OPINION
What would an All Blacks team look like if we didn’t select any players with an alleged history of violence towards women? I couldn’t tell you as I can’t remember a squad without at least one athlete with a dubious past. No convictions, though – we make sure of that. Second chances come freely if you’re a man who can run and tackle well.
Judges around the motu moonlight as All Blacks selectors. The future is deemed more relevant than the past that has led these players to their courtrooms. At the moment of reckoning, the right to pull on a black jersey is deemed sacrosanct. New Zealand Rugby is trusted to be the most effective rehabilitation programme for these men. What our wider society could gain from the lives changed in rugby’s changing rooms is limited because the sport would rather not talk about it.
The All Blacks will tell us that they have a “No Dickhead Policy” while they continue to select them. With this persistent number of troubled men in our national team, it should be expected that we have All Blacks alumni who continue to enact violence. They weren’t held accountable for their actions on their pathway into one of our society’s most revered roles. So it stands to reason that they have not yet learnt about consequences to actions.
The tales of their disgrace are run alongside a list of their achievements. The same achievements that the lack of earlier intervention gave them access to. So on his worst day, we will still hear all about the best things he’s ever done and skim over the worst thing that ever happened to her. He may be smiling from your child’s bedroom wall while she becomes another statistic.
It is true that sport has been a great redeemer for many. A teacher of life skills, a healthy outlet, a place to practise self-discipline. It would be easier to believe in rugby’s power for change if they chose to wield it more freely. Not just for the talented individual but for our society’s greater good. They could perhaps start by mentioning violence against women outside of the press conference called after rugby’s latest incident.
Two years ago, Alice Snedden raised with Mark Robinson the idea of an All Black-fronted anti-domestic violence campaign. She challenged him on the way New Zealand Rugby has treated women. Robinson told her to check in with him, within five years, to discuss progress. He’ll be able to report that New Zealand Rugby has since elected a woman as chair of its board and finally reached the 40 per cent gender representation quota. Robinson can also tell her that the All Blacks quickly recalled a player after an apologetic court appearance over an act of violence against a woman.
We know that people are in part products of their environments. Imagine, then, if New Zealand Rugby’s highest-performing ones had zero tolerance towards violence against women. If New Zealand Rugby chose to reckon with the true transformative power of its black jersey, beyond the select few who are lucky enough to wear it.
None of us are entirely good or entirely bad. The best we can hope for is to attempt to move through the world without causing harm. If we do, though, we must name and own our actions. Lay bare our failings, our attempts at atonement and face the inevitable consequence to uphold the social contract.
Rugby contracts should never help people sidestep this process. If they do, none of us will ever truly be redeemed.