Election 2023 time capsule: The campaign's memorable moments

From pirates to protein bars, from dinosaurs to lightning strikes - all with a generous sprinkling of 'bulldust' - the 2023 election certainly had its fair share of strangeness.

The high pressure, long days, seemingly endless travel, and growing desperation during elections can affect even the most seasoned campaigners. Constant scrutiny from media only adds to that, and - with reporters on constant lookout for fresh angles - political news during elections can start to feel frenzied or just plain weird.

With cost of living taking centre stage, there was little money for new promises. Disruption by fringe protest groups and increased racial rhetoric also brought a heightened sense of tension.

National must now rapidly pivot from campaigning to the realities of forming and running government. Meanwhile, Labour is picking up the pieces after a stinging defeat as the smaller parties grapple with larger caucuses and changing fortunes of their own.

But as the dust settles and those conversations largely take place behind closed doors, let's consider with the benefit of hindsight what brought us here and the standout events - rather than the policies - that made political history.

Rumours and revelations

Let's start with the wacky things this campaign revealed about some of the candidates - some of which proved untrue.

First, the dinosaurs rumour - a false suggestion seized on by comedian Guy Williams that National leader Christopher Luxon cancelled an Air New Zealand advert featuring the prehistoric beasties - due to, according to rumour - an absence of belief (or perhaps a surfeit of faith).

Newshub had it debunked by Luxon himself - who when asked if he believed dinosaurs roamed the earth, said "absolutely, what kind of question is that, mate?".

We also learned both he and Labour leader Chris Hipkins favour the T-Rex, although Hipkins also has a soft spot for the "friendly" triceratops. Luxon appeared in a TV interview the next day in front of a frolicking velociraptor, seeming to laugh it all off.

But he also repeatedly criticised the question itself, calling it a "jump the shark" moment. Sure, it's a bit silly, but if true would speak to his belief in science - worth asking the question, at least.

Now, for balance, debunking a rumour about Hipkins: no, he doesn't have a male partner. The outgoing PM on election night paid tribute to his partner, Toni. This public revelation of a relatively new relationship had some on social media soon spiralling into speculation.

My Mum just called to tell me that Chris Hipkins has just come out in his concession speech. That wasn't on my election night bingo card. Turns out my uncle heard the words "partner" and "Tony" and made several huge leaps of boomer logic

— @damianchristie.bsky.social (@damianchristie) October 14, 2023

Hipkins later confirmed to reporters that Toni was, in fact, a woman he had known for some time who he recently reconnected with.

"Didn't mean to start that rumour," he said.

We also learned about NZ First candidate Lee Donoghue who, during a youth debate, answered a question about the threat of climate change with an anecdote about being struck by lightning in Rome - at an Iron Maiden concert, no less. The tale harks back to the three-strikes story of Maureen Pugh, who won West Coast-Tasman off Damien O'Connor this year. Many of Donoghue's other views attracted boos from the young Auckland audience at that debate, particularly around trans issues.

Various other candidates had their previous unpopular views aired during the campaign. Several ACT hopefuls were removed or removed themselves over their comments, while National's Ryan Hamilton held on to eventually win in Hamilton East after disavowing his decades-held views on fluoride. Labour list candidate Deborah Rhodes also disavowed her previous claims about the Gardasil vaccine, but was less successful.

Food also featured in the revelations, with Luxon making a dubious claim during one of the debates that he spends just $60 a week on food. He said he'd misheard the question, and the $60 was just his weekly grocery shop for his breakfasts at his Wellington flat - he eats out for lunch, and wasn't counting spending for the full Auckland family household.

"So what I meant was when I arrive in Wellington, I go to the supermarket," he later told Newshub. "People are quite surprised I do. I go off and I just buy my breakfast stuff, so usually it's some Weet-Bix and some oats."

That's some premium pricey Weet-Bix - maybe the recent shortage added to the cost. He would do well to get some shopping tips from his own MP Tama Potaka who, during a debate, said the $4.15 an individual with no kids could get from National's tax cuts would be enough to buy "a couple of protein bars and a lot of rice".

Expect the unexpected

Election campaigns always come with a few surprises, and 2023 was no exception.

With security concerns rising, an early walkabout from Labour leader Chris Hipkins met with plenty of disruption from Freedoms NZ-aligned supporters - including Karl Mokaraka, a candidate for the fringe party. Hipkins didn't seem too perturbed but Mokaraka soon made another appearance - crashing National leader Christopher Luxon's media standup by nonchalantly hanging over a fence.

"You're no slim shady, buddy," Luxon said as supporters tried in vain to remove the fence-sitter, "you're not being respectful". Mokaraka eventually left, but reappeared at ACT's party launch, with some reports suggesting he snuck in wearing a false moustache. How dastardly. One wonders if he would have got so far if the eagle-eyed and rapid security guard at The Press debate - who managed to yank a protest banner before the protesters had fully risen to their feet - was present.

Mokaraka's casual style allowed him to disrupt the politicians largely without violence and won him some laughs and media attention - but with Freedoms taking just 0.3 percent of the preliminary vote it doesn't seem to have won him support. On the flipside it also makes such disruption seem more palatable and camouflages the real threat of violence the politicians can face - such as with the trespass of a man from Hana-Rāwhiti Maipi-Clarke's home after te Pāti Māori raised concerns about "multiple home invasions".

Another fringe protest party, Liz Gunn's NZ Loyal, took a more respectable 1.15 percent: still nowhere near enough to enter Parliament - without a list seat, anyway. Their chances can't have been helped by Gunn's failure to register nearly all of the party's electorate candidates. She tearfully blamed an unnamed staff member's human error, but ultimately took responsibility.

There was some suggestion this would have helped NZ First's polling, but it likely pales in comparison to the effect of Shane Jones' TikTok presence. Winston Peters' second-in-command took to the platform like a duck to water, turning his trademark verbosity towards clumsily sung politically tinged pop covers.

Peters himself had a couple of standout social media posts of his own: the infamous rodeo advert, and his reading of Rudyard Kipling poem "If -".

Rounding out the trio of middle-age-or-older men in suits enthusiastically posting videos was Labour's Andrew Little, whose dubstep tweet emphasised his love for votes. Perhaps this goes some way to explaining his decision to quit politics after the party's drubbing in the polls (and a busy 12 years in Parliament).

Speaking of love, one of Hipkins' campaign stops in Dunedin was to the "Love Shack", a student flat that - thanks to Labour legislation - was not so dingy and cold as might be expected. The leader's visit to the amorous abode of six mostly female students was also less scandalous than this description might initially suggest, largely centred on donuts and dentistry.

On a sombre note of unexpectedness, campaigning for the Port Waikato seat was brought to a halt after the death of ACT's candidate there, Neil Christensen. A tragic loss to his family and community, Neil was also the only registered specialist poultry vet in the country.

His death also triggers a by-election and, as the Electoral Commission explained, it means an extra seat added to Parliament after the by-election, due to pre-MMP rules.

Silly scraps and unforced errors

Pressure turns carbon into diamonds, but it can also turn elections into grab-bags of desperate promises.

Luxon's decision to release a polished PR video saying he would work with Peters, if needed, to form a government has been thoroughly canvassed - along with campaign chair Chris Bishop's decision to raise the spectre of a second election should those negotiations stumble. Credulity was stretched to the limit when Luxon - asked about how he could work with NZ First considering one candidate's racially charged statements - said he "didn't know" Peters.

But with the memory of Judith Collins' at-times improvisational approach to policymaking so close in the rear-view, the main parties appeared to be taking a more considered approach - until the leaders' debates. Luxon and Hipkins got through the first one without much trouble (despite Luxon's far-fetched claim that Hipkins was the best debater in New Zealand) but in the second, Newshub's Paddy Gower managed to extract a stunning number of firm positions from both - including menopause leave, designating cats as pests, and a ban on deadly drones - Luxon even flirted with a promise to decriminalise MDMA.

Luxon in the final 1News leaders debate also promised he would secure free trade with India - a tall order considering negotiations previously broke down, and India's fiercely protective of its own dairy industry.

Many of these rapid-fire promises were made without much consideration of cost - startling, considering most of the campaign was about money - or rather, the lack of it. With inflation high, parties were either promising to cut spending or bring in new taxes.

This meant plenty of scrutiny on spending plans: Labour's GST plan was trashed by economists, and they couldn't make National's tax plan add up either. We won't go into the details here, but the response from both parties boiled down to: expert economists don't really know what they're talking about. Hipkins argued the GST benefits were not aimed at economists (which is beside the point) and all Luxon would say was he was confident in National's "rock solid" numbers, though this was never backed up with rock-solid proof.

The fiscal fisticuffs eventually got to the point where both Labour and National - having each released their own fiscal plans - unveiled supposedly "honest" versions of their opponents'. Voters would have been left despairing over either side's financial competence.

The verbal scrapping across the three leaders' debates also got increasingly fiery, with Hipkins bringing more energy and - at times - anger as the campaign continued and Labour's polling remained low.

Luxon often resorted to telling his opponent to be more respectful and restrained - capping it off with: "you need to listen to Taylor Swift and calm down". Not to be put off, Hipkins would often challenge Luxon to answer the question being asked - and told reporters later "to quote another Taylor Swift song, I think he needs to shake it off".

But Hipkins most shocking moment was in the final debate just days before the election, with a reference to the scandal surrounding National's Sam Uffindell: "people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones - none of my MPs beat people up with a bed leg".

The most debasing debate was perhaps over the debate the leaders didn't have: when Hipkins' poorly timed bout of Covid put their South Island showdown in doubt. Hipkins' offer to debate via Zoom was laughably impractical; Luxon's refusal to either reschedule or trade blows with an underling (of little benefit to him regardless of a win or loss) had Labour MPs tweeting photoshopped pics of him in a chicken suit.

With only about a week left of campaigning, it really showed how both parties were scratching in the dirt for any scrap that could be used against their adversary. Within hours of the debate being called off, each side was accusing the other of lies and misinformation.

This was on-brand for the campaign: Labour had needed to retract several false claims about National's policies, but commentators also took a dim view of National's campaign chair Chris Bishop's claiming early on this would be the "most negative election campaign in New Zealand's history".

Sunshine, ice cream and pastry

For such a supposedly negative campaign, there were many light and bright spots, with the leaders keen to show how fun and relatable they are.

For a start, there were the visits by leaders from Labour, National, ACT and the Greens to Rollickin Gelato in Christchurch, which - along with menu staples like the Gerry Brownie - featured politician-themed treats with flavours like David s'more, orange choc Chippy, blueberry Lux, Shaw the kiwi, and Rawiri raspberry - which patrons were then asked to vote on (the s'more won).

Luxon and Hipkins also had more than their fair share of baked goods, with Luxon taking a morning out to make Southland cheese rolls, and Hipkins constantly bombarded with sausage rolls, his love of the pastry made famous after being presented some by the incoming King Charles in May. On the last day of the campaign, he admitted it had become something of a chore.

"There have certainly been moments where there's been food in front of me where I sort of thought 'I really have to eat this but I really don't want to', because I have been eating a lot. I have been eating for my country."

He seemed to take plenty of opportunities to work the weight off, with campaign activities including a rugby simulation game, go-karting, and at one point a very brisk walk - with no prospective voters present - at Punakaiki.

Seymour also completed some hot laps at Hampton Downs, and toured the country in part with a plane donated to the party, nicknamed Flying Pinky, along with his campaign bus Big Pinky. He took it in stride when a party billboard was glammed up with extra pink, in a Barbie movie crossover that literally painted him as Ken - referring to it several times during the campaign.

Campaign buses are often a surreal part of the election experience, lending a road-trip atmosphere. This was no more on show than when National's Back on Track bus hit the road - with a lot of downtime to kill, Luxon played the party's campaign tune, "Day is Gonna Come", by Royal Deluxe. A lot. Probably too much, according to one source.

There was plenty of cross-party camaraderie on show during the campaign trail when a Te Pāti Māori wagon pulled up beside the bus - parked up at a toilet stop off State Highway 1 on Election Day eve - and gave National's Tama Potaka a friendly heckling.

Stepping that friendliness up a notch, the Greens and Te Pāti Māori co-leaders Marama Davidson and Debbie Ngarewa-Packer shared high-fives, hugs and supportive cheers at the first "Powerbrokers" debate. It was a stark contrast with the animosity between Seymour and Peters, whose personal dislike of one another has repeatedly clashed with National's openness to working with both. This debate brought out some classic Winstonisms including his frequent references to WWII, long trousers, and bull dust.

And finally, who could forget Luxon fencing with a pirate?