NEW ZEALAND
SURVEYOR
JOURNAL OF THE NEW ZEALAND INSTITUTE OF SURVEYORS December 2017, No. 304
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The New Zealand Surveyor A Journal of the NZIS, Surveying and Spatial (New Zealand Institute of Surveyors Inc). Issue No. 304 2017 ISSN 0048-0150 Available electronically at: https://www.surveyors.org.nz/members/ nzis_publications/nz_surveyor_journal Editor Peter Knight Email: Editor.new.zealand.surveyor@gmail.com Tel: +64 3 260 6111 M: +64 (0)21 023 6 00 55 Editorial Board: Brian Coutts; John Hannah; Bruce Mcfadgen; Nigel Pitts. Abstracts and brief quotations may be made providing reference is credited to New Zealand Surveyor. Complete papers or large extracts of text may not be printed or reproduced without the permission of the editor. Correspondence relating to literary items in New Zealand Surveyor may be addressed to the editor. Papers, articles and letters to the editor, suitable for publication, are welcome. All correspondence relating to business aspects, including subscriptions and advertising, should be addressed to: NZIS, Surveying and Spatial PO Box 5304, Lambton Quay, Wellington 6011, New Zealand Phone: (04) 471 1774 Fax: (04) 471 1907 Email: nzis@surveyors.org.nz Published by the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors – since 1889. This edition is a resumption following publication hiatus in 2015 and 2016. Cover design by Tara Ranchhod, NZIS Typeset by Emmellee Rose Publisher: NZIS, Surveying and Spatial
Š New Zealand Surveyor. All rights reserved
Contents
December 2017, no. 304
Do the Public Really Know Us? A Guest Editorial Nigel B Pitts tenuous foundations: historical lessons for modern land agreements
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13
David Goodwin, Mick Strack
Surveying: A Profession Brian J Coutts
41
A Case for Geospatial Surveyors Brian J Coutts
57
“Teachers teach that knowledge waits�: But what knowledge? Connecting Technical training and professional education
69
Mick Strack
3
Do the Public Really K now Us ? A Guest Editorial
Nigel B Pitts Nigel Pitts & Associates Ltd Dunedin
Two very timely papers, both by Mr. Brian Coutts, titled, Surveying—A Profession, and A Case for Geospatial Surveyors are included in this edition of the New Zealand Surveyor. The title of the first paper makes the affirmative statement, and then proceeds to substantiate it by setting out the historical advent of professions, the qualities of, learning; service to the community; ethical dealing etc. which form the basis of an occupational profession. The second paper presents a case for applying the term geospatial surveyor to those involved and traces the soul-searching by the surveying community, whether as practitioners , educators, or our own Institute to find an appropriate title befitting and better encompassing the wide range of capabilities straddled by our profession. Both papers are cogent to the current circumstances of the survey profession, the first to confirm to the membership that, yes, we do belong to a profession, the second to grapple with an appropriate name tag which must necessarily convey in meaningful shorthand some sense of our input to society.
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Both papers have similarities in objectives, they first make the case for our activities to be acknowledged as having professional status, then endeavour to encapsulate the common thread at their heart—a very significant challenge, well understood by the membership in light of the diverse activities and competencies involved and recognized within the Institute by its provision of professional streams (Cadastral, Engineering etc. etc.), even though these could not encompass all, or even most, of the memberships competencies. The issue is, in part, a marketing problem: how to convey to the wider public the very significant range of activities available within the profession in no more than two or three words? Geospatial may well resonate positively with surveyors—they are very conversant with the two parts of the word, and the term provides for those who are focused on spatial activities but not necessarily surveyors, but the term will remain somewhat opaque to the general public in the short to medium term. Perhaps, then, we have to identify other mechanisms to help in conveying to the wider public the range of competencies covered by the profession. That suggestion is not intended to convey the impression that all members are skilled in all facets that the profession is capable of undertaking, rather that the profession contains members as practitioners; educators; local body and government employees who collectively can. It may be accurate to surmise that the majority of the general public if asked: ‘What is a surveyor?’ may conjure up the image of a tripod and an instrument on top behind which a person peers into the middle distance—it’s a powerful image, and why should the general public be expected to know more? Furthermore its message is so easy to assimilate. If it is felt that the profession has more to say than the supposed public stereotype noted above, then perhaps there is another way—not to obliterate the tripod image, but let it lie, and establish an alternative form of professional advocacy, a form which has, at its heart, the objective of service on matters of interest to the community, and on which we are competent to provide informative comment. We need to go back a little in time to develop this theme, but before doing so, acknowledge the very significant strides made by 6 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
the Institute over recent decades in its publications, professional development regime, and support for Institute decisions and initiatives, the positive effects of which will have been most obviously apparent to the membership. Returning briefly to a little history, the then Otago Branch of NZIS (now Coastal Otago Branch) in the 1960s began consideration of those provisions in the Institute’s rules concerning such matters as the maximum height of letters used in survey office nameplates etc. etc., rules which were oriented toward avoiding inter-practice rivalry in the marketplace, but which, in the opinion of some, had an unnecessarily negative effect on establishing new survey consultancies, or adding innovative aspects to existing established practices. After prolonged discussion, the Branch decided to promote to the NZIS Council a suggestion that the whole matter of marketing the profession and particularly the appropriateness of the rules applicable at that time be reconsidered, with a view to making appropriate changes. The response of NZIS Council to the Branch’s approach was to engage the Marketing Department, University of Otago, to prepare a report and recommendation on the matters raised, which it duly completed and which resulted in the Institute Council promoting some changes to rules on the topics raised to the membership. The rest is history, the rules being amended sufficiently to facilitate a less rigid regime in respect of promoting new survey practices and new survey services offered by existing practices. The profession had taken the first steps in enabling a closer liaison with the community at large, the public’s recognition of its past contribution to New Zealand’s society via the phases of exploration, transport routes, urban centres, housing (following the Great Depression) etc., having perhaps faded a little in the interim. Moving forward, a significant opportunity to serve the community arose when the Otago Branch, NZIS turned its mind to how best to celebrate the Institute’s Centenary. Two commemorative sites involving historic Otago events were supported—Tuckett’s purchase of a significant portion othe Otago coast, and the exploration and naming of the features in the Maniototo, which owes much to the work of Ms. E Mcatamney. These activities resulted in New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 7
a citation to Tuckett set in stone in Port Chalmers, and a statue of Chief Surveyor, J. Turnbull Thomson featuring in the exploration of the Maniototo, together with tripod and instrument and appropriate plaque in Ranfurly. In pursuance of the objective of celebrating the Institute’s Centenary via both commemorating the past, and providing for the future, the Otago Branch elected to undertake a community based project which involved calling for applications from the public to undertake community oriented projects, the successful project being the investigation and design of a harbourside recreational facility in the Upper Otago Harbour in the vicinity of Vauxhall. Branch members in the period 1989 and 1990 undertook research on recreational needs; climate and harbour-bed suitability; accommodation of existing uses; legislative process in respect of the reclamations involved, and suggested staged development together with cost estimates for the first two stages. Two public meetings were held, and enthusiastic support received, together with constructive criticism, which was then built into the design. The final development, design, and report document was handed to the Dunedin City and Otago Regional Councils for consideration, and press and television coverage of the proposal was readily forthcoming. The concept was not implemented by either council presumably due to other spending priorities ($1.6m estimated for each of Stages 1 and 2 in 1990 dollars). However, Council is currently calling for public submissions on suggested projects for inclusion in its 10 year longterm plan, a stated inclusion being the widening of Portobello Rd by some 6 metres (involving reclamations), and raising formation levels (allowed for the in Branch’s concept design) in recognition of the risk posed by sea level rise. The concept shall be re-presented to Council for its further consideration. Setting aside whatever merits the concept design included, the valuable lesson learnt in the process was simply that the community appreciated the inclusive nature of the design process involved, to provide for an established recreational need via a credible design. It would be reasonable to suggest that the community’s experience would have raised the profile of the survey profession significantly, the 8 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
multiplicity of the elements involved in the process: investigations; design provisions; economics; implementation process and interface with the public and media demonstrated some of the range of skills that the membership could apply to achieve a desired objective—not how it is done—but the end result, and it did not cost the community one dollar. The Branch had acted professionally and incorporated the concept of service. The community involvement experience obtained from the Vauxhall harbourside recreation concept was re-applied by the Branch when more recently, it organized a public meeting on the potential effects of sea level rise, particularly on South Dunedin. Held in Dunedin, and addressed by six invited speakers knowledgeable in their specific subject areas (including ex-Head of the Surveying School Professor John Hannah, member of the International Panel on Climate Change) and representative from both City and Regional Councils, and the CEO of Methodist Mission Southern, addressing the anticipated social disruption which could occur. Some 300 persons listened to the presentations asked questions and derived some insight into the uncertainty of predictions involved and the watchful stance of the local authorities, and the need for investigative drilling to better understand the composition and water content of the alluvium present. The Branch was satisfied with the presentations and how they were received by the public, although on reflection at the debrief, had some qualms about its choice of title for promotional purposes—Sink or Swim—perhaps a little insensitive in the circumstances. Branch activity which may lead so similar community involvement has been its formative steps to establish a Branch subcommittee to report to the membership on developments and further research findings on climate change, predictions on timing and depth of sea level rise, and the very preliminary thinking on issues which would or could evolve—mitigation possibilities; insurance; industry, reaction; financial considerations, interim land use planning issues and the possibility of a planned retreat from parts of South Dunedin and its implications for the potential 10,000 inhabitants involved, together with the effect on commercial, and New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 9
industrial activities. The survey profession cannot claim to be knowledgeable about all of the many inter-related causes and effects of climate change and related sea level rise, but is well placed through its diverse membership to understand the research findings of others involved and the big picture implications—we talk the same language—and if managed retreat and re-establishment proves to be a credible response, the profession could expect to make a significant contribution to the identification of alternatives, and consequential implications. Too soon to become involved? Perhaps not! The end-of-century sea level rise estimates are in the order of 0.5m to 0.6m and it would seem reasonable to expect an interim rise of around 0.25m to 0.3m by 2080 (60 years distant) with consequential tide cycle fluctuations of +0.15 in some areas of South Dunedin which might then result in ground water levels at around +0.4m to +0.45m above present day levels. This would be enough to cause intermittent surface water appearances in some areas unless economically credible mitigation measures are available, an aspect which has received some attention, but probably awaits more definitive indication of sea level rise and rate on increase. The societal implications of sea level rise are potentially significant, possibly very significant, with effects on property values; development decisions, and insurance premiums. At perhaps some future point, decisions on significant maintenance may become problematic in respect of some privately owned property, while Council owned service infra-structure particularly storm water drainage could be particularly challenging, but, again, credible mitigation measures may be available. The title of this article, Do the Public Really Know Us? springs from consideration of Mr. Coutts paper titled, Surveying a Profession. The suggestion made earlier in this editorial was that the paper sought to emphasize that, yes, surveying is a true profession, complying with the two basic foundation elements of a profession: significant education and practising within the concept of service. It is a matter of fact that for many surveyors, their professional input is in the realm of advising clients; guiding projects through design and consenting processes; arranging construction contracts; oversight, and 10 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
certification and liaison with clients and other client advisors. He or she is very visible to the client and the local government officers who manage the interests of their employers, but how visible is the input to the wider public—probably minimal—and what recognition is made of the surveyors project input in the subsequent sales brochures? Again, probably none, the stark reality being that the surveyor, or consultancy, will find no public acknowledgement for its input, the corollary being, of course, that neither will the profession. The solution is probably in the practitioner’s hands—negotiate appropriate reference to be included on site signboards and promotional sales brochures etc. The foregoing has used urban development as the example, and given its visible presence, lends itself to the suggested solutions. However, many, if not most activities undertaken by Institute members do not result in highly visible end product for their labours—so much happens under the radar. With reference to the two public projects undertaken by the Otago Branch NZIS, the Vauxhall Harbourside Recreational Development Concept, and Sink or Swim, the preliminary public event on seal level rise/ climate change in respect of South Dunedin: the latter was addressed by very competent speakers; had some elements of visual presentation, and were significantly influenced by research findings and analytical processes. Both topics had wide public interest—both incorporated input from allied professions, as well as surveyors, and relevantly, both provided the public involved with some insight into the profession’s capability, and ability to work collaboratively with other practitioners. The public can be expected to appreciate being kept informed of sea level trends (and harbour recreation developments) together with their implications and possible mitigation concepts, and it would be surprising if the Coastal Otago Branch did not carry on the process it initiated. Clearly if a staged managed retreat looms as a distinct possibility, then the identification of the Where To? options and How To? considerations in terms of financing models; insurance; local and central government involvement; possible intensification of urban use; interim zoning provisions (already in place); and the possibility of some central government financial accommodation would presumably be applicable to any areas of coastal New Zealand similarly affected. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 11
The intentions of this guest editorial are: (a) to endorse Brian Coutt’s papers on profession and the term Geospatial Surveyor; (b) to suggest that there still appears some unease as to the survey profession’s status and (c) to suggest there is another way for the Institute to get some public acknowledgement. Points to be noted in the context of this article are particularly: (i)
Any of New Zealand’s towns and cities with development in close proximity to sea level would be susceptible to sea level rise, South Dunedin being at the potentially severe risk end of the spectrum, affecting up to 10,000 inhabitants. (ii) Many skills will be brought together to address the threat, the Institute will be but one. (iii) NZIS could be involved both at national and local levels whether it plays a reactive role in the process or whether it elects to contribute to the original thinking as demonstrated in a very minor fashion with the two publicly involved projects previously undertaken. Finally, it is suggested that not only would the Institute’s participation in a pro-active and collaborative sense contribute to solutions, as would input from the School of Surveying at Otago University, but could be expected to assist in addressing that apparently continuing obstacle of a lack of a clear understanding of the attributes and capabilities of our profession. This contributor cannot think of a more valid example of a contribution of service to the community, one leg of the definition of a profession, than its involvement in dealing with the potential threat of sea level rise.
Biographical notes: Nigel Pitts is a member of the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors first registered in 1965. He became a Registered Civil Engineering Associate in 1974, and was elected a Fellow of the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors in 2003. Mr. Pitts is Principal of Nigel Pitts and Associates in Dunedin.
12 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Tenuous Foundations:
Historical lessons for modern land agreements David Goodwin, Mick Strack School of Surveying / Te Kura KairĹŤri, University of Otago, Dunedin
ABSTRACT The past decade has seen a wave of land leases, sales and concessions unparalleled since colonial times. Concurrently, many countries are embroiled in ongoing remedial and restitutive work over historical land leases, sales and concessions that have failed or had unforeseen consequences. This raises the question of whether historical agreements can provide insights into long-term outcomes of latter-day land deals. Three cases are reviewed of agreements between British authorities and indigenous groups, and the outcomes are compared critically. The article concludes that the terms of such agreements are often far broader than the written words, and that if modern agreements are to avoid complications in the long term they should be closely attuned to the longevity of verbal commitments, cultural protocols and trust relationships. Keywords: Treaty negotiation, land tenure, land grabs, legal evidence, indigenous land rights; aboriginal land tenure.
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Introduction
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n the past decade, a wave of large scale land agreements has taken place globally (Karsenty 2010, Cotula and Vermeulen 2011, World Bank 2010, Zagema 2011, Geary 2012). These land transactions often take the form of complex packages with embedded expectations about investment and employment creation (Cotula et al. 2009:6), and although dominated by the private sector rather than by governments, they contain elements in common with land agreements negotiated between British authorities and indigenous groups as a part of colonial expansion. Comparable features include the fact that some of the granted land is already utilised (or at least claimed); there is a tendency to treat land as commodified property, which may be foreign to indigenous perspectives; there is frequently an absence of legal mechanisms to protect local interests (Cotula et al. 2009: 4,7), so agreements may ‘legitimize and entrench the claims of external investors over those of poor local rights-holders’ (Cotula and Vermeulin 2011: 47), and well-resourced purchasers today still also tend to acquire land from under-resourced land occupiers. Furthermore, just as historical treaties and concessions were sometimes simplistic, so too is there a tendency for latter-day contracts to be ‘short and simple compared to the economic reality of the transaction’ (Cotula et al. 2009: 7); to be complicated by factors such as the complexity of local customary land rights (Cotula et al. 2009: 8); and to be couched in terms of formal conveyancing law without recourse to indigenous title and social tenure institutions (Berry 1989). Where land agreements go awry, legal remedial measures are sometimes resorted to, for example between the State and indigenous peoples of New Zealand and Canada. These legal measures typically employ detailed legislative provisions1that suggest a reaction against complications arising from loose wording and from insufficient attention paid to balancing the diverse understandings of legally savvy newcomers with indigenous land occupiers. Alternatively, where land access is perceived to be unjust, the remedy chosen may 14 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
be that of violent redress, for example in Zimbabwe and Brazil. Both avenues are costly and best avoided, and since it seems reasonable to assume that latter-day land transactions may in years to come be burdened with legacies comparable with historical treaties and concessions, this raises the research question of whether a close inspection of colonial land agreements could provide insights capable of informing policy in contemporary agreements. This article explores three historical cases – namely New Zealand, Canada and Zimbabwe – with a view to capturing both the spirit of what was agreed and details of how those agreements have fared in intervening years. In all three cases, evidence is drawn from the literature supplemented by interviews, which took place in New Zealand (2001 – 2012), Canada (2001 and 2003) and Zimbabwe (2005, 2009, 2012 and 2014). Methods Special difficulties are associated with getting to the heart of historical agreements. In practice, written documents with appended signatures or written marks are still often accorded more weight than other forms of evidence, but this may be a mistake. As Shortland comments, of New Zealand: ‘We who have so long trusted to the authority of books, are, I am persuaded, too suspicious of the credibility of the traditionary history of a people who have not yet weakened their memories by trusting to a written language’ (Shortland 1997 (1851): 95). A variety of forms of evidence are admissible in law, and current interpretations acknowledge that the spirit of agreements is paramount. Certainly, verbal evidence, preserved by oral tradition or records of debates about discussions and promises offered prior to signing and frequently couched in figurative or metaphorical language, often carried considerable weight in swaying opinion of contracting parties. In fact, a person’s word was often paramount from an indigenous point of view, especially when ratified by some form of cultural protocol such as smoking a pipe of peace. Alternative evidence strands such as these are borne in mind as the three cases are now considered. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 15
The Treaty of Waitangi, New Zealand The Treaty of Waitangi (Te Tiriti o Waitangi) was signed in February 1840 by representatives of the British Crown and some Maori chiefs, more of whom signed later. It led to the declaration of British sovereignty later that year. The English version of the Treaty comprises three relatively simple articles, namely sovereignty (ceded to the British Crown), property rights (retained by Maori as long as they wished) and citizenship (protected for all people). In the Maori language version, Te Tiriti is more explicitly about kawanatanga (governing authority granted to the Crown), rangatiratanga (Maori authority over their own property and lives) and tikanga (protection of Maori custom). Semantic discrepancies and multiple understandings have been widely debated – for example, the absurdity of Maori signing the Treaty if it meant relinquishing rangatiratanga and mana (personal and tribal authority) (Palmer 2008: 70) – yet these remain largely unresolved except for general agreement that the focus should be on Treaty principles rather than the exact words. Although the written words of the Treaty have assumed great importance in the intervening years, words of explanation and endorsement would have carried considerable weight at the time. For example, the verbal endorsement of the proposed Treaty by the missionary Henry Williams would have been crucial in view of the trust relationship he had built up with Maori over many years. Williams said that the missionaries fully approved of the Treaty and that it was ‘the act of love towards them on the part of the Queen, who desired to secure to them their property, rights and privileges’, and it was ‘a fortress for them against any foreign power which might desire to take possession of their country’ (Rogers 1998: 165, Orange 1987: 45). For Maori, possession by a foreign power was a real fear, and they had a particular dread of the French. This dated to 1772, when ‘a French captain, Marion du Fresne, was killed by the Maoris, presumably for a breach of the Maori law of tapu. The French sent in a punitive expedition, which by its severity was to remain a stigma in the Maori mind’ (Rogers 1998: 90). Williams’s words would have carried particular weight in the light of rumours, in September 1839, 16 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
that a French man-of-war was in the offing to annex New Zealand, rumours that were taken seriously enough for an English ship to be sent from New South Wales to deal with the threat (Rogers 1998: 89-90). As well as the verbal endorsement of missionaries, words spoken at the signing ceremonies would also have been important. As each chief signed and shook hands with Captain Hobson, he announced ‘He iwi tahi tatou’ – ‘We are now one people’ (Orange 1987: 57), suggesting a spirit of a partnership between equal peoples. The signatures appended to the Treaty at Waitangi were followed by several months during which copies of the Maori versions of the Treaty were taken around New Zealand, gathering signatures. We know that the subsequent explanations were not always as clear as on that first occasion at Waitangi, and for the chiefs who signed, these verbal explanations probably carried far more weight than the written words (Moon 2002). Crown representatives, picked almost at random, were despatched to get Maori signatures on the Treaty, ‘like travelling quacks, selling some cure-all elixir’ (Moon 2002: 132). Maori consent was helped by ‘presents or other pecuniary arrangements’, for example ‘gifts’ of blankets (p112), that call into question the ‘free and intelligent consent’ initially called for by the British Colonial Office in the wake of their acknowledgement of the Declaration of Independence by the United Tribes of New Zealand (Orange 1987: 21). Consent was also meant to have been ‘expressed according to … established usages’ (Orange 1987: 31), but the application of the Treaty by the Crown relied more on the established usages of English law, and later, Crown deeds to land regularly eclipsed native title (e.g. R v Symonds (1847) NZPCC 387 and Wi Parata v Bishop of Wellington (1877) 3 NZ Jur. (NS) 72). So how did Maori envisage the Treaty guarantees and protections? One chief, Te Kemara, in the debate leading up to the signing of the Treaty, complained that the Governor (representing the Queen) would be ‘up’ and he would be ‘down low, small, a worm, a crawler’ (Caselberg 1975: 44). Clearly he was concerned that Maori signatories risked losing their mana. As Rogers comments, ‘All the implications of sovereignty in its legal sense they may not have New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 17
understood, but that they were to become lesser chiefs under the Queen’s authority they could grasp quite well’ (Rogers 1998: 170). But authority was one thing, land use quite another. The northern chief Nopera Panakareao understood from the Treaty that ‘the shadow of the land goes to the Queen, but the substance remains to us … We now have a helmsman for our canoe’ (Caselberg 1975: 25), which suggests an understanding of a benevolent and guiding Queen who nevertheless was a titular head only. A scant eight months later, Nopera Panakareao, observing the practical implementation of the Treaty, is quoted as saying: ‘The Substance of the land goes to the Europeans, the shadow only will be our portion’ (Ward 1968, Preface). There is conflicting evidence about whether Maori understood the implications of selling land, and the exclusive rights that were subsequently claimed by settler owners. There was no Maori word for ownership (Waitangi Tribunal 1997: 73), and the phrase ‘tuku whenua’ had specific connotations of land assigned to people brought in to swell a hapu (tribe). Maori certainly recognised the importance of land to their continued way of life, and many understood the worthlessness of blankets, axes and pots in comparison with land (Te Waharoa in Caselberg 1975: 29). Europeans, on the other hand, saw land transactions as separating land from people – an absolute alienation of land. In short, ‘Western land sales were diametrically opposed to the traditional concepts’ (Waitangi Tribunal 1997: 74). Recent analysis of the effect of treaties with indigenous people (Waitangi Tribunal 1997: 386-388), supports the view that it is the understandings of the indigenous signatories that should prevail. There is strong evidence that the verbal discussions at Waitangi focused on what would be protected for Maori – their rights to and authority over their lands (Orange 1987: 46). Furthermore, the statement from the Waitangi Tribunal with regard to land sales, that ‘there was also no contractual mutuality or common design, but a fundamental ideological divide’ (Waitangi Tribunal 1997: 399), can apply just as easily to the wider Treaty context. The legal and constitutional place of the Treaty of Waitangi is therefore still contested, although it is now widely accepted at a political level that 18 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
that the Treaty of Waitangi ‘is a valid international treaty and binding on the Crown at international law and as a matter of honour’ (Palmer 2008: 25). Furthermore, in the current constitutional debate in New Zealand (investigating whether New Zealand should develop a written constitution), although there is widespread acknowledgement that the Treaty will need to be incorporated into a constitution in some form, the scope of that form is highly contested and is thus likely to present a significant barrier to the acceptance of an entrenched written constitution. Canadian Treaties British sovereignty was asserted over the lands and the people of Canada by the Royal Proclamation of 1763. The possession of the lands of the Indians was not ceded, but the Royal Proclamation established that no lands could be purchased other than through the Crown. There is nothing especially remarkable about this; sovereignty over territory (imperium) is quite different from proprietorship of lands (dominium). However, the explicit statement of that fact reinforced the necessity for the Crown thereafter to negotiate, and record by treaty, the cession of lands from the Indians to the Crown. The negotiation of such treaties must therefore be put under the spotlight to determine what exactly was agreed upon and what was ceded. Canadian treaty-making began in the eastern settlements, with several agreements allowing for British and French settlement there. Subsequently, a series of numbered treaties were negotiated and signed as part of the inexorable westward expansion of colonial control and settlement of the interior prairie lands of central Canada.2 Most of these treaties were similar in their official wording although they were signed under different circumstances. Treaty 7, signed in 1877 in southern Alberta, is used here as a representative example of Canadian treaties of that period. The Crown’s sovereign authority over the prairie land was under threat because there was no actual presence of any Canadian authority in southern Alberta until the first arrival of the North West Mounted Police (NWMP) in New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 19
1873. The treaty commissioners were keen to establish the treaties over the Prairie Provinces to make their sovereignty claims apparent on the ground (Henderson 1997: 75). The indigenous peoples of southern Alberta include the Siksika, Stoney, Peigan, Sarcee and Blood bands. They came together as the Blackfoot Confederation, under a well respected chief, Crowfoot, who had developed a close and trusting relationship with Colonel Macleod of the NWMP (Dempsey 1972). On this basis Crowfoot was able to call together the various bands to negotiate land sharing and access agreements with the treaty commissioners. The historical records indicate that the preliminary discussions leading to the treaty were almost exclusively concerned with what the chiefs and individuals of the nation would receive by accepting the treaty. There is ‘no evidence to indicate that the issue of ceding or surrendering the land was ever raised by the commissioners in the discussions’ (Treaty 7 Elders et al. 1997: 255) and it appears that the treaty was never read out in full (p258).3 The treaty commissioners, in their discussions with the Indians, were at pains to emphasise the expectation that the continuity of the Blackfoot way of life – their occupation, hunting and access to all their lands – would be assured (Morris 1880: 268). However, the written treaty presented to them included an agreement to ‘cede, release, surrender, and yield up to the Government of Canada for Her Majesty the Queen and her successors forever, all their rights, titles and privileges whatsoever to (their) lands …’ (Treaty 7 text. Morris 1880). The continuing conflict about the legal effect of the treaty is thus whether the written words of the treaty, validated by signatures and recorded in the historical written records of the Crown, take precedence over the oral agreement, represented by negotiations and discussions, which was validated by the protocol of smoking the sacred pipe and is vividly recalled in the oral histories of the indigenous people. Several formal agreements across Canada were also recorded in Wampum belts – belts of shell beads, woven in patterns – that reinforced the stories and recorded the treaties with 20 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
the Crown (Borrows 2006). However: … marks on a printed sheet of paper had about as much significance for many aboriginal peoples as the colours and patterns of a treaty belt had for many English. The treaty was neither the written memorial nor the belt but the agreement reached by the parties during the oral exchanges (Slattery 2000: 208).
The language used in negotiations is of great significance to understanding the relative positions of both parties. The Crown commissioners regularly resorted to the language of fraternity. It is the language of a self-assured highly literate culture wishing to get agreement to its position by bolstering the status of the illiterate native (who nevertheless possesses what the Crown seeks). The Queen 4 is portrayed as a benevolent mother figure for the Indians, and the settlers as their brothers. ‘Colonial officials participated in ceremonial exchanges and adopted the language of kinship to describe the relationships this confirmed, but it subsequently became evident that their view of what took place at these meetings differed profoundly from the Aboriginal understanding of events’ (RCAP 1996: 646). On the Indian side, the figurative language employed illustrated their world view and regularly made reference to nature; the soil, rivers flowing, and the sun shining. “At the signing of the treaty at Blackfoot Crossing, Red Crow pulled out the grass and gave it to the White officials and informed them that they [would] share the grass of the earth with them. Then he took some dirt from the earth and informed them that they could not share this part of the earth and what was underneath it, because it was put there by the Creator for the Indians’ benefit and use” (Treaty 7 Elders et al. 1997: 114). There was no mention made to sell land; or to sell what is underneath the land; or to sell the mountains, trees, lakes, rivers, and rocks. And we didn’t say to sell the animals that travel on the and – the ones that we eat – or the birds that fly, or the fish that swim. The Old People didn’t get asked to sell these things. They were told ‘the Queen will be like your mother, and she will take care of you until the Sun stops shining, the mountains disappear, the rivers stop flowing, and the grass stops growing’ (Calf Robe 1979: 21). New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 21
Red Crow’s symbolism would by no means have been alien to the English, for whom a common law ceremony (valid in England until 1925) involved handing over a handful of earth or a twig in front of witnesses to transfer rights in land. However, while for the Europeans transferred rights were generally exclusive (other than for relatively minor easements), from the Blackfoot perspective, the ‘magnificent gift’ (Friesen 1999) to the Crown and the settlers was the opening up of their traditional hunting lands to some form of shared access. They were not alienating their land forever in a way that would exclude them from it. They were merely saying5the Europeans could come onto the land to use it for their purposes, and the Indians would retain access to it for their purposes; in effect, ‘we can all share this land’. It is obvious that the Blackfoot people could not have been aware of the incompatibility of uses and the Western requirement for private property and exclusive ownership; sharing was not what land-hungry settlers wanted. Different cultural and legal traditions create different views about what gives an agreement validity, and for the Europeans, total emphasis was placed on the written text, duly authorised by signatures. Pomp and ceremony was an important adjunct to the signature, hence there was a good deal of formality attached to the process. This included dressing up (the presence of the NWMP assisted in this colourful display of formality) and making speeches. In fact, Indian signatures were not collected on Treaty 7, but a name was recorded and an X mark was inserted. Usually the Indian signatory did not even write the X but was merely asked to touch the pen, a rather remote enactment of a signature. Furthermore, Dempsey relates the story that Crowfoot in his apprehension of being swindled by the treaty commissioners reached for the pen but did not actually make contact with it (Dempsey 1972: 105). The treaty commissioners were prepared to add aboriginal ceremonies to their own to recognise that these were reciprocal bargains, and to this end they were comfortable indulging in the pipe ceremonies and allowing for Blackfoot celebrations. It is doubtful, however, if they understood the significance of an agreement made in the presence of the pipe. From an aboriginal point of view: ‘The 22 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Indians have utmost and absolute belief in the sacredness of the pipe. In the presence of the pipe, only the truth must be used and any commitment made in its presence must be kept’ (RCAP 1996: 6 64-5). In other words, for the Blackfoot, the pipe has intense spiritual and moral force, and it validated the oral agreement as the true interpretation of the treaty. But despite the treaty negotiations being conducted alongside the ceremony of the pipe, it is likely that the Treaty commissioners saw these aboriginal ceremonies as ‘merely a picturesque preliminary favoured by Indian custom’ (Taylor 1999: 18). For Treaty 7 elders, in contrast, the pipe solemnised a friendship and made scrutinising details unnecessary (Treaty 7 Elders 1997: 324-5). The treaty can hardly, therefore, be viewed as a meeting of the minds. Zimbabwean treaties and concessions Nineteenth century treaties and concessions in Zimbabwe need to be viewed in the light of the Matabele war which, by 1894, had established conquest as the method of acquiring territory rather than treaty-making. However, earlier agreements warrant scrutiny since grievances surrounding their signing continue, in particular over verbal assurances given at the time of signing, some of which are still contentious (e.g. Magaisa 2008). The first recorded treaty over Zimbabwean soil, signed by Mzilikazi with the Boers in 1853, was primarily a right of way over Matabele territory. This was followed in 1870 by the Tati and the Shashi concessions, signed by Mzilikazi’s son, Lobengula. The former was over an area disputed with a Bechuana tribe, and by granting a concession Lobengula was tacitly asserting control over the area, and the latter was probably also a veiled territorial statement. Thereafter, apart from a minor concession in 1871 to Thomas Baines, no further concessions or treaties were granted until 1888, when Lobengula signed both the Moffat treaty (by which he agreed not to give away any part of his territories without the sanction of Britain), and the Rudd concession. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 23
The written terms of the Rudd concession were straightforward. It was a mining lease for an initial sum plus a fixed monthly amount, granted to three representatives of Cecil Rhodes’ mining company, namely Rudd, Thompson and Maguire. About a year later this concession would provide the foundation for the Royal Charter from Britain that created the British South Africa Company. The document was drafted by Rudd, altered ‘to suit the understanding of the native mind’ (Rouillard 1977: 136), then couched in legal form by the inexperienced Maguire, who had ‘not found it necessary to practice’ after being called to the bar in 1883 (Hiller 1949: 151). A missionary, the Reverend Helm, was present during the negotiations to ensure they were fair and in the interests of the natives. He signed as a witness and to certify that the document had been fully interpreted and explained. In any case, there would have been little need to lie about the Rudd concession, which may have represented ‘the thin end of the wedge’ for the British but which in itself gave away little. Lobengula’s motives are a matter of conjecture (e.g. Warhust 1973: 60-61) but certainly no land rights were conveyed other than in a negative sense of agreeing not to grant land without the permission of the grantees. Verbal assurances given at the signing are less straightforward. Figurative language was employed at several junctures to convey exact shades of meaning, and the words have frequently been invoked in raising grievances in later years. Thompson, as interpreter for the Rudd concession, held the view that ‘All discussion with natives on grave matters was in my time carried on more or less in metaphor, a style carrying much weight when skilfully used,’ (Rouillard 1977: 128) and he confined himself to metaphorical terms that he believed would be best understood by the Matabele, sticking mainly to guns and cattle. Thompson compared Lobengula’s dominion to a dish of milk that was attracting flies (meaning countries wishing to secure mineral rights) and explained that what was sought was not land, only the right to dig for gold: ‘I likened his country to a cow and said, “King, the cow is yours. If she dies the skin is yours, if she calves the calf is yours. I only want the milk.” The Matebili (sic) regarded milk as only fit for children, and not 24 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
food for men.’ (Rouillard 1977: 188). Thompson repeated these words to Lobengula on a later occasion, and years later he sent a statement to the Privy Council repeating the metaphor in order to underline the fact that no rights to land were ever granted by the Rudd concession (Rouillard 1977: 188; Privy Council Judicial Committee, 1918). Thompson used other figures of speech as well, and these have proved particularly helpful in conveying the spirit of what was agreed to. For example, Thompson tried to convey what was meant by the sole right to mine gold being requested, by pointing out that it would be inadvisable to have two bulls in one herd of cows, which one induna (chief) agreed was simply asking for the pair of them to fight rather than looking after the cows. Furthermore, in order to allay fears, he made the point that no one gives somebody an assegai if he expects to be attacked afterwards. In other words, if the whites planned to overthrow the Matabele they would hardly arm them with guns (Rouillard 1977: 130 - 131). Symbolic actions were also important, for example, Lobengula gave Thompson ‘a lion’s pad with the claws thrown back, a symbol that he, the Lion, had left me free without hurt’, and on another occasion a solecism was narrowly avoided when ‘a magnificent pair of Poll Angus’ cattle were purchased as a gift for Lobengula, their black colouring ‘conveying to the Matebili (sic) almost a declaration of war’ (Rouillard 1977: 187). Lobengula signed the Rudd concession, but in the following months further discussions took place that today help to throw light on discussions about what exactly the concession conveyed. Rival concession-hunters at Bulawayo suggested that the King would do well to study the word ‘land’ used in the written concession, and one of the whites, at a council with 300 indunas, challenged Thompson to explain the word. Thompson slyly responded by asking the indunas if they could tell whether a beast is male or female when shown only part of its hide. When they replied that the rest of its body would need to be seen, Thompson said that he too, could only interpret the word ‘land’ if shown the context (Rouillard 1977: 176). Lobengula, seeking reassurance about how his territory stood in New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 25
relation to Britain, decided to send two indunas to the Queen, bearing two letters. The first letter, authenticated by Helm, was a declaration of Lobengula’s territorial claims (helpful to Rhodes, if anything, since it was easier dealing with one monarch than numerous petty chieftains) and a request to the Queen for protection under the Moffat treaty. The second letter, quite possibly a forgery since it bore Lobengula’s official elephant seal which was kept by the trader Fairburn, who opposed Rhodes (Blake 1977: 49), said that the indunas were making the journey to confirm on Lobengula’s behalf that there was indeed a queen, and to ask for someone to be sent by her to help with troublesome concession seekers. The reply, written by Lord Knutsford for the Queen, seems a veiled attempt to protect future British interests. Couched in figurative language worthy of Thompson himself, it cautions Lobengula not to put too much power into the hands of those who come first and exclude others equally deserving: ‘A King gives a stranger an ox, not his whole herd of cattle, otherwise what would other strangers eat?’ (Blake 1977: 50). One last treaty should be mentioned in the Zimbabwean context, namely the Lippert Concession, obtained from Lobengula in April 1891 on behalf of Lippert, a German financier (Cherer Smith 1978: 35). Strictly, granting this concession was untenable either in written or customary law, for it reneged on the Rudd concession by which Lobengula had contracted not to grant land without the permission of the grantees (at that stage, effectively the British South Africa Company, since its creation on October 29th 1889), and in any case Lobengula did not really have the power in custom to grant land rights in Matabeleland (Palmer 1977: 27). The concession, probably an attempt to outmanoeuvre Rhodes by securing the land rights to the country, granted ‘The sole and exclusive right, power, and privilege for the full term of 100 ... years to lay out, grant, or lease ... farms, townships, building plots and grazing areas; to impose and levy rents, licences and taxes thereon, and to get in, collect and receive the same for his own benefit; to give and grant Certificates ... for the occupation of any farms, townships, building plots and grazing areas’ (Palmer 1977: 27). Subsequent confirmation of the 26 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
concession by John Moffat was probably not an endorsement of it but was motivated rather by Moffat’s belief that ‘only the disappearance of their military state could save the Ndebele’ and that the end justified the means (Warhurst 1973: 64). When Rhodes bought the concession it served to buttress the Rudd concession, whose weakness was in not giving control over land. There is some doubt about whether the terms of the Lippert concession were explained fully to Lobengula. Thompson, when asked by Rhodes about the signing of the Lippert concession, replied that, knowing Lobengula’s feelings about land, he was probably unaware of what he had put his signature to (Rouillard 1977: 189). In summary, in Zimbabwe the written terms of land agreements are plain but words spoken and taken as binding continue to be a source of contention today. In early land dealings, Europeans acted as if no one really expects marketplace talk to be other than inflated and hyperbolic, and it is the responsibility of buyers to examine goods carefully before purchase. For the Europeans, the written words were the goods. For the illiterate Matabele, however, the spoken word carried greater weight, and in later years when Francis (‘Matabele’) Thompson was accosted by one of Lobengula’s indunas and asked, ‘Ou Tomoson, how have you treated us, after all your promises, which we believed?’, Thompson had no answer (Rouillard 1977: 193). Outcomes of the land agreements Are any patterns discernible in the historical land agreements summarised above and their aftermath? Could these inform policy on new land agreements entered into today? A broad pattern emerges in the three countries over the century or century-and-a-half since the founding land agreements, namely: i) An initial period in which large areas of land changed hands ii) An extended period of grievance with more or less open objection, and iii) A recent period of legal and/or extra-legal redress of perceived injustices. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 27
Considering these in order: i) An initial period in which land changes hands: In Zimbabwe, the large scale dispossession of Shona and Ndebele from their customary lands occurred in a more blunt and forcible manner than for Maori, where a veneer of legality was preserved by the fact that land was purchased. Maori had at least nominal control over land alienation, although processes were heavily biased in favour of the settler (Gilling 1994, Williams 1999), and many land sales were characterised by a ‘combination of sharp trading, devious tactics, and deliberate swindles …’ (Fleras and Spoonley 1999: 134). The New Zealand wars in the North Island in the 1860s were the result of Maori resistance to selling their land, and these provided the justification for the punitive annexation of land following uprisings. In Zimbabwe, land grabbing by Europeans commenced even prior to the Lippert concession of 1891 (Palmer 1977: 35), and gained momentum in the three years following the partial conquest of the Matabele in 1893. In 1896-7 the Ndebele and Shona rebelled, with one positive result being that land reserves were created to safeguard indigenous peoples (Palmer 1977: 66). In both countries, the net effect was much the same. By 1891 Maori lands amounted to only 17 per cent of the country, much of which was marginal and effectively useless (King 2003: 258), and by 1914 Europeans controlled 75 per cent of Zimbabwe (Chitsike 2003: 2). In Canada, vast tracts of land transferred to the Crown to be allocated to settlers, while relatively tiny portions of land were set aside as Indian Reserves to accommodate the Indians and enforce their cultural transition to settled agriculturalists. ii) A period of objection: In New Zealand, Maori have a history of over a hundred and fifty years of calling upon the Crown to honour the Waitangi Treaty. Regular petitions, disputes taken to court and protest marches about non-adherence to Treaty promises have prompted successive governments to revive the Treaty as a basis for the Crown’s interactions with Maori. In Zimbabwe there were a variety of protests over the years, commencing with the Matabele and Shona rebellions. Later protest was sometimes through the voices 28 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
of Native Commissioners and sometimes by other European advocates (for example, missionaries such as Arthur Shearly Cripps, and by John Harris, secretary of the Aboriginal Protection Society). Then in 1919 the Ndebele National Home Movement sent a petition to George V (Palmer 1977: 112), and in the 1950s and 1960s, African Nationalist protest became increasingly strident. In Canada, in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the segregation of Native peoples on reserves where many aspects of their lives were controlled by government agents left a people with little political power to defend their land, although band leaders regularly petitioned the Crown to restore their autonomy, actively protested against Crown policy, and successfully lodged claims to the Federal courts. Generally there was no widespread armed resistance although there have been several confrontations – for example, the confrontations in Oka Quebec in 1990 and Gustafsen Lake BC in 1995 – that stand as a warning to Canada that the First Nations people will continue to defend their rights. iii) Redress of perceived injustices: In 1975 the Treaty of Waitangi Act was passed, establishing the Waitangi Tribunal as a forum to ensure that the Treaty partnership was observed, particularly in relation to Crown actions affecting the rangatiratanga of Maori. In 1985, the jurisdiction of the Tribunal was extended to allow Maori to seek redress for past actions of the Crown, back to 1840. This Tribunal (supported by various court decisions) has been criticised for being revisionist or presentist in its interpretations of the past relationship between Maori and the Crown (Oliver 2001), but it has nevertheless allowed Maori to air their grievances, has established a basis for settlement negotiations with the Crown, and been focused on the principles of the Treaty arrangement rather than a strict reading of the Treaty words. There are some beacons of success for Maori and the Crown, with some iwi now being able to move forward with a new awareness that the Treaty is more than just the face-value words, but is an agreement to share and protect various rights of governance and self-determination for the Crown and Maori. In Canada, the 1982 Constitution provided for the recognition New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 29
of the ‘existing aboriginal and treaty rights of the aboriginal peoples of Canada’ (sec 35 Constitution Act 1982) and, since 1973, the Comprehensive and Specific Land Claims process has allowed for negotiation between First Nations people and the Crown to settle past grievances. Much of the wider acknowledgement of aboriginal rights, treaty and title claims has derived from the regular resort to the higher level provincial and federal courts. The courts are increasingly recognizing the validity of oral evidence to support the understandings of custom and traditional positions. For example, in allowing for an aboriginal perspective to be considered in court, the Canadian Supreme Court decision of Delgamuukw 1997 (v. British Columbia [1997] 3 S.C.R. 1010) finds that the oral evidence of the Indians is an essential part of evidence and must be admissible by the courts. Lamer C.J. ordered a new trial of the Delgamuukw case specifically because the trial judge had erred by not allowing for the oral evidence of fact in the initial trial. Lamer C.J. quoted from his own judgement in Van der Peet ([1996] 2 S.C.R. 507): ‘a court should approach the rules of evidence and interpret the evidence that exists, with a consciousness of the special nature of Aboriginal claims, and of the evidentiary difficulties in proving a right which originates in times where there were no written records …’ This ruling has provided a very significant boost for indigenous people; allowing their oral evidence to be accepted and validated by the courts and supporting their negotiations with the Crown in recent treaties in British Columbia and in the land claims process. Land agreements in Zimbabwe are founded on a more shaky legal footing than in New Zealand and Canada, and the redress of perceived wrongs, when it came, was done by recourse to violence (the guerrilla war of the 1970s) and by extra-legal land occupations which began in the late 1990s and evolved into the Fast Track Land Reform Program (FTLRP) which in the first decade of the twenty first century settled around 150,000 households in smallholder areas (A1 schemes), 30,000 households on medium-scale A2 farms, in addition to other informal settlement (Scoones 2015: 191). Political rhetoric in the last two decades has been strongly anti-British, and supportive of black Zimbabweans, for example through affirmative 30 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
action and favouring of previously disadvantaged groups. Robert Mugabe has regularly stressed the importance of African solutions to African problems, a stance generally supported by leaders in the region even where it entailed a crippling economic cost and unconstitutional selective application of the law. Of particular significance in this article is that fact that in all three countries feelings still run high about the exact intention of land agreements, and that the land question has never finally been laid to rest. Two main issues are at stake: first, whether the spirit rather than the letter of agreements was honoured; and second, what steps have been taken to redress grievances. Treaty making questioned Even prior to the Treaty of Waitangi, treaty-making was already questioned as an appropriate way for European power to obtain the consent of the distant indigenous people to the cession of their sovereignty and their lands. In 1837, the House of Commons Select Committee on Aborigines resolved that treaties were generally inappropriate:
Compacts between parties negotiating on terms of such entire disparity are rather the preparatives and the apology for disputes than securities for peace: as often the resentment or the cupidity of the more powerful body may be excited, a ready pretext for complaint will be found in the ambiguity of the language in which their agreements must be drawn up, and in the superior sagacity which the European will exercise in framing, in interpreting, and in evading them (Palmer 2008: 42).
But where treaties were signed, Europeans acted as if what was written and signed was of paramount importance, and seemed to see no impediment to exaggeration or even verbal misrepresentation in order to gain consensus. The natives, on the other hand, appeared to set more store by verbal discussions and assurances supported by whatever trust relationship had developed. Verbal assurances and explanations often drew on figurative language, with references to soil, rivers, grass, mountains, sun, cattle and motherhood. The use of such natural symbols suggests that these aspects of the natural world New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 31
were viewed as being more universally understood and therefore represented the nature of agreements better than the culturally biased jargon of written documents. The treaties and land agreements in the three countries discussed have had significant adverse effects both on historical and current relationships between the State and indigenous peoples. An important aspect of the spirit of land agreements was the trust relationships between the contracting parties around the time of the treaty proceedings, in the same way that a trusted conveyancer may reassure a client that the fine print of a mortgage bond is innocuous and not worth reading. Lobengula sought reassurance from Thompson that his ‘heart [was] white towards the Matebili’ (Rouillard 1977: 186), the words of Henry Williams that the Treaty of Waitangi was ‘the act of love towards (Maori) on the part of the Queen’ carried considerable weight because Williams had proved trustworthy over a number of years, and Crowfoot’s trust relationship with Colonel Macleod was instrumental in enabling negotiations for Treaty 7. Any misunderstandings and grievances often stem from discrepancies between indigenous understandings of verbal agreements and the Crown’s stress on written documents. In asserting their inherent superiority over the indigenous tribes, colonial authorities stressed the centrality of honourable behaviour. In all three countries, the British Queen is invoked by the Europeans as representing a level of justice higher than governments, almost one of ideal justice, divinely ordained. The natives often acknowledged the overriding authority of the Queen and were led to expect that the Europeans would act honourably, and both Maori and Ndebele made representations directly to the Queen to record grievances. Natives were often surprised when the Europeans and their Queen failed to act honourably. For example, ‘What took Ngai Tahu by surprise was that … promises were broken, when according to their ‘savage’ code of behaviour the promises of rangatira like Kemp or Mantell were sacrosanct’ (Evison 1993: 492-3), and Lobengula accuses Thompson of ‘having two words,’ i.e. lying (Rouillard 1977: 196). Honourable intentions were expected from the cross-cultural agreements considered here, and after completing various cultural 32 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
protocols, honourable implementation was assumed. In Canada’s case, indigenous protocols such as the smoking of a sacred pipe were a significant symbol of honourable intention, while in both New Zealand and Zimbabwe the formalities enhanced an expectation of the honourable implementation of the verbal understandings. Conclusions There are clear messages concerning land agreements today. First, considering land as commodified property within an expanding globalised market-place is still often at variance with an indigenous perspective on land as the basis of interpersonal and environmental relationships. Just as the indigenous view was generally incompatible with the colonial mind-set, it is now largely incompatible with the mindset of the global entrepreneur seeking land for a foreign people or state that has no stake in local community, land or environment. It is now recognised that the indigenous view may require state protection from the forces of economic imperialism. Second, the spirit of what is agreed to is by no means confined to written agreements; it is the understanding between contracting parties, including anything which helps to impart and communicate that understanding and to preserve it in memory. Third, perceived unfairness and injustice has a very long lifespan, passing from one generation to the next. Fourth, where there is gross disparity in living standards and in access to resources (including land), grievances are likely even if overt consensus was reached in the past between representatives of contracting groups. The figurative language used at the time of negotiation has proved itself pithy, well suited to capturing the essence of negotiating points, and capable of providing enduring mental images that should rightly be drawn on to colour legal interpretation today and to guide new land agreements. It is apparent that perceived injustices that still fester today frequently trace back to the verbal exchanges just as much as to the written agreements. This suggests that legal and administrative processes and settlements today, as well as being cognisant of the written word and black-letter law, should pay New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 33
greater attention to verbal commitments, cultural protocols, ways in which trustworthiness is established and to unwritten forms of evidence. A holistic approach to land agreements that recognises and factors in these attributes could avoid serious complications in the long-term.
Notes 1 For example, the Native Lands Acts of the latter part of the nineteenth century which required Maori to claim their customary title in court and exchange that for an individualised fee simple title deriving from the Crown (see Williams 1999). 2 Treaty 1 was signed in 1871 in Manitoba and subsequent treaties were signed in Saskatchewan and central Alberta, before treaty commissioners reached southern Alberta, and ultimately into north-eastern British Columbia. 3 Local missionaries likely knew about the Blackfoot resistance to land surrender issues, and they probably sent warnings to the commissioners about the potential for disagreement. This may be why the land surrender was never raised for discussion and was only written into the treaty after the discussions and negotiations. Furthermore “First Nations would not consider making a treaty unless their way of life was protected and preserved. This meant the continuing use of their lands and natural resources” (RCAP 1996, 174). 4 Text of Treaty 7: “Her Indian people may know and feel assured of what allowance they are to count upon and receive from Her Majesty’s bounty and benevolence.” 5 As illustrated by the oral testimony of Lazarus Wesley (Treaty 7 Elders 1997, 90): “The government was just allowed to use the land for growing things not given (it). This story has been handed down from the people not from any documents.” See also Taylor 1999, 43. 34 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
6 And see comment by Gordon Lee “The importance of the sacred pipe ceremony” in Price 1999, 111 and in Williams 1997, 47-48: “A treaty sanctified by the smoking of the pipe of peace became, in essence, a sacred text, a narrative that committed two different peoples to live according to a shared legal tradition – an American Indian vision of law and peace.” Also in Treaty 7 Elders 1997, 68: “The smoking of the pipe is similar to the nonNatives swearing on the Holy Bible” and at 89 quoting Turning Robe: “No one can just smoke it. We cannot lie when we smoke it.”
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Rouillard, N., ed, 1977. Matabele Thompson: An Autobiography, Bulawayo: Rhodesiana Reprint Library - Silver Series, Books of Rhodesia. Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. RCAP., 1996. Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. Volumes 1-5, Ottawa: Minister of Supply and Services Canada, Canada Communication Group. Rudd, C.D., 1949. ‘The Concession Journey of Charles Dunell Rudd’, In: Fripp C.E. and V. Hiller, eds, Gold and the Gospel in Mashonaland 1888, 155-228, London: Chatto & Windus. Scoones, I., 2015. “Zimbabwe’s land reform: new political dynamics in the countryside.” Review of African Political Economy, 42(144), 190-205. Sharp, A. and P. McHugh, eds, 2001. Histories Power and Loss. Uses of the Past - A New Zealand Commentary, Wellington: Bridget Williams Books. Shortland, E., 1997 (1851). The Southern Districts of New Zealand; A Journal with passing notices of the customs of the Aborigines, Christchurch: Kiwi Publishers. Slattery, B., 2000. “Making Sense of Aboriginal and Treaty Rights.” The Canadian Bar Review 79, (2000) 196-224. Taylor, J.L., 1999. Two Views on the Meaning of Treaties Six and Seven. In: Price, R.T., ed, 1999. The Spirit of the Alberta Indian Treaties, Edmonton: University of Alberta Press. Treaty 7 Elders and Tribal Council, W. Hildebrandt, et al., eds, 1997. The True Spirit and Original Intent of Treaty 7, Montreal & Kingston: McGillQueen’s University Press. Waitangi Tribunal, 1997. Muriwhenua Land Report WAI 45, Wellington: Waitangi Tribunal. Ward, I., 1968. The Shadow of the Land: A Study of British Policy and Racial Conflict in New Zealand, 1832-1852, Wellington: A. R. Shearer. 38 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Warhurst, P.R., 1973. ‘Concession-seekers and the Scramble for Matabeleland.’ Rhodesiana 29: 55-64. Williams, D.V., 1999. ‘Te Kooti Tango Whenua’ The Native Land Court 1864-1909, Wellington: Huia Publishers. Williams, R.A., 1997. Linking Arms Together: American Indian Treaty visions of law and peace, 1600-1800, New York: Oxford University Press. World Bank, 2010. Rising Global Interest in Farmland: Can It Yield Sustainable and Equitable Benefits? Washington: The World Bank. Zagema, B., (2011). Land and Power: The growing scandal surrounding the new wave of investments in land. http://policy-practice.oxfam.org.uk/ publications/land-and-power-the-growing-scandal-surrounding-the-newwave-of-investments-in-l-142858 Acessed 8th February, 2013.
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Surveying: A Profession Brian J Coutts School of Surveying / Te Kura KairĹŤri, University of Otago, Dunedin
ABSTRACT Surveying is generally regarded as an occupation that has achieved professional status. Its origins are in the area of measuring and measurement science but it also has a history of understanding of land law and land management. Colonial development in New Zealand, and in other British colonies in the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries, required further skills to be developed in allied areas such as municipal engineering and town planning. The distinguishing features of a profession are examined in the context of the international literature. The discipline of surveying in New Zealand is then compared to the principles drawn from the literature. Keywords: professions, land surveying. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 41
Introduction
T
he words “professional” and “professionalism” are widely used in the common speech. However, they are not necessarily confined to a reference to people who are members of a recognised profession. There are professional golfers, professional jugglers and professional comedians, and in this context the term is used to refer to those who earn their living from an activity in order to distinguish them from amateurs. Sportspeople “turn” professional. The concept is extended when such people, or anyone else, are described as demonstrating “professionalism”. Here the word is harder to define, but it is suggested that it means to carry out a task in such a way or to such a level, that it demonstrates some of the attributes that, while remaining undefined, might be expected of a member of a profession. Such common use of these terms in the general sense confuses any discussion about the status of an occupation as a profession. In order to adequately discuss whether an occupation is a profession, it is necessary to understand something of the origins and derivation of what once were called the “learned professions”. What distinguishes a Profession The word “profession” originates from the verb “to profess”, that is, one who had taken the vows of a religious order (O’Day, 2000; Armstrong, 1994; Dyer, 1985). From the time of the Middle Ages there were three accepted or recognised “learned” professions, namely the Church, the Law and Medicine (O’Day, 2000). The Free Dictionary defines the learned professions as “one of the three professions traditionally believed to require advanced learning and high principles” (The Free Dictionary by Fairfax, www. thefreedictionary.com/learned+professions) and also identifies these as law, medicine and theology. A profession was a “calling” and the call had come from God and it was God to whom they were accountable (O’Day, 2000). 42 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Over time the number of occupations falling under, or claiming the status of, a learned profession has grown steadily. Fone (2010) interprets from O’Day (2010) “the development of an educated class between the non-working leisured classes and the merchants, traders, craftsmen and labourers who comprised the working population of [England]” generated those occupations which are now called the professions. She further proffers “that during this period there was a growth of groups of men in the law, the church, and medicine with a common educational background and steeped in the ideology of service to the ‘commonweal’” Fone (2010, p.1). The period identified by O’Day (1450-1800 AD) represents the end of the Medieval Era, and embraces the Renaissance, the Reformation, the Age of Enlightenment, the rise of science and the Industrial Revolution. Printing allowed the greater production of books, education became more wide spread, and the influence of the church was diminishing. This elicits the first clue as to the fundamental requisites of a profession, which may be generally referred to as education and service. This view is supported by Wilensky (1964). It is no surprise that the range of new occupations desirous of claiming the status of a profession began to enlarge as education spread though Western civilisation. Other writers through the 20th century, beginning with Abraham Flexner in 1915, have created lists of criteria that they have claimed would need to be met in order for any occupation to be considered to have professional status. In some cases these lists become lengthy (see Routledge, 2011) and appear to be more of the nature of criteria for professional behaviour, rather than those criteria by which a profession may be recognised. In many cases these so called criteria could equally apply to other skilled occupations or trades and are not exclusive to professions. With the exception of Greenwood (1957) there is little challenge to Flexner’s (1915) criteria in the subsequent literature, but largely extensions to, or expansion of, them. Flexner (1915) listed five criteria, and the subsequent literature does not contest these, but tends rather to expand upon them. Flexner (1915) lists the following: specialised knowledge applied without bias; application of the knowledge to practical problems; New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 43
theory and practice that can be educationally communicated; a trusted self-regulating professional body that confers professional status; and an ethic that puts client’s and society’s interests ahead of the self-interest of the practitioner. While Wilensky (1964) reduces the list to two items, he does so by incorporating several related criteria together and in so doing loses nothing of Flexner’s concepts. Generally the issue of the sociology of professions has dissipated and the topic is rarely discussed (Saks, 2012). That aside, it is an appropriate place to start if there are doubts as to whether an existing occupation has changed significantly and in such a way that its classification as a profession is compromised, or that there are aspects of the discipline or specialties that may be considered to have achieved such status independent of their parent body. Education Higher education has been a facet of professional status since the beginning. The early physicians and lawyers who were considered to be professionals had received their education firstly in the church as supplicants, but then they had specialised in their chosen discipline. Although there were healers outside the church, they would not have been considered professional, and in some cases were viewed as healers or novices at best, and possibly witches at worst. The literature on professions is in general agreement that the education, or learning, for a profession is required to be formal, complex, lengthy and of practical use to society. That is, there is an intellectual component to be applied to professional tasks. In order to ensure that it is to some extent standardised and sufficient, self-regulating professional bodies have come into existence. These bodies set criteria for entry into their particular profession. They may also have developed criteria for keeping up competence in their field, as well as mechanisms to deal with those who fall behind in the maintenance of their continuing competence or allowed their knowledge to become out-dated. Proof of having reached the original required level of knowledge and understanding is found either by setting examinations by the professional bodies themselves or now more commonly, delegating 44 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
that task to accredited universities. Professional bodies have other important functions as well, and these will be discussed later. In earlier times reference was made to the “learned” professions. Flexner (1915) raises the question of whether there are non-learned professions. He concludes there are not. It must be assumed, therefore, that as the term has fallen into disuse, but that the expectation is that the principle has been absorbed into the concept of a profession to such an extent, that it is now considered to be superfluous and an unnecessary additional descriptor for a profession. The learning required for entry into a profession is formed into a “body of knowledge”, will be codified by the profession’s society, and will be taught, maintained and added to by professional schools, which are usually associated with universities. Service Origins in the church leads to the other main attribute of a profession. That is, that the profession is carried out in the service of humanity, or more particularly for the benefit of the society in which the practitioner resides. The professions are frequently referred to as a “calling”, reminiscent of the ecclesiastic origins, and it is expected that the calling will be for life. Unlike other occupations, a profession is a vocation, and having once entered the profession it is not expected that the practitioner will leave it, even if there is a movement into specialisation or to a “fringe” or related occupation or profession. The principle of service is such that the discipline is carried out impartially, that is, any client asking the same question would expect to get the same answer. A member of a profession is expected to exercise independent judgement based on access to the complex body of knowledge that defines the individual profession, and to interpret that body of knowledge in novel contexts so as to solve problems in the interest of the client. The solution should not be influenced by the interests of the practitioner. This is exemplified in the law, where lawyers are “called to the bar” and become servants of the Court. There is, therefore a bond of trust between the client and the practitioner of a profession that the practitioner will apply their New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 45
complex knowledge impartially to the problem or task presented by the client. Furthermore, the level of service will not be related to the level of payment received by the practitioner. Whatever the task the member of a profession is engaged in, the same best efforts will be applied in finding the appropriate solution for the client and for society in general, irrespective of the reward offered. Continuing use of the Hippocratic Oath administered to those graduating in medicine remains an historic aspect of entering the medical profession. Such behaviour as might be considered professional is usually found encapsulated in a code of ethical behaviour. Such codes are established, administered and policed by the professional body (or bodies) related to the specific profession. So while any practitioner expects to make a living from the practice of their profession, it is not the prime motivation for entry . . . or should not be. Service to society is the primary motivation of the true professional in that they have been “called� to this particular vocation. Professional Bodies Professional bodies perform significant functions in assisting an occupation to become, and to maintain, the status of a profession. With respect to education, and in the first instance, professional bodies define the body of knowledge, a proven understanding of which is required before admission to the professional level of an occupation. Formerly the body of knowledge was passed on from one generation to another in ways similar to an apprenticeship, but is now usually administered by specific colleges or universities, who employ members of the profession to both educate aspiring entrants, and to add to the body of knowledge. Many professional bodies will also require some demonstration of continuing competence or proof of keeping up-to-date with advances in the profession in order to maintain membership of the profession or accreditation as a public practitioner. They may also provide the opportunities to members for keeping abreast of 46 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
the latest developments through continuing education (CE) or continuing professional development (CPD). With respect to the principle of service, professional bodies prepare and enforce codes of professional conduct or codes of ethics. In some instances, it is possible to distinguish between professional misconduct and unprofessional conduct. Professional conduct can be construed to indicate when a member of a profession acts in a manner that indicates that they are not competent in the technical aspects of the profession. Unprofessional conduct can indicate that the behaviour has been in breach of the standards of professionalism expected as set out in the code of professional practice. Investigations into these issues may be carried out by the one body, or may be shared, as they are in surveying in New Zealand, between a professional society and a licensing body. That is between the Cadastral Surveyors Licensing Board (CSLB) which will deal with technical competence in the cadastral area only, and the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors (NZIS) which deals with competence in other aspects of land surveying as well as all of the case of breaches of professional conduct. Business versus Profession Many practitioners in professions now are employed by businesses or by government agencies. This is different from the past when most members of professions were in sole practice or in partnerships with similarly or complimentary members of professions. This can lead to compromising positions with respect to their ability to act in a professional manner (Wilensky, 1964 p.148), (Freidson. 1988-89, p.430), (Bowie, 1988). Key factors in the exercise of a profession are impartiality, neutrality and autonomy. If a member of a profession is employed in a hierarchical organisation, they may be subject to constraints on their ability to fully exercise their professional judgement due to policy directives within their organisation or to the requirement to conform to instructions from more senior professional or management staff. Their position may also be compromised if they New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 47
have entered into business arrangements on their own account, where they use their professional skills to advance or promote their own private interests. In these situations there becomes a very fine line between being a business person and being considered a practicing member of a learned profession. While the occupation remains a profession, the ability of individuals to fully exercise their discipline in a professional manner, will depend on the skill of the individual practitioner in such cases. Is Land Surveying a Profession in New Zealand? According to the criteria suggested by Flexner (1915) and Wilensky (1964) the discipline of land surveying qualifies as a profession. Education was standardised in 1900 through the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors and Board of Examiners Act 1900. The methods of training set up under this legislation, articled cadetships, have progressively been replaced by university degrees. The concerned bodies, the NZIS and the CSLB, have passed the education component of becoming a member of the surveying profession to these accredited courses. Parallel events in Australia have occurred, and since the 1892 Melbourne Convention there has been reciprocation between the two countries with respect to cadastral qualifications. The body of knowledge has been codified by these institutions and incorporated into the current curriculum at the University of Otago’s School of Surveying. The body of knowledge is based on the NZIS “Definition of a Surveyor”, a policy adopted in 1992 (see Appendix A). That body of knowledge includes determining the boundaries and rights to land and natural resources; measurement of built and natural features; services such as project management, land use planning and subdivisional design, land development engineering; the management, interpretation and provision of geographic and hydrographic information; and precise engineering, industrial and scientific measurement. At the international level the International Federation of Surveyors (FIG) also has a “Definition of the Functions of the Surveyor” (FIG, 2004) (see Appendix B). 48 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Professional bodies have existed in the region since the Institution of Surveyors Victoria (ISV) was founded in 1874, becoming part of the federal Institution of Surveyors Australia (ISA) in 1951. The New Zealand Institute of Surveyors formed in 1888. The NZIS has had incorporated in its Rules (until the 2013 change to its constitution) Part V Conduct of Members. This included sections on ethics, professional conduct, public practice and advertising, followed by sections that dealt with the procedure to be followed in cases of breaches of the Rules and available penalties (NZIS, 2003). Under its newly adopted Rules, the Council of the NZIS is required to “adopt a code of conduct and/or other policies which it requires to cover the ethical, professional and other obligations of Members. . .� (NZIS, 2013). The altruistic service provided by the profession at the national level has been largely by way of input into relevant legislation through negotiations with government officials and submissions to Select Committees of the Parliament (for example, the Unit Titles Act 2010, the Cadastral Survey Act 2002, the Resource Management Act 1991). At the regional or local level NZIS branches have input into regional and district plans. Additionally, many members make their skills available to sporting, cultural or not-for-profit organisations on a pro bono basis. Conclusion From the above discussion, land surveying does meet the criteria defined in the literature to claim the status of a profession. The range of activities by which the surveyor is able to contribute to society is well defined at both the local and international level. The range is quite broad, and at the international level incorporates branches of surveying that in New Zealand would be considered separate disciplines (such as valuation). A further criteria mentioned occasionally in the literature is the ability, or requirement, for any individual member of a profession to remain within the bounds of his or her expertise, and to recognise when other specialist input is required (Wilensky, 1964. p.141). New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 49
Conversely, as knowledge advances in all areas, some professional functions are delegated to those with lesser educational qualifications who have not met the criteria for membership of the profession. Supporting para-professionals or technicians are related to most professions, although sometimes the distinctions are blurred. It must be recognised that to act professionally, or to bring professionalism to one’s occupation, is not sufficient to claim that the occupation is a profession. There is much more to it than that. While it is possible to analytically examine whether any particular occupation is, or is not, a profession, the final judgement will be made by society in general. Society will also confer professional status on an individual, from their own interpretation of the meaning of the word, irrespective of their education and service, and based on the observation of their interaction with the clients and the society they serve.
References Armstrong, M. B. 1994. What is a Profession? Outlook 62.2. 38. Bowie, Norman. 1988. The Law: From a Profession to a Business. Vanderbilt Law Review. 41:741. Dyer, A. R. 1985. Ethics, advertising and the definition of a profession. Journal of medical ethics. 11:72-78.
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Flexner. A. 1915. Is Social Work a Profession? In National Conference of Charities and Corrections, Proceedings of the National Conference of Charities and Corrections at the Forty-Second annual session held in Baltimore, Maryland, May 12-19, 1915. Chicago: Hindmann. Reprinted in Research on Social Work Practice. 11:152. Retrieved from http://rsw.sagepub.com/ content/11/2/152.citation. 3 June 2013. International Federation of Surveyors (FIG). 2004, accessed 8/07/13, available at http//:wwwfig.net/general/definition.htm Fone, J. 2010. Abstract of O’Day, Rosemary. 2000. The Professions in Early Modern England, 1450-1800: Servants of the Commonweal. Pearson Education. Accessed 19/07/2013 from http://oro.open.ac.uk/21736/ Freidson, Eliot. 1988-89. Theory and the Professions. Indiana Law Journal. 64:423. Greenwood, Ernest. 1957. Attributes of a Profession. Social Work. 2: 45-55. New Zealand Institute of Surveyors and Board of Examiners Act 1900. New Zealand Institute of Surveyors. 2003. Rules of the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors (Inc). Adopted at Westport, October, 2003. New Zealand Institute of Surveyors (Inc). 2013. Rules of the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors Incorporated. Adopted by Special General Meeting, 17 May 2013. O’Day, Rosemary. 2000. The Professions in Early Modern England, 14501800: Servants of the Commonweal. Pearson Education. Routledge, Andy. 2011. Design Professionalism: the designer’s guide to taking back your profession. Retrieved from 11/02/13. http:// designprofessionalism.com/defining-design-professionalism.
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Saks, Mike. 2012. Defining a Profession: The Role of Knowledge and Expertise. Professions and Professionalism. 2:1, 1-10. The Free Dictionary by Fairfax, www.thefreedictionary.com/ learned+professions Wilensky, H. L. 1964. The Professionalization of Everyone? The American Journal of Sociology. LXX: 2:137-158. http://dx.doi.org/10.1086/223790.
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Appendix A NZIS POLICY 1: Definition of a Surveyor A surveyor is a professional, skilled in measurement and resource management, who serves the public by the collection, provision and analysis of information on the extent and identity of land, water and other natural resources including legal, economic and environmental aspects and the provision of advice and services for their development, use and sustained management. In particular, by virtue of their academic qualifications and professional training, surveyors; a) identify and determine the boundaries and rights to land, water and other natural resources whether above, on or below the surface; b) measure land, natural features and structures constructed thereon; c) provide support for the land title system and assist in settling questions of land ownership; d) evaluate land and other natural resources for their economic, social and development potential; e) provide services for land and property development in respect of;
i)
ii) land use planning, concept and subdivisional design, and economic
project management; analysis;
iii) land development engineering;
f) advise on and undertake management of land and property acquisition, utilisation and disposition; g) advise on the ethics of natural resources development, prepare and present applications and carry out the legal processes required for natural resources management; h) manage, interpret and provide geographic and hydrographic information and data associated with the identification, characteristics and use of land and other resources; i) advise on the sustainable use and conservation of natural resources; and, j) carry out accurate and precise measurements for engineering, industrial and scientific purposes. Adopted by: NZIS Council Date: 20/21 March 1992
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Appendix B FIG Definition of a surveyor Summary A surveyor is a professional person with the academic qualifications and technical expertise to conduct one, or more, of the following activities; • to determine, measure and represent land, three-dimensional objects, point-fields and trajectories; • to assemble and interpret land and geographically related information, • to use that information for the planning and efficient administration of the land, the sea and any structures thereon; and, • to conduct research into the above practices and to develop them. Detailed Functions The surveyor’s professional tasks may involve one or more of the following activities which may occur either on, above or below the surface of the land or the sea and may be carried out in association with other professionals. 1. The determination of the size and shape of the earth and the measurement of all data needed to define the size, position, shape and contour of any part of the earth and monitoring any change therein. 2. The positioning of objects in space and time as well as the positioning and monitoring of physical features, structures and engineering works on, above or below the surface of the earth. 3. The development, testing and calibration of sensors, instruments and systems for the above-mentioned purposes and for other surveying purposes. 4. The acquisition and use of spatial information from close range, aerial and satellite imagery and the automation of these processes. 5. The determination of the position of the boundaries of public or private land, including national and international boundaries, and the registration of those lands with the appropriate authorities. 6. The design, establishment and administration of geographic information systems (GIS) and the collection, storage, analysis, management, display and dissemination of data. 54 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
7. The analysis, interpretation and integration of spatial objects and phenomena in GIS, including the visualisation and communication of such data in maps, models and mobile digital devices. 8. The study of the natural and social environment, the measurement of land and marine resources and the use of such data in the planning of development in urban, rural and regional areas. 9. The planning, development and redevelopment of property, whether urban or rural and whether land or buildings. 10. The assessment of value and the management of property, whether urban or rural and whether land or buildings. 11. The planning, measurement and management of construction works, including the estimation of costs. In the application of the foregoing activities surveyors take into account the relevant legal, economic, environmental and social aspects affecting each project.
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A Case for Geospatial Surveyors Brian J Coutts School of Surveying / Te Kura Kairūri, University of Otago, Dunedin
ABSTRACT In the 1980s a number of countries began using the term Geomatics in relation to surveying. While first adopted in bilingual Canada it spread to a number of other English speaking countries. The reasons for its need were commonly given at the time a) it embraced a field wider than surveying b) land surveying had a poor public image, and c) a more modern term was needed to attract students to university surveying programmes. While widely used in academia, the surveying profession has been more reluctant to adopt the term and controversy and confusion have grown up around its meaning. This paper re-evaluates whether the term geomatics has met the original needs and if its use is still valid or if a better term is available. It concludes that “geospatial” surveying better meets the modern requirements for defining the role and practice of what has traditionally been “land” surveying. Keywords: Geomatics, land surveying, geospatial surveying. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 57
Introduction
T
he art and science of the measurement of land and its depiction in two dimensions, be it on clay tablets, maps, plans or charts, has a long tradition. The “Blau monuments”, held in the British Museum, and which date from approximately 3100 BCE, describe a piece of land and its owner. Cuneiform tablets dating back to about 2150 BCE, which now form part of the Yale Babylonian Collection, record measurements and calculations giving the area of a field. They record the work of those we would now call land surveyors. Cooper describes the form of mathematics used by these surveyors as “geometric algebra” and suggests a range of applications beyond cadastral surveying to which they may be applied, such as the volume of conical piles of grain (for valuation) or the number of bricks required for a proposed building (quantity surveying) (Cooper, 2009). The Roman agrimensores, or measurers of the land, also worked with civil and military authorities. They were influential in the mapping and recording of land (Dilke, 1971) but also were needed to assist in the construction of the Roman roads, aqueducts, and other engineering works (engineering surveying) as well as the site selection and laying out of garrison towns, both temporary and permanent (planning surveyors). The Origins of the Modern Surveyor Ballantyne (1996) attributes the first use of the word survey in the sense that it is used in the surveying profession, to 1550, based on a definition of “survey” in the Oxford English Dictionary. This coincides with the beginning of the developments referred to above but clearly indicates a beginning to the idea of the surveying of land. It is likely that the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII, the resumption of their lands by the Crown, and the subsequent sale, rather than feudal allocation of land, encouraged the development of land surveying as an occupation. New owners wished to enclose what they “owned” and boundary demarcation became important. The
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standardisation of measurements by Elizabeth I added further need for an individual with an understanding of measurements. It was not until the Renaissance that England saw the development of what was to become the now traditional land surveyor. New equipment became available in the form of telescopes with cross-hairs, Gunter’s Chain, accurately machined graduated angular measurement circles and Vernier scales. New knowledge of mathematics in the form of algebra, geometry and trigonometry had found its way to England from China, India and Arabia through the Moorish invasion of the Iberian Peninsula, and the travel of English scholars to study in Cordoba and Toledo (Joseph, 1987; Usvat, 2013). Surveying as a Profession The original professions, the church, the law and medicine, began being added to following the Industrial Revolution, and the trend grew in impetus in the mid to late 19th century and early 20th century. Professions were seen as of higher status than the trades and their guilds, but of a similar nature. Professional status and recognition was being sought by many occupations through this period. The Surveyors Club was formed in London in 1792 and was the precursor to the Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors (RICS) which was founded in 1868 (RICS, n.d.). Land surveying as an occupation spread throughout the British Empire during the era of colonial development. While the technical aspects of the occupation were common through the developing areas, some additional skills were added to those relating to measurement as local conditions required. As land surveyors were often the explorers with mapping expertise of new territories, they arrived early in the settlement schemes. They had the task of identifying plots of land that had been allocated to the settlers, and often had to lay out preplanned towns. Additionally, as towns grew the land surveyors were required to design and supervise the construction of utility services such as roads and drains, and design additions to the planned towns as they grew with the influx of new migrants. Hence, in many cases skills that were usually the ambit of other professions were acquired, New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 59
such as town planning and engineering. The tools used in this era of land surveying were much the same as those that had been invented or designed in the 100 years around 1600. Land definition and land ownership were also largely unchanged, although the Torrens system aided the creation of a systematic recording of the rights in land that came with ownership. Thus it was that the colonial land surveyors also developed expertise in the law relating to rights in land. Consequently, land surveying, met all of the requirements defined in the literature as prerequisites for an occupation to be recognised as a profession (Coutts, 2017). The Image of the Land Surveyor From talking to many surveyors in several countries, it has become clear to me that the profession of land surveying has an image problem. The image portrayed, including by many surveyors, is usually a man, although now women are beginning to make a more regular appearance, standing around a device mounted on a tripod. It does not matter very much whether the device is an optical theodolite, a total station or a GNSS antenna. The picture is one of someone in outdoor clothing and who is likely to be wearing boots. Their purpose is unclear although the backpack and GNSS antenna does resonate more with the public than earlier measurement devices. The image is thought nit to be of someone who is a member of a profession, but some technician or technically qualified person. Educational institutions often reinforce this image, and some promote the outdoor activity of the land surveyor’s work as an attractive aspect of the profession. Anecdotal evidence suggests that land surveyors often under-sell their work and their contribution to society through their expertise in measurement, and have a tradition of undervaluing their outputs, even to the point of giving them away (Coutts, 2017). Additionally there is often the complaint that land surveying is not understood by the public. Three questions arise from this view. Firstly, is it actually true? Secondly, how much do the public understand of any profession, and thirdly, if the claim is valid who is responsible for 60 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
changing that perception. To answer the first question it would be helpful if rigorous research were conducted to test whether or not the perception is correct. The response to the second question is likely to be inconclusive. The greater the number of people who have had first-hand dealings with any particular profession, the greater is the likelihood of there being some understanding. The answer to the third question is more complicated. Universities have an interest in attracting students to their programmes in order to keep their programmes viable. Professional institutions have an interest in ensuring that there are enough active professionally qualified practitioners to meet societal demand. The interests of the universities and the professional bodies are therefore aligned. The problem arises, where there are multiple tertiary programmes, or competing professional societies, in getting them all together and then coordinated to develop a coherent, consistent and communicable message. New Zealand is fortunate in this respect in that it is one nation (no states or provinces), has one principal professional body, and has one National School of Surveying. These are considered here to be the principal reasons why New Zealand has an ongoing programme that fills its quota every year. Many land surveyors are unhappy with the image that they perceive the public have of their profession, but the question may be asked if this is indeed the public image of the profession. There are no known studies where this question has been specifically asked and a rigorous answer found. Is it therefore the self image of the land surveyor that is the more of a problem than the imagined public image of the profession? It may then be asked that, if the image is faulty then who might take responsibility for changing it and how can this be achieved? The answer to each of these questions comes back to the profession itself. But first, the professional land surveyors have to improve the image they have of themselves. The Arrival of Geomatics In 1975 Bernard Dubuisson referred in a scientific paper to a new discipline, geomatique. It is not clear who first coined the word, New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 61
but geomatique is translated as “geomatics” and is accepted by the International Standards Organisation. Little attention appears to have been paid to the term, but it reappeared in Quebec City, Canada in 1981. Michel Paradis “created” the word as an umbrella term to include all methods of acquiring and distributing data. At this time the term did catch on and spread throughout Canada (Bédard, 2007). From Canada it jumped to Australia, where it was ostensibly used to define this “new” discipline which was a collection of new technology used to gather and process data added to the academic discipline of surveying. The surveying profession was less than enthusiastic about the adoption and use of the term geomatics. However it is apparent that a more important reason for the adoption of geomatics to define what the universities were doing was its use as a marketing tool, in an attempt to attract more students into struggling surveying courses. In the long term it has not been successful. Australian schools of surveying are disappearing into engineering schools and parts of the profession have adopted “spatial science” as an umbrella term, but it is unclear if the umbrella includes surveying. The principal national surveyors’ society, the Surveying and Spatial Sciences Institute, would appear to be unsure. However, there appears to be a developing preference for names that refer to geospatial rather than spatial science(s). The United Kingdom followed Australia in adopting the term geomatics. While many tertiary institutions adopted it in some form, once again, the professional bodies did not. Its use by the profession’s practitioners has been minimal and its use by academia inconsistent. Some consider geomatics to embrace land surveying while others do not. Advocates for its adoption used similar points to those debated in Australia, namely the embracing of new technology and attracting of young people into surveying programmes struggling to remain independently viable. Advocates of the use of geomatics instead of land surveying in the UK seemed unaware that it already had a definition and a meaning. Frequent mention is made in the literature of “being able to make it mean anything”, as if it was had no pre-existing meaning. An apparently serious argument was made that since it had no meaning it 62 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
would give those who use it an opportunity to explain what it meant. But then they were already concerned that when they said they were a surveyor they then had to explain that to people! The reasons for its adoption do not appear to have been any more successful than in Australia. In support of changing the name of a profession that had existed under an agreed name for over 400 years, and had existed as an occupation for several millennia, Professor Paul Cross, a proponent of the adoption of geomatics, is quoted as saying “A profession that cannot even agree a name is unlikely to be taken seriously” (Cross, 1997. p5). It might be noted that one English speaking country, New Zealand, debated and refuted the use of the term geomatics when it was becoming fashionable in the 1980s. Nevertheless the New Zealand National School of Surveying still continues to fill its 60 allotted spaces each year on a competitive basis, gaining more applications for entry than it can accommodate. It retains surveying as its name and within its core requirements for a surveying degree, teaches courses in all of the new technologies that geomatics was intended to embrace, all without the need of a new identity. The Geospatial Identity There is unrest about the use of geomatics to describe surveying. Practitioners in England, Canada and Australia, despite the widespread use of the term have not adopted it to describe their profession. Those coming nearest are the Australians whose professional body was the Spatial Sciences Institute, established in 2003; it changed its name in 2009 to the Surveying and Spatial Sciences Institute. A superficial consideration of the name change would suggest that Surveying, therefore, must not have been considered a spatial science. Nevertheless, those of the land surveying profession, be they in Canada, Australia or the UK still, in the main, proudly refer to themselves as surveyors. Coutts and Grant (2016) used the term “geospatial surveyor” in a paper presented at the FIG Working Week in Christchurch. It is interesting to note that it raised not a single comment. There are New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 63
reasonable grounds to suggest, that at least in the English speaking countries, geomatics has not only been ineffective in bringing the changes desired when it was adopted, but it has raised the ire of many practicing surveyors. The evidence suggests that the use of the term geomatics is diminishing in those countries named above. Where, then, does this leave the land surveying profession? The word surveying to describe those who measure aspects of land, particularly its location, dimensions, shape, topography and occupation has had centuries of use and reasonable understanding. The qualification “land” has been useful and relevant in the past. However the descriptor “land” is now a limiting factor in describing the capabilities of the surveying profession following the evolution and revolution of technology that occurred during the last century. Furthermore, location data gathering, analysis management and the distribution of information are highly valued and growing requirements of the digital age. Given that limitation, it is suggested that land surveyors rebrand themselves as geospatial surveyors, a term that is more likely to succeed where the adoption of geomatics has failed. The term geospatial is already in wide use internationally, and in some places has already begun the takeover of geomatics as well as spatial science. It is also reasonably easy to interpret by the public as it can be related to devices they already have in their pockets. Never has mapping been so ubiquitous. Discussion and Conclusions The New Zealand surveying profession was wise not to join the global trend in adopting geomatics in place of surveying or to represent a discipline wider but inclusive of land surveying. The reasons others adopted the term geomatics were not relevant to the New Zealand profession at the time, namely; the need to find a term broader than surveying to include new technologies, the need to modernize the image of the profession, and the pressing requirement to attract greater numbers of students. The reasons geomatics was not necessary are quite simple. 64 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Firstly, the Bachelor of Surveying at the University of Otago has continuously evolved to include the new technologies referred to in the original definition of geomatics under the canopy of surveying, namely, remote sensing, photogrammetry and GIS. Secondly, while not having a high profile, the general public did and do have some understanding of the history and functions of land surveyors in New Zealand, and in particular the qualification of Registered Surveyor were held in high regard by the general public, even if the activities of a professional surveyor were not well understood. Thirdly, the National School of Surveying at the University of Otago was undergoing growth in its student numbers and entry to its flagship course, the Bachelor of Surveying, the only surveying course in the country leading to professional status, was competitive. As a consequence the annual intake rose from 40 per year in 1992 to 65 by 2006. Geomatics as a term has failed to achieve the stated purposes of its adoption in the United Kingdom, Australia and even in Canada where it originated and was adopted by academia. Neither has it resonated with the public nor with professional surveyors in any of those countries. University programmes in each have largely been absorbed into larger departments, almost exclusively engineering. In the United Kingdom and Canada the programmes are more commonly branded as Geomatic Engineering. Not using the word surveying to describe the skill set being offered by universities is viewed now by many as a disadvantage, and some programmes have reintroduced surveying into their publicity, particularly their websites, so as to be findable by search engines (Coutts, 2017). Continuing to refer to the profession as “surveying” is important for historic and consistency reasons. However the qualifier “land” has outlived its usefulness. Nevertheless some qualifier is necessary to distinguish what historically has been the land surveyor from other types of surveyors e.g. quantity surveyors. The term “geospatial” is already in use in university programmes, e.g. at RMIT in Melbourne, Australia. It is becoming more widely used and understood generally as smartphone technology becomes ubiquitous. The issue is that the “land” descriptor now undersells the capabilities of the land surveyor. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 65
What is more, the need and demand for accurate location data is increasing and will continue to increase as current technologies continue to advance. It is not suggested here that there needs to be a sudden adoption of new terminology, nor that institutions will need to change their names, at least in the short term. Nor is it necessary that changes be made by “statute”. No one needs to mandate that the new term be used. It is as much a mindset as anything else. It can be implemented on business letterheads and cards in an incremental way so that there are no costs in its adoption. Furthermore, with some compromises, the term geospatial surveyor can be inclusive of the traditional land surveyor, the technologically advanced land surveyor, and those professional GIS practitioners who work in the geospatial landscape. International and local definitions already allow for this. However, all parties need to feel comfortable with the new appellation; that land surveyors are in the geospatial area, and that the appropriate GIS practitioners can feel comfortable being called surveyors.
References Ballantyne, Brian. (1996, March). A polemic against ‘geomatics’: Buttering no parsnips. Survey Quarterly, 5. Bédard, Yvan. (2007). “Geomatics”: 26 years of history already. Geomatica, 61(3), 4. Cooper, M. A. R. (2009). Who did they think they were? or Land Surveyors in Society. Christmas Lectures. Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors. Coutts, B.J. & Grant, D.B. (2016). Geospatial surveyors – what are they good for. Paper presented at the FIG Working Week “Recovery from Disaster”, Christchurch, New Zealand. 66 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Coutts, Brian J. (2017) Land Surveying: has technology fundamentally changed the profession. PhD thesis. University of Otago. (Unpublished). Cross, Paul. (1997, Nov/Dec). Paul Cross - explaining geomatic engineering. Surveying World, 6, 3. Dilke, O. A. W. (1971). The Roman Land Surveyors: An Introduction to the Agrimensores. Newton Abbot, Devon, UK: David & Charles. Dubuisson, Bernard. (1975). Practique de la Photogrammetrie et des Moyens Cartographiques derives des Ordinateurs. (K. J. Dennison, Trans.). Paris: Editions Eyrolles. Joseph, George Ghevarughese. (1987). Foundations of Eurocentrism in mathematics. Race and Class (28), 15. doi: 10.1177/030639688702800302 Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors. (n.d.). Retrieved 19 July 2013 http://www.rics.org/nz/about-rics/who-we-are/history-and-mandate/history/ Usvat, Lilianna. (2013). Medieval Times Mathematics. Mathematics Magazine. http://www.mathematicsmagazine.com/Articles/ MedievalTimesMathematics.php#.UqUvnuK9LMk
Biographical Notes Brian Coutts, is a Senior Lecturer at the New Zealand National School of Surveying and is a professionally qualified surveyor and planner. He has held the offices of President of the New Zealand Institute of Surveyors (1999-2000), President of the Commonwealth Association of Surveying and Land Economy (2004-07)), Chair of the Cadastral Surveyors Licensing Board of New Zealand (2002-10) and Deputy Head of New Zealand National School of Surveying in (2007-12). He was Chair of the FIG Working Group on Voting Rights (2011/12), Vice Chair of Commission 1 (2012-2014), has been its Chair since 2015 and was the ACCO representative on the FIG Council in 2015/16.
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“Teachers teach that knowledge waits”1:
But what K nowledge? Connecting Technical Training and Profession Education Mick Strack School of Surveying / Te Kura Kairūri, University of Otago, Dunedin
ABSTRACT This paper reviews and compares the role of the university in educating professional surveyors and the polytechnics in training technicians. The paper reviews the attributes of graduates of each pathway and reports on research undertaken on students progressing from their technical training as technicians to their education to become professional surveyors: why they made that choice and how it works for them. The School of Surveying was established specifically to provide for the higher education of the surveying profession in the form which evolved into the Bachelors degree (BSurv). This education exists alongside the technical training which leads to a National Diploma of Surveying (NDS) for surveying technicians. Implicit in this discussion is a concern that these qualifications should have a clearer connection. Keywords: Surveying education, BSurv, National Diploma of Surveying. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 69
Introduction
E
ducational institutions, just like professional institutions, need to reflect regularly on where they are heading in this ever-changing world of innovations in technology, different learning expectations and new career opportunities. One aspect of these changes is that learning institutions should not isolate themselves, but enhance connections between them and with the wider professions. This paper discusses the connections between the ‘what’ and ‘how’ of teaching in the School of Surveying, versus the ‘what’ and ‘how’ of polytechnic training in New Zealand – at least as seen in the National Diploma of Surveying (NDS). Traditionally, universities and polytechnics have had quite different objectives within the tertiary education sector. Polytechnics were primarily established to provide technical training, directly preparing students for vocational competence, while universities aim to provide a well-rounded education which provides for skills in knowledge acquisition, research, and cross-disciplinary engagement (see the graduate attributes below). However, those distinctions are becoming blurred. Professional schools in the university sector provide for vocationally directed skills and knowledge, while polytechnic degree programmes are increasingly offered for professions like nursing and engineering. Government policy has also sought to blur those distinctions: The Learning for Life policy agenda advocated for the removal of false or outdated distinctions between “education” and “training”, or between “academic” and “vocational” learning. Unlike most other countries, New Zealand sought to create a highly integrated tertiary education system, with all post-compulsory education services sharing (to a greater or lesser extent) a common policy, funding and regulatory framework administered by the government (NZPC 2017 s1.3).
The degree course at the School of Surveying at the University of 70 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Otago is sometimes challenged by and compared with the technical National Diploma of Surveying (NDS) courses offered at institutions like Unitech and the Waiariki Bay of Plenty Polytech. This is highlighted when students switch or progress from NDS qualification to the BSurv programme. The technical surveying papers at university often take a different approach to knowledge and skill acquisition than the more hands-on experiential approach of polytechnics, but arguably they have some similar end goals – to prepare students to be able to undertake field surveys. It might be expected, therefore, that there could be considerable cross-over between introductory level survey calculations and methods courses at the University of Otago and the practical methods courses of the NDS. In general, having a National Diploma of Surveying allows for exemption of only the first year introductory year papers at Otago. In other words, the two years of part time study towards an NDS translates to one year of full time study for the Bachelor of Surveying (BSurv). It would seem likely however that there is considerable overlap with, for example, some second year BSurv papers, and the knowledge and skills acquired by an NDS student, especially since the NDS student is typically in full time survey work for the duration of that course. This paper investigates whether this inefficient linkage is a barrier to the several students each year who choose the two-stage route to qualification. I report on a research project undertaken to delve into the motivations and expectations of students who have completed a technical training in surveying (NDS) and subsequently enrol in professional and academic education in surveying (BSurv). I report on the experiences of a cohort of such students and their reflections on the NDS in comparison with the BSurv. What is Surveying The profession often has to grapple with the question: ‘what is a surveyor?’ (Coutts 2017). Most surveyors can explain what they do, but also they must acknowledge that there is much that they don’t regularly engage in, but which is also surveying. When faced New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 71
with the question ‘what is surveying?’ a common answer may include ‘measuring the land’, but that needs to be followed up with explanations about the wider extent of surveying: land law, planning, cadastral, land development, engineering, hydrography, remote sensing, photogrammetry, geodesy and GIS. That list closely covers the curriculum of the BSurv degree. The Otago BSurv curriculum covers the broad scope of land surveying, while many other countries’ surveying and geomatics degrees are more narrowly focused on measurement science. The Otago BSurv has an enviable reputation throughout the world for providing students with sound preparation for a wide variety of work. There is strong anecdotal evidence from many kiwi surveyors that they can turn their hand to almost everything, they work hard, they enjoy their work and they perform at a high level, and job opportunities are many and varied. One challenge for the education sector lies in covering the field of surveying adequately –incorporating new technologies while teaching basic principles. Will future graduates continue to measure bearings and distances, write field notes and plot plans? How can the school keep adding to the degree (in technological areas that make graduates particularly useful to employers) without removing some other historical content? It is also important to note that while the science of surveying is important, so too is the art of surveying; it is both a technical exercise and a professional vocation. It requires both field and office work, and the exercise of physical, mental and social skills. Surveyors can be leaders in recognising the capacity of the land and how people use, live, work, and play on the land. Surveyors could also be leaders in promoting resilience and sustainability. Perhaps it is this variety of roles and responsibilities that both confuses people and entices others into the profession. University education Universities are centres of education rather than training. There is expected to be a strong link between research and teaching, and to seek out knowledge for its own sake. The New Zealand Productivity 72 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Commission (NZPC 2017) summarises the classical characteristics2 of university education, which include: -
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Research and teaching activity across science and the humanities, with each discipline having a high level of independence to develop its own standards, culture and international community; Considerable freedom for academics in determining research programmes and curricula; Expression of core Enlightenment values such as intellectual freedom, the pursuit of truth, and the need to challenge conventions; and Government funding but not government control: Humboldtian universities are autonomous and independent from government (NZPC 2017 s1.2).
Universities uphold high standards of academic freedom – they apparently have the freedom to investigate knowledge and develop their intellectual independence without an end goal in sight and without the need to justify research on the basis that it will contribute to economic benefits. Universities have a statutory responsibility to demonstrate the link between research and teaching and they have the statutory duty to be the critic and conscience of society. The Education Act 1989 is explicit about these characteristics; academic freedom is described as: (a) the freedom of academic staff and students, within the law, to question and test received wisdom, to put forward new ideas and to state controversial or unpopular opinions: (b) the freedom of academic staff and students to engage in research: (c) the freedom of the institution and its staff to regulate the subject matter of courses taught at the institution: (d) the freedom of the institution and its staff to teach and assess students in the manner they consider best promotes learning: (e) the freedom of the institution through its chief executive to appoint its own staff. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 73
(Education Act 1989 s161(2))
Universities have the following characteristics: (i) they are primarily concerned with more advanced learning, the principal aim being to develop intellectual independence: (ii) their research and teaching are closely interdependent and most of their teaching is done by people who are active in advancing knowledge: (iii) they meet international standards of research and teaching: (iv) they are a repository of knowledge and expertise: (v) they accept a role as critic and conscience of society (Education Act 1989 s162(4)(a)
Furthermore: (iii) a university is characterised by a wide diversity of teaching and research, especially at a higher level, that maintains, advances, disseminates, and assists the application of knowledge, develops intellectual independence, and promotes community learning. (Education Act 1989 s162(4)(b))
As may be expected, university academics and administrators regularly voice these attributes of a university education: What makes an undergraduate education worthwhile? An education that cultivates creative understanding enables diverse, talented, hardworking graduates to pursue productive careers, to enjoy the pleasures of lifelong learning, and to reap the satisfactions of creatively contributing to society. The corresponding institutional mission of universities is to increase opportunity, to cultivate creative understanding, and—by these and other important means such as innovative research and clinical service—to contribute to society (Gutmann 2011).
But universities must also adapt to the changing needs of society, and it would seem that recent New Zealand governments are strongly pushing the expectation that university graduates should be ready to constructively contribute to the economic development of society. 74 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
For example, the previous Minister for Tertiary Education welcomed the growing focus on STEM-related subjects (science, technology, engineering and maths): “It’s great to see so many students engaged in areas where they’re likely to head into a solid, well-paying career where demand is high and likely to continue to grow” (Joyce 2016). However, this strong focus on science, technology and business is often to the detriment of the arts and social sciences. So for example, the University of Otago has recently announced a retrenchment of the Division of Humanities, resulting in academic job losses and a variety of humanities courses now being unavailable to students (TEU 2016). This redirection of resources is concerning to all who see higher education as providing an opportunity to understand the world from many different perspectives and to have an interdisciplinary focus: We can show how insights of history, philosophy, literature, politics, economics, sociology, and science enrich understandings of law, business, medicine, nursing, engineering, architecture, and education- and how professional understandings in turn can enrich the insights of liberal arts disciplines. We can demonstrate, both theoretically and practically speaking, that understanding the role and responsibilities of professions in society is an important part of the higher education of democratic citizens (Gutmann 2011).
Graduate attributes The University of Otago has identified a list of graduate attributes that it believes should be acquired through the education available there. It is, however, far from clear how those attributes are attained, because rarely are they made explicit in course prescriptions or actual curricula. Nevertheless these attributes may mark the distinctiveness of university education as opposed to technical training. The attributes are: global perspective, interdisciplinary perspective, lifelong learning, scholarship, communication, critical thinking, cultural understanding, ethics, environmental literacy, information literacy, research, self motivation, teamwork (University of Otago 2013). There has been some effort to identify some graduate attributes of Surveying New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 75
students, for example investigating environmental attitudes and awareness (Strack et al. 2013 & 2017). The graduate attributes are not acquired by osmosis, they do not just happen, and maybe for some, they fail to happen at all. In an ideal world they would be incorporated into the planning of all courses, and across a wide range of different courses and even different disciplines. But in professional schools, it becomes almost inevitable that the variety of practical and professional skills needing to be taught leave little room for wider perspectives. A very full curriculum means that the BSurv degree remains strongly prescribed with an almost exclusive focus on the various components of the surveying profession’s needs and little scope to take advantage of the diverse learning opportunities in other disciplines that may contribute to those wider perspective attributes. A wider perspective on surveying education may not contribute to the surveying body of knowledge, but it would provide a better understanding of professional responsibilities and professional contributions to society: “… teaching about the ethics, history, politics, and sociology of the professions would help to prepare students for thinking creatively about the role of the professions in society and how best to hold professionals publicly accountable” (Gutmann 2011). Furthermore: Consider, for example, the issue of climate change in a world that is both more interconnected and more populous than ever before. To be prepared to make a positive difference in this world, students must understand not only the science of sustainable design and development, but also the economic, political, and other issues in play. The key to solving every complex problem- climate change being one among many- will require connecting knowledge across multiple areas of expertise to both broaden and deepen creative understanding (Gutmann 2011).
The dilemma may become: how to balance the training for practical and pragmatic skills for vocation with an education for critical thinking and lifelong learning? The university expects that graduates will have acquired a rather extensive set of attributes. Similarly, the profession expects that graduates have gained essential attributes. 76 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
“The outsiders [the profession] want the students trained for their first job out of university, and the academics inside the system want the student educated for 50 years of self-fulfilment. The trouble is that the students want both” (Schwartz 2003). An appropriately arranged course can ensure that these expectations mostly coincide. Employers are initially mostly interested in being able to put new graduate recruits directly to work: they expect high competency with practical/technical surveying skills. However, those higher professional skills of good communication (oral and written), good teamwork and professional ethics will be what matters in the longer term and hopefully they will quickly become apparent, valued and rewarded. The School of Surveying sits somewhere within the training/ education continuum (although hopefully more towards the academic end) in that the curriculum is certainly directed at professional skills and understanding rather than purely academic pursuits for their own sake. Hannah (2012) identified the dilemma for the School: “The … challenge has been that of building a high quality research capability whilst still maintaining a strong professional emphasis to the academic program.” The School of Surveying was established over 50 years ago specifically to recognise that professional qualities and higher learning standards required the higher learning of a university degree (Coutts & Strack 2012). But like many similar professional programs there are conflicting expectations. “Schools in research-intensive universities have long had a cultural-bias against being characterised as ‘trade schools’, sometimes resisting the teaching and assessment skills that are too narrowly aimed at … practice, preferring to assess students through research essays and other tasks that develop ‘critical thinking’ … that is a luxury not always afforded to the practising profession which our students will soon join” (Sherry 2016;147). Polytechnic training The National Diploma of Surveying is usually taught part-time alongside full time employment. The curriculum is specifically New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 77
focused on work skills the students will need in practice as technicians. Survey technicians usually carry out the field work side of surveying under the supervision of a graduate and licensed land surveyor; they do the practical side of measurement science. They may then also extend their scope of work to reduce and process those field measurements, prepare plans or spatial data files, and ultimately, consult with clients and plan survey projects. Depending on the size of the practice, technicians may, after several years of good experience begin to take a role in client liaison, designing subdivisions and managing construction monitoring, but as is evidenced by the research below, technicians often find the advanced path blocked to further professional development and responsibility. The NDS course at the Waiariki Bay of Plenty Polytechnic has some very specific learning outcomes (skill and knowledge of surveying practices) but more generically lists graduate attributes in 3 areas: literacy, environmental sustainability and internationalisation (Waiariki BoP Polytech 2016). Transition from NDS to BSurv It is not the purpose of this paper to prescribe an appropriate curriculum for the NDS. Rather, it is concerned with how students may conveniently transition from one qualification to the next. Given the regular 3 or 4 students per year entering the BSurv programme after having completed the NDS, there are some issues that need to be addressed. Course advice, passion and grit Firstly there is a course advice issue: students are often not aware of the scope of practice available with each qualification3 (perhaps this is about not understanding the surveying profession), and do not understand academic expectations. An on-going concern for the School of Surveying and by necessary implication, the profession, is to provide course advice at the right time. Secondary school visits and information to schools’ careers advisors are the primary avenues for 78 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
external programme advice. However, there is only sparse anecdotal evidence about the effectiveness of this approach. The Productivity Commission records that “Decision making starts very early. Studies consistently found the decision-making process starts much earlier that Years 11 and 12, likely as early as Year 7” (NZPC 2017 Box3.2 s3). University course advice is becoming more automated. A change in University of Otago administrative processes to on-line enrolment unfortunately means that individually tailored programme and course advice is not regularly available, and when centralised advice is given, it is unlikely to delve into the question; ‘Why Surveying?’ It does not auger well for sustained commitment to the profession when a student into their third year of study answers that question with ‘because my parents want me to’. A suitable response (given that the student had some startling and consistent fails) may be: ‘time to grow up, make your own choices and get out of here!’ School teachers have a big influence on student choices. For example, one student who has transitioned from the NDS to the BSurv programme was advised at high school that he was not ‘university material’ (Interviewee J). This placed an immediate barrier in front of him that took some time to breach. Now, having completed the NDS and worked for several years in survey practice, he is a highly capable, practical and academic student in the BSurv programme. He has a passion to learn and a passion to understand the underlying complexities of surveying. Perhaps he received the wrong advice, or perhaps he needed that additional time and maturity to find his own path? Another graduate of several years experience also believes that getting good advice to make the right choices and then proceeding with passion are the keys to learning and fulfilment: “I believe considering your undergraduate degree options thoroughly is important to success. I am not the first person to say it, but passion is vital to achieving your best. Understanding your personality and what you are really interested in will enable you to make good choices. This is something that can be very ambiguous for young adults entering university, so I believe comprehensive guidance is New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 79
important” (Interviewee M). He continues: “I did not consider my options thoroughly enough when choosing surveying as a degree. This may have resulted in poor selection and affected my desire to excel. Passion drives success” (M). This graduate also reflects on his learning efforts and achievements: “I think I was under the impression that the surveying industry (at least in NZ) didn’t consider / portray honours or high achievement as a prerequisite to maximise future opportunities, and that initial jobs in the market were obtainable without excellent grades” (M). The Productivity Commission describes how education is coproduced – that lecturers and students have to work together and success is largely achieved through motivation: “Motivation is important: students of all ages put more effort into the co-produced process, and consequently learn better, when they are motivated (intrinsically and extrinsically) by a desire to learn” (NZPC 2017 s2.2). The report describes the personal attributes that students bring to their tertiary education: intelligence being the most obvious attribute, but further, that “grit” or perseverance was a reliable predictor of academic success (NZPC 2017 s2.3). It is difficult to assess “grit” but it would be reasonable to conclude that an NDS graduate, making a big commitment to a further three years of university education, is likely to demonstrate true grit. Transitioning It would seem that in some examples of the diploma for technicians programme, the curriculum seeks to introduce a wide spectrum of the surveying body of knowledge to prepare students for a more diverse role as a professional assistant. It could be argued that this gives a false impression of the scope of work a technician can reasonably undertake. The profession has a great need for competent and efficient field surveyors for which the NDS programme is ideally suited. The profession does itself a disservice by expecting that high professional standards (service to the cadastre and to the public) can be provided adequately by staff trained solely in technical skills. Perhaps the profession has lost sight of the very purpose of a university degree. 80 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
A well articulated path from the diploma to degree level requires a strength in mathematics, survey calculations, survey methods, cadastral surveying and field practice. The usual exemptions available to an NDS student are the first year surveying papers SURV101 (Introductory Surveying) and SURV102 (Geospatial Science), the numeracy paper MATH160, the literacy paper (typically ENGL228 – English for the Professions) plus three other 100 level papers. One of the most obvious barriers in the degree first year for an NDS student to transition into the BSurv is the standard of mathematical competence (specifically Calculus and Algebra) needed to satisfy the MATH160 requirements. The gatekeeper courses for entry into the professional BSurv programme are MATH160, SURV201, SURV202, SURV207 and SURV298. In earlier times when the New Zealand Certificate in Land Surveying (NZCLS) was the technical qualification, and this was generally a 3 year part time course, it was possible to have several papers of the second year of the degree exempted. The NDS is now a shorter course and perhaps more diverse, but less rigorous on the core competencies. Currently it is unusual for NDS students to be given exemption for the 200 level papers (depending on consideration of subsequent experience and a report on skills and competency), but the transition from NDS into the BSurv could be much facilitated if the NDS prepared students more effectively for these technical courses and reduced the focus on other more professional courses. If the maths and survey practice curriculum areas are taught to a higher level, students could more easily transition into the BSurv programme. In any event, students would be more effective technicians with those more focused skills and understanding. The BoP Polytechnic NDS programme document states: “This qualification is designed for people wishing to work in the surveying profession as land surveyors. Its purpose is to provide the surveying profession with trained people who are able to undertake field and office work associated with land surveying, in a professional manner” (Waiariki BoP Polytech 2016. Emphasis added). It might save aspiring technicians being given false expectations if the word ‘competent’ was used in preference to ‘professional’. New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 81
What do students want? Are graduates different? While many older academics recognise the importance of the traditional skills of literacy and numeracy on which relatively less stress is placed in modern NCEA curricula, students today are extremely capable at navigating the IT environment, accessing online information, and multi-tasking across different learning and information platforms. So, for example; libraries are consistently dismissed as first choice sources of information for most students; scheduled lectures may not be seen as the most efficient format for learning, and; most students need to be taught the distinction between academic peer reviewed research and Wikipedia entries, in terms of the quality of the information. It is worth remembering that technology taught now may be obsolete within 10 years – higher level understanding will count for much more than ability to use any particular software or hardware. It is also worth remembering that our society generally expects more immediate information and answers to problems. How and what do we teach in this evolving environment? Many students have very short-term aims concerning their degree qualification. It is not unusual, when asked why they are at university (specifically at the School of Surveying), for a student to answer: ‘to get a job’. It is somewhat reassuring when, towards the end of the period of study or maybe after a year or two in the work force, students or graduates acknowledge that they learned very much more than just what they needed to start work surveying, and even say that they have become excited by learning opportunities. Both the new perspectives of students and the needs of society somehow need to be accommodated, so that on the one hand the benefits of a university education are not taken for granted, and on the other, higher-level learning objectives can be achieved. Higher achievement As indicated by the comment of interviewee M (above), it would seem that the profession, or at least current employers, do not see 82 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
immediate value in higher achievers and honours degrees. Higher level students regularly report that while they may be capable of undertaking an honours degree, they do not see that the extra work involved (an extra 28 points or the equivalent of about one and a half papers) will be valued or compensated for in their future employment. I would suggest that this is the result of short-term thinking on the part of both students and employers. While no research has specifically targeted this point, I suspect that honours degrees will provide considerable benefit (and perhaps increasing benefit) further along the professional path. As my interviewee M now sees, with the wisdom of hindsight: I want to excel and do the very best I can do working on whatever suitable opportunities come my way. Most of those opportunities outline prerequisites such as ‘demonstrated record of prolonged outstanding academic and professional achievement’. For many opportunities, this includes undergraduate degree achievement … failing to do your best and achieving to your ability potentially presents unnecessary hurdles down the track, and in some cases makes the future opportunity pool smaller. … try to think about your achievement as something that will never change, and something that will contribute to your reputation not only for immediate opportunities out of university, but also for opportunities in the future. A strong reputation is supported by a string of numerous consistent achievements start early (M 2017).
A university education should broaden the mind, allow students to connect knowledge themes, promote knowledge independence, and develop confidence to continually question the status quo (Sun Kwok 2015). High achievement is its own reward. Survey questionnaire for BSurv students who have NDS or similar qualification It is expected that students who have attained a NDS have a New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 83
reasonably complete understanding of the core measurement and technical activities of a survey technician. That qualification provides a clear career path, albeit one that is usually controlled and dominated by a professionally qualified surveyor. For such students to then decide to upgrade their qualification to the BSurv with an expectation of a more independently focused professional career, there must be an expectation of a different level of learning, and skills and knowledge capability. The experience of such students may provide some real understanding of the differences between the technician and the professional surveyor, and the educational needs of each. In this context, student responses may provide some guidance about course content and learning styles that will better inform university educators to do their work: review the curriculum and provide more appropriate and efficient learning opportunities. All sixteen students enrolled in the BSurv programme who had previously completed a technician diploma in surveying, engineering or hydrography were identified by their enrolment status and exemptions. These students were invited to respond to an online SurveyMonkey questionnaire that asked the following questions: 1. Why have you chosen (What is the main reason you chose) to continue your education via a BSurv after completing an NDS? 2. Please briefly summarise your perception of the graduate attributes of the NDS. In other words what knowledge, skill, competency attributes arise from this qualification? 3. Please briefly summarise your perception of the graduate attributes of the BSurv. In other words what knowledge, skill, competency attributes arise from this qualification? 4. When comparing the 2 qualifications, comment on the scope of the curriculum, the teaching/learning styles, the study load and expectations. 5. Do you have any comments or concerns about the linkage between NDS and BSurv? Comment on the cross-over between the 2 qualifications. For example, should the NDS have allowed for other exemptions from BSurv 84 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
curriculum, i.e. for easier/quicker completion of BSurv. (Note - it is normal for NDS students to be exempted the first year surveying programme) 6. How do you expect the BSurv to change your career prospects? (where was a NDS leading you? Where will a BSurv lead you?) 7. Do you have other comments about your choice.
The research was conducted subject to University ethical approval which ensured that participants were fully informed about the intent of the research and the use to which it would be put. Students were given the opportunity to remain anonymous, but also asked if they would accept a further personal approach for clarification if necessary. It is worth noting that NDS students are by definition usually an older cohort of students (not straight from school) and they usually have a much higher commitment to learning – they have given up jobs and a wage, for study and a loan, in anticipation that higher rewards (financial, job progression, satisfaction and fulfilment) will make up for the three extra years of study. Selected responses In response to the initial question about why students chose to enrol in BSurv, the almost unanimous response was that it is to extend their career path; specifically, the BSurv is the only path to become a fully licensed cadastral and/or professional surveyor. One response typifies that concern: “a sense that I had reached a limit as to what I could do without a degree” (Respondent A). Replying to the graduate attributes of the NDS programme elicited the unsurprising result that the focus was on practical and technical skills rather than theoretical understanding. On the other hand, the attributes of the BSurv programme included: “Analytical skills to aid with problem solving” (Respondent B), and “very high expectation and … understand the theory behind everything” (Respondent C). New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 85
When comparing the two programmes’ teaching and learning and workload expectations, it was clear that a major part of the NDS was the work experience and the ability to question work colleagues and apply their learning in the work environment. “I found working whilst I was studying NDS very helpful. I had work colleagues that could help me in all fields of the NDS, planning, engineering, survey etc” (Respondent F). On the other hand: “in Otago, the students are more concentrated on study rather than work experiences” (Respondent E); “The curriculum of the NDS are somewhat concise. On the other hand, the curriculum of the BSurv expand every knowledge I have learnt from the NDS. The NDS’s teaching styles emphasise self-study skill but lack of explanation of knowledge sometimes. The BSurv teaching styles are more evolved as the lectures are informative and giving students sufficient knowledge to solve problems. The study load of BSurv is about three times more than the NDS. However, BSurv provides more knowledge and study materials” (Respondent H); and “Studying in polytechnic the main focus is on “how” while in Otago university is on “why”. In terms of teaching/learning styles, studying at Unitec allows for more interaction between lecturers and students since it is a relatively small class, while in Otago University it seems to encourage learning from our peers. Both study loads are quite heavy, but BSurv is heavier” (Respondent G). In response to the question about the appropriateness of the available cross-credits from NDS to BSurv there was a balance of opposing views. Several students felt as if they entered the BSurv at the right level: “I view my Diploma as having correctly being crosscredited, there aren’t any papers I have completed so far that I feel I didn’t get anything out of” (Respondent J); “The second year papers are quite important, being exempted can be a loss” (Respondent G); and “It is well cross-credited in terms of not having to do the first year, and the second year papers give better foundations on what was learnt during the NDS” (Respondent K). However, others felt they should have earned more exemptions: “SURV201, SURV207 and SURV208 were the least useful papers which could have been included as exemptions” (Respondent B); “I suggest the School of 86 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Surveying can design several exams for exemptions of the 200 level papers. By given some time for preparation through the textbook or other study materials, I believe more exemptions will be approved. Because the NDS graduates who do not stop study are more targets oriented than the other undergraduates” (Respondent E); and “The NDS students have the competency of studying 300-level papers. However, the current policy only allows exemption of the first year. Given that the professional years start from the second year and the NDS students already have some professional experience. Hence, the NDS students starting from the second year in here is unfair and discouraged. The NDS should be able to start their BSurv study from the third year” (Respondent H). Whether students were happy or not with the exemptions allowing them to transition into the BSurv, none of them regret the decision to bite the bullet and do it. “The NDS would have likely led to a senior survey technician position and depending on the circumstances a small chance of moving in to a management position. The BSurv will allow me to pursue licensing which can fast track a management position. Maybe ownership further down the track (which would have been difficult with NDS)” (Respondent B); “The BSURV has significantly broadened my career opportunities. Previously my career was limited to working for someone else in the private sector. Now I am confident that I can obtain work in a multitude of sectors/areas that were previously inaccessible. It is these new challenges that have kept me in the industry” (Respondent D); “The BSurv opens the door to becoming a registered professional or licensed cadastral surveyor. The NDS was not leading me anywhere in terms of job progression. I would have simply become a more experienced survey technician over time until I reached a point where I ‘hit a wall’ in terms of advancing my career” (Respondent N). The general feeling about the advantages of completing a BSurv and thereby able to become an independent practitioner supports the idea that “A student trained with a narrow and specific skill is a tool, to be manipulated and used by others. A broadly educated student is empowered to change the world, make a difference to an enterprise or New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 87
an organisation, and at the same time lead a personally intellectually fulfilling life� (Sun Kwok 2015). Commentary There is an ongoing need within the profession for well trained and competent technicians, and therefore a clear career path for NDS graduates. Further professional education should not be an expectation. However, career advancement is the key motivation for NDS technicians to study for a BSurv. These students know what surveying is about, they have more life and work place experience and generally have raised motivation to succeed. It would seem that none regret their decision and they take the opportunity for deeper learning, even if they initially thought that some courses repeated existing knowledge. From a teacher’s point of view, technicians provide great assistance for learning, bringing their experience and examples to class discussions, and obviously able to put each course in a wider practical context. They also usually model good study habits and enthusiasm for learning. These technicians are a welcome addition to the student cohort. Anecdotal evidence (for example, discussions at conferences) indicates that employers are generally satisfied with the abilities of the Otago BSurv graduates, notwithstanding some initial complaints that new graduates have little practical experience and need close supervision for at least the first 6 months. There is a very fast learning curve for BSurv graduates, and rapid promotion opportunities. Many young surveyors may be offered partnerships within 10 years of graduation, and most will be involved with the professional aspects of surveying rather than the technical aspects within a year or two; few will be primarily involved in field work operations. The basic skills of measurement are trivial for a well informed professional. New graduates are very aware of the latest technology and often will lead technological development of survey practice. Senior managers of survey businesses are aware of the technology (the capabilities, time saving, and economies of new technology), but leave it to the younger employees to implement that technology. 88 | New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304
Land law, planning and environmental law are likely to be high on the professional’s agenda. Professional focus must necessarily focus on key professional competencies: oral and written communication, client liaison, and professional ethics. Engagement with District and Regional Plans (submissions on plan preparation and plan changes), preparing resource consents, appearing before the Environment Court as applicant or advocate, or before the general courts as expert witnesses often occupies the professional’s attention. Practice management, including HR, business strategic planning, and marketing are also likely to be a large part of the professional surveyor’s work. Perhaps the experience of learning is at least as important as the skills and knowledge learned. Much of today’s technical curriculum may not remain relevant for the duration of a career, so the higher aspirations of tertiary education; self-directed and lifelong learning, interdisciplinary thinking, teamwork, communication, must be inculcated from the start. The graduate attributes clearly suggest a well-rounded graduate ready to take the next step of their careers; “to broaden their mind and horizons, to allow them to see the relationships of apparently disparate phenomena, to acquire knowledge independently and to develop the confidence to challenge authority or dogma. These are the qualities that will make them leaders of the future” (Sun Kwok 2015). But only a few of these attributes can be tied back to the actual curriculum, the assessment or the teaching. If the School is serious about these as key to a tertiary education, then perhaps a lot more focus should be placed on them. After-all, many of the technical skills and work procedures are learned relatively easily in a practical work setting rather than at a university. Is the programme trying to do too much teaching (which partially disempowers students from taking responsibility for their own learning) and not enough guiding? Can teachers trust students enough to leave the learning process to them? There is a developing trend in education towards blended learning and the flipped classroom (Edudemic 2017), where the academics are not necessarily delivering all knowledge but are mere facilitators of learning, and students take a larger part of the responsibility for their New Zealand Surveyor | December 2017, no. 304 | 89
learning, often using video and learning materials available outside of scheduled class time. The challenge inherent in this trend is yet to be met by the School of Surveying, and was not investigated by this research, but inevitably it will need to be addressed in the future. This investigation into the motivations of technician surveyors to advance their qualifications through the BSurv programme to become professional surveyors has provided some insight into more general learning motivations. The lessons learned by questioning students might prompt further reflection on the content and delivery of the BSurv programme. Furthermore, the developments of surveying technology and practice will continue to force change on the profession and the education sector. Can the challenge be met promptly and effectively? It will certainly require closer engagement between the technicians, professionals and educators.
Notes 1
Bob Dylan 1965. Ballad of a Thin Man. The “Humboldtian Model� (NZPC 2017) 3 Looking beyond the BSurv, the School offers 3 year BSc degrees in Land Planning and Development, Survey Measurement, and GIS 2
References Coutts, B.J. & Strack, M.S. 2012. Surveying Education at the New Zealand National School of Surveying. Survey Review. Vol. 44, Iss. 324:5358. January 2012 https://doi-org.ezproxy.otago.ac.nz/10.1179/175227061 1Y.0000000002
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Coutts, B.J. 2017. The influence of technology on the land surveying profession. Unpublished PhD thesis. University of Otago. Edudemic, 2017. The Teacher’s Guide to Flipped Classrooms. Accessed August 2017 at: http://www.edudemic.com/guides/flippedclassrooms-guide/ Gutmann, Amy. 2011. What Makes a University Education Worthwhile? Keynote Address. Spencer Foundation Conference - Achieving the Aims of Higher Education: Problems of Morality and Justice - October 5, 2011. Accessed January 2017 at: http://www.upenn.edu/president/meet-president/ what-makes-university-education-worthwhile Hannah, J. 2012. Educating surveyors: Some of the challenges. Coordinates. A monthly magazine on positioning, navigation and beyond. October 2012. Joyce, S. 2016. More engineering and ICT students at universities. Accessed July 2017 at: https://www.beehive.govt.nz/release/more-engineering-and-ictstudents-universities New Zealand Productivity Commission. 2017. New models of tertiary education – final report. NZPC. Wellington. Accessed August 2017 at: http://www.productivity.govt.nz/inquiry-report/new-models-of-tertiaryeducation-final-report Schwartz, S. 2003. The higher purpose. Times Higher Education. Accessed July 2017 at: https://www.timeshighereducation.com/comment/columnists/ the-higher-purpose/176727.article# Sherry, C. 2016. Teaching land law – An essay. Australian Property Law Journal (2016) 25;129-149 Strack, M., Jowett, T., Shephard, K. & Harraway, J. 2013. What impact do Higher-education experiences have on the environmental attitudes of surveying students. New Zealand Surveyor 302:36-42.
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Strack, M., Shephard, K., Jowett, T., Mogford, S., Skeaff, S. & Mirosa, M. 2017. Monitoring surveying students’ environmental attitudes as they experience higher education in New Zealand. Survey Review. http://dx.doi. org/10.1080/00396265.2017.1399526 Sun Kwok, 2015. What is the purpose of a university education? South China Morning Post. 11 December. Accessed Jan 2017 at http://www. scmp.com/comment/insight-opinion/article/1889686/what-purpose-universityeducation Tertiary Education Union, TEU. 2016. Five humanities departments face cuts at Otago. Tertiary Update Vol 19 No 27. Assessed August 2017 at: http://teu.ac.nz/2016/08/humanities-cuts-otago/ University of Otago. 2013. Teaching and Learning Plan 2013-2020. Accessed July 2017 at http://www.otago.ac.nz/staff/otago027123.pdf Waiariki Bay of Plenty Polytechnic. 2016. New Zealand Diploma in Surveying Programme Document. Accessed by email attachment from course director.
Acknowledgements: The author wishes to thank the respondents to the research reported herein. May your choices prove to provide self-fulfilment. The author further declares that he also took the path of a technical training (NZCLS) before a much later re-entry to university and the academic path.
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