Academic freedom defined in section 267(4) of the Education and Training Act has a number of elements, one of which reads as follows:
“(4) In this section, academic freedom, in relation to an institution, means
……. (a) the freedom of academic staff and students, within the law, to question and test received wisdom, to put forward new ideas, and to state controversial or unpopular opinions.”
There is no comparative freedom within the general law apart from section 14 of the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act which reads:
“Everyone has the right to freedom of expression, including the freedom to seek, receive, and impart information and opinions of any kind in any form.”
Given those expressions of the right to hold and voice unpopular points of view, and which, in the minds of many, may be aspirational or comfortable words rather than meaningful and solidly enforceable rights, it is of concern how much resistance there is in New Zealand to challenges to orthodox positions or what could be considered doctrine.
“Orthodox” is defined in the Oxford English Dictionary as “Holding right or correct opinions, i.e. such as are currently accepted as correct, or are in accordance with some recognized standard” and orthodoxy is defined as “The quality or character of being orthodox; belief in or agreement with what is, or is currently held to be, right”
It doesn’t do to challenge orthodox points of view, even although challenging such positions has historically played a pivotal role in the advancement of knowledge, reform, and social change.
However, it also carries significant risks—personal, social, political, and even existential. These dangers vary depending on the context in which orthodoxy is challenged—be it religious, political, scientific, or cultural.
Those who challenge orthodoxy often face exclusion from their communities, families, or professions. This isolation can be emotionally devastating and professionally limiting. A “classical” example (pun intended) can be seen in Socrates who questioned Athenian moral and political norms, leading to accusations of corrupting the youth and impiety. He was tried and sentenced to death in 399 BCE. His method of dialectical inquiry threatened the ideological foundations of Athenian democracy.
The State and institutions often view dissent as a threat to stability or authority. Challengers may face surveillance, imprisonment, or worse.
Galileo Galilei, in advocating for heliocentrism, directly challenged the Catholic Church’s geocentric doctrine. He was tried by the Inquisition and placed under house arrest for the remainder of his life. His scientific claims were perceived as a challenge to religious authority and scriptural interpretation.
Another example is Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, who exposed the Soviet Gulag system in The Gulag Archipelago. His works led to expulsion from the Soviet Writers' Union and eventually exile from the USSR.
In science, medicine, and academia (despite the high principles of academic freedom), challenging prevailing theories or methodologies can lead to funding loss, publication bans, or dismissal from academic posts.
Ignaz Semmelweis, who proposed hand-washing to prevent puerperal fever in the mid-19th century, was ridiculed and ultimately institutionalized. His ideas contradicted dominant medical theories and hospital practices of the time, though later proven correct.
In contemporary times, researchers questioning prevailing scientific consensus (e.g., on climate change or vaccine efficacy) may face intense scrutiny—not always unjustified—but also the risk of bad-faith smear campaigns or cancellation, even when raising legitimate questions.
Religious orthodoxy has been rigid since the Fourth Century CE and often frames dissent as heresy or blasphemy, which in many cultures or historical periods has justified extreme punitive measures.
Martin Luther challenged the authority and practices of the Catholic Church in the 16th century, initiating the Protestant Reformation. He faced excommunication and the threat of execution. The Diet of Worms in 1521 demanded he recant; he refused.
In more recent times, Salman Rushdie faced a fatwa calling for his death after the publication of The Satanic Verses, considered blasphemous by some Muslims. The ideological weight of orthodoxy in religion can lead to severe, even violent, reprisals.
Frequently orthodox economic or political policies are often tied to vested interests. Challenging them can result in the loss of income, clients, or institutional support. Whistleblowers like Sherron Watkins (Enron) or Edward Snowden (NSA) exposed systemic wrongdoing. Though their actions prompted important discussions, they lost their jobs and, in Snowden’s case, had to flee the country. Challenging institutional orthodoxy can destroy careers.
Challenging orthodoxy can be mentally taxing, as it involves sustained resistance against majority belief, ridicule, or intense public scrutiny. Alan Turing, though not challenging orthodoxy in a deliberate philosophical sense, was a pioneer of modern computing and code-breaking. His homosexuality—illegal in Britain at the time—led to persecution and chemical castration. He died by suicide. His genius challenged social norms, and the system responded with cruelty.
Even when a challenge to orthodoxy is right those contributions may be buried or ignored if they offend the dominant culture’s values or beliefs. Hypatia of Alexandria, a female philosopher and mathematician in 5th century CE, was murdered by a Christian mob for her pagan beliefs and influence. Her story was largely erased for centuries, only recently rehabilitated in feminist and historical narratives.
She is the subject of an excellent movie entitled “Agora” starring Rachel Weiss as Hypatia. The movie uses historical fiction to highlight the relationship between religion and science at the time amidst the decline of Greco-Roman polytheism and the Christianization of Egypt, Lebanon and the Middle East.
While the dangers are considerable, challenging orthodoxy is also the engine of progress. Every major scientific, ethical, or political breakthrough—from abolitionism to women’s suffrage to quantum physics—has involved questioning foundational beliefs. However, dissent should be informed, principled, and prepared for the possible consequences.
I was recently given a book to read by Dr. Helen Overton entitled “Demonising a Good Doctor: The Medical Scandal That Wasn’t”. The book is an examination of the events that led up to the publication of an article in Metro in 1987 about an “Unfortunate Experiment” at National Women’s Hospital that resulted in a Judicial Inquiry chaired by Judge Silvia Cartwright which became known as the Cartwright Inquiry.
The book is a challenge to the orthodox position that being that the Cartwright Inquiry got it right. It attacks this position on a number of fronts, suggesting that there was a misunderstanding of terms, that there were social and political agendas at work and that the objective behind the scenes was to smear the medical profession, creating an enduring stigma.
Dr Overton claims that the Inquiry and its aftermath undermined public trust and confidence in the medical profession. She claims, with justification, that a good health system relies on trust in its professionals. She states:
“Perhaps more than any other event in recent years, the Covid 19 pandemic has highlighted to critical importance of faith in the professionals involved. People need to trust those who are guiding their health decisions or chaos can ensue. The destruction of trust following the Cartwright Inquiry opened the way to reforms that harmed the New Zealand health services for decades to come.”
Dr Overton is careful throughout the book to avoid passing judgement on the handling of the Covid 19 pandemic, although rather like questioning the Cartwright Inquiry was a challenge to orthodoxy, those who questioned the handling of the Covid pandemic were demonised merely for challenging the orthodox view.
It is not the purpose of this article to examine the arguments in the book, nor to review it. If anyone wishes to read the book it is readily available. It was published in 2023 and was printed by Yourbooks (http://yourbooks.co.nz) which suggests that it was privately published. Given the subject-matter and the fact that the book is a head-on attack of an orthodox – a passionately held orthodox – view it is probably not surprising that it could not find a mainstream publisher.
What the book does highlight is the way that the orthodox establishment defends itself and deals with those who challenge the orthodox view. In essence there is no room for a contending or a contrary opinion.
Dr Overton early on in the book anticipates a critique based on the fact that her father – Dr Graeme Overton – was an early critic of the Inquiry.
Dr Graeme Overton was of the view that the value and strengths of a democratic process are that crucial and verifiable opinions should be able to be expressed without prejudice – and open to public debate. Dr. Helen Overton opines that
“in revisiting the “Unfortunate Experiment” this has not been possible. Contrary opinions are not welcome, are seldom printed and invoke demeaning criticism rather than discussion. In New Zealand, revisiting the “unfortunate experiment” is a minefield inviting self-destruction”
and
“Views opposing the ‘accepted truth’ from the Inquiry have been thwarted by persistent and organised efforts to suppress them. I have always held the view, maybe naively, that in scientific or medical debate, rebuttals and defence of factual evidence should dominate the discussion”
But there were others apart from Dr. Graeme Overton who have presented different accounts to that of the orthodox view.
Journalist Jan Corbett, who died at the age of 47, in June 1990 published an article in Metro entitled “Second Thoughts on the Unfortunate Experiment at National Women’s.” She was roundly condemned for this article – so much so that in October 1990 she wrote a follow-up article entitled “Have You Been Burned at the Stake Yet”.
Corbett’s position was defended by the then editor of Metro, Warwick Roger, who considered some of the responses to Corbett’s article as “intellectual thuggery”.
Twenty-one years after the Cartwright Inquiry Professor Linda Bryer published her book A History of the Unfortunate Experiment at National Women’s Hospital.
The Auckland Women’s Health Council described this as a reprehensible attempt to rewrite history although it was in fact the first history of the matter that had been published.
The review of the book by the Auckland Women’s Health Council observes that Bryder’s book:
“was not the first time that attempts had been made to dispute the findings of the Cartwright Inquiry and to discredit the testimony of many of those who gave evidence at the Inquiry.”
The full article can be read here along with other articles that address issues arising from Professor Bryder’s book. The page provides a good illustration of how the forces of orthodoxy rally to dispute a challenge to an established view.
Bryder certainly attracted considerable criticism for her approach. She was accused of using rhetorical ploys.
There were others who questioned aspects of the orthodox view such as Angelka Raffle and J. A. Muir Gray, Robin Carrell of Cambridge University along with others. But as I have said, this article is not about the validity of the criticisms of the Cartwright Inquiry but of the way that orthodoxy admits of little opposition.
The role of media at the time of the Inquiry was also a matter of mention for Dr Overton. She states:
“The media is a master of sensationalism. Shocking revelations, often based on scant evidence, are its daily trade. The apparently new revelations were released in an already emotionally overheated Inquiry. The media whipped this into a fury of public opinion against the “medical profession” as Cartwright referred to doctors in general.”
Not a lot has changed and certainly over the Covid pandemic the media toed the orthodox line which, co-incidentally, happened to be that of the Government, who added spice to the mix with the conditions-laden Public Interest Journalism Fund.
Dr. Overton raises a couple of issues which have some relevance for the Covid pandemic. One involves the use of statistics. She is of the view that as a result of the pandemic New Zealanders have a better understanding of statistics.
“They have seen how statistics can be very confusing and misleading and how hard they are to apply to daily events”
The other issue involves the difference between expert evidence and expert opinion. Often in law the two are conflated so that the evidential side – the facts of the science or the matter of expertise in question – becomes the basis for the opinion side. In such a case the factfinder – the jury or the judge – must be careful not to allow the expert’s opinion to become that of the decision-maker without critical examination and analysis.
Dr. Overton made the following observation:
“There have been thousands of ’expert opinions’ on Covid-19, on lock-downs and immunisations because initially there was very little evidence. We rely on consensus until the evidence is clear. The consensus can only be proven right or wrong in retrospect. It is based on unvalidated opinions”
The only problem is that in some cases the consensus remains as the orthodox view despite evidence to the contrary.
In the context of the Covid pandemic the experts were ranged in a concerted effort to support or justify Government decisions which had a significant impact on the lives and freedoms of citizens. The statisticians predicted the number of deaths likely if certain steps were not followed although these conclusions were based on hypotheticals and “modelling”. The epidemiologists provided solutions to stop spread based not on what was known about Covid but upon management of previous epidemics. How it was that anyone devised the disastrous Managed Isolation and Quarantine (MIQ) programme is still a mystery although it lasted for nearly two years.
In addition expert opinions were put forward – note the difference between opinions and evidence – along with those such as the Disinformation Project who supported the orthodox position and denigrated those who did not. The Disinformation Project expanded its brief to support the progressive orthodoxy of the time.
One amusing example of the critiques that Dr Helen Overton has faced followed the publication in the Listener of an excerpt from her book. This resulted in a rebuttal from Sue Claridge of the Auckland Women’s Health Council Newsletter for July 2023. It contains the following extraordinary statement:
“I have not read Overton’s book, only the extract published in the New Zealand Listener, her media release, and some of the letters to the editor in response to the Listener article.”
Thus, her critique of Dr Overton’s view is limited only to that expressed in the Listener excerpt rather than the entire book which would have provided a more nuanced and complete understanding of Dr. Overton’s perspective, unacceptable though that might be. This does not appear to be a common approach to Dr. Overton’s book but it represents in my view a less than rigorous approach by those advocating the orthodox view of maintaining their position, and an example of when passion and reflexive opposition can blinker a rational approach..
I have given a very broad and somewhat superficial overview of the way in which Dr. Overton’s book, and the critics before her have challenged an orthodox view and how they have been dismissed.
Because the issue is such an emotive one, and because there are vested interests still at play, the orthodox establishment deals with those who challenge by debating the issue (which is an acceptable view) but also by the tried and true methods of veto statements, ad hominem attacks or relying on the weight of authority emphasising the judicial inquiry process, and the fact that the orthodox view has been accepted over decades. However, it should also be noted that there have been challenges to that view.
There are many orthodoxies in our society – views which are so entrenched that there is a certain futility in challenging them. And in addition, new orthodoxies arise.
One of these involves the place of tikanga Maori in the law. This has been a highly contested issue of late. A course in tikanga is now a compulsory part of a law degree although as a result of the efforts of Gary Judd KC it is not compulsory for tikanga to form part of other courses that a mandatory requirements for law degree.
If tikanga were simply custom there could be little objection to it being incorporated into law. Customary practices have often been elevated into legal rules, especially in the area of commercial law. The problem is that tikanga is more than that.
In its simplest form it is the “right way of doing things” according to Maori custom. It is based on a set of interrelated principles and values that are embedded in oral traditions, rituals, and the lived experiences of Māori communities.
Its source of authority comes from its intergenerational knowledge, passed down through whakapapa (genealogy), oral histories, rituals, and practice. It is contextual, communal, and adaptive—responsive to new situations while grounded in inherited values.
However, tikanga has a spiritual element although it is not “religious” in the Western montheistic sense. Its basis is nevertheless spiritual and cosmological and is inseparable from Māori cosmology (Te Ao Māori), which incorporates a number of spiritual or mythological elements.
One of these elements is that of Creation Narratives in that tikanga is underpinned by traditional creation stories especially the separation of Ranginui (Sky Father) and Papatūānuku (Earth Mother) gave rise to the world and the atua (spiritual beings/gods).
Tikanga often reflects the interpersonal dynamics of these atua and their descendants, influencing how humans relate to each other and the environment.
Another element is based on Tapu and Noa. Tapu (sacred or restricted) is a spiritual state that protects people, objects, and places. Noa (common or unrestricted) balances tapu to allow ordinary interaction. These concepts regulate behaviour and are enforced through tikanga—breaching tapu has serious consequences, spiritually and socially.
A third element involves Atua or Spiritual Beings. Tikanga reflects the ongoing relationship between people and atua such as Tāne Mahuta (god of forests), Tangaroa (god of the sea), and Tūmatauenga (god of war and human activity)
These atua are not just mythological; they are active spiritual presences that inform how people engage with different aspects of the world.
Thus, Tikanga Māori is a comprehensive and holistic system of values and practices rooted in ancestral, spiritual, and cosmological understandings of the world.
While it is not "religious" in a formal doctrinal sense, tikanga is profoundly spiritual, infused with the sacred relationships between people, the land, and the atua. It regulates social conduct, maintains balance, and gives meaning to existence in a way that is both pragmatic and transcendent.
I have embarked upon this discussion to demonstrate in very brief form the nature of tikanga. Its modern absorption into the law is becoming more and more a part of the orthodoxy surrounding the development of a post-colonial legal system. If it continues tikanga as law will have become reality and an orthodoxy and this poses a problem.
The law does not have a spiritual or religious element. There has long been a debate about the place of morality in the law and whether the law is subject to fundamental moral precepts.
But because tikanga does have a spiritual aspect once that is introduced into law, that spiritual element becomes part of the orthodoxy surrounding the law. And this poses a problem because the law is agnostic in this respect. It makes no demands of conscience or faith. Yet once there is a spiritual element lurking within the law that element must be accepted if the law itself is to be accepted as valid.
If this were to come about, to challenge that orthodoxy would be fatal to one’s ability to become a member of the legal profession or to practice law. It would be similar to the Test Acts in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth centuries which were designed to exclude Catholics from positions of power. Indeed in the reign of the first Elizabeth Edmund Plowden, who developed the genesis of what we understand as law reporting, was unable to practice because he was a Catholic.
Now this has not yet come to pass, but it provides an example of how blind acceptance of orthodoxy may have serious and deleterious consequences. And it is for this reason that orthodoxies must be challenged whenever and wherever they arise, if only to ensure that the final outcome of whatever result may eventuate is one within which all people may comfortably live.
We have had experience of the tyranny of orthodox thinking, especially over Covid. If there is anything that we can learn from that experience it is that orthodoxy must be challenged and the precepts that apply within the academy of questioning and testing received wisdom, as set out in the academic freedom definition of the Education and Training Act, should be applicable across society.
At the time of the enquiry report I read quite a few opinions from overseas experts and (with an MSc Hons in physiology and biochemistry) I certainly wasn't convinced that the findings were beyond question. Many subsequent opinions agree. There were certainly big [feminist] guns out for blood and I was very uncomfortable with the destruction of careers that ensued.
Bravo David: this post should be required reading for ALL politicians; media and teachers...
one of the many striking elements of your post summarises your overall point fairly well:
"...In contemporary times, researchers questioning prevailing scientific consensus (e.g., on climate change or vaccine efficacy) may face intense scrutiny—not always unjustified—but also the risk of bad-faith smear campaigns or cancellation, even when raising legitimate questions..."
But I commend folks to read your entire post. Thanks for publishing.