The Status Quo in Justice
“Reasonable people adapt themselves to the world. Unreasonable people attempt to adapt the world to themselves. All progress, therefore, depends on unreasonable people.”
The ability to challenge the status quo is essential in any functioning democracy. It keeps power accountable, makes change possible, and allows injustice to be confronted. In the justice system especially, challenging the status quo means asking whether current processes still serve the public good or merely protect those in power.
I, like most authors, choose my words carefully. This particular injustice occurred in the justice sector. The irony is not lost on me.
What is Restorative Justice (RJ)?
Just in case you aren’t aware - restorative justice in New Zealand is a process that brings together the victim, the offender, and sometimes the community to talk about the harm caused by a crime and how it can be put right. It focuses on accountability, healing, and making amends, rather than just punishment. Often used in the justice system alongside or instead of court sentencing, it reflects Māori values like whanaungatanga (relationships).
What happened?
In May 2024, I began working as an independent restorative justice facilitator for a registered RJ provider. Since then, I’ve co-facilitated over 60 pre-conferences and 14 full conferences, most involving complex family violence cases.
I enjoyed the work and believed in RJ’s transformative potential. I was on track to become an accredited facilitator.
As I became more familiar with the sector, I grew concerned about inconsistent and inequitable treatment of facilitators across the country, particularly around pay and contract terms. These concerns intensified in December 2024 when the provider unilaterally changed all facilitator contracts. The changes reduced rates and limited our ability to claim legitimate expenses. For emotionally demanding, nuanced work, the pay now resembled that of a semi-volunteer workforce.
In response, a group of facilitators formed to challenge the changes. We wrote to the board requesting they reconsider. Their reply was dismissive and mistakenly addressed to me as the group’s spokesperson. They reaffirmed their position with one minor amendment and stated the board’s financial position was “not of your concern.”
I had already checked the board’s financial position as all registered not-for-profits financial statements are publicly available. I had already checked their finances. As a registered not-for-profit, their financial statements are publicly available. As at 1 June 2024, they held over $640,000 across various bank accounts - well above their annual contract value with the Ministry of Justice (MoJ). I’ve since been told the board's rationale was to build a buffer in case the MoJ cancelled the contract. Considering 99 percent of referrals come from the MoJ, what RJ work they expected to do without that contract remains unclear.
The group then sent a second letter proposing independent mediation. This, too, was rejected. Worth noting: the organisation exists solely to deliver restorative justice by bringing people together to repair relationships.
Still committed to getting answers, I submitted an Official Information Act (OIA) request to the Ministry of Justice using a character’s name as a pseudonym. I wanted clarity on RJ contracting and funding. My suspicion was that funds intended for facilitators were being redirected, perhaps to give a board with limited RJ knowledge something to manage. I also contacted another provider to understand why funding varied so drastically.
All the information I gathered came from legitimate channels open to any New Zealand citizen. The only thing I did was share it with colleagues. Also worth noting: I’ve never received a single complaint - none from colleagues, management, the board, victims, offenders, or support people.
Then came the next board meeting. Without warning or explanation, my contract was terminated. I received no prior notice, no invitation to attend, and certainly no mention of performance-related issues that may warrant this action. My colleagues’ contracts remained in place and they were not happy. They still aren’t happy but the board has its head firmly in the sand or an equally dark place I’ll leave to your imagination.
The only conclusion I can draw is that I was dismissed for my lawful actions as a private citizen, particularly my efforts to raise concerns and seek transparency. The fact this happened within a Ministry of Justice-funded programme is deeply concerning.
If the board assumed that ending my contract would end the matter, they clearly didn’t take the time to get to know me.
What is happening now
I won’t/can’t go into detail without tipping my hand. Let’s just say a lot. But if anyone knows a retired lawyer with a special interest in administrative law or constitutional law who loves to fight the system and is keen to do some pro bono work - send them my way. 😎
I’ll leave it for now with an adapted quote from Pulp Fiction - I'm gonna get medieval on their ass.
Stay tuned!
