Thursday, 28 September 2017

Challenging the Neo-Liberal Academy and the Bigotry of Australasian Criminology

The following blog provides the full text of my plenary presentation at the recent Social Movement, Resistance and Social Change conference held at Massey University, Albany Campus, Auckland 6-8 September 2017


At the beginning of the 20th century, the African American scholar and researcher, Du Bois stated that the most significant problem that the fledgling social sciences would have to contend with throughout the coming century was the colour-line. By the term colour-line, Du Bois was referring to the state of relations between white and black, between Black American’s and the institutions that support white privilege and white supremacy, including the criminal justice system. Du Bois’ statement was not simply an attempt at far-sighted prediction, but a call to arms for social scientists and researchers to focus their collective efforts on the continued subjugation of Black Americans in the U.S. One could argue that a similar focus was necessary in the Settler-Colonial jurisdictions of New Zealand and Australia, herein referred to as ‘Australasia’.

Now let us leap forward in time, to 2010, where we find the Nigerian criminologist Biko Agozino, forcefully arguing that the discipline of criminology is a control freak, a white privilege-dominated social control fanatic whose epistemological foundations were laid during the colonialisation of Africa, North America and the Pacific, a history that provides the basis for understanding the disciplines continued role in Indigenous subjugation. It will come as no surprise to some of you to hear me say that I am in total agreement with Biko on this issue, as the discipline has long approached Indigenous peoples as problem populations in need of significant social management through:

  • targeted surveillance (especially through racialised policing);
  • geographical containment (in reservations and boarding schools to begin with, and of late via the prison industrial complex of late modernity); and
  • ‘correction’ through a liberal dose of the gift of western knowledge, usually in the form of psycho-therapeutic programmes and other, similar Eurocentric interventions. 

I have two objectives today: Firstly: to reveal the colonial foundations of the discipline of criminology, a fact, a ‘happening’ about which most of its disciples appear ignorant of, or choose the comfort of collective amnesia, a convenient forgetfulness that allows them to portray themselves as ‘objective’ commentators on the Indigenous issues. Secondly: I will argue that the discipline of criminology has indeed become a control freak, with many of its adherents working tirelessly, and with prejudice to protect their hegemony over the production of what their key sponsor, the settler-colonial state defines as  ‘legitimate knowledge’ about crime and crime control, most especially in relation to the ‘Indigenous problem’. I will endeavour to reveal the disciplines control freak tendencies by employing Agamben’s theory of the State of Exception to critically analyse the role the discipline of criminology plays in this process, with reference to what I call the Three Pillars of Exception and Exclusion in Australasian Criminology. But first I want to make some comments about the colonial foundations of the discipline of criminology.

A Comment on the Colonial Foundations of Criminology

It is a well-worn refrain of historians, and some social scientists, that in order to understand the present you need to understand the past. And so it is with attempting to ‘know’ why a community of scholars, in this case criminologists, conduct themselves in certain ways today. Harry Blagg, Biko Agozino, Chris Cunneen, amongst others, have drawn attention to the historical connections between the development of criminology and criminal justice in the  and 19th and early 20th century centuries, and the inter-related projects of colonialism and Western imperialism. And yet, despite all this critical analysis, Australasian criminologists generally operate without a theory of colonialism and its effects on Indigenous peoples, most especially the not insignificant, growing group of non-Indigenous criminologists specialising in what they call ‘Indigenous justice’. 

Biko Agozino, in his 2003 book Counter Colonial Criminology: A Critique of Imperialist Reason, demonstrates how the developing disciplines of criminology and psychology trialled their theories and related social and control policies and interventions, on the dispossessed and suppressed First Peoples of Africa, before taking what they learnt and refining them for use on the social damned of Europe, the poor, the travellers, Jewish communities, to name but a few. The lack of awareness of, or willingness to confront its colonial past, is a fundamental weakness of neoliberal ‘mainstream’ criminology; a weakness that makes many of its adherents blind to the intersectional drivers of contemporary Indigenous over-representation.

Especially concerning for those of us working in the field of Indigenous justice, is that ‘Western’ criminology appears to be largely immune to the pleadings of Agozino, Cunneen and others, that it extricate itself from yet another related blind spot that many of its adherents suffer from; namely its role as a Colonial Project that supports the Settler-Colonial states continued subjugation of Indigenous people. As the saying goes, people who ignore the lessons of the past are bound to repeat them. Although of course, that refrain is predicated on a belief that people in general and the Settler-Colonial state and white privileged criminologists specifically, are capable of recognising that their failed policies, legislation, interventions, even theories, as ‘mistakes’, as being the cause, partial or wholly, of social injustice, dispossession, social exclusion, and genocide. I contend that deep down, in their quiet, contemplative moments, many Australasian criminologists are well aware that they and their discipline ‘wear no clothes’. I also believe that upon focused, critical self-reflection, their complicity in the subjugation of Indigenous people, is, or will be exposed, which is probably why most of them show an aversion to researching it, acknowledging it, or  attempt to understand it.

This now brings me to the last part of my presentation; the exposure of the rapacious, prejudiced and subjugating tendencies of Australasian criminology; a discipline, as I pointed out earlier, that is very  much in the service of the Settler-Colonial state.

The Three Pillars of Exception and Exclusion in Australasian Criminology

What is now apparent is the capacity of contemporary criminology, in partnership with the Settler-Colonial state to blatantly sideline and silence Indigenous peoples. It is most especially skilled in silencing our experiences of contemporary crime control, and pushing genocidal crime control policies, legislation and interventions upon us, despite overwhelming evidence of their failure, by any measure, to reduce recidivism, or make our communities safer.

I contend that this places us in a state of exception to mainstream criminology and given, their parasitic relationship, to the Settler-Colonial states of New Zealand and Australia. Tactics of active exclusion can be purposely formed, as in having a clearly stated intention to exclude, such as the Northern Territory Emergency Response that was introduced by the Howard government in 2007. Or, it can be subtle, with intentions hidden among the meaningless rhetoric employed by the professional academic concerned to protect their social justice credentials. Exceptional measures of exclusion permeate the discipline of criminology’s relationship with Indigenous peoples; and why would they not, given the historical development of the discipline and its relationship with the state.

My argument that we are in a ‘state of exception’ to Settler-Colonial criminology comes from Agamben’s theory of the same, a process whereby the modern democratic state exclude certain groups from the space within which the advantages of citizenship, including human rights, are present. Furthermore, those in the state of exception, thus excluded, receive the legitimate forms of violence available to the modern democratic state – including I would argue, the violence that is the criminal justice system.

This violence manifests in many forms: social, political, economic and (not always but sometimes) geographic exclusions, denial of citizenship rights, refusal to engage with people in order to meaningfully include their perspectives and experience in the development of policy and initiatives, the homogenisation and stereotyping of individuals, and at times entire communities. Other manifestations include the development of policies for them as a separate group based on Eurocentric formulations, wielded upon the bodies of Indigenous peoples by agents of the sovereign state.

Hold a mirror up to academic, Australasian criminology and you will see many, if not all of these strategies deployed by many of its practitioners against Indigenous peoples. It is my contention that criminology, as a Colonial Project in support of the Settler-Colonial state, has throughout its history created Indigenous peoples as a problem population, a criminalised population, in need of significant surveillance and control. We are, for all intent and purposes, placed in a state of exception, ear-marked for exclusion, and by that I mean excluded from meaningful input into the policy context by both the policy industry and the criminologists that further their careers by sucking on the funding teat of the state. 

Many of us excluded from the mainstream, and from the development of criminological knowledge because of the colours we choose to wear, because we belong to hard-to-reach communities (as Harry Tam refers to them, or 'gangs' in the policy and criminological lexicon), communities that many Australasian criminologists talk about, without ever having engaged with them. We are also excluded by dent of our significant involvement in the criminal justice system, and other social suppression processes such as child care and protection; governmental processes that criminologist played significant roles in developing.  

Our state of exception does not manifest through the amount of attention we receive from the either criminology or the institutions of crime control, but because of the nature and form of the surveillance and the absence of meaningful, respectful and empowering engagement. Because of our ‘state of exception’ the same rules that govern respectful dialogue and engagement with say the white middle class, are not extended to us - hardly surprising given that the vast majority of Australasian criminologists are white and middle class. We are exceptional in that crime control practitioners and white privileged criminologists do not see the need to conduct themselves ethically and respectfully towards us, as they would their own. And yet while they claim to specialise in Indigenous justice, few bother to even try to develop policies and interventions that support Indigenous self-determination. 

This now brings me to a discussion of the three pillars of exception and exclusion within Australasian criminology:

The First Pillar: The Lack of Respect and Regard for Indigenous Ways of Being

Many of the disciplines’ practitioners work tirelessly to silence the Indigenous experience, and the Indigenous critique, both of the discipline, and of the partner to which it has a parasitic relationship, the criminal justice system. I will go further and argue that the silencing of the Indigenous voice is a prerequisite for gaining entry into the policy and legislative functions of neo-liberal government. If you want a seat at the table and for your research to be accepted as valid, the experiences of the subjugated, those who are critical of government performance most especially, or who have or are resisting state hegemony, must either be expunged, or at the very least modulated to the point that the lived experience of bias, racism and subjugation is rendered mute. Replaced instead with facile, meaningless research summaries drawn from glorified, state-sanctioned customer satisfaction surveys.

If we had more time we could fill a whole plenary session with a discussion of the methods criminologists employs to ‘know us’, and what they consider to be valid forms of knowledge construction and dissemination. In the Indigenous context, all too often criminologists conduct research on Indigenous issues while proselytising from afar, utilising, for example, highly structured surveys, statistical modelling, and such like, whilst rarely (sometimes never) descending into the Indigenous space to engage with us face-to-face.

The Second Pillar: The Banality of Academic Criminological Racism and Bias

In a thought-provoking piece on the support her discipline gave to the colonial context, Wendy James referred to anthropologists as ‘reluctant imperialists’, meaning that their support for the colonising enterprise was largely unplanned or unintentional. Arguably, in seeking to ‘do good’ by Indigenous peoples, anthropologists inadvertently provided empirical support to the colonial enterprise of dispossession.  

I am reluctant to offer many criminologists the same benefit of the doubt: for example, what are we to make of the continued control-freak tendencies of Australasian criminology, especially its more authoritarian adaptations? Far too often the criminological focus remains on the individual native; an individual divorced from their social, historical and structural context, as is often the case in the work of adherents who dismiss the validity of Indigenous forms of knowledge. For an example of this bias, let us contemplate for a moment how it came to be that Don Weatherburn, in a book on Aboriginal imprisonment published in 2014, felt empowered enough to argue that all we needed to know about crime, we could receive from Western science, and by inference that Indigenous ‘knowledge’ has little to offer for an understanding of social harm.  

This type of action cannot, should not be easily dismissed as 'accidental', unintentional incidents of cultural imperialism ala James’ defence of anthropology. And Weatherburn’s attitude is one that is commonly held by white privileged, Australasian criminologists. It is in my experience common place; it is insidious, and it is a reflection of the casual nature of the cultural imperialism that exists in the criminological academy in both jurisdictions.

The Third Pillar: The Criminalisation of Indigenous Women, Men and Culture

One often repeated claim is that the criminological attention has moved too far from individual ‘pathology’, to the crime control institutions of the Settler-Colonial state, and the effects of colonial and neo-colonial policy. As a result, this shift in analysis has resulted in ineffective policies and interventions for reducing Indigenous over-representation. The recommended solution should  come as no surprise: we must return the criminological gaze firmly back to the much neglected Aboriginal, pathological individual, dysfunctional family unit, and for the likes of Don Weatherburn in Australia, and here in the New Zealand context, that well-researched expert on the Maori condition, Greg Newbold, firmly back to the criminalising cultures of the Aboriginal peoples and Maori people. Similarly, Danette Marie, in her commentary on the New Zealand situation published in a special edition of the Australian New Zealand Journal of Criminology in 2010, blames the inability of the justice system to solve the ‘Indigenous problem,’ on ‘critical liberals’ like myself, whose efforts have apparently ‘not led to more effective measures of crime control within Indigenous communities or to sustained reductions in the rate of criminalisation and incarceration’. 

Now, one would suppose from this description of Indigenous experiences of Australasian crime control that suddenly prisons were empty and police no longer patrolled Indigenous communities incessantly. You could easily form the impression that Aboriginal/Maori offenders are diverted into adjudication processes dominated by Indigenous peoples, that they receive predominantly non-custodial forms of punishment when sentenced, and if they receive such a sentence, end up serving their sentence in a ‘Indigenous cultural unit’ or in a half-way house. And of course, upon release return to communities that have benefited from the extensive infrastructural, social and economic investment by government. Of course, this is not the situation at all. Yes, unquestionably the actions of the ‘legal-welfare establishment’ has led to the introduction of a range of diversionary policies and strategies, and the introduction of restorative-centred justice processes, Aboriginal Liaison Officers, Iwi Liaison Officers, prison-based cultural units like the Maori Focus Units in New Zealand, and so forth. Yet, despite all of this activity, the impression given by Marie and Weatherburn of the ‘failure’ of liberal policy discourse and the critical focus on structure and institutions is a gross exaggeration. At no time during the period in which Indigenous over-representation has been a significant issue for the Policy Industry (around the early 1980s in both Australia and New Zealand), has the liberal perspective dominated crime control policy in either jurisdiction. Furthermore, if we accept the alternative argument, that in fact the vast majority of crime control spend in Australia and New Zealand since 1980 has been on imported crime control policies and interventions, and not on Indigenous-inspired ones, then where is the evidence that the western, scientific response to the Indigenous problem has significantly reduced Indigenous over-representation, or made us better, or safer?

Wednesday, 30 August 2017

Maori Engagement with New Zealand's Child Care and Protection Industry

The following figures relate to recent Maori engagement with New Zealand's care and protection/youth 'justice' systems.  The figures were provided by Poara Moyle, which graciously agreed to have them published on this blog.  If you are interested in an Indigenous-centred, critical perspective on the care and protection industry's impact on Maori, or wish to engage with material aimed at developing empowering social work practice, visit Paora's webpage at

I am providing this information here to a) enhance understanding of Maori experience of the industry, and b) as a source for researchers and students interested in this area of sociological/criminological/social work scholarship:

In the 2012 ‐ 2013 year, 80 Maori newborns were removed from their mother within the first 30 days of their birth. More than half of the total newborn uplifts. (Bernadette McKenzie, Deputy Chief Executive, Child Youth and Family, personal communication, June, 6, 2014).

Since then, uplifted Maori newborns have increased to 64% of the total (I would argue give or take the professional defining/recording the ethnicity, it could be as high as 2/3s of the total uplifts).

A snapshot view of the Ministry of Social Development (MSD)/Child Youth and Family (CYF)/Ministry of Vulnerable Children (MVC) statistics for the years 2006 – 2017 shows the most increasing client group is the under 5s (including unborn). From 2006 - 2011 under 5s increased whilst the 6-9, 10-13, 16-17 age groups, decreased.

For the same period there was a steady increase for Maori having had a new care and protection Family Group Conference (FGC), whilst the Pakeha (European) client group decreased. From 2011-2017 the older age groups have remained fairly static.

‘New’ FGCs are held for new care and protection concerns. During the period 2006 - 2011 there was a 27% increase (4447 to 5667) in 'new' FGCs. The biggest increase were for the under fives 44% of the total. FGCs for Māori increased to 53% of the total.

From the CYF figures for the period 2010 to 2017 the overall number of Maori children and young people uplifted into state care increased, whilst Pakeha numbers decreased. In 2017 Maori make up 62% of the total (3439 of 5,603). The fastest growing client group over this time being the under 5’s.

Also in 2017, the number of distinct children and young people in the custody of the Chief Executive increased by 8% from the previous year (from 5,204 to 5,603).

Maori make up 62% of the total (3439 of 5,603) and this had increased 6% from the previous year.

There was also an 8% increase in the number of out-of-home placements (from 4,260 to 4,609). The most increasing client group of out-of-home placements being the under 5s. With the most increasing ethnicity of out-of-home placements being Māori at 61%, whilst Pakeha are decreasing.

This shows overwhelmingly that Maori are being targeted, particularly the under 5s, which fits with what young wahine Maori and Kaimahi in Refuge, MVC and Family Court are reporting their experiences to be, especially around the FGC being used to justify/rubber stamp state enforcement. stamp state enforcement. 

Thursday, 14 July 2016

Gangs and the Politics of Crime Control Policy in New Zealand

A while back I wrote a couple of blogs that contained commentary on the short-sightedness and the condescension that underpins the crime control policy sector in New Zealand when it comes to gangs and development 'effective interventions' (see A Commentary on the Stage Management of Policy Consultation and Policy Development, and Is New Zealand's Policy Sector Evidence-Based, Part 2). Recent events in New Zealand show that another discussion on this issue is necessary. So here goes, and my apologies for repeating some of the points included in the previous blogs:

The Minister of Corrections, gangs and rehabilitation
Recently, the Minister of Corrections in the New Zealand government, Judith Collins, called for a particular individual, Ngapari Nui, to be removed from his position as Kaiwhakamana, a volunteer position through which he worked with inmates in Whanganui prison to assist them to prepare for life outside prisons walls.  Mr Nui had been functioning in this role for five years.

Before I begin my critique on the recent behaviour of Ms Collins, and the Chief Executive of Corrections, Ray Smith, it is worthwhile revisiting a statement I made about the policy response to gangs in a previous blog:

"I have exposed that an unwritten rule of government agencies in New Zealand is that they 'don't work with gangs', which also means that officials cannot be seen to engage with gang members. Of course this rule is unwritten, and its application is, as always, contingent upon specific events and the attitudes of individual government officials. For example, the late, former Prime Minister Robert Muldoon was well known for his willingness to engage with gang leaders, and indeed supported the development and implementation of labour schemes for gangs. Similarly, the ex-Minister of Maori Affairs, Pita Sharples was not shy about engaging with gangs, or attending community forums where it was known they would be attending. And of course Te Puni Kokiri, as the lead government adviser on Maori issues, would also seek to engage with gangs to inform the development of social policy; although I wonder how long this enlightened approach to policy development will last at the Ministry now that Harry Tam no longer works there... my guess is, not long. During my time at the Ministry it became increasingly obvious that most of its tertiary educated, middle class Maori analysts had much more in common with their white counterparts at Treasury than they did with working class Maori, and were no more willing to, or better at, engaging with 'hard to reach' communities like gangs or youth offenders. And so, as a general rule Ministers of the Crown and government officials avoid engaging with gang members at all costs, even when, in the case of Ministry of Social Development officials, they are actually tasked with developing and implementing a 'gang strategy'!"

Ms Collins recent behaviour directly mirrors the conduct of the policy sector described above, and the core principle that forms the basis of it; that meaningful engagement with gangs to inform policy is a no no.  The same goes for Ray Smith, Chief Executive of Corrections, behaviour as he moves to support and implement the directives of his minister.

I agree with Harry Tam's recent statement that after being dropped from Cabinet for questionable behaviour, Collins is using the 'ban the gangs' rhetoric and related behaviour such as having gang affiliated individuals removed from volunteer positions in prisons to 'prove' herself again; to show how tough she is. In my view she is doing so at the expense of the delivery of meaningful support for inmates.

In fact, I contend that the Minister's recent, frothy exhortation that the only place for gang members in prisons is as inmates underlines the key argument I made in the blog mentioned above, that the claims of Corrections and other crime control policy shops in New Zealand to be 'evidence-based' is often a load of bullshit. Both the Minister's and the Chief Executive's conduct underlines the political, subjective, rhetorical foundations of the crime control policy sector in New Zealand. And it is important for us to recognise that this is the basis of crime control policy, especially if we are  interested in formulating nuanced understandings of why this particular policy sector does such a shite job at developing and implementing meaningful policies and interventions. For example, it is worth asking why the Department of Corrections can't get close to its stated aims of reducing reoffending rates amongst its 'clients' (10% when IOM was first introduced back in the 2000s, updated more recently to 20% plus... how's that going so far Ms Collins, Ray Smith?  Not even close, eh?). One reason might just possibly be a total disconnect on the part of the Minister, the Chief Executive and the policy arm of the department, from the individuals, whanau and communities they supposedly serve.

And Finally, A Disclosure
Readers should be aware when reading this blog that:
1. I currently have cousins who are members of the Mongrel Mob, and one of my uncles was once a member of the Black Power.
2. I worked for 2 years with a man who is a life-member of the Mongrel Mob, and
3. In my capacity as a policy analyst from 1999-2009 from time-to-time I engaged with gang members while working on projects.

Under the rather 'fluid' definitions of gang member' and 'gang associate' employed by the crime control sector in New Zealand, these 'facts' will come in handy when they contemplate how to respond to this blog (if they contemplate it at all, of course!). If they decided to respond, the tactics will likely be similar to those recently used by NZ Police to block researcher Jarrod Gilbert from carrying out research, by designating me as either a 'gang associate' or as having 'known gang associations', thereby rendering my stance, my comments 'questionable'.

You see, this is how things work in New Zealand's crime control sector: gangs and gang members are the bogie man/woman par excellence. You need to divert attention away from your agency's or your government's crap social policy performance?  Easy. Manufacture a moral panic about youth gang violence as government, police, policy makers and media did in the mid 2000s. Want to block someone from doing critical, independent research? Easy: make exaggerated claims of 'gang association or affiliation' as NZ Police did recently in order to stifle the work of criminologist and social researcher Jarrod Gilbert. Need to appear tough to your colleagues, the media  and uninformed, bigoted, dumbass voters? Not a problem: simply force the removal of men like Ngapari Nui from doing work that you, your advisors and your policy workers could not do, such as work with gang members and inmates to help turn them away from crime and prepare them for reintegration back into the community. Because Ms Collin's, the arrogance, the condescension, and the lack of policy smarts behind your comment that the only place in prisons for gang members is as inmates, is exposed by the very fact that at some point these same gang members will be (drum roll inserted here).... released!

As both Harry Tam and Edge Te Whaiti recently stated on national television in New Zealand, the reason why it is important to enable Ngapari Nui and others like him to work with gang members and other inmates, is because it is much easier for them to do so due to their social and familial affiliations and their knowledge and experience of the gang lifestyle. Based on my experience working in the policy sector, it is nigh-on impossible for the likes of Collins, Ray Smith or any of the crime control policy people currently sitting in cafes on Lambton Quay, Wellington to do the work that Harry, Edge and Ngapari choose to do (and with the ignorance and bias that many of the policy sector hold for Maori, offenders and gangs, nor would you want them to be doing that work).

Few of them would have the first clue how to engage with gang members or their whanau; a fact evident in the woeful standard of policy development across the entire New Zealand crime control sector. Even the most superficial reading of major policy projects undertaken since the late 1990s, such as RObM (Reoffending by Maori), The Crime Reduction Strategy, Effective Interventions and so on, quickly reveals the lack of capability the sector has for engaging meaningfully with 'communities of concern', like gangs, offenders, victims, service providers, Maori per se, etc, etc. 

And so, Ms Collin's and Mr Smith, how about you set aside your uninformed, ideologically-driven, unevidenced, prejudicial response to gangs and the people associated with them, and allow men like Ngapari Nui to get on with the job of helping inmates turn their lives around. How about putting aside your need to score meaningless political points, or to secure your fat yearly bonus, and work to develop effective responses to the significant issues facing our communities. What do you think... time for a mature policy response to gangs in New Zealand? That would be great, but given the current crop of politicians and senior public servants in New Zealand, I won't hold my breath.