In a world beset by a global pandemic, a dose of sporting kotahitanga has been welcome over the past fortnight in Tokyo.
Kayaker Lisa Carrington, now on a plinth as the country's most decorated Olympian, referenced the term as part of her gold medal banquet.
Best translated into Englishas unity or solidarity, the concept has also captured the national mood as a flock of New Zealanders migrated to their televisions and devices to watch compatriots secure a bullion record of 20 medals. The previous best haul was 18 at Rio.
Yet this was more about the quality of the team's overall performance than the quantity of gongs.
Full Kiwi schedule below. Click on a name to see athlete's bio, upcoming events, past Games performance and medal chance.
Yes, the latter have a bearing on funding and livelihoods but the way those selected competed in trying circumstances was just as nourishing for viewers "snacking on content", to use the current media industry parlance.
In fact, aside from an anonymous witness alleging the first charter flight home got a tad rowdy, it's hard to recall a public relations blemish, even in the face of adversity.
Tom Walsh could have thrown his toys - and a fair distance, too - when he teetered on the cusp of elimination in the shot put qualification. Instead, he reasoned with officials like a Nobel peace prize laureate to ensure his survival.
Laurel Hubbard, after months of conjecture over her role as a transgender weightlifter, spoke eloquently and dispassionately about her Games experience after getting eliminated in the snatch phase of the 87kg+ class.
Tim Price dropped out of medal contention in the denouement to the three-day event, but resisted blaming his mount Vitali who had a long face after clattering several showjumping rails.
Athletes regularly offered more than the stultifying "trusted our processes, blah, blah, the group took plenty of learnings (sic), blah, blah, and we'll work on this going forward".
Multiple examples of vivacity or poignancy deserved applause.
The Olympic champion in this genre was probably sevens gold medallist Ruby Tui. Her off-field performances epitomised hard case, especially in a viral BBC effort where a slew of social media judges gave her a 10/10.
Today's more tolerant landscape, where less scorn is dished out to quivering upper lips, brought added empathy to the athlete-media mixed zone. The likes of triathlete Hayden Wilde, rower Emma Twigg, trampolinist Dylan Schmidt, cyclist Ellesse Andrews and boxer David Nyika all conveyed candour.
Many spoke of a team culture valuing inclusivity and diversity, perhaps a microclimate for the aspirations of the country as a whole. That also reflected in the sports where medals were secured. Nine of the 20 – more than ever before – came in teams of two or more people. In addition, a number of individual athletes spoke about tight-knit entourages who had helped fulfil sporting dreams.
Gone are the days when the country relied on middle-distance running or the sitting-down era of equestrian, sailing, rowing and canoeing to reach the podium. This time new frontiers were pioneered via sevens, tennis doubles, trampolining and cycling's omnium for the men and rowing's singles sculls and eight, canoeing's K2 500, and cycling's keirin for the women.
Track and field athletes Hamish Kerr, Maddison-Lee Wesche and Julia Ratcliffe, weightlifter David Liti, diver Anton Down-Jenkins, mountain biker Anton Cooper, kayakers Max Brown and Kurtis Imrie and swimmers Lewis Clareburt and Erika Fairweather also injected top-10 performances in their maiden Games.
On the face of it, #earnthefern initially seemed a glib marketing tool to tap into blind patriotism, but the New Zealand team's performance and commitment gave the slogan substance. They have delivered excellence in talk and deed.