The government has framed its NZ$503 million budget spending on prisons as necessary to maintain public safety and manage a growing prison population, forecast to increase by 36% from the current 10,000 to 14,000 by 2035.

The appeal to public safety is tied to the goal of reducing violent crime, which most voters will understandably support.

But this broad messaging obscures two crucial facts. Most assaults in New Zealand happen inside private homes, not in public spaces. And the increase in the number of people in prison comes from an excessive remand population (people awaiting trial), not from an increase in serious offending.

More than half of those who are remanded will not receive a prison sentence once their case is heard. This shows they don’t present a risk to public safety.

As of March 2026, there were 4,537 people held on remand. Each is costing the taxpayer about $414 per day. This means the large share of the remand population that poses no threat to public safety is costing taxpayers nearly $1 million every single day.

From a fiscal perspective, it is a striking decision to build new prisons for the growing remand population instead of changing the law to release those who pose no risk on bail.

Why the remand population is growing

The remand population currently accounts for 41% of the prison population, up from 13% in 2000.

Over the past 25 years, a series of legislative changes has steadily increased the number of people on remand.

The most consequential change came when the previous National-led government amended the Bail Act in 2013 to tighten bail eligibility. Until then, most defendants were granted bail automatically.

It was largely on the prosecutor to prove the defendant posed a flight risk, might reoffend or interfere with justice – by intimidating witnesses for example – while on bail.

This amendment shifted the burden of proof onto defendants. Instead of bail, remand became the new norm, because it is harder to prove something will not happen. For example, how can you prove you will not intimidate witnesses?

As a result, more people are being detained, not because more people pose a proven risk, but because the legal threshold for release is now higher.

For the men and women held on remand, the consequences are often severe. People lose jobs, housing and family connections, all of which increase the likelihood of offending. Remand has become a costly and counterproductive system that harms both individuals and the public purse.

Because Māori are already more likely to be arrested, charged and have prior convictions due to long-standing systemic inequalities, a bail rule that forces defendants to prove they are not a risk perpetuates existing disparities.

The $1 million daily cost for keeping people unnecessarily on remand would be better divested into early intervention. We know a large number of people behind bars live with learning disabilities, fetal alcohol spectrum disorder, traumatic brain injuries and severe unresolved childhood trauma.

Many end up self-medicating with alcohol or drugs because they have never received proper support. Prisons are not designed to treat these underlying issues. Often they can make them worse.

The misleading appeal to public safety

Bail laws were tightened to protect public safety and the 2026 budget decision leans on that same argument.

The idea of public safety invokes images of physical threats in communal spaces. This overlooks that most violence in New Zealand happens at home. In 2025, around 10,500 people were convicted of a violent offence, of which more than half occured within families.

Family violence is a complex and often inter-generational problem.

Prison cannot teach emotional regulation, repair relationships or undo childhood trauma. Instead, it disrupts employment, isolates people from whānau and increases the stress factors that fuel further violence.

What works to address family harm is stable housing, addiction treatment, early intervention by specialist services and long-term therapeutic support.

These approaches strengthen families, reduce harm and cost far less than imprisonment. If we want safer homes and communities, we need to invest in solutions that change behaviour, not just contain it.

It is an old line, but it remains true: every dollar invested in early childhood support saves around 13 dollars in criminal justice costs later on.

A society that keeps expanding its prisons is admitting its social policies are not working. If we are serious about reducing crime, the government needs to invest earlier.

Antje Deckert does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Parents know how easily coughs, colds and other infections can move through a household after a child picks up a bug at childcare or school.

This puts babies with older siblings at greater risk of serious infectious illness, especially while their immune systems are still developing during the critical first months of life. Maternal vaccination during pregnancy helps boost babies’ protection.

But my new research shows a worrying mismatch: vaccination uptake falls during later pregnancies, leaving babies who would benefit most from maternal immunisation less likely to receive that protection.

In Aotearoa New Zealand, vaccination against pertussis, also known as whooping cough, and influenza is publicly funded and recommended during every pregnancy.

These vaccines do not only protect the mother. The maternal antibodies are also transferred to the baby and help protect them.

Previous studies confirm that maternal immunisation substantially reduces babies’ risk of infection and hospitalisation from pertussis and influenza, but my research shows a birth-order pattern of reduced protection.

Immunisation falls with each pregnancy

Vaccination uptake during pregnancy remains far from universal.

Analysis of current Aotearoa Immunisation Register data for births in the year to June 2025 shows 61% of mothers received a pertussis vaccine and 40% received an influenza vaccine during pregnancy.

But these overall figures hide a clear birth-order pattern. Among first pregnancies, uptake was 69% for pertussis and 45% for influenza. In second pregnancies, this decreased to 63% and 41% respectively. By the fourth pregnancy, these figures had fallen to 38% and 24%.

These recent figures show the birth-order pattern for one year of births. In my research, I examined a longer period, covering births from 2015 to 2023, which allowed me to compare vaccine uptake for the same mother across different pregnancies.

Part of the overall pattern reflects differences between families. Mothers who have more children tend to have lower vaccination uptake overall.

But the pattern also appears within families. The same mother is less likely to be vaccinated in later pregnancies than in earlier ones.

This finding fits with a growing body of evidence showing parents’ health-related decisions can vary with a child’s birth order. Previous studies have found later-born children are breastfed at lower rates and are less likely to attend health checks and receive childhood immunisations. These differences can also begin before birth, with lower use of prenatal care in later pregnancies.

A double disadvantage for later-born babies

While later-born babies receive less protection through vaccination, they may also face a greater risk of infection.

The family environment plays a role in the spread of infectious diseases. Older children can bring infections home, exposing younger siblings. Studies in other countries have found later-born children have higher rates of hospitalisation for respiratory conditions and receive more prescriptions for contagious diseases early in life.

My study shows this pattern also holds in New Zealand for two diseases targeted by maternal immunisation: pertussis and influenza. Later-born babies were more likely to be hospitalised for these diseases than their earlier-born siblings.

This is concerning from a public health perspective. Babies with older siblings face a greater risk of infection, while their mothers are less likely to receive recommended vaccinations during pregnancy.

How health services can respond

There are several possible reasons maternal immunisation and other parental behaviours vary by birth order.

As families grow, parents have to divide their time, attention and other resources among more children. This may influence the care and support available during later pregnancies and early childhood.

Parents may also learn and adapt as they become more experienced, changing how they approach pregnancy and infant care.

These explanations also point to possible solutions. Evidence from New Zealand suggests gaps in awareness, time constraints and difficulty accessing services can contribute to missed maternal immunisation. These barriers may be exacerbated in later pregnancies, when parents are already caring for older children.

Policy and service efforts that provide clearer information and make vaccination easier to access could therefore be particularly effective if they include a focus on later pregnancies.

New Zealand has already been moving in this direction by expanding the settings where immunisation can be delivered, including pharmacies and community midwives. There is evidence that making maternal pertussis vaccination available through pharmacies increased uptake, particularly for Māori women.

If these changes make vaccination easier to access for busy families, they could help protect babies who currently face the double disadvantage of higher infection risk and lower maternal immunisation uptake.

This research was supported by the Health Research Council of New Zealand. These results are not official statistics. They have been created for research purposes from the Integrated Data Infrastructure which is managed by Stats NZ. For more information please visit https://www.stats.govt.nz/integrated-data/.

New Zealand has long stood out among comparable economies not for what it taxes, but for what it doesn’t.

Perhaps nowhere is that more apparent than in its lack of a comprehensive capital gains tax: a measure used by counterparts including Australia, Canada, the United States and the United Kingdom.

In basic terms, this tax applies when an asset is sold for more than it was purchased for. The gain is treated as income and taxed accordingly.

While its absence has helped New Zealand to maintain a relatively simple tax system, it increasingly raises concerns about fairness, economic balance and the sustainability of government revenue.

For decades, that debate has largely been a political dead end, with successive governments concluding the electoral risks outweigh the policy benefits.

For at least one mainstream party, that now appears to be changing. After years of ruling one out under Jacinda Ardern, centre-left Labour recently proposed to introduce a targeted capital gains tax to fund free healthcare such as GP visits.

Parties to the right of Labour remain opposed to a capital gains tax – National argues it would add complexity and stifle economic growth – while those to its left generally support some form of broader taxation of wealth or capital.

In any case, the coming elections mean voters are likely to hear renewed debate about the tax. This is arguably overdue, given the mounting pressures on a tax system becoming increasingly harder to sustain.

The problem with taxing work more than wealth

New Zealand’s Treasury and Tax Working Group have repeatedly pointed out the country relies more on taxing wages than many comparable countries do.

This means workers shoulder a large share of the tax burden, while gains from rising asset values – particularly property – are often lightly taxed or not taxed at all.

This imbalance creates a structural issue. Two people can experience the same economic gain, one through wages and the other through asset appreciation, but face very different tax outcomes. Over time, this undermines the principle of fairness in the tax system.

Inland Revenue data and analysis have also highlighted how difficult it is to tax capital gains under the current system. Instead of a clear rule, taxation depends on intent, timing and technical classifications. This creates uncertainty and allows some gains to fall outside the tax net altogether.

The absence of a broad capital gains tax is not neutral; it advantages certain types of investment. Property, in particular, has benefited from favourable tax treatment.

New Zealand’s lack of a capital gains tax is a major point of difference compared to countries like Australia, which taxes gains more comprehensively. This has contributed to a perception, particularly among overseas investors that New Zealand offers relatively generous treatment of property investment.

There are benefits to this. Foreign investment can support economic activity, provide capital and stimulate development. Australian investors, for instance, have at times looked to New Zealand property markets due to fewer restrictions and favourable tax settings.

However, the gains from these investments are not evenly shared. Property appreciation largely benefits those who already own assets, contributing to wealth concentration. Meanwhile, younger or lower-income households who rely primarily on wages continue to pay tax at full rates.

In effect, the current system can amplify inequality by rewarding capital much more favourably than labour.

A capital gains tax would broaden the tax base by bringing asset-based income into the system. This does not necessarily increase overall taxation, but rather changes who pays and how.

Would a capital gains tax make a difference?

Labour’s proposal is relatively targeted. It focuses mainly on investment and commercial property, while exempting the family home, KiwiSaver, farms and inheritances.

As with any tax proposal, the question is not only who would pay, but how it would affect behaviour and economic activity.

A common concern is that capital gains taxes discourage investment or reduce house prices. Supporters argue the opposite: that taxing gains can reduce incentives to favour property over other productive investments and help broaden the tax base.

Research shows tax settings influence not whether but where capital is invested, while international experience indicates capital gains taxes tend to have gradual rather than dramatic effects on property markets.

At the same time, economists have identified potential downsides, including added compliance costs, valuation challenges and incentives for investors to defer asset sales.

Introducing a capital gains tax would therefore involve trade-offs. Inland Revenue would need systems to track gains, taxpayers would likely face additional record-keeping requirements and policymakers would need to decide how assets are valued and which exemptions apply.

Ultimately, the debate is not simply about raising revenue, but the future of New Zealand’s tax system.

As wealth becomes increasingly tied to asset ownership, questions about how different forms of income are taxed are unlikely to go away. Whether a capital gains tax is the right answer remains contested.

But continuing to rely so heavily on income taxes is becoming harder to justify.

Expanding the tax base to include capital gains is one option for rebalancing the system, improving fairness and supporting the long-term funding of public services.

Irshad Ali does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

We’ve heard a lot about the artificial intelligence (AI) boom and how enormous amounts of money are being poured into companies building ever more powerful technologies.

That boom is now taking a new turn as major AI players edge closer to becoming publicly-traded companies.

According to reports, OpenAI is preparing to file confidentially for a public listing that could value the ChatGPT maker at hundreds of billions of dollars. Rivals including Anthropic (Claude) and Elon Musk’s SpaceX – which just absorbed xAI (Grok) – are also moving toward the stock market.

What many people may not realise, however, is that, through retirement funds, pensions and other managed investments, they could end up owning shares in these giants – whether they choose to or not.

And while people might have moral concerns with the AI companies they’re tied to, the greater issue at play is about money, risk and who ends up holding it.

Where AI’s billions go

Building a cutting-edge AI system requires vast numbers of specialised computer chips, running nonstop in data centres that consume enough electricity to power a small city.

OpenAI plans to spend around US$50 billion on computing power in 2026 alone. In 2017, that same company spent roughly US$30 million, a 1,600-fold increase in less than a decade. OpenAI is targeting roughly US$600 billion in compute spending – or that in areas such as processing power, data storage and cloud infrastructure – through to 2030.

It’s not just OpenAI. The big technology companies are collectively expected to invest around US$650 billion in AI infrastructure in 2026. That’s roughly one-third of Australia’s annual GDP – or two-and-a-half times New Zealand’s – being committed to one technology bet in a single year.

All these expenses must be covered before the companies earn consistent profits. This is why they keep raising money – and why the question of where that money will eventually come from is enormously important.

In 2025, total investment in AI companies reached US$217 billion. Then, in just the first three months of 2026, private AI companies raised a further US$226 billion, surpassing the entire 2025 total in a single quarter.

Much of this was concentrated in three transactions: US$122 billion for OpenAI, US$30 billion for Anthropic and US$7.5 billion for xAI.

Together, these three deals alone accounted for 71% of all AI funding that quarter. Mega-rounds above US$100 million now make up 94% of all AI investment by value.

The funding has mostly come from large institutions: venture capital firms, sovereign wealth funds, and technology giants that can afford to take the risk. The gains and the losses stay within a small, specialist group.

When the AI sector goes public

Once a company is publicly listed, anyone can buy its shares.

More importantly, large index-tracking funds – widely used in Australia’s Super system and New Zealand’s KiwiSaver funds – automatically gain exposure to companies once they become large enough to enter the indices those funds follow.

In other words, they don’t get to decide whether it looks like a good investment; the index simply decides for them.

That matters for ethical investors, too. The thought of AI raises concerns about privacy, labour, misinformation and security. But unlike tobacco or gambling, it may prove difficult to exclude because it is being increasingly woven into the world’s largest listed companies.

There is, therefore, a case for asking whether these companies should trigger an opt-out mechanism for fund managers and regulators before the listings arrive.

Neither OpenAI, Anthropic, nor xAI has formally announced a stock market listing, and timelines remain uncertain. When that shift comes, the risk also shifts. The investors who funded the early stages of this race knew what they were getting into.

The people who will end up holding the shares through their pension funds or index trackers may not.

Index providers are rewriting the rules

Here is where the picture becomes more complex. Major index providers are changing their rules so newly listed mega-cap AI companies can enter key benchmarks much faster.

Nasdaq has already adopted a fast-track rule that allows a newly listed mega-cap company to join the Nasdaq-100 after just 15 trading days. S&P Dow Jones Indices is consulting on similar changes that would reduce the waiting period and waive profitability requirements for mega-caps.

These changes are reshaping the index system to funnel passive money into AI giants almost as soon as they list – and before most investors have had time to decide whether they belong in their portfolios at all.

So, what can ordinary investors do?

As they likely won’t be making the call themselves on whether to invest in an AI stock market float, they can put questions to the fund managers doing so on their behalf.

Those might be questions about whether the company is becoming more efficient, what their customer retention looks like, or how their leadership holds up under pressure.

OpenAI’s 2023 board crisis showed how unusual governance structures can create sudden instability.

There is no doubt the AI revolution is real and is changing economies in the same way it is changing our everyday lives.

But whether the AI boom will create lasting value for ordinary investors – or mainly provide an exit for early-stage insiders – is a question fund managers and regulators cannot afford to leave unanswered.

Before the listings arrive, they need to decide: should ordinary investors be automatically swept into the AI gamble, or should they have a choice?

Sara Ali does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Even before receiving public funding, Wegovy has drawn much media attention in New Zealand for the dramatic difference it can make for weight loss.

But with its rise in popularity has come debate about what these next-generation drugs really mean for a worsening obesity crisis and its driving causes.

Last month, New Zealand’s drug-funding agency Pharmac added Wegovy to its list of medicines suitable for future public funding. If that happens – and it could quickly – the drug would initially be targeted at people with severe obesity, or who are overweight with related health conditions.

Right now, the drug’s private prescription costs – upwards of NZD$400 per month – places it beyond the reach of many New Zealanders, particularly those disproportionately affected by obesity. This has strengthened arguments that public funding could improve equity while reducing long-term health-care costs.

All the while, New Zealand continues to report some of the developed world’s highest obesity rates. Around one in three adults and one in eight children are today classified as obese, while roughly two thirds of adults are either overweight or obese.

That may make the prospect of public funding all the more attractive for the country and its health system. But it should also be asked: can these drugs really be expected to tip the scales against an epidemic rooted in complex social and environmental factors?

Why we’re hearing about Wegovy

Wegovy works through semaglutide, a drug that helps regulate appetite and blood sugar, making people feel fuller for longer.

Clinical trials have shown that, when the drug is taken in tandem with lifestyle change, effects can be striking. In one landmark study, participants lost around 15% of their body weight over 68 weeks, which was far more than those who instead took a placebo.

For some people, such weight-loss can be transformative – reducing the risk of diabetes, cardiovascular disease and other long-term conditions.

Still, the drug has drawbacks. People generally need to keep taking it to maintain weight loss, with many regaining weight once treatment stops. Side effects are common, and the long-term impacts remain uncertain.

NZ’s food ‘swamps and havens’

Debate around new drugs such as Wegovy can sometimes reduce obesity to a question of personal choice and responsibility.

But obesity in New Zealand has been rising for decades, particularly among children and more deprived communities, reflecting drivers that extend well beyond individual behaviour.

Research shows the environments people live in, for instance, strongly reflect what and how they eat. Highly processed, energy-dense foods are today widely available, aggressively marketed and often cheaper than healthier options.

But some sections of society are much more exposed than others. Māori and Pacific communities experience significantly higher rates of obesity, reflecting broader inequities in income, housing and access to healthy food.

Fast-food outlets are disproportionately concentrated in more deprived areas and these “food swamps” dominated by unhealthy options are common across New Zealand. In many neighbourhoods, unhealthy food is often the easiest and most accessible choice.

Children’s everyday environments also play a part. Studies suggest many New Zealand schools still make unhealthy food easier to access, with healthy food policies unevenly applied.

Yet there are also signs of what works. So-called “food havens” – community spaces designed to make healthy food affordable, accessible and culturally appropriate – show how local initiatives can improve food environments.

An intervention, but not an answer

All of this reinforces that obesity is fundamentally a systems problem, not one that can be solved through pharmaceutical treatment alone. Framing these drugs as a silver bullet risks diverting attention from the broader preventive changes needed to address its root causes.

There is also a policy tension. Public funding for Wegovy might indeed help reduce future health-care costs by lowering rates of diabetes and heart disease. But unless the drivers of obesity are addressed, the number of people needing treatment will likely continue to grow.

Evidence suggests that reducing obesity at a population level requires action on the environments which shape daily life.

That includes improving access to affordable healthy food, restricting marketing of unhealthy products, strengthening school food environments and addressing those broader social and economic conditions that influence health.

These interventions are obviously more complex than prescribing a drug. But they are also more likely to produce a lasting solution to a crisis that is bringing a heavier toll for New Zealand each year.

I work with some of the academics whose research is referred to in this article.