“I’ve only been a rugby player.”

So said Richie McCaw when he spoke to Mike Hosking this morning, fresh after winning the New Zealander of the Year award.

Two other candidates were in the running: rape survivor and advocate Louise Nicholas, and environmentalist Rob Fenwick. But up against Richie McCaw, whose popularity knows no bounds, they never stood a chance.

Perhaps some reflection is needed on what an award like New Zealander of the Year should represent, and what makes a worthy winner.

In previous years, Dr Lance O’Sullivan, a tireless worker and advocate for his community in Northland, was honoured. Dame Anne Salmond, one of the finest academics the country has ever produced, has also won. There have been scientists, business titans, philanthropists, humanitarians.

Now there is a rugby player on the list. Make no mistake, his achievements on the rugby field have been immense. Nobody in the world has done what he has done.

However, those achievements are in an area that many New Zealanders simply do not care about, nor should they be compelled to care about. Rugby is no longer a monolithic force in New Zealand culture. To describe a rugby player as having made the greatest contribution to New Zealand over 2015 ignores the millions that don’t feel represented by the All Blacks.

Which brings us to the other finalists – one in particular. Their work could not be more different, in terms of the magnitude of importance to wider society. When we look at the judging criteria, it is clear that one person stands head and shoulders above the rest.

Louise Nicholas made a “contribution and benefit to society and impact on community or nation by the individual being nominated” – finally, rape survivors were being recognised.

Length of service is part of the criteria –Nicholas has been battling rape culture since she first brought charges against the police officers (who were later acquitted on these charges, but found guilty of other rapes) in 1993.

Louise Nicholas is credited with significantly changing the culture of misogyny that existed within the Police, showing a clear “contribution to New Zealand's development.”

Finally, the challenges she faced and overcame to get where she is today – the final criteria for the award – were significantly greater than those posed by the Wallabies forward pack.

The problem with this award is that it compared a significant figure in a popular but ultimately unimportant field with a person with a lower public profile who has undertaken far more important work. Sexual violence is a dramatically unreported and frighteningly normalised aspect of New Zealand society. Louise Nicholas is fighting every day to change that.

Then there is the question of rewards. Richie McCaw has been included in the Order of New Zealand, he’s made millions from his rugby career and lucrative endorsement deals, and will never struggle for money or recognition no matter what circumstances befall him in later life.

How has Louise Nicholas been rewarded for her advocacy? With abuse, threats, and claims she was a liar.

An award like New Zealander of the Year should, and worryingly may well, reflect what we value as a nation. This year the award recognised someone who made us feel fleetingly good, like a nation of winners.

Nicholas’ work as an advocate for survivors of sexual violence rather proves that we aren’t, in fact, a nation of winners, but a nation which cuts funding women’s refuge centres and rape crisis houses despite statistics indicating the dramatic numbers of women will experience some kind of sexual violence in their lifetimes.

McCaw’s physical efforts are admirable. Nicholas’ mental efforts are far more worthy of praise.

An opportunity has been missed to truly commend someone who has battled for decades to change New Zealand for the better.