New Zealanders are obsessed with it, intellectuals are fascinated by it and migrants are giving it a new twist. Amid all the gnashing of teeth over the great Kiwi identity crisis, what seems to endure is a love of the land and laissez-faire egalitarianism.

We are, we believe, a society free of classes but stingy with emotions. We don’t like tall poppies, but we’re resilient, laid back, and multicultural.

Yeah right.

Immigration is changing our national identity, and according to academics, despite our claimed tolerance, we don’t like it much.

"I’m not that convinced that we’ll be okay," says Waikato University population expert Richard Bedford. "New Zealanders are quite happy to travel and experience different cultures. But we don’t want them here."

Social researcher Jacqueline Smart is also sceptical. New Zealanders might boast of being bicultural, but it’s more to reassure ourselves that we are superior to the rest of the world, she says.

"We want people to fit in with us. If immigrants don’t do things our way, we feel threatened."

Smart, director of strategy at advertising agency FCB, recently researched national identity as part of an international project, and turned up two key characteristics: our connection to the land and our number-eight-wire mentality.

She argues that for Kiwis, land is wealth - the quarter-acre-block is still an ideal. Anything that might mean there’s less to go around, and anyone who doesn’t get out there and enjoy it as we do, terrifies us. Our pioneer attitude is also problematic. Growing up in an environment where resources were scarce, we are possessive about what we’ve got and dead scared we will lose it. Look at our national anthem, says Smart. We ask God to defend us, while the Australians sing Advance Australia Fair.

 

Who we are bothers Kiwis. "We can’t stop thinking about it. It’s why we always ask tourists if they like New Zealand five minutes after they touch down at the airport. To me it signals an insecurity," says Avril Bell, senior lecturer at Massey University’s school of sociology.

Bell thinks we are uncomfortable in our skin because of the way we grew it. A settler nation, our identity is for the most part inherited from Britain, and not dissimilar to that of Australia or Canada. The runt of the pack, we are always trying to mark out our patch, desperately staking our claim to Russell Crowe and pavlova to prove we are special.

Some argue a mongrel national identity and a secular society should make us more accepting of differences. But Smart doesn’t think so, and neither does Bell. Because we are so unsure of ourselves, they say, we tighten our grasp on the characteristics we believe are unique.

Given our colonial history, says Bell, being anti-Asian may even be part of our national identity. Ironically, globalisation may also be curbing our compassion.