“Honoured and esteemed Sir, may the Lord protect and preserve your eminence, we humbly ….” etc.
There was a time when even academic treatises would start in such terms. Why? Because the authors knew their endeavours had no hope of acceptance unless received and sponsored by someone of power and influence. A time when a recipient would first look to the authors’ names and positions before even considering looking into the content. And if those authors were not similarly endowed, the chance that some eminence might even read, far less consider the contents, was also doubtful.
This was when medical ‘knowledge’ was believed to be perfectly embodied in the works of Galen, millennia dead.
Then came the Enlightenment and the rise of the modern world, with all its material and intellectual riches. One single, non-fungible asset underpinned everything that followed: the idea of the supremacy of merit over social position, leading rapidly (on the historical timescale) to the day when a lowly Jewish patent office clerk would upend our understanding of the universe.
The primacy of merit is the most precious asset we have. It is sublimely simple: the sense to ask ‘What?’ instead of ‘Who?’ It has delivered us such riches that we now believe ourselves so secure in our prosperity that we can pat it on the back, say ‘Well done, and goodbye.’ Now we return to the mediaeval notion that people and their ideas (or lack of them) can be advanced or held back because of who they are, not what their abilities may be. We are, quite simply, reverting to the mediaeval state. Once, what mattered was to be a landed noble, a king’s bastard, or a bishop’s. Now, the sinecures and leaderships go to those who meet the right metrics of equality, diversity and inclusion. Don’t believe me? Stroll along Molesworth St in Wellington at lunchtime and mingle with those who guide our future; hang around the lobby of a university or two, or perhaps the spacious halls of the TVNZ building on Hobson St in Auckland. Look at who, ever-increasingly, holds the power in New Zealand. Sorry – Aotearoa. We now live in a funding environment when the first criterion many applications must meet is that they will somehow benefit Maori. Nor is this some covert agenda. It is often declared in the funding guide. Conducting research into some aspect of medical biology? Better get at least one EDI-friendly face on the team if you want your research funded. I’m not making this up.
Pale, stale and male? Begone. We don’t care what you may have to offer, don’t care that you have the talent and training to stand pre-eminent in your field. We now believe our society to be so wealthy that we can afford to place lesser but more worthy, more diverse and supposedly less privileged candidates in the vanguard of society, let such deserving souls determine our future together.
How is this working out? Plagued by low productivity, NZ’s economy remains one of the developed world’s worst performers. Next door, Australia has resisted the fad for the return to mediaevalism and not only remains well ahead of us on virtually every performance metric, it is hoovering out our unwanted talent at a rate that should be, but is not, a national scandal. Of course many who flee across the Tasman will say it is for the money, the sunshine. But if you get them alone and ask for the truth, I guarantee many will tell you that it is also because they are sick of seeing the opportunities going to those who are the right gender, sexual orientation or, God help us, ancestry, just like in the Middle Ages. To the more ‘diverse’ cohort. They know they won’t be battling that over there.
And so back we go, to conditions where an ever-shrinking pie is divided up ever less fairly to favour the whos over the whats.
Time to buy an ox, perhaps.
Or to stop the rot.
Play With Strangers 