Nothing about us, without us, is the idea that no policy should be developed and implemented without engaging people most affected by it.
The opposite happened at Ōtākou Whakaihu Waka/University of Otago on September 25, 2025 when deputy vice-chancellor (Pacific) issued a unilateral statement reserving the use and consumption of kava on campus to formal occasions and approved research purposes but restricting its social use until a policy on kava was developed.
Four months have now passed with no consultation, nor a kava policy developed. If any work has begun, it is all happening with much secrecy. The deafening silence had led some dissatisfied staff to the media.
In Pacific countries such as Samoa, Tonga and Fiji, kava occupies a central place in traditional ceremonies. Kava is also a significant social lubricant contributing to family and community cohesiveness in the wake of globalisation and migration.
The growing Pacific diaspora in New Zealand, Australia and the United States is not exempt from this experience. They equally contribute to the demand for kava, now a billion-dollar industry and a lifeline for many Pacific economies. Its use is gaining popularity in sports recovery and as an alternative to alcohol.
Internationally, kava regulatory standards vary. Many countries categorise kava as either a food and/or drink or medicinal.
In New Zealand, kava is considered a food and regulated under the Australia New Zealand Food Standards Code. Even this could have been taken as a starting point when contemplating a kava policy at Otago.
As an institution, Otago is well within its rights to adopt a kava policy for reasons it articulates in the communication. However, a more sensible approach would be to open dialogue on how to develop guidelines on the procurement of kava for university-related business and activities and its use on campus. This is a common-sense approach. I outline three reasons to support this.
First, dialogue builds trust. In my 15 years at Otago, kava has sporadically been used in ceremonial and social settings. The social use referred to here should not be confused with the popular understanding of the term nor the consumption of kava in kava bars and kava clubs.
At Otago, social kava circles, are often small, short and intimate gatherings where colleagues and/or students spend time with each other, engaging in talanoa (conversation) often in the diverse Pacific languages. Kavatail at the end of the annual Pacific Voices Symposium is an example of this. Laughter, banter and signing can also be expected.
The gatherings help shape a sense of Pacific at Otago particularly as student and staff numbers increase.
Therefore, reducing the consumption of kava to a social activity is a simplistic argument, reflecting cultural ignorance. It also sends a message of distrust to those that use a common-sense and context-based approach in social kava circles.
Such circles serve many positive functions, one of which is networking. As an example, over the past three years two vice-chancellors from Pacific Universities visited Otago for a few days on separate occasions.
Each day, they asked for a ‘‘tanoa’’, a colloquial term for a kava circle. We obliged as they were our guests and because they understood that Western meeting processes did not allow for the types of conversations and relationships forged and maintained from such circles.
Ceremonial kava, often performative and exclusive could not achieve such outcomes.
Second, kava and related protocols and etiquette have been incorporated into teaching and professional development initiatives across campus. This introduces Pacific indigenous pedagogical practice into learning environments.
The response particularly by non-Pacific learners has been positive. A participant in a workshop I lead to support tertiary staff engage with Pacific students said this was the best part of attending the workshop, ‘‘the kava circle was a standout ... safe to say my cup was filled to its entirety’’.
Currently, facilitators who draw on kava-related practices and learners who benefit from this experience are in a state of limbo.
Third, concerns about the potential negative implications of kava are noted.
However, using them as reasons for pausing social kava consumption on campus is patronising. The conviction that a policy is required without a sound rationale amounts to ‘‘putting the cart before the horse’’.
Doing so will subsume a socio-cultural practice that centres relationality within the institutional logic of governance, pit Pacific people against each other and undermines Otago’s aspirations of being a University for the Pacific.
The way forward is simple. I urge leaders leading the kava policy proposal to facilitate a dialogue or talanoa over kava or any other non-alcoholic beverage of choice.
My hunch is that we will find that kava is only a scapegoat. The real issue is our inability to look each other in the eye and have open conversations about what it means to be Pacific at Otago and the version of Pacific that Otago wishes for itself.
- Professor Patrick Vakaoti is a Fijian scholar and Manutaki|Dean of Te Tumu – School of Māori, Pacific and Indigenous Studies, Ōtākou Whaihu Waka, University of Otago.
