Turning diversity into political capital

As former British colonies, New Zealand, Canada and Australia adopted multiculturalism for complex reasons that served many needs, not all of them altruistic, says political scientist Kathy Smits in her new book.

The Political Uses of Cultural Diversity: The Diversity Dividend (Routledge, 2026) focuses on three countries that share a British imperial past, long histories of colonisation and immigration and diverse contemporary societies.

As a longtime New Zealand citizen, born in Australia, Smits, an associate professor of politics and international relations at the University of Auckland, says her interest in the topic grew from looking at these countries’ history in relation to both their Indigenous people and the immigrants who came after white settlers.

And attending the Shanghai World Expo in 2010 really crystallised her thinking.

“I was struck by how much emphasis there was, in all of these countries’ pavilions, on cultural diversity. And it occurred to me that it was doing a lot of work for these countries; portraying Australia, Canada, and New Zealand in a very particular way, as having a very particular sort of national identity; modern, appealing and internationally focused."

Which led her to the book’s central question: Why have multicultural policies continued to be adopted and pursued, despite political controversy, and what exactly are they achieving for the governments that adopt them?

Smits traces how all three countries moved from 19th and early 20th century policies based on a racial hierarchy that not only favoured white immigrants but specifically excluded others, like the ‘White Australia’ policy and New Zealand’s approach to Chinese migrants, to post war commitments to human rights and multiculturalism.

In the 19th century, she notes, there was a widespread belief among British settlers that Indigenous peoples and their cultures were simply “fading away”.
“This was coupled with classic appropriation of Indigenous cultures for tourism and nation-building, particularly in New Zealand’s ‘Maoriland’ period (1880s to around 1914).

'Maoriland' (without the macron) was a term originating in Australia, but enthusiastically adopted by white colonialists in New Zealand, who wanted to create a distinct regional identity within the British Empire.

“It disappeared by the 1920s,” says Smits, “and it wasn’t until after the Second World War that attitudes to cultural diversity began to change, with an influx of migrants from Europe.”

And at this point, both Australia and New Zealand faced a serious international image problem, she says.

“The way they were seen abroad, if I can sum it up in one word, was racist.”

That reputation, combined with new human rights norms, ideas about decolonisation, and a need to reorient trade and foreign policy towards their own regions, pushed governments to rethink their stance, leading to a wave of immigrants from Asia and the Pacific.

Smits describes this as a “perfect storm” of demographic change, international pressure and economic necessity leading governments to embrace cultural diversity as a defining national feature.

From the 1970s, all three countries officially adopted multiculturalism in different ways.

Policies introduced by left wing or social democratic governments were often consolidated by conservative ones, and Smits argues that both sides of politics came to see diversity as economically useful as well as morally desirable; and a way to gain skilled migrants, international students, tourists and investors.

“Diversity became part of the sales pitch: multilingual, globally connected societies that were welcoming to outsiders.”

She links this to broader neoliberal reforms from the 1980s onwards, particularly in New Zealand, where economic change was “short, sharp, and really dramatic”.

And as the state stepped back from ‘cradle-to-grave’ assistance in the mid-1980s, she argues, Māori concepts such as whanaungatanga (relationship/connection) and kaitiakitanga (guardianship) were increasingly adopted by government institutions as sources of social meaning and cohesion.

These ideas, Smits suggests, were “available to be co-opted” at the same time many people experienced these reforms as alienating and unjust.

She is clear that diversity and recognition of both Indigenous peoples and immigrant communities is the ethically correct stance to take.

However, as a political scientist, she argues citizens should still keep a watchful eye on the way governments use cultural diversity and recognition for their own purposes.

“We should always adopt a bit of a sceptical or questioning view when it comes to state policy. Think of the Latin term cui bono: Who does it benefit?

“Policies and programmes that celebrate diversity, inclusion and recognition can, at the same time, be very useful for governments who want to maintain power and promote their own contentious social and economic agendas.”

Ultimately, says Smits, the book asks some tough questions about how multiculturalism functions within the politics of modern settler societies.

The Political Uses of Cultural Diversity: The Diversity Dividend is open access and available now.