Hubert Witheford, an on-again, off-again New Zealander comes close in his poem On the Tree of Knowledge:
As richly as an apple is defined
Behind the leaves that falter in the wind
Sometimes the hand or quietened glance can touch,
Beyond the wavering surface of the world
Or agitated foliage of the mind,
Some fact. Heavy and hard and round.
Cool solace stems from that rich hanging down,
An apprehension, clear and sensual,
Ever withheld amid the vast unreal.
Let words, let petals fall;
From far ahead and from the past recalled
Now, in this space, the feel of truth commands.
That's all that we can expect - if not the truth then at least the feel of it amid the vast unreal that is the orange man and the ever internationally expanding walls of rhetoric.
The feel of truth that might be counter-intuitive; the weighing in on the 300 years of civic literacy that has taught us how to consider an argument before burning anyone at the stake.
When Whaea Google can be asked anything by anyone, the need to pass on knowledge lessens and the skills to critically and creatively read texts and society and indeed, people, become vital.
The need to really interrogate data, and by that I mean a veritable water-boarding of statistics and press statements, is critical.
In our own pre-election, post-truth we need to be able to really ask what is meant by "not privatising water" when we already peppercorn rent it to multi-national companies.
Does a housing crisis disappear if you make the Ministry of Housing disappear?
If you change the standard for "swimmable water" does that mean the water is actually swimmable or does it just make everyone feel better while getting sicker?
If we have educational equity in NZ why are there children in decile one with no maths or science teachers doing everything by correspondence yet are attending school full time?
Again, in a post-education world, what are physical schools for again and what should be in that kete that we pass down?
