their families. The backbencher, unless he lives in or close to Wellington, spends half his week in Wellington, in often inadequate digs, and the other half at home in the electorate. He is usually home on Friday evening, Saturday, Sunday and Monday, but this time is usually heavily committed. Monday is typically “surgery” — appointment day with constituents, often in the home lounge; Friday night usually means some function, and Saturday several. Most M.P.s try to keep Sunday free for families, but Sunday evening can be “a heavy 'phone night.” Into the rest of the week, Cabinet Ministers and backbenchers have to cram select committees (which meet all through the recess and the session); caucus study committees and Cabinet committees; speaking engagements (anywhere in the country); Speech writing (which can take hours if something new is expected to be said each time); correspondence and debates in the house. They also must follow up electorate matters, read to keep abreast of the tide of information that threatens to swamp them daily, know what’s in the legislation, stand in at short notice for colleagues for all manner of things, and in the case of Cabinet ministers, run their portfolios. And eat, sleep, and survive.

The Labour Party believes the House should begin far earlier in the year, and sit for only three days each week, instead of the present three and a half. On the fourth day; M.P.s could work uninterrupted in select committees on bills, or go home to their electorates for four uninterrupted days. Depending on the use of that fourth day, the last week of every month could be spent either in select committees, or in the electorate.

In addition, the Labour Party says, the House could adjourn for periods to allow M.P.s a break from its obsessiveness. (Many admit too long in the House distorts proper perspectives about Government). If these breaks coincided with school holidays, M.P.S could spend some time with young families, and on other work.

Already the Labour Party has introduced a popular two or three-day break ini August to allow M.P.s time off with young families. Most M-P.S say this all sounds good in theory, but would not work in practice. Almost without exception

they quoted Parkinson’s Law: any extra time gained by streamlining Parliamentary procedures would only fill up with work, or catching up. It would rarely go to families. M.P.s in rural electorates far from airports don’t want the inconvenience of more weekly flights in and out of Wellington each year, caused by an extended Parliamentary year.

Many like the idea of session breaks, and a slightly earlier start to the Parliamentary year, but only to allow them to bury themselves in something “useful/ Generally M.P.s reject the idea of any procedural changes simply for the sake of the family. “You simply can’t say, ‘We will close Parliament down now, and all M.P.s must go home and run along the beach with their kids’,” said one. “It’s unreal. Usually the kids don’t want to run along the beach with you; they, want to do something else with their friends.” One M.P. who made the effort of housing his family in Wellington during the school holidays to spend more time with them, found that it didn’t really work. “They wanted to be back with their friends, or I’d stopped them going to a dance back home, or something. “The moment you structure the time you’re going to spend with your family you miss the point. It’s quality of time spent, not quantity. When you’re home you make a point of putting your eight-year-old off to bed and reading him a story. You mightn’t ■have done that if you were home more often. Most of us make the most of our time with our families because we know how short it is.”

The M.P. said he simply disappeared for a three-day week-end with his family three or four times a year. “If I had to do it because the House had officially adjourned to let me, it wouldn’t come off,” he said. “It’s the spontaneity of it that makes it work.”

The running - of the House could be a lot more efficient, M.P.s agreed, but. the only benefits to families would be the effects of the homecoming of a less frustrated and aggressive M.P. “Too long in the House makes me aggressive,” one

said. "By Friday I’m fractious. I get home and start bossing the kids around.” M.P.s generally agreed that debating in the House

went on too long. Address-in-Reply and Budget debates could be cut in half, the numbers of speakers to the second reading of bills cut drastically, and short .title debates in committee stages eliminated altogether. All that M.P.s asked was flexibility within the present system to accommodate the special demands of family life at times. To some degree this exists already: Parliamentary whips are reasonable in granting leave from the House; M.P.s look after the electorates of colleagues while they take a break, and stand in for each other on select committees.

Many M.P.s come from very busy vocations anyway, and say families have not had to make great adjustments in many cases. Almost all with young families say children complain from time to time about missing dad, but that the. recess and special attentions here and there make it up. One Cabinet Minister said his children had said they would never become. M.P.s because they knew first-hand the deprivations their own families would . suffer. Another high-ranking Cabinet Minister with a strong marriage and grown family said some might rate him as successful, but he was not sure his offspring would agree.

“We haven’t the foggiest notion how kids are affected,” he said. “I’ve heard of cases where kids have ducked under car seats to avoid being seen with their father. Are they trying to escape the limelight? Are they ashamed of their father? I don’t know.”

“The children of many M.P.s grow up without a father essentially. They get used to it; they have to, but I don’t know that they adjust.” Most M.P.S said disruptive effects on family life were a calculated risk that an M.P. took. Knowing this, he simply had to work harder to eliminate them. But why should M.P.s be singled out? Children were casualties in some way of most marriages, and perhaps less cared for. Another high-ranking Cabinet Minister and several

backbenchers said a lot of pressures which M.P.s were subjected to were self-im-posed. It was always easier to say yes to a speaking engagement than no; and easy to succumb to the competitiveness of Parliamentary life. If an M.P. held his seat lightly, serving conscientiously in it, but prepared to be tossed out after three years, he would take on less work and his family would reap some of the benefits.

It was essential that men or women became M.P.s with the family’s consent. Even with a consensus the demands on the family were often under-estimated.

■ M.P.s were in agreement on two ways to ease stresses on families. So w’ere the three-year-old Parliamentary 1 Wives Association and a’ number of Government clerks. These ways were assistance in the electorate to take the burden off wives, and modest M.P.s’ apartments in Wellington with, common facilities for families to stay occasionally. ;

Usually the M.P.’s wife is an unpaid electorate secretary, her life “invaded” by her husband’s job — making appointments, answering telephones, representing her husband at engagements, and occasionally collecting abuse. A part-time secretary, paid for by the Legislative Department, would be a godsend. The secretary could be shared by two or three electorates.

M.P.s spend their night allowance on accommodation as close to the Beehive as they can. Often this is low standard, and inadequate for visiting wives and families. They would welcome several rental apartment blocks within several kilometres of the Beehive.

-Wives are entitled to free unrestricted travel on scheduled airlines, rail and ferry services; an improvement on concessions to wives not long ago. Children can travel at half fare to be with dad during the session. M.P.s see.no “right” general age or stage at which to enter Parliament; It might be quite right for one young M.P. with a young family, and quite wrong for a man of 50 with his family off his hands, they say.