Cunliffe takes the Brash prize
We may not like it when appearances dominate substance in public affairs, but, when it comes to leadership, imagery really does appear to carry weight. The most famous example was the image of Don Brash literally walking the plank as doubts about his leadership circulated. Cartoonists loved it. Admittedly, that gaffe could be put down to sheer accident and lack of foresight. But Brash's recent self-portrait displaying his torso through an unbuttoned shirt offers no such excuse. The man isn't totally lacking in critical self-awareness (after all, he is capable of reflecting upon some lack of self-control in his sex life), but this particular choice of image reveals that he still hasn't learned much in the last decade. He could at least have removed his specs. Or just done the full monty... (perish the thought!)
That brings me to David Cunliffe and his Robinson-Crusoe-with-smart-phone pics. Photographer Peter Meecham got very lucky. Not only unbuttoned shirt, but rolled up trousers and bare feet too. So, how are we to interpret these photos, now that they are out there for the public to view? Do they depict a lonely and marooned loser who is reflecting ruefully on being ship-wrecked and having a hopeless future? Or should we sympathise with him? After all, time out close to the water gives a good opportunity to reflect. Who hasn't done that?
Whatever his reflections were, the best way to judge the man is by his subsequent actions. A week after (and not immediately after) the election, he resigned. But then he put his name forward again for re-election as Labour Party leader. This means that he must believe that he has enough support from affiliated unions and party members to have a chance of re-election, even after leading the party to its worst defeat ever. (I'm assuming that 1922 doesn't count, as Labour was only 6 years old then, had not yet been in office, and was on the rise.) It can only be another disaster for Labour if he were re-elected as leader, and a gift for Mr Key. I'll assume that party members have more sense than that, unless they prove me wrong. But Cunliffe's decision to put himself forward again suggests (to put this kindly) that he lacks critical self-awareness.