Governing private security in New Zealand

Standards and professionalism in New Zealand

Poor industry standards and unprofessional practice have long exercised the New Zealand Security Industry Association (NZSIA) and its successor the NZSA. Beginning in 1993 with ‘SecureSure’, a scheme guaranteeing the quality of work provided by NZSIA members, followed in 2005 with a new strategy designed once again to ‘improve focus, standards and professionalism’ (Mexsom, 2006, p. 6), the NZSIA and the NZSA have continually sought to raise both standards in and the reputation of New Zealand's security industry. Spurred by these historic and on-going efforts a national sample of practitioners was canvassed about industry professionalism and the quality of its goods and services. This was followed by a series of focus groups and interviews the data from which also supplied a qualitative framework against which licensing data collected through the second study could be better interpreted and understood. An initial sample was identified through the NZSA and ASIS NZ. To help boost response rates both organisations promoted the research. The sample size was further increased following a Yellow Pages Business Directory search and ‘snowballed’ via the recommendations of participants and other industry contacts. Focus group and interview participants ⁵ self-selected through voluntarily providing contact details via returned questionnaires.

Industry professionalism

Questionnaires were distributed to 208 licensed companies representing 20% (n = 1030) of all licensed providers in the 2009/2010 licensing period. Responses were received from almost 53% (n = 109) of the sample, 45% (n = 49) of whom were NZSA members. Respondents were asked to ‘rate’, in general terms, industry professionalism. Around a third of all respondents (n = 35) rated the industry as either ‘very unprofessional’ (n = 12) or ‘unprofessional’ (n = 23). Conversely, less than one in six (14.7%) rated the industry as ‘professional’ and just four out of 109 respondents (3.7%) rated it ‘very professional’. Compared to the total sample fewer NZSA members (26.5% vs. 33%) rated the industry as ‘unprofessional’ and none rated it as ‘very unprofessional’. Nevertheless, less than one in five NZSA members (18.4%) rated the industry as ‘professional’ and just one out of 49 rated it ‘very professional’.

During focus groups and interviews a consensus emerged that all industry sectors are, to a greater or lesser extent, affected by poor standards and dubious practice. In this respect, private security in New Zealand appears little different to comparable countries, particularly Australia and England and Wales; countries with strong historical, political and cultural ties to New Zealand (see Button & George, 2006; Hakala, 2008; Prenzler & Sarre, 2008). While prominent international security ‘scandals’, including lethal violence, criminal infiltration and ‘insider’ crime have all featured in New Zealand (see Bradley & Sedgwick, 2009) according to practitioners operating on the front-line of service delivery, incompetence, poor service delivery and non-compliance are more typical problems.

Focus group participants first questioned the credibility of ‘the majority’ of licensed security consultants. An Auckland participant highlighted the large number of sales staff ‘masquerading’ as security consultants: ‘Independent consultants are top of the tree, genuine professionals. The majority however are just selling…it's about shifting product….’ This claim was borne out by the analysis of security licenses which revealed that in 2011 70% of all applicants applied for and were approved as security consultants despite many having no previous experience.

In the installation sector, participants identified a range of ‘typical’ problems including incompetence, dishonesty and the use of cheap and unreliable product. In a central North Island focus group, the owner of a large security company recounted his recent dismissal of dishonest technicians before adding ‘one of them now works for a competing company in town…They know all about him because I told them…so how unprofessional is that?’ The growth in consumer demand and subsequent industry expansion beyond experienced providers was cited as an important factor by all focus groups. Participants highlighted the growing number of ‘van and ladder men’ that were not ‘schooled’ in security and do not belong to and are thus not governed by the standards maintained by the NZSA. Alongside lower standards participants agreed that poor-quality installations were frequent outcomes. A Wellington interviewee emphasised the point that industry-specific training clearly differentiates ‘professionals’ from the rest:

professionalism… a lot is just service delivery. I've seen jobs done by “installers” and they might install Skytv or whatever but they loop wires and take dodgy short cuts… you can literally see the difference with our techies… …that's the training.

Finally, a Christchurch participant recalled two recent experiences of especially dubious practice:

…one in town was called back several times to fix a sensor…he fixed it alright…he just snipped the wires…again that's your professionalism. Alternatively, a supermarket was built, we got pipped on the price for the alarm system… thought obviously they wasn't making a profit…we discovered that all 48 sensors had been put in on one wire run…that's a massive reduction in cost…in the amount of materials and time.

Poor quality, unprofessional installation is hardly a new complaint. In the 1980s and 1990s, an unacceptable number of ‘false alarms’, caused by a combination of unreliable equipment, poor-quality installation and user error, catalysed the withdrawal of the police response to first commercial and then residential activations. According to the then Commissioner of Police, Kenneth Thompson, in the 1980s false alarms attended to by police accounted for between 96 and 98% of all alarm activations (NZSIA, 1984, p. 3); a figure that over a decade later, according to Commissioner Richard MacDonald (1995, p. 1), had not been sufficiently reduced. This led, in turn, to a loss of faith among police in the competence and capabilities of the wider industry (Bradley & Sedgwick, 2009). More recently, focus group participants told of an increasing number of licensed and unlicensed ‘cowboys’ using inferior product and taking short cuts to ‘undercut’ experienced companies in a market dominated by price. Concern was expressed that such unprofessional practice not only damages the industry's reputation but also distorts consumer expectations of costs and quality.

While poor standards are a ‘pan industry’ feature participants identified the guarding sector, its ‘Achilles heel’, as particularly problematic. The most visible sector with which the public have most regular contact ‘guarding’ offers by far the lowest pay and requires the fewest skills despite poses the greatest potential risk. Indeed low level remuneration, ‘typical of the security industry’, was a key factor explaining the poor standards of Wellington City Council's ‘City Safety Officer’ programme. Following a recent review, the programme, which involved contracted ‘safety officers’ performing public patrols, was moved in-house to ‘restore performance and ensure appropriate service delivery standards’ (Wellington City Council, 2012, pp. 2–3). While prominent international ‘scandals’ involving the guardian sector, including violence and criminal infiltration, have featured in New Zealand (see Bradley & Sedgwick, 2009) according to practitioners operating on the front-line of service delivery, incompetence, poor service delivery and non-compliance are more typical problems. It is also worthy of note that, in contrast to Rigakos' (2002) observations of the ‘parapolice’, their ‘wannabe cop’ culture and routine use of force, focus group participants suggested guarding companies in New Zealand were more content with a ‘junior partner’ role. Though not canvassed directly on this issue participants, owners/managers of guarding companies, nonetheless made a number of relevant comments including the claim that in some firms guarding staff were issued with strict instructions to avoid physical confrontations and to instead ‘withdraw’ and await police assistance.

Poor standards in the guarding sector are also compounded by a more frequent reliance on part-timers and ‘casuals’. Alongside poor pay, the absence of a career ‘pathway’ and limited opportunities for ‘professional development’ were also noted as key factors in very high staff turnover rates. Indeed, some survey respondents, owners or managers of guarding companies, reported annual staff turnover rates in excess of 50%. The average reported turnover rate was over 30%, a similar figure found by the 2007 Ministry of Justice (MoJ) review of the PI and SG Act (1974).

A Christchurch focus group emphasised the virtually non-existent barriers to entry and the poor standards this encourages: ‘you can start a guarding company with nothing…you won't bother getting licensed because it's not enforced…offer a service for $15 an hour…You can do that because you don't train and provide a black pullover for a uniform…’.

Particularly insightful comments were made by the Managing Director of one of New Zealand's largest and more reputable guarding companies:

it's the industry's Achilles heel…we manage people and…people are people…dress them in the best uniform…spend fortunes on technology but if they walk off the site or fall asleep everything falls over…the company can be professional but often the people that we can recruit aren't. We had a meeting last night after a robbery…that was a failure on every count by that crew in following standard procedure'.

Given this ‘cash crew’ had been trained and well equipped the interviewee expressed serious misgivings about more ‘disreputable’ companies that refuse to make similar staff ‘investments’. A recent, though extreme, case in point is provided by Charanpreet Dhaliwal, a young man killed during his first shift as a ‘casual’ guard. Offered a ‘trial’, Dhaliwal met the employer on-site where ‘training’ consisted on a 10-minute site tour following which he was given sole responsibility for its security. Despite previous break-ins there were no panic alarms, routine safety checks or site monitoring. Dhaliwal was even instructed to bring his own torch (Police News, 2012, p. 255).

Focus group discussion also centred on industry dynamics and other factors that aid understanding of poor standards. The practice of sub-contracting or the ‘bureau system’ was regarded as especially significant, its pervasiveness illustrated by the fact that over 67% of survey respondents regularly contracted out to or accepted work from third parties. The practice involves referring clients from one provider to another when the original provider (e.g. installer) cannot supply the goods or services requested (e.g. monitoring and/or response). Typically referred to as ‘clipping the ticket’ its popularity lies in the fact that a ‘connection fee’ or percentage of any ensuing contract can be earned by those referring clients (Bradley & Sedgwick, 2009). ‘Bureauing’ also enables companies to advertise national coverage by sub-contracting to smaller, sometimes sole, local operators. According to the NZSA, however, the bureau system ‘has led inevitably to poor standards of service delivery’ (New Zealand Security, 2004, p. 8). An Auckland interviewee elaborated:

A company offers to install your alarm for half price…organise the monitoring and response too…clients aren't told it's a bureau arrangement…certainly never told these other companies don't comply with industry codes…have unlicensed staff, no health and safety plan or adequate insurance.

In addition to undermining quality control ‘bureauing’ can also generate consumer resentment because it renders more difficult the resolution of service delivery failures. Often unaware of the involvement of third party providers clients have little opportunity to assess competence or quality. If clients play no part in their selection then consumer sovereignty may also be undermined. As O'Connor et al. (2004, p. 151) suggest, based on the notion that ‘poor performers will not survive’, it is claimed that ‘the marketplace provides substantial opportunities for accountability’. The pervasiveness of the bureau system, however, casts some doubt on the validity of this claim in the New Zealand context (see also Stenning, 2000, p. 345). Following Prenzler & Sarre, 2008 increased consumer demand and industry growth has allowed poor quality service providers to continue trading rendering ‘market forces’ less effective. Moreover, because clients are often tied to lengthy contracts ‘switching to other agencies whose practices they deem more acceptable’ (O'Connor et al., 2004, p. 152) may not be an easy or straightforward option. Zedner (2006, p. 275) also points to the ‘sheer diversity’ of providers which makes it difficult for consumers to obtain accurate information ‘about what they are buying and from whom’: consumers are thus hampered by ‘imperfect knowledge’ and ‘information deficits’, a ‘well-documented cause of market failure’. This situation is made all the worse by a variation in standards across different industry sectors. Clearly applicable to New Zealand, its consumers do not have readily available information on ‘what to expect or about which sectors they should be wary’ (p. 276). As is discussed below, some version of an approved contractor scheme (ACS), adapted for the New Zealand context, consisting of reliable, high quality providers audited by the NZSA, would assist consumers to make properly informed choices.

Consumer protection legislation and the insurance industry are also potential drivers of regulation at both company and industry level. The Consumer Guarantees Act (1993) provides some recourse for consumers of personal/household services which ‘must be performed with reasonable care and skill and fit for the particular purpose they were supplied for’. Curiously, because the Act is ‘self enforcing’ the agency responsible for it, the Ministry of Consumer Affairs, places the onus on individual consumers who are expected to seek redress directly with service providers (see Ministry of Consumer Affairs, 2013). Failing that consumers are forced to take the case through the time consuming Disputes Tribunal process. Insurance too has been described as ‘a potent driver of regulation’ because clients are required to buy only accredited security services and products (Ericson et al., 2003). However, focus groups and interviewees suggested the New Zealand insurance industry is not particularly interested in whether or not goods or services are accredited. According to one interviewee, a well-respected security consultant, the competitive nature of the market means insurance companies prefer instead to simply ‘collect premiums’ and ‘find fault’ following a claim. Focus groups suggested the insurance industry should do much more to drive improvements in standards both in individual companies and industry wide.

Price driven, ‘cut-throat’ competition, and the downward spiral in standards that often results, was another frequently cited industry wide dynamic. Focus groups offered the examples of mobile guard sub-contractors who, in order to make ‘unreasonable’ contracts profitable, replace thorough site checks with ‘drive-bys’ and the practice of ‘bait and switch’ in which some providers would install a much inferior product to that advertised. A common theme of the international literature (see Button, 2008; Challinger, 2006; van Steden & Sarre, 2007) price driven competition and a view of security as a ‘grudge purchase’ (Goode, Loader, & Thumala, 2010), appears no less a feature in New Zealand. Like elsewhere it has plagued the industry for decades. In 1990, the NZSIA Chair warned members ‘we are unlikely to be perceived as professional as long as we compete on cost alone’ (Security New Zealand, 1990, p. 9). In 2000, the NZSA Executive Director noted priced based competition explains the ‘substantial decline in the quality of services’ (Beatson, 2000, p. 5). More recently, an outgoing NZSA Chair warned that ‘low margin price wars persist’ and left unchecked would lead ‘to a bizarre race to the bottom’ (New Zealand Security, 2010, p. 34).

An alternative perspective on standards

An equally valuable and perhaps more objective perspective on standards was obtained from a 2011 analysis of security license applications and approvals. Unique in New Zealand, the analysis confirms a number of focus group and interviewee claims and underlines the challenges faced by the new ‘regulatory’ agencies: the PSPLA; and the Complaints, Investigation and Prosecution Unit (CIPU). These licensing data are a product of the previous regulatory regime and are, in that sense, ‘historical’. However, the analysis is still applicable for two reasons. First, was official anxiety that introducing the new regime ahead of the Rugby World Cup (September 2011) could result in a ‘security shortage’ due to there being insufficient time to vet, train and license the personnel required (Shepherd, 2011). Licenses issued under the previous regime were therefore ‘rolled over’ when the new Act came into effect; an intention that had been apparent since at least August 2010. The Associate Minister for Justice announced to the NZSA: ‘If you hold a licence or a certificate of approval under the Private Investigators and Security Guards Act 1974 immediately before the new regime kicks in, then you will be deemed to hold one under the new regime’ (Guy, 2010). Second, whereas under the old regime licenses were issued for one year now they would endure for five years. In combination, then, a degree of continuity exists from the old to the new in terms of licensees and patterns of distribution.

At 60%, 67% and 64%, respectively, there was a relatively even distribution of applications and approvals for three of the five ‘Security Guard’ license classes (A, B and C) then available. ⁶ Surprisingly, 50% and 72% of applicants were approved for monitoring (E) and security consultancy (D), respectively. The number (n = 810) approved as ‘consultants’ supports complaints that many are merely sales people ‘shifting product’. Similarly, approving 50% of applicants (n = 515) for monitoring suggests a high number of properly equipped, secure monitoring facilities. According to the NZSA, however, there are relatively few and the capital outlay required means these are run by a relatively small number of large companies. The high approval rate shores up claims that some monitoring ‘stations’ amount to little more than ‘backyard’ operations while others sought monitoring licenses simply to ‘bureau’ clients to actual providers.

The pattern of application and approval for multiple license classes per licensee revealed another surprising discovery. Just 23% of applicants (n = 259) specialised in, or confined their application to, one industry sector and license class. In all, 15% (n = 169) confined themselves to two, almost 25% (n = 204) were approved to operate in three and a further 13% (n = 152) were approved for four. Most surprising was that almost a third of all applicants (n = 342) were approved for every license class available. These applicants perhaps possessed the requisite expertise to supply almost every conceivable industry service. Analysis of the application forms, however, shows that a significant minority had either none or very little previous industry experience and thus expertise.

Across all five license classes an average of 21% of applicants had no previous industry experience and a further 8% did not meet the three-year minimum then in effect. ⁷ That so many inexperienced applicants gained approval suggests too little consideration was given by the PSPLA to applicant suitability. It may also reflect the view among PSPLA staff that theirs is primarily an administrative role with the timely processing of applications being the main priority.

Finally, application cover letters confirm the approval of large numbers of inexperienced operators and industry expansion beyond ‘professional’ security companies. Among those with no industry experience frequently cited reasons for the application included the desire to learn and develop new skills, a search for employment or an opportunity for a non-security related business to expand into security services. This analysis of all 2011 licenses suggests that a key regulatory objective, to control the quality of personnel, was not effectively met and the PSPLA has conferred legitimacy and professional status on a significant number of otherwise non-compliant individuals and companies.

Politics and regulation: The broader context

Before discussing the key features of the PSP and PI Act (2010), it is first necessary to outline the broader political context and the Government's apparent antipathy to statutory regulation. Exemplified by the Regulatory Standards Bill (RSB) (2011) currently before a Parliamentary select committee, the political context is important because it determines the principles and defines the parameters of statutory regulation. Familiarity with the political context thus aids understanding of the limitations of the PSP and PI Act (2010).

The RSB is the latest in a series of Bills aimed specifically at constraining ‘irresponsible’ government and is virtually identical to the 2009 Regulatory Responsibility Bill (RRB). Much of the content of the latter was replicated in the Government's 2009 statement ‘Better Regulation, Less Regulation’ which, according to Kelsey (2010, p. 37), provided a ‘fallback position’ in case the RRB failed. The 2009 Bill was, in turn, the successor to an earlier private members Bill introduced in 2006. Both the 2006 and 2009 Bills are almost identical to the proposals contained in the 2001 Business Roundtable Discussion Paper ‘Constraining Government Regulation’. Given this lineage, Kelsey (2010, pp. 36–41) argues they form part of a regulatory strategy representing unfinished neo-liberal business that has proved more difficult to implement than its monetary and fiscal counterparts.

The RSB sets out principles of ‘responsible regulation’, installs a certification process and empowers the High Court to declare whether new regulation is incompatible with the legislation (Elkins, 2011). Notwithstanding the introduction of various administrative measures, including regulatory impact analyses and review mechanisms, the Minister for Regulatory Reform argued ‘the more stringent requirements’ of the RSB was ‘the only way to change the way that Governments think about regulation’ (Hide, 2011). Kelsey's (2010) analysis pre-dates the 2011 RSB, but she would no doubt regard it as ‘RRB Mark III’ (Knight, 2011), an ‘ideological agenda’ and an attempt to impose ‘far-reaching pro-market disciplines on domestic regulation’ (Kelsey, 2010, p. 36). Her analysis of the ‘neo-liberal regulatory regime’, of which the RSB is the most recent iteration, identifies a ‘deeply cynical’ view of electoral politics associated with the Public Choice school and its position that ‘responsible’ regulation can only be produced through ‘constitutional restraint on government’ (Epstein, 2000, p. 5).

During its first reading, the Minister stated the RSB's aim was, simply, to ‘improve the quality of regulation’ and ‘minimise the regulatory burden’ (Hide, 2011, p. 19751). This rather neutral description contrasts with more strident comments contained in Ministerial speeches that reveal the Coalition Government's antipathy to regulation and its more general desire for minimal government. In a 2009 speech, the Minister (Hide, 2009, p. 1) claimed:

New Zealand is over regulated. Government has got too big…Red tape is typing businesses up in knots…there has been an avalanche of new rules and regulations…. My goal is to weed out the noxious specimens…we intend to continue until nothing remains but what is natural and benign

The Associate Minister of Justice has acknowledged the public interest in ensuring safe and professional security services but also suggested ‘because an industry provides important services does not justify legislative intervention’ and ‘sometimes the best option is not to regulate at all…’ (Guy, 2010, p. 2). Rather, a three-point test should be applied before any ‘Government intervention’: Do the services carry significant risk? Can that risk be addressed via the market? And how costly and effective is that intervention likely to be? (Guy, 2010, p. 3). In light of the research informing this article, the first question can be answered in the affirmative, the second largely in the negative and the answer to the third surely depends on the nature and scope of the regulatory regime itself.

Key features of the PSP and PI Act (2010)

Viewed in the context of the mid-1970s (see de Waard, 1999; Hakala, 2008, p. 6), the PI and SG Act (1974) is an early example of security industry regulation. ⁸ Such foresight did not, however, extend to its scope. In applying to some but not all industry sectors, and in imposing only minimum requirements, the 1974 Act was an exemplar of Button and George's (2006, p. 570) ‘minimum wide’ system. Disregarding the risks posed by door supervisors/crowd controllers and the potential confusion created by exempting ‘in-house’ security, none were included in the legislation. Its reach and intensity (de Waard, 1999) was further reduced when pre-employment and mandatory minimum training was rejected. Administered by the Department of Justice, licenses (companies) and certificates of approval (employees) were issued by a Registrar appointed by the Minister. New Zealand police were given responsibility for enforcement and prosecution. It was, however, a responsibility to which, over time, they displayed an attitude of increasing indifference. Indeed, industry complaints about inadequate enforcement appeared soon after the 1974 legislation was enacted (1975). The inaugural annual report of the Registrar of the PI and SG Act noted ‘difficulties’ ⁹ and ‘various industry submissions regarding lax enforcement’ (Annual Report, 1976, pp. 4–5). In 1981, the NZSIA complained about inadequate enforcement against unlicensed operators (Fitch, 1981). In a 1989 article (Security New Zealand, 1989, p. 5), the NZSIA ‘declares war on unlicensed operators’ noting ‘the increasing number of illegal operators highlights the need for the police to take enforcement of the PI & SG Act seriously’. In 2000, attention was once again drawn to the ‘lack of adequate regulations and the police inability to enforce those that are in place’ (Beatson, 2000, p. 5). Further evidence comes for the response to a 2006 request for official information on the number of prosecutions under the Act. Despite growing concern over unlicensed operators the response reported that in the decade between 1995 and 2006 just 11 individuals were prosecuted. Devoid of mandatory training, and hampered by inadequate enforcement, the 1974 Act predictably struggled to raise standards. Despite almost continuous NZSIA/NZSA lobbying, 26 years passed before the legislation was reviewed (Ministry of Justice, 2007) and a further nine before new legislation came into effect.

Like its predecessor, the PSP and PI Act (2010) Act aims to ‘significantly raise standards and reduce risk’ (Guy, 2010). A number of previously unregulated ‘sectors’ – crowd control/door supervisors, personal guards and document destruction – were finally brought under the control of the Licensing Authority. In imposing additional licence criteria the new regime is also slightly more comprehensive. Whereas previous requirements extended no further than disqualifying criminal convictions, a key feature of the new regime is minimum mandatory training. Limiting its impact, however, is the fact that it applies only to contract and in-house crowd controllers/door supervisors and contract property guards and will take just 18 hours to complete. Moreover, details of the mandatory training regime were released as recently as September 2013 almost two and a half years after the Act came into effect. Further delaying any practical effects applicants have until October 2014 to complete the training during which time they are permitted to continue working (Ministry of Justice, 2013).

Other significant features include the establishment of ‘dedicated’ enforcement (CIPU) and licensing bodies (PSPLA) funded from licensing revenue. Sanctions imposed for regulatory breaches have been substantially increased; companies and individuals operating without a license face fines up to $60,000 and $40,000, respectively, and unlicensed employees face fines up to $20,000. Disqualifying criminal offences have been ‘up-dated’, and the period during which applicants must remain conviction free extended from five to seven years while the duration of licenses has also been extended from one to five years. Despite this extension of ‘width’ and ‘depth’ a range of fundamental problems and weaknesses mean the new regime falls well short of international best practice.

The first problem revolves around the issue of ‘in-house’ security. In recognising ‘the risk of physical harm’ (Ministry of Justice, 2013, p. 1), in-house crowd controllers and door supervisors are covered while in-house security (property) guards are not, despite the latter clearly outnumbering the former (Bradley & Sedgwick, 2009). This selective application is justified by a combination of ‘risks’ and ‘rights’ where risk is associated almost exclusively with violence and with those most likely to become involved in physical confrontations. In explaining this exemption, the MoJ cite the ‘long established principle’ of the right to defend one's own property and that ‘having one's employees to act in defence of one's property is a logical extension of this right’ (Ministry of Justice, 2007, p. 6).

Excluding such a large proportion of in-house security is a serious omission (Button, 2007, p. 115). Unintended consequences include undermining the goal of raising standards industry-wide and the potential for confusion amongst the public and other agencies (p. 114). The latter is particularly likely where in-house and contract guards work side-by-side in ‘communal’ spaces such as retail, sporting or entertainment complexes. Moreover, it may also inadvertently encourage a ‘two tier’ industry: on one level is ‘contract’ security subject to mandatory training and external scrutiny; on another is in-house security that has only to meet the demands of employers.

More far reaching still is the superficiality of arguably the key feature of the new regime; minimum mandatory training. That it has been introduced at all is encouraging and will assist raising standards in those sectors subjected to it. However, mandatory training applies only to those – crowd controllers, door supervisors and property guards – deemed to pose the greatest risk of inflicting physical harm. The risks posed by other sectors, particularly installers of equipment, monitoring were thought ‘tolerable’ in comparison and thus the burden of additional compliance costs deemed unwarranted (Ministry of Justice, 2009).

The neglect of the wider ‘risk profile’ (Prenzler & Sarre, 2008) is also evident in the short duration of training. MoJ guidelines (2013) state mandatory training consists of three ‘unit standards’ ¹⁰ that will take just 18 hours to complete. This falls short of the minimum requirements in many Australian jurisdictions (see Sarre & Prenzler, 2011) and England and Wales (see White, 2013) both of which fall short of European best practice (see Button & George, 2006; Hakala, 2008). Thus across Europe at the higher end of mandatory minimum training is the 260 and 217 hours imposed by Sweden and Portugal, respectively, and the 130 and 120 hours imposed by Belgium and Denmark, respectively. At the lower end are Finland and England and Wales at 40 hours each (Button & George, 2006, p. 573). In Australia mandatory training takes, on average, two weeks to complete (Prenzler & Milroy, 2012, p. 344). At just 18 hours mandatory minimum training in New Zealand appears inadequate in comparison. Though already more comprehensive than New Zealand, Prenzler and Milroy (2012, p. 354) argue that in Australia it is ‘imperative that governments underwrite integrity and competency’ with yet ‘more advanced regulatory systems’. The mismatch between New Zealand and Australia is all the more surprising in light of the Trans Tasman Mutual Recognition Act (1997). This facilitates persons registered for occupations in Australia or New Zealand to carry out the same occupation in either of the two countries. As it stands, Australian trained security personnel are over-qualified for New Zealand while under-qualified New Zealander's would fail by a distance to meet Australian standards.

Shorn of a number of key components, the training content is also inadequate. The primary focus is ‘managing conflict’ while knowledge of the law, search and detention procedures, incident recording, crime scene preservation, health and safety and even basic first aid are all omitted. Excluding first aid training is especially surprising given the potential for physical injury in those alcohol-fuelled environments frequently ‘policed’ by private security and because security personnel are typically first to respond. A further potential, if unintended, consequence arising from the minimalist training regime is that while it may prove beneficial at the lower reaches of the industry it may also have the effect of lowering standards at the highest level. In relation to the UK, for example, White (2013, p. 12) suggests that in imposing training standards that most can easily achieve there may be ‘less incentive for those who have historically recruited above this standard to continue to do so’.

New Zealand's new regime also fails to match the majority of Prenzler and Sarre's principles of ‘best practice’ (2008, p. 11–12) applicable to the New Zealand context. There is little recognition of the value of a genuinely consultative, partnership approach to improving regulation consistent with ‘smart’ or ‘responsive’ regulatory systems (see Gunningham & Grabosky, 1999). Establishing standing industry and stakeholder consultative committees can ensure industry support, encourage greater compliance and supply a source of expertise and continuous feedback on the impact of regulation. Such an approach would be especially effective in New Zealand given the long standing work of the NZSA in compliance auditing and its more recent establishment of a dedicated training division. Furthermore, in the New Zealand context this approach could also provide a ‘check’ (Prenzler & Sarre, 2008, p. 11) on a characteristic feature of regulation to date: under-enforcement.

A related failing is the lack of on-going, independent policy-oriented research informing industry professionalisation and which reflects the absence of a PSPLA and CIPU ‘mission’ for continuous industry improvement. Also contrary to Prenzler and Sarre is the absence of enforceable codes of conduct and testing programmes for drug and/or alcohol use/abuse in the more ‘high risk’ occupations such as door supervisors and crowd control (see Prenzler & Sarre, 2008, pp. 11–12).

Each of these problems is compounded by another problem of at least equal significance; the enforcement approaches employed by the PSPLA and the CIPU. Prenzler and Sarre particularly emphasise proactive regulatory agencies ‘vigorously’ monitoring compliance and investigating complaints and highlight the value of ‘innovative’ research to expose malpractice that ‘often eludes traditional forms of inspection’ (2008, p. 12). It is highly unlikely, however, that these ‘dedicated’ regulatory agencies have that capacity. The PSPLA is primarily an administrative rather than enforcement body per se. The priority of its three staff members is the timely processing of license applications. Moreover, the licensing system is just one administrative duty it performs. The Tribunals Unit (Ministry of Justice), the ‘home’ of the PSPLA, is responsible for administering 28 tribunals. The administration of security licensing apart, the PSPLA along with other Tribunal Unit staff is involved in eight including the onerous Review Authority and Legal Aid Review. The raison d'être of the CIPU is enforcement. However, its 26 ‘investigators’ are tasked with much more than enforcing the PSP and PI Act. Despite its official description as a ‘dedicated’ stand alone enforcement unit, there are no ‘dedicated’ CIPU investigators. Rather they form a common ‘pool’ of investigators, housed within Regulatory Services, Department of Internal Affairs, that perform multiple roles. In addition to enforcing the PSP and PI Act other duties include gambling, censorship and electronic messaging compliance (anti-spam) and anti-money laundering (Department of Internal Affairs, 2013). It was no surprise then that during a meeting the CIPU Manager explained the unit's ‘passive’ as opposed to ‘proactive’ enforcement approach and that it acted only upon the receipt of complaints or on referrals from the PSPLA; a situation not dissimilar to that found by Hyde (2003) in Canada. For this ‘dedicated’ unit enforcing the PSP and PI Act appears, at best, a secondary focus.

Pluralising the governance of private security

There can little doubt that the New Zealand model is a product of an ideological preference for ‘light touch’ regulation and a minimal compliance ‘burden’. Its disinclination to match international best practice and comprehensively regulate, even at the level of its closest neighbour Australia, means the state can no longer be relied upon as a ‘single centre of action’ (Johnston & Shearing, 2003, p. 148). However, governance does not have to be ‘the prerogative of a single auspice’ (Johnston, 2007, p. 40), an exclusive responsibility of state agencies (Lewis & Wood, 2006), or confined to a single ‘site’ (Shearing & Wood, 2007). That hierarchical ‘command and control’ approaches have thus far failed to raise standards underlines the need to move beyond this ‘two actor play’ (Drahos, 2004, p. 323) and experiment with more innovative modes of governance. Drawing on recent New Zealand developments in network policing and police/security partnerships, one potentially effective means of doing so is to adopt a hybrid (Scott, 2000) approach akin to the ‘meta-governance’ model (Grabosky, 1995) involving a plurality of public and private actors ‘responsible to a singular set of norms and standards’ (Lewis & Wood, 2006, p. 232). Far from ruling out a role for the state, a meta-governance approach, consistent with Loader and Walker's (2006) notion of anchored pluralism, can build upon, supplement and reinforce the existing regulatory foundation provided by the PSP and PI Act (2010) while compensating for some of its weaknesses.

A potential additional auspice of governance is the Crime Prevention Partnership Forum (CPPF), a nationally focused strategic network chaired by police and comprised representatives of New Zealand industry associations, many of which are large consumers of private security. These include the Bankers Association; the New Zealand Insurance Council; Telecommunications Association; Retailers Association; Motel Association and the NZSA. Established in 2009 its core ‘mission’ is to enable business, the community and police to identify new ways to contribute to crime prevention. At the time of writing, there are two pilot initiatives that may well prove effective in improving industry standards and in countering the limited scope of the PSP and PI Act (2010). The first, ‘Project Horus’, aims to foster collaborative partnerships between police and private security at the local level. Its potential to improve industry standards lies in the fact that participation is not open to all security companies. Rather, ‘partner’ companies are instead recommended by the NZSA based upon their compliance with the law and established industry codes of practice developed and maintained by the NZSA. By including the latter Project Horus insists on higher standards than the minimal requirements imposed by the PSP and PI Act (2010). The incentives for security companies to meet these extra requirements, and be considered for inclusion, are the public exposure and enhanced reputation gained by involvement in a successful police partnership. While police cannot endorse specific commercial enterprises, thus becoming vulnerable to accusations of inappropriate industry promotion (see Zedner, 2006), participating security companies can exploit the marketing potential generated by their successful contributions to local crime prevention projects.

The second, developed in response to growing concerns regarding unlicensed door/crowd control staff, will help maximise its effective regulation and mitigate the effects of an under-resourced CIPU. It involves the police, NZSA and CIPU staff, operating under the auspices of the CPPF, formulating a plan of action to identify non-compliant licensed premises and conduct random inspections to exclude rogue operators, and ensure greater compliance and raise standards. Given the current emphasis on reducing alcohol-related offending and disorder, estimated to cost over $1 billion (NZ) annually, the police and general public have a particular interest in supporting improved professionalism in this sector. Following Lewis and Wood (2006, p. 237) encouragement can be drawn from research that shows the considerable influence of ‘shaming’ and other mechanisms targeting reputation in ‘inducing compliance’ (Gunningham, Kagan, & Thornton, 2004); in this case providers of door security services and licensed premises alike.

The NZSA itself may provide another ‘site’ of governance if given the authority to administer a New Zealand version of an ‘Approved Contractor Scheme’ (ACS). Research conducted by White and Smith (White, 2013, p. 15) shows that while not without problems, the ACS in England and Wales made a positive contribution to improved industry standards. To be effective, however, the NZSA would need to maintain its thorough auditing and inspection processes so as to avoid reputational damage to the scheme particularly in the period following its introduction (see White, 2013, p. 14). In light of their increasing consumption of private security, the scheme could be particularly attractive to government agencies (Bradley & Sedgwick, 2009). It would help reduce the current situation of ‘imperfect knowledge’ assisting all agencies to assess the relative quality or otherwise of security companies; information not currently available outside of the industry and the NZSA. Government agencies could then move beyond selection based on an assumption that the bigger the company – and the extent to which it has the capacity to supply services nationwide and to sites across the country – the better the quality. The problem with selecting firms on this basis, as the research informing this article has shown, is that far too often ‘national’ security companies rely on contracting much smaller local firms to deliver services on their behalf but whose quality and professionalism is often unknown. Some version of an ACS may also help encourage users to focus on better quality service delivery and discourage the cost fixation in a fiscally constrained public sector.

Finally, during CPPF discussions on ways to reduce repeat domestic burglaries the insurance council also expressed keen interest in an adapted ACS to identify high quality local providers to service clients following victimisation. Utilising its extensive compliance auditing expertise the NZSA would issue accreditation only to those companies that met the required standards; standards that once again go beyond those imposed by the PSP and PI Act.