“He repeatedly puts words into the mouths of others — to make it seem like his views are universal,” writes Brian Tweed about David Seymour. (Photo: RNZ Phil Smith)

The verbal tricks rolled out by politicians are many and varied. Here, Brian Tweed picks apart one method that’s popular with ACT leader David Seymour.

 

Politicians are notorious for dodging questions and turning the kōrero around to suit their own agendas. We’ve come to expect them to stretch the truth, but listening to some of the rhetoric from our current government ministers is especially painful.

Chlöe Swarbrick put it best when she said: “We can’t leave politics to the politicians.”

As a university lecturer, I spend much of my time marking degree-level assignments, master’s and PhD theses, and writing and reviewing academic articles and books.

Recently, I decided to “mark” a transcript of one of David Seymour’s interviews as if it were a 100-level assignment.

It failed — badly. Not because a TV interview needs to meet university standards, but because the logic was flimsy, unsupported by evidence, and full of misleading rhetorical tactics. We have people running the country whose words wouldn’t pass a basic university assessment.

That should concern all of us.

One of the most striking techniques Seymour uses is what I’ll call political ventriloquism. He repeatedly puts words into the mouths of others — whether it’s the Waitangi Tribunal, iwi leaders, councils, developers, schools, a shadowy cast of nameless people, or even a future version of New Zealand, to make it seem like his views are universal.

This creates the illusion that his perspective is common sense, and that anyone who disagrees must be an outlier.

Another name for this tactic is gaslighting.

Gaslighting is usually associated with personal abuse — manipulating someone into doubting their own reality. In politics, it’s a way of making entire groups of people question what they know to be true.

Let’s look at some key examples from the interview that I assessed — last year’s Q + A between Jack Tame and David Seymour about the Principles of the Treaty of  Waitangi Bill. I’ve highlighted in bold where the ventriloquism happens.

Inventing a collective opinion

Very early in the interview, Seymour says:

“[We have] a version of the principles that’s totally inconsistent with liberal democracy and says that there is a partnership between races in terms of the Court of Appeal . . . other people say there is a partnership between the Crown and Māori . . . and the problem with that is that we look at ourselves as part of a collective based on ancestry.

Who is this “we”? Who exactly is looking at themselves in this way? Seymour is making it seem like the whole country is grappling with a problem that he alone has identified.

And what exactly is wrong with looking at ourselves as “part of a collective”? It might be anathema to those who believe in the cult of individualism, but we’re all part of collectives of one kind or another, whether that’s based on ancestry, nationality, politics, ideology, or whatever — and many of us don’t see it as a problem at all.

Imaginary oppression

Seymour continues:

“. . . rather than as a group of individuals who have all different things about them, all different hopes and aspirations and challenges and choices trying to overcome what they face on their time on earth to flourish in their own way. That’s what we should be looking at, but instead, we’re told: ‘You’re tangata whenua. You’re tangata Tiriti. You have a different role in society.’”

Who exactly is doing this telling? Who is assigning people to these rigid roles and limiting their freedom? Seymour creates a shadowy force controlling our society, when in reality being tangata Tiriti or tangata whenua is a simple recognition of historical fact — not a set of restrictions.

No one is being forced into a role. Of course, as tangata Tiriti, I can’t be tangata whenua. But why would I want to be? Or want to deny the existence of tangata whenua?

The mysterious enforcers

Seymour claims:

“We are constantly held back by this idea that before you can take a person seriously, you’ve got to ask: ‘What’s your ancestry? Which side of the Treaty partnership [are you on]? How should I talk to you?’”

It’s hard to know exactly what Seymour is referring to here. Perhaps he means the practice of pepeha. But pepeha isn’t an interrogation — it’s just introducing yourself in a Māori way. It’s certainly not a barrier to being taken seriously. Again, Seymour has invented imaginary agents enforcing rules that don’t exist.

Pepeha assumes that you are legitimate and important enough for others to learn about who you are, where you come from, and how you might be related to them. These are all good things to know. Pākehā can do it too, in a slightly different way.

A spectral Waitangi Tribunal

He goes on:

“And you see this in the recent report by the Waitangi Tribunal on my bill . . . where they said this bill will trample all Māori. Well, hang on a second, actually, since when do they speak for a whole race of people? Since when do all of us have to think the same and take the view that the Waitangi Tribunal think?”

This is a more subtle example of ventriloquism. First, Seymour misrepresents a statement of what the Waitangi Tribunal thinks (that the bill will trample all Māori), turning it into an accusation that the Tribunal is presuming to speak for all Māori.

He’s implying that an expert body delivering an opinion on the impact of a policy on a group of people is somehow denying them the right to think for themselves or forcing them to take the same view.

This spectral Tribunal doesn’t exist, and no one is claiming this happened, except Seymour. 

Developers in distress

Seymour argues:

“The people who are leaders of a Māori organisation, an iwi or rūnanga, in my area, get consulted about development of, say, a subdivision of more houses for other people, [which] means that they can hold it up. They have to do a cultural impact assessment. A lot of developers will tell you that that can be really grating and hold up developments for years.

What that means is . . . I live in a country where it’s harder to get homes built . . . because the RMA has to observe or at least have reference to the principles of the Treaty of Waitangi. The councils go away and say: ‘Well, the Treaty is a partnership, so therefore, we have to consult both partners.’”

How many developers? Which ones? Seymour’s “a lot of developers” remain nameless, and we’re given no evidence that cultural impact assessments are the main cause of delays. Nor any evidence that councils are seeing this as a burden.

It’s just another instance of ventriloquism where Seymour creates an invisible army, puts words into their mouths, and makes it sound like this vague group of people all agree with him.

Schools gone rogue?

On education, Seymour paints a dramatic picture:

“Instead of asking, well, you know, what is actually the best knowledge in the world for the students that are going through school now to have to survive and thrive . . . we say, ‘Ooh, well, hang on a minute, what does the Treaty say? What does the partnership require?’

All of a sudden, you find that your school has decided to take on compulsory te reo, and whether or not you like it or want it, you are required to be pulled out of maths and English and science to do a language that only a few, 100,000 people, in the world actually speak.

Instead of saying, I respect people’s right to do it but no thank you for me . . . You can’t go down to your school and say that because people say, ‘Oh no, you’re racist.’”

Firstly, Seymour pretends that schools ignore the “best knowledge”. They don’t, and they can’t, because the required knowledge is in the national curriculum.

Then, apparently, schools all consult the Treaty instead to decide which knowledge to teach. They don’t, they can’t, because they follow the national curriculum.

Then “your school” all of sudden decides that te reo Māori will be compulsory and takes children out of maths, English and science. Which schools have done this? Where are students being yanked from maths to learn te reo?

No one is taking kids out of maths, English and science to learn te reo.

Then, there are mysterious people in “your school” who call you a racist if you don’t want your child to learn te reo Māori. Not only are invisible people doing this, they are having words put in their mouths. It’s just not true.

Once again, Seymour presents fiction as fact.

The world agrees — apparently

Seymour claims:

“The reason that people admire New Zealand is that compared to any of those other three Anglo countries [USA, Canada, Australia], we’ve taken the view that all New Zealanders have equal rights — that’s actually what our Treaty says.”

Apparently, the world admires New Zealand precisely because of ACT’s policies, which alone are responsible for good racial harmony.

Who are these admirers? When did the Treaty ever say that? He Whakaputanga and Te Tiriti make it clear that the rights of Māori and settlers were distinct. The idea that the Treaty is about universal equality — rather than the protection of tangata whenua rights — is a spurious reinterpretation, not historical fact.

A future New Zealand that sounds suspiciously like David Seymour

Finally, Seymour predicts:

“One day we’ll get to a stage where people say: ‘Yeah, yeah, people used to make all these legal arguments and say [the Treaty is] a partnership, but eventually we realised that being separated into two different racial categories was a dumb way to run a country. Now we’re a country with equal rights . . . and we will be a much better country and so much more able to solve all our problems.’”

Seymour pulls off a remarkable feat of ventriloquism. He calls up an entire future New Zealand to validate his argument, claiming that tomorrow’s New Zealanders will inevitably see things his way. Gaslighting the nation by inventing a future one that’s telling us just how dumb and crazy we are now.

Conclusion

There are many other examples of ventriloquism in the interview. In a 30-minute interview, David Seymour creates “dummies” who say what he wants them to say at least 14 times, almost one every two minutes on average.

David Seymour’s ventriloquism isn’t just about rhetorical flair. By presenting his views as the consensus, he erases the voices of those who genuinely hold different perspectives. He also fuels distrust — suggesting that Māori rights and Treaty obligations are inventions designed to limit individual freedom.

But reality tells a different story. The Waitangi Tribunal exists because breaches of the Treaty happened. Tangata whenua and tangata Tiriti exist because that is simply the nature of our shared history. Pepeha, te reo, and cultural impact assessments aren’t barriers — they’re ways of recognising and respecting Aotearoa’s unique identity.

Of course, David Seymour isn’t the only politician who uses rhetorical techniques and logical fallacies of one kind or another to score points and make himself appear good and right at the expense of the opposition. Plenty of politicians employ similar tactics. But — to combine one of David Seymour’s characteristic phrases with one of Christopher Luxon’s — what I would say to you is, doesn’t that just tell you everything that’s wrong with our political system?

Yeah, nah, we can’t leave politics to the politicians. And we can’t let them get away with ventriloquism, either. The next time a politician claims that “everyone” thinks a certain way — ask who the “everyone” is and who is actually speaking the words.

 

Brian Tweed is originally from the UK. He has worked extensively as a mathematics and science teacher and advisor in both English-medium and Māori-medium schools in New Zealand for the past 30 years. Brian is currently a senior lecturer in Te Kura o te Mātauranga, Te Kunenga ki Pūrehūroa / Massey University, teaching the history, sociology and politics of education.

E-Tangata, 2025

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