The Colonial Machine

In this project, we define "Babylon" not as a place on a map, but as a colonial and neoliberal operating system. It is a system built on the "Newtonian Error", the false belief that the world is a collection of separate, mechanical parts that must be standardised to be useful. For the neurodivergent mind, which thrives on variable rhythms and deep, non-linear connections, this machine has been fundamentally hostile for over a century.

Silencing the Seers

The historical evidence of this hostility is stark. The Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907 was not just about stopping "quackery"; it was a targeted strike against the neurodivergent leadership of the Māori world. By outlawing the practices of Tohunga, specifically the matakite (seers) and traditional healers, the Crown effectively criminalised the "visionary phenotype". What our ancestors recognised as a high-fidelity spiritual gift, the colonial state re-labelled as "insanity".

Standardising the Soul

This suppression was part of a wider effort to "standardise" the population for the industrial machine. The Mental Defectives Act 1911 introduced eugenic categories to Aotearoa, seeking to breed out "defective" traits. We argue that many of those labeled as "defectives" were simply neurodivergent individuals whose "Universal Constructor" capabilities were unrecognised by the colonial gaze. The system needed predictable factory workers, not visionary "Systemisers" or "Navigators" who challenged the status quo.

In the misty, rugged heart of the Urewera, there is a story of hope and heartache that every one of us should hold close. It’s the story of Rua Kēnana Hepetipa and the community he built at Maungapōhatu. Following the guidance of the Spirit and the prophecies of Te Kooti, Rua led his people—the Iharaira—away from the distractions of the world to build a "City of God" right on the slopes of the sacred mountain.

For Rua, this wasn’t just about religion; it was about protecting the mana of his people⁴. He saw how the system was designed to keep Māori as "static subjects"—labourers on their own land—and he decided to flip the script. He envisioned a place where faith and work were one, where the community looked after its own, and where the future was decided by the people, not a distant bureaucracy.