New Zealand’s flag change, United Nations and Bomber

There’s no need for a time-consuming act of pennants.

From the appearance of New Zealanders’ homes and ­vehicles these past few weeks, it seems the public has bypassed the difficulties that would come with a divisive referendum about whether to change the flag, and gone and done it anyway. From flagpoles, cars, bedroom windows and shopfronts, and on scarves, badges and ­children’s cheeks, the flag that All Blacks’ supporters have been displaying is almost without exception the silver fern on a black background. Ireland has an official rugby flag, different from its national flag because players from Northern Ireland are eligible to play for the republic, but for every other participating Rugby World Cup country, with the exception of New Zealand (and those dressed as daffodils or roosters), fans have displayed their national flags. All Blacks’ supporters chose the silver fern. Any visitor who came here during the World Cup probably now thinks the silver fern is our flag and perhaps, by popular demand, they are right. One of the reasons people have displayed it is because it has been available to buy, but even that tells you something.

Interestingly, the move to sing a verse of the national anthem in Maori was an organic development and not because of any change of law or regulation. Even now the Ministry for Culture and Heritage’s website says, under the heading of protocols for the national anthem, “There are no guidelines for performing God Defend New Zealand in both English and Maori, and you can choose which order to sing the versions in.” It seems a few people simply started doing it, and it caught on. The same seems to be happening with the flag. There have been members of successive governments who have wanted to change the flag but have realised it is not worth wasting their political capital on. From the look of the country these past few weeks, it would be even less worthwhile for politicians to bother now, because the change may have happened without them.

The United Nations, which can always be relied on in a crisis never to lose sight of political correctness, last week issued a press release saying that young people from 22 countries had gathered at the UN “to shine a light on the impact that the global economic crisis is having on youth around the world”. The most memorable lines were about the Swedish delegate Marlin Johannson, “who early today led a side event on the topic of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer youth in Sweden”. You can bet the rights of Stockholm trannies are a big talking point among the starving Sudanese in refugee camps in Ethiopia this week.

Mostly, it seems, the youth delegates to the UN want to be included in decision-making in their own countries and at the UN itself. But what exactly is it that 16- or 17-year-olds think they have that is unique to offer a parliament? Everyone who has made it to 18 has been 16 or 17 first because there’s no other way to grow up, much as the teenagers themselves, and their parents even more so, would like them to skip those years. Also, they need not worry that their exclusion from the political process is permanent. Their youthfulness isn’t, either.

The couple of times I was on the panel on Radio New Zealand’s Afternoons with Jim Mora, when Bomber Bradbury was on too, were relaxing. As the fellow panellist with ­Bradbury, I not only was under no obligation to contribute, but usually had no opportunity, since no one else could get a word in. Because I was in the ­Wellington studio and he was in Auckland, I found it made for a restful hour so long as I took the headphones off and didn’t listen to him. However, it’s a forum for ideas, so his presence there was less troublesome than knowing he is employed as a “mentor and adviser to Wintec’s current crop of journalism and communication students”, according to Wintec itself. Does he give the lessons in objectivity, fairness and balance, I wonder, or does someone else do that?