Framed as Noise: A Strategic Takedown of AEC
- 5 days ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 5 days ago
by ELV
There’s a difference between being surprised — and being strategic.
And after listening to Dr Michael Johnston’s interview on The Detail this morning, it’s obvious: what’s playing out is not accidental. It’s a carefully executed narrative — a deliberate takedown of the Aotearoa Educators Collective (AEC) at a time when their critique is hitting uncomfortably close to the truth.
Let’s not be naïve.
This isn’t about a surprise heckle.
It’s about who gets to control the story.
Not Shocked — Scripted
Johnston claims he was “blindsided” at UpliftED — that he came to talk about boys’ education, not expecting backlash.
But moments later, he admits:
“I didn’t expect a warm reception.” “There were people in the audience who were always going to do that.”
So which is it?
Was he innocently misread — or was he walking into a room he’d already pre-framed as hostile and political?
This isn’t inconsistency. It’s intention.
He wasn’t shocked. He was prepared. And now, post-conference, he’s using that anticipated resistance to reposition AEC as fringe, overreactive, and ideologically extreme.
Johnston’s tone in the interview is measured, composed, even affable. It’s the kind of calm delivery that earns public trust.
Calm is not always neutral.
And surprise is not always sincere.
When those closest to curriculum reform — and aligned with politically connected think tanks — speak softly, it’s not because they’re detached. It’s because they’re shaping the narrative.
Dr Johnston is not a classroom teacher caught off guard.
He is a Senior Fellow at The New Zealand Initiative.
He has policy access, media training, and strategic comms literacy.
He knows how to:
Sound non-partisan while delivering ideologically driven messages
Frame critics as emotional
Recast resistance as overreaction
This wasn’t a fumbled response.
It was a strategic reframing of sector pushback as irrational noise.
And the target?
AEC.
Now, ELV has no reason to say otherwise — but we do have access to correspondence from within the Stanford–Johnston cluster, where educators and insiders alike describe what’s unfolding as an allegiance of convenience: a partnership that feels less like collaboration and more like collusion.
What’s becoming clear is that the attack on the AEC isn’t accidental. It’s deliberate, coordinated, and strategic — a campaign designed to discredit the very voices that have dared to speak truth to power.
Why was AEC singled out?
Because they’re not wrong.
They’re right — and they’re effective.
They are:
Educators, principals, researchers, and whānau
Grounded in kaupapa Māori
Living out Te Tiriti commitments daily
Deeply embedded in equity-focused education
They are not fringe.
They are the conscience of the profession.
And that makes them dangerous — to those who benefit from controlling the narrative.
On “Universal Science” and Strategic Calm
In the same interview, Johnston defends the inclusion of three Māori scientists in the draft curriculum — calling it “quite good” and proportionate.
And then he drops this:
“In the end, it is a universal discipline.”
What he’s really saying is:
Science is neutral.
It doesn’t need to make cultural space.
It’s beyond identity.
But “universal” has never been neutral.
It’s the word used to shut the door — politely — on every worldview that doesn’t mirror the dominant (Western, colonial, male) framework.
It’s the same logic that once excluded mātauranga Māori altogether.
And it still keeps it on the fringe — not as science, but as cultural decoration.
This prepared response wasn’t off-the-cuff.
He began with:
“First of all…”
Polished. Calm. Smooth.
He was primed.
They’d seen Lynda Knight’s comments. They knew the critique was coming. And Johnston was ready — not to reflect, but to contain.
So he delivers the narrative: three Māori scientists is enough. The discipline is universal. Let’s move on.
It’s a strategic calm — the kind that discredits dissent without raising its voice.
And behind it is a quiet assertion: Mātauranga Māori can be sprinkled on top — but must never shape the cake.
Then came the creativity comment:
“You can’t be creative in a meaningful way, if you don’t have a great deal of knowledge.”
Delivered as fact.
This framing doesn’t just elevate knowledge — it controls it.
You can’t write poetry unless you’ve analysed the classics.
You can’t design unless you know the correct terminology.
You can’t compose unless you follow the Western score.
But in the real world?
Creativity doesn’t wait for credentialed permission. It arises when there’s something urgent to say — and no other language will hold it.
The most powerful creativity has always come from the margins:
Communities locked out of formal education
Children in classrooms not built for them
Cultures surviving assimilation
Creativity doesn’t need a “great deal of someone else’s knowledge” to be meaningful.
It needs truth.
It needs context.
It needs space to breathe.
In our classrooms — especially with our most marginalised ākonga — the creative act often unlocks the knowledge.
It’s what heals.
It’s what helps them see themselves again.
So no — creativity isn’t a prize at the end of the knowledge ladder.
It’s a birthright.
Johnston’s orders:
Dismiss dissent
Frame it as emotional
Minimise cultural critique
Elevate “neutral” voices
Appear inclusive while excluding
AEC has become the lightning rod not because they’re the loudest —But because they’re the closest to the lightning.
They are naming what others won’t.
And that is the real threat.
To the AEC:
You are not too loud.
You are not too political.
You are not out of step.
You are simply standing too close to the truth for the comfort of those writing policy from a distance.
And for that, they will try to discredit you.
Not with fire — but with calm.
Not with argument — but with dismissal.
But we see it.
And we will name it.
Let them call it noise.
We know it as clarity.
Now crank up AC/DC’s Thunderstruck — and let it rip.
AEC, you are the thunder.
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