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Image: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller
Image: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller

OPINIONOpinionNovember 3, 2022

Why is Wellington so determined to paint everything grey?

Image: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller
Image: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller

If Wellington City Council wants a beautiful city, it should stop wasting money on erasing good graffiti and arresting artists and fund some creativity instead, a concerned citizen writes.

Wellington City Council has declared the need for “a new proactive approach” to managing graffiti. The call was announced to the public last month in a Stuff article referencing Pork, a Wellington tagger and street artist whose work goes back 20-odd years. In the article, the council decried Wellington’s perceived tagging epidemic; young hooligans painting amok because Pork’s tagging has given them a taste of the devil. As a young person involved in Wellington street art, I wholeheartedly agree with that assessment. 

The word graffiti originates from the Latin word “graffio” which refers to carvings and markings on ancient Roman archeological sites. Countless studies of graffiti show its immense educational, political and historical value, providing insights into dominant culture, political engagement and civil unrest. This is what’s being painted over every day in Wellington under this new approach, without documentation of what’s been erased. White vans patrol the city, searching for colour to make grey.

A grey answer to a yellow question. Graffiti is painted over in the streets of Wellington. (Photo: Supplied)

These patrols are paid for by the same Wellington City Council that sports its own street art web page, with a guide for famous murals and commissioned street art around the city. The site declares Wellington to be “famous for a vibrant creative culture” and “a cosmopolitan city with an energetic personality”. As if this could be said of a city void of street art, a landscape of grey paint and advertising billboards. Perhaps this description ought to reflect the curators, scholars and quiet, starkly lit galleries the city has to offer. 

In July of 2018, Auckland Council spent $20m on graffiti eradication, Stuff reports. WCC is less transparent about its spending but, whatever the budget, I call for it to be re-allocated to funding free community art spaces. Such spaces are currently underfunded and overfilled by aspiring, often under-privileged artists, with many on waiting lists eager for an outlet. 

In Stockholm, Sweden, a 36-metre-long wall specifically allocated for graffiti artists enhances the city.  JONATHAN NACKSTRAND/AFP/Getty Images)

A reflection of the times

Studies show that graffiti statistically increases in times of unrest, and with a cost of living crisis and inadequate or unaffordable housing, an increase in graffiti should come as no shock. From Ancient Pompeii to modern day Ukraine, Palestine and Aotearoa, this ancient art form is a communication and political engagement strategy, used to create beauty in anguish, speak truth to power, and to lash out at governments funnelling money into punishing you for feeling punished.

A Gisborne statue of  Captain James Cook was installed in 1969 and has been a popular canvas for graffiti artists. (Photo: supplied)

This “new proactive approach” involves heavy-handed policing of minor crimes in impoverished urban communities. We’re told that this strategy will soon reduce crime. That branding urban community members as criminals, for things like graffiti, loitering and public drinking, will create a happier, more beautiful city environment and make it all better. But it just keeps getting worse. Reports of “new crackdowns” in urban communities have been appearing since forever. There’s only so much you can take away from a community before it has nothing to lose. 

A 2010 report showed that it costs the New Zealand taxpayer $249.25 per day for each person in prison. That’s a whole lot of money to spend on cavity searches, court proceedings, incarceration and lifelong criminal records for young people who want to paint. I know a few people who have served time for graffiti – all of them have painful and expensive health issues, limited job opportunities and are renters. Every one of them grew up poor, and had traumatic experiences with the police before they were 16. People like to frame tagging like it’s some gangsta proverbial. When really, from what I’ve seen, it’s born out of the need to accomplish something. 

Self-esteem for $14.50

Street art gives troubled youth the opportunity, and the agency, to do something big and praiseworthy. People use this point to dismiss graffiti, like it’s some ego boost for kids that already have everything. When you get told you’re a drop kick all the time, when you don’t feel safe at home, going out with your mates and buying some cans for $14.50 from Bunnings, listening to music and making your name into a mural is a pretty effective way of showing yourself that you are capable of something. But then you have to run back and rack out another 14.50 before the tag’s even done. Not so gangsta.

The will to make change doesn’t go away just because you don’t have the education, the trust fund, or the suit and tie to be in government. Dropkicks and taggers, we want to improve things too.

A win/win solution

Erasing our attempts to be seen isn’t helping – in fact it only makes the tagging worse. Quick coverups breed shoddy graffiti. I too have noticed a spike in poorly-executed tags around the CBD. I noticed them rise alongside the militant eradication tactics. We need community-driven mitigation of street art. A third party liaison trusted by both taggers and with government agents. This could allow for the negotiation of street art content and placement between local council and taggers. 

Not all graffiti is great graffiti. (Photo: Supplied)

Liaison officers could do contract work in this field, working with council to agree on walls for street art. They could document harmful graffiti for the council and cover-ups would be redirected to taggers, who could be paid for the service. This would give taggers a healthy alternative to the job they already do for free, instead of paying people who couldn’t care less. Across the literature on tagging, several studies mention the use of grey paint. This can’t be a coincidence. Why does everything have to be grey?

All this cracking down in the name of protecting community from harm, meanwhile white supremacist stickers are everywhere in the CBD and the only people covering them up are taggers, the only people reporting on them being kids on Twitter. Anti-vax propaganda billboards were propped up in the hottest spots around the city for months while the council ignored public pleas for removal. The public I know felt more offended, more vandalised by those billboards than by any Briscoes tagging. A cluster of billboards in the CBD with links to medical disinformation, autism denial and coded antisemitism? That’s vandalism. It was harmful to the public. Yet nothing was done because somebody paid for it.

According to the Police website, there were 767 reported police proceedings on the matter of graffiti in the last two years, with Māori and Pasifika making up 48.2% of defendants, despite making up 25.5% of the population. Of these proceedings, 459 resulted in court action or sentencing, 55.7% of those charged being Māori or Pasifika. And all in the name of protecting community.

I’m not saying harmful graffiti doesn’t happen, but lifelong criminal records and racist, lazy policing causes more harm to the community than any tagger ever has or will. Nothing makes a person want to do graffiti more than a night in the cells – if you were trapped in a concrete hellhole, might you not want to decorate it?

Keep going!
Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)
Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)

OPINIONĀteaNovember 1, 2022

The alcohol licensing system has failed communities for years. It has to change

Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)
Māngere East local Shirl’e Fruean protests a proposed bottle store, March 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif; Design: Tina Tiller)

Responding to years of outcry, the government is planning an overhaul of the way liquor licences are granted. Emily Worman, Grant Hewison and the team at Communities Against Alcohol Harm explain why change is so desperately needed.

Mereana Peka is a respected Māori warden who has been working hard to reduce alcohol related harm in Tāmaki ki te Tonga (South Auckland) for decades. Like her mother before her, Mereana takes her duties concerning alcohol related harm, set out in the Māori Community Development Act of 1962, very seriously.

Across the country, the evidence is clear on the harm  alcohol does in the streets and in our homes. Put simply, it’s all about too much access to alcohol. The easier it is to get alcohol, the more harm we see or experience. That’s why Mereana is passionate about stopping the proliferation of alcohol outlets.

Since May 2021, the Turehou Māori Wardens ki Ōtara Charitable Trust has submitted 66 objections to alcohol licence applications and sat through five District Licensing Committee (DLC) hearings. How many times do you think those objections have been fully upheld by the DLC?

Only once.

With our support, Mereana successfully convinced the DLC that a new Thirsty Liquor on Bairds Road in Ōtara wasn’t a good idea. The fact that all three regulatory agencies also opposed a brand new liquor store in this location added significant weight to her opposition. What about the other 65 objections? Some are waiting in the system, a few have encouraged applicants to withdraw, and she has had some success with slightly stronger conditions imposed and variations withdrawn. The majority are approved.

Often, she has to fight being “struck out” as the alcohol industry lawyers argue she shouldn’t have the right to object at all. Currently, the Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act 2012 requires potential objectors to show that they have a greater interest in the liquor licence application than the public generally.

Members of Communities Against Alcohol Harm protesting outside a liquor store in Ōtara, July 2021. (Photo: Justin Latif)

Alcohol industry applicants, including the supermarkets, work hard to successfully strike out objectors on the basis that they live too far away or there is a main road between where they reside and the liquor outlet. Sometimes this leads potential objectors to withdraw. In having to provide their residential address, other objectors have been put off due to privacy concerns. Some objectors report being approached by applicants at their homes to discuss their objections instead of through the formal channels.

If it’s hard for individual members of the public to object, perhaps community groups will have better luck? Not likely. In February 2019, for example, the Gisborne-based Māori group Ka Pai Kaiti had their objection to a new liquor store struck out by the Alcohol Regulatory and Licensing Authority (ARLA) because they didn’t have standing, despite their deep connection to the local community. The same year, ARLA also concluded that our group, Communities Against Alcohol Harm, did not have a greater interest than the public generally. This ARLA decision means groups like us, who are motivated and organised, cannot object to liquor licence applications. Even local members of parliament, local councillors and local boards have had their objections challenged.

This is hard mahi and it wasn’t meant to be this way. The Sale and Supply of Alcohol Act had good intentions. It was written in a way that allowed the community voice to be heard. Miserably, due to the influence and role of the alcohol industry, what we have now is a highly litigious environment that inhibits community participation. This is largely due to the rights of cross-examination included in the act which allow lawyers to cross-examine objectors.

This is why we exist. CAAH navigates objectors through the process and we do everything we can to prepare them for hearings, and protect them during the hearing itself. We are a very small group of largely volunteers. Our heart is in South Auckland, we have a committed group in Ōtautahi, and we have supported objectors in Gisborne, Tokoroa, Hamilton, Southland and Northland to navigate these highly legalistic processes.

‘He mea tautoko nā ngā mema atawhai. Supported by our generous members.’
Liam Rātana
— Ātea editor

We welcome justice minister Kiri Allen’s announcement that the government plans to change the law to make it easier to object to new liquor stores. We want to see more everyday people participating in this process. Their love for and knowledge of their own communities should not be tested by the alcohol industry.

In drafting the new legislation, minister Allan might like to look to the Resource Management Act 1991 for inspiration. That act includes a section requiring that hearings avoid unnecessary formality and recognise tikanga Māori; cross-examination of objectors is not permitted. These provisions were deliberately included to ensure RMA hearings are welcoming environments for community submitters.

We trust that local people understand their community the best. We are relieved to hear that the proposed changes to the act would remove the ability to appeal Local Alcohol Policies (LAPs), which allow local communities to decide on where and when alcohol is sold in their neighbourhood. The current appeals process is costing councils and ratepayers millions in legal fees, as alcohol companies and supermarkets have thwarted efforts by local communities and their councils to limit the sale of alcohol in their communities.

In Auckland, a provisional LAP has been in the appeal process for seven years, at a cost to the council of more than $1 million in legal fees. The matter is currently before the Supreme Court. There are similar stories in Wellington, Christchurch and Hamilton, where councils have abandoned their efforts to put in place LAPs after facing legal opposition from the supermarkets. Many councils, including the four largest authorities accounting for half of the total population, have halted or abandoned their efforts to implement LAPs.

This has increased the gap between community expectations for greater control over the availability of alcohol, and the legislation that was meant to achieve that.

The entrenched, powerful and extremely well-resourced alcohol industry (especially the supermarket duopoly) have fought tooth and nail to preserve and expand their alcohol licences so they can sell and supply more alcohol, including to very vulnerable communities. Right now, standing up to the alcohol industry is very much a David versus Goliath struggle for community objectors like Mereana. For us, change cannot come soon enough.


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