Attack on Pero attempt to mask Air NZ's past failings

ONE OF the odd things about being a public personality is that people assume that your presence has a value.

So it is that you're invited to gala openings, official functions, film premieres and even to speak and opine for a sizeable fee. The apogee of this recognition – or nadir if you're so inclined – is to be invited to guest in an upmarket reality TV show like Intrepid Journeys, or Dancing with the Stars.

Even provincial politicians like me have a minor half-life. We get to cut the ribbon at school fetes or have our moustache shaved for charity. Sure, it's not Celebrity Treasure Island, but it's our shot at 15 seconds of fame.

But then we are not the A-List. We're not even the B, C or D-List. That especial regard is reserved for those with true talent, those with lots of money, or those who appear regularly on TV. Including commercials. In fact, this country has quite a record for turning advertising front people into national icons. Starting with the "Moro Man" Ray Henwood in the 1970s, but including more recent mega-notables like Michael Hill – Jeweller, Vince Martin of Beaurepaires, and Mike Pero. Latterly of Mike Pero Mortgages.

He was the perfect telegenic salesman. Good looking, non-threatening and offering to be our mate in negotiating a life debt with blood-sucking bankers. It certainly worked, and most especially for Mike Pero. Within years, the ubiquitous franchise had secured prime locations everywhere, and Pero was a multi-millionaire.

And, like all the nouveau riche, he found plenty of things to do with his newfound wealth and fame. From racing cars to causes. The ascent was complete.

But now our favourite mortgage broker has moved beyond his area of expertise into the weird world that is ghoul travel. Approached by a travel agent and seemingly approved by a prime minister, Pero fronted an audacious plan to offer a commemorative chartered flight over Antarctica to spot the mountain that consumed Flight 901 in our worst peace-time tragedy ever. With tickets starting at $1400 and the premier seats available at $8000.

This rather put Air New Zealand's pallid attempt at remembrance to shame. Sure, it got to send the relatives of the deceased down to the Big White for free. But only six of them, and only in an uncomfortable Hercules transport. To its senior hierarchy this looked like Pero was twitting the big boys again, and pocketing a tidy profit from his cheek.

Cue moral outrage. Air New Zealand ran a systemic campaign through the news media to accuse Pero of unprincipled opportunism. And the kind of poor taste usually reserved for airlines when they start duck-shoving as to who is to blame after they kill their passengers.

Which is why Air New Zealand is so abnormally sensitive. Thirty years may have elapsed, but the national carrier is still scarred with the fact that it killed its charges through a mix of its own collective error and arrogance. Quite why you would want to commemorate this kind of stupidity, I don't know. But then tragedy is such a personal thing. Husbands, wives, lovers, children, mums and dads were all lost on that fateful flight. Its demise shocked and then rocked a nation. The subsequent blame shifting and legal shenanigans sullied any attempt at dignity.

So the wounds are still exposed, despite the fact that most New Zealanders under the age of 40 really don't have a cultural reference. In addition, many New Zealanders quietly believe that this tragedy is no greater than their own. And they are a trifle mystified as to why the government is now being expected to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a free flight, when the death of their loved ones received no acknowledgement whatsoever.

Which is the thing about the grieving process. It is so intensely singular, so utterly personal. Many – probably most – Erebus families will have moved on and remember their relatives in their own way. The idea of reliving their pain – through ceremony or commemorative flight – will not appeal.

Yes, Mike Pero's timing could have been better. But it did highlight the odd inconsequence that was Air New Zealand's response. Indeed, it looked positively petty by comparison. Pero at least gave all relatives an option. Air New Zealand did not.

Eventually though, Pero has folded. He is obviously not used to the media nor politics, because the pressure of 24 hours of criticism was enough for him to suspend his idea. He misunderstood that media coverage – and the public criticism of a few – does not constitute public opinion.

Most public reaction that could be gauged was actually favourable. Online internet polls, talkback callers and chat groups were generally complimentary of his initiative, and dismissive of Air New Zealand's affected outrage. They were won over by his pledge that any profits be dedicated to the Koru Care kids' charity.

It is still a good idea. Especially the paying part. There is no way that the taxpayer should be apportioned to salve the national carrier's conscience. Its shame continues because it still finds it so damned hard to do the right thing.

And because any commemoration must inevitably remind Air New Zealand of its blame as well.

mlaws@radiolive.co.nz