THE DOG’S BREAKFAST SYNDROME

A week ago, the West Australian carried an alarming story by Kate Emery headlined ‘Council rangers abused, spat on’. 

The story told of council officials going peacefully about their lawful business improving the public weal while copping filthy language, threats to life and limb, physical assaults and volleys of used saliva for their pains.

This appalling behaviour seems to have become commonplace throughout the metropolitan area. 

It has been directed not only at rangers but also at other local government officials—for example, members of the City of Fremantle’s ‘community safety team’ (27 incidents in 2016-17 including three of physical assault, suggesting that being a member of the city’s ‘safety team’ isn’t the safest job in Fremantle).

During the same period, the City of Vincent recorded six incidents of ‘ranger abuse’, three involving physical assault, while the Town of Mosman Park recorded 17 such incidents, in one of which a pole was thrown at a ranger while in another the ranger’s life was threatened.

My first reaction on reading Ms Emery’s story was one of gratitude that I live in the peaceful municipality of York, where so far as I know incidents of that kind are extremely rare if not entirely unknown.

My second was to wonder what causes some people to behave so atrociously towards innocent council employees. 

Is it a manifestation of the decay of civility in this godforsaken postmodern era, a process spurred on by displays of psychopathic violence and foul language in movies and on TV? 

Does it relate to the contempt for authority in all its forms that flows from the anarchic forces unleashed by social media?

Or might it, perhaps, have something to with the domineering attitude of some local government folk towards members of the public—the people who pay their wages and whom they are elected or appointed to serve?

Dog days in Mosman Park

The mention of Mosman Park brought to mind a report I read recently of a Town of Mosman Park council meeting.   The report, by David Hudlestone, was published in the Subiaco Post on 30 September last under the alluring headline ‘Dog owners savage ranger’. 

To cut a very long story short, the Mosman Park council had decided to ‘crack down’ on dog owners after an elderly lady hurt herself falling over an unleashed dog.  The mayor, Ron Norris, made it pretty clear during the meeting that the council had acted less out of concern for the wellbeing of frail old ladies than from a fear of costly litigation.

It appears that the ranger was enforcing the crackdown with a degree of zeal bordering on the bizarre and relying on powers that—so far as I know—municipal rangers don’t in fact possess.

 Not surprisingly, Mosman Park dog owners were outraged.  They turned up to the September council meeting in considerable numbers to complain about how the ranger was doing his job.

One resident described the ranger’s behaviour as ‘confrontational’.  The ranger had asked for information about his dog, then fined him $200.  

The complainant continued: ‘Naturally I objected to this as the dog was on the lead and then he said, “what’s your date of birth?” and that’s when I blew up’.

As the complainant walked off, the ranger shouted ‘Well, that’s another $400 for withholding information’.

A resident who told of having received three fines totalling $600 said the ranger had threatened to arrest her for refusing to give him her name and date of birth.

Another resident said that women in their eighties were walking their dogs at 5 am to stay out of the ranger’s way.  He added that the ranger ‘had all the people skills of an SS guard’ and accused him of hiding in the bushes and jumping out ‘on little old ladies and little old men’.

Yet others alleged that the ranger took video footage of people walking their dogs.  They wanted to know where the footage was kept.

To cap it all, the ranger was alleged by a witness to have parked his vehicle illegally in a dangerous position on a local street while confronting the resident mentioned above as having ‘blown up’ when asked for his date of birth.

Mayor Norris pointed out that the council had advertised its intention to enforce dog laws more strictly.  He said there had been a warning period before the crackdown was enforced.  However, he accepted residents' concerns about ‘the manner in which it is being applied’.

There is no indication, by the way, that residents were opposed in principle to council’s decision to enforce its dog policy more strictly—though they might not have been too happy about the size of the fines.  In my experience, most dog owners are responsible people who understand the need to keep their animals on a leash in public places.

What upset the dog enthusiasts of Mosman Park was the bullying attitude of the ranger, who if what residents alleged was true—as the mayor seems to have acknowledged—was hardly the kind of person to entrust with a position that would bring him into daily contact with the public.

‘Man, proud man, dress’d in a little brief authority…’

Unfortunately, his is only an extreme example of an attitude I’ve often encountered in dealing with public servants at various levels of government.   Too many such individuals mistakenly regard being a public servant as a mark of moral and intellectual superiority that sets them apart from the common ruck of humankind.

That’s no less true of holders of political office, many of whom tend to identify more closely with their colleagues, including their political opponents, than with the people whose interests they were elected to serve.

Underlying this phenomenon is a deep distrust of ordinary people. Often that distrust is mingled with contempt. 

I’ve heard politicians refer sarcastically to voters as ‘the punters’.  A friend of mine, formerly a senior public servant in Canberra, once countered my mildly libertarian stance on some forgotten topic by saying heatedly that ‘people need to be managed’. 

And who can forget the opinion of a certain shire president that allowing anyone other than a councillor to chair an advisory group would result in what he called ‘a dog’s breakfast’, i.e. a stuff-up or mess?

Cartoon © Judy Horacek from her cartoon collection Make Cakes Not War (Scribe Publications 2007)