'What does a politician look like?’  It’s a question Jacinda Ardern often posed to students during school visits – and one she explores more deeply in her memoir, A Different Kind of Power. Ardern first challenged conventional notions of leadership when she became only the second person in the world to give birth while leading a country. Now, hoping to inspire a new kind of leader, she takes us behind the scenes of her uncommon life. 

For more than half the book, Ardern regales us with little-known stories from the first 37 years of her life – before she became Prime Minister. Many anecdotes are chosen strategically to illuminate how and why she rose to power and aspired to govern with kindness. Some of these early experiences turn out to have unexpected echoes later in her story. 

As a young child living in Murupara, she witnesses poverty, gang violence, and her mother’s breakdown. There are positive childhood memories too, like her father’s mana-upholding approach to policing. Studying old photographs, she notices things she was oblivious to as a child – 'like the gang signals that some of the children are making, and that the only Pākehā faces in that trailer are mine and Louise’s [sister].'  As she vividly brings these formative years to life, we see the genesis of her ideology. 'I became political because I lived in Murupara,' she says. 

At Morrinsville College, we glimpse the influence that history teacher Mr Fountain will go on to have – likewise her years on the debating team. Time and time again, events from Ardern’s early life foreshadow her future in politics. As a young Mormon, she goes door-knocking; years later, she’s cold-calling for the Labour Party. In one poignant moment, she pretends she hasn’t really been moved to tears when a teacher plays the Cat Stevens classic Peace Train. But she lets her tears stream freely, nearly 30 years later, when Yusuf/Cat Stevens performs the song live in Christchurch following the March 15 mosque attacks. 

By now, Ardern has become a global icon of empathetic leadership. And she’s realised any self-doubt she had was unfounded. In writing her story, she hopes to demonstrate why her emotional, sensitive nature turned out to be a strength rather than a weakness. She wants to encourage others to stop doubting themselves. Accordingly, she dedicates the book: To the criers, worriers, and huggers. Near the end, addressing those who may be sensitive, anxious or suffer from imposter syndrome, she writes: 'The things you thought would cripple you will in fact make you stronger, make you better. They will give you a different kind of power, and make you a leader that this world, with all its turmoil, might just need.'

Although Ardern redefined what leadership could look like, she didn’t always question the unconscious bias tied to traditional leadership. Certainly not when she began working in earnest at the Beehive straight after university, driven to make a difference. We learn more about her first role in the office of Phil Goff, and later Helen Clark where she shares a cramped space with a young Grant Robertson. In the often-humorous pages, one of Ardern’s laugh-out-loud yarns stems from her first interaction with Helen Clark. Wrapping up the meeting, Clark says to Ardern: ‘How do you say the name again?’ Clark is referring to the public servant they’d just been discussing. Ardern misunderstands and replies: ‘JA-CIN-DA AR-DERN.’

After three years at the Beehive, Ardern figures she isn’t suited to the cut and thrust of the political world and heads overseas. She explains: '…while Helen Clark had shown me that it was possible to be a woman in politics, no one had shown me that you could be sensitive and survive.'

But Labour, and perhaps fate, have other ideas, convincing her to run for parliament. 'Maybe you say no more than once,' she writes. 'You can say no as many times as you want. Sometimes it happens anyway. At least that’s how it happened for me.' Ardern occasionally uses second-person point of view to great effect. As someone able to communicate with flair, clarity and wit, it’s no surprise that she can write well, too.

She spends nine years in opposition, acquiring political know-how for the job that lies ahead. In learning more about her work as a dedicated MP, her ascension seems somewhat less surprising. Yet there is serendipity in her extraordinary rise to power. And symmetry, too. Ardern loves symmetry. We see it in the many full circle moments she chronicles – and creates. 

Enroute to being sworn in as Prime Minister in 2017, she takes a call from John Campbell. Fast forward five years, on the way to officially resign, she leaves a message on Campbell’s phone: 'It felt like nice symmetry to send you a little message,' she tells him. 'Because of course I was talking to you on the way to become prime minister… I think you’d asked me what I wanted to be remembered by, and… I said I wanted to be remembered for kindness... I hope that turned out to be true.'

In reflecting on her five years as Prime Minister, Ardern provides thought-provoking insights into how she squared pregnancy, birth and motherhood with the expectations of prime ministership. It’s a singular part of her life story, and an important one to have shared. We see the way she navigates secret scans, morning sickness, Zika virus prevention, post-partum recovery, breastfeeding, pumping, sleep deprivation, mother guilt, parenting logistics, and more. It’s hard not to marvel – but she wants us to know it was all only possible because of the people in her ‘village’. 

The Covid years occupy only a small fraction of the book. Perhaps she read the room and recognises many aren’t eager to revisit the tumultuous time. Perhaps she’s not keen to dwell on it either. Turning the book’s final page is reminiscent of watching an in-depth interview with Ardern. By the end, we know she is undoubtedly an expert communicator, artfully covering her talking points and more. Yet – even though she shares generously and with surprising candour at times – somehow we haven’t managed to get all the answers to our questions. 

Ultimately, however, Ardern has proven there are new and modern answers to the question: What does a leader look like?