to become. No person ever has more than one culture and maybe no culture ever had any reality except in one person. All the tidy monographs about the generality of patterns of life of particular people ignore, as they must, the fact of the personalness of culture; they present the theme because the variations are so many, so complex, sometimes so widely divergent that they muddy our minds and muddle our thoughts. But people are as they are—not as anthropologists would have them be; a generalisation which happily applies also to anthropologists. Now all this might seem sophistry and harisplitting. Some might say that any Maori who really is a Maori will show behaviour within all four categories. You may if you wish to do so, group all four into some total grand super definition of culture but if you do, you must keep in mind that your action may not help in discussing the future of Maori culture. There are as many kinds of Maori culture as there are Maoris. Variations occur in kind as well as in degree and these four definitions list four out of the range of possibilities simply for our present purpose of thinking about the future. Four kinds of future for four kinds of culture If a Maori Culture I exists today in New Zealand, it does so only for a few. I can't be dogmatic about this because there are many places I have never visited and thousands of Maoris I've never met. But of those I have met, in areas both rural and urban, isolated and not, Culture I exists only for some of the very old—people who live in a world of different manners and meanings from the young. If you disagree with this I challenge you to state the stylistic differences, seen in every action, in every part of life, which you would consider to define Maoriness for some large number of those who call themselves Maori. If there are such individuals or groups of such individuals it seems to me most unlikely that their distinctiveness and style can survive intact under the onslaught of pakeha schooling when young, of pakeha employment when older and the vigorous pushful assertiveness of the mass media of pakeha life which they can neither ignore or deny. To regret this is human; to ignore it is fantasy. The second kind of culture, the occasional culture, which characterises certain optional, voluntary groups and links members of those groups in common or shared practices, rituals, and customs, will show survival, change and be affirmed for as long as people want the comfort of association such sharing brings. Such culture can be found amongst old men, and young scholars. Its future is their concern. The tangi has a future just as other culturally derived mortuary rites persist; it will change as they have changed. The hui can be integrated without strain into the social life of city Maoris; they not only attend such gatherings but also on occasions run them. The hui has grown from a small democratic forum into a demonstration of organising capacity and group solidarity of immense size. Maybe Maoris, like some pakehas, associate bigness with success. Personally the little hui holds more for me in terms of enjoyment and satisfaction than vast marathon ventures but there is no reason to believe that Maori people will continue to equate bigness with success and perhaps huis may again become occasions when every voice is heard. Perhaps there are not enough institutions to keep all existing customs alive and changing into the future. Perhaps we need a school of arts and crafts organised so that many can participate rather than few. Perhaps schools of whakapapa, or of patere and pou, could be organised more often. But you cannot push people into these activities. So long as somewhere some is working at, on, or in these things, need the originary Maori person bother? Will he? He tailors his culture to fit his estate. Saying that he should know this, or do that, is to speak idly unless he wants to. No one ever forced a culture on to anyone; by its nature Culture II is optitive, voluntary and depends on warmth of association, on interest, and that which is seen by a group to be the pre-requisites and requisites of membership. In the third kind of culture both Maori and pakeha have an interest. In action song and haka, carving, weaving, kowhaiwhai, in poetry, history, legends and even whai korero, anyone with interest enough can gain some expertise. But skill is not enough. For these activities to grow they must meet new needs and be adapted to new purposes and conditions. How this can be done, when and where, I leave to your discussion. But it must be done. I remember once watching a listless, unenthusiastic group of Maori High School students mechanically perform an action song. Since I wondered at the lack of élan in their performance I asked some of the party about the song later in the day, and my suspicions were confirmed. Too much practice, too little variety in their practices, too much emphasis on drilled conformity, too little real participation in making the song, in understanding its sentiments, in suiting it to these people at this point in time. No folk art survives on classics alone. Classics teach excellence and show how to renew the art form to suit new topics, new interests, new ways of living. New creations in the tradition of action song are not uncommon; some achieve the status of modern classics; the ephemeral are not the less important in advancing the tradition. But is haka as vigorous in cultural growth? And what of patere and pou—did Puhiwahine say all that was to be said in these traditions? Some young Maori people use pakeha art forms to express Maori sentiments, sculpture, graphic art, poetry, and other literary forms. Within these traditions there is a chance to show what being a Maori in 1960 means, to help people to understand. The need is great. Such activities express the fourth kind of culture; the least understood and most difficult to