Bishop morphs from ‘everywhere man’ to ‘Mr Fixit’

Within two years of becoming an MP, Hutt South locals had dubbed Chris Bishop “the everywhere man”.

A decade on, he’s won, lost and won back the Hutt South seat, and moved up the ranks of the National Party to become Minister for Housing, infrastructure, RMA reform, sport and recreation, Leader of the House, and a core member of Christopher Luxon’s kitchen cabinet.

Kiwis like Bishop more than his boss, according to a new poll. The latest Taxpayers’ Union-Curia numbers out this week looked at the favourability of Bishop, whose net favourability is -4 per cent, making him less disliked, on balance, than both Chris Luxon (-7) and Chris Hipkins (-6).

He’s also got a new moniker: Mr Fixit.

He reckons he doesn’t have many thoughts on unofficial titles.

“It’ll be for others to give appellations and titles and monikers and whatnot,” he says.

“I’m in it to make a difference. I know that sounds a bit cliched, but it’s genuinely true. I just see so much potential in New Zealand … And I’ll just go as hard as I can for as long as I can.”

It’s that penchant for hard work that makes it seem like he has the ability to pop up at every event, everywhere, almost all at once while campaigning in Lower Hutt.

It is this same fuel he burned during his time as National’s Covid-19 response spokesperson – talking to media every day, without the help of the latest information and modelling from government officials.

And it’s what he needed to draw on while managing National’s 2023 election campaign.

But that likely all pales in comparison to the workload he’s now facing.

The 40-year-old father to toddler Jeremy is often logging into work by 6.30am and doesn’t leave the Beehive until after midnight.

As Leader of the House, he needs to be on the grounds when the House is sitting, which means long days and less flexibility to take leave. But unlike his colleagues from other parts of the country, he is able to go home to his own bed at night.

“It’s just a fact of life. I’m not complaining about it. I signed up for it … It’s a privilege to do the job,” he says.

Bishop says he likes being busy. “When I’m not busy, I get bored and restless. I like having things to do.” 

That inability to sit still radiates off him as he perches on the edge of a couch in his sixth-floor Beehive office. He’s a knee jiggler; he regularly glances down at his nails as he talks.

Bishop promised to stop biting his nails in his wedding vows to his wife – former Beehive staffer, now Wellington Airport corporate affairs manager, Jenna Raeburn. It seems unlikely that now is the time he’ll make good on that promise.

There are parallels between Bishop and his former boss and mentor, Steven Joyce. Joyce was similarly thought of as a ‘Mr Fixit’, or sometimes the ‘Super Minister’ in a nod to his creation of the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment, the so-called super ministry.

Joyce was part of John Key’s kitchen cabinet and was sometimes rolled out as an attack dog during election campaigns, both in his official capacity as campaign manager, and in his unofficial capacity as a senior MP who was able to speak with confidence on a range of issues at short notice.

The former list MP was similarly a hard worker, with high standards and a reasonable amount of political astuteness.

Bishop says his time working for Joyce in his seventh-floor Beehive office helped him learn the rhythms of Parliament and what’s expected of a minister, ahead of his official launch into politics.

It also helps that Bishop is generally well-liked by those who meet him.

Bishop’s father, former political journalist John Bishop, says he takes credit for just one piece of advice he gave to his son: “A man can never have too many friends.”

It’s clear the respect Bishop gets from New Zealanders – including non-National voters – is a source of pride for his dad. He talks (unprompted) about how his son has continued to grow his personal vote in the Hutt, even during National’s 2020 troubles.

“His mother and I are immensely proud of him. When I see him on TV, I think: ‘You’re turning out all right’.”

There sometimes appears to be two Chris Bishops: the university debating champion who revels in the rambunctiousness of Question Time; the borderline ranting campaign manager who stood on Parliament’s black and white tiles as October 14 drew near, attacking Labour Party policies until he nearly turned blue in the face.

This is the Chris Bishop that’s surely less appealing to everyday Kiwis. It’s also the version most New Zealanders will rarely see.

Then there’s the other Chris Bishop: The boy from the Hutt who joins the community run every Saturday morning; the electorate MP who makes sure every constituent email is answered; the socially liberal Nat who joins cross–party groups; and the minister who still makes time to pop into the press gallery offices on Parliament’s ground floor.

Bishop’s appeal to those who meet him isn’t an accidental thing. He works hard to build these relationships across his electorate, across political parties, and with reporters.

In some cases, the relationships he has with journalists pre-date his time as an MP; others he’s cultivated during the past decade. The goodwill is genuine, but he’s also smart enough to know it helps to have a base of mutual respect to fall back on when things get dicey – as they inevitably do in politics.

While Bishop has largely kept his powder dry when it comes to big political scandals, there have been moments that could have landed a different MP in hot water.

In 2018, when Bill English announced his retirement from politics, following the 2017 election in which Winston Peters picked Labour over National, Bishop backed Amy Adams’ leadership bid. In the end, Simon Bridges took over as leader. 

For some MPs, backing the wrong horse would have been the start of their demise, but Bishop managed to rebound. As he’s done time and again.

He did it after then-leader Judith Collins stripped him of his shadow leader of the House portfolio in 2021, when he suggested National treat the Government’s proposed banning of conversion therapy as a conscience issue, rather than a vote along party lines.

In 2023, Bishop was again in hot water over a strongly worded email he sent to a constituent, saying the actions of Hamas on October 7 amounted to barbarity, not seen since the Holocaust.

The email was shared on social media, and Prime Minister Christopher Luxon was forced to have a word with his third-in-charge, after the media started asking questions. But that was the end of the issue.

Of course, none of these run-ins would require an MP to tender a resignation, but ineffective MPs, who don’t enjoy the Prime Minister’s confidence and haven’t built respect among observers, have been banished to the backbenches for less.

“I said: ‘I will support you no matter what party you join, as long as it’s not the Nazi Party’ … he decided to join the National Party and off he went.”

John Bishop, Chris Bishop’s father

Perhaps the most telling comeback from Bishop was early in his political career, when he was questioned about sending private Snapchat messages to teenagers in his electorate.

There was never any suggestion the contents of the messages were inappropriate, and there have since been suggestions of dirty opposition politics.

In response, Bishop put out a statement saying his use of the Snapchat App was an attempt to engage young people in politics. He quickly did away with any private messages, in favour of only posting on an open account.

But because politics is as much about perception as reality, there was always the risk this story would grow legs.

In this case, it didn’t. The media cycle quickly moved on, and other than a few left-wing Twitter accounts and an entry on his Wikipedia page, Bishop says people don’t raise this with him.

He shrugs off the whole thing when Newsroom asks if this story had any lasting impact: “I’m not worried about that in the slightest,” he says.

A couple of hours later, he sends a flurry of texts in quick succession. He says: The original version of the 2018 story that implied some kind of wrongdoing needed to be withdrawn. An apology was issued. But that doesn’t stop it being all over the internet.

Maybe he’s not as thick-skinned as he’d like people to believe. Maybe the flipside of being someone a lot of people like, is caring when people don’t like you.

Bishop’s father John says this incident taught his son early on that being an MP means living life in a fishbowl.

It’s an example of how small mistakes can become big problems, he says.

“It’s always the small things that get you.”

But he reckons it’s good his son cares about what Kiwis think; it’s good he has a sense of purpose and knows what he’s trying to achieve.

According to his dad, Bishop has always been “intellectually active and inquisitive”.

“He was always asking questions, from the time he could talk.”

The start of Bishop’s political consciousness came when he watched the 1996 documentary series Revolution. The series looked at the radical economic reform of the Fourth Labour Government.

“He sat there, gripped by what New Zealand had been like before the Lange-Douglas reforms and the transformation that took place at that time,” John Bishop says.

But Bishop’s political leanings didn’t become clear until he was at university, when he told his father he was planning on joining a political party.

“I said: ‘I will support you no matter what party you join, as long as it’s not the Nazi Party’ … he decided to join the National Party and off he went.”

If he didn’t go into politics, Bishop would’ve fancied himself as a cricketer, but at 40, he knows a career in the Black Caps is now off the cards. He still enjoys picking up the bat, and in a recent match between the media and parliamentarians, he went home sporting a possible broken toe.

Bishop studied law at Victoria University in Wellington, as well as history and politics. He has always held a passion for public law.

It’s this interest that makes Bishop’s position as Leader of the House a good fit. It’s also this passion that raises further questions about his Government’s use of urgency, and decision to concentrate power in ministers’ hands through the fast-track consenting process.

Bishop’s respect for the constitutional process is juxtaposed by his need for speed.

“I’m very comfortable with where we’ve got to,” he says.

“I personally don’t like urgency, but it exists for a reason. It’s not a constitutional outrage in and of itself. It’s there for urgent things and we will use it appropriately and we have used it appropriately so far.” 

One of the things he’s taken out of recent election results is that the public wants the Government to move on things. “They want action on things that are their priorities.”

National sought a mandate from the public to enact specific legislation and policies as soon as the party came to power, and it’s done that, he says.

Before going to work for Steven Joyce and now-Speaker of the House Gerry Brownlee, Bishop did a short stint as a lobbyist for tobacco giant Philip Morris.

Bishop is indignant at his naysayers’ obsession with this part of his work history.

“I don’t have a moral issue with tobacco, it’s a legal product.” Let’s get that out of the way first.

“Democracy is about lobbying,” he goes on.

“Lobbying is first, not illegal. And secondly, it’s part and parcel of a democratic system … I think the connotations of it are, sometimes, misleading.”

MPs in New Zealand are extremely accessible, Bishop says. Anyone can see their local MP about the parking outside their children’s school, or a road in their community.

“We have to be careful to protect that in New Zealand, because we are so open and accessible and that’s a really really positive thing,” Bishop says.

“To be honest, I just reject the idea that is put out there sometimes that people with big pockets have access greater than anybody else. This is just actually not true.”

John Bishop says his son’s work for Philip Morris gave him good experience in the corporate world.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t believe there’s any substance to the criticism.

“After you’ve said it, what happens then?… Yes, it happened, so what? There’s no second verse to the story.”

“If Luxon was crushed by a bus on Lambton Quay tomorrow, it would be Nicola or Christopher.”

John Bishop, Chris Bishop’s father

Since arriving in Parliament, Bishop has held some hefty portfolios. As well as being shadow leader of the House and Covid-19 spokesperson, he also held the police and housing portfolios in opposition. And in 2016, his member’s bill made it possible for live organ donors to be compensated.

Bishop will know better than many that it’s harder to effect change as a minister than it is to throw stones in opposition, especially in big areas like housing.

His trick has always been to comment as an opposition spokesperson, as someone who plans to one day be the minister. Essentially, he’s always tried hard not to make a hypocrite of himself.

But Bishop is certain he can now make a genuine difference through his work to push forward RMA reform, infrastructure projects, and build more houses.

“It’s a very important part of the economy. There’s a lot of moving parts. And there’s a lot of people to get around and talk to, and everyone’s got a view … I always say housing is literally at the root cause of so many social problems. 

“And, yeah, so it’s a very good portfolio in Opposition, but it’s also an equally good portfolio in Government,” he says.

“And ultimately, we’ll get judged as all governments do.”

For someone who has achieved so much, at such a young age, the obvious question is: what next?

Bishop admits to always wanting to be a minister. MPs who say they don’t want to be a minister are lying, he says.

But he also seems like the kind of person whose classmates would’ve voted them most likely to be Prime Minister.

“Oh probably …”

So, does he want the job? Bishop skirts around the question.

He says he will do the job of minister for as long as he can. Or as long as he enjoys the Prime Minister’s confidence.

His father is a little more direct.

“If Luxon was crushed by a bus on Lambton Quay tomorrow, it would be Nicola or Christopher.”