The line "Do not speak to me of rules" in The Bridge on the River Kwai is uttered by Colonel Saito, played by Sessue Hayakawa, and it's a pivotal moment in the film. It's not a single line, but rather a statement made during a heated exchange with the Allied officers, particularly with the British officers, including Colonel Nicholson, played by Sir Alec Guiness.
The line is spoken when the Allied officers are trying to assert their own rules and standards of conduct within the prisoner-of-war camp, particularly regarding work and discipline. They are resistant to the Japanese rules, which they see as barbaric and unjust.
Saito, as a Japanese officer, sees the Allied officers' attempts to impose their own rules as a defiance of his authority and an infringement on his own system of order within the camp. He is not particularly interested in their perspective or their adherence to the rules of civilization.
The line highlights the clash between different systems of belief and conduct, particularly between the Japanese and Allied perspectives on how to conduct themselves in a wartime setting. It underscores the conflict between their perspectives on discipline, labor, and even the nature of war itself.
The line is a turning point in the movie, marking a shift from initial attempts to navigate the Japanese system to open defiance and ultimately a more radical approach to overcoming the constraints imposed by the Japanese. It sets the stage for the subsequent events, including the construction of the bridge and the events leading to its destruction.
The theme behind the statement and the context within which it was made may still be relevant.
Simon Wilson wrote a piece which was published online and in the hard copy Herald for 21 May 2025. The online piece went under the headline “Outrage! Te Pati Maori, pay equity and the rules of Parliament”. The hard copy Herald used the headline “How We Use Rules to Protect the Powerful”. The text of both articles is identical.
I have commented on Simon’s writing before. He approaches issues from a progressive perspective. But this article demonstrates something of a shift in emphasis and elements of neo-Marxist analysis, critical theory and indeed critical race theory glimmer through the cracks of Wilson’s prose.
The gist of his article is a critique of the use of rules, first to silence dissent and then as instruments of oppression.
In the first part of his article he looks at the way that the rules governing the conduct of Parliament were broken by three members of Te Pati Maori. The breach was wanton. But as Wilson would have it there should be no consequence for this breach. And that throws into question the purpose of rules and how they should be enforced when breached. Wilson adopts the position that the reaction of sending the haka incident to the Privileges Committee and the imposition of a sanction is redolent of the disciplining of a wayward child although in describing the offenders as “uppity” he strays very close to ascribing white supremacy to the Privileges Committee. Only one word is missing after “uppity” but I shall refrain from using it.
But the essence of the first part is that the rules of the House are being used in a heavy handed fashion to discipline not outrageous behaviour (which it was) but performative dissent (which it also was) but the behaviour accompanying it went beyond the constraints of the Rules.
Rules impose boundaries and whether Wilson likes it or not (probably not) that boundary was crossed. There must be a consequence.
But this is not about a power imbalance. Those who enter the House are expected to abide by the Rules. If they are not prepared to do so then they should leave.
But Te Pati Maori, contemptuous of the House to which their constituents have elected them, choose to disrupt and demean the process. Perhaps they should ask themselves why are they there.
The second part of Wilson’s article is an exercise on his part to attempt to demonstrate how the rules (law, if you like) allow certain things to be done. In addition the rules of Parliamentary procedure allow matters to be taken under urgency. And the supremacy of Parliament allows retrospective legislation (something I personally abhor) to be enacted.
Wilson then uses the fact that the Rules allow certain things to be done that perhaps should not have been done. The problem is that Wilson is really critiquing the morality of the proposals that have been enacted while conceding their legality. And so the argument is really a moral one about the rightness or wrongness of what is done.
But throughout the article Wilson uses the disempowered/empowered issue to highlight his argument and by employing this dialectic he is straying into the questionable fields of neo-Marxist critical theory analysis. Wilson obviously sees the present issue about which he writes through that lens but it is important for readers to recognize that for it may have some bearing upon the validity, reliability or acceptability of his argument.
As I have so often said about Wilson’s writing – in critiquing what he says I am disagreeing with or critiquing his reasoning and his approach. I am not denying him the right to hold his opinions. I am not denying him the right to express them and he is fortunate that he has a job that provides him with a platform to do so.
I have set out Wilson’s article in full below. I have not done a full paragraph by paragraph critique but my comments are interlineated in italics.
How We Use Rules to Protect the Powerful
The debate is delayed, but it seems Te Pāti Māori is still to be punished for breaking the rules.
Correct. The Rules of the House were broken. There must be a consequence. Without a consequence the Rules effectively are not worth the paper that they are written upon.
There’s one good thing about this: those same rules mean Parliament can’t tie the offenders to posts, strip off their clothes and whip them senseless.
What a stupid and meaningless comment. I doubt that there was ever such a consequence in history for breaking the Rules governing behaviour in the House. It seems that Wilson may have been thinking of military punishments in the Army and Navy of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth centuries.
But in my view, the Privileges Committee’s lengthy bans and fines are the “civilised” equivalent of that older punishment.
Complete nonsense. There is no equivalency between physical punishment and the consequence proposed for breaking a Rule of the House
A three-week ban from the debating chamber is proposed for party leaders Debbie Ngarewa-Packer and Rawiri Waititi and seven days for Hana-Rāwhiti Maipi-Clarke, and they lose their salaries during that time. No other MP has been treated even remotely as harshly.
That isn’t harsh. It is a legitimate consequence. The Rules of the House surrounding the movement of MPs are strict and of ancient origin. It has always been recognized that passions may be heightened in Parliament. For that reason the gap between the Government and Opposition benches is set at a distance equivalent to the length of a couple of swords. In the days when that rule was developed Members came into the House armed. Similarly the rules about moving out of the seat or crossing the floor – as Julie Anne Gentner did. That sort of confrontational behaviour is not tolerated. And the haka was confrontational and challenging in the extreme.
Their sin: they left their seats in Parliament and performed a haka in front of Act MPs, as the vote on Act leader David Seymour‘s Treaty Principles Bill was ending.
Exactly and for the reasons I have outlined above. This is not trivial as Wilson infers. It is a serious and wanton breach.
Labour‘s Peeni Henare joined in the haka but has escaped punishment because he has expressed remorse.
Clearly Henare realised he was in the wrong and expiated his offence. The Te Pati Maori people whose goal is disruption and performative gestures would never back down.
It’s not because they did a haka, Prime Minister Christopher Luxon told RNZ on Monday. “That actually happens often. It’s actually about not following the rules of Parliament.”
Precisely. The Rules are there for a purpose and they must be obeyed. Disobedience carries a consequence.
It so often is. The merits of a complaint against power are sidelined by the powerful, who would prefer not to debate the complaint itself. The sanctity of the rules is far safer ground.
There are ways of debating the complaint and there are not. Te Pati Maori chose to break the Rule rather than engage in the merits of the argument. Wilson descends into the realm of neo-Marxist critical theory when he characterizes the issue as a powerless/powerful conflict.
For one thing, the rules are apolitical, or so we’re supposed to think.
And so they are – they apply to all members.
For another, focusing on the rules appeals to a desire for order and even for fairness: if we don’t have rules, how can we know what justice is?
Correct
But if rules are for regulating behaviour, that also points to a deeper purpose: they reinforce the authority of those who make them. Rules aren’t apolitical, or neutral. They protect the powerful. We all know this, we learned it when we were little children.
Whoops – here we go into the neo-Marxist rhetoric again. The Rules of the House are there to ensure proper behaviour and a reasonable debate uninterrupted by threats and intimidation.
What else did we learn when we were young? Naughty people must be taught a lesson. And by “taught a lesson”, we don’t mean “given a special educational opportunity”. We mean punished.
Breaking the rules means that there are consequences for a choice of bad behaviour. That is what is meant by teaching a lesson – that chosen bad behaviour that breaks the rules carries a consequence for which one must be held accountable.
We cling to that one, even when our culture is full of warnings of what can go wrong. Everything from the Abuse in Care report to movies like Hunt for the Wilderpeople and We Were Dangerous reminds us that punishment is often meted out not on merit, but to reinforce power.
No – not the case. The examples given are extreme and fail to consider the wider societal issue – it is not about power but recognizing that there are boundaries which, if crossed, result in a consequence. Those making the decisions sometime get it wrong. But that does not invalidate the rule-based system.
That’s what’s happening here: a reminder of the hierarchy of power is being visited on some “uppity” people who won’t sit down, won’t show contrition, won’t shut up.
This continues the neo-Marxist line together with the veiled suggestion that the so-called hierarchy – those who live their lives according to the rules – are white supremacists. Note the “uppity” people reference. Substitute “people for the “n” word and you have Simon’s expression of critical race theory coming through loud and clear.
And what of the rules themselves? Both Luxon and Judith Collins, who chaired the committee, have hung their desire to punish on the suggestion the haka prevented Act MPs from voting.
But Act had already voted.
No it wasn’t about Act being prevented from voting. It was about behaviour that broke the rules. As I recall it, the Maori Party was about to vote and the performative display that followed submerged that.
Given that, why has Collins not apologised and recalled her committee to reconsider its decision?
Oh so there is now a need to apologise? Apologise for what. That the rules are being enforced, because if they are not then they are meaningless.
If the committee was a proper court and not a politically motivated circus, the manifest falseness of this “they were stopped from voting” argument wouldn’t survive half a second on appeal.
Wilson ignores the Constitutional reality of the fact that Parliament is a Court – in fact it is the highest Court in the land and the Privileges Committee is a Committee of that Court. Problem is that Te Pati Maori chose not to engage and we in the legal profession are well used to that. Judgement was entered after a consideration of the facts and in default of appearance or argument by Te Pati Maori.
Some have said Te Pāti Māori was doing it for show, that it was all theatre. Excuse me? What goes on in the debating chamber is all for show.
I disagree with the last part. What goes on in the debating chamber and in Select Committee is hard work. Yes, there is a certain theatricality about it as there is in any Court. But what Te Pati Maori does is total performance. They play to their constituency of the disaffected.
Besides, the committee didn’t agree it was just performative. Its report says: “There is no question the behaviour of Ms Maipi-Clarke, Ms Ngarewa-Packer and Mr Waititi could have the effect of intimidating other members.”
It was performative but the performance was designed to insult and intimidate.
But there very much is a question. Te Pāti Māori says interpreting its MPs’ actions as “a potential threat of violence reflects personal prejudice and ignorance of tikanga Māori, not reality”.
The evidence is plain for anyone who wishes to view the performance. The fact that it has achieved millions of views testifies to its outrageousness. The reality was one of bullying and aggressive intimidation. After all that is what a haka traditionally was meant to do – to threaten and intimidate the enemy.
The evidence suggests the Act MPs agree with that. Photos and video of the incident do not show them taking evasive action, defending themselves or even looking worried. They seem to be doing their best to look bored.
The Act MPs did the only thing they could do as a captive audience faced with bullies. Endure the performance. Should they have resisted? Of course not. There was no way for them to leave without worsening an already appalling situation.
These politicians have been confronted by challenging haka before, at Waitangi and elsewhere. They’re well versed in the rituals. We all are.
But not in the House
Seymour likes to call haka a “war dance”, but that’s demonstrably not the role of haka today.
Say what you like Wilson, but it all depends on context. This was anything but friendly. It was full of the miasma of hatred and contempt coupled with a desire to abuse, bully and insult together with a total abandonment of the standards of behaviour expected of elected representatives of the people..
They can be ferocious, confronting, sometimes even fuelled by rage. But in the modern age, no one gets hurt. Whatever the occasion, haka provide a ritualised outlet for some very strong emotions. That should be respected.
Wilson seems to forget the place where all this took place – where intimidation, crossing the floor, bullying and aggression are not to take place.
Haka also say: “Just because I’m not literally going to attack you with my taiaha doesn’t mean you should ignore this. I really am enraged.”
That should be respected too. Haka are ubiquitous now and on the whole that’s a good thing. But it does tempt us to think their proper role is to entertain or to mark a significant moment. Te Pāti Māori has reminded us that isn’t true.
Once again Simon forgets the location where this took place. Haka may be expected on a marae or a sports field but not as a form of bullying aggression in the Legislative Chamber where there are rules of behaviour and consequences for breaches of those rules.
The thing about rules is that they don’t always correlate with doing the right thing. This has been coming up a lot.
And now comes the shift in focus and at the outset Simon is unable to make the distinction between a set of procedural rules for an institution that govern the behaviour of members in the House and substantive or normative rules that are something else altogether. And here we move to the legality/morality area of the discussion. Perhaps Wilson should look at the Hart/Devlin debate about this issue. Lawyers of my vintage are well familiar with this exchange. But it may be a bit dense for Wilson.
The Government undid the provisions of the Equal Pay Amendment Act, a law that established a framework for assessing pay equity claims. Most Government MPs were part of the Parliament that voted unanimously for this law in 2020.
The abolition of that framework is retrospective and it was done under “urgency”, so there was no chance for public input or considered law-making.
The rules allowed all this but that doesn’t make it right. It’s another blatant example of the way rules can be used against those without power.
The nub of these paragraphs are that the rules allow the changes to the Equal Pay Act – changes not completely repeal. That Government MPs voted for the generous rules in 2020 doesn’t mean they can’t vote to change them. It is clear that the Equal Pay regime was an overreach and went further than was intended. The new regime preserves the Act but changes the assessment methods.
I agree that retrospective legislation is abhorrent. It is even more abhorrent when it deems a behaviour an offence and has the effect of back dating that. But that isn’t the case here. Nevertheless, retrospective legalislation is to be avoided. Further references below.
The Government has tried to claim the act needed changing because it had got “out of hand”. Social workers, they scoffed, were being compared with detectives!
But why not? The most common type of crime in this country is family harm. Juvenile offending is also common. We expect social workers to know who’s committing both these types of crime and somehow to manage the households involved so it stops. And we blame and shame them when they get it wrong. Detectives face very little of that.
The pay equity provisions of the 2020 law constituted a good bunch of rules, but they threatened the power balance. Can’t have that.
I’ve got another comparator: Why don’t we compare teachers with MPs?
Teachers have to think on their feet every second of the working day. Their base salary range is $61,329 to $103,086 and two-thirds of them are women. MPs, most of whom are men, are told how to vote and get an entry-level salary of $168,000.
This is not really a valid comparison. Apples and oranges comes to mind. I am sure that Wilson can do better than that but if you forgive the pun he has a tendency to go for the low-hanging fruit.
Abandoning the pay equity rules means scrapping 33 claims already in the system, each of which represented good-faith commitment to research and analysis that was going to be held up to rigorous scrutiny. That’s a disgraceful way to treat the rules.
That’s also true for not allowing select-committee hearings: it undermines the democratic process and invites bad law.
Urgency is provided for in the Rules. It may not be ideal but it is available and is a valid way of getting legislation through the log-jam that can occur in Parliament.
As for making the new law retrospective, that’s frightening, because it suggests none of us know if we are currently breaking the law. Not the current law, but some law from the future that could be used against our behaviour now.
I have already noted this. But this does not retrospectively criminalise behaviour. The spectre that Simon raises is not present in this case. He could well spend some time reviewing the provisions of section 26 New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 and section 12 of the Legislation Act 2019 if he wants to see what the law (rules) has to say about the issue. He might then be able to express a more rational and less emotive argument.
Maybe you think that’s a stretch. In my view, anyone who holds to the sanctity of rules should be well exercised about that one.
“I think it’s really important that the rules are upheld,” Luxon said about the haka incident. But he doesn’t think that about the pay equity rules he voted for in 2020.
There is no comparison here. Parliament can amend legislation. That is the rule. The behaviour complained of breached the rules that Parliament has put in place to regulate its own procedure.
Worst of all, binning the 2020 act means an estimated 150,000 women and their families have been denied billions in income that was going to be theirs.
Not correct. It means that the current claims can not be advanced under the repealed rules. But the claims can still be brought. The test required to succeed has changed. Simon’s comment is a simplistic overstatement.
Why did the Government chose to make women the victims of its Budget cuts? Not because it was the right thing to do. How could they think that, after voting for the 2020 act?
They did it because they could. The rules let them get away with it.
“Get away with it” is emotive language. The Rules allow it.
Rules, eh. No political party has been hauled before the courts for electoral corruption, despite considerable evidence that at the very least deserves close legal examination. The rules allow it.
The Government has imposed a funding regime on the health system that puts lives in jeopardy and undermines the wellbeing of tens of thousands of people. The rules allow it.
Speed limits are rising, which means, say experts everywhere, that more people will die. The rules allow it.
All true. To say otherwise would be to deny Parliamentary supremacy in the legislative process. What Simon raises here are not critiques over the changes to the law that the law allows but whether or not there is a moral foundation for those changes.
The rules also allow Parliament to take no clear stand over one of the most pressing moral touchstones of our time: what’s happening in Gaza. I know opinion is divided, but I agree with UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese, who calls it “genocide”.
Simon may agree with the UN Rapporteur but that leands no weight to his argument which is that “the rules also allow Parliament to take no clear stand” does he mean the rules allow Parliament to take a clear stand (which Simon says it has not done). Perhaps Simon’s black and white keffiyeh blew across his eyes as he was proofing this section of his article.
And the Government has signed up to an agreed set of rules for lowering climate emissions, even though it is in the process of breaking them. The rules allow that too.
Once again this is the contest between legality and morality. This is a discussion that has bedevilled lawyers for centuries.
It’s a trope of this debate that the rules of Parliament have already been bent to let Māori in. Te reo is officially allowed, haka and waiata are heard in the galleries and on the floor, some parts of the Parliamentary complex contain beautiful, richly meaningful whakairo (carving), raranga (weaving) and other expressions of tikanga Māori.
“Bent” – rather the Rules have been adapted to let Maori in. Te Reo is officially allowed because it is an official language. Perhaps he should consult section 5 of the Maori Language Act 2016 – one of those “rules” that Wilson seems vexed about. But the official nature of Te Reo predates that. It became an official language pursuant to the Maori Language Act 1987 which came into force on 1 August 1987.
We should be proud of all this. But almost none of it has changed the Victorian protocols of our Parliament. An insistence on the archaic behaviours of the English ruling class are everywhere.
The rules have not changed because there is no need for them to change. To demonise them as Victorian or of the English ruling class is emotive and absurd. Wilson would do well to read a piece by Liam Hehir entitled “Roaring About Urgency, silent about authority” to inform himself of the way in which different societies regulate their decision-making processes.
To advance an argument that smacks of post-colonialism is a cheap shot and another example of Wilson’s hunger for low-hanging fruit.
Worst of all, the rules allow much of the business of Parliament to be conducted with little to distinguish it from a cockfight. Pun intended.
Parliament is a robust forum. Always has been. And it requires rules to constrain the robustness and keep it within boundaries
I’m not arguing against rules. They are helpful and often necessary, especially when they safeguard freedoms and protect the vulnerable. But rules designed to insulate the powerful are a different matter. And so is keeping a sense of proportion.
I hardly think that the rules around the Parliamentary process are designed to insulate the powerful. That is a false assumption and ignores the development of Constitutional history that lies behind our present Parliamentary process. Perhaps Wilson should consult his history. For an easy read may I suggest G.M. Trevelyan’s “History of England” and especially Part Four which deals with the development Parliamentary Liberty. It may be a bit “colonial” for Wilson and it is a somewhat Whiggish approach, but a good account.
Hana-Rāwhiti Maipi-Clarke became a global sensation when she ripped up the Treaty Principles Bill in Parliament. An awful lot of people understand what she did and why. They’ve heard “you can’t break the rules” before, many of them perhaps all their lives. They know what it means.
It means that you can break the rules if you choose to. And by making such a choice you accept the consequences that follow.
This is the first time I have read one of Simon Wilson's writings since I stopped being a judge for the Voyager Awards some years ago. I stopped because, aside from a few notable exceptions, most of the entries were woeful, and this column is an example of those.
I actually enjoy reading opinion pieces which are contrary to my philosophy or politics so long as a) they are well written and b) they are evidence based. Chris Trotter does it well, but Trotter is an exceptionally good writer; one of New Zealand's best. Trotter is very intelligent. Wilson is not intelligent, unfortunately, and that is why his columns fail. He just can't grasp the issue. He lacks the curiosity to put aside his own prejudice and go into the back of the cave in search of the smell, when everyone else is running out (as Warwick Roger used to say).
More sinister in this particular column, however, is that his attitude has plummeted dangerously close to being patronising. Does he really think Māori, in particular Te Pāti Māori, are so weak and helpless they need merciful treatment from New Zealand's paramount court? The court they campaigned to be members of, participate in, belong to, and, when sworn in, agreed to comply with the rules of?
Is he now advocating that having breached that oath, and not just broken those rules but subsequently defied requests to explain those actions, these members of Te Pāti Māori should be treated differently from members of any other party who may in future do same?
There is a word for that offensive and brutal form of political system. a system which caused many in this country to march in protests objecting to its manifestation in another country, a country that was booted out of the Commonwealth for not abiding by rules.
I am pleased you unpicked his column, David, and even more pleased you alerted him on X. I hope you update those of us who are not on X to his reaction, if he's man enough to reply to you.
But in fact, he is capable of good writing. Once, I think it was in Kia Ora magazine, I read an article about Marfa, Texas, which was so good I flipped back to the by-line and Good God it was Simon Wilson. I even dropped him a line of congratulations, and booked a ticket to fly to Houston, El Paso, then drove to Marfa. That's the only good writing I've ever read of his.
This discussion raises in my mind the confabulation of opinion and reportage of News. I accept a journalist is free in an opinion piece to comment and give an opinion.
I do not need to read that, but I do wish to read about the News , free of the journalist's opinion and commentary. I do not accept that a journalist is tasked with holding the relevant organisation or Government to account, when acting as a reporter. I am old fashioned, I demand fairness, independence and truthfulness from a reporter. Not much to ask?
Tom from Wanaka