New Zealanders have a fatal flaw: we’re too polite for our own good. We don’t like conflict. We don’t like awkwardness. And we certainly don’t like being the one person in the room who says, “No thanks, I’m not doing that.” That national instinct - to keep the peace at all costs - is now being used against the public in a way few fully appreciate.
Polite New Zealanders quietly sit through public gatherings while an opportunistic orator addresses the audience in a language few understand. This isn’t about culture — it’s about control.
Across government departments, schools, councils, workplaces, and media events, cultural rituals that were once optional are now treated as compulsory civic behaviour. Pressing of noses (hongi), Māori songs and chants (waiata), Māori prayers (karakia), gifting names, Māori salutations - none of these are merely “nice gestures” anymore. They’ve shifted into something else: a test of allegiance, a marker of compliance, a subtle assertion of dominance, and an act of capitulation to a small but driven political faction.
And because most non-Māori are conflict-averse, they oblige. They bow their heads, press noses, chant along, and pretend to be comfortable. Not because they want to, but because they fear the consequences of declining. They’re terrified of being accused of disrespect, insensitivity, or worse. So they fold. Again and again.
That meekness has consequences.
Every time someone submits to a hongi they don’t want, sings a waiata in a meeting despite hating public singing, or stands silently through a spiritual invocation they don’t believe in, they reinforce a message: these rituals are no longer cultural expressions. They are obligations. Expected. Required. The price of participating in public life.
And once cultural expectations become public obligations, they become political tools.
None of this happens by accident. Symbolism is power. Ritual is power. Normalising cultural authority is the soft-launch phase of normalising political authority. Once you can make people perform rituals they don’t believe in, it becomes easier to claim those rituals reflect a deeper hierarchy—one that should carry political weight.
You don’t need force to shift a society. You just need enough people too scared or too polite to push back.
And that’s exactly what’s happening. The state, its institutions, and large corporates have turned cultural deference into a civic virtue. Declining participation is treated as deviant, disrespectful, or dangerous. The fear of social shaming now does the work that laws never could.
But the real problem isn’t the people pushing these rituals. It’s the people surrendering to them.
No one is physically forcing non-Māori to perform cultural acts they don’t want. They comply because it’s easier. Because it avoids embarrassment. Because they don’t want to be publicly shamed by a culturally activist media. Because politeness has been elevated above personal boundaries and individual conviction.
But politeness is no substitute for backbone.
A country where people feel they cannot decline a spiritual ritual they don’t share is not a tolerant society — it’s a controlled one. A country where workers feel they must perform cultural songs to keep their jobs is not celebrating diversity — it’s enforcing conformity. A country where civic participation is measured by a willingness to adopt someone else’s customs on demand is not equality — it’s a hierarchy with a friendly face.
New Zealanders need to relearn the most basic democratic skill: saying “No.” Calmly. Firmly. Without apology.
“No, I won’t press noses with a stranger.”
“No, I don’t participate in spiritual ceremonies I don’t believe in.”
“No, I’m not singing in a work meeting.”
“No, I’m not sitting politely while someone addresses me in a language I don’t understand.”
These are not acts of hostility. They’re acts of self-respect.
True cultural respect requires freedom — freedom to participate, and freedom to decline. Without that freedom, rituals become weapons. Symbols become pressure points. And politeness becomes the lever through which political narratives advance unchecked.
New Zealand doesn’t need more submission disguised as courtesy.
It needs ordinary people willing to draw a line.
Geoff Parker is a passionate advocate for equal rights and a colour blind society.
And because most non-Māori are conflict-averse, they oblige. They bow their heads, press noses, chant along, and pretend to be comfortable. Not because they want to, but because they fear the consequences of declining. They’re terrified of being accused of disrespect, insensitivity, or worse. So they fold. Again and again.
That meekness has consequences.
Every time someone submits to a hongi they don’t want, sings a waiata in a meeting despite hating public singing, or stands silently through a spiritual invocation they don’t believe in, they reinforce a message: these rituals are no longer cultural expressions. They are obligations. Expected. Required. The price of participating in public life.
And once cultural expectations become public obligations, they become political tools.
None of this happens by accident. Symbolism is power. Ritual is power. Normalising cultural authority is the soft-launch phase of normalising political authority. Once you can make people perform rituals they don’t believe in, it becomes easier to claim those rituals reflect a deeper hierarchy—one that should carry political weight.
You don’t need force to shift a society. You just need enough people too scared or too polite to push back.
And that’s exactly what’s happening. The state, its institutions, and large corporates have turned cultural deference into a civic virtue. Declining participation is treated as deviant, disrespectful, or dangerous. The fear of social shaming now does the work that laws never could.
But the real problem isn’t the people pushing these rituals. It’s the people surrendering to them.
No one is physically forcing non-Māori to perform cultural acts they don’t want. They comply because it’s easier. Because it avoids embarrassment. Because they don’t want to be publicly shamed by a culturally activist media. Because politeness has been elevated above personal boundaries and individual conviction.
But politeness is no substitute for backbone.
A country where people feel they cannot decline a spiritual ritual they don’t share is not a tolerant society — it’s a controlled one. A country where workers feel they must perform cultural songs to keep their jobs is not celebrating diversity — it’s enforcing conformity. A country where civic participation is measured by a willingness to adopt someone else’s customs on demand is not equality — it’s a hierarchy with a friendly face.
New Zealanders need to relearn the most basic democratic skill: saying “No.” Calmly. Firmly. Without apology.
“No, I won’t press noses with a stranger.”
“No, I don’t participate in spiritual ceremonies I don’t believe in.”
“No, I’m not singing in a work meeting.”
“No, I’m not sitting politely while someone addresses me in a language I don’t understand.”
These are not acts of hostility. They’re acts of self-respect.
True cultural respect requires freedom — freedom to participate, and freedom to decline. Without that freedom, rituals become weapons. Symbols become pressure points. And politeness becomes the lever through which political narratives advance unchecked.
New Zealand doesn’t need more submission disguised as courtesy.
It needs ordinary people willing to draw a line.
Geoff Parker is a passionate advocate for equal rights and a colour blind society.

4 comments:
The line needs to be drawn at forcing people to undertake actions that imply support for a particular political cause that they do not in fact wish to support or be seen to support. This is actually a violation of their human rights. Both the US and UK Supreme Courts have ruled against enforced support for a sociopolitical cause.
I went to a Chartered Accountants (CAANZ) Continuing Professional Development event at the CAANZ office and was subjected to not only the waiata and karakia, but stunned to witness a whole section of the audience, whom I can only presume work in the public sector, chanted a mysterious response in Maori almost as though in a Catholic mass. God only knows what they were incanting and possibly allying with. I have also had the misfortune of being subjected to a traditional Maori opening at an environmental hearing and the kaumatua blabbed on and in English admitted not knowing anything about the proposed operations, nor the effects, but was concerned about nature and therefore wasn’t in favour of it. All references to ToW and ‘consultation’ with Maori over folklore must be removed from laws in the same way we aren’t required to consult with the Catholic church on any matters other than our own private desires.
When govts ignore their citizens, the people do need to take a stand. Luxon is not supporting equality in NZ. Act proposed the TPB. Neither Luxon nor Winston supported it. Nothing has yet come of Winston’s review of treaty clauses. The review has been delegated to National MPs Goldsmith and Potaka. So don’t hold your breath for major change there and the review only covers a fairly limited range of legislation anyway. Let’s see what the new RMA looks like. Will it put a stake in the ground to end the consultation driven grifting and cultural division?
I used to do a big yawn and turn my back at th local Anzac parade when th maori service rep lapsed into a long te reo show off. I have since quit attending. Persons would object more but they are afraid iof assault, kicked in car paneles, tyes deflated, children hounded, and other tikanga utu.
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