“Werohia te rua, kia puta mai ai te tuna.”
Reach into uncertainty so that opportunities may emerge. – Te Pūoro Kātene
I didn’t expect leadership to teach me about mortality, but that’s exactly what it did.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How facing our limits can sharpen the senses and force us to look closely at the spaces we occupy. A health crisis has a way of stripping things back. And in the quiet, I learned something I hadn’t anticipated – vulnerability does not equate to disposability.
I’ve sat at governance tables across Aotearoa, in rooms where decisions are made about technology, economic development, water, education, cyber security, and emergency management. I have worked for years to take up these seats – not just for myself but to crack the doors open wider for those who will come next. But the most valuable lesson I’ve learned about leadership wasn’t found in board papers or strategy sessions.
It came in stillness.
I realised that our time in these spaces is fleeting. And once I understood that, my priorities shifted. I no longer see leadership as a role to protect – it’s something to pass on. If not to me, then to the next one standing close by, ready to step up. This is why I invest time in our rangatahi, our youth. They pick things up fast and have the energy to drive change.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing succession as a long-term goal. Now, it’s an immediate necessity.
We cannot afford to wait.
The Fragility of Leadership
It’s tempting to lead cautiously – to make decisions that rock the boat just enough to show progress but not enough to threaten the system that keeps you afloat. But what I see, here and globally, is a world that no longer tolerates hesitation.
Communities are asking for more. Aotearoa is no exception.
In 2024, public trust in governance continued to decline as frustration grew around issues that seem to deepen, not resolve – housing shortages, wealth inequality, climate uncertainty. Incremental solutions are no longer enough.
As Moana Jackson once said, “Incrementalism is stasis.”
We often view leadership as the ability to hold steady under pressure. But I no longer believe that to be true. Leadership is movement. It’s the willingness to step forward even when the next foothold isn’t clear.
Inaction has a cost. And history shows us that the longer we wait, the more fractured our society becomes.
The wealthiest 1% now hold two-thirds of all new wealth created since 2020. (Oxfam, 2023)
By 2050, 216 million people are expected to be displaced by climate change. (UN, 2023)
Democracy is in decline across more than 70% of countries worldwide. (Freedom House, 2023)
The cracks are visible. And while global conflict feels distant to some, we know that social unrest begins quietly. It starts in the moments where inequality is left to widen and decisions are made without collective input.
But where do we find that leadership when existing structures struggle to respond?
Often, it grows in places we least expect.
Where Leadership Grows
“Whakaranuhia ngā pūkenga tawhito me ngā huarahi hou me te mahi.”
Blend old skills with new ways of doing things. – Kyle Pol
I’ve learned to look for leadership outside of the usual places.
It isn’t confined to Parliament, corporate offices, or the big tables in Wellington. It exists in grassroots movements, on marae, in schools, and community boards. I see it in our rangatahi pushing for digital equity and the hapū leading environmental restoration.
Indigenous leadership frameworks, grounded in kaitiakitanga and manaakitanga, continue to shape how our country navigates collective challenges. This is not new. It’s a legacy carried by generations before us.
The leadership we need has always existed. But it doesn’t always look like the leadership we’re used to seeing.
Rangatahi aren’t just the leaders of tomorrow – they are the leaders of today, if we let them take the mic.
Centralised systems have their place, but they rarely produce the most enduring solutions. Lasting change happens when decisions are made closer to the people they affect.
This isn’t about dismantling governance – it’s about expanding it. It’s about recognising that localised, community-driven leadership holds equal weight and deserves equal space.
The Role of Technology
The future will be shaped by technology, but it will not save us.
By 2025, AI and automation are predicted to displace 85 million jobs while creating nearly 100 million new ones. (World Economic Forum, 2023) Yet the tools that promise innovation also risk leaving millions behind.
Without reskilling and equitable access, technology becomes a divider, not a bridge.
A Brookings Institution report warns that technological inequality will only deepen social divides without targeted intervention. (Brookings, 2023)
The Māori Anamata o Matihiko Hangarau (Māori Futures in Digital Technology) 2024 report by Te Ao Matihiko, Te Hapori Matihiko, Te Matarau (Māori in DigiTech Aotearoa) speaks directly to this point: “We determine our future, that’s the way it should be.” I believe them. Our rangatahi are more than ready to lead, but we must lay the groundwork.
Aotearoa’s Opportunity
“Take care of our children. Take care of what they feel. For how the children grow, so will be the shape of Aotearoa.” – Dame Whina Cooper
Aotearoa holds the blueprint. Our governance, rooted in Te Tiriti o Waitangi, reflects values of reciprocity, guardianship, and care.
We are imperfect, but the foundation is there. By embedding kaitiakitanga into governance and economic policies, we model leadership that extends beyond election cycles – leadership that considers the next generation in every decision we make today.
Leading Change Today
Mā te kotahitanga e whai kaha ai tātou.
In unity, we find strength.
Leadership in 2025 cannot afford to drift. This is a time for conviction. For speaking up when it’s easier to stay quiet. For stepping aside and lifting others in our place.
The legacy we leave will be built from the conversations we have today, the risks we take, and the boldness of our conviction.
Kia māia, mō rātou.
Be bold, For them.