In 1992, one of John Gill’s staff members got into a car and drove some school-bus routes. The employee was also a University of Waikato student approaching an accounting research assignment. Route mapping was still a young technology. A car, a road and a measurement would do the job. The exercise found that schools and drivers had shortened routes. The payment calculations had failed to catch up.
Gill and his co-author Umesh Sharma later reported that, as routes were retendered and remeasured, the work saved $2–3 million a year. The staff member deserves a place in the story: the discovery came from someone willing to leave the desk. Gill’s contribution to the published account was to remember that small expedition and explain why it mattered.
There is something pleasingly awkward about the episode. A payment can look perfectly respectable while its underlying distance has become fiction. The sum is correct. The premise needs a drive. That distinction helps explain the interests of a Wellington accountant whose working life has included government ministries, Datacom and a long-running habit of writing about how institutions behave.
A career on both sides of the government desk
Gill worked as a public-sector accountant from 1972 to 1998. His last three government placements were director of financial management at the Ministry of Energy, assistant secretary at the Department of Māori Affairs and chief financial officer at the Ministry of Education. He participated in departmental budgeting for more than 20 years. These were jobs close to the machinery that turns political intentions into things people can actually use.
He and Sharma returned to that experience in their 2022 paper on public-sector financial management. They examined the changing demands on accountants as New Zealand moved from cash accounting towards accrual and output-based budgeting. Assets, depreciation and the connection between expenditure and what a department delivered became part of the job. A financial officer had more to explain than whether the cheques had cleared.
The bus-route example supplies a welcome patch of road in a subject crowded with abstract nouns. It shows what an accounting inquiry can accomplish when the person doing it checks the physical activity behind the bill. An accurate ledger still needs accurate information. Gill’s account makes that dependency unusually easy to picture.
- 01Drive the routes
- 02Compare actual distances
- 03Remeasure at retendering
Six votes for the desert
Another of Gill’s recollections begins with an imaginary plane crash. In a public comment about professional development, he described being asked, during a team-building exercise, to choose six items that would help a group walk out of the Sahara. The purpose was collective decision-making. Gill’s objection was rather inconvenient for the lesson plan.
He said he had worked in civil aviation and had been in the Sahara. He argued for staying with the aircraft and attracting rescuers. The group outvoted him six to one. In his telling, six would have walked away; he would have remained beside the plane. One suspects the facilitator’s feedback form required a little extra space.
The memory ends with a warm account of joining Datacom. He admired the engineers and scientists around him and said they taught him a great deal. His preference for development through actual work, exceptional colleagues and real clients is explicit. The episode is his own recollection, and its appeal is the friction between the exercise’s intended conclusion and the experience of the person in the room.
Payroll, partnerships and people who knew the work
By October 2006, Gill was signing correspondence as chief executive of Datacom Employer Services. In December 2011, he was identified as CFO of Datacom New Zealand. These titles put him in the business of running services and managing money, alongside the software and engineering work for which Datacom is known.
His professional connections crossed the boundary between government and the company. In a recommendation for Dinesh Burah, Gill described more than 20 years working together, first at the Ministry of Education and later at Datacom. He praised Burah’s management of staff, finances and clients in a complex outsourced business unit. His recommendation for Kevin Murphy similarly emphasised customer focus and the development of the payroll team.
Gill also wrote about the terms on which technology should be purchased. In a 2001 essay with Sym Gardiner, he argued for enduring relationships between clients and developers, attention to delivery risk and a wider view of the economic consequences of government buying decisions. The authors wrote from Datacom Employer Services, with a supplier’s stake in that debate. Their argument treated procurement as a decision whose consequences continued after the contract was signed.
A letter beyond the balance sheet
The 2006 correspondence appeared in a youth-court newsletter. Gill was writing about the guidance available to young people and families with few resources. He recommended Nash and Harker’s Succeeding Generations, a book he said had helped him think about changing the world. It is a different setting from an IT purchasing essay, but the interest in how people find their way through institutions remains.
The letter is brief. Its scale is part of its character: a chief executive taking the time to recommend something he had read, to readers working in another field. There is no grand programme attached to it. There is a concern about opportunity and a suggestion that a book might help.
An executive’s public record is often reduced to appointments and departures. This small intervention supplies another kind of detail. Gill read across the fence, so to speak, and sent a note back. The professional title sat underneath an argument about the conditions in which people make decisions about their lives.
The borough that refused to stay buried
Retirement gave Gill time to pursue a local mystery. After flooding in Wellington’s eastern suburbs, he recalled the council attributing the infrastructure to its predecessor, Melrose Borough. As a longtime resident, he had never heard of this convenient ancestor. He went looking. In August 2019, he published his account of the borough’s history and finances.
Melrose existed from 1888 until its amalgamation with Wellington in 1903. Gill followed its rating base, road expenditure, borrowing difficulties and arguments over joining the city. He concluded that amalgamation had improved the area’s prospects. He also challenged the suggestion that infrastructure inherited roughly a century earlier could explain away the present council’s responsibility.
The historical detail gives the dispute its bite. A vanished borough makes a splendid defendant: no communications team, no right of reply, no surviving annual leave to cancel. Gill’s response was to open the old books. The question of who should have maintained an asset became a question about how long an institution could reasonably continue blaming the previous owner.

A profession with room for company
Gill has kept ties to the accounting profession. CPA Australia’s 2020 account of his career described him as a retired former Datacom New Zealand CFO and a member of its New Zealand Divisional Council. He welcomed the Member Connect platform as a way for accountants separated by geography to exchange knowledge and experience.
His observation was plain: “With CPA Member Connect you can potentially reach many more members.” It is a useful counterpoint to the familiar picture of the solitary accountant. Here was someone with a long career making the case for having other people to ask. Networking, in this account, was a means of staying in touch with the work.
CPA Australia awarded him life membership in October 2021. The formal presentation followed on 19 May 2022, when he became the first recipient of that recognition in New Zealand. Its 2025 report continued to list him on the New Zealand Divisional Council. Retirement from an employer had left plenty of room for professional participation.
“With CPA Member Connect you can potentially reach many more members.”John Gill · 2020
Forty years of accountants, still an unfinished book
In June 2026, Gill published a chapter about Robert Collins, New Zealand’s former controller and auditor-general. He explained that it belonged to a book he had been writing since 1986. Earlier pieces had appeared in professional publications; now he was bringing them into a sequence of chapters. The people in the project came from several countries and included admirable figures as well as villains.
He described using ChatGPT to help turn years of accumulated research and articles into the book’s newer form. He invited corrections, suggestions and approaches from publishers or people interested in a screen adaptation. Those invitations were specific. He wanted the stories to travel, and he wanted readers to tell him when he had left something out.
That leaves an agreeable complication in his relationship with technology. Gill can welcome a tool that helps him organise a writing project while being sharply critical of another tool’s performance. In a comment on Datacom’s AI roadshow, he recounted calling a plumber whose AI telephone agent struggled with Wellington place names and gave weekend availability that contradicted the website. He called another plumber. The customer’s verdict fitted into a single action.
The questions continue in Wellington
His recent writing includes questions about Wellington council information, a proposed Queenstown cable car and the finances of professional sport. These are subjects on which he offers opinions, rather than conclusions readers must adopt. What connects them is his recurring interest in what an organisation plans to do, how it intends to pay and what would count as evidence that the plan is working.
That is why the school-bus story stays with the reader. It offers a modest test with a measurable result, and it gives credit to the colleague who carried it out. Gill’s career contains substantial titles and a formal honour from his profession. The car journey explains something those titles cannot: sometimes the useful question is whether anybody has checked the route lately.