In “A Different Kind of Power,” Jacinda Ardern achieves something remarkable: she transforms the often sterile genre of political memoir into an intimate journey through vulnerability, resilience, and the complex realities of leadership in turbulent times. This is not merely another politician’s attempt at legacy-crafting, but rather a deeply human exploration of how an ordinary person from small-town New Zealand found herself navigating extraordinary global challenges while maintaining her essential humanity.
Written with the collaborative assistance of Ali Benjamin, this memoir stands as Ardern’s first and likely only book-length work, making it a singular document of one of the most consequential political figures of the early 21st century. The timing of its publication, following her unexpected resignation as Prime Minister in January 2023, lends additional weight to her reflections on power, leadership, and the personal costs of public service.
The Foundation of Character: Small-Town Roots and Formative Experiences
Ardern’s narrative begins not with political awakening but with the mundane yet profound details of childhood in Murupara, a struggling forestry town where her father served as police sergeant. These early chapters reveal the memoir’s greatest strength: Ardern’s ability to find universal truths in specific experiences. The image of four-year-old Jacinda, prone to car sickness in the back of the family’s beige Toyota Corona, clutching her teddy bear while moving to a town where her father would be both protector and target of community suspicion, establishes the central tension that would define her life.
The author’s description of Murupara during the economic upheaval of the 1980s provides crucial context for understanding her later political philosophy. When she writes about her father’s belief that “the police can’t arrest their way out of everything,” we glimpse the empathetic approach to problem-solving that would later characterize her leadership style. Her Mormon upbringing, handled with nuanced honesty, reveals the complex relationship between childhood faith and adult political conviction—a tension that adds depth to her character rather than defining her limitations.
These formative chapters demonstrate Ardern’s storytelling prowess. She writes with the practiced eye of someone who understands that personal narrative must serve larger purposes. When describing the family’s move from the cramped police house to their larger home in Morrinsville, she captures the particular vulnerability of childhood while simultaneously exploring themes of belonging, identity, and social mobility that would resonate throughout her political career.
The Evolution of Political Consciousness
The memoir’s middle sections trace Ardern’s political awakening with remarkable candor about both her ambitions and insecurities. Her description of volunteering for Helen Clark’s campaign while grappling with self-doubt provides insight into the psychological foundations of political ambition. The anecdote about confronting hecklers at a university rally—culminating in her memorable retort “You kiss your mothers with those mouths?”—reveals both her fierce protective instincts and her struggle with the “thin skin” that her father warned would prevent her from succeeding in politics.
Ardern’s portrayal of her early parliamentary years offers valuable insights into the machinery of modern democratic governance. Her detailed account of working in Helen Clark’s office, particularly her intimidating encounters with chief of staff Heather Simpson, humanizes the often opaque world of political operations. These scenes work because Ardern refuses to position herself as inevitably destined for greatness; instead, she presents herself as competent but uncertain, passionate but inexperienced.
The author’s discussion of fertility struggles while pursuing political advancement adds another layer of complexity to her narrative. Her handling of journalist Jesse Mulligan’s question about having children—and her subsequent confrontation with sports commentator Mark Richardson’s inappropriate remarks about employers’ rights to know women’s reproductive plans—illuminates the unique challenges facing women in public life with both anger and analytical precision.
Crisis Leadership: The Defining Moments
The memoir’s most powerful sections deal with the crises that defined Ardern’s tenure as Prime Minister. Her account of the Christchurch mosque shooting stands as the book’s emotional centerpiece, demonstrating both her genuine anguish and her capacity for decisive action. The detail about consulting with Armed Offenders Squad members about appropriate magazine capacity for hunting weapons—leading to New Zealand’s gun reform passing with near-unanimous support in just ten days—illustrates her pragmatic approach to policy-making under pressure.
Ardern’s COVID-19 chapters avoid the trap of either self-congratulation or excessive defensiveness. Instead, she presents the pandemic response as a series of difficult decisions made with incomplete information, driven by the principle that “we have to.” Her description of the isolation required for effective decision-making during lockdowns—working late into the night with her small team while most of New Zealand slept—captures both the burden and the necessity of leadership during genuine emergencies.
What makes these crisis chapters particularly effective is Ardern’s refusal to present herself as prescient or naturally gifted at crisis management. Instead, she emphasizes the collective effort required for effective governance, consistently crediting advisors, ministers, and civil servants. This humility strengthens rather than weakens her narrative authority, suggesting a leader secure enough in her achievements to acknowledge their collaborative nature.
The Personal-Political Balance: Motherhood and Leadership
Perhaps the memoir’s most innovative contribution to political literature is its unflinching examination of combining motherhood with high-level political leadership. Ardern’s account of becoming pregnant while serving as Prime Minister breaks new ground in political memoir writing, offering unprecedented insight into the practical and emotional challenges of this unique situation.
The scene of Ardern attempting to bake Neve’s birthday cake from the Australian Women’s Weekly Children’s Birthday Cake Book while managing prime ministerial duties serves as a perfect metaphor for the impossible standards she set for herself. Her admission that “no one had asked me to make a cake” but that she felt compelled to meet a “bare minimum set of ‘Mum’ things” reveals the internal pressure that accompanies breaking barriers as a woman leader.
Her description of Neve’s first word being “Dadda” rather than “Mumma,” and her subsequent joy when Neve finally says “Mumma” while Ardern was present, captures the particular guilt and triumph of working mothers with devastating honesty. These moments work because they transcend politics entirely, speaking to universal experiences of parenthood while simultaneously illustrating the unique pressures facing women in positions of extraordinary responsibility.
Writing Style and Narrative Structure
Ardern’s prose demonstrates the influence of her speechwriting background—clear, direct, and emotionally intelligent without being manipulative. She employs a conversational tone that makes complex political concepts accessible while maintaining the gravitas appropriate to serious subject matter. Her use of specific, concrete details—from the Crown Lynn dinnerware her mother reserved for special occasions to the exact sequence of phone calls during the Christchurch crisis—grounds abstract concepts in lived experience.
The memoir’s structure, moving chronologically from childhood through resignation, allows readers to understand the development of Ardern’s worldview and leadership style. The circular narrative technique, opening and closing with moments of departure and new beginnings, provides satisfying symmetry while emphasizing themes of growth and change.
One particularly effective narrative choice is Ardern’s decision to include dialogue extensively throughout “A Different Kind of Power”. Rather than relying solely on retrospective analysis, she recreates conversations that illuminate character and motivation. Her phone call with Imam Gamal Fouda after the Christchurch shooting—where she simply repeats “I am so, so sorry” until she’s certain he’s heard her—demonstrates the power of presence and witness in leadership more effectively than any abstract discussion of empathy could achieve.
Critical Assessment: Strengths and Limitations
The memoir’s greatest strength lies in its successful integration of personal vulnerability with political analysis. Ardern manages to be self-critical without being self-deprecating, honest about her limitations without undermining her authority. Her decision to step down as Prime Minister—prompted by the realization that she no longer possessed the energy and enthusiasm required for effective leadership—demonstrates a rare form of political courage that validates her entire approach to governance.
However, the memoir occasionally suffers from a tendency toward diplomatic language that obscures more difficult truths. While Ardern is forthright about her personal struggles, she sometimes retreats into generalities when discussing political opponents or contentious policy decisions. The book would benefit from more specific analysis of strategic mistakes or miscalculations, beyond her admission that certain policies could have been better communicated.
“A Different Kind of Power” also reflects the limitations of the collaborative writing process with Ali Benjamin. While Benjamin’s influence helps maintain narrative coherence and emotional resonance, some passages feel slightly over-polished, lacking the rough edges that might have provided additional authenticity. The careful balance between accessibility and depth occasionally tips too far toward the former, leaving readers wanting more substantial policy analysis.
Global Context and Historical Significance
“A Different Kind of Power” gains additional significance when considered within the broader context of 21st-century political memoirs. Unlike the often self-serving narratives produced by many political figures, Ardern’s memoir genuinely grapples with the question of what effective leadership requires in an era of crisis and polarization. Her emphasis on empathy, collaboration, and the willingness to admit uncertainty offers a compelling alternative to traditional models of political authority.
The book’s international resonance reflects both Ardern’s global profile and the universal applicability of her leadership lessons. Her detailed account of building the Christchurch Call to Action—coordinating with world leaders to combat online extremism—demonstrates the possibility of effective international cooperation on complex problems. Similarly, her COVID-19 response provides a case study in science-based policy-making that transcends partisan considerations.
Ardern’s decision to step down while still popular and effective distinguishes her memoir from those written by leaders forced from office by scandal or electoral defeat. This voluntary relinquishment of power, motivated by self-awareness rather than external pressure, adds moral authority to her reflections on leadership and service.
Contemporary Relevance and Enduring Themes
In “A Different Kind of Power,” the exploration of disinformation, political polarization, and the personal costs of public service speaks directly to contemporary democratic challenges worldwide. Ardern’s account of facing increasingly aggressive confrontations from members of the public—including the bathroom incident where a woman yelled at her while she held her young daughter—illustrates the corrosive effects of political tribalism on basic social norms.
Her analysis of the changed political environment following COVID-19 restrictions provides valuable insight into the global rise of anti-establishment sentiment. Rather than dismissing criticism as illegitimate, Ardern acknowledges the genuine grievances while lamenting the erosion of constructive political discourse. This nuanced approach to opposition—distinguishing between legitimate policy disagreement and personal attacks—offers a model for political leaders navigating increasingly polarized environments.
The memoir’s treatment of work-life balance, particularly for women in demanding careers, extends far beyond politics. Ardern’s honest assessment of the toll that constant high-stakes decision-making takes on family relationships and personal well-being provides valuable perspective for anyone struggling to balance professional ambition with personal fulfillment.
Comparative Analysis: Similar Political Memoirs
When compared to other recent political memoirs, “A Different Kind of Power” stands out for its emotional intelligence and genuine introspection. While books like Hillary Clinton’s “What Happened” or Michelle Obama’s “Becoming” offer valuable perspectives on women’s experiences in political life, Ardern’s memoir provides a more comprehensive examination of the intersection between personal growth and political leadership.
The book shares thematic similarities with Jimmy Carter’s post-presidential writings in its emphasis on service and moral leadership, but Ardern’s more contemporary perspective on issues like social media, climate change, and global cooperation makes her insights more immediately applicable to current challenges. Her willingness to discuss mental health, fertility struggles, and the emotional toll of crisis leadership with unprecedented candor sets new standards for political memoir writing.
Final Verdict: A Memoir of Substance and Significance
“A Different Kind of Power” succeeds both as political history and personal narrative, offering readers genuine insight into the complexities of modern democratic leadership. Ardern’s combination of policy expertise, emotional intelligence, and storytelling ability creates a memoir that transcends typical genre limitations. While it occasionally sacrifices political analysis for personal reflection, this choice ultimately serves the book’s broader purpose of humanizing political leadership without diminishing its importance.
The memoir’s lasting value lies not in its revelation of previously unknown events—most of Ardern’s major decisions were extensively documented—but in its exploration of the internal experiences that shaped those decisions. By sharing her vulnerabilities, uncertainties, and moments of doubt alongside her triumphs, Ardern provides a more complete portrait of political leadership than most memoirs achieve.
For readers seeking to understand both the possibilities and limitations of empathetic leadership in challenging times, “A Different Kind of Power” offers essential insights. The book’s honest examination of the personal costs of public service, combined with its genuine optimism about the potential for positive change, makes it both a valuable historical document and an inspiring call to civic engagement.
Similar Books Worth Reading
For readers interested in exploring similar themes of women’s leadership, political memoir, and empathetic governance, consider these related works:
- “Becoming” by Michelle Obama – A masterful exploration of identity, public service, and the complexities of being a woman in the political spotlight
- “The Truths We Hold” by Kamala Harris – Insights into contemporary American politics and the experiences of women of color in political leadership
- “What Happened” by Hillary Clinton – A candid examination of the 2016 presidential campaign and the challenges facing women seeking executive power
- “Personal History” by Katharine Graham – The Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir of breaking barriers in media leadership
- “Lab Girl” by Hope Jahren – While not political, offers similar themes of resilience, scientific thinking, and balancing professional achievement with personal growth
