Learning never ends

Kevan Wong has added law to a career shaped by curiosity, discipline and a refusal to stop learning. Mary Anne Gill speaks to the Tauranga dentist about what next.

Family support for Kevan Wong at his recent graduation, from left: Zona, Amy, Bella, Rohan, wife Jan and Jonathan. Kneeling left Xanthie, Cassian and Zebacia.

When Kevan Wong walked across the stage at The Pā in Hamilton last month to receive his Bachelor of Laws from the University of Waikato, the crowd noticed three things immediately: his age, his gown and the beaming smile.

Wong, 77, was one of the oldest graduates in the ceremony, smiling broadly as he accepted his degree from Chancellor Susan Hassall. He was dressed in a deep claret‑coloured gown that reflected his PhD from the University of London rather than the qualification he was collecting that day.

For Wong, the moment was less about ceremony than continuity. With degrees in science, dentistry, a PhD in dental implantology and now law, the Tauranga‑based dentist and researcher – who has practised in the city for the past 20 years – is described by his family, with a mix of pride and bemusement, as a lifetime student.

Wong agrees the label fits.

“I just follow my interests,” he says.

“And once something catches my attention, I want to understand it properly.”

That curiosity, he says, has shaped every major decision of his working life.

Born in Guangzhou in southern China, Wong arrived in New Zealand at the age of two after his father – who had emigrated here in 1920 – returned to China to marry his mother. The family settled in Timaru, where Wong grew up, attended Timaru College and absorbed what he describes as a very New Zealand childhood.

For a time, his ambitions were less academic than athletic.

“My whole ambition in life was to be an All Black,” he says, proudly recalling two seasons playing No 8 for South Canterbury representative teams.

His professional life, however, would head in a very different direction. Wong began his working career as an aircraft engineering apprentice with the National Airways Corporation, now Air New Zealand. Stationed at Harewood in Christchurch, he filled his lunch breaks with reading and became fascinated by early discoveries in DNA and molecular biology.

That curiosity prompted a decisive shift. Wong gave up engineering, enrolled at the University of Otago and completed a Bachelor of Science, followed by a dental degree. Dentistry appealed because it was vocational and practical, and because it offered a way to solve problems directly.

My whole ambition in life was to be an All Black

After qualifying, Wong chose deliberately to work where he was most needed. He spent a decade in rural practice in Taumarunui and later established the first dental practice in Ohakune in the late 1970s, balancing long clinical days with his love of skiing.

Around the same time, he was commissioned into the Royal New Zealand Dental Corps and served as a dental officer at Hobsonville, then a key Royal New Zealand Air Force base. The work was structured, disciplined and demanding, and Wong says it sharpened his clinical judgement and leadership skills.

“You were responsible, and you learned quickly,” he says.

“But I realised I wasn’t seeing the breadth of dentistry I wanted. My patients were young and fit. I knew I needed wider experience.”

Back in the King Country, the work was busy and rewarding but eventually limiting.

“I realised I’d almost done as much as I could for everyone I’d seen,” he says.

Then came the case that changed everything.

A Taumarunui farmer approached Wong ahead of his daughter’s wedding, asking for white, straight teeth. Wong initially refused. The man’s teeth, while crooked, were healthy and functional, and Wong was reluctant to remove them. But after months of persistence, he agreed.

The man got his smile for the wedding. Years later, however, the farmer returned.

“He couldn’t keep his dentures in,” Wong says.

“They just didn’t work properly.”

The experience stayed with him. It raised an uncomfortable question about long‑term outcomes, responsibility and whether dentistry could do better.

That question – there must be a better way – led Wong into the emerging field of dental implants.

He travelled to the United Kingdom, enrolled at the University of London and completed a PhD in dental implantology, specialising in jaw reconstruction and bone regeneration. From there, he established a specialist referral practice in Norwich, published in peer‑reviewed journals and was awarded a research fellowship from the Dunhill Medical Research Trust.

His work placed him at the forefront of a rapidly developing field and, crucially, in a position to train others.

I follow what intrigues me

Returning to New Zealand in the early 2000s to support family, Wong settled in Tauranga, where he developed a group dental practice that grew to include five dentists and multiple hygienists before being incorporated into the Lumino Dentists Group. Alongside clinical work, he spent more than two decades training dentists in implantology, helping lift capability across the profession.

By most measures, it would have been a logical point to slow down.

Instead, semi‑retirement brought restlessness. Watching the news at night, Wong found himself frustrated by how little he understood of the science, policy and legal frameworks underpinning climate change.

So, he enrolled at the University of Waikato’s Tauranga campus, initially to study climate change science. Nearing completion, he encountered papers on how law is applied to environmental policy. Once again, interest took over.

“I follow what intrigues me,” he says.

“And law, as it relates to climate change, was fascinating.”

That decision led him onto the graduation stage once more, this time collecting a Bachelor of Laws. He is now preparing for professional legal studies and admission to the Bar, to the amused disbelief of his family. Wong and his wife Jan have seven children between them and 14 grandchildren.

“Everyone thinks I’m crazy,” he says.

But for Wong, continual learning is not an indulgence. It is a responsibility.

“There is so much more to do,” he says.

“People don’t realise that until they start looking properly.”