6/5/2025 | Politics | AU
The resignation of Michael Forbes, a senior staffer to New Zealand Prime Minister Christopher Luxon, over allegations of secretly recording women, is not just another political scandal. It’s a stark reminder of the systemic failures that allow those in power to exploit the vulnerable while institutions look the other way. The case, involving covert audio recordings of sex workers and surreptitious photos of women in public spaces, reveals a chilling pattern of predatory behavior shielded by privilege and weak legal safeguards.
At its core, this scandal taps into a universal emotional trigger: the violation of bodily autonomy. Few things provoke as visceral a reaction as the realization that one’s most private moments—whether in a bedroom, gym, or supermarket—could be stolen and stored without consent. It’s a betrayal that transcends borders, resonating with anyone who has ever felt objectified or surveilled. The fact that these accusations involve a government official, someone entrusted with public service, only magnifies the outrage.
Yet the hypocrisy here is glaring. Prime Minister Luxon’s immediate condemnation—declaring "zero tolerance" for behavior that makes women "feel unsafe"—rings hollow when weighed against the timeline. Police received complaints about Forbes as early as July 2024, yet he remained in high-profile roles, first as press secretary to Social Development Minister Louise Upston, then as Luxon’s deputy chief press secretary. How does a man accused of such egregious violations continue to hold positions requiring ethics and discretion? The answer lies in a familiar political reflex: prioritize damage control over accountability.
The human impact is devastating. Sex workers, already marginalized and stigmatized, were forced into amateur detective work to uncover Forbes’ recordings—a burden no citizen should bear. Women going about their daily lives, unaware they’d been photographed in supermarkets or gyms, now grapple with lingering unease. These are not abstract victims; they’re mothers, students, professionals whose sense of security was stolen with each click of a hidden camera. Their stories reflect a broader societal plague: the normalization of gendered surveillance, where technology weaponizes the male gaze.
This scandal arrives amid 2020s reckoning with institutional trust. In New Zealand, where Jacinda Ardern once symbolized progressive leadership, the current administration’s delayed response echoes global trends of power protecting its own. Consider the parallels: America’s #MeToo backlash, Australia’s parliamentary sexual assault controversies, Britain’s MP misconduct scandals. Each reveals how systems designed to uphold justice often shield perpetrators—especially when they’re politically useful. The Luxon government’s call for an "inter-agency review" feels less like reform and more like bureaucratic gatekeeping.
Historical context deepens the disillusionment. New Zealand pioneered women’s suffrage in 1893, yet today, its legal framework around voyeurism remains startlingly weak. Unlike Canada or the UK, where upskirting and covert recordings carry felony charges, New Zealand’s privacy laws often treat such acts as misdemeanors—if they’re prosecuted at all. Police dismissing the initial brothel complaint because it "didn’t meet the threshold" exemplifies this failure. When the law lags behind technology, predators exploit the gap.
Tangentially, the case unveils uncomfortable truths about political staffing. Forbes’ trajectory—from social development to the prime minister’s office—mirrors a global pattern where loyalty trumps vetting. In Westminster systems, staffers operate as extensions of their bosses, wielding influence without public scrutiny. The result? A breeding ground for misconduct. Remember Australia’s "Bonk Ban" scandals or the UK’s "Pestminster" controversies? Power, proximity, and impunity create toxic ecosystems where entitlement festers.
The solution lies beyond performative resignations. First, voyeurism laws require urgent modernization, with stiffer penalties and clearer victim protections. Second, political offices must implement third-party misconduct reporting—removing the incentive to bury complaints. Most crucially, society must confront the underlying misogyny that frames women’s bodies as public property. From deepfake pornography to spy cams, technology will keep evolving. Our ethics can’t afford to lag behind.
As this scandal fades from headlines, its lesson lingers: no democracy is immune to the rot of unchecked power. For every Michael Forbes exposed, countless others operate in shadows, enabled by weak laws and institutional cowardice. The true test for New Zealand—and any nation—isn’t weathering the scandal, but dismantling the systems that allowed it. Until then, trust remains the ultimate casualty.
Legal Disclaimer
This opinion piece is a creative commentary based on publicly available news reports and events. It is intended for informational and educational purposes only. The views expressed are those of the author and do not constitute professional, legal, medical, or financial advice. Always consult with qualified experts regarding your specific circumstances.
By George Oxley, this article was inspired by this source.