It’s simply too hard to accept she didn’t know it was an assault of a sexual nature.
Her staff knew.
Her party knew.
Parliament knew. The media knew.
Grant Robertson knew (but can’t say what).
Kelvin Davis heard a rumour in Māori. How helpful.
And even the woman selling the $3 coffees by the lift knew, although Kelvin wasn’t sure if she was talking about the assaults at Labour’s summer camp or this latest one.
And Labour’s ruling council knew too. Ardern is on that body. Did she sit in on discussions over this? She won’t say. Why not?
We’re being asked to accept that the one person who didn’t know was the one person with the ability to remove the staffer from his job.
It looks like Labour put tribalism and its survival first, and the welfare and care of this woman a distant second. It’s no surprise. What a debacle investigating itself. It’s like putting a drug dealer in charge of his own trial. Not guilty, your honour, nothing at all to see here.
And all this when the PM was herself spouting off about the #metoo era being the cleanout and welcome change that was well overdue.
That was change for everyone else.
So was Ardern living under a rock for the past nine months, hibernating until the northern summer broke and she could safely strut the international stage without minuscule domestic annoyances like a sexual assault complicating matters.
Why can’t life be easier? Why do silly little matters like this have to blight my best work.
And the fawning international media phase has just started again with a Washington Post profile.