An ‘inappropriate’—and
possibly inconvenient—truth
At the Ordinary Council Meeting on 27 July,
the indefatigable Jane Ferro asked a question about the presence of armed
police at two previous meetings presided over by Commissioner James Best.
Shire President Reid replied that it was
‘not appropriate to pass judgement on a previous council’.
Whenever I hear the word appropriate (or its opposite) a warning
bell tinkles in my brain. The word
isn’t new. In the 15th
century, it was used to indicate ownership (think of its cousin proprietor). A couple of centuries later, it acquired its modern meaning:
‘suitable’ or ‘fitting’, or ‘proper’ as in ‘that’s not an appropriate (i.e. proper) way to treat a lady’.
(Of course, from a politically correct
perspective that example is entirely inappropriate,
being sexist and condescending, but let’s put that objection to one side.)
Over the past 30 or so years, the word has
flourished in official communications like a particularly noxious and invasive weed.
Worse, it’s a contagion spread in
schools and universities and through social media. It’s one of those weasel
words that silently strangle thought.
Once applied, the word cannot be
challenged; a judgement, demanding conformity, has been made and set in
stone. Asking someone to explain
precisely why an action or statement
is ‘appropriate’ or
‘inappropriate’ seems to be the moral equivalent of passing wind in a mosque.
With some misgivings—who wants to be the
target of a bureaucratic jihad?—I asked Shire President Reid at the September
Council meeting if his use of the phrase ‘not appropriate’ in his reply to Ms
Ferro reflected his own views or those of the Acting CEO or his ‘mentors’.
With his customary frankness, the Shire
President said that it reflected the views of the mentors. For me, that statement implied that in
this instance his views and those of the mentors might not have been fully in
accord, but the mentors had nudged him into compliance.
I also wanted to know what was the legislative
basis of the mentors’ opinion, but that part of my question went missing in the
wash.
A friend—I still have one or two—referred
me for an answer to the Shire’s Standing Orders, which have the status of a
local law.
Sure enough, there it was, in clause 8.4
under the heading ‘Adverse Reflection’:
Members of
Council should refrain from adverse reflection of prior decisions of the
Council except to provide a statement or reasoned argument setting out factual
information relating to that decision.
If the
mentors’ opinion was based on that clause, or any provision like it, they were
doing neither themselves nor their ‘mentee’ (is there really such a word?) any
favours.
Note that the
clause exempts from censure ‘a statement or reasoned argument’ based on
‘factual information’. Ms Ferro,
as I recall, had sought the Shire President’s opinion on Commissioner Best’s
request for armed police to be present at two Council meetings.
It was therefore
open to and appropriate for the Shire
President to provide a statement or reasoned argument on the topic. For example, he might have expressed disapproval
of Commissioner Best’s actions on the (factual) grounds that in living memory
no angry mob in York had ever lynched or assaulted a person presiding over a
council meeting. (Of course,
there’s always a first time…)
The Shire
President might also have felt moved to say that calling in armed police was in
his opinion insulting to the good people in the gallery, because it implied
that they were a dangerous bunch of blood-thirsty radicals bent on murder or
mayhem. That would have been a
reasoned argument explaining why in his eyes the commissioner’s action was
unwarranted. It wouldn’t have
breached the clause in any way.
By the way, I
think ‘reflection of’ should read ‘reflection on’, but I’ll let that pass
without further comment because the intention of the clause is clear enough
even if the wording is a bit wobbly.
For the same reason, I won’t go into the difference between ‘should’ and
‘must’ as elements of moral discourse.
I wouldn’t want to be picky about such matters.
My point is
simply this: if, as seems likely, the mentors based on this piece of
legislation a blanket opinion that it’s ‘not appropriate’ in all circumstances to pass judgement on a previous council, they didn’t
understand the law and got it wrong.
On the other
hand, if their opinion was based merely on an intuitive instead of an
intellectual response to the issue, which may well have been the case, they had
no moral right to impose it on our Shire President, which I’m pretty sure is
what they did.
And as I remarked at the close of my
question: Commonwealth and state
governments display no reluctance in passing judgement on their
predecessors. Why should local
governments be prohibited from doing the same thing?
Over to you, mentors. Am I right or am I right?
I wonder what the Department of Local
Government’s probity guru, the sainted Brad Jolly, thinks. Perhaps he’d like to tell me for the
blog.
‘Bagging’ York
A friend of mine has told me that yesterday she heard a
rival candidate saying that people shouldn’t vote to put me on Council because
as writer of this blog I am always ‘bagging York’.
The candidate in question doesn’t know
me. I’ve never set eyes on
them. They probably wouldn’t know
me if they fell over me. (By
‘they’, I mean either ‘he’ or ‘she’.
See if you can guess which.)
I’m certain I’ve never had the pleasure of
a conversation with them. I’m sure
I’d remember if I had.
So what could possibly be the source of their
ideas about me?
It can’t possibly be this blog or the blog
I used to write for. Why not? Because I can put one hand on my heart
and the other on a stack of Bibles and swear without fear of heavenly
thunderbolts that I have never once bagged York in either blog or anything else
I’ve written, including emails. (I
don’t do Facebook or Twitter.)
I challenge anyone to find something I’ve
written or said anywhere at any time that ‘bags York’. The only negative comment I’ve ever
made in relation to York has been about the climate.
My comment was that in the depths of winter
and at the height of summer York’s weather can be hard to take.
That was in the context, I recall, of my
suggestion on this blog that the best seasons to visit York are spring and autumn.
I think most people who live here
would agree.
What my rival and others are doing is
confusing two distinct entities:
York, meaning the place and the people, and the Shire of York, which is
a statutory body responsible for governance and administration.
Yes, I have ‘bagged’ aspects of the Shire
of York, and persons connected with it.
I see no reason at present to resile from anything I’ve written or said.
But I have never—NEVER—bagged York. There’s no reason why I should.
I enjoy living here. I love the historic buildings, shopping
in the town, chatting with friends and eating lunch in Avon Terrace, having people
to stay, enjoying the countryside and in every season of the year taking in the marvellous view from our
verandah. York is blessed with a
friendly and welcoming population that deserves much better than unconscionable
rate rises, an untrained and incompetent Shire administration and mediocre representatives
on Council.
For over six years, York has been my
home. Along with my wife, I choose
to live here. I don’t have
to. We have a house in Geraldton
we could move back to when our tenant’s lease expires. I doubt we shall ever do that. Sooner or later, I expect to die
here—preferably later, of course.
So please, dear rival candidate, don’t just
parrot silly slogans picked up from my detractors. Look at the evidence and think for yourself.
You may well find that the authors of those
slogans have a vested interest in preventing change. Never mind that they made a mess of things in the past; they
think they should still be running the Shire of York.
Those are the people who got rid of Matthew
Reid, with a little help from a corrupt government department, because he deprived
them of power, diminished their influence and threatened their interests and
perks.
If you are elected, they will probably expect
you to do their bidding.
I wish you luck in the election. Please, if you become a shire councillor,
maintain your independence of mind and do the best you can for York. Give the bad guys a very wide berth.
Written, authorised and published by James Plumridge, 14 Harriott Street, York