Steve Baron: Should New Zealand Retain Maori Wards?

Last week, a mate sent me an email with a simple question: “Should we retain Māori wards?” It got me thinking about the upcoming referendums across the country. What strikes me about this debate isn’t the positions people are taking—it’s how little genuine understanding there seems to be about what we’re actually debating here.

This isn’t just another political football to kick around. It’s a fundamental question about how we design democracy in a bicultural nation. And frankly, most of the arguments I’m hearing from both camps are missing the point entirely.

Let me be clear from the start: I’ve spent decades studying democratic systems and have experience in business where understanding your stakeholders matters. So when I look at Māori wards, I’m not seeing this through the lens of guilt or grievance—I’m seeing it through the lens of what actually works.

The Real Question We Should Be Asking

Here’s what frustrates me about this debate: we’re arguing about the wrong thing. The question isn’t whether Māori deserve special representation—it’s whether our current democratic structures adequately represent all communities’ interests in local government.

Think about it this way. In my business experience, if a significant portion of your stakeholders consistently felt unheard and disengaged from your decision-making processes, you wouldn’t debate whether they deserved a voice. You’d figure out how to give them one, because ignoring substantial portions of your stakeholders is just bad practice.

Yet that’s essentially what we’ve been doing in local government for decades. Māori representation on councils, even where they make up significant portions of the population, has historically been problematic. This isn’t just unfair; it’s an inefficient democracy.

Learning from History—And Other Countries

The opponents of Māori wards often invoke the principle of “one person, one vote” as if it’s some sacred democratic commandment. But this reveals a surprisingly shallow understanding of democratic theory and practice.

Most successful democracies have recognised that pure majoritarian systems can systematically exclude minority voices. The Swiss have built-in protections for linguistic minorities that I’ve long admired. Germany’s federal system ensures smaller länder aren’t simply overwhelmed by larger ones. Even our own MMP system acknowledges that pure proportional representation might not capture all legitimate interests.

The irony is that those crying “reverse racism” at Māori wards are often the same people who celebrate our MMP system, which deliberately over-represents rural constituencies and smaller parties to ensure diverse voices in Parliament.

The Practical Reality

But let’s move beyond theory to practical reality. I’ve observed councils both with and without Māori wards, and the difference is tangible. It’s not just about having Māori faces around the table—though representation matters. It’s about the quality of decision-making.

Take environmental issues, for instance. Māori ward councillors consistently bring a longer-term perspective to resource management decisions. This isn’t mystical—it’s cultural. When your worldview emphasises intergenerational responsibility, you naturally ask different questions about development proposals and infrastructure investments.

I’ve seen this play out in debates about water management, coastal development, and urban planning. The councils with meaningful Māori input—whether through wards or other mechanisms—simply make better decisions for the long term. They consider impacts and implications that purely short-term political thinking misses.

Addressing the Genuine Concerns

Now, I understand the concerns many have about Māori wards. The worry about creating “separate systems” is genuine, even if I think it’s misguided. But let’s address it directly.

Māori wards don’t create separate governance—they create more inclusive governance. The councillors elected from these wards vote on exactly the same issues as everyone else. They’re bound by the same laws, the same budgets, the same accountability measures. The only difference is that they’ve been elected by communities that have often felt disconnected from local democracy.

Some argue this undermines the principle of geographical representation. But this assumes our current ward boundaries are somehow natural or optimal. They’re not. They’re administrative conveniences that often split communities and dilute voices. If anything, Māori wards are more democratic because they’re based on actual community identity rather than arbitrary lines drawn by bureaucrats.

The Democratic Deficit

Here’s what really concerns me: we have a democratic deficit in local government, and we’re arguing about one of the few mechanisms that might address it. Voter turnout in local elections is abysmal. Community engagement is weak. Too many decisions get made by small groups of usual suspects who turn up to meetings.

Māori wards, done properly, could help reverse this trend. They create new pathways for political engagement. They encourage broader participation. They bring different perspectives and priorities into local decision-making.

The alternative—maintaining the status quo—means continuing with a system that demonstrably fails to engage significant portions of our communities. That’s not principled democracy; it’s lazy democracy.

A Challenge for Both Sides

But I have a challenge for both sides of this debate. For Māori ward advocates: don’t just argue for representation—show how it improves outcomes for everyone. Make the case that inclusive governance is better governance, not just fairer governance.

For the opponents: stop hiding behind false principles and engage with the real question. If you genuinely believe in democratic participation, propose better alternatives for ensuring all communities have a genuine voice and influence in local government.

Because here’s the truth, neither side wants to admit: Māori wards are a second-best solution to a problem we should have solved decades ago. The first-best solution would be a local government system so engaging, so responsive, so effective that all communities naturally wanted to participate. We don’t have that system.

So the question isn’t whether Māori wards are perfect. It’s whether they’re better than what we have now. And on that question, the evidence is clear: yes, they are.

The real test of any democratic innovation isn’t whether it fits our theoretical preferences—it’s whether it produces better decisions for better communities. Māori wards pass that test. The question is whether we’re mature enough as a democracy to recognise it.

Steve Baron is a New Zealand-based political commentator and author. He holds a BA with a double major in Economics and Political Science from the University of Waikato and an Honours Degree in Political Science from Victoria University of Wellington. A former businessman in the advertising industry, he founded the political lobby group Better Democracy NZ. https://stevebaron.co.nz