How an Access to Justice Hackathon became the catalyst for homegrown innovation 

by Keenan Evans, Research Assistant @ ALTeR 

Opening: Setting the Stage

Unleash Space: The Beginning 

Imagine this: the Unleash Space at the University of Auckland, Friday afternoon. About 60 students are scattered across the room, and a light murmur of conversation abounds as people tentatively nurse paper cups filled with instant coffee. Most had never been to a hackathon before. None had been to a legal tech hackathon before – because this was New Zealand’s first at the University of Auckland.

As the token undergrad student at ALTeR, I was primarily there to act as a social interaction person, checking in with different teams and ensuring an open line of communication and moral support. I wasn’t sure what to expect from our biggest project so far. Everyone was trying to answer the same question: “How do we make justice more accessible in New Zealand?” Most of the room looked like they weren’t entirely sure they were qualified to answer it.

Our opening ceremony covered logistics, scheduling and expectations. This wasn’t going to be easy. Legal problems are messy. Technology solutions often aren’t. We had 24 hours to figure out if those two realities could somehow work together.

None of us realised yet that this was not just a competition. We were creating the first real space for New Zealand’s legal tech ecosystem to discover what eager students could accomplish when given expert advice, time and space.

 

Act 1: Meeting Strangers, Something Cool and Literate

Friday afternoon, 2:30 pm sharp. It begins. 

All the teams scattered across the space after an opening Karakia and a quick motivational speech. For some odd reason, many of the teams instinctively claimed hidden corners. Despite the Unleash Space being mostly open plan, some teams managed to disappear entirely. This was how my role as a social connector started: hunting down all the wayward teams so I could introduce myself to them and check if they had questions. It took me more time than expected, and I found myself in precarious situations – including sticking my head between  large wooden plant stands, almost as tall as me, to check in with Team 9 at their impossible tucked-away table.  

Members of Team 9 in their natural hackathon habitat

 

The initial conversations between the teams were stilted, with students sticking to what they felt most comfortable with. Laptops were open, with the Social Security Act on law student screens and developing tools on the self-described “techie” screens. Law students would try to explain a legal process and its reasoning, tech students would nod politely, then ask follow-up questions that revealed they’d understood maybe 30% of what was said. The reverse happened when tech students would show the code on their screen and be met with blank stares from the law side.  

Team 4’s developer explaining how their product works

 

It wasn’t smooth. There was frustration, confusion, and more than a few “wait, what?” moments. But the teams did not give up, nor did they lose their motivation. We were technically wrapped up by 8 pm, but by 10:30 pm, I was still nudging groups toward the door with a mixture of “You need sleep” and “The buses will stop running in 20 minutes”.  They weren’t staying because everything was going according to plan – they were staying because they could sense something might work, that their ideas were becoming tangible. 

What struck me, especially as a law student, was watching my peers engage with and teach themselves product development. Yes, they could not create a final product equivalent to what experienced CS students could do. Still, they wanted to learn so they could better understand what they were trying to achieve and on the off chance they could support their team better. It was a hint of the innovation and dedication that was to come the next day. 

Act 2: Crisis and Coffee – When Innovation Gets Real 

Saturday Morning, 9 am sharp start (to many students’ horror).

If Friday was about optimism and learning, Saturday was about getting punched in the face by reality. 

The day started with incredible energy and optimism.  While doing my rounds, teams would pull me aside and show me actual working products, creating custom chatbots to make benefit applications easier to a website that allowed users to highlight various sections in the Social Security Act to define, translate or summarise it. I was in awe, remembering how these were just ideas only yesterday and now in front of me was a final product. All that was left was to get helpful refinement during the mentor feedback sessions from 10-12 pm. Instead, they became a masterclass in reality checks.  

The mentors weren’t just legal tech experts – we’d assembled an incredible mix of expertise. Entrepreneurs who’d built successful companies from scratch. People who’d spent years on the ground engaging with MSD and other access to justice issues. Technology and web designers who understand what works in user experience. Practitioners who knew the system’s pain points intimately. These were all top-of-their-game professionals who’d carved out time on a Saturday morning to support student innovation – and they didn’t pull punches. Students were eager for input, and they got the hard questions that expose the gaps between good intentions and workable solutions: “Will MSD really look for ways to make benefits easier to apply for?” “Would simplifying a form online still be viable if the number one issue for failed applications is a lack of official documents?” “What is your funding plan beyond ‘partnering with the government?”
 

Teams would also run to get feedback between and after sessions

 

By the second round of mentors, teams were getting antsy. Several participants approached me asking if they could take a break or if there would be additional time to develop and implement feedback. One student pulled me aside: “We received so much feedback in the first round alone that we need to make massive adjustments to our product and pitch.”

That’s when I suggested teams split their approach. Two members continuously receive feedback from mentors while the others jet off to different areas to implement changes in real-time. That’s when something interesting happened – organized chaos.

Teams disappeared into their hidden corners, but now with different members running back and forth like relay runners, one person would sprint back from the mentor session with updated feedback, and another would run back to the team to get them to ask a specific follow-up question. The fern-hidden tables and tucked-away corners suddenly became command centres with constant foot traffic.  

After the mentor’s feedback ended at noon, I let the teams do their thing. The entire area was reduced to complete silence as everyone buckled down for the final sprint to the 2:30 pm submission. The energy had shifted from collaborative excitement to focused determination. 

Act 3: The Breakthrough Moment – Innovation Takes Off 

2:30pm. Submissions closed. You could see the relief and exhaustion in equal measure. 

The pitches from 3-5 pm showed what people could accomplish in 24 hours when focused on real problems. What struck me wasn’t the technical sophistication – though some solutions were incredibly built – but how every presentation stayed grounded in helping people navigate the justice system.

Teams could have gone the route of pitching flashy tech or commercial potential. Instead, every presentation addressed the actual problem they’d identified. The students talked about real barriers people face, specific pain points in current processes, and practical ways in which their solutions might help. Whether simplifying legal forms, connecting people with appropriate services or making information more accessible, the focus remained on the impact.  

A specific pitch that stood out to me was the first team to present, team 1.5, pitching their product “Koru the Kiwi”. They were an interesting team as they were a combined group of teams 1 and 5 after some members did not show up at the start of the hackathon. Additionally, they were one of the teams that had to rebuild their pitch from the ground up, almost entirely, after receiving some particularly realistic feedback from mentors. Watching them go from anxious and worried in their prep to standing on stage with the utmost confidence in their pitching was simply incredible.  

Koru the Kiwi – Runner Up Prize Winners

 

I found myself in the ironic position of being hidden in a corner, clutching my laptop with a timer on screen to help teams keep track of their pitch team. Once teams got rolling with their presentations, it was nearly impossible to stop them. They’d hit their stride by talking about problems they’d identified and passionately explaining how their solutions might help.  

Team 10 pitching “Benefit Buddy” in front of our judges

 

Watching this unfold, I realised what had emerged from those 24 hours. Yes, some teams had built functional prototypes under immense time pressure. More importantly, they had demonstrated that when you give passionate students the right constraints, genuine feedback and a physical space, they focus on what matters. No one was trying to build the next unicorn start up; they were trying to solve real problems for real people.
 

The announcement of the two winning teams, Team 1.5’s “Koru the Kiwi” and Team 8’s “Plain Rights”, was met with genuine happiness and congratulations. However, the biggest joy was what came afterwards, where everyone mingled and talked about what they did, how cool this person was, and how hard that person worked. The connections being made weren’t just networking; it was the building of a community. 

Team 8’s “Plain Rights” wins first place

 

Epilogue: “What We Built Beyond the Screens”  

The prototypes created during those 24 hours were a mixed bag. Some worked, some didn’t, and most fell somewhere in between. That wasn’t really the point.  

The point was how our unique Aotearoa community has incredible innovation potential in legal tech and that we need to give it space to grow, particularly in our students. If we want to move beyond theory to application, events like “Hack the Justice” are what’s needed. Where those experienced in this space show students that these opportunities exist, that legal tech isn’t just about insane valuations and the newest chatbots. 

Out of approximately 55 students present, only five could be considered legal tech adjacent. Most had experience with either law or technology, but not both. Through this event, we created a catalyst for contributing to this space. And not just contributing by building the next AI mega-million company, but by implementing technology responsibly that advances our society, upholds equity and fairness, and embodies the Kiwi principles we hold dear.

We have proven that when you create the right environment – where students can engage with experienced practitioners, where feedback is honest and constructive, where the focus stays on helping people rather than just building technology – innovation follows naturally.

The question now isn’t whether New Zealand has the innovation capacity for legal tech – we’ve proven that. It’s how quickly we can create the spaces and community to harness it. This hackathon was just the start of building momentum in this space, and we at ALTeR are committed to ensuring that this momentum does not stop.