Ardern is a disarmingly likable, warm and funny narrator, as gloriously informal on the page as she seems in person. A policeman’s daughter, raised within the Mormon church in a rural community down on its luck, she paints a vivid picture of herself as conscientious, anxious, and never really sure she was good enough for the job ... Her book feels constructed for an international audience ...
But while all this makes for an emotionally rich and candid read, the downside of skipping the political detail is that it’s hard to get a sense of how exactly her astonishing early popularity ebbed away ... She’s also notably keener to dwell on what her tenure says about kindness and empathy being powerful mechanisms for changing lives than she is to engage with the critique that she failed to deliver on some of her more tangible promises around alleviating poverty.
Nonetheless, I closed the book feeling a pang of nostalgia for a time when scrapping tax cuts and spending the money on a more generous safety net, or clasping immigrants to a nation’s heart, (as she did after Christchurch) still seemed completely plausible things for a prime minster to advocate. A different kind of power, for what now feels like a sadly different world.
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