In 2023, I was home on maternity leave after a surprise pregnancy in my forties.
Like many new parents, I stepped back from work to focus on family.

We thought the big battles were behind us.
The council had given every sign that things were on track.

But while I was at home caring for a newborn, things were changing without warning. 

The council - now run by government-appointed commissioners - started moving behind closed doors.

The same groups who’d pushed for the land sale before, were back at the table.
The same tactics. The same pressure.

Since commissioners aren’t chosen by the public, their mandate is different.
They don’t have to answer to voters. They can sign off major decisions - and they don’t need community support to do it.

Well-funded interests saw their chance.
They had the lawyers, the time, and the money to shape outcomes.
Families like ours and others in this city, didn’t stand a chance and council was using ratepayer money to fund it.

Commissioners were signing off sales and developments that didn’t stack up - financially or ethically.
And it wasn’t just the Marine Precinct. It was a pattern.

Contract after contract was signed behind closed doors.
“Commercial sensitivity” was used to keep key details hidden.
Legal workarounds made it harder for the public to find out what was really going on.

Tauranga was being locked into long-term deals that benefited those who could afford the changes - while everyday people were left to carry the cost.

When Tauranga finally returned to elected representation, it felt like a chance to change course. They promised to listen to their communities. A change to undo some of the damage and a chance to put public interest back at the centre of decision-making.

But the reality was harder to watch.

The same people, the same networks, and the same interests didn’t go away - they adapted.
They knew how to influence the newly elected members and they understood how to frame decisions in ways that seemed practical, even “responsible." 

Many of the new elected members had never held public office.
Most identified with more affluent parts of the city and seemed out of touch with what life was really like for working families and small business owners, making them even easier to influence. 

Since coming back from maternity leave, I’ve watched Tauranga’s new elected council step into power.
And I’ve seen how many of them point to the commissioners as the reason we’re in this position - including the $4 billion debt we’re heading toward.

But the truth is, they had a choice and they had the authority to change direction.
And when it mattered most, a majority voted to keep the trajectory in place.

Yes, there was pressure from officials, advisers, legal teams and government.
But the decisions weren’t made for them. They were made by them.

That’s the part the public doesn’t always see.

It’s not just about who’s in the room.
It’s about who gets listened to once they’re there.

And when you look closer, one reason becomes clear: lobbying.

Most people in New Zealand don’t realise how much influence happens behind the scenes.
We’re one of the only countries in the OECD with no lobbying regulations.
No public register.
No code of conduct.
No real transparency.

Once you understand how the lobbying industry works here, and how quietly it operates, a lot of things start to make sense.

Decisions aren’t always based on what’s fair or evidence-based.
They’re shaped by who gets access, whose voice is heard, and who’s already in the room when the agenda is set.

That’s why I started Lobby for Good.

Because if lobbying is allowed to shape our country, then everyday people deserve a seat at the table too.