There is a specific kōrero from T.W. Ratana that has been weighing heavy on my heart lately. It’s a prophecy that sounds simple on the surface, but when you look closer, it’s a forensic warning about the survival of our iwi. Ratana warned his people against bartering away their future for things that don’t last. He spoke of a time when the land—our very life force—would be traded for "flour, sugar, potatoes," or in other versions, "flour, sugar, tea, and tobacco".

This wasn't just about what was in the pantry; it was about the "Leaky Bucket" economy we’ve been trapped in for too long. Ratana saw a future where we would give up our means of production (the land) for cheap, consumable goods that leave us empty in the end. It’s a warning about trading our long-term sovereignty for short-term "benefits" that ultimately keep us dependent.

Here is a whakaaro that has been sitting on my heart lately, especially as we look at the challenges facing our beautiful Northland. This wisdom came from my pōtiki who was 11 at the time. It’s a simple rule of thumb for life, a hierarchy of needs that we often get twisted: 1. Be safe. 2. Have fun. 3. Do what you’re here to do. In that precise order. The wero (challenge) we face in our modern world, particularly under the pressure of what we might call the "Babylonian" operating system, is that we frequently swap numbers two and three. We put the "grind" before the joy, and in doing so, we damage the very spirit—the wairua—that fuels our purpose.

The first step is non-negotiable: Be safe. In our research, we talk about the "Economic Pā". Historically, the Pā was a place of defence and storage, ensuring the survival of the hapū. You cannot thrive if you are constantly in a state of survival mode or high entropy (disorder). We need "Ontological Security"—a safety of mind, body, and spirit. Whether it is financial security through institutions like Te Au Rawa Mutual or simply the safety of a warm, dry home, this foundation allows us to lower our guard and breathe. Without safety, the "wave function" of our potential cannot collapse into a reality of abundance.

Three Threads, One Kākahu: The Harmony Of Physics, Faith, And Whakapapa

I’ve spent a lot of time on the porches of Taitokerau, listening to the old people talk about the "good old days" while watching the logging trucks carry our whenua away. It’s a heavy sight. You see those logs—61% of our timber exported raw—and you’re watching the sunlight, the rain, and the very nutrients of our soil leave the harbor. It’s what we call the "Leaky Bucket" economy. It often feels like we are caught between three different worlds that don't speak the same language: the Whare Wānanga, the science lab, and the Bible. But here in the North, we are realising they aren't competing; they are three threads of the same Kākahu.

We are currently drowning in data but starving for wisdom. If you walk into any boardroom in Whangarei or sit in a council meeting in Kaikohe, the air is thick with spreadsheets, GDP forecasts, and ROI percentages. We’ve become experts at measuring the "price" of everything while remaining completely blind to the "value" of anything.

The old Babylonian operating system has convinced us that if the line on the graph goes up, we are winning. But look out the window. If that profit comes at the cost of a silt-choked awa, if it’s built on the backs of whānau who can’t afford to live in the towns they were born in, then that "growth" is just a polite word for entropy. In the physics of the Woven Universe, we are exporting order and importing chaos. We are measuring the speed of the car while the engine is melting.