Our (expanded) oral Submission to the Education and Workforce Select Committee on the Education and Training Amendment Bill (No 2)

(For logistical reasons, we were unable to present to the Committee, so we present our submission here - we have also sent it directly to the Committee and responsible Ministers.)

Tēnā koutou katoa,

I am Paul Thistoll, speaking on behalf of Rights Aotearoa, a human rights charity committed to equity and inclusion as well as the promotion and defence of universal human rights. We strongly oppose the academic freedom and institutional neutrality provisions in the Education and Training Amendment Bill (No. 2).

We oppose these provisions on principled grounds – with optimism that Parliament will uphold the real purpose of our universities: to serve as democratic institutions of knowledge and human flourishing, not as ideologically silent platforms for dangerous speech.

My submission will demonstrate that the Bill's concept of institutional neutrality is both incoherent and destructive, that academic freedom must include institutional freedom to foster inclusive environments, that the proposed reporting requirements weaponise "free expression" against equity, and that similar laws overseas have produced legal chaos and genuine harm. Throughout, my tone is confident but hopeful: we can defend free expression and human rights without this misguided Bill.

Refuting 'Institutional Neutrality' – A Dangerous Fiction

At the heart of our concern is the Bill's insistence on so-called institutional neutrality – the idea that universities must "not take positions" on issues outside their core functions. This notion may sound even-handed, but it is philosophically incoherent and functionally destructive.

Neutrality is not neutral at all – it is a political stance that consolidates the status quo. As one commentator on public institutions in Aotearoa noted, "neutrality privileges those whose worldviews align with dominant norms." Demanding neutrality means silence in the face of injustice, which invariably protects existing power structures. We echo Desmond Tutu: "If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor."

Universities must be free to take principled stances rooted in evidence and their core values. When climate scientists establish that climate change threatens us all, should the university be gagged from advocating sustainability because climate policy is "not its core function"? When faced with racism or public health misinformation, a university should be able to say: "These claims are false. They cause harm. We stand for facts and dignity." Such stands directly support the university's mission of advancing knowledge in a safe environment.

Crucially, in New Zealand, universities are bound by Te Tiriti o Waitangi – to give effect to Māori rights and work in partnership. Neutrality has too often been an excuse to evade Treaty obligations, masking colonial power behind a façade of "impartiality." We cannot allow a hollow neutrality to undermine obligations to tangata whenua or, indeed, any marginalised group.

Institutional neutrality is a fiction that would strip our universities of moral courage while entrenching the biases of the powerful. It deserves emphatic rejection.

Academic Freedom Includes Inclusive Environments

Academic freedom is not only an individual right of scholars, but also a right and duty of institutions to shape their academic environment consistent with human dignity. Academic freedom flourishes not in a hostile free-for-all, but where ideas are tested rigorously and learners from all backgrounds feel safe to participate.

This Bill misconstrues academic freedom as an absolutist licence for anyone to say anything, anywhere, without consequence. That is a distortion. New Zealand law already protects academic freedom and recognises reasonable limits. The New Zealand Bill of Rights Act protects freedom of expression but expressly allows "reasonable limits" as justified in a free and democratic society. Our Human Rights Act and Harassment Act place limits on hateful, harmful speech.

International human rights law underscores this. Article 20(2) of the ICCPR requires that "advocacy of racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence shall be prohibited by law." Article 4 of CERD obliges states to condemn and prohibit racist propaganda. New Zealand is bound by these obligations. Our universities should be partners in upholding them.

Nothing in academic freedom forces an institution to provide a megaphone to hate. Academic freedom gives scholars and leaders the space to set standards – to say, "We will debate immigration policy or gender diversity, yes – but we will not legitimate speakers whose only aim is to vilify ethnic groups, deny the humanity of our rainbow community, or glorify violence." That is responsible stewardship, not censorship.

The New Zealand Law Society noted we already have robust protections for free expression – there is "no compelling case" for these new requirements. Do we really want our campuses compelled by law to host Holocaust deniers or white supremacists if a single student club invites them? As one academic memorably put it: we do not need to host those who call for journalists to be beheaded in the name of "balance."

An inclusive learning environment is a precondition for academic freedom by all. If women, LGBTQ+ people, or minorities are constantly subjected to demeaning attacks under misguided "free speech absolutism," their own voices are silenced. We must balance rights and responsibilities.

To be clear, universities should be home to uncomfortable ideas and robust argument. But there's a world of difference between challenging ideas with evidence versus enabling ideologically violent rhetoric. The former is what universities thrive on; the latter is what this Bill would protect.

As Victoria University's Vice-Chancellor observed, there is an "inherent irony – some would say hypocrisy – in legislating for free speech" on campus. Universities have maintained vibrant debate and inclusion for decades. The Bill's heavy-handed approach would upset this balance.

Weaponising Free Expression Through Bureaucracy

The Bill would require each university to draft government-specified "statements on freedom of expression" and establish elaborate complaint mechanisms with annual reporting. These requirements function as tools of coercion, weaponising "free expression" as a cudgel against institutional values, pressuring universities to prioritise appeasing self-described free speech absolutists at the expense of equity and wellbeing.

Why else mandate that universities publicly re-affirm "controversial opinions are welcome" and report complaint numbers? The subtext is clear: "If you get complaints from a hateful speaker who wasn't platformed, you'd better explain yourself." This is a one-way ratchet pushing institutions to err on the side of allowing harm.

As the Tertiary Education Union wryly noted, this creates bureaucratic red tape "all designed to ensure Don Brash can book a room on campus." The compliance regime – drafting statements to government specifications, logging complaints, explaining in annual reports – is state-imposed orthodoxy about what free speech means. It directly undermines university autonomy.

Professor Andrew Geddis warned that translating voluntary policies into legal mandates risks politicising campus speech even more. Any decision – say, moving an inflammatory event off-campus for safety – could be cast as "opposing free speech" and thus opposing government policy. Universities would constantly look over their shoulders at Ministerial expectations. This is deeply chilling.

Evidence from abroad shows these frameworks invite vexatious abuse. Universities New Zealand's Chris Whelan warned that in the UK, similar systems have been "weaponised" for political point-scoring. Imagine: white supremacist groups spamming complaints that their "viewpoint" isn't in the curriculum; creationists claiming "censorship" in biology classes. Every claim would need formal handling and feature in reports – wasting time and legitimising fringe grievances.

Meanwhile, the Bill does nothing about real threats to expression: underfunding, precarious staff who self-censor fearing job loss, or targeted harassment of academics speaking unpopular truths. Instead, it privileges manufactured controversies and forces universities to cater to them above all else.

Lessons from Abroad – A Cautionary Tale

New Zealand should heed cautionary tales from overseas. In the United States, efforts to micromanage campus speech have led to profound legal chaos. Florida's laws ostensibly protecting free expression simultaneously banned teaching "divisive concepts" around race and gender. The dystopian outcome: universities cancelled diversity trainings and removed statements denouncing racism. Black and LGBTQ+ students report feeling less safe. This is the perverse endgame of politicising "free speech": marginalised communities bear the harm, and truth-seeking is hamstrung by fear.

The UK's recent experience is equally instructive. After their new campus free speech law, the very first high-profile enforcement saw the University of Sussex hit with an unprecedented £585,000 fine – largely because their trans-inclusive equality policy allegedly had "a chilling effect" on free speech. Think about that: an inclusion policy protecting a marginalised group was deemed a thought crime. This is what happens when regulatory weapons are placed in the hands of those who see any equity initiative as suspect.

Even Australia chose more wisely. The French Review found no evidence of a systemic free speech crisis on Australian campuses. Instead of legislation, they adopted voluntary model codes balancing free speech with other duties, preserving institutional autonomy and inclusion. Universities Australia warned that legislating would be "solving a problem that has not been demonstrated to exist."

That is precisely our case. There is scant evidence of censorship crisis on New Zealand campuses. Our existing laws and policies are working. Why import an overseas culture war for no good reason? This Bill's provisions are a solution in search of a problem – and worse, they will create entirely new problems.

Conclusion: A Hopeful Vision

I urge the Committee to reject these provisions. They are ideologically driven, unnecessary, and dangerous to the values they claim to protect.

True academic freedom does not require institutions to neuter their conscience or abdicate their duty of care. True inclusivity does not silence debate – it enriches it by ensuring all can participate without fear. Our universities can continue being places of vigorous debate while standing up for human rights, truth, and aroha for their communities. These goals are mutually reinforcing.

A campus where Māori, Pasifika, LGBTQ+, disabled, Pākehā – all students – can learn in respectful environments is where greater diversity of ideas will be voiced, not fewer. A university that can say "we condemn racism" teaches by example that evidence and ethics matter. Far from indoctrinating anyone, that frees students to speak and learn without harassment.

We don't need a blunt law to ensure free speech; we need trust in our institutions and the robust frameworks already in place. I remain optimistic. I believe in the power of dialogue and reason – the very tools of academia – to bridge divides without forcing neutrality. I believe our universities are up to the task of fostering kōrero taunaki that expands minds and protects mana.

I urge you, as legislators, to trust in that vision. Do not shackle our institutions to a misguided regime that will erode their autonomy and moral leadership. Instead, let us continue encouraging universities to be tūrangawaewae – strong standing places – for democracy, knowledge and justice.

Nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tātou katoa.

I welcome your questions.

Paul Thistoll - Sloan MSc (LBS), BA(Hons)(First)