It’s 2.30am in Epsom. Someone has attempted to invade my elderly neighbour’s home. The offender is still in the vicinity. The police have been called but they aren’t coming – too busy. I’m standing in the street on my own. I’m thinking I have nothing in my hands to defend myself. How can I arm myself? This is what lawlessness feels like.

As our country grapples with increasing crime and social breakdown, there are probably many other similar stories. And like me, many people thinking – how can they protect their family and community. If the police aren’t coming, then we’re on our own. It’s up to us. This is a dangerous place for our country to be in. And we need to ask, how did we get here?

My own story began two hours earlier. I was woken after midnight by a loud crash. Going outside to investigate I found my elderly neighbours looking at a large hole smashed through their ranch-slider. A sizeable chunk of concrete lay inside on their floor. No car had driven off and I sensed the offender was still around. A call to the police proved fruitless. They were too busy. I was surprised, as it was only a Tuesday night. I suggested a dog would quickly find the culprit, but to no avail. Police would not attend. So my elderly neighbour resigned himself to sleeping in a chair by his broken door for the rest of the night. He was determined to guard his property and protect his wife. And in the dark with my cell-phone light, I checked around their house and reassured them no-one was there. I was wrong.

Two hours later I was abruptly woken again – this time by shouting. The offender had returned and tried to access the house via the ranch-slider. A hand reaching through the broken glass to unlatch the door had alerted my neighbour. Again I rushed out, but again the offender had disappeared. However there was no doubt he was somewhere nearby. Another more urgent call to the police still gave no assurance that they would attend. And so I waited in the street. And at that point, in the dark, I realised I was on my own. The sense of vulnerability was palpable. I had nothing in my hand to defend myself or my neighbour. And the police weren’t coming. The question about how to arm myself was inevitable.

So how did we get here? We absolutely need to get tougher on crime. But to focus solely on ever more police and stronger sentencing is to miss the point. Crime is a lagging indicator of deeper malaise in our society. For decades now we have undermined the very concept of right and wrong. In particular we have trashed the values that make for strong family life. The institution of traditional marriage has been mocked, marginalised and redefined to mean nothing. A culture of casualised relationships has replaced it, fully endorsed and celebrated by our supposed cultural gatekeepers in academia, politics and the media.

But it is a culture of delusion. Because it is a mum and dad, committed to each other for life, which fosters secure families and raises responsible citizens. Mum’s latest boyfriend doesn’t cut it. In a very real sense what we have sown in the bedroom, we are now reaping in the streets.

Of course not every married two parent family endures and raises well adjusted children. And not every broken home produces delinquent children. But the evidence on the significantly different outcomes achieved by different family structures is now very clear. It has been for a long time. If we want to address lawlessness in New Zealand it’s time we faced it.

Ewen McQueen
July 2023