The Academy- A Colonial Project in Settler Colonialism?

The following entry is based on notes I developed for my presentation at the 2014 International Indigenous Legal Conference, held in Brisbane from 25- 27 July.

Congratulations to the organisers and to all my fellow presenters for a wonderful, inspiring experience.

Introduction

A common practice in Maoridom when giving a speech like this is to begin by telling a story, the purpose of which is to set the scene for the content of the presentation, and the main argument I wish to present:

Budapest - September 2013: In response to a presentation I gave on members of the restorative justice industry purposely utilising Maori/Indigenous cultural artefacts to market programmes, a gentleman in the audience stated the following: 'when I was in New Zealand in the 1990's research family group conferencing, people told me that Maori meant 'other people', so since I was from overseas that would make me Maori'.  

The intent of his comment was clear: I am an 'other person', Maori means other person, so I can call myself Maori and are free to use Maori culture as I see fit.

This type of behaviour can only be described as White Privilege writ large.

Since then other Indigenous scholars and I have been sharing our experiences of this kind of behaviour.  The regularity with which this type of racist, unethical conduct occurs got me thinking that in all our critical analysis of the many and varied Colonial Projects that are deployed today by non-Indigenous individuals and institutions to empower themselves and disempower us, perhaps the one we have failed to take as seriously as we should, is the very institution that many of us work in – the Academy.

The Argument

The challenge of ‘being Indigenous’, in a psychic and cultural sense, forms the crucial question facing Indigenous peoples today in the era of contemporary colonialism – a form of post-modern imperialism in which domination is still the Settler imperative but where colonisers have designed and practised more subtle means (in contrast to the earlier forms of missionary and militaristic colonial enterprises) of accomplishing their objectives (Alfred and Corntassel, 2005: 297-289). 

The quote from Alfred and Corntassel marks out the problem-field with which this presentation is concerned.  What follows represents the tentative explorations of a critical criminological/sociological question of significant concern to Indigenous scholars and to many Indigenous peoples: what role, if any, does the Academy, play in the Settler Colonial subjugation of Indigenous people? 

It will come as no surprise to anyone that my answer is 'a significant one'.

I will argue that the Academy, and in particular its research function, is a key Colonial Project in this, the contemporary settler colonial context.

Colonial Projects and Settler Colonialism

In his critical commentary on the role of the discipline of Anthropology in the subjugation of Indigenous peoples, Nicholas Thomas identified a set of processes of social control which he labelled Colonial Projects, strategies and interventions that were fundamental to the successful establishment of a settler colony and the colonial subjugation of the Indigenous inhabitants. 

Thomas argues that from the moment of first contact colonisers utilised colonial projects to expedite the eradication, or failing this, the subjugation of the Indigenous peoples they encountered in the ‘new’ territories.  The following ‘projects’ were vital to advancing the ‘civilising’ mission of colonialism:

• economic trade; and

• religion (especially religious conversion).

Later, the impact of enlightenment thinking saw:

• science (and the developing social sciences and education displace religion as key colonial projects.  At this point colonialist strategy changed focus from saving our souls, toward policies and interventions that facilitated our removal from our lands, and prepared us for (targeted) participation in the emerging western society and capitalist economy;

• relatedly, Social Darwinism was utilised by colonisers to validate the ideological construction of Indigenes as inherently inferior, biologically, genetically and intellectually, to Europeans, a 'process' that Malik (1996) and Wolfe (1999) refer to as the racialisation of colonialism;

• a process exemplified in Colonial Projects we refer to now as identity categories.  These included the introduction of measurements of indigeneity based on blood quantum, for example ‘full’, ‘3/4’, ‘half-Maori’ and so forth;

• all of which were supported by ideological constructs such as the drunk Abo, happy,  slightly dim, guitar-playing Maori, and, my favourite, the angry, violent, over-emotional Aboriginal, because of course we are unable to control our emotions, etc;

• which in  turn supported the implementation of eugenics programmes, such as forced sterilisation that were deployed across Canada, Australia and the U.S in the latter half of the 19^th, and early part of the 20^th centuries; 

• and justified a range of projects focused on eradicating Indigenous peoples’ ability to practice their culture, most notably in the form of child removal programmes and residential/native schools, especially in the Canadian, U.S and Australian contexts.

And finally, there are the colonial projects that can be collectivised under the heading structural violence, exemplified via direct military action, forced removal of children, and the policies and actions emanating from the imported criminal justice system. 

The numerous colonial projects that littered the settler colonial landscape formed a complex web of subjugating strategies across a range of social and economic policy platforms. Underpinning these projects was the colonial states’ judicious use of structural violence.  It was a web from which a single colonial project could be discretely deployed to overcome ‘wicked problems’ that evolved from state-Indigenous interactions; wicked problems being those social issues that, at least in the eyes of the state, emanate exclusively from within problem populations and, as a result, define them as such. 

Or, as often happened, the state combined projects in coordinated campaigns of subjugation, such as the combined strategies of militaristic policing, child removals and reservation schools deployed in the American, Canadian and Australian jurisdictions throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. 

Colonial Projects in the Contemporary, Neo-Colonial Context

Our respective geographical locations are framed by nation states such as the USA, Canada, Australia and New Zealand where colonisation has not ceased to exist; it has only changed in form from that which our ancestors encountered (Moreton-Robinson, 2009: 11).

Criminal justice in fact remains one of the most potent Colonial Projects utilised by the Settler Colonial state in the ongoing subjugation of Indigenous peoples.  One of its key functions is in assisting the state to ‘control’ what it identifies as significant wicked problems, one of which is the Maori/Indigenous over-representation, represented in governmental discourse as a ‘fact of (criminal justice) life’ that poses a significant social problem and threat to social order requiring meaningful intervention. 

In New Zealand the ‘Maori problem’ is described in governmental and media discourse as being so significant that our crime problem would likely disappear if not for the high level and nature of Maori offending, because, according to an ACT Party spokesperson, reported in the Otago Daily Times in 2012, we are “full of crime”. 

And it will come as no surprise to many of you that much of the criminal justice system response to us and our ‘wicked problem’ is in the form of structural violence - perpetrated through:

•  militaristic-style policing strategies;

• biased application of public disorder offences and discretionary powers;

•  the criminal justice-led large-scale removal of Indigenous children and youth to detention centres, and

• indigenous adults to the prison system.

Along with child care and protection processes, the colonial projects of removal and sequestration remain significant structurally violent colonial projects deployed by the settler colonial state in its ongoing ‘war of manoeuvre’ against Indigenous resistance to assimilation, and, at times, annihilation. 

Doing Imperialism Quietly?  The Academy as Structural Violence

Around the turn of the century there emerges a mythic, masterful silence in the narratives of empire, what Sir Alfred Lyall called ‘doing our Imperialism quietly’ (Bhabha, 1994: 177 – emphasis added).

What I have discussed so far are what most people would identify as ‘obvious’ institutionally-derived structural violence.  However, I contend that the settler colonial state has become much more subtle and manoeuvrable in the development and deployment of Colonial Projects. 

No longer able to maintain legitimacy by deploying overtly racist, assimilationist strategies such as the forced removal of our children in militaristic fashion – least they draw international condemnation, or employing legislation that specifically bans our language and cultural practices, or indeed replicating the physical genocide of the Indian Wars carried out in Canada and the U.S, or the killing times in Australia, nevertheless the neo-liberal settler state continues to deploy structural/epistemic violence against Indigenous peoples. 

This brings me full circle, to the story I told at the beginning of the presentation.  To reiterate, I argue that the Academy, the very institution that many of us here work in, is a key Colonial Project, if not one of the most important and nefarious strategies of subjugation deployed by the settler colonial society, against Indigenous peoples.    

On what basis do I make this claim; what evidence exists to support it?  For a start, the comment from the European restorative justice advocate I spoke about earlier is simply a more honest expression of the attitude of many working in the Academy, towards Indigenous peoples, our knowledge, our philosophies and our cultural practices. 

The western Academy’s response to Indigenous peoples, and especially its response to any Indigenous challenge to its hegemony over knowledge construction and dissemination, and as the evidence factory for informing policy development, demonstrates that structural violence is being deployed in much more subtle, yet no less destructive, formulations in this the settler colonial context. 

There are a number of ways/processes, etc, through which the Academy performs structural violence against us, and I have only a little time to highlight a few, including:

• the assimilation of ourselves (our bodies), our philosophies and customs within standardised, Eurocentric research ethics processes;

• corralling us and our work as ‘outputs’ to be reported against meaningless Aboriginal Strategies, Reconciliation Plans and such like; and

• through us becoming little more than names and CVs employed to exoticise funding applications.

Think of all those times your name, and your research and academic record has been added without consent by colleagues to their funding applications; or when not long after the launch of an institutions Aboriginal Strategy, you suddenly find that the Indigenous units you teach have decreased instead of increasing, as the said strategy seems to imply will be the case.

I think the most powerful evidence that exists to demonstrate the power of White Privilege within the Academy, comes from the way in which some of our colleagues and the institutions we work in respond when we challenge the structural inequalities that frame these institutions. In discussing these issues with a range of Indigenous colleagues over the last 10 months or so, as part of a project I refer to as Racism in the Academy, I find that when our resistance to the hegemony of the Academy results in the resurrection of those tired, racist stereotypes and responses formulated during the colonial era, especially the violent, over-emotional, angry brown boy/girl who is unable to control their emotions.  In comparison,said institutions expend little energy in scrutinising the acts of White Privilege that us angry, emotive natives are responding to.

Over the last year I have received a wake-up call about the state of the Academy.  This was emanated not only from my own experiences, but also from my Indigenous colleagues who have recounted their own, often much more violent, disempowering experiences.  But perhaps the one experience I have had that has upset me the most is finding that many of the perpetrators of the sorts of actions I have described are often western academics who most readily, and ardently present themselves as our Allies. 

Let us recall at this point the English philosopher Edmund Burke once famously said that:

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

Well, I have recently discovered a situation much worse than that, and much more damaging for Indigenous academics, and that is the failure of western academic colleagues to live up to the ideals they readily claim in their research and publications; ideals like:

• supporting the most disaffected and powerless in our communities;

• supporting the eradication of racism, and

• supporting Indigenous scholarship and empowerment. 

Easy statements to make; and they make nice sound bites for speeches exalting the values of a particular individual or institution, but in the end they are only words - you will be judged by your actions.

It is worthwhile remembering in the future the following 'warning': if you stand by and say nothing when your Indigenous colleagues are treated no better than academic field hands, then you are not an ally; you are an accomplice to the perpetuation of a Colonial Project and to the application of structural violence against us.

References

Alfred, T and Corntassel, J (2005) Being Indigenous: Resurgences against Contemporary Colonialism, Government and Opposition IX: 597-614. 

Bhabha, H (1994) The Location of Culture.  London: Routledge.   

Malik, K (1996) The Meaning of Race: Race, History and Culture in Western Society, London: Macmillan.

Moreton-Robinson, A (2009) Introduction: Critical Indigenous Theory, Cultural Studies Review, 15(2): 11-12.

Otago Daily Times (2012) Maori Full of Crime and Welfare: ACT Donor, Saturday 19 May.

Thomas, N (1994) Colonialism’s Culture: Anthropology, Travel and Government.  Melbourne: Melbourne University Press.

Wolfe, P (1999) Settler Colonialism and the Transformation of Anthropology.  London: Continuum Publishing Group. 

‘If You’re So Good, Why is Your Policy so Bad? A Maori Critique of Crime Control in New Zealand

Notes from my presentation to the Australia New Zealand Society of Criminology Conference, 22-25 November 2012.

Opening Statement

In case anyone is wondering, the first part of the title of the paper was a comment uttered by a participant during a consultation hui (meeting) with Maori service providers organised by the Department of Corrections in 2001 in Invercargill.  The purpose of the hui was to inform the development of the Department's Treaty of Waitangi Strategy.  

I heard this and many similar comments from Maori service providers, ex and current offenders, practitioners and even policy workers, during my ten years working in the Policy Industry from 1999.  It is a phrase that nicely frames the focus and content of this paper, mainly because it invokes a fundamental tension between the rhetoric and ideology of crime control policy production, and the impact such activity is having on the everyday lives of individual Maori, whanau, Maori communities and Maori service providers, tension that results from the Industry’s continuous exaggeration of the efficacy of its activities and its value to Maori.  The tendency of the Policy Industry to exaggerate the efficacy of its well-resourced activities is made obvious by decades of catastrophic failure of the Industry’s policy approach to social harm to have any meaningful impact, especially for Maori.   

Before I discuss why I believe that, overall, crime control policy making in New Zealand is an abject failure, especially for Maori, I first want to make the following statement to lay the contextual framework for what follows:

Arguably, Indigenous peoples residing in settler colonial societies experience a number of ‘truths’ when confronted by imposed, Eurocentric criminal justice systems; including that:

• the ‘system’ plays a significant role in bringing about the ongoing problem of Indigenous over-representation;

• the role the ‘system’ plays, especially the Policy Industry, goes largely unexamined and unchallenged (more on why this is later in the paper); and

• the Policy Industry is ably supported by administrative formulations of the discipline of criminology, in particular a virulent form that appears in the settler colonial context – Authoritarian Criminology; a relationship that is most accurately described as parasitic.

This commentary focuses on two critical questions:

• why are the ‘Maori strategies’ and policies of these agencies so ineffective, and largely irrelevant to the Maori communities they are designed to serve?  And

• why are policy workers and criminologists blaming Maori for the current levels of Maori over-representation?

The following commentary is based on empirical analysis derived from a range of qualitative research engagements with Maori cons, ex-cons, service providers, practitioners, social and youth workers, youth, youth gangs, discussions with researchers and academics over the past 18 years, including (importantly) 10 years analysing and developing policy as a member of the Policy Industry.

What is the Crux of the Problem?  The Policy Bubble

There are a number of issues/factors that play a role in the overall poor quality of Maori-targeted policy and interventions produced by the Policy Industry: combined they construct what I refer to as the Policy Bubble.  What is ‘the bubble’?

Exaggerated claims of success in the face of the inevitable, catastrophic failure of policy, and interventions.

How does the bubble manifest?

Through planned, purposeful build up of pressure relating to moral panic and political rhetoric relating to a) a particular form of social harm, and/or b) problem population (such as Maori).

Supported by:

Utilisation of managerialist policy development tools underpinned by core procedural concepts (which are in fact meaningless rhetorical devices) like ‘international best practice’, ‘evidence-based policy’, ‘scientific interventions’.

Underpinned by: 

The cherry picking of empirical evidence by policy workers to support preconceived, politically-driven policy, resourcing, legislative decisions:

All this activity is carried out with the full knowledge of the Policy Industry that the efficacy of said policies and interventions will have little positive impact on Maori - the exaggeration of its impact is intentional.

Case studies
Readers who are interested in this issue should engage with the following crime control policy projects; material for each one is readily available via the relevant government agency's webpages, or through submission of a Official Information Act request:

Dept of Corrections Integrated Offender Management.

Interdepartmental Organised Crime Strategy.

Ministry of Justice-led Crime Reduction and Youth Offending strategies.

Bursting the Bubble

Catastrophic (policy) failure occurs because of:

• an over-reliance on external interventions lacking coherence to the NZ social context;

• the a-cultural, a-theoretical nature of policy making;

• policy making is part of a ‘political service’ and not the public service; and

• ignorance of contemporary lived experience/social context of Maori.

Exaggerated claims made in the face of inevitable, catastrophic failure occur BECAUSE of the political nature of policy making, and because policy development is about control and manipulation of individuals and populations, and NOT the reduction of social harm

Case studies

Two excellent case studies that demonstrate the Policy Industry's purposeful use of interventions or policy levers to which they attach exaggerated claims of probable success include:

• Boot camps, and various high level, inter-agency projects such as

• Re-offending by Maori (RoBM)/Effectice Interventions/Drivers of Crime.

The criminal justice system and the policy sectors contribute to the problem of catastrophic failure in a number of ways, including:

• the ongoing utilisation of militaristic-style policing strategies for ‘brown fella's’,

• the Policy Industry's over-reliance on imported, socially inappropriate western crime control interventions, and

• 'consultation' processes that marginalise non-Western knowledge and experiences from the act of policy making.

How Should We Respond to This Situation?  

By organising a multi-pronged, organised approach.

By all means carry on working ‘in’ the system, as policy workers, external advisors and such like, but be realistic and recognise that our ability to significantly alter current poor, racist practices of the Policy Industry is negligible without the dual strategy of 'good Maori'/'bad Maori' (critics).

Build a Maori-centred Congress focused on a) critiquing the Policy Industry, media, politicians and Authoritarian Criminologists and their activities to hold them accountable for the impact of their work and b) developing our own knowledge, empirical evidence and theories on the impact of policies and interventions to ensure our voices and experiences are ‘known’. 

The proposed Congress needs to involve researchers, academics, social service providers, cons, ex-cons, politicians of the ‘right’ ideological bent.  Furthermore, with regards the academy, it is imperative that we construct and employ an Indigenous Criminology, perhaps a Warrior Criminology focused on supporting our peoples endeavours to construct and practice meaningful interventions for social harms.  Our Warrior Criminology should aggressively pursue and combat racist criminologies and the Policy Industry, in order to nullify the negative impact their activities often have on Maori.

At present we have an interesting coalition forming that is seeking, as one of its key aims, to silence Indigenous critique of the policy sector and our challenge to the hegemony of administrative criminologists as the states principal 'advisors'.  Members of both groups, the Policy Industry and conservative, Authoritarian criminologists, are pointing the finger at Maori for the failure of New Zealand's crime control policy.  They are exaggerating the extent to which we influence the Policy Industry, as manifested in the proliferation conferencing programmes, Maori prison units, 'tikanga' programmes in corrections, Maori justice strategies and the like.  

This attack is fundamentally flawed because it ignores significant empirical evidence that a) these interventions are manifestations of public service/state indigenisation of Eurocentric (and often imported) policies and interventions.  Few, if any, are actually based on tikanga; b) so-called 'Maori interventions' receive less than 10% of the country's spend on crime control interventions; and c) Maori are far more likely to be subjected to imported, Eurocentric crime control interventions than they are to participate in tikanga-based programmes.

Postscript to Hungary:

A Commentary on Tacit Racism within Eurocentric Criminology

Background

In the blog I released on 10 September, based on my presentation at the 2013 European Criminology Conference, I said that I would add a postscript focused on feedback I received during the session.  So here it is:

During question time two members of the audience took exception to my critical commentary on the Restorative Justice (RJ) industry's use of indigenous artifacts to construct and market their products.  The first made an exaggerated claim that I had accused ALL RJ theorists, writers, etc, of doing this; when clearly I was referring to many who write about FGC, sentencing circles, etc, and so his criticism was easily dismissed as nonsense.  The more interesting response was the second, and I want to highlight this individuals statements as I believe they are representative of the kind of lazy, prejudiced, sometimes even racist attitudes I've experienced in the last 15 years: they beautifully illustrate the 'tacit racism' and Eurocentrism that is never far below the surface of certain forms of the discipline of criminology.

In response to my commentary the individual in question countered with 2 comments:

"Who really owns culture; do you (Maori) have intellectual property rights over your culture"; and

"When I was in New Zealand I found out that the word 'Maori', means 'other person', so, I can call myself Maori...."

The first comment is typical Eurocentric bullsh*t: the line of argument is that unless we have a piece of paper saying 'we own these elements of our culture', as understood in Western legal terms, our culture, or anyone else's for that matter, is fair game.  In response; it is intellectually lazy to see these issues simply in terms of Eurocentrically-derived understandings of ownership of culture, and the racism inherent in these understandings are well documented in critical literature.  The issue for me was not 'ownership' per se, but the way in which European criminologists, RJ practitioners, policy entrepreneurs and RJ franchise companies are utilising Indigenous 'cultural artefacts' in ways that are unethical, such as exaggerating the 'Maoriness' of certain products in order to sell them on the crime control market.

While the first comment was intellectually lazy, the second was outrightly racist and offensive: first of all the word 'Maori' means different things, depending on dialect and socio-historical context, but was interpreted in the early to mid-19th century by Europeans to refer collectively to the various members of iwi (tribe), hapu (sub-tribe), whanau (family) etc.  There is no debate about it; to be 'Maori' you must be able to trace your whakapapa (genealogy) to these entities. 

What this individual was doing was taking one translation of the word from sometime in the mid-19th century to make the argument that he was 'Maori' in order to justify being able to 'take' whatever cultural artifacts he wanted to.  Now, in all my years of working in criminology and policy, I've come across some really obnoxious, Eurocentric assh*les, but never have I encountered this level of racism before, and never in an academic setting.  Since returning from Budapest I have pondered this response time and again, trying to make sense of it.  So far my only conclusion is that this individual, and the other person who's comments I discussed above, belong to that small group of Western academics who have been utilising First Nation cultural artifacts, as and how they wish, without ever having been challenged.  Well, they got challenged, and their responses revealed much about themselves AND the wider discipline they are members of.  

The Eurocentrism of the 'Liberal' Academy
Lately, I have been asked by a few colleagues whether we can/should develop an Indigenous Criminology as a sub-set of the broader discipline.  Those asking this question make the assumption that an Indigenous component to the discipline is required, and that staying 'in house' is the most effective way of challenging the issues I and other Indigenous criminologists have expressed about the discipline.  Looking at this question from inside the discipline, this makes sense, for as the saying goes 'how can you effect change if you are sitting outside the tent'.  Well, some tents you simply don't want to be sitting in, especially when it stinks of the racist paternalism, faux 'liberalism' and Eurocentrism that pervades certain portions of the discipline.  

Of late, the behaviour of members of the Eurocentric Academy such as the two individuals at the Budapest conference discussed above, and the behaviour of the two professors at the 2012 Australian and New Zealand criminology conference I dealt with in a previous blog, has me thinking that we are perhaps better off leaving the tent and thereafter applying a liberal dose of anti-bullsh*t spray.  My drift to this position has been propelled lately by the behaviour of a bunch of criminologists who seem to think that being obnoxious covers for being 'ethical'.  Their behaviour matches many of the concerns held by the Indigenous Academy, most particularly their preference for responding to the critical Indigenous voice by personalising issues and demonising the Indigenous Other who dares express a different point of view to them.  When you dovetail those issues with the inability to develop different (meaning respectful, collaborative) ways of engaging with the Indigenous academic community, then yet again we are faced with concluding that if you scratch the surface of Eurocentric criminology hard enough, the shiny, thin lacquer of liberalism falls away and the same tired old paternalistic odour is released that has permeated Criminology since its birth in colonial times. 

But all is not lost: there are those within 'White' Criminology we can work with and trust to behave ethically towards ourselves and our communities.  Presently, we are most likely to find these individuals within Cultural Criminology, Peacemaking Criminology, and the developing schools of Post-Colonial and Queer Criminology.  However, we should not forget that we owe the wider discipline of criminology nothing, especially as its practitioners have given us very little, except more prison, more brutal policing, more trauma. In response I expect some of its practitioners will talk about how we would be better off being part of a public criminology as opposed to becoming a boutique sub-school.  I'm also certain that some of them will like nothing more than for us to add an Indigenous element to the discipline, thus 'correcting the discipline from within'. Unfortunately, given the pervasiveness of the paternalistic, colonising attitudes of the wider discipline, I fear this approach will end up as nothing more than the criminological equivalent of the state's indigenisation of youth justice, where we 'add a bit of colour' to the same, tired old epistemologies, methodologies etc, as opposed to the discipline taking a long, hard look at itself. Sadly, given the repetitiveness of the unethical, racist behaviour of members of the Academy that I and other Indigenous scholars have experienced over recent years, it is apparent that the wider discipline is not our friend, and nor is it ever likely to be: I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that it might be better for us to walk away and leave it to stink up its own tent.

But if we do walk away, what then?  I don't know, I haven't really thought that question through in detail.  We could walk back into the Indigenous/Maori/Aboriginal justice fold and become a justice/human rights component of that discipline.  We might look to the growing, sophisticated school developing in Australia called Settler Colonialism, where Indigenous and non-Indigenous scholars engage in critical analysis of the strategies used by neo-colonial states to subjugate First Nations.  Or we could become part of the growing Postcolonial studies movement, or even dovetail with our colleagues working in law and International relations to construct a broad 'school' of Indigenous Justice.  

A lot of food for thought and definitely the topic of a future blog.

A Critical Response to Advocates of Restorative Justice and Family Group Conferencing

The following blog seeks to answer some of the comments made in recent time by advocates for restorative justice, and in particular of the Family Group Conferencing (FGC) forum in response to the Indigenous critique.

Background

From its inception via the Child, Young Persons and their Families Act of 1989, until the late 1990s, advocates of FGC and the wider RJ context, and the policy sector responsible for its implementation, dominated commentary on the forum (Tauri, 1999).  The commentary was universally positive, but theoretically 'light', and lacking in data derived from independent research (as opposed to that supported by government agencies).  There was little in the way of critical commentary from within government circles, and dissenting voices from without were more often than not ignored, and sometimes vilified.  In the case of the author, the latter came in the form of a phone call one day in late 1999 from a senior Judge and noted advocate of FGC who bleated that he had heard I had criticised FGC's during a presentation at a conference in Canberra earlier that year and asked "how could you say such things".  Apart from the fact that what he had been told 2nd hand I had said being wrong, I also stated that the FGC was not a sacred cow and I was entitled to make critical comments if I wish.

Except I was wrong: the FGC had by then become a sacred cow.  It had also become a cash cow for some criminologists, policy entrepreneurs and ex-policemen from New Zealand and Australia in the decade since its inception.  By the early 2000's FGC of some form or other had 'travelled' from New Zealand to Australia, from Australia and New Zealand to North America, and from New Zealand to Germany and from there to other Western European jurisdictions.  The FGC had gone global, and the forum, at the time and ever since New Zealand's only original crime control idea/policy, had made the country the darling of the then developing restorative justice industry.

Now, since the late 1990s I and a whole host of other critical criminologists have critiqued the FGC from various angles, including Kathy Daly, Harry Blagg, Chris Cunneen and Kelly Richards on the Australian perspective, Wenona Victor, Jonathan Rudin and Gloria Lee on the Canadian context, and myself and Cath Love on the New Zealand context.  Within this growing body of critical literature has been identified a number of issues with the FGC forum, far too many to discuss in detail here.  But one that is key to our understanding the importance of the FGC to the ever-expanding globalised RJ industry, is the constant exaggeration of its Indigenous (read Maori) foundations; what Daly (2002) would probably (and accurately) call one of the key Origin Myths of restorative justice.  

In short, the origin myth goes something like this: in the mid-1980s a Maori-led committee produced a critical review of social policy/care and protection practices as they impacted Maori (known as 'Daybreak' - see Ministerial Advisory Committee, 1988); that this report recommended that a Maori-centred justice process be developed, that the report and this recommendation lay the foundation for the FGC, and finally, that because of all this, the FGC forum was 'Maori inspired'; a 'Maori process', and/or 'rich with Maori philosophy and justice practice', etc.  Certainly, the forum developed out of Maori concerns for government responses to youth justice (amongst a number of issues), but as one of the key architects of the 1989 legislation, Doolan (2005: 1) “those of us who were involved in the policy development process leading up to the new law had never heard of restorative justice”, and nor was a major concern the oft-made and exaggerated claim that they were motivated by wanting to 'empower Maori to deal with their own youth offenders'.  Instead, their focus was on producing a state-centred forum based on what was then becoming the fashionable ideological bases to western youth justice policy, namely the responsibilisation of youth offenders and their families (see Richards, 2007 for a full analysis of the exaggerated way in which Maori input has been constructed by FGC advocates). 

This all sound lovely; the state producing a forum based on Maori justice principles, to empower us, etc, etc; except it is all exaggerated bull-dust.  Yes, when you look closely the forum includes some 'Indigenous' elements, and some RJ one's, but these were after-the-fact 'discoveries' manufactured by New Zealand and Australian criminologists who, in my opinion, simply cherry picked features of the FGC process that matched with so-called Indigenous and RJ processes, thereby creating the illusion of its 'Maoriness': in other words, they created a fiction which has since evolved into a myth: a myth many advocates of RJ and FGC have used since to facilitate the successful transfer of the forum across various jurisdictions. Nothing wrong with that per se, except those who are purposely doing this are doing so on the back of incomplete information (constructed in the form of the 'myth'); they are misrepresenting the forum as Indigenous, when it is not, and some are making quite a nice living from doing so.  And that, I believe, is unethical.  

Critiquing the Advocates

I want to focus for the remainder of this blog on responding to one particular RJ advocates critique of Indigenous criticisms of the FGC forum; namely comments made by Gabrielle Maxwell in a 2008 publication, in which she stated that:

In New Zealand there has been criticism that family group conferences have not been managed in ways that conform with traditional practice of Maori or those from other cultural backgrounds.  It has been suggested that the high proportion of Maori staff managing the process and the inclusion of Maori greetings and blessing is little more than tokenism and can rarely be described as a truly Maori process.  This is despite the undisputed origins of many aspects of the conference process in traditional Maori procedures (Consedine, 1995).  On the other hand, on occasion, the management of the conference process is sometimes passed over to a Maori social service group (Maxwell, 2008: 87).

These sentiments had previously been expressed by Gabrielle's one time collaborator, Alison Morris just a few short years before when she argued that in 'critiquing FGC's I failed to acknowledge the high numbers Maori working in New Zealand's Child Care and Protection service'.

Within Maxwell and Morris' comments we can identify many of the issues Maori and other critical Indigenous/non-Indigenous commentators have with much of the Academy’s writing on the FGC forum, in particular the manipulation of the available record to establish and sustain the origin myths of the FGC:

First: the most obvious issue is the claim that the FGC’s Maori foundations are ‘undisputable’.  The previous discussion, especially the research of Richards (2007) exposes the exaggerated nature of this claim.  In reiterating this origin myth and presenting it as ‘undisputable’, Maxwell and others ignore the significant amount of literature exposing this myth published since Consedine’s 1995 book.  Maxwell’s approach to espousing the origin myth of FGC highlights one of the fundamental criticisms Indigenous scholars have made about some members of the restorative justice Industry, namely the lack of engagement with the critical Indigenous/non-Indigenous literature (see Tauri, 2012; Tauri and Webb, 2011; more on this issue below).  

Second: Maxwell’s own published research on the FGC process (Morris and Maxwell, 1993; Maxwell et al, 2004) reported some Maori FGC participants being especially concerned with the tokenistic way in which ‘Maori culture’ was afforded space in the process, which more often than not comprised of state officials allowing elders to recite karakia (pray) at the beginning and end of the process: and that was pretty much it.  The 'reality' of the cultural context of the forum exposed by their own research, demonstrates that the actual practice of FGC is often far removed from ideological claims that the process offers meaningful opportunities for the empowerment of Maori, especially in 'leading' responses to the offending of their youth (See also Morris and Maxwell, 1998).  

Third: in the above quote Maxwell is replicating a fundamental weaknesses in the FGC/Maori justice scholarship, which is to ignore the lack of direct Maori input into the actual design of the Act and the FGC forum.  She also ignores the fact that officials involved in the developing the process - including the chief policy architect, Doolan - have since admitted that they were not focused on developing a ‘Maori justice process’, or indeed even a restorative justice one. 

What Maxwell and other restorative justice advocates are constantly doing is erroneously equating Maori requests for a ‘traditional forum’ (more especially in Moana Jackson’s 1988 report He Whaipaanga Hou than in Daybreak), with Maori justice philosophies being foundational to the formulation of the forum itself.  To do so is to ignore the reality of policy making in the New Zealand context, in particular the historical tendency for the criminal justice sector to ‘Indigenise’ Eurocentric crime control processes (see Jackson, 1995; Tauri, 1998; 2009; Tauri and Webb, 2011; Williams, 2001).  It also ignores that the supposed ‘Maori’ and restorative elements were identified long after the formulation and implementation of both the Act and the forum.  As Daly (2002: 63) effectively argues “the devising of a (white, bureaucratic) justice practice that is flexible and accommodating towards cultural differences does not mean that conferencing is an indigenous justice practice”.  Daly (2002: 4) then goes further, revealing that Maxwell herself is aware of this distinction when she includes the following quote from Maxwell and Morris’ original 1993 study:

A distinction must be drawn between a system, which attempts to re-establish the indigenous model of pre-European times, and a system of justice, which is culturally appropriate. The New Zealand system is an attempt to establish the latter, not to replicate the former. As such, it seeks to incorporate many of the features apparent in whanau [extended family] decision-making processes and seen in meetings on marae today, but it also contains elements quite alien to indigenous models.

Fourth: her claim that critics argue that “the high proportion of Maori staff managing the process… is little more than tokenism” does not feature in any of the literature published on the New Zealand context up till now, including the work of Jackson (1995); Love (2003) and Tauri (1998; 1999, 2005).  That significant numbers of Maori work in New Zealand’s child care and protection services (which involves FGC) is undisputed. However, it is simplistic to equate their employment in New Zealand's social services, with actual support for the process.  Indeed, Maori staff have in the past criticised the child care and protection processes utilised by the government agencies they work for, especially for the mono-cultural foundations of both policy and practice; most notably during Child Care and Protection Services staff consultation during the development of its differential service model, during Maxwell and colleagues own reviews of FGC published in 1993; 1998 and 2003, and most recently in Paora Moyles’ (2013) Master’s thesis on Maori social workers views and experiences of social work-related processes.  

Fifth: Maxwell’s attempt to counter criticisms of the tokenistic nature of the FGC process by noting that 'some FGC’s are handed to Maori and Pacifica service providers to facilitate', ignores the reality that her own research exposed - that very few FGCs actually take place in Maori homes or are run by non-Government entities (see Morris and Maxwell 1993; Maxwell et al, 2004).  

And

Lastly: as a critic of the way in which the FGC process continues to be marketed as a Maori process, and author of a number of journal articles and having read a considerable amount of the critical Indigenous/non-Indigenous literature, I found it interesting that when summarising the criticisms of authors like me, that none of the published, critical material was actually referenced, either in the body of the work, or in the bibliography.  Nor were the 'critics' actually named. The problem with this strategy, and probably the reason for it, is that it makes it difficult for readers to test the veracity of our claims.  And just as importantly, it makes it extremely difficult for readers to critically analyse Maxwell’s representation and analysis of our arguments - hence why some of our work is included in this blog.  I have come across this type of behaviour before: back in the early 2000's the justice system called for submissions for contract research on youth justice, to which the Crime Research Group at Victoria University of Wellington submitted a proposal.  In response to the submission, I and my colleagues challenged the lack of engagement in the groups proposal, with Maori and other Indigenous peoples criticisms of RJ in general and FGC in particular.  The response? One line, stating "... although Tauri has a different view".  So much for critical analysis of all available literature and once again, we see the critical Indigenous voice silenced. 

References

Daly, K (2002) Restorative Justice – The Real Story, Punishment and Society, 4(1): 55-79.

Doolan, M (2005) Restorative Practices and Family Empowerment: Both/And or Either/Or? Retrieved 8 August from http://www.americanhumane.org/site/DocServer/au13

Jackson, M (1988) Maori and the Criminal Justice System: He Whaipaanga Hou: A New Perspective.  Wellington: Department of Justice.

Jackson, M (1995) Cultural Justice: A Colonial Contradiction or a Rangatiratanga Reality?  In F. McElrea (ed.) Legal Pluralism and the Colonial Legacy.  Aldershot: Avebury: 31-45.

Love, C (2002) Maori Perspectives on Collaboration and Colonisation in Contemporary Aotearoa/New Zealand Child and Family Welfare Policies and Practices, paper presented at the Policy and Partnerships Conference, Wilfrid Laurier University, Waterloo. 

Maxwell, G (2008) Crossing Cultural Boundaries: Implementing Restorative Justice in International and Indigenous Contexts, Sociology of Crime, Law and Deviance, 11: 81-95.

Maxwell, G and Morris, A (1993) Family, Victims and Culture: Youth Justice in New Zealand.  Wellington: Social Policy Agency and the Institute of Criminology, Victoria University of Wellington.

Maxwell, G; Robertson, J; Kingi, V; Morris, A and Cunningham, C (2004) Achieving Effective Outcomes in Youth Justice.  Wellington: Ministry of Social Development.  

Ministerial Advisory Committee (1988) Puao-Te-Ata-Tu (Daybreak): The Report of the Ministerial Advisory Committee on A Maori Perspective for the Department of Social Welfare.  Wellington: Department of Social Welfare. 

Morris, A and Maxwell, G (1993) Juvenile Justice in New Zealand: A New Paradigm, Australian and New Zealand Journal of Criminology, 26(1): 72-90. 

Morris, A and Maxwell, G (1998) Restorative Justice in New Zealand: Family Group Conferences as a Case Study, Western Criminology Review, 1(1) retrieved from http://wer.sonoma.edu/v1n1/morris.html.

Moyle, P (2013) Fro Family Group Conferencing to Whaua Ora: Maori Social Workers talk about their Experiences, unpublished Master's thesis. Palmerston North: Massey University. 

Richards, K (2007) 'Rewriting History: Towards a Genealogy of 'Restorative Justice', unpublished PhD thesis. Penrith: University of Western Sydney. 

Tauri, J (1998) Family Group Conferencing: A Case-Study of the Indigenisation of New Zealand’s Justice System, Current Issues in Criminal Justice: 10(2): 168-182.

Tauri, J (1999) Explaining Recent Innovations in New Zealand’s Criminal Justice System: Empowering Maori or Biculturalising the State, Australian New Zealand Journal of Criminology, 32(2): 153-167. 

Tauri, J (2005) Indigenous Perspectives (chapter), in Walters, R and Bradley, T (eds), Introduction to Criminological Thought:  Auckland: Pearson Longman.

Tauri, J (2009) An Indigenous Commentary on the Standardisation of Restorative Justice, Indigenous Policy Journal, forthcoming.

Tauri, J (2011) Indigenous Perspectives (reconfigured chapter), in R. Walters and T. Bradley (eds), Introduction to Criminological Thought (2^nd ed.).  Auckland: Pearson Longman.

Tauri, J (2012) Indigenous Critique of Authoritarian Criminology, in K. Carrington; M. Ball; E. O’Brien and J. Tauri (eds.), Crime, Justice and Social Democracy: International Perspectives.  London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 217-233.  

Tauri, J and Webb, R (2011) The Waitangi Tribunal and the Regulation of Maori Protest, New Zealand Sociology.

Williams, C (2001) The Too Hard Basket: Maori and Criminal Justice Since 1980.  Wellington: Institute of Policy Studies.