spinofflive
(Image: Lauren Stewart/Daylight)
(Image: Lauren Stewart/Daylight)

PartnersAugust 16, 2023

Digital tech, the climate crisis and New Zealand’s slow start

(Image: Lauren Stewart/Daylight)
(Image: Lauren Stewart/Daylight)

A wave of digital sustainability innovation will sweep through in the next 20 years, but New Zealand is lagging on the uptake and creation of digital sustainability tools, says the University of Auckland Business School’s Ilan Oshri.

New Zealand, according to Ilan Oshri, director of the Centre of Digital Enterprise (CODE) at the University of Auckland’s Business School, is in something of a bind. That the systems that underpin the world of business and enterprise need to change in response to – and mitigation of – a changing climate is in no doubt. And in Aotearoa, Oshri says, where the economic landscape is dominated by small-to-medium-sized enterprises highly reliant on working with each other and with overseas counterparts, that change will need to be underpinned by partnership – something he says is “far more important [here] than in other countries”. “Unfortunately,” he says, “New Zealand companies are not so great when it comes to partnership.”

With the goal of assessing just how ready – or not, as the case may be – New Zealand and its Asia Pacific peers are for the coming challenges, Oshri and CODE, in partnership with Tata Consultancy Services, last year published the Digital Sustainability Index. The concept of digital sustainability, says Oshri, is “a big umbrella… saying that basically any digital asset should be considered as a tool” in the fight for sustainability. The Index itself, based on the responses of 250 organisations around Asia Pacific, is a way to “understand the relative readiness of countries and organisations to marry digital with sustainability”. 

And on that front, Oshri says, New Zealand is unfortunately, “lagging when it comes to the analysis that we have done”. Part of what the country can do to redress that lag, will be to get over what Oshri calls “a kind of a Kiwi syndrome” – our propensity to look inwards for solutions and to distrust those from outside or abroad. “We’ll have to accept that there is an opportunity here to take on solutions that exist in the market and adopt them to start doing this properly.” To trust, in other words, in the benefits of partnership.

The country will be guided in its transition by top-down directives, particularly in the case of net zero ambitions, which has been the initial sustainability focus for many companies around the world: 33%, Oshri says, have set up net zero goals. From January 24 next year, around 200 New Zealand entities – banks, insurers, large publicly listed companies – will be legally required by the External Reporting Board (XRB) to report their carbon emissions, including those that come from offshore supply chains. Because of the nature of the New Zealand economy and those it interacts with, this may prove difficult. “Some countries,” he says, “particularly in Asia, we will find it’s going to be a lot more challenging to get accurate reporting on their emissions.” And, as he says, the rational jumping off point for digital sustainability has to be the deployment of digital tools in the measuring of environmental impact. “First of all, measure. Then manage. Then obviously understand what kind of performance you can deduct from that.”

The real change, he says, will need to come from within organisations themselves. “The struggle is always that existing enterprises have to basically accommodate sustainability into a very fixed mindset that has been driven by profit margins on a quarterly basis for many years.” Often sustainability is yet to be organically folded into the processes of business – and in many cases clashes with financial objectives, in which case the tendency is usually to revert to how things have customarily been done. “In most cases,” Oshri says, based on his interviews with the boards of international blue chip companies, “you will try to meet your business KPI and go soft on your sustainability KPI. Hardly any organisation will give you a bonus for meeting your sustainability KPI; you will get a bonus for meeting your business KPI.” Given the scale of the changes needed, Oshri admits that’s “not very promising. It should change and hopefully it will.”

That shift is being seen in companies and sectors across Aotearoa that are beginning to align with more concrete sustainable outcomes – and realising this doesn’t always come in the way of profit. In fact, for innovators in this space, digital sustainability is an industry ripe with opportunities to make large-scale change.

And New Zealand has had huge success with this type of innovation. It’s creating products and services that add to the Internet of Things (IoT), and using emerging tech to solve challenging problems, from the monitoring of livestock to AI that could help flood management efforts.

For New Zealand to truly get on the digital sustainability boat, we need to find the balance between continuing to innovate in this space, and more readily adopting the relevant technology that has already been created overseas.

One of the barriers to the wide scale uptake of these technologies is its current high cost – but Oshri doesn’t think this will stay a barrier forever.

For now, the digital solutions available are what Oshri terms “emerging”. It is just in the last three years that the majority of the world, he says, has begun its journey towards net zero emissions, and the tools that may aid in the fight for sustainability in the future, “AI and so on… it is probably five or six years down the road that we will see those tools coming into effect.” In that longer term, though, Oshri does see cause for optimism. The pandemic years, with its “massive spike” in the digital transformation of businesses as they moved en masse to the cloud, offers something of a roadmap for a future in which digital solutions are applied to the problems of sustainability. “The emergence of clean tech is going to create basically a whole new line of innovations that are in and of themselves technologies that are designed to be clean. And that will basically build a whole wave of innovation that will be dominating the globe, I guess, in the next 20 years or so. Not currently, because currently these are startups, but in 20 years time they’re going to be the next Google or the next Apple.

“That’s where I’m optimistic that we are going to see prosperity coming from sustainability.”

Keep going!
(Image: Getty, additional design: Tina Tiller)
(Image: Getty, additional design: Tina Tiller)

SocietyAugust 15, 2023

‘There’s no rehab’: Two tales of rural drug use, and the barriers to help

(Image: Getty, additional design: Tina Tiller)
(Image: Getty, additional design: Tina Tiller)

Rural people who use drugs are a diverse group, but they face a lot of similar problems. Don Rowe investigates the barriers to seeking help experienced by users in isolated communities.

Small rural communities in New Zealand can sometimes feel like worlds of their own. The attitudes of the big cities don’t always track with opinions out in the regions. Day-to-day concerns in Murupara are very different to those in Mt Eden. And complex behaviours like drug use can create unique problems with difficult solutions. 

Isolation, poverty and a lack of care services mean users who run into trouble often struggle to find help, and lower numbers of police have implications for enforcement and community support. The drug of choice is different too: small rural towns like Ōpōtiki and Wairoa have the highest rate of methamphetamine use per person in the country, up to double the national average. 

Molly* grew up in West Auckland before moving to the Bay of Plenty, where she partied mainly in sheds and the occasional paddock. Sometimes a friend would have a “cool parent” who would let them drink inside. 

“At first it was just weed and bourbon, but the pills started coming in when I was 15 or 16,” she says. “It started with party pills that older siblings would buy but it moved into ecstasy pretty quickly after that. 

Let’s talk about drugs (Image: Tina Tiller)

“For a couple of years the quality of the pills seemed quite good, but then busts happened and the pills got quite nasty, smelling like chlorine and bleach. People turned against pills and you saw a lot more powder and various things masquerading as MDMA or just being sold as 2C-B. Powders were more trustworthy, supposedly.”

There was poor literacy around drugs, she says. In the city, there was a higher chance someone’s parents had used drugs and knew what to look out for. But in smaller rural towns, the drug of choice was a crate of beer, and there was no generational knowledge about harm potential.

“When meth came on the scene there wasn’t an older generation to give advice, just teenagers talking to each other. Nobody used Facebook or Snapchat. Young people in rural communities often aren’t reading the news either and their information mostly comes from each other. So there was no understanding of drug testing at all. 

“Because they weren’t touched in the same way by overdoses, these smaller communities have a false sense of security and basically they think they’re fine. A drug is a drug; if it gets me high, what’s the problem? If I’m laughing and giggling, it must be acid.”

Rural isolation meant that drug-driving was rife, she says. When there are no buses, taxis or parents to pick you up, users get behind the wheel, encouraged by the low chance of driving through a police checkpoint and fewer other drivers on the road. 

“You start to think, ‘The worst thing I can hit is a cow’, which obviously isn’t true.” 

Small rural communities also provide unique challenges when things go wrong. Word travels fast, and reputational problems quickly create big problems, Molly says.

“When meth became more prevalent, the stigma grew. If someone was using meth in a small town and everyone was talking about it, you didn’t want to be associated with them even if they’re your friends. Because then everyone in town thinks that you’re using meth too, and they’re not going to hire you on their farm, and you very quickly can become isolated. I associated with people who used meth and to some people there is still a black mark on my name in that town. And there’s not a lot of sympathy or help. What help could you even get to them? There’s no rehab.” 

(Image: Getty/Archi Banal)

A lack of comprehensive care in rural communities has long been recognised by academics. Geographic isolation, economies of scale, a lack of GPs and comparatively high levels of deprivation mean accessing rehabilitation and mental health support is difficult, particularly for Māori. Leslynn Jackson, project manager at Manaaki Tairāwhiti, says whānau face a wide range of obstacles in finding help when dealing with addiction.

“Accessing treatment out of the region comes with a huge cost, and I don’t mean financially. The cost of leaving your children behind if you don’t have a safe place for them to be cared for, the cost of moving out of your rental, the cost of not being available for shifts at work. There are a whole lot of reasons that people who want treatment can’t access it.”

Adding to these barriers is a lack of information about the availability of services, she says. Whānau living rurally don’t necessarily know what help is out there and struggle with their addictions in private. In other cases, services are siloed or culturally inappropriate.

Stigma towards drug use also affects Māori more than Pākehā, Molly says. Rural communities across New Zealand were decimated following the neoliberal reforms of the 1980s and 90s, and many whānau found their economic situation suddenly dire. Predominantly Pākehā farmers and landowners suffered less, and retained a level of wealth that insulated them from the harsher consequences of poverty like addiction. Whānau who deal with addiction can be ostracised and struggle to find employment.

“A Pākehā farmer in Galatea doesn’t want to employ a young Māori guy from Murupara because there are those horrible stereotypes around methamphetamine and getting ripped off. The farming world is so small and if you’re known as a drug user, everyone knows, and you can’t get employed. Now you’re on the dole, and all you have left to do is meth. People start doing whatever they have to do in order to get it. They steal loads of firewood and sell it in town, get a bag, and everyone knows who did it and why. Once you’re shunned, you’re shunned.” 

Image: Getty Images/Tina Tiller/The Spinoff

Rural addicts, Molly says, become increasingly isolated. There’s not a lot to do besides hunting and fishing, and boredom itself can create an aggravating factor in usage. 

“The boredom can get quite extreme. It contributes a lot to the mental health crisis that these communities experience. It also means that when you’re just trying to get a buzz, it doesn’t matter so much what the drug is, which is a dangerous place to be.”

Divides around race and class are common factors in attitudes to drug use in the rest of the country. Where a business analyst who snorts cocaine in the Viaduct just likes to party, the same behaviour in Kawerau is seen as delinquency. Sarah* grew up in Nelson and went to university in the North Island before living rurally to take up vineyard work. There were the usual party drugs at uni, and weed, booze and MDMA.

“I was never concerned,” she says. “It wasn’t until people started to bring meth to parties later on that I really got spooked. I knew we had a problem in New Zealand but I’d never known anybody who had ever taken it. But the way people think about drugs here is different.

“There are a lot of rich vineyard owners with kids in their 20s where I am, and there is a certain level of privilege. A large part of my job is driving tractors and operating machinery and using drugs is not something you’d like your boss to know about, but it’s an open secret and you know that if the company tested workers you’d lose half of your operators. It’s pushed under the rug.”

Now living and working near Blenheim, Sarah says people would be shocked at the amount of drugs moving through the “gateway between North and South”. Drugs like cocaine and MDMA flow outwards from the port, as well as methamphetamine and LSD. They’re all popular, but being known as a user has vastly different consequences.

“Drugs like cocaine don’t have the same stigma as methamphetamine. If your boss finds out you’re smoking weed or using cocaine it’s not going to be such a big deal as if you are smoking meth, even though there are a lot of real estate agents and other professionals who use methamphetamine. 

“Then if you don’t have a job, you’re more likely to get hooked. And if you can’t afford rehab or you don’t have access to rehab, it’s much more difficult to escape the lifestyle.”