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A look at four key commitments from the VUWSA President. This is part two of a three-part series examining VUWSA, with this instalment focusing on presidential promises. In his 2025 interview with Salient ahead of the VUWSA presidential election, Aidan Donoghue campaigned on a platform of expanded services and increased student support, promising that higher upfront costs would deliver long-term benefits. Now in the second half of Trimester One, this piece examines the progress of several flagship commitments. Donoghue framed his campaign around “students coming together to lower the costs we all face,” alongside a broader pledge for VUWSA to “do more, much more,” funded through university support or the VUWSA Trust. Four specific initiatives formed the core of that platform. Their current status is outlined below. Dedicated E-Scooter Parking Donoghue proposed dedicated Flamingo e-scooter parking to ensure students “still have a way home” when buses stop running at night. In an interview with Salient, Donoghue initially described VUWSA as actively involved in the project. “We're working with Flamingo and the Property Services. At the moment, it's been worked out internally … it's just kind of trucking along, meeting after meeting, talking to other people,” he said. However, he later indicated that VUWSA is not leading the work, instead attributing responsibility to another group. “One of the groups already has [contacted the university], and we've jumped on to that … we've been monitoring them … watching how they're going and seeing if there's anything else we can provide,” he said, identifying the group as the Postgraduate Students’ Association (PGSA). When asked directly about VUWSA’s role, Donoghue said, “We’re more of watching what … is already happening.” This account is contradicted by PGSA President Andrew Tipton, who told Salient that the association is not working on e-scooter parking and had attempted to contact VUWSA without response. “We were asked by Flamingo to help them get in touch with VUWSA as it seems that their messages were not being responded to. We reached out to VUWSA but there was no reply,” Tipton said. Tipton added that the PGSA is “not actively pursuing e-scooter parking as a postgraduate issue.” Donoghue’s description of VUWSA’s involvement—ranging from “working with Flamingo and the Property Services” to “monitoring” another group’s efforts—is not reflected by PGSA’s account, which indicates no ongoing collaboration and no response from VUWSA. When Salient approached Te Herenga Waka for clarity as to who had contacted the university regarding e-scooter parking, a spokesperson said the only confirmed contact came from a VUWSA representative—specifically former President Liban Ali—who got in touch last year, a detail not mentioned by Donoghue. No timeline or evidence of active progress in 2026 on dedicated e-scooter parking has been made public. Clubs, Societies, and the Opportunity Shop Donoghue campaigned on “getting back Clubs and Societies,” alongside a plan to turn the games room into an opportunity shop that would create a new long-term revenue stream. The state of VUWSA taking over clubs was summarised last week, with clubs remaining firmly under university administration for now. However, questions remain about where the proposed opportunity shop fits within this broader plan. In an interview, Donoghue confirmed that the proposed opportunity shop is dependent on VUWSA regaining control of club space, as the shop is intended to be located in the Club House Games Room on Level 4 of the Student Union building. “If we want to get that space, we need to take over clubs,” he said. When asked whether the opportunity shop could proceed independently in a different location, Donoghue said this was unlikely under current conditions. “It’s more so I would consider it if there was another available space that we can use … at this current point of time, I'm unsure where that would be, other than pop ups,” he said. “We want a consistent space … something that is lockable, has storage space … there is very few spaces that VUWSA actually has themselves to do so. So that's why it is kind of tied.” When Salient approached Te Herenga Waka for clarification, a spokesperson said that VUWSA had not contacted the university or Property Services about potential spaces for an opportunity shop. Donoghue added that the clubs proposal was designed to combine multiple functions within a single space. “We're really trying to kill two birds with one stone with the proposal,” he said, noting that staff already employed by VUWSA could be used to support both club administration and the shop. However, he confirmed that no detailed planning for the opportunity shop has been completed, and that it remains contingent on first securing control of clubs. “Get clubs first,” he said. “We know the rough sort of idea … it’s more of a case of how much would we budget … which would follow, assuming, if we can get that space first.” The proposal, as outlined, places both the return of clubs and the establishment of an opportunity shop on the same unresolved condition: access to space currently managed by UniRec. Re-O Week Donoghue campaigned on delivering “a massive one-day festival/carnival in Tri 2 2026 aimed at returning students.” At the start of April, he said the proposal remained uncertain and would likely be scaled back significantly. “So Re-O Week is on the cards … if it is approved by the exec, it would be possible, however, not to the scale I might have promised,” he said. Donoghue cited financial concerns and wider trends in the events sector. “We've seen quite an over saturation in the market of festivals, and especially a lot of them going out of business. So whether or not that's a fiscally prudent choice is probably … leaning to more no.” However, many of those closures predate his campaign. By mid-September 2025—when Donoghue made the promise—festivals including WOMAD, Bay Dreams, Juicy Fest, Timeless Summer Tour, and Listen In had already cancelled editions, ceased operations, or signalled uncertainty. Earlier that year, Jim Beam Homegrown also announced it would be leaving Wellington. Donoghue is now citing those same industry conditions as a reason to scale back the proposal in 2026, despite committing to a large-scale event after they had already emerged. Instead of a large-scale festival, Donoghue said current discussions centre on a reduced programme delivered through an external promoter. “We're in conversations with him to see if he can do like a half O Week aimed at returning students,” he said. “Broad strokes, [it] would roughly be … two to three nights with a comedy and a regular sort of music night event plus day events.” Donoghue confirmed that no aspect of the proposal has been finalised. “Essentially, nothing's been confirmed. It all needs to be approved,” he said. He estimated a reduced budget of “roughly about $10,000” for a half-week programme, contingent on funding approval, adding that support from the VUWSA Trust “may or may not be able to [be] achieve[d].” This proposed $10,000 budget is contingent on funding from the VUWSA Trust. When asked whether she supported drawing from the trust, VUWSA Treasurer/Secretary Sanjukta Dey said her position would depend on several factors. “Drawing that amount from the trust isn’t something I automatically support or oppose,” she said. “My position would depend on a few considerations, whether this is an appropriate use of a finite and often long-term fund, what the expected return on that investment is in terms of student engagement and wellbeing (and if students appreciate the idea/cause), and importantly whether the exec comes to an agreement or disagreement as a whole (after I have explained the pros and cons of the decision).” When asked about timelines, Donoghue said feasibility was still being determined. “My goal would be to find out whether or not it's possible from the promoter within the month [of April],” he said. When Salient approached Te Herenga Waka for comment, a spokesperson said that VUWSA had not submitted any proposal or request to the university for a Re-O Week or similar returning-students event. Update: At an executive meeting on 29 April—one day before this piece went to print—a revised proposal for Re-O Week was presented. The proposal, brought forward by Aidan Donoghue, outlined a lower-cost, week-long programme of daytime acoustic performances, enrolment initiatives, and themed portfolio events, scheduled initially for Week 2 of Trimester 2. According to the proposal obtained by Salient, the programme would centre on daily acoustic sets from local bands held between 1–3 p.m. in The Hub, alongside enrolment drives tied to VUWSA’s “show up or shut up” campaign. Each day would be assigned to a different executive portfolio, with indicative plans including partnerships with university services, external organisations such as the Electoral Commission, and events such as a “Know Your Rights” workshop and a concluding pub quiz. At the meeting, Donoghue emphasised that this proposal was provisional and open to change depending on the preferences of the executive. The proposed timing was raised as a point of concern during the meeting, as it coincides with Pride. In response, Donoghue suggested shifting the event to “Week 4 or 5,” though no alternative date was confirmed. When Salient checked Te Herenga Waka’s staff intranet booking portal, The Hub had already been booked for other events in Week 2 and Week 4 of Trimester Two, with only the mezzanine floor still available. Week 5 is currently available to book, meaning the earliest Re-O Week could happen would be Week 5. The proposal estimates total costs at approximately $6000–$7000, primarily for performer fees and engagement expenses, with funding to be sought from the VUWSA Trust. It notes minimal financial risk on the basis that events would be free and not reliant on ticket revenue, while acknowledging potential reputational risk if attendance is low. In other words, that the $6000–$7000 is sunk cost. The proposal marks another shift from earlier characterisations of Re-O Week. In an email to Salient on April 14, when the plan was in “preliminary stages,” Donoghue described it as a “personal project.” The current proposal distributes delivery across executive portfolios, with each assigned responsibility for a day’s programming, raising some ambiguity as to whether the initiative remains a personal project or has evolved into a broader executive-led programme. When asked who would manage the administrative workload, Donoghue said he would “take the lead on this myself for the overall administration, while also supporting each of the teams to run their day.” During the same discussion, Equity Officer Pyper Adams said Re-O Week had been a key feature of Donoghue’s presidential campaign, adding that “we have seen significant evidence that it is already something that students want.” However, campaign materials characterised the event as a large, single-day festival, contrasting with the multi-day format now proposed. The executive approved the revised proposal in a 10–2 vote, with Aspen Jackman (Welfare Vice President) and Sanjukta Day (Treasurer/Secretary) voting against the motion, and agreed to approach the VUWSA Trust for funding of up to $7000. Lowering Costs for Students Donoghue’s campaign was anchored in what he described as the “mantra of my campaign,” stating: “students coming together to lower the costs we all face.” When asked to provide examples of how he had directly lowered costs for students, Donoghue initially pointed to the continuation and expansion of existing services. “So by providing our services and ensuring that there is budget … being the key thing for me,” he said, referencing the VUWSA community pantry, period products, and bus passes. He highlighted the increase in available bus passes—stating students could go from 10 to 20—as a cost-saving measure, saying this would allow students to “hopefully [save] themselves some transport costs.” However, he later acknowledged that this change had occurred during 2025 VUWSA President Liban Ali’s term. “That was towards the end of Liban,” he said. Similarly, he acknowledged that other initiatives he referenced—such as discounted rubbish bags for students—predated his presidency. When pressed again on whether he had personally implemented any measures that directly reduced costs for students, Donoghue said: “There's nothing I can say no at the moment, no, I'll be honest.” He attributed this to the scale and complexity of his proposals. “Everything I've done, there's been massive projects that require so much pre-work … they will not be done by halfway through Tri One,” he said. Despite acknowledging that no direct cost reductions have been achieved, Donoghue continued to frame the continuation of existing services as fulfilling his campaign goal. “It is the continuation of these services following that,” he said. He further argued that lowering costs operates through a collective model, even where total expenditure increases. “Everything, no matter what we provide … if we want to do more of something, it will cost more,” he said. “The idea is that all students, collectively, are paying a fraction so that individual students might get something that might face a genuine lower cost.” When asked whether any current campaigns would directly reduce costs for students, Donoghue pointed to the proposed opportunity shop—an initiative he had earlier confirmed is dependent on regaining control of club spaces. The exchange reflects a shift from an initial campaign promise to “lower the costs we all face” to an acknowledgement that no direct reductions have yet been delivered, with that promise instead framed as the continuation of existing services and longer-term, costly proposals. 24/7 Hot Drinks Stations Donoghue campaigned on introducing “hot drinks stations on campus 24/7 for when the cafes are closed at night or on the weekends.” He said the proposal has been costed but is no longer being actively pursued. “It would be roughly 10s of 1000s of dollars, and whether or not students would accept that, versus something else we'd have to give up … [is] a game of trade offs,” he said. When pressed on a more specific figure, Donoghue revised this estimate. “Specifically, I believe it would have been roughly about $16,000 … but I'm not super confident,” he said. He added that the initiative is not currently financially viable and has been deprioritised. “It’s really not as financially viable as we might have liked … there’s a lot of infrastructure that needs to be built up first,” he said. “It is on the back burner … it is on freeze.” Donoghue said the proposal depends on VUWSA first establishing a stronger physical presence across campuses, including staffing and space at Pipitea and Te Aro. “We need to ensure that we have a presence on campus … [and] the funding for a staff member,” he said. When Salient asked Te Herenga Waka whether VUWSA had contacted the university or Property Services about introducing 24/7 hot drinks stations at Pipitea, Te Aro, or Kelburn, a spokesperson said no. In an interview, Donoghue also indicated that VUWSA may not deliver the service at all. “In my view, it doesn't matter if VUWSA is doing it or not, as long as the service has been provided,” he said. Donoghue repeatedly returned to this issue of expanding VUWSA’s presence across multiple campuses throughout the interview, positioning it as a prerequisite for this proposal. Multiple VUWSA Receptions Across Campuses While not part of Donoghue’s original platform, the proposal to expand VUWSA reception services to other campuses became a recurring focus during the interview. This shift occurred as Donoghue repeatedly moved discussion away from the stalled hot drinks initiative, instead returning to the idea of expanding VUWSA’s physical presence across campuses. The proposal would establish VUWSA reception services at Pipitea and Te Aro campuses, operating for limited weekly hours. Donoghue described the model as a trial, with “four hours” at each campus, calling the figure “arbitrary” and “the lowest cost I could justify it being still having some effect.” He framed the initiative as a way to improve access to existing services, particularly for students based away from Kelburn. “VUWSA is intended to represent the views of all 20,000 of our students … we just want to provide those services as easy as possible,” he said. While Donoghue provided limited figures during the interview, Salient obtained a copy of the “VUWSA Pipitea and Te Aro Reception Proposal” dated 2 March 2026 and addressed to Members of ACSSF (the Advisory Committee on the Student Services Fee). The document outlines a 12-month trial beginning in Trimester One, with reception desks operating one day per week at each campus during peak hours (10am–2pm), supported by additional time for setup and administration. According to the proposal, the service would provide: access to intercampus (Snapper) bus passes, subsidised Wellington City Council rubbish bags, and general information and referral services. The total projected cost is approximately $32,000 for the first year, including staffing, infrastructure, and inventory. This includes around $25,820 for reception operations and $7016 for expanded rubbish bag provision. Donoghue indicated that funding would be drawn from the existing student services fee, arguing that not all allocated funds are currently being spent. “At the current moment … not all of the money is being spent out of that current pie,” he said. He also confirmed that the VUWSA Trust could be used if necessary, stating this was “not off the table.” VUWSA Treasurer/Secretary Sanjukta Dey urged caution around the use of the Trust for proposals of this scale, including both the reception expansion and the 24/7 hot drinks station. “I would encourage the exec to approach these proposals cautiously and prioritise funding through ACSSF, or operational budgets before considering the trust. If the trust were to be used, it would need strong evidence of student demand, clear impact, and assurance that the spending aligns with the trust’s long-term purpose. Ultimately, we want to ensure we’re funding high-impact needs.” Despite the scale of the proposal and its reliance on student funding, Donoghue confirmed that no formal consultation with students has been undertaken. “I can only talk through anecdotally during my campaign … we haven't done some further consultation,” he said. While Donoghue indicated limited engagement with students on the proposal, he pointed to discussions with the university staff, stating: “We have taken a proposal to the director of Kirsty,” referring to senior university staff member Kirsty McClure. Te Herenga Waka confirmed to Salient that the proposal had been submitted to the Director of Te Pūrengi and acting Director of Tītoko, and is currently awaiting a follow-up meeting with Donoghue after consultation with the VUWSA Executive and Student Assembly. It has not yet been discussed by ACSSF. The VUWSA Pipitea and Te Aro Reception Proposal states explicitly that “this proposal has been endorsed by Robyn Phipps the Dean of FADI and Jane Bryson the Dean of WSBG.” However, when Salient approached Te Herenga Waka for clarification, a spokesperson said that while both Deans had “brief conversations” with VUWSA representatives and were supportive of the general idea of increased presence on these campuses, they had not been asked to provide formal endorsement for the proposal. While Donoghue suggested that funding could be drawn from unspent student services levy funds, the university confirmed that a current surplus does exist due to recent changes in cost allocation. However, it emphasised that any expenditure is subject to student consultation processes, which are scheduled to take place at the beginning of Trimester Two for initiatives in the following year. The university further stated that no discussion has taken place at ACSSF regarding allocating approximately $32,000 to the proposal, and no decisions have been made. It also noted that alternative approaches—such as expanding existing student services receptions—may be considered, and that further planning is required to determine whether this proposal represents the best use of student services funding. Conclusion Now midway through Trimester One, none of Donoghue’s four core campaign commitments have been delivered. Instead, they fall into three categories: scaled back, stalled, or unclear. Re-O Week, one of the most prominent campaign proposals, has undergone multiple revisions. Initially framed as a large-scale, single-day festival, it is now approved in principle as a lower-cost, week-long programme of daytime events, with funding of up to $7000 to be sought from the VUWSA Trust. However, key details—including its final timing—remain unresolved following concerns raised at the executive level. Other initiatives have seen less progress. The proposed 24/7 hot drinks stations have been placed “on freeze” due to cost considerations. Both the opportunity shop and dedicated e-scooter parking remain stalled, with progress contingent on external approvals or unclear next steps. In several cases, it is also uncertain how far proposals have advanced beyond internal discussion. The university has stated it has not been formally approached regarding the opportunity shop, Re-O Week, or hot drinks stations, raising questions about the extent of engagement to date. The only initiative showing more concrete development is a proposal to expand VUWSA reception services across multiple campuses. This initiative, however, was not part of Donoghue’s original campaign platform. While it has been described as having institutional support, the university clarified that staff referenced had expressed general support for increased student presence, rather than formal endorsement of the proposal itself. Donoghue has characterised many of these initiatives as long-term projects. While there is still time within the term for further progress, the current status of his key commitments indicates a gap between initial campaign framing and implementation to date.

Kaleb Evans-Lao Editors Note: While this article reflects the author’s views, it does not adequately represent the Law School’s work in teaching and developing tikanga Māori. For a more accurate and in-depth look at this work, please see the news page. The Socratic method is a form of teaching that fascinated me long before I ever went to university. I pictured a lecture theatre full of lively debate over ethics, with each mind pouring its intellectual capacity and opinions to create a truly thoughtful experience. This delusion is what led me to want to go to study law at Victoria, because (to my knowledge at the time) it was the only school in Aotearoa that taught law in a Socratic manner. So, as law students before me have argued for the virtues of Socratic teaching, let me provide the rebuttal based on my current experiences with 100 and 200 level law courses. To begin, let’s explain what is meant by “Socratic teaching”. It takes many forms, as I will explain shortly, but in the university context it is a method of teaching that primarily uses questions to go through course content. A lecturer calls upon someone to answer, and an answer is given. The difference between Socratic teaching and usual lecture questioning is that questions are the primary activity and often have little to no accompanying slides. Paul Scott was my first true introduction to Socratic teaching. He delegates questions to someone at random, and they have to answer in some capacity. He makes it clear (at least in his 100 and 200 level courses) that he is fine with “I don’t know” and takes care not to belittle answers, though he might make the occasional quip. Despite this, it's often a task of herding cats when it comes to getting an answer out of people. Sometimes we get a long chain of “I don't know” before finally arriving at something useful. If you have done your readings and thus know the answer, you're left stewing in your own twitchy rage as someone clearly behind gives a flowery answer without substance to cover their lack of effort. All of this leads to lengthy lectures that drag on just to get to a simple, near-binary answer. A benefit to Paul's system is that, because you can be picked at random, it strongly encourages you to do your readings and know your stuff, lest you look like a fool in front of the lecture theatre. It certainly worked for me; my contract notes during that course taught me are probably the best I’ve produced. Whether this is an intended or effective motivator for the rest of the cohort is debatable. I’ve met people who regard Paul with infamy—they talk of him more like a bad period in their life than a learning experience. Paul himself seems aware of this; he occasionally mentions the feedback he receives, none of which is particularly kind. Poor fellow. LAWS213 (Public Law) has an interesting system. The Socratic method is delegated to a group of different students each week, and they are expected to answer during that time. While this lets everyone have a go, it loses the pressure to keep up with readings—if it isn't your week, you hardly need to care (beyond your own success in the course). It also doesn't solve the problem of how long it takes to extract answers. I can't imagine this is particularly enjoyable for the lecturers either—probing for a simple answer only to get blank stares from a packed lecture theater. So what is keeping people quiet, and should we continue to use the Socratic method? Ultimately, I'm not going to transcribe a student's answer unless I know it's correct—usually when the lecturer confirms it—so I still just end up writing what the lecturer says at the end of the day. Not unlike a standard, Powerpoint-assisted lecture. These uses of the Socratic method are very different from what was recorded in Plato’s dialogues. Notably, they are far more restrained. In Euthyphro, Socraties engages a single person, challenging their beliefs about piety—one party questioning, the other justifying. In contrast, most Socratic law questions boil down to “what do the readings say?” This is not to say law courses are devoid of thought-provoking questions, but they aren’t common—even among lecturers who teach Socratically. Perhaps it is the nature of students. I am no paragon of principle—I get a healthy mix of B’s and C’s (LAWS-wise), I show up to most lectures, and I certainly haven't always done the readings beforehand. But there are plenty of A students—enough, at a glance, to populate most lecture streams. Surely these people would come in as our saviours, and answer every question perfectly? Unfortunately not—and arguably that isn’t the point. I remember being told by my LAWS123 lecturer to stop answering questions so others could have a go. That's fair, but without me, on this particular day, the answers took much longer to surface. It was like I was the only one who had done the reading that week. Or maybe it was just first-year social anxiety. Regardless, it's clear lecturers want everyone to participate, but it’s equally clear that most students don’t want to. This creates a problem: either the same few students always speak on behalf of the group, or you get softly spoken, tentative answers that circle the question without landing. The lecturer then either teases the answer out themselves or moves on. This charade takes up valuable lecture time for something that ultimately isn't that enlightening. Perhaps there are simply too many law students for the Socratic method to work effectively. In Plato's dialogues, Socrates speaks with one or a few people—nothing like the large lecture theatres of 100 and 200 level Law. Another difference is that these courses are mandatory, meaning lectures are fighting an uphill battle to engage students, some of whom might not even like the subject. That would certainly explain why questions rarely go beyond “where in the readings does it support your answer?”. Perhaps it is the nature of the subject itself. Law is sometimes rather empirical: this happened in X case, thus on these facts Y would occur. Socrates grappled with questions of philosophy—questions that invite bias and opinion more readily than case outcomes. While we are sometimes encouraged to agree or disagree with rulings, this is usually grounded in other empirical observations, such as dissenting judgments. There may be no single right answer in law, but acceptable answers require knowledge of cases and principles. That constraint limits how far ideas can stretch in discussion. And, unlike in Plato's dialogues, disagreement isn't really the point. Perhaps it is the university environment. As much as lecturers try, lectures are not truly safe spaces for discussion. It is nerve-wracking for many people (myself included) to speak—and, moreover, attempt to have a correct assertion—in front of strangers. Your answer may be discussed outside of class. You might struggle with articulation due to disability, proficiency, or fluency. You might simply not perform well under pressure. The Socratic method takes little account of these factors. Assurances like “you won’t be judged” rarely eliminate that anxiety. A more recent concern is how Socratic teaching interacts with the introduction of tikanga Māori into law courses. To be clear, to my knowledge, tikanga is not taught in depth in 100 and 200 law courses; it is usually discussed in relation to its interaction with English imperial law—or comparing the two systems based on historical records of interaction. But I worry that assessing students on tikanga when institutional understanding of it is incomplete risks creating a situation where there is no clear authority to correct misunderstandings. For example, a student might say: “English common law is more individualist, while tikanga Māori is more collectivist.” Are they right? Perhaps—but who determines that? Certainly not lecturers who do not claim expertise in tikanga. Assertions like this could gradually reshape understanding in unintended ways. These issues must be handled carefully. To conclude, I would be curious to know what a pūkenga would think about the Socratic method being used to teach tikanga Māori. So, what is the point of a lecture? If it is to learn, then non-Socratic teaching seems more effective: it is faster, covers more content, and is less dependent on student participation, meaning both advanced and struggling students can still benefit. But if the point of a lecture is to test knowledge, then the appeal of the Socratic method becomes clearer. Like a piano performance, it does little to improve the skill in the moment but is required to affirm to others that the pianist has skill at all. A Socratic class is less about teaching students and more about making sure the students know what they need to. By requiring students to generate answers themselves, the onus of knowledge shifts onto them rather than the lecturer. In that sense, you are effectively required to perform what you know as part of the lecture, rather than learn independently with the lecturer acting as a supplementary guide. So if this is the point of a Socratic lecture, is it useful? I would argue not really. Once again, there is the issue of the sheer number of students being “tested” under this method. Even with the Public Law system, you are only accessed Socratically a handful of times, after which you can avoid further participation. There has been a broader shift in legal education toward more frequent assessments, intended to ensure students stay on top of their workload, and Socratic teaching falls in line with this. However, what we know about frequent assessment is that it requires significant manpower to be effective. Much like Socratic teaching, it runs into the same problems: if you are already studious, it often amounts to little more than busywork. The usual justification is that it provides opportunities for feedback—particularly on writing—but if your writing is already competent, tutors often lack the time to offer anything substantial and will (rightfully) prioritise those who need more help. Conversely, if you are behind, these assessments place considerable pressure on you to catch up within a shorter timeframe. This effect mirrors the Socratic method itself—banal for those who are on track, and stressful for those who are not. To conclude, the Socratic method as used in modern legal education differs significantly from how Socrates himself employed it. It is a far more diluted version, shaped by the realities of en masse education. It is slower than conventional lecturering, and even if you are capable of answering the questions posed, whether you want to—and whether doing so meaningfully advances your learning— are both dubious prospects. Finally, I note that I didn’t write this to be definitively correct, but to stir discussion. I could hardly call myself a law student if I aired these concerns and expected them to go unchallenged. Please do contest my points—nothing would make me happier than to be proven wrong, right, or somewhere in between. I’d also note that many of my concerns are likely addressed in 300–400 level courses. However, since many law students primarily take 100–200 level courses, those remain important to critique.

Good news stories (and more) for the planet Kia ora, Salient reader! Welcome to our fortnightly column on the environment, sustainable living, and the small, stubborn act of hope amongst a world on fire! Check in every second week for waste-free recipes, genuinely good news, and practical ways to lend a hand—nudging a happier, healthier earth a little closer into view. Waste-free recipe of the week: Very Basic and Very Blissful Balls ~ the perfect sneaky snack for studying 2 cups pitted dates (or whatever other dried fruit is hiding in your pantry) 1 cup of almonds (peanuts also work and are less expenny) ½ cup pumpkin seeds 2 tbsp cocoa powder 1 cup shredded coconut 2 tbsp oil 1 tsp vanilla essence Soak the dates in water for a few minutes and then drain. Place all the ingredients together, and blitz until well combined. Form into small, teaspoon sized balls. You can roll them in shredded coconut too if you want to make them look pretty. Keep in an airtight container in the fridge. Enjoy! Kelburn campus’ (not so) secret green spaces What wonderful campus we get to study on! It is so cool that we are on a forest-y hill rather than a concrete garden. Whenever the stressor of uni is looming large, take a breath or 3 and seek out some of the wonderful green spaces we have no matter rain or shine. The GraveyardI know, I know some people may say that graveyards are creepy, but I have it on the best authority that it is a lovely escape from the concrete of uni. There are nearly always wild flowers blooming and, so long as you are respectful, the graves wont hurt ya. The Hunter LawnMy goodness, on a perfect sunny day in Wellington the hunter lawn is the place to be. Take your readings on an expedition to the rolling grass hill, have lunch with some friends, and frolic if you dare. I can also say that braving the weather any day is quite rewarding. Kiwifoot reserveIt's just a little walk up Kelburn Parade, with a 500m walking track maintained by the wonderful Kelburn Conservation Network. Take a brisk walk and soak in the tall majestic pines. Hear birds chirping and feel like you are far, far away from all study responsibilities. Dont worry though, unis just ½ a km away if need be. Better Browsing? It's no secret that tech oligarchies are running rampant over our precious planet, leaving a trail of pollution and highly questionable ethics. However, as students (and citizens of a 21st century world), we find ourselves forced to depend on the internet and its associates for almost every aspect of our life. There is no perfect web browser, but perhaps there are some who stand above the pack—for our planet and our conscience. When browsing the internet this week for study, perhaps you could try saying farewell to Google and hello to Ecosia. Ecosia is a browser created originally in 2009 which has gained traction in recent years. Committed to being non-for-profit and donating 80% of all revenue to planting trees, they have flipped the tech-giant’s model on its head. The user interface is nearly identical to the all-familiar Google, however that pesky AI overview is gone and we welcome instead a little tally of trees planted from your direct revenue. Access to the internet is a powerful privilege, so why not plant a couple of trees at the same time? Creative corner:

Hosting a good party in Wellington has become synonymous with a visit from noise control, and a noise direction notice pressed into the hands of the residence's most sober soldier. Particularly tasteful flats might hang these trophies on the wall as certificates of merit, the controversial décor perhaps even autographed by an aspirational DJ or two. The enforcement officers usually move in pairs for increased authority, often materialising in your living room or marching into your backyard as uninvited guests (sorry, but we said message for plus ones). While some students I interviewed described these interactions as “pretty chill,” others told me that officers had behaved “pushy,” “incredibly rude,” and been “getting really shitty” when responding to noise complaints. Alarmingly, a poll by Salient revealed that 89% of readers felt unconfident in their knowledge about what noise control officers are and aren’t allowed to do. Are they allowed to enter your home? Seize your property? Move you out of the way? Do they have to provide you with a decibel reading? Issue you a warning? The answers might surprise you. Noise enforcement officers are contracted by the council to investigate excessive noise complaints and are currently provided by Allied Security. The Resource Management Act of 1991 defines excessive noise as “noise that is under human control and of such a nature as to unreasonably interfere with the peace, comfort, and convenience of any person.” The Act goes on to state that if an officer has received a complaint and upon investigation “is of the opinion that the noise is excessive,” may direct the occupier or person responsible for the excessive noise to “immediately reduce the noise to a reasonable level.” The key words here are opinion and reasonable. Noise officers are not required to take decibel readings that prove your party noise is excessive and haven’t done so since 2012. Legally, what is ‘reasonable’ refers to what a hypothetical prudent person under similar circumstances might see as appropriate, meaning that the assessment of excessive noise relies on the subjective judgement of the officers. Receiving a noise direction notice based on opinion alone can be frustrating, but there are ways to appeal if you believe it was unfairly issued. This notice will usually prohibit the receiver, and every other person bound by the direction, from causing or contributing to excessive noise from the same location for 72 hours—but this can be extended for up to eight days as the enforcement officer sees fit. If you do not comply with the issued direction immediately and decrease the excessive noise to a satisfactory level, noise officers (accompanied by a police constable) may enter your home without further notice to seize, remove parts from, lock, or seal any instrument, appliance, or machine that is producing or contributing to the excessive noise. Noise enforcement officers can come onto your property, but they can’t enter your home or seize equipment without a police constable present. This generally affords you a bit of time, as noise officers don’t usually show up to house parties with police immediately present. They usually have to be called, and depending on how busy their night is, might take a while to make an appearance. In the case of several students that I spoke with, noise control threatened to call police, but they never actually arrived. This doesn’t mean you should proceed without caution. Wellington Council has the power to issue an infringement fine of up to $1000 if you don’t curb the noise (though in 2025, none were issued). Furthermore, reclaiming seized equipment will cost you a guaranteed $100 administration fee, and in repetitive cases the return of your equipment is not guaranteed. If police are called, they are permitted to “use such force as is reasonable in the circumstances,” so take this into account if a situation is escalating. Noise control officers are not permitted to touch you or use force. I spoke with a student from Newtown, who had an unpleasant experience with noise control at a flat-warming party. She turned the music off for them immediately, but they told her that they “need(ed) to come inside to make sure.” After she denied them entry because there were no police present, and the music was off, they argued back for several minutes before finally leaving. Because she knew her rights, she was able to stand her ground—not that she should have to. If you have an interaction with noise control officers that doesn’t feel right, you can make an official complaint online to the Wellington City Council (https://forms.wellington.govt.nz/s3/official-complaint-form), or phone 04 499 4444. To dispute a noise direction notice, you can email NoiseTeam@wcc.govt.nz with details of why you believe the notice was unfairly issued, and any supporting evidence. Additionally, if you believe the Police have done something wrong, like using unreasonable force, you can phone or write the Independent Police Conduct Authority (PO Box 25221, Wellington 6146, Ph 0800 503 728), or go to any police station and tell them you would like to make a complaint against the police.

The first action of Mayor Andrew Little was to put a pause on the Golden Mile, given the project’s $80 million cost blowout. Six months on, whether the progressive policy will ever materialize is anyone’s guess. The Golden Mile is a proposed refurbishment of the corridor connecting Courtney Place and Lambton Quay. Despite initially being proposed in 2016, it has spent pretty much all that time in development hell, with constant delays preventing anything from happening. The project seeks to refresh the corridor with new greenery, improved lighting, cycle lanes, anti-slip tiles, and widened footpaths. This would come at the expense of cars, which would not be allowed in the area for most of the day. Ergo, in 2024, an estimated 90% of Courtney Place businesses signed a petition against the project. Development on Courtney Place was slated to begin last year, but an $80 million cost blowout was discovered before shovels hit the ground. So, in his first council meeting as mayor, Little halted the project while the costs were reviewed. “Even though the project has central government funding, any cost increase falls on the council,” explains Little. “The question is whether we can vary the Golden Mile in a way which keeps the ticket price within what we had planned, but still achieves something of value to Wellington.” Asked how much extra cost Wellington City Council can absorb, Little responds with “none, really.” “We've had some big cost blowouts on other big projects like Town Hall and the sludge minimisation plant. We have huge pressure on existing capital projects before we even embark on new ones. So we're just not in a position to absorb a lot of additional cost. Some suspect that as the Golden Mile was largely a project of the last Labour government, Little pausing for a review is a way to soften its eventual cancellation, though this suspicion is not universal. Pausing work on the Golden Mile passed unanimously by council in November. However, all four Green councilors were against the review. Laurie Foon—a Green councillor who was Tory Whanau’s deputy mayor—said her preferred option would be to put the contract for the Golden Mile out to tender. In other words, see if another company could do it for cheaper. Foon said council had only worked with one contractor, and putting it to market may have allowed council to find a cheaper competitor, especially as what exactly has caused the cost blowouts is unclear. Foon’s preferred option was not one presented to councillors. Right-leaning councillor Karl Tiefenbacher took the opposite approach, saying he was looking forward to the whole project being scrapped. “I can't see how it can be rejigged or anything. We don't have the money to do anything really, and I don't think it was a good design anyway,” said Tiefenbacher. “I’m quite positive for the area, but I’m quite positive because I believe the Golden Mile will fall over.” For what is the umpteenth time since 2016, the axe looms large over the Golden Mile, with the final review due back to Council next month.

A feed for fuck-all FJ Noodles and Dumplings What: Northern Chinese and buffet-style Price: $15.50 When: pretty much always (10:00am—1:00am on Sunday–Thursday, & till 5:00am on Friday & Saturday) It’s definitely got heft, but hard to enjoy. ⭐⭐ As another Red Rain Warning rolled over the city and I finished packing another load of nonsense into a cardboard box, it was clear that tonight was going to call for a bowl of easy and plenty. Enter stage left, FJ Noodles and Dumplings. A dip into Reddit and Google Reviews suggests that this is a place most frequented in the early hours of the morning, after a long pilgrimage through a series of licensed establishments (I’d only ever passed by FJ before today, which shows how much I get out). FJ Noodles’ buffet menu is their obvious claim to fame—number one rated on their Uber Eats menu, with twice as many reviews as anything else, and a perfect deal for me to check out. They offer three different-sized containers: a small or medium rectangular container for $13.50 or $15.50, or a deep bowl for $17.50. These will get you a base of either egg fried rice or noodles, with the option of one, two, or three toppings, respectively. It’s a bit of a game—Papa’s Chinese Takeaway—as the lady behind the counter carries your container across and ladles on the toppings that you pick out, but it’s much harder to put together a harmonious bowl of food. Ordering for myself and my partner, I ended up getting one bowl of Vegetable [&] Tofu, Egg Foo Young, and Sweet Sour Pork on rice, and a medium container of Curry Chicken and Spicy Pork on noodles. Worse results could have been possible from my panicked pointing at the cabinet, but anything with a sauce like the Curry Chicken should really go over rice to be soaked up, and the sweet-sour pork would have melded better with the Spicy Pork than the sweet-sour-egg-and-tofu amalgam that I ended up with. Props to the woman serving for not skimping; you walk away with a plastic brick of sustenance that all blends into one discordant takeaway symphony; an oil slick of flavours on rice. Of course, a buffet comes with inevitable food safety suspicions, which the average person’s immune system will chew up and spit out—but if you’re immunocompromised or someone who should be wary of allergen cross-contamination, you’d be forgiven for giving this a miss. I’m loath to dwell too long on the subject of food hygiene just because it’s front-of-house here and not a knife used for chicken and beef in a kitchen out back, but I bring it up because it is tied to my first impressions of the food. The Spicy Pork, for start, was tough and dried-out from the hot lamps. Kind of fun to eat, I must admit—like a jerky with a dusty fried batter, but tired and bland. On the other hand, the chicken in the curry sauce had been slow-cooking for hours and was very tender. Off-puttingly so. Some pieces were skin-on and slippery, halfway to a gelatin state, which, on undercooked noodles, was not appealing. The gravy itself did this dish no favours either, missing any tomato-acidity or spice. The vegetarian options were by far my favourites. The Vegetable and tofu was a lot of broccoli, but this had held its crunch instead of going limp, and the florets had soaked up lots of soy and oil. The Foo Young and the fried rice ended up blended into a great savoury mix, with plenty of shrimp paste, sweet cubes of pea and carrot, and chunks of fluffy omelette. Quite an oily fried rice, but very scoffable. This is a meal I would recommend only on the basis of value, and even then with hesitancy. The medium container is a good meal for $15.50, while the bowl for $17.50 will leave you full. Definitely undercutting any other meal of that mass in town, but pick wisely. However, I don’t think this review is an indictment on FJ as a whole. It might just be that the buffet by the door is what keeps the place in business, while a whole other calibre of cooking happens in the back kitchen. Nick Iles of the Spinoff published a profusely apologetic ode to FJ Noodles after sitting down and trying their hand-pulled lāmiàn noodles. Made to order and served with bright and dynamic sauces, they sound like works of art. Pushing $20 or more, they are a touch outside of Munch’s budget, but I’m looking forward to walking past the buffet cabinet to try them—off-the-clock—sometime. Am I talking shit? Do you wildly disagree, or want to feed my ego by telling me I’m so right? Or have I overlooked a place so far that readers really need to know about? Send me something to chew on at: guy@salient.org.nz.

Finleigh Frost The Government’s decision to lift the cap on course fee increases from 2.85% to a hefty 6% has left many students stunned. At a time when young people face high unemployment, a shrinking pool of part-time jobs, and bleak post-graduation prospects, doubling the allowable fee hike feels not just out of touch but fundamentally unfair. Yet beyond the immediate financial hit, there’s a deeper structural problem that feels increasingly difficult to ignore for those attending university. Universities are becoming top-heavy bureaucracies where non-academic roles outnumber teaching staff. For many students, these issues aren’t simply abstract. They are the deciding factor in whether to skip a meal, pick up another shift that doesn’t exist, or take on more debt just to stay enrolled. While a 6% increase might look small on paper, for someone who is already stretched, it is the difference between coping and falling behind. In some New Zealand universities, up to 60% of staff are in non-academic positions. That means the majority of employees aren’t teaching, researching, supervising, or directly supporting student learning. Instead, they’re working in management, marketing, HR, strategy, communications, compliance, and an ever-expanding constellation of administrative functions. Compared with 2009, when non-academic staff made up less than 30%, the shift is dramatic. While some level of administration is necessary, the scale of growth in these roles raises serious questions about priorities. Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: students are being asked to pay 6% more for institutions that appear to be investing less in teaching and more in internal bureaucracy. And bureaucracies don’t simply shrink on their own. Once these roles are created, they tend to become permanent, often justifying themselves or even leading to the creation of new ones. A change in strategy requires new managers; new reporting requires new staff; and suddenly, the system has grown, regardless of whether teaching output improves. Meanwhile, the people students actually interact with—lecturers, tutors, and supervisors—are stretched thinner each year in favour of these bureaucratic roles. As universities balloon administratively, their core functions—lecturing, tutoring, research, and academic mentoring—are being squeezed. Departments are downsizing or closing. Class sizes are growing. Students often struggle to access specialist lecturers, and more teaching is shifted to casual or fixed-term staff who are stretched to breaking point. The quality of learning appears to be declining—not because academics have lost their passion, but because the system around them does not support them. This bureaucratic expansion coincides with a job market that is already hostile to students. Unemployment among young people remains high at around 15%, and even basic part-time work is hard to secure. Even the old fallback options are disappearing. Retail and hospitality jobs that once sustained students are now more competitive, casualised, or gone altogether. Students are increasingly competing with more experienced workers for hospitality and retail roles that once reliably supported their studies. Students aren’t just working less; many are finding it significantly harder to access work at all. The expectation that students can simply “pick up a job” to offset rising costs feels increasingly detached from reality. Many struggle to find enough work to cover groceries, let alone tuition. After graduation, the picture is often just as difficult. Entry-level roles are scarce, employers demand years of experience for “junior” positions, and industries across the board are tightening their hiring. Students are being asked to take on more debt for a degree that increasingly doesn’t guarantee a job, or even a fair shot at one. It also raises the broader question of whom the system serves and who is meant to benefit. If students are paying more for less, academics are being stretched thinner, and outcomes are declining, then the benefits of this expansion are not immediately obvious to those at the centre of the university experience. Students are not seeing an improved experience or a higher standard of education, just higher costs. Given all of this, it’s fair to ask: where is the money actually going? If universities are cutting academics, reducing course offerings, and scaling back student services, why does the non-teaching workforce keep growing? Why are managerial layers expanding while front-line educators disappear? Allowing universities to raise fees by 6% only papers over the cracks. It doesn’t solve the structural inefficiencies draining the sector from within. Students don’t see value for money. They’re seeing declining teaching quality, fewer opportunities, and institutions investing more in offices than in classrooms. The Government’s fee decision sends a clear message: students must pay more to keep an increasingly bloated system functioning. But if over half the staff aren’t teaching, and students are graduating into a stagnant job market, then the problem isn’t funding. It’s priorities. New Zealand’s young people deserve a tertiary system built around education, not administration. Until that changes, higher fees will only deepen the crisis—not fix it.

Record Roundup Honey Dijon: The Nightlife Honey Dijon is an extraordinary and extraordinarily respected DJ known for her Chicago-style deep house music; largely the domain of black queer innovators in the early 80s, Dijon continues in the tradition of the likes of Frankie Knuckles and Marshall Jefferson. Her gifts are best exemplified in her tour-de-force Boiler Room set at Sugar Mountain in 2018, a set which has something of a cult following in itself. In a recent interview, Dijon revealed that she was flustered, running late thanks to a promoter mismanaging a car booking, and really needed to pee during that set—she wasn’t particularly proud of some of the mixing as a result. And yet, what unfolds is absorbingly authoritative, as Dijon takes the unexpecting daytime Aussie crowd on a romp through house music history, including even a sample of MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech, just in case you ket-addled rave kids forgot where these beats came from. Her gifts, albeit that of a different kind, are also exemplified on her new record, The Nightlife. Here, it’s Dijon-as-producer, coordinating a number of collaborators and session musicians. “Just Friends” cools things off; “Satisfied” demands better, as much for an interpersonal relationship as for black pride in general; “Welcome to the Moon” images the dancefloor as extraterrestrial, a place where you move different than everywhere and everyone else (read: the straight world); “Okay Daddy” goes silly and bratty (and doesn’t its bassline have something of Mr Fingers’ classic track “Mystery of Love” about it?)—but the “story” this album tells is not one of linear narrative cohesion, it’s one of sheer formal efficiency. With most clocking in under four minutes, these tight and well-managed tracks don’t hypnotise in their length and sustain, as Dijon does in her DJ sets. Rather, they’re poised to arm DJs of her ilk with fresh and lively new material out of which to cut mixes of their own. We can only hope, Wellington, that people take up her challenge. I, for one, largely raised on this sound, am a little sick of the high-tempo techno reign in this city. Let’s party Chicago style, baby. Or, as guest vocalist Mahalia has it on one seriously flirty track: “Don’t rush me / Take your time, we’re not in love” (“Rush Me”). Jessie Ware: Superbloom Aw, Jessie Ware! Gardens and sexuality have been weirdly linked for as long as, like, the Book of Genesis, I guess? Or at least since it’s Troye Sivan’s 2018 bottoming anthem “Bloom.” Ware’s engagement with this trope on Superbloom is to turn it into pure bodily agitation, a command or excuse to dance. For me, “Sauna” is the zany highlight, highly sexed and furnished with a nonsense hook: “If you wanna last longer / I don’t need faster, I need stronger / Take it to the sauna.” You get the sense that she led herself there with the rhyme, which has its own logic or way of making things seem logical; and there’s that really lovely synth work, trembling and semiquavering all over the track, grounded by a digital piano whose chord progression endlessly encircles completion. By comparison, I find and have always found Ware’s ballads pretty weak in their posture—and here, “16 Summers” is no exception. But “Ride”, the lead single... it’s just signature Ware. It’s campy, vampy, disco-y, and—what’s that?—it’s got an Ennio Morricone sample. Of course it does. And who’s that on the keyboards? Stuart Price. Of course it is. Bravo tutti. Noah Kahan: The Great Divide Before dance music dishevelled my beautiful mind, I was a connoisseur of that particular kind of folksy singer-songwriter who came after Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell: poetic, subtle, intelligent, led by the voice and persona of the singer. And I do have a real soft spot for Noah Kahan, who came to prominence a few years ago with 2022’s Stick Season. Kahan’s latest, The Great Divide, is in the same style and thematically encircles the same concerns, which would be concerning for an artist working in any other genre. But, like the poets, the singer-songwriters have discovered the basic truth that some things, like “I love you,” are worth repeating. For Kahan, that’s true, but it’s also true that some things merely repeat, as in the demeaning cycles of paycheck-to-paycheck labour—and he’s a faithful scribe of that kind of suffering capital wants to make invisible. “American Cars” almost evokes for me the Springsteen of “Racing in the Street” whose narrator’s got nothing but the race—but Kahan’s song is bogged down by 21st-century malaise, its depressed narrator “gaslighting [his] friends” and sick of false promises of escape (“You’ve been driving all day / But you’re home and I’m so grateful you are”). Meanwhile, continuing our automobile theme, “Headed North” channels road rage against a Tesla Cybertruck. Fuck yeah! “But at least I got a soul still”, Kahan sings on the bittersweet “Haircut,” a song which tries hard to balance resentment with sympathy for an old friend. Kahan was there for them when they were down—but now they’ve left their hometown and write for the New York Times! Resentment seems to be winning out, which is always the threat in Kahan’s world of small-town couch-surfing left-behinds. But when he hits the applied chord ([V/iii] for those of you following along at home) on the chorus’ phrases “fast food” and “bad news”—driving harmonically onwards at the moments in the lyric when defeat seems most available—some stodgy part of me delights in an old cliche so simply and coherently indulged. You could almost call it idiomatic. Jonathan Biss, Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra: Beethoven/5, Vol. 5 Well, well, well. Before the po-faced singer-songwriters bludgeoned me into acceptance of mediocrity, I was a classically-trained flautist. True story! Beethoven/5 is the brainchild of the American pianist Jonathan Biss, known for his interest in the composer, and Volume 5 completes the project, which was to commission and record live five new piano concertos, each responding to one of Beethoven’s. I’ll confess I’m largely here for Caroline Shaw, one of my favourite living composers, whose commissioned response, Watermark, is very cool. In Watermark, she’s unafraid to quote quite extensively from Beethoven, and ornaments his figures with orchestration techniques and prog-ish harmonies that will hopefully feel familiar to fans of Johann Johannssohn and Radiohead alike. The second movement in particular is quite stunning: Shaw’s taste for pizzicato textures and stutteringly swelling string figures is on display, as well as her strong command of voice leading. In the album’s main dish, Beethoven’s third concerto, the Swedish Radio Symphony plays well under their concertmaster Malin Broman, though the winds are a touch “vertical” in their phrasing—not bad, necessarily, for Beethoven, I suppose, but neglecting the fury, the rushes of thought and expression, that are a hallmark of the composer’s style. While Biss takes quite a refreshing, literal approach, I do wonder if he or his audio engineer could have coaxed out a little more variety in the colour of his playing, especially in the third movement. Nonetheless, it’s hard to be disappointed at the completion and release of this lovely project, which reminds us that Beethoven at his best is not to be treated as a monument but a friend, someone whom we are still in dialogue with centuries after his death.

Connections Answers: First Connection Fasteners/hardware: Bolt, Nut, Screw, Washer Second Connection Sweet spreads/syrups: Honey, Syrup, Jam, Molasses Third Connection Baseball roles: Pitcher, Catcher, Batter, Runner Fourth Connection Dreamworks Animation Characters: Hiccup, Po, Donkey, Wallace

This is part one of a three-part series examining the VUWSA executive, with this instalment focusing on student clubs. A proposal to shift control of student clubs from Te Herenga Waka—Victoria University of Wellington to the Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association (VUWSA) has sparked confusion and concern among club members, following a series of emails sent in late March. University management confirmed that “high-level conversations” have taken place with VUWSA about the future of club administration, but said no decision has been made. However, the proposal—details of which had not been publicly announced—prompted the rapid emergence of organised opposition from students. Student clubs are independent, student-led organisations spanning cultural, academic, political, and recreational interests. Te Herenga Waka’s Have Your Say survey data shows steady growth in club numbers, increasing from around 90 in 2017 to nearly 200 today. Clubs are currently administered by UniRec, which provides funding, oversight, and logistical support. Emails On 24 March 2026, a student group launched the “Save Our Clubs” campaign, beginning with an email sent to clubs warning that “[Clubs Name] is about to lose its University backing.” The message raised concerns about a proposal to transfer club administration from UniRec to VUWSA and urged recipients to oppose the change. The email appeared to catch many clubs off guard. VUWSA had not publicly announced the proposal, and many club members were unaware that discussions had taken place. The following day, VUWSA Clubs and Activities Officer Cam Dickson emailed all registered clubs under the subject line “Clarity and Kōrero – VUWSA Clubs Proposal.” He wrote that “a few of the points made [by Save Our Clubs] don’t line up with the current proposal,” but did not directly address several of the campaign’s key criticisms. Instead, the email outlined VUWSA’s general approach, which is detailed later in this article. On 27 March, the University also contacted clubs. Director of Campus Operations Simon Johnson wrote that UniRec “continues to administer club support as usual,” and confirmed that no decision had been made about transferring responsibility. He added that “some high-level conversations have been held” between the University and VUWSA, and that any proposal would require further development and consultation. Save Our Clubs spokesperson Arie Joe told Salient that the lack of consultation was a key concern. “This proposal was negotiated behind closed doors,” he said. “Not a single club was asked [if they wanted club ownership to transfer to VUWSA].” The sequence of emails has raised broader questions about transparency and the extent to which clubs have been included in discussions about their future. The History This proposal has been a long time coming. To understand how VUWSA arrived at this point, it’s necessary to look back at a series of changes to how student clubs have been funded and managed. Before 2012, VUWSA administered student clubs under a system of compulsory student union membership. All students were automatically enrolled and required to pay membership fees, providing student associations with a stable and guaranteed source of funding. That changed on 1 January 2012, when Voluntary Student Membership (VSM) came into effect. Introduced as a member’s bill by ACT MP Heather Roy, the legislation made student union membership optional rather than automatic. The impact was immediate. Students no longer had to join or financially support their student association, cutting off a major source of guaranteed income. At the time, Salient reporter Stella Black-Kelly wrote at the time “…student associations could previously charge students a compulsory membership fee, but voluntary student membership means they no longer have that guaranteed revenue stream…” Following the introduction of VSM, an independent review recommended that the University take over administration of student clubs, citing inconsistent support, poor communication, slow funding processes, and a lack of clear systems under VUWSA. Since then, VUWSA has repeatedly pushed to take back control of clubs—in 2018, 2023, 2025, and again in 2026—keeping the question of who should run them firmly in play. A Timeline Author’s note: feel free to skip this if you just want to know what’s happening in 2026, but it outlines why clubs were given up and earlier versions of the proposal. 2012 At the start of 2012, VUWSA was still reported to have control of clubs. However, by mid-year this had changed. In the 4 June 2012 issue of Salient, Black-Kelly wrote: “On a brighter note, VUWSA no longer has control of clubs, societies and rep groups following the independent review recommending that the University would do a better job.” The review in question—the Review of Club Support and Structure (April 2012)—was a joint report commissioned during this transition period and was obtained by Salient for this article in 2026. The review found that clubs required consistent, professional support, rather than fragmented or student-led administration. It emphasised the importance of dedicated staff, integrated services, and centralised systems—areas where the University was better positioned to deliver long-term stability. It also identified structural issues in the existing system, including poor communication, inconsistent service delivery, and unclear access to resources. Clubs reported confusion around processes, gaps in support, and a lack of coordinated oversight. Financial and administrative processes were another concern. The report highlighted inefficient and slow grant systems, limited transparency, and the need for more streamlined, jointly managed funding structures involving both staff and students. Finally, the review stressed the importance of sustainability and continuity. With high turnover in student leadership, clubs needed ongoing training, institutional memory, and structured support—something a student association alone struggled to provide consistently. It’s important to note this is an older report, produced in a specific post-VSM context, and does not necessarily reflect VUWSA’s current capacity or how it might operate clubs today. However, that context continues to shape the current debate . 2018 In the 2017 VUWSA executive nominations piece published in Salient, Marlon Drake—who was a presidential candidate that year—did not mention a club's takeover in his campaign platform. However, he became involved with clubs early in his term. In 2018, reporting in Salient indicated early interest from VUWSA in regaining responsibility for student clubs. In an article titled Eye on Exec, writer Louise Lin reported that “Marlon (VUWSA President) and Connor (Clubs and Activities Officer) went on a trip down to Otago and Canterbury, to look at how the unis there run their clubs. VUWSA is thinking of changing up how we run ours.” Later that year, Lin reported growing support among clubs. “In a recent survey to university clubs, 62% of respondents believed that the administration of clubs on campus should go to VUWSA. Currently, the university manages clubs through Victoria Recreation.” Clubs and Activities Officer Connor MacLeoud said that the proposal originated at a club level. “A lot of clubs share my view, that Victoria Recreation weren't properly managing clubs.” Lin reported that “Overall, 39% of Vic's 174 clubs responded to the survey.” Furthermore, at the 2018 VUWSA Annual General Meeting, Drake responded to questions about the survey, saying most respondents supported returning control to VUWSA. He said the issue had also been discussed at the Joint Student Union Board (JSUB), and emphasised the move was not a “power grab,” but an attempt to begin a conversation about how clubs could best serve students. He added that this approach would be communicated to clubs in the near future. However, Salient was unable to access JSUB documents or any communications sent to clubs to verify how this was presented in practice. 2023 In the 2022 VUWSA executive nominations piece published in Salient, Jessica Ye—who would go on to become VUWSA president in 2023—did not mention the transfer of club administration among her stated priorities or campaign promises. No contemporaneous reporting or publicly available documentation from 2023 appears to record any shift toward this policy. However, the proposal was already on the table, as indicated by a 2023 document outlining VUWSA’s intention to take over clubs and societies, obtained by Salient in 2026. The proposal framed the change as an improvement to the existing system rather than a response to any identified issues, emphasising a more “student-centric” model and increased community engagement. It outlined a range of initiatives—including a digital clubs portal, centralised support services, and a proposed $50,000 annual grant—but provided limited detail on how these would operate in practice. The most detailed aspect of the document was its financial outline. VUWSA described the proposal as cost-neutral, relying on the transfer of existing University funding for clubs rather than new investment. University figures included in the proposal show total annual spending on clubs and societies sitting at approximately $250,000–$337,000, with the 2023 budget at $336,949. This funding was broadly allocated across: Staffing: ~$150,000 (2 full-time staff and 1 casual role) Sponsorship funding: ~$160,000 Operations and IT: ~$18,000 Events: ~$7,000 Security and cleaning: ~$1,000 The proposal suggested that costs could be reduced by removing or restructuring the Clubs Manager role, potentially lowering staffing requirements to around one full-time equivalent, alongside efficiencies from consolidating reception services and introducing a digital system. These savings were intended to be reinvested into clubs through increased funding and resources. An additional $50,000 VicBooks Grant, funded separately through the VUWSA Trust, was proposed as a new funding stream for clubs. However, while the proposal included high-level figures, it did not provide detailed financial modelling or breakdowns to support claims of sustainability or savings. As the proposal was not adopted, and predates current discussions, it provides historical context rather than a definitive reflection of VUWSA’s present plans. 2025 In the 2025 VUWSA executive nominations piece published in Salient, Liban Ali—who would go on to become VUWSA president in 2025—did not mention clubs as a campaign promise. However, this position emerged in practice during his presidency. In 2025, VUWSA renewed its push to regain responsibility for student clubs. In a Salient article by Darcy Lawrey titled VUWSA Wants Clubs and Societies to Come Back Home, Ali said the association was planning to take back management of clubs, describing it as a commitment during his term. Ali said, “if we want a strong, fun space for clubs and societies, it should be done by students, for students.” The proposal outlined a partial transfer of responsibilities, with UniRec continuing to manage sports clubs, while VUWSA would take over non-sports clubs and societies. The article echoed the 2023 Clubs Proposal that planned additional funding, a proposed $50,000 grant pool, and shared promotional platforms for clubs. 2026 In the 2025 VUWSA executive nominations piece published in Salient, Aidan Donoghue—who stood as a presidential candidate that year—stated in his candidate bio a campaign promise to “return to VUWSA clubs and societies.” In the same issue, in an interview titled Meet the Candidates: Prez, Donoghue reiterated this position, identifying “getting back Clubs and Societies” as one of his key campaign priorities, alongside proposals such as “turning the games room into an Opportunity shop bringing in a new revenue stream in the long run.” The Present As reported in Salient by Ryan Cleland, VUWSA President Aidan Donoghue reiterated his campaign promise to return clubs from UniRec to student association management. Donoghue said returning non-sporting clubs to VUWSA remains a “massive priority,” with discussions ongoing between VUWSA and the University. He said the proposal would see sporting clubs remain under UniRec, while non-sporting clubs shift to VUWSA oversight. Donoghue also said VUWSA aims to strengthen the role of clubs on campus by building greater collaboration and community among club executives. Simon Johnson, Director of Campus Operations, said in the earlier 27 March email to clubs that they “acknowledge that VUWSA would like to play a greater role in club support however there has been no decision to transfer clubs support and administration to VUWSA.” The Plan Full details of the proposed transfer of club administration in 2026 have not been publicly released. VUWSA President Aidan Donoghue and Clubs and Activities Officer Cam Dickson said the proposal is not intended to address a specific failure in the current system, but to build on it. “Fundamentally this proposal is not about addressing an existing fault/issue but rather improving upon the existing model,” Donoghue said. “VUWSA wants what University Recreation wants: For students to have the best possible time at university and participation in your chosen club is critical to that experience.” “VUWSA believes we offer a unique ‘for students by students’ approach which differentiates us from other service providers.” “Ultimately, clubs got their start under VUWSA and we believe with concentrated effort we can give students a sense of ownership over the administration of the clubs they love.” The most detailed outline available to clubs was provided in an email sent by Cam Dickson, responding to Save Our Clubs on 25 March. In it, he outlined a proposed structure in which social and cultural clubs would affiliate with VUWSA as their primary administrative body. According to Dickson’s email, clubs would receive: Administrative support from full-time VUWSA operational staff, including room bookings and general admin services (available 9am–4pm) Continued University backing, including use of the University’s name, logo, facilities, and services Access to funding primarily from the Student Services Levy, with additional supplementary funding from VUWSA Potential additional funding for “aspirational projects” benefiting the clubs community Greater input into funding decisions and strategy through a proposed clubs council It remains unclear whether elements of earlier proposals under former VUWSA presidents Liban Ali and Jessica Ye are still part of the current plan. These previously included: The creation of centralised social media platforms to promote clubs and events An additional $50,000 funding pool for “aspirational kaupapa”, proposed through a Vic Books Grant Donoghue said discussions with the University are ongoing, with the possibility of a phased implementation and a timeline that could extend to 2027. When asked about this proposed timeline and the current status of discussions, the University provided a broader response. In a statement attributed to Chief Operating Officer Tina Wakefield, the University said that while VUWSA had presented a proposal in 2023 and discussions have continued since, “there is no firm proposal to transfer responsibility,” and that “nothing has changed since the email update provided to clubs on 27 March 2026.” Asked whether the 2026 proposal could be made public, Donoghue said: “At this stage, no. Our proposal is a living document that will [undergo] many changes before finalizing…” He said it would be inappropriate to release draft material while discussions and internal approvals were ongoing, but that it would be shared once it is “much more concrete.” Dickson said VUWSA’s continued work on the proposal had enabled it to reach its current stage. “We’ve shown immense commitment to this project … we’re now at a point where we can concretely negotiate,” he said. He added that the proposal aligns with VUWSA’s “core kaupapa” of improving the student experience, and would provide a “clear and tangible improvement,” though no specific or measurable outcomes were detailed. Simon Johnson said in his 2026 email to clubs that “any future proposal would require further development and consultation with relevant stakeholders, including clubs and student leaders, before any decisions are made.” The proposal remains in development, with key elements—including its full scope, operational structure, and intended outcomes—not yet publicly available. Finance In its Te Aka Tauira Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association Budget 2026, VUWSA describes itself as “the least funded Student Association in New Zealand.” They state that “this is unlikely to change if the University continues to control the allocation of the Student Services Fee.” This raises questions about why the association is seeking to take on greater responsibility for clubs while continuing to highlight significant financial constraints. However, in response to these concerns, VUWSA leadership has emphasised that any transfer of clubs would need to be financially sustainable. Donoghue said the proposal is intended to be financially neutral, with funding transferred from the University alongside responsibility. “We’re not saying out of the current pool anything would change … we need enough to be given to us to run them as well,” he said. He added that the proposal would not proceed without sufficient resourcing, particularly for staffing. “[We] would need a sustainable model for staffing … what we don't want to do is take clubs and then break them and then give them back to the university,” he said. Dickson said the proposal would rely on the existing Student Services Levy (SSL), which is currently allocated to University Recreation, alongside continued access to University facilities, branding, and services. “Currently, this portion of the SSL is provided to University Recreation … so, should VUWSA administer clubs, we expect to utilise the existing funding pool, with intention to supplement this pool from our own funds,” he said. Dickson added that additional resourcing could come from VUWSA reserves and Trust funds, provided it is used in a way that is “deeply impactful and financially sustainable.” Salient contacted VUWSA Treasurer/Secretary Sanjukta Dey, who confirmed she had been consulted by Dickson about the potential use of Trust or reserve funds to support the proposal. She noted that, once further developed, the initiative could form a strong proposal not only for approval but also for input from more experienced Trust members. However, she emphasised that any approach to the Trust must reflect VUWSA’s highest priorities and would require prior approval from the executive. No detailed financial modelling, budget breakdown, or cost projections for the proposal have been made public. Student Response Save Our Clubs has launched a petition opposing the proposal. As of 22 April, the campaign reported 69 verified individual signatures and endorsements from six clubs: Victoria University of Wellington Wargaming Society, Te Aro Pasifika Students' Association, VUW Games Club (Board Games and Roleplaying Club), Victoria Lacrosse Club, Victoria Pakistan Student Association (VPSA), and Cosplay Club. VUWSA President Aidan Donoghue questioned the reliability of the petition data, citing examples of invalid names appearing in submissions. However, Save Our Clubs spokesperson Arie Joe defended the petition’s legitimacy, stating that each submission is tied to a name and email address and manually verified, with invalid entries removed. “What we do have is a public petition with real names attached to it,” he said. Donoghue went on in his interview with Salient to describe the campaign as representing a “vocal portion” of students. He said those views were being taken seriously. Despite this exchange, Donoghue confirmed it is not currently undertaking formal consultation with clubs on the proposed change in administration. In Dickson’s previously mentioned 25 March email, VUWSA said it had been in discussions with the University “for some time,” raising concerns among some students that clubs are being approached only after key elements of the proposal have already been developed. There is no publicly available evidence—such as surveys or broader engagement—indicating the overall level of student or club support. This has led to wider concerns about consultation. While VUWSA leadership has emphasised that student feedback is important, no clear timeline or process for consultation has been provided. Clubs have not been publicly consulted on a potential transfer of administration since 2018. In comments to Salient, Dickson said VUWSA had previously been in contact with one of the campaign’s organisers prior to its launch, but that “this dialogue wasn’t continued after the launch of the campaign, and no other students expressed direct support or involvement in ‘Save Our Clubs’, so no further conversations were pursued.” He added that the proposal remains “very much a work in progress,” and could not yet be shared publicly to ensure negotiations and consultation are “fair and follow best practices,” stating that “this may become appropriate sometime in the future” and that students would be kept informed. However, no timeline, process, or prior examples of such information being publicly shared were provided to substantiate this reassurance. Responses directly from clubs have varied. In a public statement, the Victoria University of Wellington Tramping Club said it was “not in support of this campaign,” and that the proposal would have limited impact on incorporated societies like theirs. The club also raised concerns about the campaign’s credibility and methods, including the use of contact information and the absence of named organisers. By contrast, members of the Victoria University Musical Society executive described to Salient initial concern following the campaign email, saying it focused on negative outcomes and created uncertainty for newer clubs. They said they sought further information but remained unsure about the proposal and its implications, adding that despite the flurry of emails, they “still have no idea what’s going on” and, as a newly established club, “don’t know what to think.” In Summary It is difficult to summarise a proposal that remains largely unpublished—particularly when much of what is known comes from partial outlines, emails, and statements about a plan still in development. However, from what can be pieced together, the proposal would see non-sporting clubs move from UniRec to VUWSA administration, with clubs affiliating under VUWSA, supported by at least one full-time staff member, and potentially represented through a clubs council influencing funding decisions. Members of the VUWSA executive have framed the change as an opportunity to enhance the current system through a “for students, by students” model, rather than as a response to any specific shortcomings. At the same time, no clear issues with the existing UniRec structure have been publicly identified, and the practical differences for clubs—beyond a shift in oversight—remain unclear. Key details are still missing. The full proposal has not been released, financial modelling and cost breakdowns are not public, and earlier ideas such as additional funding pools or shared promotional platforms remain unconfirmed. While the proposal is described as financially neutral and reliant on existing funding streams like the Student Services Levy, this has not been substantiated with detailed figures. Consultation is also unresolved. Although both VUWSA and the University state that consultation would be required before any decision, there is little evidence of broad engagement with clubs prior to the proposal reaching this stage, and no clear indication of what future consultation will involve. It also remains unclear when, or if, students would have been formally notified about the proposal had the Save Our Clubs campaign not brought it into wider attention. For now, clubs remain under UniRec administration, and it has not been clearly established—at least publicly—why that arrangement should change.

Luca Vita It is late evening on 10 July 1985. The Green Peace ship Rainbow Warrior sits docked in Auckland Harbour. On board, the crew celebrate ahead of their upcoming voyage to protest atomic weapons testing in the Pacific Islands. Unbeknownst to the crew, two navy divers from the French DGSE secret service are silently fixing explosives to the hull. Shortly before midnight, two explosions tore through the ship, sinking it and killing crew member Fernando Pereira. The attack marked a violent climax in Aotearoa New Zealand’s nuclear-free movement. While the story of the Rainbow Warrior still occupies a place in our collective memory, what is less talked about is the wider movement surrounding it. The anti-nuclear movement is one of New Zealand’s most significant involvements on the world stage. In the late twentieth century, New Zealanders pushed back against some of the world’s most powerful nations, determined to keep nuclear weapons out of their region. At the time when it mattered most, Aotearoa stood up for itself and its Pacific neighbours. Today, as the world becomes increasingly uncertain, it is worth reflecting on what it took to achieve freedom from nuclear weapons in the South Pacific. THE BEGINNING New Zealand’s pushback against weapons of mass destruction began in 1955. That year, the United Kingdom requested to move its nuclear testing programme to the Rangitāhua Kermadec Islands. At the time, Britain was searching for a new test site, having previously used locations in the Australian outback. Prime Minister Sir Sidney Holland refused the request, fearing strong public backlash. However, it would not be until the 1970s when Aotearoa’s staunchly anti-nuclear stance would take hold. During the mid-1960s, France had begun conducting above-ground atomic trials in French Polynesia. Specifically, the Moruroa and Fangataufa atolls near Tahiti were selected. France shifted their weapons program to the Pacific after Algeria—its former colony—gained independence and barred further use of North African sites. By the early 1970s, nuclear testing in the South Pacific had become frequent. Despite growing opposition and repeated requests from neighbouring countries, the detonations continued. In response, New Zealand, Australia, and Fiji took legal action. By mid-1973, all three had brought cases against France before the United Nations International Court of Justice. These efforts eventually proved successful. In a precedent-setting decision, the International Court of Justice arbitrated against the French nuclear tests. Opposition to nuclear testing was not limited to legal appeals. By the early 1970s, there was significant public outrage. Green Peace, along with other groups, began organizing protest voyages to the South Pacific. In 1972, the first flotilla of anti-nuclear vessels set sail for Moruroa atoll, led by the Rainbow Warrior. Only the Rainbow Warrior ultimately reached the atoll. Even so, this marked the beginning of many such missions, with ships from Aotearoa repeatedly entering the exclusion zone. As the protests continued, the French military response became increasingly hostile. Vessels entering the zone were met with attempted boardings, harassment, and even ramming by the French Navy. Despite the risks, activists persisted, determined to disrupt scheduled nuclear tests. Protest efforts were not limited to civilians. After France failed to comply with the International Court of Justice’s ruling, the New Zealand government stepped up its efforts. In 1972, Prime Minister Sir Norman Kirk authorised navy frigate HMNZS Otago, followed by HMNZS Canterbury, to set sail for Moruroa to oppose the French tests. To further emphasise the weight of the protest, cabinet minister Fraser Coleman was sent aboard to accompany the two frigates on their journey. The selection of the accompanying minister was decided by drawing names from a hat. It has been suggested that Coleman—then Minister of Mines and Immigration—had his name written on every slip. Mounting international pressure finally achieved success. In 1975, France accepted the International Court of Justice’s ruling, bringing an end to above-ground nuclear testing. However, this was only a partial victory. Testing did not stop entirely—rather, it shifted underground at Moruroa and Fangataufa, where detonations continued for decades. FOCUS ON THE US The next major focus of Aotearoa’s nuclear-free movement was the presence of American naval vessels in New Zealand ports. As a long-standing ally of the United States, New Zealand would frequently see US naval vessels dock in its ports. However, growing concern surrounded their nuclear propulsion systems and the possibility of onboard weapons. Many Kiwis feared the risk of an accident involving one of these boats. As Prime Minister Sir David Lange later put it, “there is only one thing I suppose worse than being killed by the nuclear weapon of your enemy, and that is being killed by the nuclear weapon of your friend.” From the mid-1970s, protests intensified. American ships entering New Zealand harbours were met by flotillas of fishing boats and other small vessels attempting to disrupt their arrival. The USS Truxtun, Long Beach, Haddo and Pintado all received the same treatment, swarms of small boats flooding the harbour upon their entry. At the time, the United States maintained a policy “to neither confirm, nor deny” whether their ships carried nuclear weapons. The ambiguity only deepened public concern. While not all visiting vessels were capable of carrying nuclear arms—and many that were did not necessarily have them onboard—the uncertainty remained a central issue. This concern was reinforced when the US Secretary of State confirmed that, at times, naval ships would indeed be armed with nuclear weapons. Despite growing opposition, Prime Minister Sir Robert Muldoon allowed US naval visits to continue. Muldoon saw these port calls as part of New Zealand honouring its commitments as a United States ally and a member of ANZUS—the security alliance between Australia, New Zealand, and the United States. At the time, ANZUS was a cornerstone of Aotearoa’s defence policy. However, by 1984, this was all about to change. It was an election year, and Muldoon’s government held only a slim majority. Public opposition to atomic weapons had reached Parliament, and Labour had introduced an anti-nuclear bill. National MP Marylin Waring broke ranks, and told Muldoon she would not be voting against the bill. Soon after—having spent the evening drinking—a visibly drunk Muldoon staggered out to the press gallery and called a snap election. The result was decisive. Labour, led by David Lange, came to power with a clear promise to end American port visits. The United States government did not expect the new government to follow through with its promise, and continued to plan ship visits. This came to a head in 1985, when the US requested access for the USS Buchanan, a vessel capable of carrying nuclear weapons. American officials had hoped that, by sending an older ship unlikely to be unarmed, they could avoid the new policy. However, this plan failed due to their “neither confirm nor deny” policy. Unable to verify the ship’s status, the New Zealand Government refused entry. The decision strained relations between the two countries. The United States declared that New Zealand’s stance would “not be without cost,” downgraded its status from “ally” to “friend,” and reduced defence cooperation. BACK TO FRANCE The collapse of ANZUS did not mark the end of international pressure on Aotearoa. While tensions with the United States continued, France persisted with nuclear testing in the South Pacific. These detonations remained a central focus for protest groups within New Zealand. The Rainbow Warrior had only recently returned from the Pacific when it was preparing for another voyage in July 1985. This mission was intended to interrupt an upcoming test at Moruroa atoll. In response, the French government authorised a covert operation to prevent the ship from sailing. A team of eight DGSE agents was deployed to New Zealand, all travelling under forged passports. Two navy divers were tasked with planting explosives, while the remaining agents supported the operation. After the bombing, the divers and four other agents escaped, with some being extracted by a French nuclear submarine before authorities could formally link them to the incident. Two agents were less fortunate. Captain Dominique Prieur and Commander Alain Mafart were arrested while returning a rented camper van used in the operation. They were charged with document fraud and subsequently sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment for their involvement. France responded with diplomatic pressure, threatening to sanction Aotearoa by blocking future trade deals with the European Economic Community (the precursor to the European Union). A compromise was eventually reached. The agents’ sentences were reduced and transferred to a French military base in Polynesia. France agreed to pay reparations to New Zealand, Green Peace, and the family of Fernando Pereira. However, Prieur and Mafart did not remain there for long. Within two years, both were returned to France, where they resumed their careers as DGSE officers. FALLOUT France would not end its nuclear testing programme until 1996. This marked the first time since the end of World War II without testing in the South Pacific. Despite an end to the explosions, the radioactive scars left behind can still be seen today on islands across the Pacific. According to Green Peace, a total of 325 nuclear devices were detonated in the Pacific by France, the United Kingdom and the United States. Combined, these explosions had a force roughly equivalent to 11,600 Hiroshima bombs. All three nations individually contaminated thousands of square kilometres of land and ocean. More disturbingly however, multiple communities were knowingly and repeatedly subjected to dangerous levels of radioactive fallout. A recent report estimated the impacts of France’s nuclear testing. It is predicted that in one test alone, as many as 110,000 people across French Polynesia could have been contaminated. This represented nearly 90% of the French Polynesian population at the time. In other instances, only small isolated communities were impacted. However, the consequences in these cases were much more serious. Radioactive rainwater caused heightened rates of cancer. One island was subjected to the effects of nuclear testing 31 times. While it is difficult to determine the exact number of cases, the stories of those living on the islands paint a grim picture. The X-rays of one cancer victim depicted him as a ‘heavy smoker’ despite him never having smoked a cigarette. French nuclear weapons testing certainly had the largest impacts, though Britain and America committed similarly harmful acts. Aboriginal communities suffered at the hands of British testing and the inhabitants of the Marshall Islands were victims of American fallout. These communities were plagued by increased cancer rates, in particular thyroid cancers. The thyroid being the part of the body most susceptible to radiation poisoning leaves little doubt as to what the cause might be. And yet, the rhetoric—and behaviour—of these states has hardly changed. Only recently, French President Emmanuel Macron signalled his nation's intent to increase its nuclear arsenal, stating “To be free, one must be feared. To be feared, one must be powerful.” Even after decades of struggle, countries continue to maintain and modernise their stockpiles. CONCLUSION The destruction of the Rainbow Warrior was nothing short of an act of state terrorism. The sinking was a tragic example of the lengths New Zealand’s supposed allies would be willing to go to in order to protect their nuclear interests. The path to a world without atomic arms remains long. In the words of David Lange, “New Zealand’s policy … has not caused the arsenal of weapons with nuclear ability to be reduced by one.” Still, what Aotearoa and the Pacific have achieved is significant. Nuclear testing in the South Pacific has ended. Communities no longer live under the immediate threat of fallout. New Zealand remains nuclear-free and an advocate against the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. Today, that role is as important as ever. Aotearoa must continue to lead in opposing the development of atomic weapons and in holding nuclear-armed states to account.

What to watch on Welly’s local streaming service 2025 was the first year I properly attended the New Zealand International Film Festivall—and I didn’t hold back. Volunteering as an usher meant I could catch films on shift and score a handful of comped tickets. Across two weeks, I watched 17 films… a respectable effort. While some of my favorites haven't hit streaming yet (I cannot WAIT to recommend Ratchapoom Boonbunchachoke’s A Useful Ghost), here are a few standout NZIFF 2025 titles that you can scream right now on Arovision. Go to ondemand.arovideo.co.nz and get watching! Sorry, Baby (2025) — $8 dir. Eva Victor, USA “They’re calling Eva Victor “America’s answer to Phoebe Waller-Bridge”” — _hawz, Letterboxd I haven’t laughed this much in a long time—which is mind-blowing from a film exploring the aftermath of sexual assault. Eva Victor is a powerhouse: writing, directing, and starring in this deliciously well balanced dramedy that manages to maintain its softness while ripping your heart out. Victor plays Agnes, a literature professor dealing with the fallout of a bad thing that happened. The plot is non linear, jumping back and forth between the current day to her postgraduate days, around the time of the bad thing. Her close (and at times sapphic) friendship with Naomi Ackie’s Lydia, who lived with her through postgrad and visits in the present day, really grounds viewers through the switching timeline. The exploration of trauma in this film is unlike anything else I’ve seen. There are moments of tenderness so rich I felt my heart would pop. The mood is quietly devastating, though I’ll reiterate that this was also the funniest movie I watched last year. Beyond its content, Sorry Baby is also just gorgeous to look at (though I am a sucker for anything New England). This is one to watch with friends; you’ll want people to laugh with, and need shoulders to cry on. The biggest Oscar snub of 2025. I don’t really know how else to sell this movie to you… it's just so itself. Go on! Go watch it! Mistress Dispeller (2025) — $8 dir. Elizabeth Lo, Hong Kong “babe wake up new dream job just dropped” — aarnwlsn, Letterboxd This documentary explores the Chinese profession of “mistress dispelling.” If a wife suspects infidelity, she can hire a specialist to befriend the mistress and persuade her to end the affair—often under a fabricated identity. The film follows a dispeller as she works with one particular couple. It's honestly shocking how much access director Elizabeth Lo had to the process; we get to see every part of this dispelling—from private discussions between the married couple, to the first meeting of husband and dispeller, to the final interactions with the mistress. Beyond the hooky premise, the film approaches relationships and infidelity with such overwhelming sensitivity. Mistress Dispeller is one of the better documentaries I’ve seen. I watched it at the Roxy after a Tinder hookup, who tagged along to kill some time before their flight… WILD experience to say the least. Would not recommend. I reckon much more fun to rent this on Aro and live-commentate with your flatties. Nouvelle Vague (2025) — dir. Richard Linklater, USA “avengers: endgame for people subscribed to mubi notebook” — garbaggio, Letterboxd This is a based-on-a-true-story film that dramatises the production of Jean-Luc Godard’s movie Breathless, one of the most influential proponents of the French New Wave (hence the title… which is just “new wave” in French). For those who don’t GAF about film history—this movement embodied a DIY ethos, setting out to subvert the norms of filmmaking at the time (high budgets and soundstage sets). Think of it as the indie filmmaking of 60s France. Nouvelle Vague exhibits some of the defining features of Breathless; handheld cameras, choppy editing, and the same 1:37 aspect ratio. Not only does Linkelater show you how the sausage got made, he evokes the feeling of eating it, too. This movie will remind you of the innate creativity baked into all of us. You don’t have to be well versed in the New Wave—or even know what it is—to enjoy Nouvelle Vague. Outside of its context, it’s still very funny, very fresh, and very French. But don’t worry, cinephiles! There’s plenty of fun easter eggs for you to feel proud about noticing. Breathless (1960) — $6 dir. Jean-Luc Godard, France “I'd be pretty damn Breathless too if I smoked that many cigarettes.” — leviyoung572, Letterboxd This movie is more about form than content, so I’ll let you go in blind. Mandatory precursor to Nouvelle Vague. NOTE FOR JIM - Nouvelle Vague and Breathless are sister recs so maybe you can group together somehow? Thanks! Honorable Mentions The President's Cake and Exit 8 are two more NZIFF films that aren’t yet on Arovision but are currently screening at Lighthouse Cinema on Cuba Street. The first is an intimate Iraqi drama (my third fav film of the fest!), the second a Japanese horror videogame-adaptation. Each film excels in its genre and either one would be worth a trip to the movies!