Social investment is not the solution to ending child poverty in Aotearoa

Photos: Irra Lee/TVNZ & Flickr (composite by CPAG)

By Sarita Divis, Executive Officer, Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG) 

Sarita Divis is the executive officer of Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG), a charity  which has advocated systems-level changes to solve child poverty in Aotearoa New Zealand since 1994. Last month, she received an invitation to a Child Poverty Reduction Summit, hosted by MSD at Parliament Buildings. This is how it went. 

Three weeks ago, Child Poverty Action Group received a quiet, last-minute invitation to a Child Poverty Reduction Summit at Parliament’s Grand Hall. A grand setting with grand implications.   

Despite the expensive flights and short notice, we paid up and went. If the Ministers responsible for Finance and Child Poverty Reduction were fronting up, then so would we. Maybe, just maybe, we were finally going to talk about real action. 

After all, the Budget had just forecast that the Government is set to miss its 2028 target to halve child poverty. A national summit, right now, felt like a government that was ready to meet the moment. 

But the promise didn’t match the experience. 

A Grand Hall, a quick exit, and a hollow message  

Around 60 of us arrived at Parliament buildings - community leaders, service providers, advocates, academics, officials. Finance Minister Nicola Willis was a no-show. Child Poverty Reduction Minister Louise Upston delivered heartfelt, well-rehearsed remarks.   

Then she left, too. 

The message from the Minister: Child poverty was a sad reality, but economic growth was the answer. In the meantime, communities should shoulder more of the responsibility.  

There’s a data tool that would administer a Social Investment approach and be used to ensure that communities would be accountable for success or failure, with just a small pot of funding for pilot projects.  

It felt like being asked to clean up after a flood with no mop and no keys to the supply cupboard. With the minister’s departure, the tone was set. Before us were worksheets, asking us to present “successful projects or initiatives” that reduce child poverty.  

We were being asked to show off our proven work, not to be scaled up, but to compete for a shrinking pool of funding. The room was filled with people doing the important mahi every day. Māori and Pacific-led initiatives, housing providers, child health experts, food security champions.  

We weren’t designing national solutions. We were auditioning to manage a crisis, in pieces. 

Stop treating the symptoms, and start treating the cause 

The Child Poverty Reduction Act, passed with cross-party support in 2018, was meant to change the game. It had timelines. Targets. Teeth. 

Now, we see the lines being blurred, between reducing poverty and merely mitigating its effects. They are not the same thing. Child poverty is a problem to be solved, not a crisis to be managed. 

Giving a child breakfast at school is essential. But if that child returns to a home with damp walls, overcrowding, insecure tenancy, and preventable illness, we haven’t solved anything. We’ve hit pause on the symptoms for a few hours out of every school day.  

That’s not transformation. That’s maintenance. 

And what’s worse, these basic needs aren’t niche or new. Every serious expert in the field could list them in their sleep: 

  • Incomes: Children live in families. If those families don’t have enough, neither do their kids. 

  • Housing: Safe, affordable rentals are harder to find than ever. Housing insecurity makes everything else harder. 

  • Food: One in almost three children experience food running out at home “sometimes or often.” That statistic should haunt us. 

  • Healthcare: Cure Kids’ recent State of Child Health report says it plainly—too many tamariki are being hospitalised for conditions we know how to prevent. 

These are not “nice to haves”, they are the non-negotiables. And yet we keep acting like child poverty can be solved by pilot projects and parental responsibility. 

Data for whom? Unlocking tools about us, with us

The Social Investment Approach uses a data tool that could support us in tackling child poverty: the Integrated Data Infrastructure (IDI). It’s the country’s deepest well of de-identified data on individuals and households, sourced from government agencies, Stats NZ surveys, and non-government organisations (NGOs). The data is linked together, or integrated, to form the IDI. 

It allows us to undertake cross-sector research that provides insight into our society and economy, including answering complex questions around the solutions to child poverty.  

CPAG has used it. Treasury has used it too, most notably, to help estimate that halving child poverty by 2028 would cost $3 billion a year. 

But there’s a catch: only a limited group of government policymakers and approved researchers can access IDI. The very communities being asked to lead child poverty solutions - Māori, Pacific, Disability led and grassroots organisations - are locked out. 

So what are we asking them to lead, exactly? How can we say we value community-led solutions, then deny those same communities access to the tools that help them to determine and show the needs of their communities. 

If the government truly wants evidence-based action, then it must share the data and evidence. Data isn’t just a government resource, it’s a public one. It’s about us, and we should be able to access it and use it to support our communities. 

A plan to democratise access to data is a vital part of resourcing community leadership, not just with money, but with mana and trust. 

Social Investment should lift people, not sort them 

We’re told the new solution to ending child poverty  is “social investment”. The idea that early, smart investment can reduce long-term harm is sound however where is this early investment being targeted? 

When systems start “targeting” support based on who’s most cost-effective to help, it becomes less about lifting people and more about sorting them. It can quickly slide into blame. Into punishment. Into stigma. 

And it is never neutral. Around the world, targeted models consistently harm  Indigenous, migrant and disadvantaged communities most. Aotearoa is no exception. 

We must be honest about this. When social investment becomes a way to justify inaction on universal services - like healthcare, warm affordable housing, or food in schools - it stops being investment. It becomes rationing. 

So yes, invest. But invest in systems, not in sorting people. Fix the pipes, not just the leaks. Stop blaming the wet floor, and fix the roof. 

This means: 

• Income reform grounded in dignity and adequacy  

• A large-scale public and community housing programme  

• Adequately funded equitable access to public healthcare.   

• A National Food Strategy – in recognition that our food system is currently in crisis.  

• Māori and Pacific-led, place-based solutions designed by and for their communities 

And above all, it means respect. Respect for the people doing the work. Respect for those experiencing poverty. Respect enough to stay in the room. 

Don’t invite us to a performance. Invite us to a partnership. 

Here’s what Child Poverty Action Group will keep saying:  

Child poverty in Aotearoa isn’t just persisting, it’s getting worse. The Government must acknowledge that reality. 

We need more than words. We need a real, costed, committed plan to reduce - not just manage - child poverty. 

We’re here with solutions, not just criticism. But those solutions can’t be heard if you leave the room. Partnership means staying, listening, and working together. 

Share the data. If you want community-led change, give communities access to the tools they need to lead. 

And please – don’t call it a “Child Poverty Reduction Summit” if you won’t even talk about the core drivers of rising poverty rates: incomes that don’t meet needs, housing, food, and health. 

This summit could have been a catalyst. Instead, it felt like a dress rehearsal with no opening night. 

Next time, show up with a plan, and stay to hear ours. 

Because while Ministers move on, 157,048 children are still waiting - and the number of children in poverty is going the wrong way. 

Media enquiries: comms@cpag.org.nz