Integrity Briefing: The Boardroom's Manifesto - How NZ's corporate elite lobbies in plain sight

Sep 24, 2025

Each year, the New Zealand Herald’s “Mood of the Boardroom” survey offers a meticulously curated glimpse into the political psyche of the nation’s corporate elite. It is presented as a neutral snapshot of opinion, a barometer of business confidence. Yet, to read it as such is to miss its primary function. The survey is not a passive reflection of a “mood”; it is an actively constructed piece of political communication, a public-facing manifesto for a sophisticated and concerted lobbying effort.

The 2025 edition, surveying 150 of the country’s top chief executives and directors, lays bare an agenda from a powerful, unified, and increasingly impatient elite. With CEO confidence in the New Zealand economy plummeting from a nine-year high of 3.23/5 last year to just 2.81/5, the message is clear: the status quo is unacceptable, and change is demanded.

This is more than just sentiment; it is a political tool used to broadcast a specific policy mandate and apply immense pressure on the government. The survey’s very existence, sponsored by many of the same corporations whose leaders are surveyed — including Deloitte, Foodstuffs, Westpac, and the powerful lobby group BusinessNZ — represents a form of self-reinforcing “soft lobbying”. Business interests fund a platform that legitimises and amplifies their own policy demands, framing them as the consensus view of “the boardroom” and, by extension, the national economic interest.

This column deconstructs that mandate, revealing what the business elite is lobbying for and how it prosecutes its agenda in the corridors of power.

The CEO Wishlist: A Blueprint for a corporate-centric state

While framed in the language of national interest and economic growth, the policy agenda pushed by the business lobby is highly self-serving. It is a blueprint designed to reduce corporate costs, shift risk onto the public balance sheet, and create new, state-guaranteed opportunities for private profit.

The Austerity-infrastructure paradox & the CGT ploy

The central pillar of the boardroom’s agenda is a call for fierce fiscal restraint, but one that is applied selectively. There is an overwhelming demand to rein in government spending, with one CEO summarising the mood by stating, “New Zealand’s fiscal challenge is not inadequate revenue but runaway expenditure”. This sentiment is backed by the numbers, with concern around the “efficacy of government spending” nearly doubling among CEOs from 16% last year to 31%. The prescription is to “focus on essential services” and live within current tax settings.

This call for austerity is paired with vehement opposition to any new taxes that might fall on business or accumulated wealth. A wealth tax remains deeply unpopular, with 81% opposed to its introduction. Similarly, 76% reject gift and estate duties, and a 75% majority opposes any increase in the overall tax take from businesses.

Yet, this fiscal hawkishness contains a profound contradiction. While demanding spending cuts, the business elite simultaneously makes urgent, cross-sectoral calls for a massive, state-facilitated infrastructure pipeline, with one CEO demanding “delivery needed, not just more announcements”. The question of how to pay for this is answered with a strategic pivot. A surprising 61% of CEOs now support “broadening the tax on asset gains”.

This is not a sudden conversion to the principles of tax fairness. It is a pragmatic calculation. A more detailed breakdown reveals only 34% support a capital gains tax (CGT) in principle, with 47% opposed, showing the support is highly conditional. A CGT is seen as the only politically viable mechanism to raise the revenue needed for the infrastructure they demand, and it is a tax they believe they can lobby to shape to their advantage — far preferable to a wealth tax. As one respondent noted, a CGT could be considered if it were part of a “tax rebalancing” that lifted the economy, a clear signal that any such tax must be accompanied by corporate-friendly concessions.

This agenda is complemented by a strong push for superannuation reform. A clear majority supports targeting superannuation by increasing the age of eligibility. Fisher Funds CEO Simon Power, a former National Party minister, explicitly calls for “bolder superannuation reform”, arguing for a long-term plan to increase employer KiwiSaver contributions, moving closer to Australia’s model.

The strategy is coherent: secure state-backed investment in profitable infrastructure while lobbying to reduce the state’s long-term social liabilities and minimising their own direct contribution to the bill. It is a textbook case of socialising risk while privatising profit.

The War on “Red Tape”: Redefining regulation as obstruction

A constant refrain throughout the survey is the need to remove regulatory roadblocks. “Reduce the regulation. Get out of the way”, demands Mainfreight managing director Don Braid. This sentiment is echoed across industries, from Pernod Ricard’s Kevin Mapson highlighting nine-month waits for hospitality licences to BusinessNZ CEO Katherine Rich targeting sector-specific rules that are “holding them back”.

The primary target of this frustration is the Resource Management Act (RMA). The most visceral expression of this comes from Port of Tauranga CEO Leonard Sampson, who details a seven-year battle to gain consent for a critical wharf expansion. He describes the process, which is being challenged by local hapu, as “enormously frustrating” and claims it can be “hijacked”.

This language is revealing. The use of “hijacked” deliberately reframes democratic consultation and the recognition of Treaty partner interests not as legitimate parts of the process, but as illegitimate and hostile obstacles to commercial progress. This rhetoric serves to build a public narrative that the RMA is broken, creating political momentum for reforms like the Fast-track Bill that weaken these consultation rights. The “war on red tape”, therefore, is not merely a technocratic push for efficiency. It is an ideological project to redefine the purpose of regulation itself — from a tool for balancing competing public, private, and environmental interests to a mechanism for enabling private development with minimal friction.

The Bipartisan ploy: Insulating profits from democracy

The demand for an infrastructure overhaul is universal and urgent. Westpac New Zealand chief executive Catherine McGrath calls for a “bipartisan path” on critical projects to give the private sector the certainty it needs to invest. Dentons chairman Hayden Wilson laments the lack of a cohesive strategy, urging investment for the “largest return over the longest time” and warning that a new government might “throw everything out, and start again”.

The call for “bipartisanship” is a particularly astute lobbying tactic. While sounding eminently reasonable, its practical effect is to de-politicise multi-billion-dollar investment decisions, locking in a multi-decade pipeline of projects that will be highly profitable for the construction, engineering, finance, and consulting sectors. In this context, “certainty” is a euphemism for guaranteed, low-risk, long-term returns underwritten by the taxpayer. Once a 30-year plan is agreed upon by the major parties, it becomes insulated from the vagaries of electoral cycles and changing public priorities. This creates a stable, low-risk environment for private capital, with firms like Aurecon and banks like Westpac positioned to secure long-term, state-underwritten returns. It is a strategy to secure guaranteed profits with public backing, shielded from democratic accountability.

The Political scorecard: A Public flogging

The survey’s numerical ratings of politicians should not be read as a simple popularity contest, but as a sophisticated and public performance management system. The boardroom is using its collective voice to punish leaders who fail to deliver on its agenda and strategically reward those whose portfolios and actions are directly aligned with its interests.

Censuring the leadership: “God Help New Zealand”

The verdict on the government’s leadership is brutal. Prime Minister Christopher Luxon, a former CEO himself, receives a shocking ranking of 15th out of 28 ministers, with his score plummeting from 3.73/5 last year to just 2.96/5. Finance Minister Nicola Willis fares little better, ranked 13th with a score of 3.09/5, a sharp fall from 3.88/5.

The commentary is just as damning. Luxon is criticised for being “not a good listener” and for failing to use his much-vaunted business “Rolodex”. One chairperson was quoted saying: “Luxon has been a disappointment. The public don’t like him. It’s too late for him. He needs to stand aside or be removed by his colleagues. Otherwise we will end up with the completely looney tune of Labour with the very left Greens and radical Māori party. God help New Zealand”. Willis is accused of chasing “cheap politics” over the price of butter and delivering “spin without substance”, with 43% of business leaders believing her growth agenda is failing.

This public humiliation in a high-profile survey is a deliberate act of political pressure. The results are strategically released to generate maximum media impact, fuelling narratives of a leadership crisis and forcing the Prime Minister and Finance Minister to spend their time defending their positions rather than advancing their agenda. It is a warning shot intended to force a change in direction or personnel.

Anointing the deliverers & The opposition vacuum

In stark contrast to the leaders, specific ministers whose portfolios are critical to the business agenda are lauded. Education and Immigration Minister Erica Stanford is ranked number one with a stellar 4.38/5, praised for her “superb” leadership and clear policy programme addressing skills and labour supply.

Infrastructure and RMA Reform Minister Chris Bishop is ranked third (3.80/5), and Trade Minister Todd McClay is fourth (3.74/5). By elevating these ministers far above the Prime Minister, the business community is sending a clear signal about who holds real power and whose agenda should be prioritised in Cabinet.

This pressure is amplified by the perceived lack of a credible alternative. The Opposition is rated abysmally. Labour leader Chris Hipkins scores a derisory 2.01/5, with his frontbench dismissed as “largely anonymous” “invisible”, and “hopeless”. The Green Party co-leaders fare even worse – Chlöe Swarbrick is rated 1.72, Marama Davidson 1.45 – and Te Pāti Māori co-leaders sink even lower, around 1.3.

With the centre-left deemed feeble and ineffectual by the corporate class, Luxon’s government knows it is under pressure only from its right flank – the business lobby and its political allies. There is no political cost for acceding to the boardroom’s demands, turning the political contest into a one-sided negotiation between the government and its corporate backers.

The Mechanics of influence and the façade of democracy

The “mood” expressed in the survey is prosecuted through concrete demands for institutionalised political influence, embedding corporate perspectives at the heart of executive decision-making.

Formalising the backdoor: A Demand for institutionalised access

The desire for direct, privileged access to power is explicit. A significant 69% of survey respondents want the Prime Minister’s Business Advisory Council reinstated — a call for a formalised, high-level channel of influence. Furthermore, 68% support reviving a formal decision-making partnership between business, government, and other sector leaders. The Institute of Directors justifies this by arguing, “New Zealand’s challenges are too complex for the Government to solve on its own. We need a genuine partnership”.

While sounding inclusive, these proposed bodies would give a small, unelected group of CEOs privileged status in policy formation. This is layered on top of existing access through lobby groups like BusinessNZ and corporate-funded think tanks like The New Zealand Initiative, which one CEO explicitly credits for insights from an international trip. The language of “partnership” is co-opted to make privileged access look like good governance.

The “Not Representative” defence: An Inadvertent confession

Faced with this damning report card, both Luxon and Willis adopted a defensive posture. Willis stated, “I respect the 150 people in this room deeply, but you are not broadly representative of the five million people we serve”. Luxon echoed this, saying his job was to think about the “5 million people living in this country not just the 150 filling in the survey”.

This defence was immediately and publicly rebutted by Foodstuffs North Island CEO Chris Quin. “It’s really important that we don’t think that we’re not connected with the five million New Zealanders. We absolutely are”, he argued. “Every one of the people in this room that runs a business... has a pretty good feel for how they’re feeling”.

The exchange exposes the central contradiction of the entire affair. If the government truly believes the survey is unrepresentative, why does it command so much media attention, and why do senior ministers feel compelled to attend its launch and respond to its findings in detail?

The Government’s actions betray its words. It treats the “Mood of the Boardroom” as a vital political event even while publicly claiming its participants are just another interest group. This is an inadvertent confession of the immense de facto power this lobby holds.

Conclusion: Whose mood governs New Zealand?

The 2025 Mood of the Boardroom survey is not a benign academic exercise. It is a public declaration of a lobbying agenda from a powerful and impatient elite. It reveals a clear blueprint for policy change: a state that cuts social spending but underwrites private infrastructure investment; a regulatory environment that prioritises commercial speed over community and environmental protection; and a tax system that continues to favour capital over labour and income.

The survey demonstrates that the business community has the access, the financial clout, and the coordinated strategy to see its blueprint enacted. It uses its platform to publicly manage the government’s performance, punishing leaders for perceived failures and rewarding ministers who deliver on its priorities. This agenda is then pursued through demands for institutionalised backdoor channels that would embed corporate power at the heart of the state.

The immense political and media weight given to the “Mood of the Boardroom” stands in stark contrast to the relative powerlessness of ordinary citizens. It forces a critical question for the integrity of our democracy. While we have an exhaustive, multi-part analysis of what the country’s CEOs are thinking, where is the report on the “Mood of the Waiting Room”, the “Mood of the Staffroom”, or the “Mood of the Foodbank?”. The answer, it seems, is that in the contest of ideas and influence, some moods matter far more than others.

Dr Bryce Edwards

Director of The Integrity Institute

My previous coverage of the Mood of the Boardroom

2024: Political Roundup: What business is lobbying government for

2022: Political roundup: The Political mood of the business elite

2015: Political roundup: The business elite view of politics

2013: Political roundup: The rich get richer (and more powerful)

Relevant entries on the Lobbying and Influence Register

Auckland Business Chamber

Auckland International Airport

Barfoot & Thompson

Business NZ