Culture of secrecy proving harmful
Horowhenua is a community where people are concerned with their local affairs.
In last year’s local government elections, more than half (51 per cent) made the effort to vote, a healthy turnout compared with the national average of 42 per cent. However, Horowhenua may also be leading the way is discovering new ways to quell the flow of public information and keeping its voters in the dark.
The district council’s chief executive admits black-listing some people in the community and blocking emails from them, and it appears this included emails to the council’s own elected members. At this stage we don’t know how many other councils may have instituted the same abhorrent practice, but we do know that many councils around the country are developing a culture of secrecy. Grassroots democracy is being threatened.
Too many councils are holding valuable discussions behind closed doors, telling elected members they can’t use the media to criticise the council, and obstructing the flow of public information by abusing the Official Information Act.
Some may dismiss the Horowhenua council’s emailcensorship scheme as acceptable management. This forgets that councils are not profit-driven corporations. They are democratically-elected bodies, and rate-paying community members should have the power to influence how their money is being spent.
The problem of censored emails is not simply with the staff person who wheedled in policies to hamper the flow of information. The obstacle is those who look the other way, giving tacit approval.
It seems people knew of council management blocking emails and accepted it as the norm. What’s wrong with this? For one thing, it flies in the face of the country’s Bill of Rights, which says: ‘‘Everyone has the right to freedom of expression, including the freedom to seek, receive and impart information and opinions of any kind in any form.’’
Of course, this was written when the internet and instant emails were uncommon. But freedom of expression doesn’t mean people have to be overly literate, use polite bureaucratic language, or cool their emotions. It means everyday members of the public can be heard.
Unfortunately, this community has had experiences of feeling ignored. An example was shifting the Foxton cenotaph, despite locals and iwi being promised more consultation first. Other examples are the decision to chop the library trust and the current moves to sell social housing.
Whether or not these instances were fair and legal is immaterial, as they paint a picture of the community feeling that no-one is listening to their concerns.
It is not easy for elected members to fairly represent their communities. Speaking on behalf of voters can bring conflict with staff. But the power imbalance between their elected members and council managers is evident, in financial prestige alone.
Council chief executives usually earn well over twice more than the mayor and can take home 10 times more than councillors. In Horowhenua, chief executive David Clapperton earns a salary package of $270,000, while the mayor earns about $100,000 and councillors earn $25,000 – or more if they chair a committee.
The power imbalance is also in experience and resources. For instance, Clapperton has been working at the council for more than a decade, first as strategy and corporate services manager, and, for the past four years, as chief. And he has a large staff reporting to him.
Some elected members, on the other hand, are new to local authority rules and practices and have no staff to help them determine what is fair or not. This imbalance sometimes makes it easy for elected members to go with the flow and agree with what looks normal, but when representing the community they must be vigilant to ensure democracy prevails.
Dr Catherine Strong is a senior lecturer in journalism at Massey University.