'What needs protecting?': Researcher questions purpose of English Language Bill

A researcher and computational linguist says the government's push to make English an official language raises a question of "what exactly is English being protected from?".

English is spoken by more than 96 percent of New Zealanders and dominates public life, media, schools, government institutions and workplaces across Aotearoa.

Parliament is now considering the English Language Bill, a five-line piece of legislation introduced as part of New Zealand First's coalition agreement with National and ACT.

The bill would formally recognise English as an official language alongside te reo Māori and New Zealand Sign Language.

Te reo Māori was made an official language in 1987, followed by New Zealand Sign Language in 2006.

New Zealand First leader Winston Peters has described it as a "common sense idea", saying it corrects an "anomaly" where English is widely used but not formally recognised in legislation.

"The bill does not diminish the status of other official languages, te reo Māori and New Zealand Sign Language, but rather complements them, acknowledging the linguistic reality of our nation," Peters said during the bill's first reading.

Dr Sidney Wong, a post-doctoral researcher at Te Pūnaha Matatini and computational linguist based at the University of Otago, said English already functions as Aotearoa's dominant language without legal recognition.

"English is already the de facto language, it's already the dominant language," Wong told RNZ.

"When we talk about protection, it's really about legal recognition."

Countries such as Australia and the United Kingdom also operate with English as a de facto national language without formally stating it in law.

Wong said official language status was historically used to support or revitalise languages at risk.

"So particularly within an official language context, that provides legislative protection. So that's funding," he said.

"We think about te reo Māori and New Zealand Sign Language, the reason why there was a push was because there's this need for language revitalisation that wouldn't happen without legislative backing.

"That's when we say English doesn't need protecting. It means that it is not endangered in any sense."

Wong said the bill did not clearly identify what practical issue it was attempting to solve.

"But also, they have not identified what needs protecting," he said.

He said if the legislation aimed to specifically support New Zealand English, which includes its unique use of Māori and Pacific words, there could have been opportunities to invest in language technologies or research.

"At the moment, most of the systems, particularly AI systems, large language models, aren't designed for us [New Zealanders]," Wong said. "How many of us have had very frustrating experiences with talking to Alexa or something, and it's not being recognised?"

Wong described the legislation as "largely symbolic".

"What is it? They keep using the word virtue signal, and that's exactly what this bill is."

Politicians on both sides of the debate of the bill have accused the other of "virtue signalling".

In Parliament, Peters said that: "This bill won't solve the push of this virtue signalling narrative completely, but it is the first step towards ensuring logic and common sense prevails when the vast majority of New Zealanders communicate in English and understand English in a country that should use English as its primary and official language."

Te reo Māori advocate and ReoPol managing director Dr Vincent Olsen-Reeder (Tauranga Moana, Te Arawa) told RNZ it was unusual for English-speaking countries to formally legislate English as an official language.

"It's very unusual for an English-speaking country like New Zealand to have English as an official language, because there's no reason to do it," Olsen-Reeder said.

"It's empty legislation. So legally, it won't do anything."

Olsen-Reeder said he was concerned "symbolic language legislation" could still shape public attitudes toward te reo Māori and other languages.

"That will definitely bolster opinions from outlier opinions in society about prohibition and banning of te reo Māori for sure," he said.

Wong said he was concerned the legislation and broader "English-first" branding changes across the public service could carry social and political consequences.

"It does set quite a dangerous precedent," he said.

Under coalition agreements, government agencies have shifted toward prioritising English names ahead of te reo Māori branding.

Peters has said that the rise in te reo Māori has "has created situations that encourage misunderstanding and confusion for all, and all for the purpose to push a narrative".

"We have some very real situations now where communications and names of important services are using te reo as primary names and language, and the room for confusion and miscommunication is huge."

He cited the possibility of confusion where places have had primary names in Māori.

"First responders, on their vehicles and in communications, being unable to get to places because they don't know where they're going; transport services with important road signs - they have all announced that."

Wong questioned claims that increased visibility of te reo Māori was causing widespread confusion among the public.

"There's no evidence to suggest people are confused," he said.

"Being multilingual is actually the default," he said.

He referenced Canada as an example of a country with bi-lingual branding.

"It's side to side, so it's English, besides French, the fact that there's been making a concerted effort to make it English above te reo Māori ... if that's not a metaphor for something, I don't know what is."

Wong grew up speaking Cantonese and English, and said learning te reo Māori had deepened his understanding of Aotearoa and his place within it as tauiwi.

"I cherish my experience growing up as tauiwi in Aotearoa and it's a privilege to be tauiwi here," he said.

"For me, learning te reo Māori has become not a moral obligation, but actually just being human."

He said language was tied closely to identity, culture, and belonging.

"When you're learning language, it's not just structures, it's also about the culture behind it," Wong said.

"Language and culture and people are interlinked; you can't separate them."

Wong said he worried debates around the bill risked causing division at a time when many people were increasingly engaging with te reo Māori.

Across Aotearoa, demand for wānanga reo and Māori language classes continues to grow, while kōhanga reo and kura kaupapa Māori often face long waiting lists.

"For a lot of migrants coming into Aotearoa, it makes sense not only to learn English, but also te reo Māori," Wong said.

"You want to understand the land and the people more."

He said the wider question was what kind of country Aotearoa wanted to become.

"Is this the legacy that the government wants to leave?" Wong said.

"Are they going to look back at this and think that we've done what we need to do to make Aotearoa a great place for people to feel included and have a sense of belonging? Because I don't think so."

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