New Zealand’s fastest-growing sector isn’t tourism, dairy, or technology. It’s outrage. Measured in press releases, moral indignation must employ more people than the public service and the productive sector combined.
Sunday’s welfare announcement will ensure another strong quarter. The Government’s proposal is straightforward: restrict Jobseeker payments for 18- and 19-year-olds to those from low-income families. It will also offer a $1,000 bonus for staying in work for a full year. The stated goal: spare young people from what modelling suggests will be an average of 18 years on welfare over their lifetimes if they enter the system before 25.
Within hours, the outrage sector demonstrated its capacity. Radio NZ led the chorus of disapproval. A modest policy became “cruelty,” parental support became “unconscionable” and the $65,000 threshold – set at benefit levels – was deemed impossibly low.
Meanwhile, the $1,000 bonus was condemned as discriminatory – accurately, since it favours young people who complete a year of work over those who don’t.
A youth worker declared young people were being “punished for an economic crisis they didn’t create.” Green MP Ricardo Menéndez March warned that the policy would push “young people deeper into poverty” – unless, of course, it pushes them into employment.
The Prime Minister complicated matters by introducing data. Dargaville’s kūmara industry reports being “desperate” for workers. Primary industries are “crying out for young people.” Treasury forecasts unemployment below five percent. Critics maintained that no jobs exist. The outrage economy thrives on such contradictions – each side has its facts, and neither requires the other’s.
Media outlets operate on outrage-per-click quotas. Radio NZ’s performance this week will exceed expectations.
Lost in the noise were the lives at stake. Nine in ten young beneficiaries come from households already dependent on welfare. The 18-year projection isn’t destiny, though settings that support dependency don’t help. But nuance doesn’t generate clicks.
The system provides young people with advocates who speak for them – while inadvertently ensuring they’ll need advocates indefinitely.
Sunday’s reforms acknowledge that 18 years on welfare isn’t compassion – it’s abandonment. The changes are modest: the threshold means many at-risk teenagers will still receive the benefit, ensuring the cycle continues. Modest or not, the sector’s response was unrelenting.
Once, governments were expected to manage the economy. Now they are encouraged to manage outrage. But if compassion means helping young people build purposeful lives rather than providing them permanent spokespeople, we might invest less in outrage – and rather more in outcomes.