Senate Bill 567

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide

WELL, THAT didn’t take long. Maybe there is hope for the Ledge. A bill that would have hidden a lot of information from the public died a lonely death Tuesday in the Arkansas General Assembly. The concern was that this bill had life in the first place. Rest in peace, Senate Bill 567, and let’s hope lawmakers don’t wake you up.

Neal Earley’s lede in Wednesday’s paper was perfect: “Without a vote and without a word from the opposition, a bill to curtail the public’s access to county coroners’ reports in Arkansas died in committee Tuesday.” Would if we could never worry about such a bill again.

Some officials were honest enough to say that the news side of this newspaper was the inspiration for such an uninspired bill. Since the pandemic began a year ago, reporters and editors for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette have used coroners’ reports to tell the stories of those who have died from the covid-19 virus. For the best example, see arkansasonline.com and the heartwarming (and heartbreaking) package the newsroom has put together, complete with photos and sweet memories of those lost. Those of us who read several newspapers a day can testify that the Democrat-Gazette newsroom is doing some of the country’s best work when it comes to these stories, if we do say so ourselves. And we do.

Also, the newsroom—over which this column has no sway, say or okay— has published several anchor stories about deaths among children in state care, or children who should’ve been in state care after complaints. Freedom of Information requests are important tools in getting this information to the public.

But it sure must be a chore to complete the paperwork when a reporter comes to the coroner’s office with an FOI request. Which might be why this legislation was patched together in the first place. There is always somebody in the taxpayer-funded office who believes taxpayer-funded information should be kept from taxpayers. And the arguments can be heard every day, along with a good reporter’s polite reply:

“I’m too busy doing my job to get the information.”

Getting this information is part of the job.

“If I do it for you, I’d have to do it for 40 people tomorrow.”

Surely you have a copying machine? “I don’t know how to put this information together.”

Can I help?

“I don’t think you should have this information.” Who’s your boss?

Or maybe SB567 was inspired by something more intuitive, that is, untaught. One person speaking on behalf of SB567 said releasing documents from a coroner’s report is “just information we don’t need out.”

Well.

A legislative committee spent 35 minutes on the bill before its lead sponsor pulled it. (“I think it’s obvious it’s not going anywhere.”) And the state’s much applauded Freedom of Information law can be celebrated again tomorrow. Instead of eulogized. Thank you, lawmakers, for standing up for We the People.

LEST WE forget, the FOI laws in this state, or any other state, aren’t on the books just to help journalists. We doubt lawmakers all those years ago admired reporters any more than they do today. The FOI laws are there to keep public information public. And anybody in the public can make these requests. Journalists are just more accustomed to the rules/processes/agency secretaries who know where the files are.

This state’s Freedom of Information law is widely considered one of the nation’s best. Thank you, Winthrop Rockefeller & Reforming Co., for all that you did in the ’60s. The people of Arkansas are better, more informed, and safer for it.

And thanks to current lawmakers, too. Passing good legislation is only part of the job. Stopping bad legislation is just as important.