This is not a story about food. It is a story about money, access, and skewed priorities. The New Zealand Government’s decision to pay $6.3 million to bring the Michelin Guide to dining to our shores is being sold as a forward-thinking tourism investment. But in reality it looks more like a textbook case of pay-to-play corporate welfare. It was secured by a persistent, well-connected lobbying campaign and delivered by a political class that appears dangerously out of touch with public needs.
The core facts are straightforward: Through state-owned Tourism New Zealand (TNZ), the Government has struck a three-year deal with the famed French tyre maker and restaurant guide publisher, Michelin. The price tag is $6.3 million, drawn partly from TNZ’s baseline budget and partly from the International Visitor Levy, a tax on tourists originally intended to fund infrastructure and conservation. This money will be paid directly to Michelin to underwrite its operations in New Zealand. In return, Michelin will dispatch its anonymous inspectors and publish a guide covering just four high-end centres: Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch, and Queenstown.
Officially, Tourism Minister Louise Upston and TNZ chief executive René de Monchy have justified the deal as a “demand stimulator.” They claim it will “showcase the very best of New Zealand’s food, wine and hospitality” and could attract an estimated 35,000-36,000 new high-spending visitors each year. Upston has framed Michelin’s arrival as “boosting visitor numbers and economic growth,” even saying it will support small businesses and jobs in the hospitality sector. De Monchy points to TNZ research suggesting that over 80% of wealthy potential tourists would be more likely to visit if New Zealand had the Michelin Guide. In short, the official narrative is that after 125 years, Michelin has finally graced New Zealand in recognition of our culinary maturity, and that this will be a boon for tourism and prestige.
In reality, that narrative is a polite fiction. The truth – made clear by comparing Australia’s decisions and by the unusually frank admissions of those who brokered the deal – is that New Zealand wasn’t “chosen” by Michelin at all. We paid to be included. Other countries have been approached with similar proposals and turned them down. New Zealand was simply the first to say yes and write a cheque. This Integrity Briefing peels back the polished PR to reveal how public money was diverted to subsidise a foreign corporation and a small elite of domestic businesses, and what this says about influence and priorities in our politics.
Let them eat Michelin stars
The political optics of this deal are jarring, even damning. A $6.3 million subsidy for fine dining was announced in the same week the Government floated the idea of essentially banning rough sleepers from city streets. The juxtaposition is stark: on one hand, a lavish outlay to secure Michelin stars for upscale restaurants; on the other, ministers discussing “move-on orders” to clear homeless people out of sight.
When pressed in Parliament about the potential homeless crackdown, Prime Minister Christopher Luxon offered a careful non-denial, saying there had been “no Cabinet decision or discussion” on the matter. Yet a day later, he confirmed to media that “move-on orders would be one of the things that you’d want to be considering” to deal with homelessness. In other words, while exploring measures to make poverty less visible, the government was simultaneously celebrating a deal to elevate luxury dining.
As blogger Greg Presland observed, the class priorities couldn’t be clearer. The National-led Government appears more interested in “letting their supporters know which restaurants they should eat at” than in working to solve homelessness. Presland pointed out that $6 million “is a whole lot of bed nights for homeless people in shelters” and is money that could directly aid the most vulnerable, but is instead being used to subsidise an exclusive culinary indulgence.
Importantly, this critique isn’t coming only from the political left. Even the Taxpayers’ Union, a rightwing lobby aligned with National on fiscal matters, was scathing. A spokesperson slammed the Michelin deal as “a lavish subsidy for top-tier restaurants” and “a bad look” at a time when ordinary Kiwis are struggling with a cost-of-living crisis. From their perspective, the Government has its spending priorities badly warped by pouring millions into a vanity project for the wealthy while everyday people face economic pain.
It would be a mistake to see this disconnect as mere bad optics or unfortunate timing. Rather, it is a coherent expression of an ideology. This Government’s actions suggest it sees public resources as tools to generate private commercial returns and to subsidise the leisure pursuits of the wealthy. (After all, dining at a Michelin-starred restaurant is an experience largely reserved for the well-heeled.) Meanwhile, social problems born of inequality, like homelessness, are treated not as issues to be solved with public investment, but as nuisances to be swept away or “managed” through law and order measures. The Michelin deal, in all its extravagance, serves as a potent symbol of this worldview.
Anatomy of a deal: “Slow and steady (lobbying) wins the race”
This deal did not emerge from thin air or from some grand tourism strategy dreamed up in a Wellington office. It was the end result of a multi-year lobbying campaign. The lobbying was persistent, well-resourced, and, as we can now see, highly effective. In fact, if you follow the trail of self-congratulatory posts on LinkedIn, the key lobbyists have essentially provided a public play-by-play of how they pulled it off.
There were two main actors in this campaign: the client and the fixer. The client was the Restaurant Association of New Zealand, led by CEO Marisa Bidois. Her organisation had been dreaming of this for years. Bidois herself noted that the Association has “long advocated for this opportunity”, applying “sustained industry pressure” on officials and politicians to bring Michelin to New Zealand. The fixer was the corporate lobbying firm Awhi, particularly lobbyists Jesse Thompson and Holly Bennett (who proudly bills herself as a “government relations dynamo”).
Reconstructing their campaign, it’s clear the idea was seeded well before the current Government took office. As Holly Bennett revealed in one post, “A secret announcement has been cooking away… one that Marisa Bidois shared with me all the way back in 2019.” Jesse Thompson, a former Labour Party staffer and office holder, added that when he joined the Awhi lobbying firm nearly four years ago, one of the first conversations he had with Bidois was about “the potential for Michelin Guide to come to New Zealand. It became our ‘what if’…” In other words, the plan to court Michelin has been on the industry’s wishlist for a long time, and Awhi was engaged to make it happen.
The lobbying tactic was classic and patient. For several years, the Restaurant Association and Awhi worked mostly behind closed doors, nudging, networking, laying groundwork. Becky Erwood, the Association’s PR manager, described their approach as “advocating behind the scenes for years… the kind of work that doesn’t get public recognition, but can shift the dial for an industry.” They didn’t seek the spotlight; they sought results.
Their persistence paid off when the political winds shifted. After last year’s election, a new National-led Government came into power and was apparently receptive to the pitch. Within its first year, that government said yes to Michelin. And as soon as the deal was done, the mutual back-patting burst into the open. Marisa Bidois publicly thanked Thompson for his “passion and persistence,” crediting the Awhi team whose “mahi has been incredible in helping make this moment a reality.” Awhi’s own posts touted the win for their client. The mask really dropped when Holly Bennett cheerily declared: “Slow and steady (lobbying) wins the race 😉🍴.”
That one smug social media post perfectly encapsulates the reality of how this deal came to be. It wasn’t a national strategic epiphany about gastronomic tourism, it was a commercial lobbying operation that patiently turned a 2019 dream into a 2025 taxpayer-funded payout. For Awhi, this public victory lap doubles as an advertisement: they’ve shown every other industry group that with enough “slow and steady” lobbying (and the right connections), even a fanciful idea can become a multi-million-dollar government-funded reality. The message to potential clients is loud and clear: hire us, and we can help unlock the public coffers for your project too.
The Beneficiaries and the network of influence
It’s worth examining exactly who the winners and losers are in this arrangement, because it illuminates how influence is wielded in New Zealand. The deal was executed by a small network of political, bureaucratic, and private players working in concert:
The Industry Lobby: Marisa Bidois and the Restaurant business Association – the originators of the idea and the ones who pressed government relentlessly for it.
The Hired Lobbyists: Jesse Thompson and Holly Bennett at Awhi – the influence peddlers who navigated the halls of power on the industry’s behalf.
The Government Decision-Makers: Minister Louise Upston (with the backing of PM Luxon’s administration), who ultimately signed off on spending the public’s money this way.
The State Agency: René de Monchy and Tourism New Zealand, which provided the “business case” and justification needed to authorise the expenditure.
Each played a role. The lobbyists provided the sustained pressure and kept the idea warm over years. The industry client provided the political push and public-facing support, calling it a win for hospitality. The Government provided the money and the political will to say yes. And the agency provided a veneer of technocratic justification, in this case, cherry-picked data to make the deal seem like sound economics.
That justification, notably, rests on internal TNZ research of questionable rigour. TNZ claims the Michelin guide could attract 35,000 extra visitors annually, citing survey figures like “68% of affluent Chinese diners say the guide’s presence would trigger a booking.” These kinds of numbers should be taken with a grain of salt. Even the Taxpayers’ Union derided the plan as “gambling on tens of thousands of visitors deciding to hop on a long-haul flight for their next meal.” But internally, that flimsy data was apparently all the political cover needed to greenlight what the lobbyists were asking for.
Who benefits? A quick tally shows a classic case of elite self-service:
1: The Restaurant business association gets to claim a big victory for its members (and presumably please the high-end restaurant owners in its ranks).
2) Awhi’s lobbyists get kudos and a great case study to pitch to future clients.
3) The Government gets a shiny “good news” announcement with a globally recognised brand. This is something positive to talk about amid economic woes.
4) New Zealand’s most exclusive restaurateurs stand to get the Michelin stars they covet, a marketing prize that could boost their businesses.
And who are the losers? The public at large. Taxpayers (and international visitors via the levy) foot the $6.3 million bill. The opportunity cost is immense: that money could have been invested in hospitality training programs, regional food festivals, apprenticeships for young chefs, infrastructure for night markets or food trucks – anything that builds the base of the industry or benefits ordinary people. Instead, it’s been spent to further enrich and promote the top end of town.
The Price tag: A Lavish subsidy for fine dining
Let’s put that $6.3 million in perspective. The Tourism Minister has been quick to defensively point out that “no money goes directly to restaurants”, as if paying it all to Michelin somehow makes it less a subsidy of our fine dining elite. This is a cynical sleight-of-hand.
The reality is that the $6.3 million from the tourist levy is a direct, in-kind subsidy to those restaurants. It is effectively buying them a very expensive promotional platform. One commentator, Nick Iles, described the arrangement in the Spinoff as “a massive, and free, marketing exercise for a handful of restaurants.” Indeed, if roughly 50 restaurants end up listed or starred in the guide, one could say the government has given each of them the equivalent of a $126,000 marketing budget at public expense.
The public is footing the bill for a private marketing campaign. It’s one that benefits Michelin (a foreign company) and a small cadre of domestic restaurateurs who least need the help. It’s a classic case of socialised costs for privatised gains.
Consider what else $6.3 million could accomplish. As Nick Iles noted in The Spinoff, “Six million dollars is a lot of money that could be spent on literally anything else… putting hospitality education back on the agenda to create meaningful routes into work, or supporting fledgling artisans creating the kai that is being judged.”
In other words, the Government had a choice within the hospitality and tourism realm: fund the foundations of the industry (its people, its producers, its future talent) or fund the very pinnacle (a glossy guide that benefits the already established elite). It chose the latter. That speaks volumes about priorities.
Meanwhile, outside the hospitality bubble, the contrast is even more painful. Newstalk ZB’s John MacDonald highlighted that the Government can somehow find $6 million for “restaurant reviewers” but not $2 million to keep crisis helpline Lifeline operating 24/7. Lifeline has been forced to cut overnight services due to a funding shortfall, and MacDonald didn’t mince words: spending millions to fly in Michelin inspectors while neglecting a vital suicide prevention service is “nothing short of moral bankruptcy.” It’s a powerful reminder that every budget decision reflects values, and these choices are bound to raise questions about who this government really cares about serving.
Why Australia said no
New Zealand’s leaders have tried to spin the Michelin deal as a win, bragging that we will be the first in Oceania to have a Michelin Guide. Prime Minister Luxon, when questioned about why Australia doesn’t have Michelin, blustered that “I don’t think we’re too worried about Australia… we like beating Australians at anything.” The reality is far less triumphant. We didn’t “beat” Australia. If anything, we got played.
The Australian Financial Review revealed that Michelin had been in talks with Tourism Australia before coming to us. The deal pitched to Australia was enormous: around AUD $17 million over five years from the national tourism body, plus matching funds from state governments, plus additional millions for promotional events, totalling just under $40 million all up. After considering it, Australia walked away. They decided it wasn’t worth it.
As one Australian official put it, what Michelin once funded through selling guidebooks is now being underwritten by tourism boards. In places like Singapore, Thailand, Dubai, the Michelin Guide’s expansion has become “strictly pay-to-play.” Australia, a much bigger, richer country with world-class restaurants, saw those terms and said “no thanks.”
That context makes New Zealand’s enthusiasm look naïve. Michelin, having failed to land the whale of a $40 million Australian deal, was undoubtedly happy to hook our relatively modest $6.3 million. We weren’t Michelin’s first choice; we were simply the first willing payer. In effect, New Zealand volunteered to be the sucker who would pony up money when others refused. We didn’t get a bargain so much as we paid a clearance price for something Australia deemed overvalued.
All of this undercuts the Government’s chest-thumping. There was no spontaneous Michelin epiphany that New Zealand is a hot new gastronomy destination. There was a sales pitch, and we were the only takers. Far from being a coup or a competitive victory over Australia, our participation looks more like a lack of prudence. As critics have noted, New Zealand has essentially admitted that without a cash sweetener, we doubt Michelin would come here purely on merit.
A Chorus of criticism: Elitism, conflicts, and a dark side
Beyond the fiscal folly, the Michelin deal has drawn a broad backlash for its cultural and ethical implications. Many see it as importing a set of values and pressures that could do more harm than good to New Zealand’s food scene.
First, there’s the issue of impartiality and conflict of interest. By literally paying Michelin to operate here, the Government has created a reasonable question: how impartial can the guide truly be when it’s effectively on the Government’s payroll? As Nick Iles bluntly asked, “The government forking over $6m creates a very clear conflict of interest. How can the guide remain impartial when it needs to be seen to be awarding [stars]? Will the restaurants given stars actually be comparable to international peers?”
If Michelin’s first New Zealand guide (due mid-2026) comes out and our restaurants receive disappointingly few or low star ratings, the whole investment will look like a failure. Everyone knows this, including Michelin. The worry is that there will be pressure to ensure a “good” result, meaning the integrity of the awards could be compromised. In essence, we’ve bought prestige, so prestige had better be delivered, even if that requires lowering the bar.
Second, critics argue the whole exercise is culturally tone-deaf, even colonial. Iles characterises it as “another act of colonialism. Judges have been flown in from Europe to rank and rate [our restaurants], without any meaningful understanding of our food history.” New Zealand’s culinary culture is a unique fusion of Māori, Pasifika, European and Asian influences, with an emphasis on local produce and a relatively informal dining style. Flying in outsiders with a very particular fine-dining lens risks imposing a foreign standard that may overlook what makes our food culture special. It’s the old trope of needing overseas validation to prove our worth. Some fear it will encourage homogenisation – that chefs will start cooking to impress French inspectors rather than expressing our own local ethos.
Third, there’s concern about the toxic pressure the Michelin system can bring. Celebrated Kiwi chef Al Brown has warned of Michelin’s “dark side.” He noted the immense pressure chefs face to gain or retain stars. This is a pressure so intense that in some cases overseas “chefs have taken their lives over Michelin stars.” Brown said quite frankly, “I don’t get that, I don’t want any of that.”
He has called the guide fundamentally elitist, noting it’s “only the really wealthy that can afford to actually dine in these Michelin-style restaurants.” Brown questions whether the Michelin ethos is a good fit for New Zealand, where historically our high cuisine still prized a certain unpretentiousness. “We’re a relaxed bunch – elbows on the table,” he quipped, suggesting that chasing Michelin glitz might undermine the laid-back, authentic hospitality many Kiwis value.
It’s true that not everyone in the food world is lamenting the deal. Predictably, those who stand to gain the most are ecstatic. Auckland chef Nick Honeyman, who already holds a Michelin star from his time in France, called the deal the “Holy Grail” and an “absolute gift.” In Queenstown, Vaughan Mabee enthused that he’d “like to hug the officials who brokered the deal.” And celebrity chef Josh Emett repeated Michelin’s own talking points, insisting the guide has “moved on” from stuffy white-tablecloth formality and that “there’s a chicken shop in Asia that’s got a Michelin star” – the implication being Michelin is no longer just for elites.
But these upbeat reactions ring a bit hollow. They don’t erase the legitimate concerns about conflicts of interest, cultural fit, and elitism. A street-food hawker in Singapore getting a star doesn’t change the fact that Michelin’s brand revolves around exclusivity and ranking, which are concepts somewhat antithetical to New Zealand’s egalitarian self-image.
Conclusion: A System serving itself
New Zealand’s Michelin deal is more than a quirky tourism story. It’s a mirror held up to the political class. It shows how easily public funds can be channelled into elite interests, all under the banner of “growth” and “branding”.
When homelessness is met with policing, but fine dining is met with subsidies, something has gone deeply wrong. When tourism dollars meant for environmental protection are handed to foreign corporations, “economic development” becomes a euphemism for upward redistribution.
If there’s one useful outcome from this episode, it’s clarity. The system is not broken by accident; it’s working exactly as designed: serving those with the means, the connections, and the lobbyists to be heard.
New Zealanders deserve better than governance-by-deal and prestige-by-chequebook. The next time the Government tells us there’s no money for social housing, mental health, or climate resilience, remember the $6 million we paid for a few stars in a French dining guide.
That’s the real taste of our political priorities.
Dr Bryce Edwards
Director of The Integrity Institute
Further Reading:
Finn Blackwell and Nicky Park (RNZ): Is the Michelin guide as good as it sounds for New Zealand?
Kim Knight (Herald): Kiwi chefs react as France’s Michelin Guide comes to rank New Zealand’s restaurants
Nick Iles (Spinoff): 15 reasons why the Michelin Guide arriving in New Zealand is a bad idea
Greg Presland (The Standard): Let them eat Michelin Stars
Anna McCooe (Australian Financial Review): Tourism Australia turned down Michelin and a $40m chance to grow up
Luke Malpass (Post): Fine dining, hard times: why New Zealand is paying for Michelin (paywalled)
John MacDonald (Newstalk ZB): Money for restaurant reviewers, but not for Lifeline
Heather du Plessis-Allan (Newstalk ZB): The Michelin Guide is a worthwhile investment
Marissa Bidois (Post): A landmark win for NZ’s hospo industry (paywalled)
Alka Prasad (Post): Michelin Guide seen as talent-retention lifeline for NZ hospitality (paywalled)
Kim Knight (Herald): Tourism New Zealand invests $6.3m to bring Michelin Guide to local restaurants
Aziz Al Saafin (1News): Michelin Guide expands to NZ for the first time
Michelin Guide: The MICHELIN Guide Expands Its Global Footprint With Its Arrival in Aotearoa New Zealand
"When homelessness is met with policing, but fine dining is met with subsidies, something has gone deeply wrong". 'Nuff said.
Good old sorted and captured Luxon, the cosplaying egghead PM gets sucked in yet again. I mean Michelin would have been able to see him coming a mile away. I’m an Australian and even I feel embarrassed for Kiwis. I mean it’s not fair that everyday New Zealanders should have to put up with such monumental incompetence.