We are living in times of unprecedented uncertainty, polarisation, and rapid change.
The complexity of modern life can feel overwhelming, and in such moments, it is natural for us as humans to seek reassurance and direction from strong voices and clear narratives. However, history has repeatedly shown us the dangers of blind allegiance – of following without question.
Humans are inherently social beings, wired for connection and belonging. Psychologically, we gravitate toward certainty and clear leadership, especially when faced with fear, uncertainty, or perceived threat. It’s comforting to place our trust in individuals or groups that offer simple solutions, clear enemies, or reassuring promises, even if those promises aren’t realistic or based in fact.
Yet, history urges caution. From the rise of authoritarian regimes in the 20th century to recent global political shifts, we have witnessed how powerful leaders and populist movements thrive in environments of economic stress, social upheaval, and cultural anxiety. Leaders who offer black-and-white solutions to nuanced, complex issues often tap into deeply emotional drivers – fear, anger, nostalgia, or hope – leveraging these emotions to build unwavering loyalty.
Our digital age further amplifies these tendencies. Social media, news algorithms, and targeted content create echo chambers, reinforcing existing biases and limiting exposure to diverse or challenging viewpoints. This can lead to an insulated, binary worldview – us versus them, right versus wrong – undermining our capacity for critical thought, nuance, and balanced judgment.
In my own experiences, I have faced situations that demanded clarity of purpose rather than blind obedience. On one deployment, we were asked to follow orders that did not align with the realities our communities were facing. Instead of blindly following, I re-assessed our ultimate purpose and chose to question authority. Doing so enabled us to get aid where it was genuinely needed.
Similarly, within the workings of our marae, questioning long-established leadership is difficult. Kaumātua (elders) who have dedicated their lives to serving whānau (we don’t live in 3 year cycles) often command respect that makes dissent challenging. My aunty once told me, “Girl, if your hands aren’t red, you aren’t doing anything.” After having been wrapped over the knuckles a few times now, yet still witnessing the positive results of stepping out and ‘doing’ – her wisdom taught me the importance of courageously standing up, respectfully asking ‘why,’ and ensuring alignment with tikanga (protocols) and personal values.
Even within my own family, challenging long-held faith-based whakaaro (thinking) has been incredibly tough. My mother and I have had numerous disagreements over fundamental issues. It would be easier to nod, agree, and avoid hard conversations. However, establishing where we stand clearly has helped us define healthy boundaries, ensuring mutual respect even in disagreement.
These real-life examples underline the importance of being genuinely aware of our values and purpose. Being truly awake to systemic inequalities, misinformation, and societal complexities is not – and should never be – partisan or divisive. While the term ‘woke’ has become politicised and distorted, its original meaning simply called for genuine awareness of social injustices and inequalities. Being aware, data-driven, and empathetic is not inherently political. These qualities should be foundational tools in everyone’s decision-making process, irrespective of political identity.
Unfortunately, this politicisation has pushed moderate, balanced voices to the sidelines, falsely framing the pursuit of awareness and fairness as extreme or contentious. However, most people are more balanced, nuanced, and compassionate than polarising narratives would suggest. This quiet majority often seeks understanding, thoughtful debate, and informed decisions rather than blind adherence to simplistic narratives.
So how can we protect ourselves and our communities from blindly following dangerous paths?
Firstly, we can empower ourselves through data and media literacy, learning to critically evaluate the sources and quality of information we consume. Secondly, embracing critical thinking helps us question narratives, examine biases – including our own – and recognise complexities rather than accepting simplified explanations. Thirdly, engaging in open, empathetic dialogue, particularly with those holding differing perspectives, strengthens our understanding and reduces blind tribal allegiance. Lastly, cultivating compassionate curiosity – approaching opposing viewpoints with genuine interest and empathy rather than defensiveness – builds resilience against manipulation and divisiveness.
As we navigate this challenging era together, let us remember that each of us has the capacity to think independently and compassionately. We have historically faced – and overcome – significant crises by prioritising openness, awareness, and balanced action. By doing so again, we can collectively steer our shared waka away from division and conflict and towards a thriving, inclusive future for everyone.