The 2025 NBR Rich List once again shows who runs this country

The annual National Business Review Rich List dropped this morning like a glossy brochure for extreme wealth concentration. While the NBR frames its yearly celebration of the ultra-wealthy as recognising “wealth creators” who generate jobs and economic activity, a closer reading reveals something far more troubling: a roadmap of oligarchic power in New Zealand, complete with policy wishlists, political connections, and breathtaking displays of luxury that would make a Gilded Age robber baron blush. 

The Numbers tell a story of accelerating inequality 

Let’s start with the headline figures. The 119 individuals and families profiled are now collectively worth $102.1 billion – up from $95.55 billion last year. To put this in perspective, that’s more than 40% of the nation’s GDP concentrated in the hands of fewer than 120 families. New Zealand now has 18 billionaires, up from 16 last year, on this list alone. The rich are indeed getting richer, even as the rest of the country struggles through what many Rich Listers themselves acknowledge has been one of the toughest economic periods in memory.

For additional perspective, a decade ago the Rich List’s combined wealth was around $60 billion; as recently as 2023 it totalled $72.6 billion. In other words, the fortunes of the richest few have nearly doubled in a decade – a dramatic acceleration of wealth concentration. We are witnessing inequality grow towards heights approaching those of the early 20th century.

Atop the pyramid sit the Mowbray brothers with an eye-watering $20 billion fortune from their Zuru toys empire – a single family’s net worth greater than the entire annual budget of the Ministry of Health. One family. Twenty billion dollars. It’s a scale of wealth almost impossible to fathom in a country of 5 million.

The Sectors that rule: Property and perpetual rent-seeking

Scanning the list reveals the true engines of wealth accumulation in New Zealand, and they paint a damning picture of our economic priorities. Property development and investment dominate, with multiple fortunes built on what economists recognize as classic rent-seeking behaviour – extracting wealth through ownership and monopoly rather than through productive innovation or adding real value.

Take Viaduct Harbour Holdings, owned by the wealthy Gibbs, Wyborn, Farmer and Green families. Their business model? Lease out prime Auckland waterfront land and jack up the ground rents every seven years – some leaseholders recently saw rent hikes of 90% to 134% at review time. This is wealth extraction in its purest form – sitting on coveted real estate and watching the money roll in as Auckland’s housing crisis deepens. 

Other dynasties like the Gibbons, Gunton, Carter, and Wallace families have all built fortunes through property development, often leveraging their political connections to navigate (or even reshape) planning regulations to their benefit. The pattern is clear: in New Zealand, the surest path to extreme wealth is to position yourself as a gatekeeper to shelter – that most basic of human needs. The richer the landowners become, the more the rest of society pays – through exorbitant rents, unaffordable house prices, and lost opportunities to use land for public good.

The Oligarchs’ policy wishlist: A Blueprint for deepening inequality

This year’s Rich List theme, tellingly titled “Elevating NZ Inc,” invited the wealthy to share their vision for “improving” the country. Their responses read like a neoliberal fever dream – a wish-list of policies that just so happen to align with their own interests. In essence, the Rich List doubles as a lobbying memo from the ultra-rich to the rest of New Zealand. Key items on this agenda include:

• Make it easier for foreign billionaires to buy property: Multiple Rich Listers, including property magnates Peter Cooper and Chris Meehan, argue that restrictions on foreign property ownership should be lifted. Wealthy internationals would “invest” more in New Zealand, they claim, if only they could buy their way in. Cooper says he personally knows of a handful of foreign billionaires who regularly visit and “would love to migrate here, but can’t” due to the current ban. In other words, open the floodgates to global mega-wealth and trust that the benefits will trickle down. 
• Cut corporate taxes: Jeff Douglas of Douglas Pharmaceuticals wants the corporate tax rate slashed from the current 28% down into the mid-teens (he suggests as low as 12–15%). He points to countries with ultra-low company taxes and insists New Zealand must follow suit to “encourage business investment”. Because clearly, what struggling Kiwi families need right now is for profitable pharmaceutical companies to pay even less tax.
• Reduce regulation and red tape: The chorus of demands to strip away “bureaucracy” is deafening. Billionaire developer Mark Gunton hopes the new government will “take their foot off the throat” of business – blaming the previous Labour Government’s regulations for economic headwinds. Many Rich Listers rail against the Resource Management Act and other planning rules, seeking faster consents and fewer constraints. The subtext: let us develop and extract with minimal oversight. Deregulation, in their view, equals higher profits for them – even if it means weaker environmental protections or labour standards for everyone else. 
• More tax loopholes and incentives for the wealthy: Tech investor Hamish Edwards wants expanded tax breaks for research & development and other investments – essentially asking ordinary taxpayers to subsidize the business ventures and risks of the wealthy. Several Rich Listers similarly call for sweetheart tax treatments (beyond what already exists) to entice investment in their favoured industries. Notably, virtually none of them advocate for relief to low- or middle-income earners; the focus is on lightening the load for corporations and capital holders.

It’s striking that the sole dissenting voice on this wish-list is Rich Lister Phillip Mills of Les Mills fitness fame – an outlier among the wealthy in advocating for a capital gains tax. Mills argues New Zealand should finally tax capital gains to address rampant property speculation and inequality, even though such a tax would personally cost him. (More on Mills’ views later.) 

By and large, however, the ultra-rich want to maintain their privileged tax status and loosen any reins on their business empires. Their policy prescriptions, if enacted, would further tilt the playing field in favour of the millionaire and billionaire class – accelerating inequality and entrenching their economic dominance.

The Political money trail: Buying influence in an unregulated lobbying paradise 

Extreme wealth in New Zealand increasingly translates into political clout. Rich Listers don’t just sit around hoping governments will heed their wishlists – many actively deploy their wealth to make sure it happens. They employ multiple avenues of influence: lavish political donations, high-powered lobbying (often behind closed doors), personal networks and favours, and even direct involvement in policy-making. In a country with virtually no regulation of lobbying, those with money can easily hire lobbyists or cozy up to ministers without public scrutiny.

As one Rich Lister, plastics magnate Sir Brendan Lindsay, candidly put it, “It’s nice to be friendly with the Prime Minister.” He would know – Lindsay has been a generous donor to multiple parties, effectively buying face time with the nation’s leaders.

Similarly, Christopher Luxon's response to the Rich List publication today was telling. When asked about 18 billionaires in a cost-of-living crisis, he gushed: “Isn't it fantastic that we have got people with ambition, aspiration and positivity, and we should be celebrating success.”

The political donations scattered throughout the NBR Rich List profiles reveal the transactional nature of influence in New Zealand. It’s a who’s who of big-money backers greasing the wheels of our political system:

• Graeme Hart, New Zealand’s wealthiest man, has quietly funnelled $700,000 to right-wing parties in the past two years – including $400k to National, $200k to Act, and $100k to NZ First. Hart’s strategy of hedging bets across the political right ensures that whichever combination of those parties holds power, he’ll have their ear.
• Nick Mowbray (of Zuru) has given “hundreds of thousands” of dollars to both National and ACT, making sure both major coalition partners know he’s in their corner.
• Sir Brendan Lindsay donated $50,000 each to NZ First, National, and ACT in the 2023 election year, then followed up with another $138,000 to National in 2024. Few New Zealanders can afford to drop nearly a quarter-million on politicians in a two-year span – but for an ultra-rich donor, it’s the price of admission to the halls of power.
• Chris and Michaela Meehan (property developers) gave $50,000 to Act and $103,260 to National in 2023, another example of backing the winning team(s) on the right.
• Deyi “Stone” Shi, co-owner of Oravida, controversially donated over $80,000 to National between 2013 and 2017, amid a high-profile saga involving then-Minister Judith Collins. That case became a byword for perceived cronyism – a wealthy donor and family friend receiving ministerial access (a private dinner in Beijing, for example) that raised serious eyebrows.
• The Bayley family (of real estate empire Bayleys) and its companies have made multiple large donations to the National Party over the years, cementing their status as insiders whenever National is in government.
• Property mogul Philip Carter reportedly donated just under $60,000 to National in 2023, keeping him in the good graces of a party opposed to taxes on property wealth.
• The Vela family (wealthy racing and fishing magnates) have been notable backers of Winston Peters’ NZ First, donating large sums such as $100,000 in 2008 and $50,000 in 2023 to a party known for advocating policies favourable to their industries.
• The Berridge Spencer family donated $50,000 via lawyer to NZ First Foundation in 2017

Luxury beyond comprehension: A Parallel universe of wealth

While ordinary Kiwis struggle with the cost of living – mortgages, rents, grocery bills – the Rich List reveals a parallel universe of almost unimaginable luxury. It’s worth briefly peering into this world, if only to grasp how far removed the oligarchs’ lives are from the everyday New Zealander’s. A few snapshots from the list: 

• Private jets: Sir Peter Jackson owns a Gulfstream G650 jet worth an estimated $60 million. Graeme Hart reportedly upgraded to a top-of-the-line Gulfstream G650ER, and the Mowbray brothers have their own 2015 Gulfstream G650ER as well. Not to be outdone, rich-lister Deyi Shi (Oravida) and developer Graeme Murphy teamed up to buy a $7 million Airbus luxury helicopter for zipping around.
• Superyachts: Graeme Hart’s 102-metre superyacht Ulysses, completed in 2023, comes with accommodation for 20 guests, 30 crew, a swimming pool, four spa pools, and a helipad/hangar. This floating palace reportedly cost hundreds of millions to build and is an extravagant symbol of a fortune built largely from packaging and finance. Not many Kiwi families are pondering which helicopter to park on their private yacht – but such is life for our richest man.
• Palatial estates: The excess on land is just as staggering. Hart recently purchased a new 526-square-metre penthouse in New York for US$24.75 million, adding to his global property holdings. Closer to home, Peter Cooper’s mansion on Paritai Drive in Auckland is valued around $58 million, making it one of NZ’s priciest private homes. The Mowbrays famously bought the former Dotcom mansion in Coatesville for $32.5 million, and have since poured untold millions more into lavish renovations. Freight magnate Bruce Plested owns a Waiheke Island estate valued at ~$47 million, plus another property on the island (with five kilometers of private coastline) valued around $65 million. These are personal fiefdoms of land and luxury that underscore the gulf between the Rich Listers and everyone else.

Such details are not merely prurient trivia – they highlight the widening chasm in lived experience between the ultra-rich and average citizens. The worry is that those floating in private jets and ensconced on private islands may have little empathy or understanding for the struggles of people living paycheck to paycheck. And yet, these same billionaires and millionaires wield inordinate influence over our politics and economy. 

A Voice of dissent: Phillip Mills and the spectre of cronyism

In a remarkable departure from the usual Rich List rhetoric, Phillip Mills (of the Les Mills fitness empire) emerges as a dissenting voice among the wealthy. Rather than joining his peers in lobbying for lighter taxes and looser rules, Mills offers a warning that should give every New Zealander pause. He calls out the elephant in the room: cronyism creeping into our political economy.

Mills has publicly advocated for a capital gains tax, arguing it’s “crazy” that New Zealand continues to favour property speculation – “one asset class, financed by Australian banks” – without a CGT. It’s a policy that most Rich Listers abhor, but Mills supports it on principle, noting that the current settings create “a giant sucking sound of money out of our economy” and into bank profits overseas. He’s effectively acknowledging that the tax-free status of capital gains (especially on property) is hurting New Zealand’s productive economy and exacerbating inequality.

More broadly, Phillip Mills is sounding the alarm about crony capitalism. He fears New Zealand may be sliding toward a system where political power and economic power are tightly interwoven among a small elite – to the detriment of competition and long-term prosperity. Mills frequently recommends the acclaimed book Why Nations Fail by economists Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson, which examines how nations prosper or falter based on whether their institutions are inclusive or extractive. He sees disturbing parallels in New Zealand’s direction. In interviews, Mills points to examples (like the famous case of the city of Nogales, split between a relatively prosperous U.S. side and a poorer Mexican side) to illustrate how “when rich people managed to get their politicians in power and then created monopolies,” a society stagnates. Prosperity withers when a few insiders rig the game.

Mills warned, “Every New Zealander should read Why Nations Fail to understand what it takes to create a long-term successful economy – and the road we are going down now is weakening our economy through cronyism and political patronage.” These are strong words, made all the more striking by their source: a member of the Rich List himself. Mills, who has also invested heavily in environmental initiatives (helping found Pure Advantage to promote sustainable business), doesn’t shy away from criticising his peers. He has described the new National/Act coalition’s direction as veering toward an extractive, elite-captured model of the economy – exactly what New Zealand must avoid if it is to remain fair and prosperous.

Notably, Mills also suggests making KiwiSaver retirement saving compulsory to build up domestic investment capital (again, a policy that many rich investors might dislike, since it would channel more funds into diversified portfolios rather than, say, speculative property). In short, Phillip Mills demonstrates that not every multimillionaire is on board with the oligarchic agenda. His stance is a reminder that an economy skewed to benefit only the rich ultimately harms even the rich in the long run, because it undermines the inclusive institutions and broad-based growth that make for a stable society.

The Integrity implications: What this reveals about power and democracy 

The 2025 Rich List is more than a wealth scoreboard – it’s a power map of New Zealand’s oligarchy. When 119 families control wealth equivalent to 40% of GDP; when they systematically purchase political influence through donations and backroom lobbying; when they openly push a policy agenda to entrench their own privileges; and when they live in a bubble of private jets and superyachts while ordinary Kiwis struggle to pay rent – we are not looking at a healthy democracy. We’re looking at a country inching toward plutocracy, where political decisions cater to the rich and powerful at the expense of everyone else.

The “wishlist” of the ultra-wealthy – easier foreign property purchases, lower corporate taxes, less regulation, more subsidies for their investments – if enacted, would deepen inequality and concentrate power even further in their hands. Their vision of “Elevating NZ Inc” is really about elevating themselves. It’s a recipe for an entrenched oligarchy: a society in which a small elite owns an ever-larger share of assets and calls more of the shots, while the majority see declining economic security and diminishing political voice.

Perhaps most troubling is how normalised this has all become. The NBR’s tone in compiling the list is celebratory, even reverential – treating these fortunes as triumphs to admire rather than also asking tough questions about how such wealth was made. Nowhere does the Rich List (or much of our media) ask whether these “$100 billion of wealth creators” succeeded in part by keeping wages low, lobbying against regulations, or benefiting from public goods while avoiding taxes. There’s scant attention to how much of that wealth was created versus extracted – for instance, windfall gains from property inflation, monopoly pricing, or privatizing what used to be public.

Politicians, for their part, happily court these mega-donors at fundraisers and banquets, rarely acknowledging the corrosive effect of big money on our political system. And when media outlets profile the luxury lifestyles of the rich, it’s often with a tone of envy or intrigue, rather than examining the opportunity costs – remembering that every $50 million mansion or private jet represents resources not invested in public health, education, or affordable housing for the country. 

We have to face a sobering reality: New Zealand’s economic and political system is showing signs of capture by a wealthy elite. The Rich List, in all its glossy detail, is a warning sign. It reveals a stark power imbalance that should concern anyone who cares about egalitarianism, fairness, or the integrity of our democracy.

The Path forward: Reclaiming democracy from the oligarchs

So what is to be done? A silver lining in the Rich List is that even an insider like Phillip Mills recognizes the problem and points toward solutions. He argues for a capital gains tax to stop privileging unproductive property speculation, for compulsory KiwiSaver to build domestic savings, and for constant vigilance against the cronyism that could turn our democracy into an oligarchy. These ideas are a starting point, but much more is needed to turn the tide. New Zealanders concerned with advancing an integrity agenda – to build a more transparent, fair, and democratic society – should push for bold changes:

• Comprehensive tax reform: Introduce taxes on wealth and capital (including a robust capital gains tax and possibly inheritance or wealth taxes), and close the loopholes that currently allow many ultra-rich to pay lower effective tax rates than middle-class salary earners. We need a tax system that redistributes wealth and funds public goods, rather than one that lets billionaires grow ever richer tax-free.
• Campaign finance reform: Strengthen limits on political donations (lower caps, more frequent disclosure, perhaps public funding of parties) and increase transparency around who is bankrolling whom. The goal must be to reduce the ability of wealth to translate directly into political power – to ensure one person, one vote means more than one dollar, one vote.
• Lobbying and conflict-of-interest rules: It’s time to regulate lobbying in NZ – for example, by creating a public register of lobbyists and requiring disclosure of meetings between politicians and private interests. We should also enforce stricter rules to prevent the revolving door and undue influence (such as banning big political donors from receiving government appointments or contracts without scrutiny). Sunlight is the best disinfectant; shining more light on the interactions of money and politics will help curb cronyism.
• Regulatory courage: Rather than heed the Rich Listers’ calls for deregulation, policymakers should strengthen regulations that protect the public – whether on housing, finance, environment, or labour. For instance, instead of weakening planning laws to appease developer-donors, ensure those laws balance development with affordability and environmental sustainability. Instead of “fast-tracking” projects for those with connections, streamline processes for all and include anti-corruption safeguards. In short, guard the public interest, even if it means saying no to powerful business lobbies.
• Narrative shift: Finally, we need to challenge the prevailing narrative that extreme wealth at the top automatically benefits everyone. The Rich List mythos loves to dub the rich as “wealth creators”. Yet as we’ve seen, much of this wealth comes from rent-seeking, speculation, and extraction rather than innovation that truly lifts all boats. We should celebrate genuine entrepreneurial success, yes – but not ignore the social costs that come when wealth is hoarded and power abused. “Commercial success is not a sin,” Rich Lister Peter Cooper said, and he’s right. But commercial success built on monopolies, political patronage, or exploitation is a problem – it’s a threat to our democracy and Kiwi values of fairness.

The NBR Rich List 2025 isn’t just a catalogue of wealth – it’s a warning. It signals that New Zealand is at a crossroads. As inequality climbs and political influence becomes increasingly transactional, we risk drifting into a new gilded age. Picture the ultra-wealthy literally and figuratively above the rest of us – flying in their Gulfstreams high over a populace stuck below deck. We face a choice: continue celebrating oligarchy, or recommit to democracy. The Rich List shows us what we’re up against. Now it’s up to New Zealanders to decide what we’re going to do about it.