Hayden Donnell looking old
A real photo of the author writing this article* (*not really, AI was involved)

OPINIONPoliticsMay 28, 2025

Radical millennial idea: don’t raise the age of superannuation eligibility

Hayden Donnell looking old
A real photo of the author writing this article* (*not really, AI was involved)

On the one hand, superannuation is putting huge and increasing pressure on the government’s books. On the other hand, if you raise the age of entitlement I will emit a supersonic howl of despair.

Prime minister Christopher Luxon was unequivocal when asked on Newstalk ZB last week if National is still committed to raising the age of entitlement for superannuation. “We have a National Party position, which is that we want to move it to 67,” he said, before surprising listeners with the news that he once ran an airline. “When I was at Air NZ it was very common for people 67, early 70s, still able to work and keep working, and still doing a good job.”

His deputy Nicola Willis gave the same commitment in an interview on Monday with Herald NOW host Ryan Bridge, while adding a caveat. “If you were to make any change in that area I’ve always been of the view that you’d have to phase it in over a long period of time,” she said.

That period of time, specifically, is “from one millisecond after the last Boomer dies until the first millennial retires”. National’s policy is to gradually lift the age of entitlement for superannuation to 67 starting in 2044, hitting the sweet spot between the former generation shuffling off this mortal coil and the oldest of the latter starting to claim age-restricted universal basic income.

Baby Boomer deaths will peak in 2044. The first Millennial will retire in 2046.
I’m sure it’s a coincidence.

On the one hand, it’s easy to see why governments feel the urge to rein in superannuation spending. It’s forecast to cost $24.7bn in the coming year, dwarfing the amount we pay for more controversial welfare payments such as the Jobseeker benefit or rental supplements for politicians to live in their own houses. That number is projected to rise to $45.3bn, or 21.3% of total tax revenue, by 2037. Superannuation costs more than police, corrections, transport, conservation, the courts, the environment, Māori development and “women” combined.

On the other hand, get absolutely fucked come on man how much shit can people under the age of 40 have shovelled onto them from a great height god damn it christ on a bike argh argh argh no.

If you were born after 1980, you’re currently on your third or fourth once-in-a-lifetime global financial crisis since entering the workforce. Meanwhile, through your entire working life, New Zealand has been subject to a housing crisis which has driven property ownership rates down to their lowest point in 80 years. 

As these factual, measurable, events have taken place, younger people have been subjected to a blitzkrieg of media takes from people who bought a house in 1953 for two tuppence and a medium-sized donkey on how they too could be rich if they’d just give up 42-inch flat screen TVs and trips to Bali. Worse, property-owning under-40s routinely advise their less fortunate peers they too can buy a house if they simply employ some hard work, gumption, and $750,000 from their parents.

In the circumstances, raising the super age for me and my sadsack peers could feel like a slap in the cheek to someone whose cheek has already been turned into pulp by all the slapping.

Two Face from The Dark Knight
A millennial recuperating after a vigorous round of intergenerational cheek slapping.

But those are just emotional reasons. The best argument for raising the super age – that life expectancies are increasing – is looking increasingly tenuous. Average life spans only crept up marginally in the 2020 Census, and in some countries are actually decreasing. Meanwhile, any increase to the age of eligibility for super will hit poorer and disenfranchised people the hardest. 

Not every millennial is lucky enough to have a job working at Air NZ or sitting in front of the computer watching Toby Manhire research Juggernaut season two. Setting the super age at 67 would mean people in manual labour roles have to spend two more years adding minor injuries to their increasingly malfunctioning bodies before finally collapsing into the arms of a $500 per week government payout. Māori and Pacific people would feel the literal pain. They’re more likely to be in labouring jobs, and have life expectancies six to eight years lower than Pākehā.

There has to be a better way. The most obvious solution is means testing. But that comes with downsides. The means tested Best Start payment is currently being accessed by just half of estimated eligible people, and nearly a quarter of its cost is being swallowed up in admin.

Some premier economists propose liberalising immigration laws instead, allowing an influx of younger workers to support our rich retirees and deliver much-needed economic growth. To take that course, New Zealand would simply have to dispose of xenophobia and zone for rapid housing growth; moves which I’m sure would be taken in good spirits and not result in any roving bands of residents association members firebombing apartment buildings in Mt Eden.

Perhaps we could even impose higher taxes to make up the revenue we need to provide for our elderly people. Though a large percentage of wage earnings are currently diverted to the IRD, my research has uncovered another source of wealth called “capital” which appears to be lightly taxed. Perhaps some of the income generated from this mysterious asset class could go toward the greater good.

Millennials have spent their formative years selling kidneys to pay rent on a draughty villa and getting bullied by gen Z for admittedly being huge losers. They’ll spend the next 20 helping fund their parents’ generation’s Mediterranean cruises. Surely after that they can have a break? I guess not. Come back to The Spinoff in the year 2045 for my blistering takes on bingo etiquette and how the superannuation age should be lifted in 2070, starting with gen Z and gen alpha.

Keep going!
Winston Peters, the ultimate deputy prime minister (Imagery: Getty Images/Warner Bros/The Spinoff)
Winston Peters, the ultimate deputy prime minister (Imagery: Getty Images/Warner Bros/The Spinoff)

OPINIONPoliticsMay 28, 2025

The highs, lows and WTFs of Winston Peters, deputy prime minister

Winston Peters, the ultimate deputy prime minister (Imagery: Getty Images/Warner Bros/The Spinoff)
Winston Peters, the ultimate deputy prime minister (Imagery: Getty Images/Warner Bros/The Spinoff)

Thank you for your service, Winston Raymond Peters.

On Saturday, Winston Peters will finish his third stint as deputy prime minister of New Zealand, so here’s a selection of highlights from the storied career of the National-NZ-First-coalition-deputy-prime-minister-turned-outcast-turned-Labour-NZ-First-coalition-deputy-prime-minister-turned-outcast-turned-NZ-First-Act-National-coalition-deputy-prime-minister-turned … ?

High: The king kingmaker

The MMP system has (mostly) been kind to Winston Peters. The NZ First leader’s willingness to partner with either major political party has led to him essentially deciding the outcomes of the 1996, 2017 and 2023 general elections, each time having enough bargaining power to secure the role of deputy prime minister. Perhaps the kingmaker was the king all along.

Winston Peters in 1998: young, sprightly and full of surprises to come (Photo: Ross Land/Getty Images)

WTF: Causing the 1998 coalition collapse 

A dark time in Peters’ career, though it certainly kept him in the headlines: following the introduction of MMP in 1996, NZ First formed the first coalition government with National, which lasted about 21 months before Peters was sacked from cabinet. He and prime minister Jenny Shipley – who had staged a coup against Jim Bolger in 1997 – had failed to see eye-to-eye over her plans to sell off the government’s shares in Wellington Airport, and Peters walked out of government altogether.

The coalition may have been over, but Shipley’s government limped on with the backing of some of Peters’ former NZ First colleagues who were unwilling to join him on the opposition benches. Only one of the people mentioned above is still in government now, so who’s the real loser?

High: Covering Jacinda Ardern’s maternity leave

As deputy prime minister to the Labour prime minister Jacinda Ardern from 2017 to 2020, Peters’ primary role was handbrake, whether it was preventing the introduction of a capital gains tax, delivering Auckland’s much-mythologised light rail system, reaching a settlement for the Ihumātao occupation, repealing three strikes legislation, putting cameras on fishing boats or passing hate speech legislation in light of the March 15 terror attacks, among other things.

Then, for six weeks in 2018, Peters got to be prime minister while Ardern took maternity leave, and despite concerns from some quarters, his tenure passed pretty uncontroversially.

Prime minister Jacinda Ardern and deputy Winston Peters in October 2017. Truly a different time. (Photo: Hagen Hopkins/Getty Images)

WTF: Bussygate

It was a fine Saturday morning when Peters took to X to let everyone know that Green MP Benjamin Doyle had used the word “bussy” and was also a parent. What ensued was about two weeks of political reporters running around the halls of parliament trying to figure out what “bussy” really meant, if we should be offended, and whether a spiral emoji was a kind of Batman symbol for paedophiles.

In the end, it must not have mattered that much to Peters after all, because he declined a one-on-one conversation with Doyle and has moved onto fighting hecklers at Wellington central train station. But it was kinda weird and homophobic, and made a good case for government officials needing to follow at least five young gay people on Instagram before purporting to speak for all New Zealanders.

High: Foreign affairs, ministered

There’s something to be said about a minister who manages to do his best work outside of the country. Three-time deputy prime minister and three-time foreign affairs minister, Peters has been described as a “born diplomat”, and his air miles leave no question of his commitment to the role. During this term alone he has spent 152 days travelling, visiting 44 countries, pushed for Aotearoa to retain an independent foreign policy, made Phil Goff jobless, and faced Trump officials. 

It really all goes to show that sometimes the best export a country can have is a crotchety older gentleman.

winston peters holding up a sign that says "no"
Do not Google the origin of this photo.

Low: Something something Mexicans?

Despite the strides made in foreign affairs, maintaining positive domestic relations with New Zealanders who also happen to be immigrants (specifically from Mexico or something frighteningly similar, like perhaps the Philippines) has been a sore spot for Peters and his cohort lately. While his NZ First deputy Shane Jones has called to “send the Mexicans home”, Peters has opted for a softer policy, one which asks for New Zealanders born overseas who have the gumption to see themselves as New Zealanders to “show some gratitude” and also never, ever use the word Aotearoa. No intel yet on whether a Latin America Reset will be established.

WTF: Putting the PM in his place

Slagging off the prime minister is not a skill you’d expect his deputy to have, and yet here we are. Luxon was “struggling” in the top job because he was “so new to politics”, Peters told The Post in November, and by March the deputy prime minister was reminding everyone he had “made” Christopher Luxon the PM. Come April, Peters told Luxon (via RNZ) that he should “call me next time” before giving a speech to world leaders that supposedly included some “hysterical”  takes on the US trade war. Watch this space.

High: Living to see another day

Peters turned 80 in April. Surely that’s something to celebrate.

High: Some great comebacks

“Lefty shill”; “wokester loser”; “you look like bollocks”; “moron”; “don’t be a stupid little schoolboy”; “on the marae, Megan, you keep quiet”; to name a few.

Do you remember where you were the first time you saw this image?

Low: Entrenching woke in the parliamentary vernacular

Some things should only exist on the internet.

High: Fighting declining parliamentary standards

It’s just not the same place it was back in 1979.

Low: What is a woman?

Who the fuck cares?

WTF: Whatever comes next

A snap election? An increased focus on fighting the war on woke? Knocking out David Seymour and sending him in an ambulance hitting 100km/h? Basically more of the same? Only time will tell.

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