Better by Rejection

From my usual seat at the far end of the table in the Minister’s office, I watch another tense briefing unfold about Māori unemployment statistics.

Being a Private Secretary means I see these moments play out daily, but this one feels different.

“Show me what’s really happening,” the Minister demands, drumming fingers on the latest unemployment report. He’s more irritated than usual.

The Deputy Secretary launches into what I recognise as the standard response – carefully crafted phrases about “complex underlying factors” and “multiple interpretative frameworks.”

I’ve heard this dance before, seen it drafted in countless memos. The Minister, who has a background in employment creation, is tired of hearing the messages.

I keep my face neutral as the Minister sighs.

Eight months into the role, and the Minister has learned to spot the difference between genuine complexity and what we call ‘departmental padding.’

When the Minister asks who actually analysed these numbers, I already know where this is heading.

An hour later, the Minister’s office has been transformed into an impromptu data lab.

Three junior analysts from the department’s analytics team sit with their laptops, screens glowing with scatter plots and trend lines. The youngest analyst is speaking rapidly, her enthusiasm breaking through our usual formal boundaries.

“When we disaggregate by rohe and age group, Minister, there’s this clear pattern,” she explains, pointing to her screen. “Our rangatahi in provincial areas are cycling through jobs every few months. The aggregate numbers hide it, but the churn rate…” She stops, glancing at the Deputy Secretary.

I recognise that hesitation – the moment when institutional caution collides with raw truth. But the Minister leans forward: “Keep going. Please.” The Deputy Secretary nods to her.

Her analysis cuts through the usual bureaucratic layers – young Māori workers following cheaper rents from town to town, employment statistics that look stable but mask a story of community disruption. It’s the reality I see in the ministerial correspondence I process daily, finally captured in data. It’s also the reality the Minister has been hearing from his community and what his Caucus colleagues have been raising every week.

When the Minister asks for the Associate Minister to join the briefing, I slip out to arrange it, hearing behind me the continued discussion of regional patterns and community impacts. Returning, I notice how the energy has shifted – the Deputy Secretary standing quietly by the door, the political advisor typing furiously, the analysts finally speaking their “truth”.

This, I think, arranging freshwater glasses, is what we’re supposed to be doing – letting the real story emerge from behind our careful walls of process and protocol. Sometimes it takes a Minister willing to push past the first layer of advice to get there.

Scenes like this – where ministerial challenge drives deeper analysis and better outcomes – emerged repeatedly in my conversations with those who have lived these dynamics at the highest levels.

*Please note that this post is fictional. The stories shared are narratives used in workshops on free and frank advice and are drawn from my PhD research.