Child Poverty

Children living in poverty in Aotearoa do not look like those familiar media images of thin children standing next to tents. Here’s what a child living in poverty in Aotearoa looks like: they don’t eat protein or vegetables for many main meals. They can’t afford shoes or a uniform for school. Their parents can’t pay for a birthday celebration. Normal family outings such as going to the beach are a luxury. They live in a cold house because heating is too expensive. 

 

‘Child poverty’ isn’t a very accurate term. Poverty does not only affect children – it affects families and whole communities. In my line of work, we always see the child as surrounded by their family, community and environment – influences that cushion and protect. But what if those layers of protection are missing, unable to function or without enough resources to draw on?  Poverty affects families, communities and often whole sectors of society. 

 

In fact, seeing as 1 in 5 families experience poverty in Aotearoa – or an estimated 144,000 Kiwi children on the 2024 statistics – chances are high you’ll know – or be – someone who has been there. 

 

Growing Up In NZ, a longitudinal study which tracks over time how factors such as poverty impact on children in Aotearoa, published a report* showing that not only was material hardship common in the childhood years, but that most of these children experienced poverty very young, at preschool age. 

 

Poverty impacts young children more, affecting lifelong physical and mental health. A young child impacted by less access to food, housing or healthcare is likely to suffer ongoing effects as an adult, be less able to participate in the workforce, and to die younger. Even more profound are the effects on genes (known as epigenes) – so a deprivation suffered by one individual might echo through to their descendants. Poverty isn’t fair either: Growing Up In NZ data also showed that certain groups are disproportionately affected by material hardship. These are homes run by solo parents, low income, Māori and Pacific families.

 

Poverty is very relevant to healthcare resource. If the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff – our hospital services – are straining under ever increasing demand, then it’s common sense to tackle the issues from the ‘top of the cliff’. These are things that affect wellness like housing, food, employment and education. Also at the top of the cliff is access to primary healthcare, such as GPs, community and mental health services and public health initiatives like vaccination. 

 

Poverty is the marker that the prior guardrails are falling and we’re moving closer to the cliff edge. It’s caused by lack of the above factors. But poverty itself also decreases the resiliency required to deal with any challenges, or indeed to pay for the things needed to access healthcare – such as transport, or time off. To stay with the same image, there’s no parachute if they fall off the cliff edge. They will  be more likely to need hospital care and take longer to recover their health.

 

Last month, Stats NZ released its latest report card of child poverty statistics (to June last year – see link below). The results are depressing: while the proportion of children affected by poverty dipped between 2018 and 2022, it is now rising again, and we’re back to around where we were in 2018. This was the year the NZ government, with cross-party support, committed to legislation tackling child poverty using public targets and reporting – the Child Poverty Reduction Bill.

 

Want even more bad news? Next year’s statistics are likely to be worse, as they will cover the last six months (and whatever is around the corner to June 2025): recession, foodbanks closing, and benefit sanctions leaping up.

 

So how do we measure child poverty? It’s complicated. That’s why Stats NZ uses many different tools, each designed to look at the issue from a different angle. 

 

Worryingly, despite this being mandated in legislation, the coalition government is shifting the goal posts on the reporting component. Last year, community advocacy groups caught the Social Development Minister Louise Upston quietly downscaling the child poverty reduction target – citing ‘it was too ambitious’ as her reason. 

 

Stats NZ, which like other government agencies has been tasked with finding impossible ‘savings’, recently stopped one of its key surveys tracking material hardship – reducing their ability to accurately measure child poverty. You may remember the Key government claimed that they couldn’t measure child poverty because it was ‘too hard’ to do so accurately. Coincidence, surely?

 

So, experts agree we can measure, and then track over time. Can we achieve the other objective of the Bill – to reduce the percentage of children in Aotearoa affected by poverty? Yes.

 

Numerous reports, many commissioned by government from experts then carefully filed in a back office, have laid out clear, research-evidenced pathways to moving to reduce poverty. We know they work because a small number of the recommendations were implemented, resulting in the reductions seen between 2018-2022. If more were implemented, we’d see further improvements – slow and steady wins the race.

 

Here are some of the things that work to reduce the percentage of children living in hardship: improving access to quality housing, Working for Families payments, lifting minimum wage, incentivising fair pay agreements.

 

If poverty is preventable, then the health conditions it perpetuates are also preventable. That’s why seeing a child in my clinic with skin infections, or heart disease caused by rheumatic fever, or even behavioural problems – all medical issues correlated to living in material hardship – fills me with rage and hopelessness. That’s because we could have saved this child from suffering/ meeting me by intervening at the top of the cliff.

 

So, what do we do to get back to making progress?

 

First, we have to cut through the spin and really pay attention. You’re probably numb by now, as I am, to news that benefits and payments are being reduced or cancelled entirely, people are being taken out of emergency housing (to go – where? The Government doesn’t know) and recently, the Living Wage agreement has been kneecapped. But consider this: each of these are cords of the parachute being cut.

 

When families do fall into my waiting room, we also know that they are going to need connection back to services and communities to help them recover. Unfortunately, these are also the services – ideally, tailormade to rural and regional locations, specific to certain communities, and strengthened by cultural considerations – that are being defunded right now. 

 

If we are to do the best by our communities and our beleaguered health system, then we must protect children and families before they fall. As communities often remind us, if we give them the resources in enough time, they can help themselves. Also, it is often money better spent, from a financial as well as moral perspective.

 

Last year, officials told the government that reaching current 2027/28 child poverty reduction targets (11 per cent, or just over one in 10 children in poverty) would require investment of $3 billion a year – around half our annual spend on roads. It’s a matter of political priorities. 

 

How can you help? Simply – by being aware, starting conversations, and advocating where you can. The health of all of us will be better for it. 

 

If you’re interested, join the mailing lists of non partisan advocacy groups like Child Poverty Action Group (cpag.org.nz) or the Child Poverty Monitor (https://www.childpoverty.org.nz/) – they publish reports with plenty of grounded, commonsense suggestions for action. 

 

*To see reports: growingup.co.nz/growing-up-report/material-hardship

 

stats.govt.nz/information-releases/child-poverty-statistics-year-ended-june-2024/

 

For feedback, email us at: info@northandsouth.co.nz