Anti-corporate protesters, NCEA and Rena

Anti-corporate protesters should examine their consciences first.

Protests might not be the most effective way of getting an anti-capitalist message across. When iPads came on the market I was all set to buy one when I happened to read an item about Apple’s quarterly profit announcement and it made me feel ill. I baulked. I could no longer bring myself to hand over my money to a company that had so much already.

Among my media-junkie friends and colleagues who read newspapers and magazines on their iPads, I am now the odd one out for not having one. Even though I think they are a wonderful piece of kit, not having one gives me an odd pleasure, much like not being on Facebook.

That’s why I think the anti-capitalism protesters might have it the wrong way around. We, the little guys, are not the victims of global corporates, we’re the creators of them because we want the products they sell. Which is fine, but it’s a bit schizophrenic, then, to complain that they exist.

It’s like saying (which we also do) the banks are bastards because they lent us all that money when we asked them for it. Well, hello? If you don’t like them, don’t be one of their customers or investors. Consumers have choices. It’s not corporates with the power, it’s us, and even thinking that way is itself empowering.

In about three weeks, my son will be sitting NCEA Level One exams, not that anyone would guess that from his preoccupation with endlessly playing Grand Theft Auto on his laptop.

Such a shame that car conversion, murder and grievous bodily harm are not NCEA subjects, and that maths, science and accounting are. His exam preparation gives me con­fidence that, if asked, he will be able to write an essay with deep analysis of the street layout of San Andreas, including the best vantage points from which to shoot someone, but I’m not quite so confident about his fluency on The Merchant of Venice.

Occasionally, I suggest in a boring-mother kind of way that there may, perhaps, be other ways to prepare for exams, such as the three-step method of finding a textbook, opening it and reading it. This invariably attracts either the short or long version (depending on how close the cops are behind him) of his well-rehearsed reply about the role of relaxation in studying for exams. In terms of his prioritising, relaxation is at the top of the scale, and learning anything that might help him answer a single exam question is yet to feature.

The structure of NCEA contributes to his attitude, because he is mildly irritated that he has to turn up to the exams at all. Many of his friends have already passed Level One on their year’s work to date, and he will fall short by fewer credits than can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Chances are, if he made a reasonable fist of the maths exam, but passed time in English, science and accounting by shooting out virtual car windows at pursuing police officers, he would still gain the qualification.
There is much to commend NCEA, and I think the PAYE system of gathering credits during the academic year instead of leaving it all up to end-of-year exams seems fairer and also likelier to encourage kids to remain engaged. But it also leaves open a great potential for disengagement at exam time for those kids who have amassed sufficient credits so can’t see the point in bothering any more. And why would they? Especially if someone was shooting at them.

It is incredible to think the Labour Department issues occupational safety and health advice on how to work safely on your PC at home, yet people can work in the broken engine room of a dying ship that at any minute could break in two and sink. There’s not much to be grateful for in this awful Rena episode, but for those salvors’ professionalism and sheer courage, we should either make them a medal, or at least buy them a beer – preferably paid for by the Rena’s operators.