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The Spinoff
23-05-2025
- Business
- The Spinoff
The Weekend: Did you grow up terrified of investing?
Madeleine Chapman reflects on the week that was. When I was 21 years old, I travelled to America and spent some time with my cousin in Albuquerque. She was 30 and had what I assumed was a reasonably high-paying job in healthcare. Even so, she lived a life of luxury that was a shock to me. She owned a lovely home, planned frequent weekends to Vegas, was happy to drop everything on a dime and roadtrip the west coast with me, and drove a very cool red Mercedes SUV. How? Having grown up in New Zealand, I assumed she must have bought property somehow (she hadn't). Or I figured she was earning millions as a salary (also untrue). When I finally tentatively asked about her financial situation, she casually explained her investment portfolio, both through government schemes and private investing. She explained how big her portfolio was and her dividends and her goals for the next 10 years. I nodded and felt deeply frightened. Did anyone else grow up terrified of investing? In my house, money was saved by either putting cash into a piggy bank (risky given the dairy was just down the road), or walking your cash down to the bank and depositing it into your simple saver account. And money was invested by buying a house. I have vivid memories of my mum telling me as a teenager that I needed to save for a house deposit. Back then a house deposit was closer to $30,000 but as a 15-year-old making $120 a week cleaning a creche, it was the most depressing plan I'd ever heard. In reality, I have always been an excellent cash saver. From my very first job at 12 years old until I started this job, I saved on average half of all my income. But I did it in the least effective way. Here are some examples: When I was a university student I worked almost exclusively cash jobs through student job search. I saved that cash by putting it in a money tin (with no opening) that sat on my dresser. When I graduated and opened it with a knife, there was $12,600 inside. I'm extremely lucky our house wasn't burgled in that time. While overseas after university I left that $12,000 in a bonus saver account, untouched, for nine months. When I got back it was still exactly $12,000 because I forgot I had to make a monthly deposit to earn any interest. When I got my first fulltime job, I set my KiwiSaver contribution to 10% but only learned years later that I was with a bank notorious for terrible returns. Even as a fulltime worker, I found more satisfaction saving in cash so I bought a giant (like, a metre tall) Coke bottle money bank and began saving. Sometimes I would even withdraw cash in coins in order to put it in the bottle. I saved $6,000 this way and again, was very lucky not to have been burgled in that time. The whole time, I did not look into alternative KiwiSaver providers or bank accounts. None of this is really that bad considering I was able to live my life and save money, which is more than so many New Zealanders are able to do. But there is a real knowledge gap when it comes to building savings. Saving cash is a good thing, but will never be more than what you earn with your labour. And as I now know, that is an endless cycle, not one that you can climb out of with a bit of hard work and determination. In January I finally learned how straightforward term deposits are. Last year I plucked up the courage to open an investing account with a popular investment platform. With self-employment in my future and the government KiwiSaver contribution halved, I'll likely prioritise my own investing over the government-endorsed one. At the very least, it's nice to (finally) know I have many savings options outside of stuffing cash into a tin. Sometimes, when I feel like feeling bad, I calculate what my portfolio would look like if I had known about investing 10 years ago. I grew up thinking saving money was simply a matter of not spending it. Only recently have I learned how active it should be, and also how many people continue to view saving as putting money in a tin. When I was leaving university, I spoke to a fellow student who was born into generational wealth. I joked that we were in the same position because neither of us had to pay for our studies (my fees were covered by a scholarship and his were paid for by his parents). He laughed then said actually we weren't. His parents transferred him his fees every semester, but rather than pay them upfront, he got a student loan (zero interest) and invested his parents' money, which was now quite a bit more cash than his student loan was. I just stared at him, baffled. He was confused. 'I thought everybody knew to do that.' The stories Spinoff readers spent the most time with this week The cable that links New Zealand's islands together electrically is due for replacement, with that will come a huge shift, reports Shanti Mathias Winston Peters is right about parliament's declining standards. Hayden Donnell has noticed one MP in particular has been at the heart it, and his name rhymes with Shminston Smeeters Alex Casey analyses the trailer for Prime Minister, the Jacinda Ardern-approved documentary Joel MacManus and Lyric Waiwiri-Smith braved the exam-like media lockup to bring you the budget's contents and a snack review We asked a smorgasbord of experts for their thoughts on the budget – here's what they reckon Feedback of the week 'Egg in any sandwich is hateful. But egg in a sandwich with lettuce is on a whole different level. Sums up the budget and coalition pretty well though… 'austerity sandwiches will continue until morale improves'.' 'You eloquently expressed in long form what I have been yelling at the telly for weeks. Thank you.'
The Spinoff
16-05-2025
- Business
- The Spinoff
The Weekend: What does ambition look like?
Madeleine Chapman reflects on the week that was. Over new years, I was in Japan on a lovely trip, waiting outside a tiny cafe run by an old man. He didn't have a website or anything, but had recently gone viral on TikTok for one of the few dishes he made. When we arrived, his store was closed, but the sign said it would be open that day. So we waited, and over the next 40 minutes, tourists came and went, some knocking on the glass, others grumbling about the inconsistent opening hours. Eventually, he emerged, took one look at us and crossed his two index fingers. Closed. Someone tried to protest and he just shook his head before shutting the door behind him. Part of me was gutted because we'd travelled specifically to try his dish and now wouldn't be able to. But I loved his refusal to cater to his newfound popularity. He knew exactly what he wanted to do and wasn't going to change, no matter how many people were waiting grumpily outside, desperate to give him their money. I've been thinking a lot about ambition lately, as I've been planning my exit from The Spinoff. This idea of ambition and a need to always be moving up in the world or 'making an impact'. Ambition is so tied up in capitalism that it's taken me months to even start untangling the two in my mind. One of the exciting things my partner Jenn and I are doing later this year is moving to a much smaller city. I spent weeks plotting in my head how I would be able to make up my current salary in remote freelance and contract work when the job market is so quiet. Spoiler: it would be extremely difficult. I quietly stressed about this until Jenn asked me why I was trying to earn the same amount when our living costs were about to halve and the whole point of moving was to have less stress and financial pressure. I didn't have an answer except to think that it seemed like something I should do. Otherwise I'm just quitting. Reading Hera Lindsay Bird's advice this week to a reader asking 'am I squandering my potential?' was a perfectly timed reminder that ambition can be directed anywhere. Yes you can be ambitious in a professional sense, but just as many people are equally ambitious in their home lives, in their hobbies, in their friendships and in their health. Over the past few months I have developed an even bigger admiration for those who know what they want and do precisely what they need to get it – whether it's fame, fortune or having time for fun. That man in Japan would be considered unambitious by many (though one could argue limiting supply increases demand and is a business masterstroke) but it takes a lot of strength to stick to your wants and not be swept along by the ambitions others have for you. In 2016, I asked a stranger for an opportunity because it was exactly what I wanted to do. To my surprise and delight, he said yes. That is probably the last time I felt truly ambitious, going after something brand new that I deeply wanted but didn't know if I would ever have. After a decade of saying yes (and don't get me wrong, benefitting hugely from it and having a lot of fun along the way doing exactly what I dreamed of), I've realised that exactly what I want now is the opposite. And suddenly I feel ambitious again. The stories Spinoff readers spent the most time with this week Feedback of the week 'Related to this so much. This is why we need to regulate the companies and not the users. I have managed to curb some of my phone addiction through a lot of work and full deletion of all social media apps, but now I literally (not kidding) obsessively check the spinoff. Comments section doesn't help lol. Next step is to get to the heart of what I'm avoiding by being on my phone…' 'As someone who is currently studying towards a MIS (Master's in Information Studies) to hopefully gain a professional-level librarian position I am fuming. The time and expense to do this qualification is being undervalued by this government, as is my career pathway of choice. Most professional librarian positions need the MIS, and to say that we don't deserve to be paid as much as fisheries officers is deeply offensive. Librarians don't spend their days reading or checking out books. It is far more complex than that -and the assistants who check out the books deserve more pay too – their jobs are also technically complex, misunderstood and undervalued'
The Spinoff
02-05-2025
- General
- The Spinoff
The Weekend: My nephew keeps calling me nana
Madeleine Chapman reflects on the week that was. There is no adult in the world who can cut you to the core as cleanly as a small child. My unwitting assassin is my lovely not-quite-two-year-old nephew, who with a single, repeated word has forced me to reevaluate my hair, my clothes and my life. The word? Nana. My sister (and therefore nephew) lives 10 minutes from me and I see them approximately once a week. My mum (his nana) lives a seven-hour drive away and therefore they see each other every few months. And yet, whenever my nephew sees me, or wishes to refer to me after I've said goodbye, he calls me nana. 'No, that's aunty Mad,' my sister will gently say. 'Can you say Mad?' He'll look at her, look at me, and say nothing. Until the next time he calls to me and I'm nana again. Trust me when I say that I do find it funny, and have taken to referring to myself as nana sometimes just to be consistent. But when one is referred to as nana despite not being 70 years old (his real nana's age), one must examine what sort of energy and look one is presenting to the impressionable youths of the world. If I'm being very honest, I've been old my whole life, so it's not really a surprise that since I have similar length hair to my mum, my nephew has made us one person. But it is always jarring to be reminded of both age and stage. I have been Aunty Mad since I was 12, so have always felt like a very young aunty. Nearly two decades and 15 nieces and nephews later, I have only just recently realised I'm a regular-aged aunty. And now, having lived with that realisation for a whole three months, I'm suddenly a very young nana. This week, I read a lot of comments online about how any reasonably healthy person would be able to pass the police fitness test. I looked at the requirements and knew instantly that I'd fail every part of it. Five years ago I would've needed a few weeks to freshen up but could've passed. Today? Give me at least six months and you've got a maybe. In watching Gilmore Girls recently I had to remind myself that mother-of-teenager Lorelai is only a year older than me in the show. At the same time, I read about the chaos of the classroom these days and the ever-changing curriculum and the rise of AI where children are supposedly learning and think, 'thank god I'm too old to be impacted by this'. You might think this is all a bit rich and predictable coming from someone in their early thirties but you aren't the one being called nana and wondering if maybe you need to just shave your head again to make things really clear. On balance, I take it as a compliment that I am convincingly passing as a 70-year-old quiet woman to my nephew and assume it really is just the hair. And yes, I do now know that when I look at my mum, I am in fact looking at myself in 40 years. But I may still shave my head and if he continues to call me nana… well, that's an existential problem for future, geriatric me. The stories Spinoff readers spent the most time with this week
The Spinoff
25-04-2025
- General
- The Spinoff
The Weekend: The sound of silence
Madeleine Chapman reflects on the week that was. I've been re-watching Girls lately, the HBO classic that perfectly captures millennial women in the most painful way. I highly recommend it especially if you haven't watched it before. Every character on the show is deeply flawed and frustrating in their own unique ways, but one of my favourites is Ray, the grouchy complainer who reminds me of a young Larry David. Near the end of the series he ironically yells at the drivers honking outside of his apartment: 'This incessant sound is doing irreparable damage. This incessant sound is prompting my norepinephrine production.' He's referring to the neuro-transmitter that enables fight or flight, and he's not wrong. Incessant noise can drive a person insane. That show came out over a decade ago but the issue of noise pollution is as pressing as ever. In New Zealand, I mostly find the noise of my neighbourhood comforting. The lawn mowers, the drills, the buses accelerating away from the bus stop outside our apartment every seven minutes. It's comforting because it's a consistent and reliable reminder that I live among many others. I find it so comforting that when I visit my rural dwelling parents, the silence (and darkness) at night can be alarming. It's a shock to the system to remember that almost all the noise we hear in the city is manufactured and directly the result of human activity. Couple that with the incessant roar of, well, the entire human population speaking at once and at all times on the internet, and suddenly the noise is overwhelming. So it is increasingly rare for thousands of people to agree to silence, even for a moment, as happens every Anzac Day to honour the troops who have served our country. The silence is always meaningful and heavy. But this year, that silence had an alarm ringing with it, after a call for a boycott of the ceremonial aspects of Anzac Day. The reason? Some veterans feel that the gestures and the speeches are prioritised over actually supporting the veterans around our country today. As Liam Rātana has reported, the call for a boycott came soon after the Waitangi Tribunal hearings in which the tribunal heard of the inequities in support for Māori veterans and the restrictive nature of veteran support, particularly for those who have recently served. Sometimes even silence can prompt norepinephrine production. This week on Behind the Story The unreported reality for NZ veterans Ātea editor Liam Rātana has reported two stories recently on the same topic, a topic that is so often ignored by both media and everyday New Zealanders: veterans. Our returned or retired army personnel are at the sticky end of almost every social measure: unemployment, mental health, suicide. But without even a national register of how many veterans we have, it's even harder to tell the stories of a community that hasn't been quantified yet. Madeleine Chapman talks to Liam this week on Behind the Story about his coverage of the recent Waitangi Tribunal hearings into the treatment of Māori veterans and a veteran group's call to boycott the formal ceremonies of Anzac day. Watch on YouTube or listen wherever you get your podcasts. The stories Spinoff readers spent the most time with this week
