"He Kōrero Whakaiti: Listening for the Koru When Wairua Speaks" - 10 February 2026
Sometimes the Ring doesn’t shout - It taps - It repeats - It places the same message in front of you twice, then three times, until you stop explaining it away and start listening

Mōrena Aotearoa,
This is a humble announcement, not a victory lap.
This is the last essay I will publish on Substack before moving the mahi to Ghost, hosted on https://the-maori-green-lantern.ghost.io/ — and then eventually to our own whenua in the digital realm https://themaorigreenlantern.maori.nz/.
And I want to be honest about why, and how it feels.

Because this is not a small move. It’s a leap. It’s a letting go. It’s trusting that what I’m sensing is real.
I have learned—sometimes the hard way—that when you are walking in kaupapa, wairua gives signals. Not always thunder and lightning. Often subtle. Often inconvenient. Often arriving right when you think you’ve found stability.
This story about Substack surfaced for me one day after I published a series of pieces about Waitangi 2026. That timing doesn’t feel random to me. It feels like a continuation of the same thread: the Crown and its corporate cousins push, and wairua responds—not by breaking you, but by redirecting you. A gentle pull of the current. A reminder: don’t build your whare on compromised ground.

I am choosing to honour that signal.
Acknowledging what Substack gave me
Substack helped my words reach people.

That’s a fact, and I won’t pretend otherwise.
Before Substack, I was publishing on my own website and feeding essays to social media. Engagement was low. People would read, maybe react, then disappear. Substack changed that because it doesn’t just host writing—it delivers it into inboxes, and it connects readers through its network. It gave me momentum.
So I offer this acknowledgement plainly: Substack helped build reach for The Māori Green Lantern.
And I’m grateful to the readers who found their way to me here, stayed, argued, shared, and carried this kaupapa into their own whānau conversations.
The line I can’t step over
But there is a cost.

The Guardian investigation that surfaced this week documented how Substack makes money from hosting Nazi newsletters and how its systems can lead users to more of that content. That isn’t a small “platform problem.” That’s a spiritual problem. A tikanga problem. A mauri problem.
I can’t keep publishing essays that challenge white supremacy and colonial violence on a platform that profits from white supremacist ideology.
Even if my own writing stands opposed to it—my presence still contributes to the platform’s legitimacy. And legitimacy is the oxygen these systems feed on.
This isn’t about purity. It’s about alignment. It’s about not letting the whare of my writing be built on money that carries the stink of fascism.
Tikanga and the Western mind: why this matters
To many in the Western mind, platforms are “neutral infrastructure.”
Just pipes. Just a stage. Just “content.”

But tikanga Māori doesn’t teach neutrality like that. Tikanga teaches relationship, responsibility, consequence. It teaches that systems have mauri—and if the mauri is depleted, everything that flows through it is affected.
In simple terms:
- If the river is poisoned, you don’t argue that the cup is clean because you only scooped from the surface.
- If the marae is being used to host harm, you don’t say “I’m only here for the kōrero,” while someone else is being attacked at the gate.

The Western world often waits until there is a legal threshold—until something is criminal, until the courts speak, until the policy manual updates. Tikanga waits for none of that. Tikanga asks: does this enhance life, or deplete it?
And when wairua gives you a signal that something is depleting, the humble response is not to debate the signal into silence. The humble response is to move.
Why Ghost: returning to my own whenua
So I’m moving to Ghost.
Not because it’s fashionable. Not because I’m trying to “win” the internet. Not because I think I can escape every risk.
But because Ghost allows something essential: a home I control.
- My writing sits on my domain: themaorigreenlantern.maori.nz.
- My subscriber list sits with me.
- My archive lives where no venture capitalist can decide what my work is worth.
- The infrastructure is built for publishing and newsletters, without tying my kaupapa to a platform taking a cut from hate.

This move is an act of rangatiratanga, yes—but it’s also an act of whakaiti (humility). Because it admits something: I can’t fight the system while pretending I’m not standing on it.
I can’t condemn colonisation while building my voice on land I don’t own.

So I’m coming home. Digitally. Spiritually. Strategically.
The koru: how I understand this moment
The part I need to say plainly is this:
I don’t believe the timing is coincidence.
I don’t claim to be a prophet. I’m not dressing this up as certainty. I’m sharing how it lands in me.
A day after writing about Waitangi 2026—after putting my focus again on Te Tiriti, on truth, on the Crown’s ongoing games—this story arrives at my door like a quiet knock.
And I recognise that knock.
It feels like wairua saying:
It’s time. Move on. Expand. Keep your roots and change your direction.
This move feels like a koru frond uncurling. Small at first, then widening. A spiral that repeats itself at different scales: first a website, then a newsletter, then a community, then a network of whānau sharing truth like fire carried between pā.

A fractal of the divine.
Not because I’m special—because the kaupapa is alive, and life seeks room to grow.
What happens next

Here’s what to expect, simple and clear:
- The new home will eventually be themaorigreenlantern.maori.nz.
- I will migrate the archive over.
- You’ll be able to subscribe there to receive essays directly.
- Substack will no longer be the place where this kaupapa lives.
This is not a rejection of readers who are here. It’s an invitation to walk with me to ground that is more aligned.
If you come with me, thank you. If you can’t right now, I still respect you. If all you do is share one link with one cousin, that is also koha.
Koha (humble, specific, and real)
This move to Ghost isn’t just spiritual—it’s practical. It has costs: hosting, email delivery, time, and the work of rebuilding a home that isn’t owned by Silicon Valley.

Every koha is a way of saying:
We will fund our own truth-tellers. We will not outsource our voice to platforms that profit from harm.
If you are able, please consider supporting this shift:
- Koha platform: Koha—Support The Māori Green Lantern
- Follow the essays / subscribe: themaorigreenlantern.maori.nz (new home)
- Bank transfer: HTDM 031546-0415173-000
If you’re not in a position to koha, no worries. Subscribe, share, kōrero with your whānau. That is also contribution. That is also mana.

I leave Substack without arrogance, and without pretending I’m above anyone who stays.
I leave because I felt the signal. I listened. And now I’m moving—quietly, deliberately—toward a home that feels more tika.
Kia tau te rangimārie.
Kia kaha tātou.
And may this koru keep opening.

Ivor Jones The Māori Green Lantern Fighting Misinformation And Disinformation From The Far Right
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