Fairness for whom?

Winston Peters has declared war on “DEI” — a foe that doesn’t exist in Aotearoa, argues Joshua Koko.

 

Winston Peters is dismissing “DEI” as “nonsense” while appearing confused about what DEI — a US-derived term to refer to diversity, equity and inclusion policies for employment — actually covers.

He rails against the Public Service Commissioner’s duty “to develop a workforce that reflects societal diversity,” yet doesn’t seem to realise that his party’s constitution — which includes guidance to consider gender, social groups, ages and ethnicity in candidate list rankings — is fundamentally the same thing.

He has tabled a bill to remove diversity and inclusion policies from the Public Service Act, despite admitting, via written parliamentary questions, that he has issued no formal directives, commissioned no reviews, and has received no advice on the existence or performance of equity policies in Aotearoa.

This isn’t policy-making — it’s political theatre, aping the aggressive strategy of a certain foreign leader to mask an ideological obsession with removing Indigenous and Te Tiriti-based rights in our country.

In Aotearoa, we don’t have “DEI” in the US sense. We have frameworks aimed at fairness, many of which are grounded in the fact that our country is founded on a treaty, Te Tiriti o Waitangi. These include Tiriti-based roles and responsibilities in our public service, public procurement policies supporting Māori and Pacific businesses, Living Wage agreements, pay equity settlements, and cultural safety strategies in health and social services, to name a few.

These are not ideology — they are what real fairness looks like. They represent a small but critical part of upholding Te Tiriti o Waitangi. They’re also part of ensuring that our public institutions reflect the reality of our diverse society.

Māori make up 17.8 percent of the population. Pasifika communities account for 8.9 percent. Whaikaha (disabled) whānau represent nearly 24 percent. Rainbow communities are approximately 4.4 percent. And let’s not forget women — who, despite being 50.5 percent of the population, are persistently underpaid compared to men.

So when policies designed to make life fairer for these groups are misrepresented and undermined with a derisive sneer about “DEI”, it affects a significant portion of Aotearoa, far more than the few whom certain politicians claim are missing out on “fairness”.

This isn’t about identity politics — it’s about proportional impact. When half the country is affected by the removal of fairness frameworks, it becomes a central concern, not a fringe debate.

A pervasive myth claims that diversity and inclusion policies undermine “merit” as if those who benefit from fairness policies either have no merit, or that success is purely an individual effort.

Quite obviously, some people inherit advantages: intergenerational wealth, elite education, influential networks. Meanwhile, others face systemic barriers, which include racial discrimination in hiring, gender bias in leadership, inaccessible workplaces, and — for Māori — the continuing failure to uphold the terms of Te Tiriti and provide for tino rangatiratanga.

It’s common for those who are beneficiaries of their circumstances (which can be something as simple as skin colour) to proclaim that their journey has been merit-based and “earned”. They perpetuate a narrative that others “aren’t trying hard enough,” conveniently ignoring how the system was built in their favour.

Judith Collins wants a “culture of yes” in the public sector, arguing that bureaucracy and fairness frameworks stifle efficiency. But her vision of meritocracy ignores how the rules have long favoured some and excluded others. In dismissing diversity-focused hiring, Collins fails to acknowledge that representation isn’t about quotas — it’s about addressing historical exclusion.

Meanwhile, Nicola Willis, in her mission to “simplify” procurement, is removing policies that helped Māori and Pacific-owned businesses gain access to public sector contracts.

She’s also scrapping Living Wage requirements for contracted government workers in security, cleaning, and catering — jobs predominantly held by Māori, Pacific, and migrant women. She hasn’t audited these policies for effectiveness — she is simply removing them, favouring ideology over evidence.

She calls this “restoring fairness.” But upholding a system that shuts out so many isn’t fairness. It’s erasure.

Equity isn’t a barrier to competition — it’s what makes competition meaningful. It allows a broader pool of participants who better reflect our population, leading to more sustainable economic and social growth.

The current rollbacks come with real consequences. Workers who are already living paycheck to paycheck are effectively being told to “compete” — even as they’re priced out of survival. Nicola Willis insists that this isn’t a race to the bottom. But, for many, the bottom is already here. Having a job no longer guarantees the ability to feed, clothe and house a family.

There’s a fair critique that says some diversity and inclusion policies haven’t delivered. That they’ve been too focused on optics and not enough on action.

And it’s true. Some equity programmes are poorly executed. Workplace training programmes can be box-ticking exercises that feel empty and performative. And recruitment practices that prioritise “diversity hiring” can overlook the systemic changes needed for people to thrive once hired.

But the answer isn’t to remove these policies. It’s to make them better. If a workplace hires someone based on equity principles but fails to support them into leadership roles, that’s not a failure of equity — it’s a failure of follow-through.

The real issue isn’t identity politics or “wokeness”. It’s that systems of power aren’t willing or able to shift fast enough to whakamana (support) equity to properly activate the untapped potential of our full population.

Consider the latest disability data report: it showed that disabled workers face higher levels of income insecurity, underemployment, and workplace inaccessibility.

The report gives policymakers real evidence-based data to inform decisions that affect whaikaha communities. It helps ensure that disabled communities are more visible in policy and economic planning.

Where did that data come from? Equity policies. Without them, this work doesn’t happen, and entire communities remain invisible in government planning.

Or look at the recent gender pay gap announcement. On International Women’s Day, the Minister for Women reported that the gender pay gap in the public sector had narrowed by 8.6 percent — a direct result of deliberate, equity-focused policy.

Is Winston Peters prepared to tell women across Aotearoa — especially Māori, Pacific, and disabled women — that their fight for equal pay is “nonsense”? That their ability to earn a little bit more now has been a “woke” waste of time?

These outcomes don’t happen by accident. They happen because of policy — the very kind now being dismantled.

We’re seeing fairness frameworks that were built through solidarity undermined by politics built for spectacle. But history has also shown that when we hold the line on fairness, we reshape the future for generations.

Change doesn’t come from waiting — it comes from action. The hīkoi to Wellington, the voices raised against the Treaty principles bill, and the resistance against every attempt to erase equity all testify to this truth.

Systems are the result of people making decisions. They can be redesigned. Power can be rebalanced. Fairness is not a luxury or a trend — it’s the foundation of a government that works for everyone, not just a privileged few.

So when Judith Collins talks about “merit”, and Nicola Willis talks about “fairness”, we must always ask: Fairness for whom?

 

Joshua Koko (Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Manu’a o Amerika Hāmoa, Ngāti Pākehā o Aotearoa) is a strategist and navigator focused on kaupapa Māori, governance, and systemic change in social services, development, local government, and health. He worked for a decade in corporate marketing and communications in Melbourne returning home to Aotearoa in 2013. Joshua holds postgraduate qualifications in Māori development and change management.

E-Tangata, 2025