Should the government feed children? It may seem like an obvious ‘yes’—but what if we’re feeding something less desirable? The school lunch programme has been plagued by late deliveries, uneaten meals, and, most recently, exploding pies. The real problem isn’t logistics. It’s the cultural shift away from self-reliance.

Let’s be clear: this is not about whether poor, hungry children deserve food. They do. A deeper philosophical question is whether we’ve become so accustomed to the government stepping in that we no longer ask if it should.

State expansion into social welfare dates back to the 1890s. The radical expansion of the state led a French observer in 1901, Albert Métin, to describe New Zealand politics as “socialism without doctrine”—a place where government involvement grew arbitrarily without a grand, cohesive ideological vision.

Then came the First Labour Government. Bad economic times justified unprecedented measures… according to popular history. In fact, Michael Joseph Savage inherited an economy that had been in recovery for two—yes, two—years from the Great Depression. Nonetheless, the Social Security Act of 1938 introduced welfare on an unprecedented scale, embedding the expectation that the government would take primary responsibility for social well-being. By the post-war years, state control over healthcare, housing, and employment was entrenched, with government spending doubling. What began as a safety net became an expectation.

The more we expect the state to feed our children, the less we expect families to do it.

Many Kiwis will ask, “But isn’t it good for the government to help? Isn’t it fair?” The problem is that when the state steps in, others step back. Edmund Burke warned that society thrives when responsibility is carried by its “little platoons”—families, faith groups, and local communities. These small, organic institutions bind people together and cultivate a sense of duty. When the government absorbs their role, it doesn’t just provide—it weakens the very structures that hold society together. The more we expect the state to feed our children, the less we expect families to do it. The more we rely on bureaucracy to solve social problems, the more civil society withers.

The government is not neutral. It can often be inefficient, bureaucratic, and expensive. Evidence? Health NZ’s $28 billion Excel spreadsheet. There is no such thing as a free lunch—taxpayers foot the bill, yet the actual cost is cultural. Every new government service creates dependence, and dependence runs the risk of control. As Roger Scruton said, “Top-down government breeds irresponsible individuals, and… widespread refusal among the citizens to act for themselves.”

So, how do we turn back? Not abrupt cuts but gradual shifts. Support local solutions—schools partnering with charities and businesses rather than defaulting to government programmes. Empower parents—provide resources that help families rather than replace them. Redefine fairness—not as equal outcomes dictated from above, but as communities supporting their own.

Kiwis are proud, independent people, but at present there’s a certain dullness of spirit. Let’s revive it—not by demanding more from the state but by reclaiming what we’ve lost: community, responsibility, and self-reliance. Philosophically and culturally, there’s no free lunch.