This page will feature writing related to particular items in the news, and issues with a more regional focus.

On Remembrance Day

Possibly the strangest thing to surface in light of Britain’s Remembrance Day, was this storm in a teacup about certain people failing to wear a red poppy. Yes, a perceived *failure to remember* the wars and fallen of the past – where that red poppy pin is the necessary outward symbol of having remembered them, lest we forget. What a load of codswallop.

For starters, when we hear the words “they served” and “we shall remember them” it is assumed to be a very homogeneous “they”. And I guess “they” would have been very homogeneous in the sense that rows of marching, uniformed men do tend to be homogeneous, having been virtually stripped of identity. But underneath that, those that go to war are not homogeneous in why they go and partake in wars. Nor are they homogeneous in how they feel about their ‘service’ after the fact, should they come back alive.  

Let’s see what some of the reasons might be for going to war, supposing it’s a choice: a belief in service to one’s country, doing one’s duty, a feeling of patriotic fervour, strident nationalism, allegiance to the monarch or leader, because all of one’s mates are going, in defence of values, to protect one’s children and those less able to protect themselves, to defeat tyranny, to stand against tyranny, to be a man, to die for a worthy cause, to fight, to avenge, to have an adventure and see some of the world, to defeat the enemy, to preserve one’s country and culture…what else?

Now, to say this is a homogeneous group motivated by a common drive and purpose is a bit of a stretch. The urgency some were faced with – tyranny overrunning their lives — versus the distant wars that others joined as part of a commitment to empire, is another point of difference. So, when we hear of morning services, and solemnity at the local war memorial, or the wearing of poppies – these are valid expressions that serve the desires of *some* to outwardly display their remembrance of those who went to war, and of those who died. That this poppy has also come to symbolise some kind of militaristically minded, toxically patriotic nation state is unfortunate to say the least. The white poppy seems greatly preferable in what it stands for.   

I take my cue from my grandfather. He left England after the Second World War — in today’s terms it might be described as an attempt to ‘escape his demons’. He was largely successful in that, it would seem, although he was displeased to find they had ANZAC day commemorations in the new country. He wanted nothing to do with remembrances. From what I’ve heard, he didn’t understand why anyone would want to parade around years after the fact and remember any of it. He didn’t want his medals and tried at various times to dispose of them, to my grandmother’s dismay. Now, I’m not entirely sure if it was the bad memories themselves, the horror of war, the silly military hierarchies and orders given, or some combination of all of it. Whatever it was, as far as he was concerned it was over and that was all there was to it.

I can only imagine what his response might have been to the idea that not wearing a poppy was some kind of blasphemy. As for performative poppy-wearing, the whole business of remembrance feels performative in light of the ongoing war in Europe.   

Talking about Police Culture

The case of Jevon McSkimming, a senior New Zealand police officer who accessed child exploitation and bestiality material, has raised many questions. I am not sure what is most concerning – the fact of his offending, the police responses to it, or his own account of why he did it. I do not wish to dwell on the first point, nor the allegations of sexual misconduct. While his behaviour has been condemned and disowned by New Zealand Police, it would seem there is little interest in understanding why someone – specifically a senior police employee — might do such things, and what all of this says about wider police culture.

It is hard to accept any move by Police to distance themselves from McSkimming – something they’ve already started to do. With a 29-year career in the police service, McSkimming was no new-kid on the block. I suspect there might be some who would point to him having entered the police in what were very different times, with different attitudes and outlooks. That much I could just about accept. While the police may well want to paint McSkimming as a ‘bad apple’ that came out of nowhere, I think it is important to recognise that the apple in question was very much a product, and a part of, police culture. That culture has thrown up bad apples in the past, and simply shutting these instances down and trying to stamp them out, does not address the underlying reasons for such behaviours arising and going unnoticed in the first place.

Second, attempts to ringfence the revelations as a problem relating exclusively to the police’s leadership team, or a ‘past executive’ cannot be taken seriously. It is fair to say that the actions of one person do not reflect the rest of an organisation or a wider group. But when it comes to police, those at the top are generally quick to point out their links to ‘the frontline’, and how much time they spent doing boots-on-the-ground stuff. Attitudes and values don’t come out of nowhere, so it’s only fair to expect a wide-ranging review of Police’s culture. It is therefore alarming to see the current commissioner quoted here, assuring new recruits that the problems are limited to “a small group of former, very senior police officers”. In the interests of integrity, he may want to start thinking about how the culture and character of the organisation as a whole, shapes the people who work there. Pasting a line of words that represent ‘values’ across the bottom of emails doesn’t mean that they magically appear in practice.

When it comes to police culture, the notion of the ‘blue family’, otherwise know as ‘the police family’ is often referred to. This is generally understood as the police being bound together, looking out for each other, and effectively being like one big family. This has both positive and negative implications. Looking at the positives, it could suggest effective teamwork, bonding and strong relationships. But just as any family can be toxic, the ‘police family’ is no exception. If what is meant by the ‘blue family’ is a shuttered place where unhealthy attitudes grow, or bad behaviour is allowed to flourish unchecked because people ‘have each other’s backs’ and won’t say anything, then this becomes very toxic. So too with the ‘blue family’ that prioritises its own people over members of the public. Or the ‘blue family’ that does not know how to foster healthy dialogue, nor how to engage in difficult, or even regular, conversations. The fallout from McSkimming’s actions suggest that a combination of these factors might have been at play. 

The initial police focus in light of the McSkimming case has been on how to better monitor their electronic devices and secure the internet. I feel this largely misses the point. It’s a police force, not a high school: there shouldn’t be a need to put in place these kinds of controls for the people entrusted to do those jobs. We’re supposed to be able to trust them, that’s the whole point. And that’s the other thing that makes this offending so difficult to reconcile: the fact that it involved the very kind of exploitative material that police themselves are tasked with investigating and policing. The sensitivity of that material, and the fact that the victims are in an extremely vulnerable group, is a highly aggravating factor.

The various details of McSkimming’s offending, such as what search terms he entered, and how many of those terms were likely to return images of a certain kind – these are the kinds of ins and outs which might keep a jury occupied for hours. It does matter, particularly in terms of what he was hoping to turn up with some of his searches. We might wonder what he was trying to find with a search term like ‘nude nazi girl’. The Hitler Youth were a real thing, but it is not clear if that is what he was looking for. A word such as ‘girl’ can broadly refer to a female of any age if it is used informally, or it can refer specifically to a young child of female gender. Which of these was it that he was looking for images of? As for words like ‘abuse’ and ‘slave,’ these can likewise have different interpretations depending on context.

It is possible that he may also have been looking for images one might associate with particular sexual preferences – that of a kinky nature, or of what might be described as falling under the label of BDSM. McSkimming’s sexual preferences, or indeed the sexual preferences of any employee, are generally no business of their employer. However, in this case he very much brought his fantasies to work, where they manifested in behaviour that was illegal, and which many if not most people would deem inappropriate and unhealthy – particularly for someone working in such a role. A willingness to talk openly about relationships, in all their different forms, might be helpful here. So too with boundaries, informed consent and distinctions between what might be acceptable in different contexts.

Suppose that McSkimming had been viewing explicit images of adults who had freely agreed to put themselves online. That would be different again. We would be highly likely to conclude that this was not something he should be doing on work time. And we might perceive it as being inappropriate full stop, depending on our views. Critical to all of this is the matter of consent. And consent, at its most basic level, is something the police need to think seriously about. Not only is it critical to much of the work they do, but it is hard to see how they can hold any serious idea of what it really means in practice without being able to talk openly about it, and promote healthy expressions and validations of it.

More recently, the Police Commissioner gave the impression that a ‘get hard on integrity’ approach was what was needed. An analogy that comes to mind is that of putting out fires without looking at why they started, or what conditions might have led them to take off the way they did. There are parallels here with a ‘let’s get tough on crime’ approach. This is broadly the idea of going after offenders, putting them in jail, showing no mercy and feeling like a good day’s work has been done. What this approach fails to do is look at the wider circumstances, or attempt to understand why certain patterns of offending occur, and possibly reoccur, and what might be driving them. It is punitive and strict, but it does not really get to the root of the problem at all.

Turning to what we know of the reasons for McSkimming’s offending, then. In his own words, McSkimming said he needed pornography to “make him feel anything”. Now, these do not seem like the words of a psychologically happy, healthy, adult male, let alone those of the country’s second most senior cop. However, that is how it was for him, as he has said. It brings to mind why some people might resort to self-harm – out of a desperate sense that feeling something, even pain, is better than feeling nothing at all. His words could point to a deep existential boredom – a boredom so deep that there was nothing that could pull him out of it except looking at these images. In that respect, his behaviour would perhaps come closer to a form of addiction. Alternatively, it could hint at some kind of dissociative state, where the physical McSkimming was at his desk, but his soul or spirit was essentially so far away as to be wholly inaccessible to him. Puzzling, but possible. Without knowing his background, one can only surmise. As with any offender, it is possible to look at his offending and to see the actions of a potentially sad, lonely, troubled and rather desperate individual.      

Again, there have been noises made about how vetting can’t have been sufficient — the implication here being that someone should have been looking at what his search history was, particularly during work hours. Would it have been less bad had he been doing it on his own device outside of work? And is trawling through each employee’s search history necessary to protect against this kind of thing? If it is, it would seem there is little reason to have any confidence in police whatsoever. The issue, at its most fundamental, is one of the character of individuals, their attitudes and what I would call their social health.

Even in light of what we now know about how the McSkimming case unfolded, we might still wonder how an individual with this kind of mindset essentially flew under the radar of many other presumably competent, healthy and well-rounded individuals. It is my opinion that with his 29-year career in the police, those working with McSkimming should have had a clear idea of his character, and maybe even some sense of what was going on in his personal life. That is a failing of police culture, and not something that an ‘Integrity Unit’ or more vetting can reasonably be expected to pick up. This brings me back to the earlier mention of ‘the police family’ and how this can be both a healthy and unhealthy influence depending on how it develops, and the attitudes and values it decides to foster and cultivate as its own. Apart from attempts to ‘cover someone’s back’, it appears there were attempts to prioritise career moves for those in one’s inner circle. I would guess there might also have been an element of not really knowing at all, and a sense of being unsure as to which way to go, or how to proceed, or even of just trying to block things out altogether. Possibly there was also a lack of care, interest and understanding.    

More broadly this a question of what kind of a police force we want to have, composed of what kinds of people. To think that vetting, or checking search histories, or putting controls on peoples’ internet use is the answer, is a typically bureaucratic, technocentric answer to what is really a matter of the heart. Good conduct and integrity don’t get talked into being by government ministers or commissioners. Healthy, consensual relationships, being able to talk to each other, being open about feelings – even awkward ones, and prioritising care for each other might be a good start. While it may be tempting for police to distance themselves and slam the door on this as an isolated incident, the nature of the job and its demands are such that it would be unwise not to look at the wider culture and how it might have contributed. 

Privilege in Disgrace

There is privilege, and then there is privilege in disgrace. It is something I’ve noticed a couple of times over the past year, when considering high-profile employment scandals. There is a tendency to place great emphasis on a full and fair investigation of whatever these high-profile individuals might have done, or been involved in, after the fact. There is good reason for this when it comes to those at the top – and that is public interest. That is to say, if it is a case of public trust and confidence being invested in those under investigation, then it is perhaps desirable that no stone be left unturned in finding out the full story. When scandals or issues affect those at the bottom, this public interest factor is generally lacking. So, there may be less of a perceived ‘need’ to go after the facts of the case. Although there may be other reasons to do so, such as fairness, justice and critically – improvement — the costs and investment of time and effort may not be seen as being worth it.

There are other differences too. Those at the top can generally afford legal representation of a high standard. This means that if they wish to argue the point, then they are in a strong and privileged position to do so. Comments made in a recent case highlight this fear of individuals who can afford to wage a lengthy legal battle. Those at the top may get ‘special leave’ while lengthy investigations are allowed to run their course. This is to protect what are perceived to be their important dignities and interests as privileged professionals.  In the case of those at the bottom who never had this kind of exorbitant salary to start with, there is unlikely to be much in the way of compensation, or even much in the way of consideration.

Apart from the obvious ethical implications which should concern all of us, the other overriding impression is one of vast inequality. Here are people who have it in their power to make decisions for the better on a daily basis – something out of reach to most of us — who are paid extraordinary amounts for the privilege of doing so. We are expected, as tax payers or members of the public, to afford them respect, taxes and gratitude for their ‘service’. None of it really stacks up. It is unclear how much have any of these people might have experienced of the other side of life, except from the position of privilege afforded by their roles and status in society. For some, it is possibly not until their reputations are abruptly called into question through a costly, taxpayer funded inquiry that they really have to start thinking about other paths in life at all. And even then, it is with the funds of that career solidly behind them.

Taken together, all of this smacks of vast entitlement. It is of a kind with the entitlement of politicians engaged in comfortable debates while parts of the population sleep in cars. It is comparable with pampered poodles being dressed in luxury coats for a walk in the park, while others starve. If these individuals of privilege were really intent on changing the world for the better, it seems unlikely they would be taking in six-digit salaries and paid leave the way they are.

Meanwhile in New Zealand – Honouring Privilege

The new year brought news from New Zealand: the judge who chaired the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in State Care was made a Dame. In receiving that honour she joins a long line of people awarded state honours simply for doing their jobs. Just to be clear, we’re not talking about her joining the ranks of the receptionists who cheerfully fielded years of complaints from difficult customers, or the factory workers who kept showing up despite years of low wages and lack of fulfillment. She is not just one of any number of workers or professionals who did their jobs through difficult times, appearing each day again with a renewed resolve to give it their best.  

No, the judge will join the ranks of privilege including former Prime ministers, for example. She joins the ranks of those who will say it is such an “honour” and a “privilege” to be where they are, having the power to lead, to “give back”, to make decisions on behalf of others, and to have a meaningful impact on lives and outcomes. She will join the ranks of those who get paid exceptional salaries for their ‘selfless service’ to the community; those whose benefits might continue for a lifetime. In New Zealand, it is virtually by right that the prime minister becomes a dame or knight upon conclusion of their time in office. What they do or don’t do while in office is virtually irrelevant. When they lead the country through ‘difficult times’ it is not simply regarded as them doing their job as they’re supposed to, but as something honourable. Although they were elected to office with the expectation of serving the country through both easy and hard times, they can expect to receive the highest honours for doing so.

John Key and Jacinda Ardern are two recent New Zealand prime ministers who received this honour. Key had the extraordinary misfortune of the Global Financial Crisis to deal with, as well as a mine disaster where 29 workers lost their lives in a way that likely could have been avoided had there been greater interest in protecting workers lives over profits. Ardern was faced with a terrorist attack on two mosques, as well as the COVID-19 pandemic. Both prime ministers were therefore obvious candidates to have the highest honours bestowed on them. Key’s ‘flag referendum’ may have been a source of international comedy at the time, but it eventually became just another part of his knight-worthy legacy in New Zealand. When Ardern suddenly quit and walked out on her term in office, that was just water under the bridge. Never mind those who voted for her. She had shown some level of empathy in leading the country through difficult times, so that was it – Dame Ardern.

As for the judge of the Royal Commission, she didn’t lead the country. She chaired a large, bureaucratic and costly inquiry into the abuse of thousands of people while under the ‘care’ of the state, and faith-based institutions. Presumably the emotional sacrifice of hearing all those highly disturbing, traumatic and tragic stories deemed her a worthy candidate, as this interview suggests. That work has only gone some way in righting the wrongs of the past. And it has yet to completely change the present. Amongst the thousands of cases that the inquiry heard, there were survivors who showed extraordinary capacity for patience and civility. There were those who gave media interviews with an unbelievable sense of hope and optimism. Some persisted with bringing cases forward despite decades of being ignored and rejected, pushing forward again and again against the overwhelming odds of official indifference. Others retained their humanity under the most unimaginable of circumstances – withstanding the kind of treatment that would break most people. They have been heard, but they are not recognised.

In honouring the judge who presided over these cases as the “hero” who finally brought to light the truth of this dark chapter in its history, New Zealand begins a New Year very much true to its own tradition. In Aotearoa, it seems it is those of privilege who mean the most, are valued the most, and are recognised as being of critical importance to the community. Some might point to recipients of New Year’s honours who do not come from a background of privilege. While that may be so, in awarding the chair of the commission into abuse by the state the highest honours, rather than any number of survivors of state abuse, a familiar message is being transmitted yet again. It is a tacit signal that it is still the state and the employees or servants of the state that hold the answers. Even when the state fails to prevent decades of abuse; when it fails to respond to that abuse, and ignores and shuts down those who bravely come forward – it is eventually still the state that confers and takes the honours.