spinofflive
Chemical-science

ĀteaOctober 6, 2017

An 85 year-old man just bolted into the race for worst column of the year

Chemical-science

Ātea editor Leonie Hayden responds to a misinformed shambles of an opinion column published in numerous newspapers this week.

On October 2, Fairfax published an opinion piece across a number of their regional newspapers by an ancient and mysterious figure named Bob Brockie.

Described in his Wikipedia page as a ‘cartoonist’ and ‘scientist’ (who did his PhD on hedgehog ecology), Bob opined from his crypt, presumably using a quill dipped in bat blood, that a contract awarded to Massey University to integrate Māori landscape classification into environmental data is “preposterous: a bad joke.”

Apologies for the crimes against macrons – that’s just the (weirdly apt) way they display on the press reader site

The project in question, ‘He Tātai Whenua: A Te Ao Māori landscape classification’, has received $2.7 million in funding from the Ministry of Business Innovation and Employment’s Endeavour Fund.

It will use the money to translate Māori environmental expertise so it can be added to existing systems. Known as geographic information systems, they allow scientists to understand our physical environment by combining geographic data such as land type, soil type, elevation, and other vital data like waterways, roads and developments.

Bob, a real human man whose opinion has been published by major New Zealand newspapers, completely dismissed the idea that matauranga Māori has anything to contribute to science.

“Māori relations are rooted in the supernatural. Our mountains are personified as gods and a spiritual life force (mauri) supposedly enlivens all lakes, rivers, the ocean, plants, animals and people,” he writes. “Science long ago dismissed the supernatural and the life force as pure fiction, making Western science and the religion of Stone Age vitalism incompatible.” Strong words from a man who once wrote this:This argument seems like what we in the business call ‘racist’, grasping at tenuous comparisons and half-heard, barely understood ‘facts’ to discredit Māori. Sure we could give him a ‘racist uncle’ pass – his bio reveals he was born in 1932 and maybe his opinions are considered as typical of a certain bygone era.

But to let these attitudes go unchecked would be a disservice to the scientists and researchers who value indigenous knowledge.

Jacinta Ruru (Raukawa, Ngāti Ranginui, Ngāti Maniapoto), co-director of Ngā Pae o te Māramatanga, New Zealand’s Māori Centre of Research Excellence, says luckily, Bob is in the minority in assuming that matauranga Māori has nothing to offer science. “It just doesn’t fly in this time. It’s not representative of where research is at. This Massey research sits amongst incredible research across our universities and institutions over the last few decades.

“This is not seen as ticking a box for the Treaty of Waitangi, it’s much deeper than that. There’s a real appreciation by scientists across the country that there is real knowledge here that we would be crazy as a nation to ignore.

“What is he threatened by?”

Aside from the sweeping generalisation about science dismissing the concept of ‘life force’ (citation needed, Bob), the danger in using the Western term ‘religion’ to describe the system by which land and resources are given the attributes of deities or ancestors is that it ignores the very real lessons those stories contain (and is also completely the wrong word, Bob).

While stars may have been imbued with the names and characteristics of ngā atua, the gods, the knowledge and research that Māori and their ancient ancestors used to navigate from point A to point B was very real. Were it not, I literally would not be here right now.

Seems unreasonable

Traditionally, pūrākau and pakiwaitara about gods or adventurous ancestors, even those with magical abilities, contained a lesson or a warning. The English translations ‘myths and legends’ are imperfect because they imply untruth. The knowledge contained within Māori stories is very real, therefore it is a variety of true story, even if you don’t believe a man can transform into a woodpigeon.

How so? Pūrākau about the gods and their roles within the environment informed us of what foods to eat and when. The stories of taniwha who live in the bends of ancestral rivers, each the kaitiaki of the hapū that live nearby, also describe the history of that place and the hazards or the resources that can be found there.

Nearly 1000 years of navigating via the stars, reading geography, tides and weather patterns for safe fishing and hunting practices, studying the migration patterns of birds and whales, and adapting agricultural practices to suit New Zealand’s unique climate – all of it categorically, uncompromisingly, uses scientific methodology.

Bob goes on to point out that in fact, Māori claims to kaitiakitanga are disingenuous because of the introduction of the Pacific rat and the extinction of the moa. To think that those are comparable to mass pollution and habitat destruction as a result of colonialism and industrialisation would be hilarious if it wasn’t so disturbing. It goes without saying Māori have employed countless methods to protect species and natural resources as best they can, including rahui – hunting and gathering bans, placed on species during breeding seasons or when resources became scarce. Rongoā Māori medicine alone contains hundreds of rules about regenerating resources and giving back anything you take from the natural environment.

Bringing a rat stowaway is basically the same as the impact of Pākehā for sure

In many cases Western science has simply proven what indigenous cultures knew all along. It took until 1927 to give a name to the ‘food chain’ and the idea that our existence is inextricably intertwined with other flora and fauna – it’s an idea that informs almost all indigenous cultures, a philosophy so ancient it’s as laughable as Europeans ‘discovering’ lands already occupied by thousands of people.

What is he threatened by? It’s a good question, that can be asked of anyone hell bent on resisting the incorporation of Māori culture, knowledge or language into contemporary society. We all stand to gain.

A true scientist would recognise the potential of a 1000 year old well of untapped information.

Kumara 6 Oct

ĀteaOctober 6, 2017

The story of the kūmara – a superfood shaped by Māori

Kumara 6 Oct

Health expert Te Miri Rangi looks at ways to revive indigenous Māori knowledge to optimise health and wellbeing.

Generations of evolution and human development have influenced the way our tinana, or our body, functions, and how it responds to the kai we eat. Most of the kai around us today has emerged as the result of an industrial food system. Years of scientific development have conditioned our palates to prefer foods full of ‘flavour’. These are foods that are often highly processed and full of sugar or fats. Most of us now crave that sugar hit, or that fatty burger because of it.

Once upon a time the food market looked very different for Māori, and as a consequence our bodies did too.

The traditional Māori food system originates within the narratives, or pūrākau, of the offspring of Rangi and Papa. The children of Rangi and Papa are considered the kaitiaki of the various realms on Earth. This includes Tāne, who resides over the forests, Tangaroa over the ocean, Haumiatiketike over uncultivated foods, and Rongomātāne over peace and cultivated crops, to name a few. In essence, the traditional foods available for consumption by Māori were considered to be shaped by the environment, and shared whakapapa or a lineage and connection to the various offspring of Rangi and Papa. Māori kai had the power to carry the energy or essence of atua to feed our whānau, tinana, hinengaro and wairua.

Kūmara in particular was an important food source for Māori. Compared to the tropical climate in other parts of the Pacific where kūmara can flourish, it struggled to grow in the colder conditions here in Aotearoa. Through improved technology and growing practices the kūmara soon began to thrive in parts of the country, and with limited sources of carbohydrates available, it quickly became integral to Māori communities. All aspects pertaining to the kūmara from planting to harvesting, to cooking and eating were ritualised and connected to the atua of peace, Rongomātāne. This enabled useful information to be shared amongst communities and passed on through successive generations.

Kumara. Photo: CC0 Public Domain

Interestingly, when Tāne created the first being, Hineahuone, from the earth of Papa, it was Rongomātāne who was responsible for gifting parts of the puku, the belly. The link between the kūmara and the formation of the puku of Hineahuone through Rongo tells us how our tūpuna understood the influence of our food on the gut, and our overall health. It is only in recent years we have begun to understand the influence our gut has on our immune system and overall health.

Today, kūmara is understood to have a low glycaemic index (GI) which means it releases glucose or energy slowly in to our bloodstream throughout the day. This helps the body draw on that energy over longer periods, reducing the likelihood of elevated blood sugars. Chronic elevated blood sugar can lead to insulin resistance and complications associated with type two diabetes. Compared to a chocolate bar or piece of bread, kūmara has the goods in terms of meeting the needs of our tinana. Studies have also shown that kūmara carry anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant properties that can assist the healing functions of the body. It is almost like kūmara is our very own superfood – maybe that explains the $8.99 a kilo price tag I have been seeing at my local farmers market.

When we think about kai it can be so easy to turn to what is convenient. Nine times out of ten that convenient kai is going to end up costing you later in life. A convenient kai for our tupuna involved a dive down the beach for a kūtai or a mussel, for us it involves a $2.50 pie from the bakery. When food is prolific in the modern era it takes a lot of conscious effort to avoid temptation. Our tupuna never had to deal with lollies, pies, cakes and takeaways, but our tupuna had the fortune of living naturally and eating kai enhanced with the whakapapa of atua. That approach enabled their vigour and strength to thrive. If you can see the kai that you eat as something greater than an instant palatable satisfaction, as kai that shares whakapapa with atua, then it feeds not only the puku, but your wairua as well. That is a kaupapa Māori approach to dieting. That is a Māori food system.

This is the first column in an ongoing series.

Find Ātea on Facebook and Twitter.