KEY POINTS:
Near the end of each year, when we compile the names of those who made a notable contribution to national life, it can be hard to select one for our annual accolade.
How can we compare the efforts, for example, of Joe Karam, whose long pursuit of justice saw David Bain released from prison this year to await a retrial, and Valerie Vili, world champion shot-putter, surely New Zealand's sportswoman of the year?
How do we rank acts of courage such as Corporal Willie Apiata's, awarded the Victoria Cross for staying with a wounded SAS comrade when ambushed in Afghanistan, or Richard Bateman, who trekked more than 5km to get help for his companion when their plane crashed in the Southern Alps, or Peter Macintosh, who risked his life to save a toddler from the jaws of a dog in a park in Christchurch?
And always the work of doctors and scientists attracts gratitude. This year they range from 26-year-old Jessie Jacobsen, the MacDiarmid Young Scientist of the Year for research that could contribute to a cure for Huntington's disease, to Richard Faull, awarded the Rutherford Medal for neurosurgical research, and paediatric cardiac surgeon Alan Kerr, who combines courage and medical effort to help Palestinian children in Gaza and East Jerusalem.
Nor can we forget Jenny Suo and Anna Devathasan, whose science project at Pakuranga College saw GlaxoSmithKline admit Fair Trading Act breaches for false claims about Ribena's vitamin C content.
And we must not ignore life's lighter side, where Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement have taken Kiwi banter to success in New York comedy as the Flight of the Conchords.
But this year one contribution stood out clearly. It was distinguished by courage of a rare kind - the willingness to suffer deeply personal exposure for the sake of exposing an ugly element in one of our most important public institutions.
Louise Nicholas was brought up like most New Zealanders to respect the police. Her illusions were shattered early by rape at the hands of a town constable. Feeling powerless and afraid, she was then used by policemen with a predilection for group sex.
When she found the courage to formally complain, she trusted a senior detective who deceived her, poisoning prosecutions to cover up for his mates.
The cover-up was discovered by a journalist, Phil Kitchin, whose meticulous work deserves to be honoured with her response to his discoveries. The commitment of Kitchin's editors, Tim Pankhurst of the Dominion Post and Bill Ralston at TVNZ, deserves to be acknowledged, too. One of the alleged pack rapists had been promoted to the rank of assistant commissioner of police.
Mrs Nicholas had to tell her story in court, her word against two former policemen and the assistant commissioner. The jury was not allowed to know the first two were already in jail for a similar act. The three were found not guilty beyond reasonable doubt.
She has had to be content with the conviction of Detective Inspector John Dewar, the one she trusted, for perverting the course of justice.
The case has brought to public attention many problems besides the monstrous sexual behaviour of some of those who have worn the police uniform. An inquiry into police handling of sexual complaints has identified necessary improvements.
The information available to juries is under discussion and the low rate of convictions in rape prosecutions is now starkly illustrated.
Louise Nicholas has shattered many of our illusions and we are better for it. She and her family have endured a public ordeal for the sake of truth, justice and human decency and never wavered. She is our New Zealander of the year.
