New Zealand First leader Winston Peters has reignited a contentious debate over compulsory cultural training after publicly backing former real estate agent Janet Dickson, whose licence was cancelled after she refused to complete a mandatory professional development course covering Māori culture, te reo Māori and Te Tiriti o Waitangi.

Peters said nobody should lose their livelihood for refusing training they believe is unrelated to their profession, describing Dickson’s situation as an example of cultural compulsion going too far.

His language was characteristically forceful.

But the legal history behind the case is considerably more complicated than the suggestion that a real estate agent was simply “fired” for refusing a tikanga course.

Dickson was a licensed real estate professional regulated under the Real Estate Agents Act. In 2023, the Real Estate Authority required all licensees to complete a 90-minute continuing professional development course called Te Kākano.

Dickson completed her other professional development requirements but deliberately declined to complete Te Kākano because she believed the course conflicted with her personal views and was irrelevant to her work.

That decision triggered a legal and regulatory battle that has now lasted several years.

What actually happened?

The distinction matters.

Dickson was not an employee dismissed by a real estate company.

She was a regulated professional whose licence depended on complying with statutory continuing professional development requirements.

Under the legislation applying at the time, failure to complete those requirements could lead to cancellation of a licence and a lengthy period of ineligibility to return to the profession.

Her case therefore sits at the intersection of several difficult issues.

Issue

The question

Professional regulation

How far can a regulator determine what training licensed professionals must complete?

Cultural competency

Is knowledge of Māori culture and Te Tiriti relevant to real estate work?

Freedom of belief

Should professionals be compelled to attend training they philosophically disagree with?

Freedom of expression

Does compulsory attendance amount to forced acceptance of particular views?

Proportionality

Is losing the ability to practise for years proportionate to missing one CPD course?

Those questions are far more interesting than reducing the dispute to either “wokeness” or “racism”.

The course was 90 minutes long

Te Kākano was a mandatory 90-minute professional development course introduced for real estate licensees in 2023.

It dealt with Māori culture, language and Te Tiriti o Waitangi.

Dickson did not argue that she physically could not attend or complete the course.

She declined as a matter of principle.

She later sought an exemption, arguing among other things that the material conflicted with her personal beliefs and was not relevant to her professional role.

That request was rejected.

The High Court did not accept that the course was unlawful

Dickson subsequently challenged the regulatory framework in the High Court.

In February 2025, the High Court dismissed her judicial review.

The Court found that the Real Estate Authority had acted within its powers when making the course compulsory.

Importantly, the Court also rejected the argument that the course breached Dickson’s freedom of expression.

The Court’s reasoning was essentially that requiring someone to attend professional education does not necessarily require them to personally agree with everything being taught.

It also found a legitimate professional connection between the course and real estate work, particularly when dealing with Māori consumers and meeting professional obligations to act fairly and in good faith.

That finding cuts directly across Peters’ claim that the course had “no relevance” to the job.

He is entitled to argue politically that the course was unnecessary.

But legally, the High Court considered the regulator had sufficient grounds to treat it as relevant professional development.

The latest tribunal decision again went against Dickson

The dispute did not end with the High Court.

On 1 September 2026, the Real Estate Agents Disciplinary Tribunal released another decision concerning Dickson’s attempt to obtain an exemption.

The Tribunal accepted that her objection was sincerely held and that her circumstances were exceptional.

But it ultimately found those circumstances did not prevent her from completing the course.

It also concluded there had been no breach of her rights because although attendance was mandatory, she was not required to adopt the beliefs taught in the course or subsequently behave as though she agreed with them.

Her application was dismissed and the Registrar’s earlier decision was confirmed.

That is important context missing from the social-media version of the story.

Peters is challenging something bigger than one real estate course

Peters’ intervention is clearly about more than Janet Dickson.

His post uses the case to reopen a wider political argument over the place of tikanga Māori, te reo Māori and Te Tiriti-based training in New Zealand institutions.

He described compulsory cultural education as “totalitarianism”, “woke political and cultural correctness” and a “cultural cancer”.

Those are political characterisations, not findings made by any court.

The courts and regulatory bodies considering Dickson’s case have not concluded that she was forced to change her beliefs.

Quite the opposite.

Their position has been that attendance at a professional development course can be required without compelling ideological agreement.

That distinction is central to the debate.

But Peters has a stronger argument on the punishment

There is one aspect of the case where criticism has come not only from NZ First.

The severity of the sanction has also been questioned by the Government.

Associate Justice Minister Nicole McKee publicly said in 2025 that she considered the five-year disqualification for failing to complete CPD disproportionately harsh.

She also said she did not consider the 2023 Te Kākano course sufficiently relevant to the real estate profession and had previously communicated that expectation to the Real Estate Authority.

So two different questions should not be confused.

One is whether the regulator lawfully required the course.

The High Court said yes.

Another is whether the penalty for failing to complete it was excessive.

The Government itself concluded the legislative framework needed changing.

Parliament has since passed the Regulatory Systems (Occupational Regulation) Amendment Act 2026, which reforms parts of the Real Estate Agents Act. Most of the relevant real-estate changes are scheduled to come into force in March 2027.

Is cultural knowledge relevant to selling property?

This is perhaps the question readers will disagree on most strongly.

Peters says the course had nothing to do with real estate.

Supporters of cultural competency training would argue otherwise.

Real estate professionals deal directly with people, land and communities.

New Zealand property transactions can also involve issues relating to Māori land, pronunciation, cultural practices and clients whose expectations may be informed by tikanga.

The High Court accepted that improving understanding of Māori consumers could contribute to fair professional dealings.

But that does not automatically mean every cultural programme designed by a regulator is necessary, effective or appropriately compulsory.

Those are legitimate questions.

A professional regulator should still be expected to explain why mandatory training materially improves professional competence or consumer protection.

There is also a freedom question

Dickson’s supporters see something deeper in the case.

Their concern is not necessarily the subject matter itself.

It is the principle that the state can require a person to attend training touching on culture, political history or contested constitutional ideas as a condition of keeping their professional licence.

That deserves serious discussion.

A free society should be cautious whenever professional regulation moves from technical competency into areas involving beliefs and values.

But compulsory professional education is already common.

Doctors, lawyers, teachers, financial advisers and many other regulated professionals are required to undertake training they may not personally regard as valuable.

The real test therefore cannot simply be whether someone disagrees with the material.

It must be whether the requirement has a defensible connection to professional standards and whether the consequences for non-compliance are proportionate.

The phrase “lost her job” oversimplifies what happened

Peters wrote that Dickson “lost her real estate career” because she refused the course.

There is truth in the practical outcome: she lost the ability to continue practising as a licensed real estate professional.

But describing it as losing a “job” can give the impression that an employer dismissed her for her beliefs.

That is not what occurred.

Her licence was cancelled under the statutory regulatory system after she deliberately declined to meet a CPD requirement.

Whether that regulatory consequence was fair is open to political debate.

How it happened is not.

Why this will become an election issue

The timing of Peters’ intervention is unlikely to be accidental.

New Zealand is approaching an election in which questions involving Māori policy, Te Tiriti, public institutions and cultural requirements are already highly politically charged.

NZ First has repeatedly positioned itself against what it considers ideological or race-based requirements within government and professional institutions.

The Dickson case gives Peters an unusually clear example around which to build that argument.

It involves an identifiable person.

It involves someone’s livelihood.

It involves compulsory training.

And it involves Te Tiriti.

That combination virtually guarantees political attention.

But the debate deserves better than slogans

There are legitimate arguments on both sides.

People can reasonably ask whether a 90-minute course was sufficiently relevant to real estate practice.

They can reasonably question whether losing a professional licence was an excessive consequence.

They can reasonably worry about ideological conformity being imposed through professional regulation.

But others can reasonably argue that cultural competency matters in a profession serving a diverse population and operating in a country where Māori are tangata whenua.

They can also point out that attending training does not mean surrendering the right to disagree with it.

The courts have now repeatedly examined aspects of this dispute, and the decisions are more nuanced than much of the political rhetoric surrounding them.

The real question is where the boundary should sit

Janet Dickson’s case is likely to continue being used as evidence by people on both sides of New Zealand’s cultural debate.

Some will see a professional standing on principle against compelled ideology.

Others will see a regulated professional refusing a legitimate and modest training requirement that applied equally across the industry.

The more useful question sits somewhere in between.

How much power should professional regulators have to decide what licensed people must learn?

How directly must training relate to the work?

When does cultural competency become ideological compulsion?

And even where a requirement is lawful, how severe should the punishment be for refusing it?

Those questions deserve serious answers.

Calling everything “woke” does not provide them.

Nor does dismissing every objection to compulsory cultural education as intolerance.

If New Zealand wants a serious discussion about professional standards, Te Tiriti and freedom of belief, Janet Dickson’s case provides one.

But it should be debated on what actually happened, not simply on whichever political slogan attracts the most attention.

Sources: Winston Peters public statement; High Court of New Zealand; Real Estate Agents Disciplinary Tribunal; New Zealand Government; New Zealand legislation.