Talking Politics: Interview with Tāmaki Electorate Labour Candidate Max Harris
- Viviene Bunquin
- Aug 6
- 7 min read
Crisp hashbrowns (in spirit), nimble chocolate digestives, and NZ Natural sparkling water. A rather modest meal for today’s interviewee: none other than Labour’s candidate for the Tāmaki electorate—writer, barrister, and campaigner Max Harris. Sporting a slim black hoodie, an 'Honour Te Tiriti' T-shirt (shout-out), and Oxford-coded oversized frames, Harris could easily have passed as a student again as he sat across from me, flipping through the colourful pages of this year’s Craccum issues. “A shameless plug,” I add heartily, as my eyes adjust to the neon-white glow of the laptop screen in our dimly lit office.
Harris accepts my offer with grace, recalling his own stint with the student magazine back at university. “I never felt brave enough to go up here,” he admits, his eyes flitting around the office. Still, he remembers writing articles for Craccum during his second year at university, as he settled into and became attuned to the rhythm of bustling Tāmaki Makaurau.
Born with flat feet, and therefore naturally outpaced by his school peers on the athletic field, Harris spoke about this early feeling of being “left behind.” He developed a deep sense of solidarity with marginalised communities, setting out to advocate for a progressive politics that ensured no one was left behind. Harris recalled the universal struggles of being a poor student while also being surrounded by other critically minded students who, like him, sought to make a positive impact on their communities. While living overseas, Harris was diagnosed with a serious health condition that further compelled him to advocate for a more robust and accessible public healthcare system. The mahi was never his to shoulder alone. He cites the inspirations who reinforced his desire to serve the community: Moana Jackson, the Rt. Honourable Dame Sian Elias (for whom Harris clerked), Sir Kim Workman, and Jane Kelsey. Not a bad line-up, for sure.
Since starting his electoral campaign, Harris has continued to serve the communities he has had the privilege of meeting and getting to know, taking care to learn as much as he can from them. “What have you learned from your work in the community?” I ask. “…Everything,” Harris says, resolutely.
He speaks about his long-standing connection to the Tāmaki electorate: tutoring students through the Tāmaki Tutoring Project, undertaking legal work for clients in the area, and working on community campaigns with people from the electorate. Whether on the doorsteps of people’s homes, at the local retirement village, or outside the offices of WINZ, Harris acknowledges that the people of Tāmaki are deeply hurting.
People’s lives were inevitably destabilised by broad sweeping decisions made by the current government. Despite sharing collective anxieties about the future direction of the community, Harris recognised people’s remarkable resourcefulness during times of struggle. “I’m grateful for the warmth shown by people who are willing to pop into the office and chat with me.” He drew from his experience in legal practice, through which he was able to serve and collaborate with Māori communities—from hapū, iwi, and local marae. Through the ‘Fairer Future’ campaign, Harris also advocated for reform of the welfare system to recenter compassion in the public service.
Speaking more specifically about his local campaign, Harris highlighted the impact of the fuel crisis on the communities of Tāmaki. Support workers, for example, are being forced to travel every day from East Auckland to South Auckland despite receiving no top-ups to offset higher costs. He is particularly interested in the commissioning of public social services following his involvement in welfare and dental campaigns, as well as in economic policy, informed by his postgraduate studies in the UK.
Such ambitious goals undoubtedly attract some challenges. “It’s definitely not easy on some days,” Max admits, “especially as a first-time political candidate.” There is the ongoing issue of scarce resources, including on practicalities such as setting up a new office.
“However, it all comes down to people power… building genuine trust and relationships that centre the community. This is how we join the dots between political decisions and people’s lives.”
Harris leans back and reflects on some of his most inspiring interactions on the campaign trail thus far. “The turn of phrase in the community is often better than what politicians have to say,” Harris remarks. I’d concur—Waipapa Taumata Rau is rife with outspoken political opinions. Keep them coming, Craccum readers.
Harris has been writing about politics and serving the public sector long before his bid for local office. In 2017, he wrote a book dedicated to re-envisioning a form of progressive politics grounded in an ethic of care: The New Zealand Project. I remember coming across Harris’ book in my high school library and being intrigued by its title and the progressive project it hinted at. I asked Max whether he would change anything in the book to adapt it for a 2026 audience, or whether its message still resonates strongly today.
Harris chuckles at first. “Almost anything I put into print makes me cringe.” This earned me his candour, for this author experiences the same self-doubt too, albeit perhaps for a more legitimate reason. (Fun fact: Unlike me, Max has been widely published as a writer across various news outlets!) In all seriousness, though, Harris stood by his initial observations of a serious decline in values-based politics in New Zealand. He still strives for a politics imbued with values such as care, community, and creativity—with love as the unifying thread. Although other policy ideas explored in the book are best regarded as products of their time, Harris has specifically retained his conviction that holistic health and well-being depend on ensuring universal access to healthcare.
It came as no surprise that my discussion with Max was far-reaching and intellectually agile. The term “jack of all trades” perhaps falls short of capturing Harris’ achievements. I wondered how he managed to balance so many different hats at once. It turns out that nothing beats an old-school paper diary, with Harris’ filled to the margins. While a healthy dose of code-switching and moving between different communities is inevitable, it is precisely this multifaceted dance, so to speak, that keeps Harris engaged. Talking about not spending his whole time in the legal community, he says: “I really appreciate dipping my feet and toes into many different communities, so as to avoid becoming engulfed in one way of thinking.” I nodded in agreement. In many ways, it can be easy to speak within an echo chamber and preach to the choir. I asked Harris what his message would be to young voters who remain undecided or have yet to enrol ahead of the general election this November.
“This government has launched a war on young people through the removal of the Fees Free policy, changes to Jobseeker support for 18 and 19-year-olds, and by making it harder for people to enrol to vote.”
Pay equity, renters’ rights, and the proposed reviews of Treaty clauses are, he argues, among the many areas in which this government has chosen to reverse previous progress. Voting is one form of power we forego by failing to enrol and cast a ballot. Even in our inaction, we will still be affected by the decisions of the state. Harris also makes a nuanced point about fostering positive civic habits early on, with research suggesting that individuals who enrol and vote earlier in life are more likely to maintain that habit in the future. It is at this point in the conversation that Harris also directly pitches for the Labour Party, asserting that in the best moments of Labour’s History “Labour’s values have become New Zealand values.” The Labour Party finds its roots in the power of community, and Harris aspires not only for an opposition that seeks to undo what this government has done, but one that also crystallises hope for our communities.
And because I always enjoy learning about the person behind the (aspiring) politician, I playfully asked how Harris would spend his ideal weekend. The question elicited genuine excitement from the otherwise calm and measured speaker. “Some door-knocking, of course. Then perhaps a Warriors game on Friday night. Saturday morning starts with some hashbrowns.” As an avid music fan, Harris also imagines taking his records for a spin, seeing which gigs are on, and finding an opportunity to dance. If winter were briefly suspended, Sunday would be reserved for a relaxing swim and hours lost in a good book—a hobby Harris laments he never has enough time for. Boy, does this author relate!
Predictably, our interview wrapped up with a very “professional” photo-op (as pictured below). As we bonded over our shared enthusiasm for hashbrowns one last time, I reflected on the past hour with Max. While he headed off to finalise court submissions due in just a couple of hours, I returned to the Craccum office contemplating who might be sitting in those same chairs a few years from now. I wondered how many students might one day take the plunge into politics; anchoring careers built on the values they developed during their university years—never compromising them despite what the "real world" demands of us. As students, we often navigate the pressures of work, family, and finances while believing our values must eventually be traded away. But Harris encourages students to “lead our lives in a way which aligns with our values.”
The choice is yours to make.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author and interviewee, and do not necessarily reflect the views or editorial standards of Craccum or the Auckland University Students’ Association (AUSA).
BY VIVIENE BUNQUIN
News Editor
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