What road safety, smoking and political cycles can teach us about sustaining long-term behaviour change.

With the general election approaching, I've been thinking about how we make progress on some of New Zealand's biggest challenges when political direction can change every three years.

Having worked across infrastructure, communications and engagement, I've seen how much effort goes into getting people aligned around a common direction. There's the technical work, policy development, investment decisions and then the considerable challenge of helping people understand why something needs to change, particularly when that change affects their everyday lives.

That work takes time, and there's considerable momentum at risk when direction changes before we've had the opportunity to understand whether an approach was working.

Road safety and the long game

A few years ago, I worked on communications for Road to Zero, New Zealand's road safety strategy, which aimed to reduce deaths and serious injuries by 40% by 2030, alongside a longer-term vision of eliminating them altogether.

Part of that work involved using the Common Cause Values Map to explore how we could communicate about road safety in ways that connected with people's underlying values. We were looking at what might help people think differently about risk and responsibility, rather than relying on information alone and hoping it would change behaviour.

I remember feeling encouraged by early research suggesting our messaging was beginning to gain traction. Of course, changing how people think and behave is a long game, and we'd barely begun.

Then the government changed. Road to Zero was replaced with a different road safety framework, with greater emphasis on enforcement, driver behaviour and targeted safety investments. Speed management settings also changed, including reversals of some state highway speed limits.

There are legitimate differences of opinion about which interventions deliver the best results, and it's reasonable to question whether public investment is achieving what was intended. What interests me is how we account for the work already done to build understanding when the approach changes, and how we decide which elements are worth carrying forward.

Changing what we consider normal

Smoking is an example I keep coming back to when I think about how long behaviour change can take.

I remember going to pubs when I was at university and coming home with my hair and clothes absolutely reeking of cigarette smoke. It was so normal that we barely gave it a second thought, whereas my daughters have grown up in a world where sitting in a smoky restaurant or bar would seem extraordinary.

That shift took decades, with public health campaigns, legislation, pricing and changing social expectations reinforcing one another. Upstream policy decisions helped create the conditions for different behaviours, while downstream education and behaviour change efforts helped those changes become accepted.

There's a parallel with road safety, where we're asking people to reconsider established behaviours, including what they consider a reasonable speed on a particular road.

My youngest daughter is 17 and has her restricted licence. Recently she asked if she could drive herself from Hastings to a friend's farm about halfway to Wairoa, along a stretch of State Highway 2 I know reasonably well. There are narrow, winding sections, blind corners, plenty of trucks and limited mobile coverage, and she'd had a big week and was pretty tired.

I wasn't comfortable with her making that trip alone just yet, so we've agreed to do some practice runs together.

It reminded me that we can help people make good decisions, but humans will still make mistakes, which is why the environment around us matters. That's one of the foundations of the Safe System approach that underpinned Road to Zero.

Sweden adopted its Vision Zero road safety philosophy in 1997, and nearly 30 years later the overarching ambition remains, despite changes in government and debate about the interventions needed to achieve it.

Sweden hasn't eliminated road deaths, but the continuity of that underlying commitment is worth considering. The methods have evolved while the long-term outcome has remained.

The cost of changing direction

Resource management reform is another example, particularly for those of us working around infrastructure and planning.

Successive governments have pursued substantial changes to the RMA and wider planning system, with different approaches to balancing environmental protection, development and regulatory certainty.

Having worked alongside planners, engineers, councils and communities, I can appreciate why reform is needed. There are real costs to maintaining a system that isn't delivering, but there's also considerable work involved in changing it.

Councils develop processes and build capability, consultants and developers invest in understanding requirements, and communities participate in planning processes that will shape their futures. When the framework changes again, some of that work needs revisiting.

I'm not convinced we adequately account for implementation, particularly the time, capability and confidence that can be lost while everyone adjusts.

There's a trust dimension too. When we ask people to engage in a process and contribute their knowledge, we're asking them to believe their participation will have some enduring value.

Finding common ground

It's encouraging to see more discussion about cross-party approaches as we head towards the election. Te Waihanga's 30-year National Infrastructure Plan has attracted support across political lines, and there are proposals for similar long-term approaches to health and education.

Of course, agreeing that we need better infrastructure, coastal adaptation, consenting processes, healthcare or education is considerably easier than agreeing on how to fund and deliver it. But perhaps that's where the work needs to begin, by identifying the outcomes we're prepared to commit to over the long term, while keeping enough flexibility to change the approach as we learn what works.

Imagine what greater continuity could mean for organisations investing in their people, businesses making long-term decisions and communities wanting some certainty about what lies ahead.

And perhaps there's something to learn from the way communities continue to engage with these issues.

Hastings District Council's recent speed management proposals included changes responding to community concerns about school bus access, cycling and local road conditions. Whatever people's views on national speed policy, those requests demonstrate that communities continue to consider what safety means on the roads they use.

As it happens, submissions on Hastings District Council's proposed speed limit changes close at midday today (Friday 30 October), the same day this newsletter lands in your inbox. If you're interested in the proposals, there's still time to have your say.

That brings me back to smoking and the relationship between policy and behaviour. Public understanding can help build support for policy changes, while policy itself can reinforce new behaviours and expectations. Both need sustained attention if we're hoping to change deeply established habits.

Of course, continuity for its own sake isn't necessarily a good thing. Sometimes policies need to change because the evidence tells us they're not delivering, or because circumstances have changed. But some outcomes take decades to achieve, particularly when we're asking people and organisations to work differently.

As we head towards the election, I'd like to see more discussion about how we assess the changes we've already invested in, particularly those that require years of sustained effort across policy, organisations and communities. We need to be able to recognise when an approach isn't working and have the confidence to change it, but equally, we need to recognise when we're asking for results from something that hasn't had sufficient time to take hold.