At the edge of the universe

Press, 9 August 1980, Page 13

At the edge of the universe

Review

John Collins

The leader of the Christchurch-based organisation, Zenith Applied Philosophy, according to “Eye Witness” (Two, Thursday), thinks his house in Fendalton is the centre of the Universe. This in itself is not unusual enough to warrant a television programme; most people who live in Fendalton think their house is the centre of the Universe.

The Z.A.P. leader was said to style himself John Ultimate, though it was not made ciear whether this was the tribute to the electric iron or to the toaster. We did not actually see Mr Ultimate, but we had lots of shots of the outside of the centre of the Universe, particularly its one-way windows through which we could not see but through which, we were told, Mr Ultimate might be watching us at that very moment, if in fact he was at home.

Mr Ultimate must travel between home and work or the shops by tunnel, or must have been in another part of the Universe during the making of this programme; “Eye Witness” had been unable to film him and could not

produce even a still photograph of him. It did exhibit a painting of Mr Ultimate, revealing for the first time that Z.A.P. is led by Demis Roussos, the Greek soprano mountain.

Apart from that revelation, “Eye Witness," which had fanfared this effort as something of an. investigation, was a textbook illustration of the belief that seems to pervade much of New Zealand journalism that any story that. takes longer than a day comes under the vogue heading of “investigative reporting.” Investigation, some of this work may be; but it. only becomes investigative reporting when something is discovered and brought to the public’s notice that the intelligent public did not already know. The intelligent- public in Christchurch already knew that Z.A.P. is an organisation that runs pull-your-self-up-by - the - bootstraps-and-get-out-there-and-be-a- . winner-cos-life-is-a - jungle courses to boost competitiveness and selfcentred ruthlessness in business; has connections with Right-wing organisations such as the League of Rights; is connected

with small businesses such as the Dog House, the Sandwich Factory, and Luigi’s Pizza Parlour; doesn’t like unions and approves of employers paying peanuts: has had complaints from people who have committed cash to its courses and want it back but find that isn’t so easy; and has a petty-Fas-cist philosophy based on the sort of paranoid nonsense propounded by such books as “None Dare Call it Conspiracy,” and leaning towards economic selfishness that finds comfort in the writings of Ayn Rand.

But is Z.A.P. sinister? Does it work closely with Right-Wing groups? Is it subversive? Does it cheat the gullible who come to it hoping for self-con-fidence, self-respect, and wealth from its courses? What goes on at its course? What do these who have done the

courses and are satisfied with them, think they have gained? Who are the people at the top in Z.A.P.? What is their background? Their aims? What do they plan to do with the monev they make from Z.A.P.? Is Z.A.P. a commercial way of getting people and money for political aims? Or is it a legitimate “self-improve-ment” business?

One cannot, of course, assert that Z.A.P. is any of the things implied in the above questions. But they are the sort of questions raised by “investigative reporting” that makes hints about the organisation without taking it any further. Z.A.P. is an extreme enough organisation to warrant investigation, and it has been around long enough ■ for the outstanding questions about it to be answered. But that task needs more skill than once-over-lightly and a bit of mud-throwing round the place. Investigative reporting, as, for example, “World in Action” would have done if it had been on the job, takes a lot of time and deals not in hints and conjecture, but in facts.