Stop Fighting About Michelin. Start Asking When We'll Solve The Real Problem.

New Zealand’s food criticism is too cosy, our hospitality strategy is siloed, food security is ignored and our outrage is misdirected. The Michelin debate just made it impossible to ignore.

Six million dollars to bring the Michelin Guide to New Zealand, and the country has collectively lost its mind. The good news is that this time, everyone arguing is a little bit right.

But here’s my favourite detail: Tourism New Zealand spent $6.3 million to secure Michelin, then immediately had to budget for crisis PR management because - plot twist - nobody could agree if it was brilliant or catastrophic.

“Michelin Guide partnership: $6.3m. Explaining why we did it: TBC.”

The outrage merchants are in full throat: “Moral bankruptcy!” “What about Cuisine?” “People are hungry!” “Australia said no!” Meanwhile, I can tell you - having spent over three years with Tourism New Zealand - pitching food and wine activity every step of the way based on what travellers told us they actually wanted to know: the real scandal isn’t the $6.3 million.

It’s that we’re showcasing our disconnected, binary understanding of food and tourism, two of our biggest exports and industries.

The Problem Nobody’s Naming

Here’s what the Michelin hysteria is really exposing: New Zealand has no government agency responsible for food as a complete system.

Think about it:

• Tourism NZ promotes food to international visitors ✓

• Ministry of Primary Industries manages biosecurity and primary production ✓

• Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment oversees hospitality sector compliance ✓

• Ministry of Health issues nutrition guidelines ✓

• Ministry of Education manages education pathways and qualifications ✓

But nobody owns the connective tissue. Nobody links:

• Tourism promotion → hospitality careers pipeline

• Export produce quality → economic growth and employment

• Primary production → nutrition literacy → domestic food security

• Food criticism standards → restaurant culture → international reputation

We have excellence in silos. We have no food strategy.

And that’s why when Michelin arrives, everyone loses their minds. Critics aren’t really angry about $6 million. They’re angry about everything they wish existed but doesn’t: food security and nutrition access, food literacy, value over volume in production, local supply resilience, proper support for local food media, clear career pathways for young chefs, consistent quality standards, professional food discourse, someone - anyone - thinking about food holistically.

So they project all of it onto a Tourism New Zealand tourism marketing initiative.

Of course a $6.3 million tourism programme can’t deliver comprehensive food policy, media support, hospitality training, and social services.

It shouldn’t have to.

But the fact that everyone expects it to? That’s where the real gap lives.

Why Everyone’s Projecting Their Wish List Onto Michelin

Watch how the criticism splinters:

The Taxpayers Union sees it as wasteful spending during a cost-of-living crisis. What they’re really saying: “Why isn’t there better prioritisation of social spending?”

The Spinoff’s Nick Iles wants that money supporting Cuisine magazine instead. What he’s really saying: “Why isn’t there support for local food media?”

Chef Al Brown warns about toxic kitchen culture and suicide risk. What he’s really saying: “Why don’t we have better mental health support and professional standards in hospitality?”

Regional operators and commentators are furious only four cities are covered. What they’re really saying: “Why isn’t there comprehensive infrastructure and promotion for food tourism nationwide?”

Newstalk ZB’s John MacDonald compares it to Lifeline’s funding gap. What he’s really saying: “Why aren’t social services properly funded?”

All valid concerns. None of them are Tourism New Zealand’s job to fix.

But because there’s no one agency responsible for the big picture - no one connecting tourism to hospitality to food security to cultural infrastructure - everyone’s legitimate frustrations get funnelled into attacking whatever food-related initiative happens to make headlines.

Michelin just had the misfortune of being that initiative.

So Let’s Talk About That $6 Million

Now that we understand what’s really happening, let’s address the money.

Tourism New Zealand has one mandate: promote New Zealand as a destination to high-value international visitors. Not feed hungry people. Not fund crisis helplines. Not support domestic media. Promote tourism.

The $6.3 million comes partially from the International Visitor Levy - collected FROM tourists FOR tourism infrastructure - plus TNZ baseline funding. It literally cannot be redirected to Lifeline or food banks. That’s not how government funding works. And yes, TNZ had a mandate change during Covid, but now their job is to get the numbers back up (still 13% away) and they need to be the right tourists.

Comparing tourism spend to social services is like demanding the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra solve homelessness. Worthy cause, wrong agency, different budget line.

The question isn’t “should we spend this on restaurants instead of people?” It’s “is Tourism New Zealand effectively executing its actual mandate?”

On that measure? They nailed it.

The Scale Nobody’s Grasping

Let’s get some perspective on what New Zealand actually spends money on.

Since 2010, we’ve given nearly $1 billion in subsidies to international film productions. The scheme pays out around $200 million annually. Amazon’s Lord of the Rings series alone cost taxpayers $160 million for the first season - before relocating to the UK.

The Peter Jackson LOTR trilogy? We subsidised it $150 million. The return? An estimated $620 million in tourism revenue between 2001 and 2021.

In April 2025, Tourism New Zealand spent $13.5 million on an Australia campaign. Earlier, they dropped $500,000 on the “Everyone Must Go” slogan that got mocked mercilessly but apparently worked.

This Michelin investment represents less than 2% of Tourism New Zealand’s $130 million annual budget.

If we can spend $160 million helping Amazon film hobbits, we can spend $6 million helping our outstanding food experiences become top of the must-do list with elite food travellers.

The Australia Comparison That Makes Us Look Smart

“Australia declined Michelin, so we should have too!”

Let’s examine this brilliant logic (insert eyeroll).

Australia was quoted $40 million over five years. We’re paying $6.3 million over three. Australia has 26 million people. We have 5 million. Australia already has World’s 50 Best representation, established fine dining tourism infrastructure, and multiple domestic food guides with genuine international reach.

We are not Australia. Different scale, different food media landscape, different value proposition. Australia is over 15 years deep into a highly effective food and drink tourism strategy - hello South Australia, hello Melbourne? You know the reputation of those destinations and there’s a reason. Australia has already been spreading the food and drink word—New Zealand needs Michelin to help us get the job started. Because every critic of the Michelin package has already been outspoken that we don’t do enough to spread the good word.

If anything, we negotiated Michelin at a bargain price while Australia’s Tourism board looked at their quote and thought “probably not worth it at that cost.”

We got in cheaper. That’s not us being stupid. That’s strategic.

Understanding Tourism Math

“Only 36,000 extra visitors? That’s $175 per visitor!”

This reveals a spectacular misunderstanding of how tourism economics work - which, having spent years in tourism marketing strategy, I find both amusing and depressing.

Those 36,000 visitors don’t materialise at Auckland Airport and immediately vanish. They stay in hotels (multiple nights). They eat at restaurants (multiple meals). They drink wine (hopefully lots). They visit regions. They shop. They return. In fact, all of Tourism New Zealand’s other projects support stay longer and do more. So like compounding interest, no one comes this far to go to a single city. And you can’t help but travel through the regions as you get to our other must-do experiences. Stay longer: spend more.

Tourism New Zealand’s own research - including datasets I worked on - shows 87% of people actively considering New Zealand cite “trying local cuisine” as their number one interest.

Once visitors are here, they MUST spend on food and drink. That’s not optional tourist behaviour - that’s survival meeting destination experience.

More critically, Michelin creates what economists call a “quality signal.” It’s not just about the tiny percentage who specifically hunt Michelin stars. It’s about positioning New Zealand as a serious culinary destination in the minds of millions who’ll never eat at a starred restaurant but whose decision-making is influenced by that reputation.

Chef Peter Gordon, who’s run restaurants across London, Auckland, New York, Istanbul and Wellington, gets it: “If you end up in the guide, it’s going to guarantee tourism visitors will come to you that maybe wouldn’t have heard of you before.”

Michelin International Director Gwendal Poullennec noted that internationally, 82% of restaurants in the guide report increased profits - not from raising prices, but from increased customers who spend more on wine and return visits.

The ripple effect compounds. That’s not $175 per visitor. That’s $175 into an economic multiplier that flows through accommodation, transport, retail, regional tourism, and repeat visitation.

The Cuisine Conflict That Reveals the Gap

Yes, New Zealand has Cuisine magazine’s Good Food Guide. Editor Kelli Brett and her team work hard. The industry respects them. They awarded hats to over 100 restaurants this year.

The Spinoff’s Nick Iles suggested we should have spent “just a fraction of that $6m” working with Cuisine instead.

This perfectly illustrates the systems gap I’m talking about.

Cuisine is a privately owned commercial business. It’s responsible for making its own Good Food Guide commercially viable. The government doesn’t subsidise Metro magazine or the Herald’s restaurant reviews. Why would it subsidise Cuisine?

Because people think it should. Because there’s no clear understanding of what’s government’s job versus what’s commercial media’s job versus what’s industry’s job when it comes to food culture.

Tourism New Zealand’s mandate is international tourism promotion, not domestic media support. Cuisine can’t drive travellers from Shanghai or Chicago the way Michelin can. Its reach is primarily domestic - which is exactly what it should be.

Michelin’s 125-year global brand recognition is precisely what TNZ is buying. And it’s only available by partnering with Michelin, not by artificially inflating a local publication’s international profile with government cash.

Both can thrive. Both should thrive. But in different lanes, serving different purposes, funded by different models.

The confusion about this? That’s the gap talking.

The Real Opportunity Hidden in the Noise (And Why It Scares People)

Now we get to the genuinely exciting bit that everyone’s missing while they’re screaming about budget lines.

Michelin’s arrival forces New Zealand to confront something uncomfortable: our food criticism isn’t anonymous, isn’t formally trained to a unifying standard, and operates with zero degrees of separation.

Chef Al Brown’s concerns about Michelin’s “dark side” are valid. He told RNZ: “Chefs have taken their lives over Michelin Stars... if we’re living and dying by a star system, I don’t think that’s healthy at all.”

He’s absolutely right about the toxicity risk. But some of the fear and angst about Michelin isn’t just about pressure - it’s about the unknown. About a higher standard. About actual anonymity.

Because here’s what we actually have: Kerry Tyack, Kelli Brett, Lauraine Jacobs - some of the most recognisable faces in New Zealand dining rooms. Brilliant food writers, absolutely. But everyone knows exactly who they are the moment they walk through the door.

When Jesse Mulligan, the Herald’s influential dining-out editor, wrote a truly scathing review of The Grill, he later went back by invitation to assess what had changed. And scatching is a stretch, he was kind in trying to understand if it was meant to be that way! Good, thorough work. But zero degrees of separation. The restaurant knew he was coming. They knew who he was. They could prepare.

Michelin is the opposite. Anonymous inspectors with rigorous training, consistent methodology, and standards calibrated across 40 countries. Restaurants can’t prepare. Can’t butter up the critic. Can’t offer the special table or the off-menu tasting.

That’s terrifying if you’re used to the cosy intimacy of New Zealand’s small dining scene. But it’s also exactly what professional food criticism looks like. A constructive partnership between the critic and the kitchen.

The solution isn’t to claim “no one else can understand our food” because they’re uncomfortable. Too late, the assessors have already been here. It’s to level up our own discourse while Michelin does its job. To professionalise food writing. To develop formal training. To build genuine critical infrastructure.

That’s the opportunity. And it’s worth far more than $6.3 million.

Only Four Cities? That’s Actually Strategic

Regional exclusion complaints are predictable. Craggy Range in Hawke’s Bay - one of only six restaurants with three hats - isn’t eligible because it falls outside Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch, and Queenstown.

Frustrating for them? Absolutely. Fatal to the programme? No.

Michelin is making a targeted bet on New Zealand’s primary tourist centres. If the inaugural guide succeeds, expansion becomes possible. If TNZ had tried to cover the whole country in year one, $6.3 million would be spread too thin to make meaningful impact anywhere.

Better to do four cities brilliantly than ten cities badly.

And let’s be pragmatic: regional restaurants have been building international reputations without Michelin for years. Craggy Range doesn’t need a star to be excellent. But four major cities landing decisively on the global culinary map? That raises the profile of every food and wine region in New Zealand.

A rising tide lifts all boats. Even the boats not directly in the harbour.

PS why is no one screaming about the lack of drinks representation in Michelin judging criteria?

The Silence That Speaks Volumes

You know what’s fascinating? The relative quiet from some of our most established food voices.

Jesse Mulligan has been (so far) notably silent on the Michelin announcement. Perhaps that’s wisdom - staying above the fray while everyone else loses their minds. And Kelli Brett has been collegial and supportive, acknowledging it’s validation of Cuisine’s domestic efforts. Or perhaps it’s because people closest to the actual work of food criticism understand how complex this conversation really is, how many competing interests are at play, and how little anyone seem capable of nuance right now.

Meanwhile, the loudest voices are often those furthest from the kitchen, the business case, and the actual work of building food culture.

That tells you everything.

What We Actually Need (And Won’t Get From Michelin)

Let me be crystal clear: Michelin won’t solve our problems.

Not every restaurant will get a star. Most won’t be reviewed. Some cities won’t be covered. Excellent chefs will be overlooked. The guide will make mistakes. It will probably misread New Zealand’s casual dining culture. It will take years to calibrate properly.

All true. None of it changes what matters.

What we actually need - what this entire hysterical debate proves we desperately need - is someone whose job it is to think about food holistically. To connect:

• How we grow food → how we eat food → how we export food

• How we train chefs → how we review restaurants → how we promote culinary tourism

• How we support food security → how we celebrate food culture → how we build food literacy

• How we develop hospitality careers → how we retain talent → how we professionalise the industry

That’s a food strategy. A proper one. With budget, mandate, and accountability.

We don’t have it. We’ve never had it. And we’re not getting it anytime soon while our loudest voices are distracted by the wrong debate.

So when Michelin arrives - a narrow, specific, tourism-focused initiative doing exactly what it’s designed to do - everyone projects their wish list onto it and screams when it can’t deliver everything from social services to domestic media support to mental health care.

The Real Scandal

As Restaurant Association chief executive Marisa Bidois said: “This is an incredible moment for our sector, and one that will inspire many operators to continue lifting the bar for hospitality in New Zealand.”

That’s it. That’s the entire point. Not perfection. Not salvation. Inspiration and aspiration within a very specific mandate.

If Michelin’s arrival forces a national conversation about how we value, discuss, and systematically support food culture - from paddock to plate to criticism to tourism - then $6.3 million will prove to be the bargain of the decade.

The critics are right that we have problems. They’re just wrong about which ones matter.

The real scandal isn’t that Tourism New Zealand spent $6 million on Michelin.

It’s that we’re a country of 5 million people with world-class produce, talented chefs, and passionate food lovers - and we still don’t have anyone whose job it is to connect all the dots.

That’s the gap Michelin exposed. And no amount of screaming about budget lines will fill it.