A summer trip through the Waitaki
Last week we trundled up and down the Waitaki Valley. We were heading off to an early family Christmas gathering, and coming home for a carols session in quick time. Somehow an ice cream seemed like a good idea. It melted, dripping not too far from a bed of Californian poppies ruffling away in bloom, and in the distance water-skiers shot along behind willow-shaded camping set-ups. Separate stops for swims and a spot of cricket also seemed suddenly in order. They were set in scenes of the Benmore, St Cuthbert and Kirkleston in mottles of browns, and barely a snow upon the Hawkdun or St Mary. Scenes, quite by surprise, of summer.
These are kinds of moments, no doubt experienced by many, when one is caught wondering where the year has gone, and simultaneously feeling exhausted by it.
It only takes a moment to register why the latter. For me a good part of the year went into dealing with some illness, founding a law firm (on which more another time), Federated Mountain Clubs work and these efforts.
These efforts started as a fun challenge. They took their title from a phrase that induced delightful eye rolls from friends years ago. They were something to help get through winter evenings when more Curb Your Enthusiasm got too much, and also something to help distil lessons from a long stint at a great though intense job with Environmental Law Initiative (who just won another case and remain undefeated through nearly five years’ work). More than all that, they were also an outlet for curiosity - what would one end up writing down if one gave oneself this kind of space and time?
After 15 or more efforts, they have continued as all of that. But even better they have proven to be a chance for conversations with readers – many who I didn’t know or know much previously. In truth only a few have “gone deep” but many have nibbled, and to them I say: keep nibbling.
Thanks to those who have engaged, and long may it continue and with any luck grow. If you’re one on one end of an email exchange, in which I am probably owing, let’s switch it over to a Zoom or even better a yarn in person before too long. And finally on this note, as usual I extend the invitation to readers to be in touch - and please also think about whether to extend the invitation to anyone you know who might appreciate it too.
Lately I took what felt like a vulnerable step in publicly thinking-out-loud about the Treaty Principles Bill saga. This is something I know a bit but not much about, and am not so articulate about as many others. I chose to go there because it feels like a conversation close to themes of belonging somewhere, and because lots of people feel afraid or like they’re not in a position to take a similar step. I also chose to because even through all the noise, it sounds to me like most are prepared to have a conversation with generosity-of-spirit, even if sometimes very strong views: in other words, there is positive and unfulfilled potential in all this.
In a first attempt to discuss these issues, I worked through a very narrow slice which I have spent some time with over the years. I went through a Supreme Court case called Ngai Tai, which centred on a strong but vague treaty clause: section 4 of the Conservation Act 1987. I tried to think about the case in terms of legal certainty: did and does section 4 offer enough certainty? What about the case itself? How much is ‘enough’ certainty? And if waiting for case-by-case determinations up to and including from the Supreme Court is bad enough, would anyone – Māori or otherwise – benefit from efforts to more closely articulate the applicable principles in legislation? I’m not sure about any of that.
In a second effort I tried to address issues of disposition to the other. David Seymour has attracted a lot of criticism for his Bill, usually along lines that he is stoking division for political gain. I was and am more ambivalent about guessing his motivation. What if simply believes in what he is saying? And if that’s the case, what is he saying, exactly? Are we sure we know? Is he?
For my little part, I suggested that those New Zealanders cultivating the national conversation would do well to follow the apparent example of many at the Hikoi mo ti Triti, extending towards others voluntarily, with positivity, a respect for past and future, recognising that all want to feel they belong down here (indeed they need to). As such, it still seems possible to me to offer almost all opponents, proponents and holders of any other view on the Bill a generosity of spirit, a capacity to be surprised, and some effort at understanding.
Unworkable? Naïve? My suggestion was to make a little act of foolish renunciation – to try anyway. Perhaps amusingly, this is just like the principle of utmost good faith.
In the last effort I tried to think about how many ways of knowing could contribute to a national wānanga. “Reason” seems to be the only way of knowing that many think acceptable in the discussion. And reason, of course, is absolutely necessary. But is it sufficient? I’m not sure it is. The Treaty Principles Bill and associated discussion is very abstracted and universal in character. It often admits only an impoverished version of “reason” in the realm of “rationality”. This seems to be issue for many Māori - or at very least just demonstrably taking things nowhere fast. As such even if we think it raises fair questions, it doesn’t look like the Bill can be a way forward. What if anything can other paths like intuition or imagination offer the discussion?
None of my efforts to date have been about the substance of the issues at stake in the national wānanga. It seems to me that these issues come down to something like:
What the principles are and who gets to define them (which I called issues of “nouns” a while back); and
Who does and ought to tell us how they apply (which I called issues of “verbs” a while back.
They way the two sets of issues above relate, and
Whether we approach these as legal or other kinds of questions.
Thanks to a friend who pointed out this excellent summary of the issues from Ross Stitt. It’s one of the better ones going around, which among many other things to recommend it, pointed some of the ways these two sets of issues run together. More work along these lines, clarifying the questions, would be a good thing.
Hanging off talking about the substance seems like it may have frustrated some of the small and long suffering readership here. I imagine that for some hanging off has made these efforts seem evasive, or perhaps just like ivory-tower pontification, aka drivel. Or maybe to some it has been confusing, given how many have rushed in the substance of the issues, or just given the limits of my abilities.
A confession is that I don’t know exactly what I think about all of these questions, although I have an idea about many of them. Of course one man’s view matters not a jot anyway. But a well-cultivated public discussion seems to me like the best and perhaps the only way to help people clarify the questions and allow them to work through things. So even if I was surer, I would ask “why the rush?” After all, how we talk is often as important as what we talk about.
Taking it slow on issues of substance doesn’t mean never getting there. But it’s 19 December, and these issues need a lot of care, energy and time to adequately discuss, let alone read about.
So today I’ll finish these efforts for the year by repeating thanks for your interest in Brenty’s Two Cents this year. Merry Christmas to all, and I hope some of us will get to talk in 2025.
AB
19 December 2024