Every field has its buzzwords. Education is no different. One that you’ll hear frequently is ‘critical thinking.’ Indeed, in a downloadable poster explaining the 2026 Standards for the Teaching Profession,  the Teaching Council of Aotearoa New Zealand, expects teachers to “Enable learners to be active participants in their learning” so that they can develop critical thinking. At Manukau Christian School, we seek to train up responsible and courageous disciples of Christ who seek to apply his kingship to all of life. So for us, it’s obvious that the end product of 13 years of education should be a young man or woman capable of self-governance who is able to discern wisely how to act and think.

But how are we to train up our students in this essential skill if teachers risk professional consequences for engaging in critical thinking themselves?

Let me share with you a somewhat disturbing insight into how viewpoint discrimination occurs in New Zealand education. Earlier this year, before we had received our final ERO report, I took a phone call from a woman (whom I choose not to name) who works in the Education Review Office. The call left me wondering how much room there really is for critical thinking in our profession.

As part of its review of our school, ERO had checked out our website. A couple of articles I had authored apparently concerned them. One questioned whether students expressing conservative views about politics and family should be labelled extremists. The other challenged the place of Treaty obligations in school governance and supported the Government’s proposed changes.

The woman told me that ERO had concerns about these articles and had consulted the Teaching Council about them. The Teaching Council had apparently told her that in the absence of a complaint they would take no action. Nevertheless, she pointed out that these articles placed me at risk. References to professional standards and registration were made as well as broader risks to the school.

Naturally, I wanted to know exactly what the problem was. Which parts of the articles were concerning? What, specifically, had I written that might put my professional standing at risk? The articles in my mind seemed tame and non-inflammatory – to be sure they went against the majority view in education circles, but we believe in critical thinking in education, right? She declined to explain. I also asked whether the people expressing the opposing views who I was responding to would raise the same concerns from ERO. She declined to comment on that too.

Now, I am quite happy for someone to challenge what I write. I believe that iron sharpens iron. Show me where my facts are wrong. Challenge my argument. Explain why my conclusions don’t follow. That is how discussion should work. That is called critical thinking, and I’m all for it.  

But that was not what happened in this conversation. No particular error or breach of a professional standard was identified. Instead, I was left with the impression that expressing these views could put my livelihood, and the school, at risk.

It was not an explicit instruction to take the articles down. But it came across to me as a veiled threat. And it left me asking: how many teachers, receiving a call like that, would simply decide it was wiser to keep their heads down and toe the majority line.

I immediately contacted the Free Speech Union, setting out what had happened and asking whether this was normal or appropriate. Their assessment was that signalling professional risk over lawful speech, without identifying a specific breach or explaining the concern, was an inappropriate use of regulatory authority. They also considered that my account raised significant concerns about freedom of expression and possible viewpoint discrimination. Their advice was to document the conversation and leave the articles up.

This matters to me because I want our students to be critical thinkers. I want them to question the status quo. I want them to have the courage to challenge bad ideas and promote what is good and true and will benefit our communities and nation. I want them to live in a country where they have the freedom to express their opinion without the threat of losing their livelihoods.

I have the joy of teaching our Year 12 students a course in which we examine the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990. Section 13 protects freedom of thought, conscience, religion and belief; section 14 protects freedom of expression; and section 19 protects against discrimination on the grounds set out in the Human Rights Act 1993, including religious belief and political opinion. These freedoms are supposed to have real implications for how public authorities treat people.

We need to resist the creeping intolerance that turns professional registration into a tool for enforcing approved opinions. Thankfully it appears this problem has not gone unnoticed. The Free Speech Union is campaigning for legislative reform in this area, supporting a proposed Regulated Professions Neutrality Bill. This would aim at stopping professional bodies from disciplining people simply for expressing lawful opinions and require regulators to remain neutral on contentious political and ideological issues. This is exactly the sort of protection we need.

At MCS, we walk quite a different path to much of the educational establishment. Yet our results speak for themselves, and parents are often desperate to secure a place for their children. We think that part of the reason for our success is because we think critically about education. We are not interested in simply following the latest educational fashions or adopting prevailing ideological positions without questioning them. We believe that education should prioritise the pursuit of truth and the development of young people who can think and act wisely. We are willing to question educational orthodoxies and pursue what we believe is best for our students, even when that goes against the grain.

And this brings me back to where I began. We want to develop responsible and courageous disciples of Christ who are prepared to stand up for what is true and good. But that requires us, as teachers and educational leaders, to demonstrate the same responsibility and courage. We must be willing to question accepted thinking, defend our convictions and engage openly with those who disagree. That is the sort of education we want to provide, and the sort of freedom we ought to defend.