NZ almost enacts eugenic sterilisation
The nation made an important moral decision 90 years ago.
They capitulated over breakfast. It was 1928 and New Zealand politicians were debating one of the great moral issues facing the nation. Should Parliament give a small committee of bureaucrats and doctors the power to sterilise the ‘‘feeble-minded, the ‘‘unfit’’, ‘‘degenerates’’, ‘‘imbecile children’’ and those with ‘‘mental defects’’?
It was and is called ‘‘eugenic sterilisation’’ and proponents believed their cause was noble – to improve the human condition by encouraging the ‘‘right people’’ to have more children and the ‘‘wrong people’’ to have none.
But buried within were notions that some lives were worthier than others and that the powerful could make these decisions for the weak.
A law authorising eugenic sterilisation was almost passed by New Zealand’s Parliament 90 years ago.
The ‘‘eugenic sterilisation law had broad support among the country’s politicians, medics, the judiciary, several women’s organisations and academics,’’ writes Dr Hamish Spencer in a 2018 book on the subject.
‘‘This support would have been sufficient to gain parliamentary approval had the government pushed the issue slightly harder.’’
Spencer, a University of Otago geneticist who has long been a critic of eugenics, co-edited and contributed a chapter to Eugenics At The Edges Of Empire, which examines the movement in New Zealand, Australia, Canada and South Africa.
Until recently, the conventional view was that eugenics fell on stoney ground in New Zealand and then was completely discredited by the Holocaust, Spencer said in an interview. While there are elements of truth to this narrative, the books shows eugenics was a closer run thing in New Zealand.
In the 1920s, politics and morality lined up differently than today. On one hand, eugenics was ‘‘one of the most prominent progressive movements’’ of the early 20th century, Spencer writes in his chapter, Eugenic Sterilisation In New Zealand: The Story Of The Mental Defectives Amendment Act Of 1928.
On the other hand, ‘‘enthusiasts could be found across the ideological spectrum’’, Spencer and his co-editors write in the introduction to the book.
In New Zealand, the philosophy was broadly supported by luminaries such as Sir Frederic Truby King, the founder of Plunket; and Ma¯ ui Po¯ mare, who earned a medical degree in 1899 in the United States and who, as New Zealand’s minister of health between 1923 and 1926, commissioned the report that directly led to the 1928 bill.
On the other hand, eugenics were opposed by many Catholics on moral grounds. Many farmers supported eugenics, largely because they were using similar principles to improve livestock.
Debate raged up and down the country, in pubs, churches and newspapers, Spencer writes.
Against this backdrop, the Reform Party Government introduced the Mental Defectives Amendment Act in 1928.
Much of the bill was uncontroversial, including clauses that re-organised mental health institutions.
Others caused acrimony. Clause 7 expanded the definition of a ‘‘mentally defective person’’ to include ‘‘social defectives’’. Clause 11 created a eugenics board. Clause 15 compelled the director of
education to furnish the names of mentally defective children to the board.
Clause 21 prohibited the marriage of people registered with the board. Clause 25 authorised the board to sterilise those registered.
In July 1928, during the legislation’s first reading in the House, Peter Fraser – later to become the health minister in the first Labour Government – supported most of the bill but decried ‘‘all sorts of wild theory in regard to eugenics’’.
At the bill’s second reading in the House, later in July, Labour leader Harry Holland argued the science of eugenics was uncertain and would be ‘‘inefficient’’ in changing the gene pool.
The bill’s sponsor, Reform Party MP and then-health minister Alexander Young, mostly stood by sterilisation, although he equivocated too.
By September 1928, the bill had come back from committee with some amendments – ovariectomies joined castration on the list of forbidden procedures – but still authorised sterilisation (by vasectomy or tubal ligation).
Over September 25 to 26 of that year, MPs pulled an all-nighter debating the bill, especially its eugenic components.
During the night, the Government announced voting was subject to the whip – meaning it was no longer a conscience vote.
At 7am, an adjournment was taken and in a back room somewhere – probably over breakfast – the Government withdrew Clauses 21 (prohibiting marriage) and 25 (authorising sterilisation).
The Opposition was still furious and demanded a change to the definition of mentally defective person in Clause 7.
This and other amendments were defeated and the bill passed about 1.30pm. It soon passed by the Upper House and got royal assent in October 1928. But sterilisation was out.
The Reform Party, which leaned conservative and later became the National Party, probably could have pushed the eugenic clauses through Parliament. Why didn’t it, asks Spencer.
He notes that four key MPs voted for an amendment to delay implementation of the bill. They were Joseph Ward, George Forbes, Michael Joseph Savage and Peter Fraser. These men were the next four New Zealand prime ministers, ruling successively from December 1928 until late 1949. In retrospect, their influence was already apparent.
Spencer also notes the impending election in December
1928 probably steered Reform members away from controversy.
There’s another aspect of the book worth mentioning – race.
Kiwi eugenists ‘‘did not target the indigenous population’’, the coeditors state in their introduction. ‘‘No New Zealand eugenist in the
1920s, when enthusiasm peaked, ever advocated sterilisation, segregation or marriage restriction for Ma¯ ori or mixedrace New Zealanders,’’ they wrote.
The country’s eugenists did target Asians, however. This was largely done through immigration restrictions and similar measures rather than sterilisation.
It’s also worth noting that eugenic sterilisation did occur in New Zealand. The authors turned up evidence of a 22-year-old Taranaki women who was sterilised in the 1920s or 30s. And a number of boys were sterilised at Burnham Industrial School in the
1920s.
There were probably more, Spencer said in the interview. But the files are locked away in Archives NZ on privacy grounds and special permission is needed to access them.