If there is one constant in Grant Robertson’s life, it’s that anything can happen – and frequently does. The former Deputy Prime Minister’s aptly-named memoir, Anything Could Happen, borrows its title from a song by The Clean – a New Zealand band that helped define the Dunedin Sound. Appropriate, too, because Ōtepoti Dunedin is Robertson’s 'place to stand', the town where he spent his formative years and forged a love of music, sport and politics.

Robertson steps us through his life in chronological order, the opening chapters providing clues to the life less ordinary he goes on to live. Having grown into his adult body early – 'At 15 I looked pretty much the same as I do now' – the big, bespectacled teen is often perceived as ready for responsibility. He admits to feeling 'very adult' when he is able to acquire large quantities of alcohol for his fifth form friends without being asked for ID. Elected Head Boy at Kings High School, and later President of the Otago University Students’ Association, Robertson seizes leadership opportunities with both hands and uncovers a passion for being able to make a difference.

His gumption from a young age is striking. When his high school teacher encourages him to try public speaking, a captivating orator is born. 'When I got up to talk, my terror disappeared and I found my voice,' he writes. 'I made people laugh and they seemed to listen. I never looked back on that account.'

The youngest of three high-achieving boys, Robertson introduces us to his loving but complex family. During his Uni years, he is the family member left to regularly visit his father who, shockingly, has gone to prison for stealing from his employer. The character-building experience shapes Robertson, and we glimpse the loyalty he will go on to be known for.

As Robertson’s storied career evolves – from his stint as a diplomat in New York to opposition MP to Minister of Finance – the chapters read, at times, like an after-dinner speech. He races from anecdote to anecdote, sometimes light on the sort of evocative detail you might expect in a book, wrapping up each tale with a one-liner.

What gently emerges from his many yarns is who Grant Robertson really is and exactly why he ascended to the second highest office in the land. We see his collaborative people skills in action. Selflessness, resourcefulness, intellect and a ready humour hover between the lines. Quite simply, he seems like an ideal person to have on hand in any situation – an indispensable second in command as it turns out.

After the weighty machinations of Robertson’s nine years in opposition, readers are rewarded as the second half of the book becomes more of a page-turner. Now we get a front row seat to the eventful years of the Ardern government – starting with the backstory of Andrew Little’s decision to step down in the lead-up to the 2017 election. Through Robertson’s eyes, we glimpse the internal party turmoil as Little vacillates about whether to remain as leader. Little has long been lauded for resigning when he did. But it turns out Robertson, too, made a selfless decision at the time, putting aside his ambitions to be deputy and nominating a 'shell-shocked' Kelvin Davis – following the counsel of Annette King.

Robertson’s favourite Ruth Bader Ginsburg quote – 'Fight for the things you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you' – seems emblematic of his political style. Quick to recover when things don’t go his way, and ever the diplomat, it’s rare to find harsh criticism in the telling of his story. In fact, Robertson typically finds something positive to say about most people – describing Todd Muller as 'a decent man', Nikki Kaye as 'hyperintelligent' and Simon Bridges as someone he 'always quite liked'. Winston Peters is a rare exception, critiqued at various times throughout the book. Towards the end of Labour’s coalition with New Zealand First, Robertson says the relationship between the two parties was at breaking point. '… on every issue he [Winston] fought and scrapped and shifted and changed his position. We were over it.'

Initially unsure about writing a memoir, Robertson says he decided to tell his story before the narrative of his time in politics was set in concrete.  'I wanted to write about what happened and, perhaps more importantly, how it felt,' he says. While readily admitting the Labour government didn’t always get everything right, Robertson points out that they would’ve acted differently if they could have predicted the future. 'I used to joke that one thing that Covid had spurred was a new branch of economics called Hindsight Economics,' he quips. On balance, the lives and livelihoods saved are clearly a source of enduring pride.

Political junkies will appreciate the sheer range of topics Robertson traverses – from tax policy controversies to the development of Wellbeing and Covid Recovery Budgets to his work championing women’s sport including the behind-the-scenes negotiations that resulted in three Women’s World Cups being hosted in New Zealand, and so much more.

Some of the most fascinating and personal insights in the book come with the turmoil Robertson experiences while Ardern is contemplating resigning. The then Deputy Prime Minister wrestles with the decision of whether to take on the top job, but an untimely series of physical and psychological challenges ultimately nudge him to decide otherwise. The final chapter is a harrowing read and exposes the true toll of governing through Covid and its aftermath.

In his current role as Vice-Chancellor of the University of Otago, Robertson describes himself as a 'recovering politician' who has found new ways to support others and illuminate the possibilities. 'To help grow the confidence of the next generation,' he writes.

'To tell them that anything could happen, and it probably will…'

Reviewed by Angela Walker