People often say that power corrupts and to this I disagree. Power does not corrupt a person, it merely exposes what lies in all our hearts, and simply gives it room, opportunity and permission, writes Thomas Tarurongo Wynne.

When that life is public, like a public official or a Prime Minister or leader, there is little place for it to hide because in the course of time, as we have seen with politicians, actors, and media moguls, their lives spill out and in today’s world it is global, public, scrutinised, algorithmised and laid bare for us all to see and judge.

For any of us that have had the privilege of working with people in public office, often, we are confronted with the complexities and contradictions of their lives, their inner lives as we see what the public does not, or what the public have simply decided to speak of only in silent whispers around their kitchen tables.

Within their heart for service, capacity, skill, vision and hope for our countries, lies a broken humanity, that in the course of time and service can become despotic, power hungry and self-serving. Be it leaders of our financial institutions, politics, land or the legal fraternity, what should be clear is as leaders, we all can drink from this same poisoned chalice and fall from a tree of great height.

And when the tree was shaken look who fell out – men who have been quick to put pen to paper and comment on some of the questions I have posed these last few weeks, and in rapid defense of privileged men like Sir Gaven Donne. Though these same men have been silent on the many social questions I have posed over the years writing for this paper – not a pen lifted, anger riled, letter or comment can I find.

Questions raised on the plight of the poor or elderly, silence, the treatment of those in our jails, silence, the constant stream of the sexual abused, silence, the challenges for our youth and mapu, silence, our financial institutions, silence, or simply the acculturation of our culture and a tourism run by others, that some of them have greatly benefited from, silence.

That’s the problem with being “Johnny on the spot” as opposed to “Johnny come lately”. Being Johnny come lately, you get the longitudinal view of time, history and information, rather than the view of those at the time caught in those “Johnny on the spot” moments. Time is a good judge as it gives us time to evaluate, ponder, question and look again at ourselves and our history – but this should never be shunned or silenced by anyone, let alone those who had a critical role to play in it, benefit from it and control its narrative.

Leaders are complex, often men, and should be judged by their peers, yes, but history also has a role to play in how we see them and how we judge them. The pardon of Albert Henry sends a clear signal that this long overdue moment has finally arrived for us as a country. It allows us to look forward, not back, at what happened, while acknowledging the calls for this action from across the political spectrum.

One thing I have learned in the politics of the Cook Islands and in New Zealand, when the narrative doesn’t make sense, it is because it doesn’t. The pardon of Albert Henry is fitting, but clearly not in the minds of some. But if we were to judge these same men and their lives while in service to our country, how would they fare by that same ruler and measure, and what would that book be called I wonder?

So, my question remains, do we judge a man, or a leader by the last few years of their lives, or by the total sum of their service. The pardon of Albert Henry signifies a shift from a single chapter in his life to the entirety of his legacy. It marks a new chapter in the ongoing narrative of our nation, a narrative that evolves with each passing moment. Now, we write this chapter with our own pen and on our own paper.