First Principles in Work and Life
So I can make the most of successfully completing things this year — especially being named a TUANZ Member Award finalist — over the last few weeks I’ve been going back to first principles in my mahi for Digital Inclusion Whanganui (DIW). The process has been rigorous, sometimes even uncomfortable, as it asks me to strip things back to their essence. What’s the real purpose? What’s the clearest message? Who’s the right regulator or partner to engage with?
I call this my 4R Rule: Right Focus + Right Message + Right Regulator = Right Outcome.
But something happened recently. While sharpening DIW’s framework, I realised these principles aren’t just for organisational work. They reach right into my own life. The “right” language reminded me of something much older, deeper, and personal — a path I first stumbled upon decades ago.
A Flash of Memory
Back in the mid-1990s, when I was first exploring spiritual ideas, I discovered a book that shaped me profoundly: Awakening the Buddha Within by Lama Surya Das. In it, I encountered the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism:
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Life is difficult.
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Life’s difficulties come from craving and attachment.
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Liberation is possible.
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There is a way to that liberation.
Alongside these truths, the book explained the Eightfold Path — a rhythm for daily living, a set of practices to move towards wisdom and compassion. Each principle begins with the word “Right”: Right Understanding, Right Intention, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration.
When I encountered these ideas as a younger man, I thought: this is remarkable, but perhaps not immediately practical. Fast-forward thirty years, and here I am designing frameworks for digital inclusion — and the old words come back.
When the Old Meets the New
Working on DIW’s first principles, I caught myself writing “Right Focus, Right Message, Right Regulator.” Suddenly it clicked. This wasn’t just a neat maxim for advocacy; it was a rediscovery of something ancient. The Buddhist concept of “Right” wasn’t about being morally superior or rigid. It meant aligned, balanced, wise, appropriate for the moment.
That realisation landed like a lightbulb flash:
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Right Focus mirrors Right Understanding — seeing clearly what matters.
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Right Message echoes Right Speech — communicating truthfully and constructively.
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Right Regulator aligns with Right Action and Right Livelihood — engaging in the right place, with integrity.
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And Right Outcome? That’s the fruit of the whole path: a more compassionate, just, and useful world.
Guardrails for a Digital Age
Why does this matter now? Because in our world of accelerating technology, the need for guardrails is greater than ever.
Digital tools are astonishing — they connect us, empower us, and create opportunities we couldn’t imagine a generation ago. But they can also exclude, confuse, or overwhelm. Without principles, we drift into digital inequity or even digital harm.
Buddhism isn’t a relic of hippie counterculture or a retreat into mysticism. It’s a practical philosophy that helps us navigate exactly these dilemmas. It says: life is difficult, but not hopeless. There are wise ways to act, even in complexity. And if we practise those ways, we create outcomes that are better for all.
The Personal and the Professional
For me, this is no longer just theory. I’ve been experimenting with putting the Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path beside DIW’s advocacy and project design. And what I see is a mirror:
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Life is difficult — Digital inclusion is difficult. Not everyone has access, skills, confidence, or affordable options.
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Craving and attachment cause suffering — Our tech culture often chases the newest device or app, leaving behind those who can’t keep up.
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Liberation is possible — When we close the digital divide, people thrive: seniors connect with families, jobseekers find opportunities, whānau access health and education.
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There is a path — Practical steps exist, from affordable connectivity to skills support to community partnerships.
This parallel has become more than interesting. It has become compelling. It suggests that DIW is not just a project. It’s part of a life practice — mine, and perhaps others too.
A Real Connection
In writing this blog I want to be honest. For the first time, I feel a real connection between my private reflections and my public mahi. These aren’t two separate worlds; they’re different parts of one journey.
I don’t claim to be a Buddhist scholar. I’m a learner, still clumsy, still figuring out how to live these ideas. But the resonance is undeniable. The Buddha within isn’t some exotic statue or temple artefact. It’s the quiet reminder that wisdom and compassion are available in every meeting, every funding conversation, every digital-skills workshop.
What This Means Going Forward
So what does it mean for DIW and for me? It means that first principles aren’t just organisational tools; they’re ways of living. It means that when we talk about “Right Focus” in digital policy, we’re also talking about “Right Understanding” in life. When we say “Right Regulator,” we’re really asking, “What’s the most compassionate and effective action here?”
And it means that the outcomes we chase — whether they’re fibre connections for rural whānau, digital-skills workshops for seniors, or affordable devices for families — aren’t just technical wins. They’re steps on a broader path towards community wellbeing.
Closing Reflection
When I read back over my notes — the scribbles about Surya Das, the 4R Rule, the lightbulb flash — I see something simple:
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Life is difficult.
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But there is a way.
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And it begins with aligning ourselves, moment by moment, to what is “right” in the deeper sense of that word.
That alignment is what awakens the Buddha within. It’s also what makes digital inclusion real, not just as a programme, but as a shared journey.
If there’s a takeaway for anyone reading this, perhaps it’s this: don’t be afraid to bring your whole self — your inner search, your struggles, your discoveries — into the work you do. You might find, as I have, that the boundaries between the personal and the professional blur in the best possible way.
Because in the end, first principles aren’t only for projects. They’re for life — and being recognised this year as a TUANZ Member Award finalist is a small reminder that walking this path matters.
This blog post is a collaborative creation by Alistair Fraser, with the innovative assistance of OpenAI’s ChatGPT 5 highlighting the synergy of human creativity and advanced AI technology.