Taking the public out of public meetings

During a training for one of the government boards I’ve served on, a lawyer summarized transparency rules a way I hadn’t heard, yet explained a lot.

Public meetings, she said, aren’t the public’s — they’re meetings that take place in public.

That may come as a shock to anyone who assumes elected officials answer to them and must listen to what they say. Truth is, meetings are open to the constituency, a whole, as opposed to constituents. And, as of the first of this year, mayors and chairs have an easier time kicking out someone they deem disagreeable.

If you’ve heard of the Brown Act, you know California has a law (dating to 1953) that keeps deliberations from taking place behind closed doors. Open session is, well, open. Councils and boards can gather in private, but only for confidential matters involving, predominantly, litigation or personnel.

People often think of the

Brown Act like its Wikipedia definition, as a law that “guarantees the public’s right to attend and participate in meetings of local legislative bodies.” Generally, that’s accurate; the devil is in the details.

Really, it’s really more like house rules at a comedy show.

Attend? Sure, if you get in the room — and don’t get ejected.

Participate? Sure, if you speak at the right time, when asked. Speak at the wrong time, or the wrong way, and … (see: get ejected).

Biggest difference: Bouncers at public meetings have badges and guns.

Another difference: Comedians do better with hecklers.

New state regulations, via Senate Bill 1100, let the official running a meeting remove an individual who’s “disrupting” the proceedings. It’s a twostrikes law: first a warning, then you’re out.

Disruption under SB1100 “means engaging in behavior … that actually disrupts, disturbs, impedes, or renders infeasible the orderly conduct of the meeting.” Seems self-evident, and the bill spells out examples such as “a true threat of force” — but it delivers a caveat, an old standby for legislative lists, “includes, but is not limited to.” That’s a lot of wiggle room.

Chico Mayor Andrew

Coolidge enforces a City Council policy against personal attacks in public comments. He makes the call on what constitutes an attack, or an off-topic remark, though any councilor can interject and stop a speaker.

This came up in 2018, when former park commissioner and council candidate Mark Herrera called another citizen “this human paraquat” — twice — and then-Mayor Sean Morgan called for police to remove him. Herrera sued the city in federal court, claiming Morgan violated his free-speech rights, and got $50,000 in a settlement.

How would that fare under SB1100? I’m not a judge or attorney, but Morgan having warned Herrera before ejecting him seems to fit the letter of the law.

Morgan is still a councilor, part of the majority in place since 2020. Public comments still get testy: At the last meeting, a speaker yelled at Coolidge from the lectern and his seat, resulting in his early exit.

This is a far cry from an Oroville City Council meeting, five years ago at the State Theater, where a resident held the mike and issued orders to the city administrator — while another speaker accused councilors of corruption. Neither had to leave.

I’m not saying Oroville’s mayor did better than Chico’s; that meeting (on cannabis) got out of hand. Point is, there’s a lot of latitude, a lot of discretion. What’s disruptive for one might not be for another. Some officials have thick skin, some less tolerance.

Some just tune out.

Hearing isn’t the same as listening. Is a councilor more engaged with eyes on the podium than, say, their phone or tablet? Morgan gets flak for the latter — but whether he’s distracted, compared to colleagues with poker-faced stares, hard to know for certain.

What’s obvious is the effect, or lack thereof, of public comments on votes. Morgan is among the councilors who explain their rationale; he, from time to time, references a speaker’s point. Vice Mayor Kasey Reynolds and Councilor Dale Bennett, in particular, acknowledge when they’re going against public sentiment.

In the end, actions speak louder than words. Councilors approved Valley’s Edge after 31 residents opposed the proposal (14 supported it) and green-lit a hotel in California Park that 22 — and the Planning Commission — opposed.

Jesica Giannola, a frequent commenter who ran for council, has repeatedly urged the city to open its meetings to online participation, for citizens who can’t go to chambers. Others do this, notably the Butte County Board of Supervisors.

Attendance and participation are important. That’s why we have the Brown Act, caveats and all. But there’s no law for attentiveness; that’s on officials — and, come election time, voters.