OPINION: The Issue with Student Democracy
PHOTO: Glen Carrie, Unsplash
As I watched our potential 2027 UCSA Exec members go head-to-head in a battle of wits, Reels, and poster design, I couldn’t help but wonder… what are student associations, and what purpose do they serve? Following that, can student representation make real change? Change that we, as voters, can see and benefit from?
Student associations were born at the UK's Oxbridge universities in the early 19th century and had spread internationally (including at the US' Ivy League colleges and here in NZ) by the late 1800s. Their stated purposes are generally the same: to represent the interests of and provide holistic support to students at their respective universities and colleges.
The UCSA was founded (as the CCSA, or Canterbury College Students Association) in 1894, and the first time that students held an election to determine Executive members was in 1923. Since its inception, it's occupied several buildings, expanded its role to include orientation events, diverse student services, CANTA, and has been part of nearly every student's uni life.
However, for an organisation that takes great care to stress its supporting role in student activism over the years, the UCSA and its operations have recently raised many an eyebrow.
On the ground, I've heard students often wonder what the purpose of Exec elections are, and how it's supposed to benefit us. The UCSA has admittedly been seen more and more as a mouthpiece for the University and its interests (despite its status as an independent entity).
The scrutiny has ramped up in recent years alongside UC's suppression of student protest (especially regarding justice for Palestine). The UCSA has faced its own controversies, largely focused on problems with pay gaps for Māori student representatives from Te Akatoki, complaints against its supposed lack of transparency, and for refusing to take stances that may put it at odds with the current political climate, regardless of whether it benefits students or not.
For example, in a 12 May post to Instagram, four days after the announcement the Fees Free scheme would be scrapped, the UCSA released a statement reiterating its position (or lack thereof) as a non-partisan organisation. It states that it aims to “achieve practical outcomes that benefit your university experience… while recognising that a range of political perspectives are held by all of us.”
The comments show a pretty universal contempt towards the post. In them, students are largely confused as to how the UCSA's neutrality to them getting slapped with thousands of dollars more debt than expected during a cost-of-living crisis is a “practical outcome that benefits [their] university experience.”
Significantly more students vote at UC student elections compared to other Aotearoa universities. We had a 26% turnout in 2024 and a 24% one last year. That might not sound so good, but these numbers dwarf those of other student elections. Last year, Te Herenga Waka Victoria University of Wellington had a 6.5% student election turnout, the University of Auckland had a 10% turnout, and there was only a 13% turnout for Otago's election.
So, why does the UCSA feel unrepresentative of the student voice?
A past UCSA president argues back in those comments that, during his term, he was involved in conversations with MPs and let students' opinions be known as their representative and voice. The same president, in a 2025 piece published by Times Higher Education, said “[student] representative bodies should restrict their activism to issues that directly [affect] students, such as fees, allowances, and classroom supports.”
Hmm.
The S in the UCSA is its raison d'être, in the most literal way possible. Why, then, given the opportunity to take a public stance on the most basic of questions regarding students' rights, does it avoid asserting itself?
Apoliticism is still political. To publicly not take a stance on issues is a choice, and one which the UCSA is now having to answer to. Dame Anne Salmond, in an opinion piece on Newsroom, argues New Zealand is, in fact, swaying towards 'illiberal democracy,' including in academic institutions.
The phrase 'illiberal democracy' was originated by the former prime minister of Hungary, Viktor Orbán, to describe his authoritarian governance, in which, similar to what is happening under the Trump administration, “democratic institutions [are used] to weaken democracy… [including] eliminat[ing] the constitutionally guaranteed autonomy of universities, along with their teachers and students.”
Salmond argues that leanings towards this ethos are visible in David Seymour's 'Victim of the Day' campaign, which targeted and ridiculed individual academics who criticised his Regulatory Standards Bill, and ACT's attacks against UoA's Waipapa Taumata Rau courses, 'misrepresented as Treaty courses.'
We are not at the level of either Orbán or Trump's academic suppression, but we are, Salmond argues, potentially set on course to tip over into it. If universities cannot criticise the government without fear of both personal retribution and more general repercussions (funding cuts, curtailed academic freedoms), who can?
Obviously, there's a certain irony in that I'm writing from CANTA, the UCSA's own magazine (though we do have editorial independence from them), but these points of criticism are not solely my own; I've seen and heard echoes of these sentiments across campus, from students of every discipline, ideology, and political lean. There's no easy answer. Representative bodies can never please everyone, from institutional to international scales. But they can, one would hope, try.