Don McKinnon and the prison debate team

2026-03-16 - 16:07

The biggest club in Paremoremo prison was the debating club. This had been set up early in 1972 by Don McKinnon, then a North Shore land agent who was active within the Auckland Debating Association (ADA). It was coached by Don, and by Geoff Greenbank, recently retired headmaster (1947-73) of the elite King’s College. The Paremoremo men threw themselves into the ADA’s annual A- and B-grade mooting competitions, producing fine debaters such as Evan Haora, Henare Dewes, Stan Rangi, Brian Agnew and Murray Kestle. None of these men had ever spoken in public before, and all had committed serious crimes such as rape, robbery and murder. On the debating floor they were devastating in their eloquence, logic, wit and riposte. Their style was inimitable. On one occasion, for example, Henare Dewes was speaking second against a team from Auckland Uni. When one of the university members made a clever interjection, Henare spun around to face him: “I’ll kill you, you cunt!” But as he said it, he spat his false teeth out onto the floor. With an embarrassed look Henare stooped, picked up his dentures and wiped them on his trousers, but instead of putting them back in his mouth he put them on the top of his head. Then he continued his argument without any teeth in his mouth. It brought the house down. That kind of humour was hard to match. In 1972 Paremoremo was knocked out in the semi- final of the B-grade competition, but after that it regularly won either or both the Auckland A-grade (Athenaeum Cup) or B-grade (Robinson Cup) competitions. The Paremoremo teams had to have all their debates inside the prison visiting room, and debating night was always a big talking point among the inmates. Who are we debating against? What’s the moot? Are we affirming or negating? I was asked to join the club soon after entering A Block in 1976. That year I was third speaker, with drug importer Brian Wareham second and burglar Peter Jordan leading. Geoff Greenbank would come in every week to help us develop our arguments and coach us in rhetorical delivery. Before each debate he’d be a bundle of nerves. “Go well, my son, go well!” he’d say. We were his boys. We won every debate in 1976 and on 18 November, following a tradition established in 1974, we were allowed escorted parole for the final in Queen’s Arcade, Auckland city. The moot, which we affirmed and Takapuna Toastmistresses negated, was ‘That Marriage is Outmoded’. On the night Geoff was almost speechless with tension, and when we won the Robinson trophy that evening this grand old gentleman was so proud he had tears in his eyes. Because we’d won the Robinson, in 1977 we moved up to A-grade. I was voted president of the club that year and I led the A team, with lifer Murray Kestle from B Block second and robber/safeblower Brian Agnew from C Block third. Don McKinnon was our coach, and he led us through our series of debates to the final. Again we competed without loss against the top teams in Auckland and were granted escorted parole for the final. It was an amazing night – after two- and-a-half years ensconced in maximum security, to be driving out through the Albany countryside towards the bright lights of the big city. The screws were toey in case somebody did a runner. But Ag spoke to them: “Look guys, nothing’s going to happen. I give you my word. So just relax and enjoy yourselves. We can all have a great night.” And so we did. We started off at Geoff’s place in Torbay, where a sumptuous buffet had been laid on and we had a couple of glasses of Geoff’s finest wine to relax us a bit. This was, of course, prohibited, but the screws had a drink too and they soon loosened up. Then it was off to the Maidment Theatre at the University of Auckland for the debate itself. This was the ADA’s final knees-up for the year, so the theatre was packed and the media were present. But we were well prepared and we knew our stuff and we won the Athenaeum cup. After that was another huge buffet meal and the wine flowed freely. A girl called Robyn, who had been visiting me recently, was there as well. I told one of the screws I was just going out for a piss, and Robyn and I disappeared under the Psychology building for a quick catch-up. At midnight the screws told us to bid our farewells and hop in the van. We were all pretty shickered by this time, and when we got back to the jail we wobbled down the stairs and back to our blocks. The guys in the blocks were still awake and there was a loud cheer when we told them we’d won the trophy. Next day, Hobson called me up to his office. “How did it go last night, Newbold?” “Really great, thanks. We won the trophy.” “Well done. Now, some of my officers tell me that you men were drunk when you came back.” “No, no, Mr Hobson, we were all sober.” “You didn’t have anything to drink?” “No, we didn’t drink anything at all.” “I’m pleased to hear it; they must have been mistaken. Thank you, Newbold.” The success of the debating teams at Paremoremo was largely a result of the indefatigable dedication of Geoff Greenbank and Don McKinnon. Geoff died of cancer in 1979, while Don went into politics, rising to become deputy prime minister of the National government in 1990 and then Secretary-General of the British Commonwealth in 1999. He was awarded the Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order in 2009. Don is a truly remarkable person and remains a loyal friend to this day. Taken with kind permission from the new memoir Dream Dealer by Greg Newbold (Allen & Unwin, $35), available in bookstores nationwide.