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This chapter looks at what it means to set out to do anthropological research with tangata whenua (New Zealanders of Māori descent; literally, ‘people of the land’), from the particular perspective of a Pākehā (New Zealander of non-Māori descent – usually European) musical anthropologist with an interest in sound-made worlds. In late 2017, Lowe was awarded funding for a conjoint PhD scholarship in anthropology at James Cook University, Australia, and Aarhus University, Denmark. However, following advice from several colleagues in Aotearoa New Zealand, Lowe decided to assess the viability of the project with his prospective Māori and non-Māori collaborators prior to officially starting his PhD candidature. Throughout this process of pre-ethics (Barrett, 2016), Lowe met with both Māori and non-Māori to discuss the proposed PhD project; a ‘listening in’ to his own socio-historical positioning as a Pākehā anthropologist within contemporary Aotearoa New Zealand. This approach to anthropological research is in response to George (2017), who argues for a new politically and ethnically aware mode of anthropology that aims to (re)establish relationships of true meaning between anthropology and Māori in Aotearoa New Zealand.

This chapter provides an overview of the volume, beginning with anecdotes from the editors. These anecdotes demonstrate the range of issues facing Indigenous scholars and researchers who choose to work with Indigenous participants and/or communities. Reference is made to Indigenous research sovereignty, honouring the immense work undertaken by previous Indigenous scholars, enabling many today to work effectively with their own people as well as other Indigenous groups. This is considered a courageous act, given the vulnerability this opens Indigenous peoples up to in terms of the change that is engendered and the criticism from external non-Indigenous researchers that has often arisen. The organisation of the volume into three parts is discussed, and this chapter ends with synopses of the following 16 chapters.

Who will lead Ambridge in the years to come? Theories rooted in psychology and political science, when applied to family dynamics in The Archers, allow for some educated guesses. Social learning theory suggests that children who see their parents vote, run for office and participate in other civic activities are more likely to do the same in adulthood. Emma Grundy did just that when she followed in the footsteps of her father, Neil Carter, in winning a seat on the parish council. Previous research has found that birth order also can shape future leaders, with the eldest child more likely to benefit developmentally from parents' undivided attention in the early years, and also more likely to establish a hierarchy of power over younger siblings. With these factors in mind, who are the most probable contenders to lead Ambridge in the spheres of politics, business and civic affairs? The extant research points to Pip Archer, Lily Pargetter, Phoebe Aldridge and George Grundy. The unique circumstances of Ruairi Donovan's childhood suggest he may also be a formidable candidate. And, as is the case in so many contexts, one would be wise not to overlook Molly Button.

Cuba has recently endured the impact of hurricanes Lili (1996), George (1998), Irene (1999), Michelle (2001), Isidore (2002), Lili (2002), Charlie and Ivan (2004). The provinces of Villa Clara, Matanzas and Pinar del Río have suffered the major damage, basically in coastal towns where thousands of houses have been destroyed, and families displaced from their homes.

Tackling this problem proves to be complicated. Decision-makers face two choices: (a) to concentrate the scarce resources - including post disaster aid - on emergency actions to reduce only the damages caused by the hurricane, or (b) to improve in a sustainable way existing houses through better and more efficient material supply. In both cases, the possibility of local production of building materials becomes a crucial factor.

The Centre for Investigation and Development of Structures and Materials (CIDEM) has been involved in disaster-response projects in the area since 1996. The thrust has been the manufacture of ecomaterials such as micro concrete roofing (MCR) tiles, pozzolanic cement CP-40 and hollow concrete blocks, which provide the means to build affordable and hurricane safe houses. These materials are produced on the basis of local raw materials and labour in small workshops based directly in the communities.

The widespread use of ecomaterials on the northern coast of Villa Clara province has been a key aspect in decreasing the vulnerability of the houses against hurricanes. The fact that these materials have withstood the impact of various hurricanes without significant damage has drawn the attention of local governments, communities and donors. The presentation of case studies in this paper will illustrate this experience.

The invitation to write this chapter offers both Wiremu T. Puke (tangata whenua – person with Māori descent) and Sebastian J. Lowe (Pākehā – New Zealander with European ancestry) the opportunity to reflect on their friendship and research partnership, which they refer to as a takarangi, or an interlocking spiral, as seen in traditional Māori carving practice. This motif denotes the origin of all things: thoughts, ideas, concepts and genealogies, which are interconnected through a rich tapestry of history and tradition through a process of ongoing evolution, Te Ao Hurihuri (the ever-changing world) and Te Ao Mārama (the world of light).

They recognise the spaces that separate the two coils of the outward-radiating and interlocking spiral as their shared space. This space symbolises the unknowns as they move from them to tangible forms, through the written word, oral traditions, such as whakatauākī (sayings/proverbs), or through the many Māori visual arts such as whakairo (carving), or in film. Written as a dialogue between Puke, a tohunga whakairo (master-carver) with strong genealogical connections and tribal affiliations, and Lowe (anthropologist and musician) in recognition of their research partnership, this chapter discusses how their own cultural upbringings, personal and shared experiences, have contributed to the forming of their ever-expanding shared space. The ideas and themes they discuss have led to the formation of this chapter.

In this chapter, we draw upon our experiences as members of Victoria University of Wellington’s Human Ethics Committee (VUW-HEC) to discuss some of the issues that arise when researchers are asked to discuss the Treaty of Waitangi¹ in ethics applications. Victoria University of Wellington (VUW)’s Human Ethics Policy states that researchers have a responsibility to ensure that research conforms to the University’s Treaty of Waitangi Statute. This statute outlines the principle-based framework VUW has adopted to meet its obligations to the Treaty derived from the Education Act 1989 and other non-statutory sources. Accompanying the Human Ethics Policy is a Human Ethics Guidelines document providing researchers at VUW with information about how they can align their research with Treaty principles, such as those of partnership, protection, and participation. Researchers are encouraged to read these documents before completing the ethics application, which contains a mandatory question asking them to explain how their research conforms to the University’s Treaty of Waitangi Statute. During our time on VUW-HEC, we have observed that this question can be difficult for researchers to engage with in a meaningful way. In this chapter, we do not discuss the specifics of applications or VUW-HEC meetings; instead, we draw on our collective experiences to consider how well our university’s ethics application process creates space for researchers to engage with ‘that Treaty question’.

In this chapter, we explore the ethics of developing and maintaining meaningful and equitable relationships between Māori and Pākehā scholars and researchers. We begin by asking if it is even desirable, viable, or sustainable to pursue decolonising research in disciplines and relationships that are so deeply entrenched in settler-colonialism. We consider the challenges involved in managing an equitable distribution of decolonising labour in settings with few Indigenous scholars, particularly around the constant work of educating and pointing out ignorance, as well as the emotional labour of dealing with Pākehā vulnerability, inaction, and resistance to change. Building on the Kaupapa Māori principles of whanaungatanga and manaakitanga, we suggest a tangible set of seven strategies or ‘collaborative ethics’ to address these challenges in working together and in actively dismantling while privilege and white supremacy within the Academy and wider world of research.

This chapter focuses on creating a Torres Strait Island perspective on the research ethics and cultural protocols of Islander dance. Previous research into Torres Strait Islander cultural dance has traditionally focussed on the music and songs and rarely on the movements themselves or the cultural protocols of dance. Specifically, we explore how Islander dance from the Island of Mer (Meriam Kab) is not only created and practised but also how that information is communicated. This chapter asks the questions – how should Meriam Kab be researched? What are the protocols and processes that need to be followed? What is the role of Elders and how important is their place in the practice of dance? These questions will be explored through the cultural dances performed by the Gerib Sik Torres Strait Islander Corporation as an inroad into the significance of Meriam Kab as expressions of Meriam identity. Gerib Sik has a long tradition of cultural consultation in the development of their dances, and this chapter is co-authored by the directors. Through this writing, we hope to shine a spotlight on Meriam Kab research by illustrating the importance of the specificity of Islander identity.

This chapter describes the pivotal shift occurring in our national research psyche whereby Indigenous epistemology is increasingly recognised as both valid and enriching. Two key contentions emerge from a description and discussion of this shift. First, ethics review bodies must evolve to incorporate a wider knowledge framework, one which conscientiously locates Indigenous knowledge and which empowers researchers to appropriately traverse Aotearoa New Zealand’s cultural terrain. The second contention argues that there are ethical responsibilities to address inequities, based on our shared Treaty partnership, and that ethics review bodies should instantiate consideration of inequities within their oversight roles. This chapter sets the scene by describing the current shift away from Western homogeneity to cultural diversity in education, noting the formal higher learning undertaken by Māori prior to colonisation, alongside current Māori educational achievement and the goal of success as Māori. The emerging recognition of mātauranga Māori (Indigenous epistemology) is exemplified by Ngā Pae o te Māramatanga and Vision Mātauranga. However, this shift has not yet reached all parts of the New Zealand research community, and we argue particularly so for ethics review processes. Possible solutions are posed, and four cultural markers are offered as supporting foundations for professionals in the field as they traverse epistemological landscapes that are more attuned to Indigenous realities.