The strange and secretive community of Gloriavale often bursts into the news. On occasion for good reason, such as when its leader Hopeful Christian, was convicted of indecently assaulting three girls and young women aged between 12 and 19 in the 1980s, but other times simply because they are, well, strange and secretive.

Having visited twice I can attest that the place is indeed mighty strange. Wonderfully interesting: in parts deeply troubling and in others incredibly admirable. Like all societies it’s nuanced. You wouldn’t know that from much of the reporting of the place. And this morning’s effort in The Christchurch Press is a terrific example.

The story leads with the accusation that men are “groomed” to have sex with underage girls. Yet in the next breath it goes on to report that underage sex is “not rampant” and occurs only in isolated cases.

One might question how that differs from mainstream society but of greater concern: when does a single source, without objective evidence – in this instance a disgruntled former community member who has had nothing to do with Gloriavale for 30 years – have an undisputed word on any subject? Nicky Hager would kill for that privilege. Bloody hell, even Eleanor Catton was cut down in certain quarters for having a differing view to that of the prevailing norm. 

This is not a defence of the place. I find the mere fact of indoctrinating kids to gain truth from a man in the sky and a confused and contradictory book an abomination, but I do believe in balance and a critical mind that at least considers cultural relativism.

John Key will surely agree. He’s in Saudi Arabia making trade deals with a country that engages in terrible acts of violence and misogyny. We are not writing that place off like we do Gloriavale. (Coincidently it was the Christian community’s industry that impressed me most, they were among the first to use a floating dairy platform to milk cows, for instance). Yip, they are incredibly severe on those who leave the flock. The Saudi’s, that is – the punishment for apostasy in that country is death.

Parts of what happen within the West Coast community, quite openly and without secret are at face value troubling. Adults who don’t hide from children while having sex surely creases all but the most liberal of brows. As The Press reported, those in Gloriavale are not taught that parents having sex is “gross”. I’m among those who have been taught those sexual more are gross but if I were to find a culture somewhere in the world that saw sex among a committed adult relationship as an open and beautiful thing that isn’t kept secret within the family home I wouldn’t die of disgust.

Still, the paper did report being told that one member of the community who left went off the rails and ended up as a stripper! Temper your shock at that unique social occurrence, the stripper was never interviewed and may very well not exist. And neither might the sexual abuse at the heart of the story. There are exactly zero complainants. Not a single one.

‘Let he without sin cast the first stone’ proves there are some things to be learned from the Bible. That’s considerably more that I can say about The Press this morning.

In a scathing commentary, prominent University of Otago academic Bryce Edwards wrote in The New Zealand Herald that there were serious failings with the New Zealand police. Police commissioner Mike Bush responded in the same medium with vitriol saying Edwards was out of touch and wrong.

So, what’s the truth?

Edwards took his concern from a number of high-profile police errors, including the ‘Roast Busters’ issue, the Urewera Raids and several troubling convictions and cases.

These are not just Edwards’ concerns, they are problems reported by many including an important report by Dame Margaret Bazley as well as the Privy Council. For my money, he could have focused on one specific example: a swab of David or Robin Bain’s hands and arms for gunshot residue would have concluded one of the country’s most recent ‘whodunnits’. That one test was not done and it has cost the country justice (and millions of dollars).

At times, though, Edwards drew a long bow and one might argue that his tenor was overly harsh. Certainly, he used some data he shouldn’t have, most specifically his use of a phone-in TV3 poll was astonishing. That’s about as scientific as the Bible.

Commissioner Bush did, then, have some ground to play with. A right of reply was called for and given. The police have made noteworthy improvements in certain areas, some of which I spoke of when reviewing the Louise Nicholas book for Metro.

Yet Bush didn’t play the argument, he played the man. He said that Edwards should get on the police front line, as if somehow this is a panacea to all the concerns raised. It’s that smug response – if only you could see through our eyes you’d see we’re right – that goes a long way to proving Edwards’ point. Bush rounds off his response by suggesting that Edwards might be among a 'minority who just don’t like police'. The implication being that if you criticise us you’re against us. Ugh.

This undeniably ingrained culture of us versus them is a real failing of the police. And Bush is happy to ignore certain failings. In April 2013, at the funeral of Detective Inspector Bruce Hutton (who planted a bullet to secure a conviction against Arthur Allan Thomas), Bush said that the crooked cop had  ‘integrity beyond reproach’. If Bush accepts that, then I’m afraid he’s not the right man to judge the uprightness of the police.

Neither the funeral statement nor the response to Edwards’ concerns were off-the-cuff. They were deliberate and considered statements. This speaks to a problem of culture that I call "Blue Vision" in Patched. Blue vision creates myths and an inability to look past prevailing views that can lead to negative policing and injustice.

Notwithstanding that, Bush, who has done much fine work, made some strong arguments, notably that the rank and file 'make difficult decisions every day while displaying courage and resilience'. And as somebody who has been on the front line with police, I recognise this. I genuinely respect the coppers I know (even when we disagree).

The world that the police see is often far removed from that which most understand from a privileged middle class position (like my own). Being spat at and abused is a terrible occupational hazard.

I think we should be proud of the New Zealand Police for the most part. Professor Greg Newbold has spoken about a lament in the underworld that cops don’t take bribes. This is important. Organised crime is reliant on a crooked police force, and the fact we see so few examples of it is a credit to a laudable integrity.

The many ways in which the police are great, though, is largely beside the point. There is an internal culture that without doubt needs correcting. Edwards has done well to illuminate this. Bush did nothing to counter it – everything is fine it seems, and therein lies the problem. As an academic, a member of the fraternity that acts as a critic and conscience of society (as outlined in the Education Act), Dr Bryce Edwards did his job. The fact that the police failed to counter his concerns in a meaningful way is the real concern here. We ought demand better. In this instance, at least, those hard-working cops working under Commissioner Mike Bush deserve better. And so does the country.

Given a couple of drinks, a microphone and a large, seated audience one evening in 2013 I ranted and raved before concluding that I’d punch a prominent TV cook in the pavlova. Those with a memory for matters of little consequence will recall my nemesis that night was Annabel Langbein.

While a worthy adversary, I quickly realised I had a much less impressive cook as a nemesis: Steve Braunias.

Like many, I initially knew of Braunias through his page in The Listener. It was brilliant. I had no reason to do anything but enjoy him until he and I were finalists for best non fiction book at the New Zealand book awards.

He Tweeted, so I believe (I wasn’t on Twitter at the time), that my book was “scarcely readable”. My editor told me it was probably tongue-in-cheek. But full of booze I bristled when I met him on the night of the awards. I liked the bastard immediately.

Apparently that night he Tweeted that I was a ‘good cunt’. Surely the best thing he’s ever written. The latter of those words I borrowed to describe Cameron Slater on the night of the last Canon Media Awards, albeit it with a different emphasis. The man is a master of satire. Braunias, that is, not Slater: he’s a master of fuck all.

I’ve heard that Braunias got fired from a rag for calling somebody a cunt. Whether or not that’s true, all of us should aspire to that.

As you might have guessed, he won best non-fiction book. And despite my chest thumping that evening, I was privileged to be in his company. But I’m not even the best writer in my relationship, so that gives things perspective.

Then Braunias did something special, and by that I mean something I was immediately jealous of. A brilliant series detailing the 2014 election campaign. The most believable stuff he invented, the rest was pure gold. It struck a cord with everyone, except publishers. Nobody wanted the book he wrote. Ha!

At that point, you might think I would be celebrating the misfortune of my nemesis, that slightly misshapened-faced man named Steven Braunias. I was not. The bugger just up and published it himself. The thing made the bestseller list and is now on its fourth print run and undoubtedly entertaining people up and down the land.

Madman: Inside the Weirdest Election Ever may be better than anything I ever do, almost certainly anything better than anything you’ll bloody do, and possibly better than all things our kids will do. That and he did it all in a matter of weeks. Fuck Braunias the talented cunt, I can’t help but love him.

Fuck me. 

I'm arrogant enough to expect awards for damn near anything I do, but I couldn't be more surprised or more pleased to be a finalist in the Canon Media Awards for best blog.

I started this blog to practice writing while I research a book on murder. I wanted to get better at the craft. Less wordy. I have a tendency to be wordy.

I'm up against Steve Braunias for the award. Last time that happened, this happened. I have apologised to those involved.

And last time I was at the Canon Awards things were just as interesting. I bloody love awards ceremonies, they draw from me a delightful madness.

Obviously, I'm now drunk. I see it as a training for sharing a drink with the likes of Fisher, Vance, and Nippet. These and others who are my friends or my heroes. And, of course, Braunias, who is both.