On day 4, the final day of submissions on the Regulatory Standards Bill (RSB), presenters ripped the mask off a bill that cloaks colonisation in the language of “good governance.” From Rangatira lawyers to urban Māori advocates and education leaders, the unified opposition is deafening. This isn’t law reform, it’s a constitutional coup.
Te Tiriti lawyer Maia Te Hira from Skyes & Co minced no words: “This is the most rejected, refiled, resurrected-from-the-dead bill in the history of our country.” She called the RSB a corporate Trojan horse: “It ushers in the neoliberal takeover of Aotearoa, profits over people, money over manaakitanga.”
Constitutional expert, Annette Sykes warned that “the bill promises protection of property rights for individuals and corporations that has been denied to Māori for 185 years,” yet refuses to apply these same standards retrospectively to address Crown breaches. “Rich white men,” she said bluntly, “stand to benefit most.”
More than just a legal objection, Sykes sounded an alarm over democratic decay. “We are watching a deliberate evisceration of Te Tiriti,” she told MPs. “It’s a new wave of colonisation. We’ve been met with war, jail, poverty, and now threats of violence because we dare to speak out.”
Tania Rangiheuea, speaking for the Manukau Urban Māori Authority, declared the bill “a travesty.” She laid bare the intent behind its tidy legal language: “Where the Treaty Principles Bill tried to redefine Te Tiriti, this bill erases it altogether.”
Rangiheuea highlighted how the bill vests power in the hands of a single minister to decide what counts as “good law,” creating a regime where any pro-Māori policy could be deemed non-compliant. “If that Minister believes funding targeted to Māori is racist… then it will be struck out. That’s not regulatory reform. That’s an attack on Māori rights.”
Clause by clause, she showed how the RSB undermines tikanga, communal housing models, co-governance, and Māori-led services. “This bill prioritises individual market logic. It’s assimilation dressed as neutrality.”
Te Akatea Māori Principals Association’s Bruce Jepsen and Dr. Therese Ford slammed the bill for “setting the stage for the extinction of our language and culture, again.” They called its exclusion of Te Tiriti “repugnant.”
Their message was clear: Māori-medium and bilingual education has thrived because of the Treaty’s inclusion in law and policy. “Our members reject the lie that the RSB represents,” said Ford. “It will hit a precedent that threatens the moral and ethical policies of our educators.” One member put it starkly: “A board that doesn’t understand kaupapa Māori is a risk to our identity and success.”
They reminded the committee that 97% of Māori learners are in English-medium schools, and even there, Tiriti-based approaches have led to transformation. “To erase Te Tiriti is to erase truth.”
Toitū te Tiriti’s Eru Kapa-Kingi accused the drafters of deceptive design: “This bill has been dressed up as harmless regulation, but it directly affects statutes. It’s sneaky, shameful and ironically undemocratic.”
As lead claimants in the Whitinga Tribunal urgent hearing, Toitū exposed how the RSB silences Māori, obscures its intent, and evades scrutiny. “We’ve struggled to mobilise opposition,” Kapa-Kingi admitted, “not because our people don’t care, but because the bill is so deliberately opaque. It’s designed not to alarm.”
He called the RSB “a direct attack” on the founding documents that act as waharoa (gateways) for all peoples; He Whakaputanga and Te Tiriti o Waitangi. “These are safety nets for Tangata Whenua and Tangata Tiriti alike. The bill rips them out.”
Even corporate law heavyweight Simpson Grierson warned that the bill is a legal and constitutional mess. Their team labelled it “unpredictable, unsafe, and difficult to advise on.” They cautioned that vague terms like “liberty” and “property rights” will lead to costly judicial reviews and delays across the public and private sectors.
Their strongest rebuke came against the Regulatory Standards Board itself: “It oversteps into the role of Parliament without accountability,” said solicitor Alice Mander. “It’s a blurring of the separation of powers, and it reports not to the people but to the Minister of the day.”
Simpson Grierson’s message: we already have mechanisms for good lawmaking. “This bill doesn’t fill a gap, it creates one.”
When the bill returns to the House for second reading on September 23, all eyes will be on New Zealand First. Annette Sykes appealed directly: “The power is in your hands. Listen to all the nation, not just the elite.”
Winston Peters and Shane Jones may well be the hinge upon which this legislative attack swings.
But suppose New Zealand First throws its support behind ACT and National? In that case, will it signal not just a betrayal of Māori voters, but also complicity in dismantling the constitutional fabric of this country?
99% of submitters over the four days say this bill is no mere technocratic fix. It is a sharp right turn toward corporate dominance, Crown impunity, and Māori invisibility. The coalition government is not tweaking the law, it is rewriting the rules of the Treaty relationship.
Their message is unified and urgent: Withdraw the Bill. Honour Te Tiriti. Reject authoritarian reform masquerading as regulation.
Because if this bill passes, it won’t just be Te Tiriti that falls. It will be Aotearoa-New Zealand democracy itself.
