Erica’s Bloopers: Sanitised Media, Unsanitised Truths

By ELV

A 15-minute live interview featuring Erica Stanford and Chris Luxon discussing the Government’s new student progress reporting framework quietly disappeared in its original form.

What remained—on The New Zealand Herald—was a cleaned version. Softer. Smoothed. Re-presented.

Maybe that happened because I had already pointed out the uncomfortable moments in the original footage and where to find them. Shortly after, those links were refreshed.

Anyone with even a basic understanding of digital media knows this: you don’t really delete content online. You only bury it. And, helpfully, some very organised people didn’t let this one disappear. The original clip was uploaded to Facebook. The digital footprint remains.

After what people like I Am Brie Elliot endure for speaking out, none of this surprised me. But it does show the public something important—especially in an election year.

We are not neutral consumers of political information. We are fed narratives.

Politicians operate at the whim of the media, yes—but they also exert influence over it. 

Stories are framed, softened, delayed, or amplified depending on timing, polling, and political convenience. Sometimes, when one side looks like it’s winning too comfortably, a little dirt is allowed to slip through, like the fire fighter who made rude gesters behind Luxon's back. Not enough to derail—just enough to rebalance the odds.

The fire fighter who needed a new hose

Most critical thinkers already understand this. What made this moment different is that the evidence was visible. A slip that couldn’t be fully erased.

For anyone who’s been told they’re “reading too much into it,” this was confirmation: you’re not mad. You’re paying attention.

Out of curiosity, I decided to try editing the same clip myself—using nothing more sophisticated than a basic tool like Google Vids. Not to manipulate, but to understand how meaning is constructed through editing: the same techniques politicians and media teams routinely use.

The process made me hyper-vigilant to body language and facial expression—how a glance, a pause, a gesture can quietly shift a story.

That’s when I noticed something I’d missed on the first watch.

At one point, Erica Stanford promises parents they will see a difference in their children’s report cards this year.

Immediately, Chris Luxon elbows her. Subtle—but unmistakable. A quiet stop talking. She pulls a tight, awkward expression. Tries to recover. Tries to regain favour.

Why this matters

Because the policy she was speaking as if it were settled has not yet been legislated or mandated through Parliament.

Teachers are not currently legally required to use this reporting system. Yet the implication was already there—presented as a done deal (fait accompli), as if the decision had already been made.

And when the wider, deeply contested education legislation—the System Reform Bill—is rushed through, as we have every reason to expect, it’s unlikely this will be the part that slows things down.

Why voters should care

This isn’t about a blooper reel for laughs.

It’s about how politicians’ certainty is performed before authority is granted.

It’s about language being used to make future compliance feel inevitable.

It’s about parents being reassured before democratic process has finished doing its job.

When reporting systems change, it isn’t ministers who absorb the impact—it’s teachers rewriting systems overnight and children being measured against criteria they never consented to. Some schools have really robust reporting systems that they have co constructed with their communities — what happens to those?

When ministers speak as if outcomes are already locked in, it tells us exactly how consultation with our educational community is being treated.

Why do you think academics, respected educators, and education organisations are making so much noise? If this were simply resistance to change, educators would have opposed every reform of the past 30 years—and they haven’t. If it were opposition to progress for children, that would be absurd. The concern is process, not progress.

You’re welcome to watch the sanitised versions.

You’re welcome to watch my version below.

But don’t mistake polish for truth.

In election years especially, the most revealing moments are often the ones someone tried very hard to tidy away.

This time, they didn’t quite manage it.