I remember hearing about a school that, apparently, has four categories in its annual cross-country running event.

Competitive running, non-competitive running, competitive walking and non-competitive walking.

And I suspect this is the type of thing new National MP Sam Uffindell was getting at, when he delivered his maiden speech in Parliament last night.

The general drift of his speech was that New Zealand has slipped into cruise mode (or a general malaise, as he put it) and we seem to be more than willing to accept mediocrity and we have much lower expectations and we need to take a good hard look at ourselves.

So if I was to summarise - Sam Uffindell thinks we’ve gone a bit soft.

He talked in Parliament last night about playing sport when he was a kid, and playing to win.

“Every time I played, my dad taught me to play to win. And I did, and I loved it. Now we don’t even keep score.”

Which is why I mentioned the school cross-country with the four categories - competitive running, non-competitive running, competitive walking and non-competitive walking.

Over the years, I’ve probably been just as guilty as the next person of rolling my eyes over the whole “taking part is more important than winning” thing.

I certainly did that when I heard about the “non-competitive walking” cross-country.

Just like, over the years, when I’ve gone to the kids’ swimming sports and I’ve been dismayed how the number of kids taking part seems to have dwindled every year. Because taking part in school swimming competitions isn’t compulsory anymore.

Not that that seems to have stopped our swimmers from winning medals at the Commonwealth Games, has it?

But is it really such a big deal that kids don’t have to do the swimming sports if they don’t want to? And is it really such a big deal that there’s a school that lets the kids go for a non-competitive walk around the cross-country course?

And are these things really going to be the downfall of our country?

Another thing the new Tauranga MP talked about in his speech last night was wanting his kids to grow up in a country that allows people to reach their potential.

Which I think is an interesting concept in itself, because who determines what someone’s potential is?

When I read that comment I couldn’t help thinking about something mental health campaigner Mike King said recently. He was talking about how what we, as parents, think is encouragement, is actually the complete opposite.

He gave an example of two parents talking to their son, and saying: “Your mum and I love you but we both know you can do better.” The parents think it’s encouragement, but Mike King says what the kid thinks is: “No matter what I do, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

And that’s where I think this talk about people reaching their potential can be so dangerous. Because who decides what someone’s potential is?

There's a line I like to use about what good is a a mind if you can’t change it - and that’s how I feel after reading Sam Uffindell’s comments.

All power to him if he loves to win. I like to win too. But we can’t win all the time. And there are many, many people who never win - and how do you think they feel when they hear a member of our parliament saying winning is everything and, if you don’t win, it means you’ve gone soft.

Which is why I no longer think it’s absurd that kids, for example, don’t have to take part in the swimming sports - and why I no longer think a non-competitive walking category in the school cross country is nuts. I’ve changed my mind.

Because I reckon the worst thing we can do for anyone, is decide on their behalf what their potential is - and, even worse, tell them when we think they’re not living up to it.

I’ll put my hand up and say I struggle with that all the time, as a parent. I suspect you do too, if you’re a parent. But I want to get better at it.

And that’s why I completely disagree with MP Sam Uffindell’s view that New Zealand has gone soft. I don’t think we are more willing to accept mediocrity. And I don’t think our expectations are any lower than they used to be.