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Judith Collins and Gerry Brownlee lead out the National caucus after their selections as leader and deputy, July 2020. (Photo: Robert Kitchin-Pool/Getty Images)
Judith Collins and Gerry Brownlee lead out the National caucus after their selections as leader and deputy, July 2020. (Photo: Robert Kitchin-Pool/Getty Images)

OPINIONĀteaJuly 18, 2020

Why diversity matters (and no one should need to write this headline in 2020)

Judith Collins and Gerry Brownlee lead out the National caucus after their selections as leader and deputy, July 2020. (Photo: Robert Kitchin-Pool/Getty Images)
Judith Collins and Gerry Brownlee lead out the National caucus after their selections as leader and deputy, July 2020. (Photo: Robert Kitchin-Pool/Getty Images)

People have been writing about what diversity can add to an organisation for literal decades, and yet we find ourselves with two major political party leaders that either can’t or won’t accept some very easy-to-grasp concepts. Gerry and Judith, this is for you.

New National Party leader Judith Collins announced on Wednesday that she would “not be distracted by people’s gender or ethnicity” when looking at a possible reshuffle of her shadow cabinet.

Later that day she repeated a now-infamous question to RNZ: “Is there something wrong with being white?”

The comments came after weeks of scrutiny of National’s all-Pākehā front bench.

Newly-minted deputy Gerry Brownlee doubled down: “I think it’s very interesting when people call out for diversity but at the same time demand competence, and sometimes balancing the two is not easy.”

This supposed trade off is a false dichotomy and, in my opinion, completely racist. It equates white monoculturalism with competence. There’s no other word for it.

The idea that you can’t have both is monstrously easy to disprove.

National has since appointed Dr Shane Reti as its new health spokesperson (replacing the beleaguered Michael Woodhouse) and reinstated Simon Bridges, ensuring that accusations of an all-white front bench can no longer be levelled at them, but neither can accusations of tokenism.

Those appointments make no difference to what I’m about to say. Diversity matters, and it’s a goal to strive for by any means necessary. I’ll break it down as simply as possible.

Why it matters

To quote The Spinoff’s Sam Brooks in a recent piece about National’s lack of openly LGBTQI+ MPs: “If you see yourself represented, whether it’s onscreen or in parliament, you believe you have a right to exist, a right to be heard, a right to be seen.”

This is, fundamentally, the function of representation. To represent. The more diverse the representation, the more people recognise their right to exist. If you have all cis white men on your board/front bench/panel, it’s an implicit endorsement that they are the only ones with authority.

So far, so easy to follow, right?

Diversity is about attraction

The thing about representation in a meritocracy is it’s not just about who you choose but also who you attract. Got no POC, disabled or LGBTI+ members? Then why would they trust you? Why would they choose you?

Gerry Brownlee voted against the Civil Union Bill in 2004, and the Marriage Amendment Act in 2013. At the reading of the former bill he said:

“The question is why one would want to recognise in law a group of people who have said for so long that they want to be recognised as different, but are now saying they want to be treated the same as other people. In my view, the sad fact is – although some will find this difficult to take – they are not the same.”

It’s safe to say Brownlee doesn’t believe the queer community deserves the same rights as everyone else – a community who are already lower in most wellbeing measures than the total population (which, of course, gets worse when you’re talking about trans, POC or disabled people). So where does that leave a smart, talented, ambitious young person with centre-right political aspirations who also happens to be gay? Would they choose a party with an anti-LGBTQI+ leader and no openly queer party members? Probably not. Sure, being gay might not be the thing they most strongly self-identify as (one can’t abide identity politics of course), but few would choose to put themselves in harm’s way either.

Congratulations, you’ve successfully reduced the number of capable candidates that might be available to you.

Equity versus equality

Most of us have seen this very simple, viral cartoon by now, created by Craig Froehle in 2012.

Some people have adapted the visual metaphor, adding a third scenario where there is no fence at all, or where the ground is lower rather than the people being different heights (implying the deficit isn’t in the people but in their circumstances).

Whichever way you look at it, it’s a very simple concept to grasp. So let’s extrapolate into some real word scenarios.

Let’s say the fence is education, and the game being played on the other side is employment. The boxes the kid on the right is standing on might be support in the form of a scholarship, perhaps a Māori liaison or student support group, a grant for new reading glasses from her iwi rūnanga. Her boxes however, keep getting removed too, by the extra hours of study needed not just to meet but to exceed some of her teachers’ low expectations. Another box goes because her family can’t support her financially while she does an internship so she works another job while studying and trying to gain work experience. Another one gets taken away every time her CV goes straight into the ‘no’ pile because she’s a woman or because of her Māori name.

What does that have to do with diverse inclusion? When that kid gets a glimpse over the fence, what’s equally important is what the players on the other side see (or don’t see) – someone who worked twice as hard to get over the fence. And every time they take a chance on that kid, fewer boxes get taken away from the kid coming up behind her.

Everyone loves a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps narrative, but what that actually entails is very different depending on your privilege (which does not mean “born into the lap of luxury'”, it just means that of two people born into poverty, the white privilege of one person will still be an advantage the other doesn’t have).

For one of the best explanations of privilege ever, I also refer you to the now-famous Toby Morris comic On A Plate.

Perspective is an asset

Collins referred to the fact that she preferred “diversity of thought”, arguing it was more important to “be representative rather than look representative”. I agree how you look is irrelevant. How the world treats you, based on how you look, is an entirely different matter.

A producer on a video production I worked on once took a similar attitude to diversity within the crew we were assembling. When we expressed a desire to hire as many people as possible who weren’t Pākehā men, she told us that we would hire “the most qualified person for the job” and it didn’t matter what their gender or background was.

I’ll tell you now all the things I wish I’d said to her then. Experience gives perspective. Perspective is one of the greatest assets you can bring to a job or a project. No two people have the same perspective. Take two camera people with the same qualifications and professional experience. If one is a cis Pākehā man and one is literally anyone else, their experiences in life will have been very different, as will their understanding of what motivates people. This can make all the difference to what will be the focal point in a frame, or the most sensitive way to film a vulnerable scene, or how comfortable the on-camera talent feel in their gaze, or access to certain communities, or how to behave appropriately in different cultural settings.

Shut up and learn

This is very simple – everyone else knows something you don’t know. A “diversity of thought” is not created by people with similar upbringings, who went to similar schools, had similar career paths and speak the same, single language. People who speak another language don’t just know words that you don’t – as every bi-lingual or multi-lingual person will tell you, different languages can express ideas that can’t be expressed in another. It’s a reflection of cultural understanding. Language literally shapes thoughts and ideas, as well as vice versa.

Understanding different cultural models for civic leadership and pedagogy can only make both those systems stronger too. Much like our stubbornly monolingual culture, the Victorian legal and education systems we live under have remained essentially unchanged for 200 years. The world is much bigger than that and the Empire no longer has to dictate our cultural values – but we have to listen to people who aren’t like us to learn how to grow.

How not to do it

This thread describes a scenario many minority activists and academics are familiar with: people contacting the most visible member of a marginalised community they can think of and asking them to be involved in a project they have no experience or knowledge of, so they can say they included a diverse range of voices.

A common outcome when this is the approach is ‘I tried to make my event diverse but everyone I asked said no, it’s not my fault!”

It’s not a box ticking exercise. Being an active Treaty partner or an inclusive organisation takes time – years even. Whether you’re a CEO, the head of a media empire or a political party, diversity needs investment. If you can’t hire diversely for your board or your senior management, then you sure as hell better be investing in internships and development. The returns on that investment (I’m talking about creative and cultural returns) are many – wider appeal, better perspective, access, variety and crucially, wellbeing.

*

It doesn’t take a genius to understand all of these very basic tenets, but it does take a brave person to readjust a lifetime of monocultural thinking.

Lazy slogans like “I don’t see colour” translate to “it’s too much work for me to recognise that your experiences are different from mine”. It erases hard won battle scars, pain, and most importantly, valuable mātauranga. There’s nothing wrong with being white. There is everything wrong with dismissing people’s differences as meaningless when they are the very reason for many unique and wonderful qualities.

Keep going!
Signs lining State Highway One north of Auckland protesting against the proposed landfill in Dome Valley (Alex Braae)
Signs lining State Highway One north of Auckland protesting against the proposed landfill in Dome Valley (Alex Braae)

ĀteaJuly 16, 2020

With a rāhui ignored, opponents of the Dome Valley dump launch hīkoi

Signs lining State Highway One north of Auckland protesting against the proposed landfill in Dome Valley (Alex Braae)
Signs lining State Highway One north of Auckland protesting against the proposed landfill in Dome Valley (Alex Braae)

A campaign against a huge new dump north of Auckland has drawn together a coalition of iwi, local residents and local government. With their rāhui ignored, they’ve decided to send a hīkoi direct to Auckland Council’s door. Alex Braae reports.

For Dame Rangimarie Naida Glavish (Ngāti Whātua), the prospect of pollution reaching the Kaipara Harbour is deeply personal. As someone who was raised on the shores of the harbour, she feels a kaitiaki responsibility to protect it. 

It’s why she’ll be leading a hīkoi in Auckland this Friday against the construction of a new rubbish tip in the Dome Valley on a 1,000-hectare site at the northern end of the Super City. The dump will sit near the Hōteo River which starts around the Wayby Valley, flowing through Dome Valley and out to the Kaipara Harbour – a precious ecosystem for many vulnerable species. It’s set to hold not only household rubbish, but industrial and construction waste as well.

The plan for the dump has caused intense opposition from mana whenua iwi and hapū, particularly Ngāti Whātua. Other local residents have also joined the campaign, along with the entire Kaipara District Council. There’s a mood of anger that their piece of paradise could become a dumping ground for Auckland’s rubbish, and a fear that decisions made now could affect people of the area for generations to come. 

“Dome Valley is just on the boundary border with Auckland,” said Glavish, noting that the recent spate of historic dumps being opened up by heavy rain shows that the rubbish may not stay in place forever. “Not only that, it’s about protecting the earth, protecting Papatūānuku, with the pollutants that go into her.” 

Over the course of the campaign against the dump, Glavish says they’ve been let down by Auckland Council and other local government organisations, along with Waste Management NZ which has the contract for the dump. The campaign alleges they’ve been ignored in favour of bigger organisations with deeper pockets. 

“It’s not as though those who are giving approval at Auckland Council haven’t heard us. They know what we’re thinking, they know what we’re saying, they know what the outcome is. Therefore, it leaves one thinking that perhaps the interest is looking like a dollar.”  

Dame Rangimārie Naida Glavish at her investiture, Ōrākei marae, 10 November, 2018. (Image: Marae)

The plan for the hīkoi was to present a petition against the dump to mayor Phil Goff. However, a mayoral office spokesperson said that hīkoi organisers were advised that the mayor wouldn’t be available to receive the petition and that it would instead be accepted by Council staff. 

In a statement, the spokesperson said that while the mayor supported zero waste goals, in the meantime, “landfills remain a key waste management tool”.

“With regard to Waste Management NZ Limited’s proposal to construct and operate a new regional landfill in Dome Valley, Auckland Council is required by legislation to receive the resource consent applications from Waste Management NZ Ltd, and is currently fulfilling its statutory obligations to consider it. Public consultation concluded on 26 May 2020, and the next step is a hearing.”

Anger at Auckland Council and the Crown has united other hapū in the area. Mikaera Miru from Te Uri O Hau Waiotea Marae in Tinopai said he was furious to hear that Goff wouldn’t be attending to receive the petition and would instead be “sending a flunkie”. 

“What a joke. The mayor is paid a huge salary by the community, and he should be there. If they’re proud of what they’re doing, he would be there.” 

Michelle Carmichael and Mikaera Miru standing in front of the Hōteo River (Image: Alex Braae)

For those participating in the hīkoi, a rāhui being ignored by Auckland Council is another sore point. Glavish says she was disappointed that consideration of a rāhui was flatly refused because it doesn’t have legal standing, even though the Council were happy to lean on the mana of the rāhui placed over the Waitākere Ranges to prevent kauri dieback. 

“This one is the same rāhui as that one. There is no difference in the form of rāhui that one lays, it’s all in the interests of conservation, and the relationship between humankind and the environment we live in.” 

Miru agreed that the concept of a dump is symptomatic of thinking that only prioritises the present over past or future generations. 

“Putting it in holes is just posting it to future generations to deal with. It’s a multi-billion dollar debt that we’re putting on the heads of future generations, and it’s totally unacceptable.” 

Local residents from the Kaipara Flats will also be taking part in the hīkoi under the banner of a group called Fight the Tip. One of the leaders of that group, school teacher Michelle Carmichael, lives on the edge of the Hōteo River just upstream from where the dump would be. She says the area is prone to the sort of flooding that will make managing the effects extremely difficult. 

“The main issue is the water. There’s a big tributary from the site as well, so they want to divert a waterway and it’s quite a significant one that leads down to the Hōteo and then down to the Kaipara. So any breach of it would not be contained. It’d be flowing down those waterways.” 

“When we look at the landfill siting criteria … they’re going against their own criteria. Because it says to avoid waterways, avoid high rainfall areas, avoid unstable land, avoid at-risk flora and fauna, and avoid aquifers. You have all of those here on this site. It doesn’t make sense,” says Carmichael.   

Waste Management NZ for its part has made it clear that the dump will have linings and safeguards in place to prevent leaching and leakage. But getting a clear answer for how long those protections would last hasn’t been easy for Carmichael who says she’s heard five different figures. Besides, even if it’s decades or more than a century before anything leaks, Carmichael says that’s fundamentally not the point. “I’ve had someone say to me that it doesn’t matter because it won’t be in our lifetime,” she says, throwing her hands up in disbelief. 

Volunteers cleaning up landfill rubbish from 1313 ha of the Fox and Cook rivers, along 64km of the South Westland coastline. Photo: South Westland Coastal Cleanup Facebook

Part of the issue for those campaigning against the dump is that they’re up against a bewildering array of bureaucracy and split responsibilities across different local government organisations. Carmichael has a box of more than 4,000 pages worth of documents relating to the issue, which Miru calls the “box of bullshit”. 

A major point of contention for campaigners is whether there’s been genuine engagement from Waste Management NZ with their concerns. Those against the dump say it’s been shallow and insufficient. In a statement, the company says it’s been “pleased to engage with iwi, including Ngāti Manuhiri, Ngāti Rango, Ngā Maunga Whakahii, Te Uri o Hau and Te Rūnanga o Ngāti Whātua, as well as presenting to a range of people at various local community groups”.

“At the time the rāhui was placed on the site in June 2019, we were already proactively consulting with multiple iwi including Ngāti Manuhiri and Ngāti Whātua. 

“Following the rāhui placed by Mr Miru, we have attempted several times to meet with him and also Ms Carmichael of Fight the Tip, which they have not wanted to do. We respect their decision.” 

One local politician Miru and Carmichael have a lot of time for though is Kaipara District mayor Dr Jason Smith who’ll be speaking at the hīkoi on Friday. Smith says that normally, Auckland Council and Kaipara District Council would stand “shoulder to shoulder” on the need to clean up the harbour, including a recent $100 million restoration project announced by the prime minister.

“The thing is, we’re all working so hard, person by person right now, to restore those waterways. So it’s kind of that awful double standard.”

Speaking about his fellow Kaipara councillors, Smith says they’re “all very concerned about what is quite frankly an unacceptable risk to the environment, to the Kaipara moana. And the documents of the proposers don’t give assurances beyond 150 years, regarding waterways and the integrity of the lining system. The risk of poisoning to the Kaipara Harbour is, to me, unacceptable.” 

Smith says that under the legislation, councils have to take future environmental risks into account, and the dump carries “a long shadow.” It might be five generations into the future that those risks manifest themselves, but that’s the same amount of time that Smith’s family has lived in Kaipara. 

“The problems that we’ve all seen with the small landfills on the West Coast … [you take those] problems and magnify them a thousand-fold, for the nasty chemicals and the quantities that will be in the proposed landfill. And you have to say: just don’t do that to the Kaipara,” says Smith.

“For Ngāti Whātua to be saying this is a major issue in one of the central tributaries in the Hōteo River, their view is a very long view. People sit up to take notice.”

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