Talanoa

When AI systems are designed, built, and developed, who gets to make critical decisions?  When a decision is made on deploying or using AI, who does not have a seat at the table? When the impact of AI is surfaced, whose voices are included in articulating the impact? Most existing AI tools have emerged in the Global North, at the heart of large corporations with wealthy decision-makers playing a key role in deciding what is built, for what, for whom, and for what use. What might it mean to be truly, meaningfully inclusive on these journeys? Talanoa, a concept from Fijian and Pacific Islander communities, offers us a framework to effect this shift.

Understanding Talanoa‍ ‍

Before proceeding, we want to acknowledge that Talanoa is a living practice embedded in the social and political life of Pacific communities. It was adopted as a framework for international climate negotiations, such as COP23 in 2017, where Fiji held the presidency. The concept has already travelled into global governance contexts in ways that have been both generative and, at times, diluting of its original depth. We draw on the concept's roots in Pacific cultural life while being transparent about that international history and its risks. We welcome correction.

The term Talanoa is used across many Pacific cultures, such as in Fiji, Tonga, Samoa, and beyond. The word combines “Tala,” meaning to tell, relate, narrate, or recount, and “Noa,” meaning without restraint. Together, Talanoa refers to a conversation that is inclusive, open, and oriented toward building a shared understanding, instead of striving to win arguments. It describes the kind of conversation that emerges from people engaging without restraint of any kind, to share stories, to listen, and to find their way toward understanding one another through the conversation.  It is not a mere template or format for meetings, but rather a practice of relationship that requires trust, time, and a commitment to remaining genuinely present to what others have to share. It does not concern itself with a predetermined conclusion but rather looks at truth as emergent from genuine encounters among different perspectives, experiences, understandings, and ways of knowing.  

The stories people tell in Talanoa constitute the primary medium through which understanding is built and decisions are made. At its heart, Talanoa carries an ethic of care for the conversation itself. The space of Talanoa is held with attention to who is present and who is absent, whose voice has not yet been heard, and whose voice needs to be brought into the circle. It is centred on the ideas of deliberation, respect, tolerance, flexibility, openness and fairness. The concept and its underlying philosophy are taught orally from one generation to the next, and the rules for it evolve with time.  

The process begins with a ceremony. Gifts are presented as a symbol of seeking forgiveness for a past conflict. Typically, a more serious conflict evokes a more elaborate gift. Gifts are not to be bought, but are typically to be passed down through family generations, and include such things as a tubua, a whale’s tooth, mats, and cloth. Next, kava, a drink made from the roots of the kava shrub, is drunk as a symbol of acknowledging and apologizing for harsh words and wounds inflicted by all those involved. The space is then beset with a peaceful tone for the deliberation to begin.

Those who drink the kava are obliged to engage without any preconceived notions and are not to initiate a dispute during the Talanoa process, as it may result in an escalated conflict. One may, alternatively, choose to refuse to drink the kava before the proceedings begin, if they want to make a statement before participating. When used as a means for conflict resolution between people or opposing groups, a third person serves as a mediator and facilitates the session. If the groups are whole villages, then the village spokesperson takes over as a facilitator. Traditionally, only men were allowed to speak within the Talanoa process, and women are often the “motivating” forces – they speak forcefully in private with the men, and tell them what to do and say. A woman who is directly involved in the Talanoa is expected to speak through a man. There have been criticisms that bring to surface the patriarchal approach inherent in these gendered roles. Some suggest that the women are the real decision makers and have a great deal of influence over the process in themselves.  Youth are also not included in these spaces, as elders take precedence.

What Talanoa unsettles in AI governance‍ ‍

AI governance processes are often structured around formats that privilege particular kinds of knowledge and participation, such as written submissions, technical expertise, legal argumentation, and quantitative evidence. These formats are not neutral. They have historically been known to systematically exclude or entirely flatten communities whose knowledge is held in different forms (such as in the form of stories, practices, relationships, and oral traditions) and those whose capacity to participate is constrained by language, resources, and the sheer unfamiliarity of the formats being used.

Talanoa offers a different model of governance process that begins by asking who is present and what they carry, rather than from a predetermined agenda. It asks governance to make space for story as a legitimate form of evidence, for silence as a form of communication, for the kind of slow and patient sense-making that genuine understanding between different communities requires.

For AI governance, Talanoa tells us that process reform is not enough. Genuine Talanoa requires the stories shared in the conversation to actually shape outcomes, where communities whose voices are heard have the power to determine what happens next. Talanoa asks us to investigate whose stories are shaping AI governance, and whose are being heard but not heeded. It asks governance to examine not just who is invited to participate, but also whether that participation actually makes a difference at all. It pushes to explore an even deeper question: What would governance look like if it began from story rather than from data, if the primary evidence for what AI is doing in the world came from the people living with its consequences, told in their own terms?

References‍ ‍

Fiji Presidency of COP23. (2017). The Talanoa Dialogue: A Concept Paper. UNFCCC.

Hautzinger, S. (2024). Continuing to Talanoa: Storytelling Dialogues for Youth Engagement in Climate Action and Justice. https://sustainableearthreviews.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s42055-023-00070-7‍ ‍

Hindley, P., November, N., Sturm, S., and Wolfgramm-Foliaki, ‘E. Rolling out the mat: A Talanoa on Talanoa as a higher education research methodology. https://researchspace.auckland.ac.nz/bitstream/handle/2292/50488/Hindley%20et%20al.%20-%20Rolling%20out%20the%20mat%20-%20A%20talanoa%20on%20talanoa%20as%20a%20higher%20education%20research%20methodology.pdf?sequence=2‍ ‍

Nabobo-Baba, U. (2006). Knowing and learning: An indigenous Fijian approach.  

Robinson, D. and Robinson, K. (2005). “Pacific ways” of talk: Hui and Talanoa, NZ Trade Consortium Working Paper No. 36, New Zealand Institute of Economic Research (NZIER), Wellington. https://www.econstor.eu/bitstream/10419/66100/1/494642475.pdf‍ ‍

Thaman, K. H. (2003). Decolonizing Pacific studies: Indigenous perspectives, knowledge, and wisdom in higher education. The Contemporary Pacific, 1-17.

Veitayaki, J. (1997). Traditional marine resource management practices used in the Pacific Islands: an agenda for change. Ocean & Coastal Management, 37(1), 123-136.