The people behind the politics
Todd Muller, 54, at a Press Conference in his time of being leader of the National Party. Photo: RNZ / Don Thomas.
Disclaimer: This article mentions mental health and the struggles that come with it.
As Aotearoa embarks its political journey, and students start googling ‘how to vote’, pressure begins to settle. Politicians can either rise to the occasion or fall between the cracks, but is it really a choice?
Mental health and politics, a collision of words rarely together unless it’s ammunition for a catchy headline. With the election creeping up, it appears the only real conversations about mental health arise when a politician reaches the finish line as a result of their mental public destruction.
Despite the absence of a political bone in my body, it’s not hard to understand that being a politician is a tough gig. Behind the policies, suits and the billboards are human beings, with brains, hearts and feelings.
On January 19th 2023, Jacinda greeted the new year with a shock resignation, and the conversation began to linger about whether it was a result of burnout. Alluding to that case, in her resignation speech she said, “I no longer have enough in the tank to do the job.”
Her journey as Prime Minister was no mean feat, battling Covid, a reprimand of angry citizens due to lockdowns, the tragic mosque shooting as well as the White Island eruption.
During this time, another story started to encompass national headlines…the resignation of National party leader, Todd Muller. After a brief 53 days as leader of the opposition, Muller stepped down from the role after slowly mentally deteriorating, resulting in what was labelled a “public breakdown.”
53 days of leadership, 100 days out from election, 10kgs lost. The price of power, but at what cost?
“I was terrified, I mean I was so sick. I knew about two or three weeks in that I was gone” said Muller. “But I could not accept that I was, because I was terrified because of whatever it would mean to the reputation of the party, of myself, of my wife and my teenage kids can have a dad that's had a public mental breakdown.”
His resignation resulted in the crowning of the shortest serving political party leader, but after conversing with Muller over a cuppa, 53 days was not short enough.
“It got to the point, where on a Monday morning, the pain was so bad I just wanted it to stop. And I've been asked before was that suicidal? I don't believe it was.”
“I can remember the feeling in my head, if I could just stumble and fall down here on these concrete steps, then the pain will go away. Because I'll have to go to hospital. And I won't be able to carry on doing this job.”
As news sites pumped out multiple articles on his resignation, it felt as though they brushed the surface of his mental health struggles, speaking purely the facts of what Muller had presented to the public.
But it’s not often we see high-up male political figures acknowledging their struggles with mental health whilst opening up about it to a nation.
I connected with Muller through email, with no expectation of a response due to the election. However, a few days later we had locked in a time to meet.
Greeted by a firm handshake, a sunny smile and a flowing conversation, my heart gently returned to its normal rate, as my brain finally recognised that I’m interviewing a human being, not just a politician.
Before politics was disseminated through slightly cringe TikToks, Muller reveals how his love for politics grew through scanning a world Encyclopaedia book as a young boy. Exposed to the world of US politics first, Muller practiced ex-presidents’ signatures, whilst imaging their lives and dreaming he could once step into a similar role one day.
With a determined mindset, he continued to take steps in order to pursue his dreams, working as a young Nat whilst at uni, completing his master’s in politics, further moving closer by working under Prime Minister Jim Bolger as his executive assistant at the ripe age of 25.
After hanging up his democratic hat for a brief 20-year intermission, he returned to the re-directed political wheel when he was 45 due to a “big blue seat” appearing in his hometown after Tony Ryle stood down.
Little did he expect his journey would take such a sour turn, when taking up what he classified as possibly the hardest role in Aotearoa politics, leader of the National Party, and leader of the opposition.
Muller with wife Michelle (left), shortly after becoming leader of the National Party. Photo: Rosa Woods.
Muller depicted how his journey began smoothly. Until day five, when the hurricane began.
He’d conversed with ex-Prime Minister John Key while driving from Auckland to Tauranga, feeling confident, and content until suddenly a puzzling phenomenon seized his body.
“I got absolutely poleaxed by huge waves of anxiety and nervousness. It felt like waves of terror that would start at my feet and sort of come up over my head. And they would just keep going.”
Succeeding his first encounter with a chilling panic attack, he confided with his wife about this feeling, accompanied by some tears, but woke up the next day feeling a little drained. The days proceeded, and they just got worse, and worse and worse.
If five days of being the leader can produce this amount of stress, it does provoke the question, how truly intense is this job?
Despite the shock to his system, Muller was proactive. He saw his doctor, got the sleeping pills, was prescribed medication, attempted the typical yoga wellness tactics, but the weight was clearly too much to carry. 20 hours of work in a single day, resulted in zero chance of breaking the cycle. It pushed Muller deeper into the pit.
As Muller re-lives his relentless pain induced by his political power, his body and face dissociate back to that hard place, showing the lingering presence of hard times.
“Over time… I grew harder and harder skin. But whilst it might keep the rain out, it doesn’t allow the emotions out either.”
Resigning as leader of the National Party did not conclude his political journey, as he became the MP for the Bay of Plenty. He’s evidently grateful for the support amongst the community, mentioning the power of social media for the lovely messages he’s been flicked, as well as the support from his children’s mates and their chill and understanding energy. But something Muller had never accommodated for was triggers.
“Going down to Wellington, I found very hard because I was surrounded by all these triggers. I never truly understood what triggers were before, I was empathetic, but didn’t really get it” he said.
“I get that now it is a visceral response. And parliament is full of moments and corridors and spaces that remind me of that.”
During Mullers political leadership, his breakdown sparked a large conversation in the world of parliamentary power, and in more recent times, we can see this conversation beginning again.
Plastering national headlines currently is the shocking news regarding ex-Labour MP Kiri Allan being charged with careless driving and resisting arrest. 250-400 mg of alcohol was detected on her breath following the arrest, and her resignation quickly followed suit.
Kiri Allan’s public exit could be seen as her tipping point, but in reality her mental health struggles have endured for a while, after many breaks from the political sphere due to personal struggles.
This further sparks the worry of how far these politicians are pushed physically and mentally. Bringing to light the ugly side of politics, where serious mental breakdowns are publicised and the ability to maintain privacy is out of reach.
Swarbrick has experienced the inside of parliament and says it needs to get better. Photo: 1News
Chloe Swarbrick, who entered politics at a fresh 23, has experienced the turmoil of parliament and the effect it can have on mental ill health.
“We've not set up a political environment to get the best out of people,” she said.
“You are detached from who you are as an individual, and you become a concept. And when you're a concept people can project onto you whether those are positive or negative things.”
Where is the support for our politicians? The people who hold the power, create our laws and pave our future? Do we really want politicians with minimal mental support running our government?
With broken people and possibly a broken system, there is serious thought that needs to be moved towards what the future of parliamentary spaces look, sound and feel like.
“Parliament is such a weird space man. There’s nothing like it. It's like Hogwarts, but meaner” said Swarbrick.
“…I don't think it is a good base for building a healthy culture for anyone.”
After questioning the support amongst the political community, it appears both Swarbrick and Muller found support through their own measures. Swarbrick comments on her blessed green party matriarchs, with Muller touching on his long car journey chats with John Key.
My coffee was still half full when we said goodbye. It was impossible to steer myself away from anything but our conversation, as I was truly captured by Mullers authenticity and vulnerability.
“I wasn't brave because I stood out. I was broken. I could not stand up” said Muller.
But I beg to differ. He denied his bravery, but his experience rang true. Proving that stories like Todd Mullers are worth telling, and mental health conversations will never go to waste.