Tapu Misa: Porn king could learn much from tangi on the mountain

It seems wrong to think of a funeral as an uplifting and unifying experience, especially when it is that of a beloved figure like Te Ariki Dame Te Atairangikaahu, but so it has been.

This past week, as Dame Te Ata has lain in state at Turangawaewae, we have been afforded a rare glimpse of ourselves as a nation, and it's not half bad. In fact, it's been good for the soul to see us on our best behaviour. From gang members to MPs, we have seen ourselves at our unified, dignified best.

Watching news coverage of the burial, I found myself envying those who were there, and agreeing with absolutely everyone. Yes, even National's PC monitor, Wayne Mapp, who took the words out of my mouth when he said that Dame Te Ata's funeral had engendered a great sense of unity, not just for Maori but for the whole nation.

I know that for Dame Te Ata's family and friends, this must be an intensely sad time. But such is The Lady's influence that even in death, or perhaps especially in death, she has been able to bring us together.

A nation barely aware of Dame Te Ata's existence has learned not only about a Maori leader who personified dignity, grace and humility, but also about the Kingitanga movement, a piece of our history that few of us knew. (Blame the education system for that. I do.)

It has been, as many have said, an extraordinary week. Despite whisperings of discord on the choice of a successor to Dame Te Ata, we have seen how pan-tribal accord can work. The unanimous decision to anoint her eldest son, Tuheitia, was made without rancour or a loss of dignity. And we have been promised more such unity.

Tainui, so often the butt of negative coverage, showed strength and hospitality, welcoming, hosting and feeding tens of thousands of visitors from around the country.

The news media, so often slapped around for focusing only on bad Maori news, gave Te Ata's life and final journey to Taupiri mountain the attention it deserved, the big guns from both TV3 and TV One news networks getting up close and personal in Ngaruawahia, and revelling in the contact.

"It's been amazing ... a privilege ... very humbling," said TVNZ's Simon Dallow.

It was, someone said, a good day to be Maori. Aye, and a good day to be a New Zealander, too.

On Maori TV, one kuia thanked the media for showing the world the life and love of a beautiful woman, and the strength and beauty of a culture.

Indeed. Those of us who cared to watch saw a vibrant culture, its spirituality and rituals investing the occasion with meaning and dignity. As Tainui Stephens wrote in the Weekend Herald, "The rituals of our culture are a vital part of what we do. We know from long experience that there is a reason for every custom and every protocol. It's all been designed so that you have to acquire a few years of life under your belt before you can see the point of the rules. And the point of the rules is to bring peace within yourself, between others and amongst the many dimensions of life and death that make up the fabric of our humanity."

Perhaps everyone got the point, because I heard not a single complaint about the length of the speeches, or the seating arrangements, or the prayers.

We get so little opportunity in the media to talk about virtue. But Dame Te Ata reminds us that service, dignity, humility and honour are virtues to be treasured in a leader, and that respect isn't about being politically correct. It is about acknowledging the mana of others, and honouring relationships.

Somehow, everyone at Turangawaewae seemed to know that.

Which brings me, in a roundabout way, to Steve Crow, the promoter of the Boobs on Bikes parade planned in Queen St today. Where Dame Te Ata lifts us up, Mr Crow does his best to pull us down.

If Auckland had a moral tone, Mr Crow would be the one lowering it. But of course, Auckland has no moral tone because morality, as everyone knows, is a deeply unfashionable concept these days. Unlike pornography and prostitution, which seem to be gaining in respectability.

Mr Crow is a purveyor of porn, or erotica as he prefers to call it, and as he well knows, there is no morality in the marketplace, only supply and demand. As some of you may recall, he is the same fellow who, in 2002, had the brilliant idea of filming a woman giving birth for a porn movie.

Mr Crow has since graduated to erotica shows, promoted by topless parades, apparently held without undue fuss or attention since 2003, but which now has some Auckland City Councillors in a bit of lather. Auckland Mayor Dick Hubbard has labelled him egotistical and self-promoting, which is neither unlawful nor that unusual in Auckland. And fellow councillor Cathy Casey has condemned the parade for promoting an event that exploits women, which, again, isn't exactly unlawful.

Mr Crow thinks the council should go to hell. Baring one's breasts in public is perfectly legal and, as far as he's concerned, he's not only promoting his adult entertainment wares, but making an important social statement. Highlighting the illegality of discriminating against women going topless is just his way of being civic-minded.

My problem is that it is rude. I'm talking here about civility, not the sight of bare breasts. If most breastfeeding mums know that it's a good idea to feed discreetly in public spaces, why shouldn't porn queens learn similar restraint? Must we always require laws to enforce acceptable behaviour in public places? Must we have a judge decide where Mr Crow's right to promotion ends and others' right to enjoy public spaces begins?

The mayor feels a bylaw coming on, which is a pity. Before legal prohibition, we had an informal social consensus to mediate our behaviour in public. Boring social conventions they were, and so informal they were invisible to Mr Crow. But as with those rituals in Maori society, they too had a point.