
In July, on his online outlet The Platform, Plunket described tikanga (Maori ritual and custom) as "mumbo jumbo", which inspired a listener to complain.
But to whom? The Media Council — the oversight organisation to which newspapers such as the Otago Daily Times are subject to — can only consider complaints about the publications on its member’s list, which does not include The Platform.
Hence the complainant ventured off to the Broadcasting Standards Authority, reasoning that a live internet streamer — which The Platform mainly is — was akin to a broadcaster.
The BSA decided provisionally — and, somewhat optimistically, it hoped confidentially — that it did indeed have jurisdiction over The Platform, and sent Plunket a "Provisional Interlocutory Decision" telling him so.
At which point Plunket, predictably, went ballistic, saying "Orwellian bureaucrats" were coming for us. He had support in high places: Act New Zealand Southland list MP Todd Stephenson condemned the BSA and pledged to draft a member’s Bill for it to be scrapped, while New Zealand First leader Winston Peters called the BSA’s conclusions "Soviet-era stasi" behaviour.
The general tenor was that the BSA was attempting to censor the internet, in an act of grotesque and arguably illegal overreach.
Other commentators argued what The Platform does is, essentially, broadcasting, and that hence the BSA was correct to believe it had complaint jurisdiction over the streamer.
At the heart of this dispute lies the Broadcasting Act 1989, legislation which — as suggested by the date it came into effect — was not drafted with the 21st century media landscape in mind.
In the Act’s interpretations section, it defines broadcasting as "any transmission of programmes, whether or not encrypted, by radio waves or other means of telecommunication for reception by the public by means of broadcasting receiving apparatus."
The BSA noted that there was currently no code of broadcasting standards specifically addressing the online broadcasting context, but as in its view The Platform was "broadcasting" it was required to consider the complaint.
The Authority may be right: the definition is very broad and could capture many means of transmitting information or opinion.
The Authority has also previously opined that programmes livestreamed by a company over the internet fell within the definition of broadcast, but that was in a 2019 letter to "broadcasters" — hence, the question arises whether The Platform has previously been treated as a broadcaster by the BSA, or anyone else.
Broadcasters are subject to licensing requirements and have purchased portions of the spectrum for exclusive use. As such, they fall under various forms of regulatory oversight.

This is just one of many questions this dispute raises, questions which the government should have tackled long ago. Tools such as defamation law are blunt in circumstances such as these.
What makes this dispute so messy is that The Platform, unlike — arguably — most other organisations recognised as broadcasters, is an undeniable and unapologetic vehicle for its host’s political and social views.
Any attempt to stymie or circumscribe Plunket’s ability to say whatever he likes runs the risk of looking partisan.
Having said that, freedom of speech comes with the proviso of responsibility of speech. Should Plunket and others be able to say anything at all without an oversight or complaints mechanism?
Plunket has an argument that he should not have had to be cognisant of the BSA broadcast guidelines while streaming on The Platform, given he was unaware that he was subject to them.
But, equally, a void remains for some arbiter of appropriate and responsible behaviour by disseminators of opinion and information on the internet, as there is on radio, television and print media. It is long past time that the government should have considered this.
There is indeed a place for straight-talking and free-thinking on the internet, but it should be done fairly and with respect.