‘Given the magnitude, pervasiveness and gravity of the problems we face today, our engagement with, and questioning of, our government institutions, and demand for meaningful action are more important than ever before.’
So writes Catherine Knight, historian and author of two previous books about environmental issues, New Zealand Rivers and Ravaged Beauty. In the introduction to this book, she quotes well-known (but still shocking) statistics about the number of engangered species, the polluted state of many of our waterways, our high car ownership and poor record of reducing our carbon ommissions, and concludes ‘This is a lamentable record for a country that, a quarter a century ago, was held up as an environmental leader.’
As any good historian does, Knight then takes the reader back in time to make her case. Almost 50 years ago, Southland sheep farmer Ron McLean, an ‘unlikely environmentalist’, began a campaign to stop the desecration of Lake Manapōuri. Soon, he had 14 ‘Save Manapōuri’ committees established throughout the country, and by 1970 they had gathered the signatures of nearly one in 10 New Zealanders for a petition to government. Manapōuri was saved, and a conservation campaign had become nationwide and mainstream for the first time. Two important outcomes were the appointment of the first Minister for the Environment, and the development of environmental criteria for major public works. While conservationists were sorely disappointed with the lack of environmental consideration over the Clutha Dam and other ‘Think Big’ projects of the Muldoon government, the discontent these created was a major factor in the Fourth Labour Government’s decision to pass New Zealand’s first ‘all encompassing environmental legilsation’ – the Environment Act of 1986.
Knight also outlines another huge step forward, the establishment of the Department of Conservation, the independent Commissioner for the Environment and the Ministry for the Environment. Good progress, but Knight contends the latter became not so much an environmental advocate, as its name suggested, but instead a ministry of compromise, striving for ‘balance’ between the uneven playing fields of commerce and conservation.
The author also analyses the Resource Management Act, the establishment of the Environmental Defence Society and the nuclear power debate. We’re all proud of New Zealand’s nuclear free status now, but who remembers that in the early 1970s the government got as far as considering six sites for nuclear power stations? None other than British comedian Spike Milligan supported the anti-nuclear cause here, which did garner signatures from more than 10% of the population. By the early 1990s, we had nuclear-free status, a world-leading Department of Conservation, much environmental legislation, including the RMA Act and we had committed to reducing our carbon emissions under the Kyoto Protocol. So how, over the last quarter century, has New Zealand become an environmental laggard? Knight writes, ‘For the most part, New Zealand had left behind the era of bulldozers cutting through treasured scenery to build the latest public works collossus, instead entering an era characterised by intractable issues – issues no less damaging to the environment, but less readily identifiable and much more complex.’ For example, climate change, water pollution, eutrophication, pest proliferation and urbanisation of formerly productive lands. Knight cites example after example of poor environmental stewardship, well and truly debunking the 100% Pure fantasy. While gross pollution from industry and urban areas has steadily decreased, agricultural pollutants have significantly increased. Although less visible, these pollutants are more damaging over the long term, due to the lag effect. Knight wryly observes that the lag effect applies equally to how successive governments have put off many difficult issues as politically untenable.
She also concludes that many of our modern problems have resulted from the rather schizophrenic way we have divided the country into ‘preservation’ or ‘production’, with little overlap. This has meant that while a third of the country has been conserved as reserves and national parks, we’ve showed poor stewardship for the remainder – the places where we live, work and produce our food. It’s often been a case of getting the most milk, wool or minerals and damn the consequences. Regional Councils are often conflicted by, on the one hand, ensuring economic propserity, while on the other trying to regulate for good environmental outcomes. Knight calls for a far more integrated approach to how we manage our land, for more cooperation and clear environmental limits. In short, a cultural shift. And she suggests the best way forward might be the idea of planner Robert Hickson: ‘establishment of an agency or group of experts that assists government as a whole to think more comprehensively about the future.’ As early as 1981 the OECD recognised this was a major shortcoming of New Zealand governance.
One of the most shocking and insightful chapters covers Māori kaitiakitanga. The case study of the horribly polluted Ōroua River and the devastating effects on the local iwi made me ashamed to be a New Zealander. However, there are promising signs with the ground-breaking Te Awa Tupua status of the Whanganui River, which gives this sacred waterway the same legal rights as a person. Knight writes succinctly, clearly and convincingly. Few books pack as much punch in as little as 272 pages. Good photographs, endnotes, a bibliography and index complement the text. Beyond Manapōuri is an important, highly readable and hard-hitting book that deserves to be in the library of every New Zealander concerned about our environment.
This excellent book provides an overview of the state of the environment in 'green' New Zealand today and gives some background on explaining how we got to where we are today. As someone coming from the USA I found this book super informative.
Before coming to New Zealand I always believed the viewpoint that we get in the media and travel brochures that the country is a green utopia. Alas, after living here I learned that this is not true. This book does a great job explaining why that is and shows the two very different ways of looking at and managing land in the country - the conservation land, and private land. Conservation land is to be conserved and protected, but private land is simply not told what to do or how to manage the land.
This book gives a broad overview of environmental legislation, agencies and councils' responsibilities, moving towards a voice for iwi in land management, weaknesses in the current system, and areas that could be improved upon moving forward.