Collectiveness at it most potent has been called asabiyya by macrohistorian and cliodynamicist Peter Turchin. At its least potent, collectiveness is a recipe for social division, top-heaviness, escalating inequality, and societal breakdown.

The present ‘debates’ in Aotearoa New Zealand – ostensibly about Te Tiriti, the Treaty of Waitangi – represent a case in point. Increased bipartisanship festers, with the two sides largely talking past each other.

Pre-contact indigenous culture in Aotearoa New Zealand can be characterised as on the collectivist side of the collective-individual spectrum, at least with respect to tribal Iwi; whereas anglo-celtic culture was and is much more individualist. The protagonists on the Māori side of our present governance-wars are rhetorically harking back to the more collectivist worldview of their ancestral predecessors. And they are indulging in forms of co-sovereignty rhetoric that border on separate governance, without much explanation of what that means for individual Aotearoans.

One aspect of the more collectivist conceptual apparatus is the language, Te Reo. There is no explicit plural form. The word Māori covers Māori as a collective (or as a set of tribal collectives) and Māori as a set of individuals. While non-Māori used to refer to Māori as ‘Maoris’, this is simply not done in polite circles anymore. (I remember in 1984, how the leader of the “New Zelland Party” used to refer to “the Marries”.) Yet I do it here, as a way to emphasise my differentiation of collective Māori from individual ‘Maoris’.

In addition to pre-contact cultural differences in relation to the collective-individual spectrum, the established political Left and the established political Right (at least as we understand those terms in Aotearoa New Zealand; the United States has muddied those waters) define themselves through that spectrum. So Māori on the Left of politics have two predispositions towards collectivism. (Here we must note that the present ‘sovereignty debate’ is at least as much a debate within Māori as between Māori and non-Māori; the principal antagonists as well as the principal protagonists are conspicuously Māori. Twenty-first century Māori culture is by no means as collectivist as the rhetoric of the protagonists conveys; the divisions are Left versus Right, with a cultural overlay.)

Vertical Equity and ‘Targeting’; trickle-down or micro-management

Vertical equity is not a liberal concept (refer to my To be (a) liberal). Whereas horizontal equity means ‘treating equals equally’ – a concept central to (individualist) liberalism – vertical equity means ‘treating unequals unequally’. Discrimination. The liberals of the political Right, who emphasise the targeting of social services and public income distribution, square this illiberal circle by emphasising policies which solely target ‘need’; not race nor religion, not sex nor gender.

The political ‘progressives’ of the Left emphasise a collective form of targeting, but cannot (or refuse to) individualise this. Thus they may advocate more resources for Māori (and often tag-on Pasifika) and more resources for women; but they avoid any korero about individual discrimination.

At Budget-time, we have routinely heard the claim that there is not enough provision in the Budget – the government’s annual fiscal statement – for Māori. Perhaps less so from 2018 to 2022. But what does that mean? Resources for Māori? Or for ‘Maoris’?

The collectivist approach mandates that discrimination happens at the top-level of political society; at the governance level. Thus bureaucracies are created or extended – including governmental ‘entities’, and indeed ‘non-governmental’ entities (which nevertheless depend on government mandates) – which are openly discriminatory in their intent.

Discrimination in favour of an allegedly disadvantaged identity is justified through a process of leverage. Statistics are gathered from individuals and coded according to attributes – especially ethnicity, sex or gender, and health status; age and religion are less fashionable at present. The never unexpected results are then presented to justify forms of collective discrimination in the political process. Predictably, the incomes of ‘Maoris’ are lower on average than the incomes of ‘non-Maoris’, and female incomes are lower on average than male incomes.

The aim of this political process is not to remove these statistical differences. Rather it is to justify and extend identity bureaucracies – indeed to create advocacy ‘industries’ around such statistical differences – in such a way that there is a large suite of highly-paid jobs available to highlight these inequalities of averages. Such political theatre typically generates much heat and very little actionable ‘light’.

Essentially, what is supposed to happen is that much resource goes into these funded governance structures, and it is meant to trickle-down to the leverage group of disadvantaged people. The result in practice is that Left governments consume large slices of the national income, while achieving very little for the disadvantaged groups ostensibly being served. Trickle-down never worked. Instead the result is too much political superstructure and too little ballast. Government becomes top-heavy.

(These same principles apply to the under-provision – and particularly the lack of maintenance – of physical infrastructure as well. Hence all the water leaks from neglected pipes, and potholes across the roading network; pipes are ballast, and potholes are examples of missing ballast. Gold-plated schemes are created and discarded.)

Policies which benefit ‘Maoris’

The disconnect between the Treaty Māori and the leaders of the present government, is that the present leaders have an individualist mindset which means the parties talk past each other. Chrisopher Luxon genuinely wants to improve life for ‘Maoris’. Problems arise because his philosophical approach of targeting the needy – disproportionately ‘Maoris’ – has its own bureaucratic short-comings; and because his understandings of public finance are medieval (in the better sense of that word), and because he is a mercantilist at heart. Mr Luxon equates national progress with ‘making money’, with the accrual of financial wealth.

Nevertheless, and despite his philosophical blindspots, Luxon is correct to emphasise that expanding discriminatory superstructure is part of the problem, rather than a solution, to the statistical disadvantages used to justify that superstructure. Christoper Luxon and David Seymour clearly understand that effective direct support for the disadvantaged will disproportionately assist ‘Maoris’, because Maoris are disproportionately disadvantaged. Further, direct assistance also provides support for disadvantaged ‘non-Maoris’, who are no more nor less deserving. Indeed – and given the practical Ministry of Health definition of who is a ‘Maori’ – there are more disadvantaged ‘non-Maoris’ in Aotearoa New Zealand than disadvantaged ‘Maoris’ (because ‘Maoris’ represent perhaps twenty percent of that database of individual Aoteroans).

Collectivism and Individualism

As Stephen Joyce noted in his recent book, collectivism has an individual dimension and individualism necessarily has a collectivist dimension. Both sides of the present ‘debate’ need to expand their fields of vision, and address these blindspots.

‘Trickle-down’ policies have wasted much of this nation’s income. The Left version of trickle-down is no better than the Right version (which includes ‘tax-cuts for the rich’) which the Left like to lampoon. And the Right indulge in much more collectivism – albeit private sector collectivism – than they would ever want to admit. (Proper macro-accounting, incorporating public equity, helps to reveal the over-distribution of resources to elite private interests.)

It is clear that Christopher Luxon and David Seymour would have preferred not to have Winston Peters and Shane Jones as lead rhetoricians for their government. The irony is that, with one small adjustment to National’s tax policies, National would probably have got at least five percent more votes, and we would have a two-party rather than a three party coalition today. The adjustment was to have an income tax policy which only gave tax cuts to people earning less than $180,000 a year. National’s rhetoric of tax cuts to “low and middle income earners” was hollow, because everyone knew that high income earners were also getting the maximum tax cut (not counting a contrived higher amount only envisaged for a few thousand families). All National had to do was to bring the top tax threshold down to about $160,000 (refer my Christopher Luxon is tone deaf, 14 Nov 2023); but it did not do this, on account of its own lack of imagination and unwillingness to seek or take advice from outsiders.

Māori are important to Aotearoa New Zealand, not because of their ‘race’ but because they were Aotearoa’s first boat people. The Tiriti is not about ethnicity – though it is about indigeneity – and people who want to continue discussing its principles are not racist. Separatist agendas based on distinguishing individual Aotearoans on the basis of their race – their ethnicity, their ancestry – are racist. Collectivism averts the racist problem of individual discrimination, but creates another problem; the growth of an expanded high-earning elite class which leverages off rather than practically addresses socio-economic problems which are there for all to see.

Christopher Luxon operates by a mercantilist metaphor that sees Aotearoa New Zealand as a ship that must “go forward”. While that metaphor represents both shallow politics and shallow economics, the prime minister does at least understand that superstructure sinks ships.

*******

Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

When New Zealand’s opposition National Party’s transport spokesperson, Simeon Brown, questioned the logic of bilingual traffic signs, he seemed to echo his leader Christopher Luxon’s earlier misgivings about the now prevalent use of te reo Māori in government departments.

Genuine concern or political signalling in an election year? After all, Luxon himself has expressed interest in learning te reo, and also encouraged its use when he was CEO of Air New Zealand.

He even sought to trademark “Kia Ora” as the title of the airline’s in-flight magazine.

And for his part, Brown has no problem with Māori place names on road signs. His concern is that important messaging about safety or directions should be readily understood. “Signs need to be clear,” he said.

“We all speak English, and they should be in English.” Adding more words, he believes, is simply confusing.

It’s important to take Brown at his word, then, with a new selection of proposed bilingual signs now out for public consultation. Given the National Party’s enthusiastic embrace of AI to generate pre-election advertising imagery, one obvious place to start is with ChatGPT, which tells us:

Bilingual traffic signs, which display information in two or more languages, are generally not considered a driver hazard. In fact, bilingual signage is often implemented to improve safety and ensure that drivers of different language backgrounds can understand and follow the traffic regulations.

ChatGPT also suggests that by providing information about speed limits, directions and warnings, bilingual traffic signs “accommodate diverse communities and promote road safety for all drivers”.

‘They should be in English’: National to ditch te reo Māori traffic signs https://t.co/7FGYyQDrPu

— RNZ News (@rnz_news) May 26, 2023

Safety and culture
With mounting concern over AI’s potential existential threat to human survival, however, it’s probably best we don’t take the bot’s word for it.

Fortunately, government transport agency Waka Kotahi has already examined the use of bilingual traffic signs in 19 countries across the Americas, Asia, Europe and the Middle East. It’s 2021 report states:

The use of bilingual traffic signage is common around the world and considered “standard” in the European Union. Culture, safety and commerce appear to be the primary impetuses behind bilingual signage.

Given Brown’s explicit preference for the use of English, it’s instructive that in the UK itself, the Welsh, Ulster Scots and Scots Gaelic languages appear alongside English on road signs in Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland.

More to the point, on the basis of the evidence it reviewed, Waka Kotahi concluded that — providing other important design considerations are attended to — bilingual traffic signs can both improve safety and respond to cultural aspirations:

In regions of Aotearoa New Zealand where people of Māori descent are over-represented in vehicle crash statistics, or where they represent a large proportion of the local population, bilingual traffic signage may impart benefits in terms of reducing harm on our road network.

‘One people’
Politically, however, the problem with a debate over bilingual road signs is that it quickly becomes another skirmish in the culture wars — echoing the common catchcry of those opposed to greater biculturalism in Aotearoa New Zealand: “We are one people”.

It’s a loaded phrase, originally attributed to the Crown’s representative Lieutenant Governor William Hobson, who supposedly said “he iwi tahi tātou” (we are one people) at the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840.

Whether or not he said any such thing is up for debate. William Colenso, who was at Waitangi on the day and who reported Hobson’s words, thought he had.

But Colenso’s account was published 50 years after the events in question (and just nine years before he died aged 89).

Either way, the assertion has since come to be favoured by those to whom the notion of cultural homogeneity appeals. It’s a common response to the increasing public visibility of te ao Māori (the Māori world).

But being “one people” means other things become singular too: one law, one science, one language, one system. In other words, a non-Māori system, the one many of us take for granted as simply the way things are.

Any suggestion that system might incorporate or coexist with aspects of other systems — indeed might benefit from them — tends to come up against the kind of resistance we see to such things as bilingual road signs.

Fretful sleepers
The discomfort many New Zealanders still feel with the use of te reo Māori in public settings brings to mind Bill Pearson’s famous 1952 essay, Fretful Sleepers.

In it, Pearson reflects on the anxiety that can seep unbidden into the lives of those who would like to live in a “wishfully untroubled world”, but who nonetheless sense things are not quite right out here on the margins of the globe.

Pearson lived in a very different New Zealand. But he had his finger on the same fear and defensiveness that can cause people to fret about the little things (like bilingual signs) when there are so many more consequential things to disrupt our sleep.

Anyway, Simeon Brown and his fellow fretful sleepers appear to be on the wrong side of history. Evidence suggests most New Zealanders would like to see more te reo Māori in their lives, not less.

Two-thirds would like te reo taught as a core subject in primary schools, and 56 percent think “signage should be in both te reo Māori and English”.

If the experience in other parts of the world is anything to go by, bilingual signage will be just another milestone on the road a majority seem happy to be on.

Dr Richard Shaw, Professor of Politics, Massey University.  This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons licence. Read the original article.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz