Transforming science: how our structures limit innovation.

• Author: Barnes, Helen Moewaka

Abstract

This paper argues that how we define and position Maori knowledge, science and research in Aotearoa is often limiting. These definitions and approaches are underpinned by power dynamics that see developments occurring in ways that rarely challenge established power relations. Our organisations and structures are not culturally neutral, and Maori strategies have a tendency to become add-ons catering to "difference". As a result, we take a narrow approach to developments in this sector. A more balanced approach is argued for, which examines not only Maori-specific developments, but also the nature of the institutions that are charged with facilitating these developments. There are Treaty-driven obligations that support this argument, as well as a need to fully value and consider the richness and diversity that all people in Aotearoa have to offer.

INTRODUCTION

In 2002 the Health Research Council funded a study on quantitative methods and methodologies within Maori paradigms. One of the objectives was to examine Maori approaches and theory in relation to quantitative research. However, in the course of carrying out this study, a more fundamental question emerged about ownership of research and research practice in general. In some sectors, research involving quantitative approaches is seen as less Maori and less acceptable to Maori. This is, in part, because numerical traditions have become subsumed by the dominant science practices. In addition, some Maori feel more comfortable and familiar with qualitative methods, seeing them as giving voice to people and therefore resonating with descriptions of Maori culture as oral and holistic. Thus, at least to some extent, comfort with qualitative methods is about feeling able to claim some ownership. However, attitudes towards quantitative and qualitative methods and methodologies are also shaped by the difficulties that institutions and research practitioners have in conceptualising Maori science and practice, sometimes to the point of denying their existence.

In order to explore these issues, I have set about examining how we position knowledge, science and research in Aotearoa. The focus of this paper is the survival and position of Maori research and science in a contemporary setting. As Feyerabend (1991) argues, the ascendancy of western-dominated science is a result of the power and resources poured into it at the expense and denigration of other systems. This has seen Maori knowledge (2) and practitioners marginalised, and the less-than-successful engagement of Maori in the research, science and technology sector. Organisations seeking to improve this situation often focus on the development of Maori-specific policies without acknowledging the role that their organisational culture plays. As a result, Maori knowledge and research struggle for space and credibility, and as a nation we fail to value and nurture the full depth of knowledge that exists in this country.

POWER AND KNOWLEDGE

These debates about approaches and value would be very different if power imbalances were not present. The power to involve or exclude, to marginalise or legitimate, is the critical difference between the dominant culture and indigenous peoples (Agrawal 1993, Agrawal 1996 cited in Grenier 1998). The two systems have their meaning in relation to one another: the indigenous system is seen as the lesser (Durie 1995, Macedo 1999, Cunningham 2000) and is frequently described and defined in opposition to the dominant system. "Western" knowledge is owned by the dominant system and "other" knowledge (that which is identifiable and describable as "different") belongs to the other, the indigenous people. It has been argued that "policy makers accept the prevailing default definitions, which are inevitably those established by political power in its customary alliance with practical positivism" (Nash 2001:209). In this case, the "default definition" is the limited construct of knowledge based on difference, and seen as having its origins in a largely pre-colonial past.

Thus dominant systems determine what knowledge is, what is legitimate and what is real, and present this as "universal" (Semali and Kincheloe 1999a:29, Smith 1999). This process renders invisible the cultural paradigm from which "universal" springs. Smith (1999:63) argues:

The globalization of knowledge and Western culture constantly reaffirms the West's view of itself as the centre of legitimate knowledge, the arbiter of what counts as knowledge and the source of "civilized" knowledge. This form of global knowledge is generally referred to as "universal" knowledge, available to all and not really "owned" by anyone, that is, until non-Western scholars make claims to it. What constitutes knowledge--and who decides such matters--has consequences for the place of Maori knowledge and practice and, consequently, how New Zealand selects and constructs its identity in terms of global knowledge and global participation. We need to challenge the compartmentalisation of Maori knowledge and its status, particularly in relation to the current desire for innovation. Power is an integral part of this. Without examining the way in which structures that can facilitate innovation and development operate, and the paradigms that they operate within, innovation is likely to be linear, not lateral. The danger is that "more often than not, change will be in the directions which consolidate the established power relations of the country" (Cram et al. nd.:5). For Maori this is inequitable, and for New Zealand as a whole it is limiting because it misses the opportunities we have for valuing and supporting all our knowledge systems.

Just as we are debating diversity of identity, we also need to consider the diversity of Maori world views and the practices that flow from these. Power is, again, an integral part of these dynamics. Care must be taken not to validate or authenticate one over another or we run the risk of claiming ownership only of that which is distinct. The danger is that we will replicate hierarchies of knowledge and exclude what is seen as less "authentic". Generally this manifests itself as a tendency to give higher status to what is seen as uniquely Maori, often described in terms of "traditional" knowledge; that is, knowledge seen as originating largely in a pre-colonial past. I do not wish to undermine the value of these taonga, (3) but rather suggest that all Maori knowledge has value. We need to consider and embrace this knowledge in its broadest sense to enable all our experiences and knowing to be available to te iwi Maori.

WESTERN VERSUS INDIGENOUS

In New Zealand, breaking the trajectory of Maori epistemology some 150 years ago has now placed us in a position of arguing whether Maori science exists. According to the New Zealand Herald (2003), the question of whether or not there is such a thing as Maori science "has been debated since the question of funding such a sector was put aside a decade ago in the creation of the Crown research institutes". This question could as easily be asked of western science. Although it is often referred to as a cohesive system, Smith (1999:44) has outlined the multiple traditions that the west draws on, describing it as "a 'storehouse' of histories, artefacts, ideas, texts, and/or images, which are classified, preserved, arranged and represented back to the West". Semali and Kincheloe (1999b:25) cite hundreds of years of interchanges between Europe and various nonwestern cultures, and describes various areas of knowledge usually seen as belonging to the west--to name a few, magnetic science and chemistry from China; Polynesian knowledge of navigation and sea currents; and Australian Aboriginal peoples' knowledge of flora and fauna (Hess 1995, Baker 1996, Scheurich and Young 1997 cited in Semali and Kincheloe 1999a).

Although these and other (usually indigenous) writers do discuss what is meant by "western", it has been more common to debate and reflect on what identifies and differentiates indigenous knowledge and practices at the levels of both policy and application. For example, in New Zealand, social scientists are almost without exception required to address their processes concerning Maori in some way when seeking contracts, developing funding proposals or applying for ethics approval. It is important that these requirements are in place, but what this means is that we constantly reflect, Maori and non-Maori, on processes related to Maori culture and rarely reflect on, or give a name to, Pakeha research practices and culture. Research with particular groups such as youth or the elderly might require particular attention but, if the participants are part of the dominant group, their ethnicity is not an issue. Researchers are not required by ethics committees or funders to address appropriateness of methods etc. for Pakeha (non-Maori), or to explain in proposals what skills or record of accomplishment they have in working with these communities. The processes involved in working with these groups are a normalised...