Community Advocacy and Governance Archives - Page 2 of 4 - Clover Hill Diaries

Kiama Council – Two big plans. One deadline. Not enough time.

This morning I sent a formal submission on the Draft Employment Lands Strategy and yesterday on the Draft Delivery Program and Operational Plan 2026 to 27 to Kiama Municipal Council. Both close for public comment on 24 May 2026.

The Draft Delivery Program and Operational Plan 2026 to 27 went to Joe Gaudiosi, Director Corporate and Commercial and Kimberley Norton, Head of Implementation, and every single councillor.

The Draft Employment Lands Strategy submission went to the Director of Strategies and Communities, the Manager of Planning and Development, the Strategic Planning Coordinator, and every single councillor.

Here is what I said and why it is important to you.

On the Delivery Program

The Draft Delivery Program and Operational Plan is a new document. The community has had no prior opportunity to respond to it. It directly controls how every rate dollar gets spent this year, including the annual budget, revenue policy, rates, fees and charges.

I asked council to extend the submission period by a minimum of four weeks so residents can engage with it properly, independently of the Employment Lands Strategy. Two documents, one deadline, is not genuine consultation. It is a timetable designed to exhaust you.

On the Employment Lands Strategy

The community already submitted on this document in round one. Eighty-five people. The plan changed. The word UPDATED on the council website is proof that submissions work. Here is what they said

Three issues from round one were noted by council and left unresolved. I raised all three.

Businesses are leaving Kiama. Round one submissions from business owners said directly that the lack of suitable industrial land is forcing them to relocate to other LGAs. Council noted it and made no change. I asked council to include a clear business retention commitment in the final strategy, including how they will measure whether businesses are staying, growing, or being forced out.

The Shoalhaven Street rezoning creates a new problem on the Minnamurra River. The proposed rezoning of the Shoalhaven Street precinct removes existing industrial land from Kiama. To offset that loss, council is proposing to rezone the Minnamurra Waste Depot to General Industrial. The Minnamurra Waste Depot sits on the banks of the Minnamurra River. Rezoning land in that location to General Industrial raises serious environmental questions the engagement report does not address. I asked council to confirm in writing exactly how no net loss of industrial land will be achieved, including the site, the zoning pathway, the environmental assessment, the timing, and the replacement capacity. Proposing to solve one planning problem by creating another on the banks of the Minnamurra River is a question the community deserves a direct answer to.

63.2% of Kiama residents travel outside the LGA for work. The NSW Department of Planning told council the strategy should make a stronger case for change on this. I asked council to include measurable targets and a review timeline for improving that figure, rather than treating the loss of local jobs as something that just happens.

What the plans actually say

Before you submit, it helps to know what you are dealing with.

The Draft Delivery Program and Operational Plan 2026 to 27 is the document that decides how your rates get spent this year. Think of it as council’s budget and to-do list rolled into one. An independent review found that a lot of the promises in it are written in a way that makes them impossible to check. How do you know if council did what it said it would? Often you can’t. Several items also depend on money council hasn’t got yet. And while it talks about getting finances back on track, there is nothing in it that shows how Kiama stays financially healthy for the long haul. One good year doesn’t fix years of problems.

A step by step guide to making your own submission, including a template and the questions worth asking, is here

Read my submission here.

The Draft Employment Lands Strategy is the document that decides where the jobs go, where businesses can set up, and what gets built where for the next 20 years. If you run a business in Kiama, want to work closer to home, care about what happens at Bombo Quarry, or live near the Minnamurra River, this document affects you. Read it here

Both close 24 May.

A submission on its own is a paper trail. Many submissions on the same issues are a pattern council cannot dismiss.

Have your say here: yoursay.kiama.nsw.gov.au

Why I am sharing this

I am not a lawyer or a planner. I am someone who lives here and got fed up. If I can do this, so can you. Pick one thing that affects your street, your kids, your business or your back pocket and write it down. Five minutes. 24 May. That’s it.

Kiama locals have a chance to make Council listen, use it

The Kiama Municipal Council Draft Delivery Program and Operational Plan 2026 to 27 is open for submissions. Here’s why this one needs your voice and how five minutes of your time can make it harder for our council to pretend nobody cared.

You have until 24 May 2026 to be on record. After that, you handed your say to someone else.

Every four years, a newly elected council makes promises to the community. The Delivery Program is where those promises get written down, funded and turned into actual actions. The Operational Plan is the year by year version, spelling out exactly what gets done, when, and what it costs.

This is not a planning document for planners. This is the document that decides whether the footpath outside your house gets fixed, whether the community program your kids rely on keeps running, whether council is actually spending your rates on what it said it would.

The NSW Office of Local Government sets out what a Delivery Program must contain. It must demonstrate commitment to the community. It must show how services will be prioritised and measured. It must address ongoing improvements to efficiency, financial management and governance. It must identify services council will review during its term.

This draft falls short of those requirements. This is a question of whether the document meets the standard it is legally required to meet.

“If your accountant handed you a budget this vague, you would find a new accountant. Kiama deserves better than this.”

This is your moment. Your name belongs on this. Get in the room

Maybe you’ve submitted before. Maybe you’ve spoken at meetings, written letters, shown up. And maybe it felt like your words went nowhere.

Submissions that name specific items, in your own words, from real residents, create a paper trail that cannot be buried. They go on the public record. They get read aloud at meetings. They become evidence.

And if you’ve never done it before and don’t know where to start, that’s exactly why this post exists. We’ll walk you through it, step by step. It’s simpler than you think.

Look at the draft sitting on the council website right now. See that word: UPDATED.

That happened because people spoke up, council listened, and the plan changed. This is exactly how it is supposed to work. And it worked here, in Kiama, because residents chose to show up.

So when you submit this time, you are adding your name to something that is already moving. You are part of a community that has already proved it can shift things.

And there is a second reason, just as important. Every submission goes on the public record. If any decision in this plan is later challenged, reviewed, or examined by the Office of Local Government, by a journalist, or by a future council, your submission is proof that the community was paying attention. That the people of Kiama saw this, understood it, and said something about it.

That record belongs to all of us. Make sure your name is in it.

Check yoursay.kiama.nsw.gov.au for confirmed dates as these can shift.

What to write

You don’t need to be a planner, a lawyer, or a political scientist. You need to be a resident who has noticed something.

Here’s a simple submission template (adapt freely)

Who you are. Your name and suburb. If you want to remain anonymous to the public but not council, say so. You can request your name be withheld from published submissions.
What you’re responding to. Name the specific item, project, or section of the plan you’re commenting on. Vague submissions are easier to dismiss.
What you want changed or protected. Are you asking for something to be added? Removed? Better resourced? More transparent in its reporting? Be specific.
Why it counts. One or two sentences. This is your voice. Use everyday language.
What you’d like council to do. End with a clear ask. “I ask council to…” is a sentence that’s hard to ignore in a formal process.

Things worth asking about

When council says it will improve community wellbeing, how will anyone know if that actually happened? What does success look like in a way a normal person can check?

When a commitment in this plan is not delivered, what happens? Who is responsible and what does the community get told about it?

When plans change mid year, how do residents find out? Is there a phone call, a letter, a post on Facebook? Or does it just get dropped without a word?

The plan talks about financial recovery. But is this council on track for long term financial sustainability, or just a one year result that looks good on paper? A single year back in the black is not a strategy. The community deserves to know the difference.

What does the executive leadership of this council cost, and how is that performance measured and reported to residents?

Is the community engagement in this plan genuine, or is it a checklist? What changes when the community says something council does not want to hear?

If those questions don’t have clear answers in the plan, that’s your submission.

The plan doesn’t just describe what council will do. It describes what council thinks the community will accept.

Should this plan go back to the drawing board?

Yes. And you are allowed to say so.

Councillors have the power to send this back for a rewrite before it is adopted. This is exactly what the process exists for. If you believe this plan is not good enough, tell council this. Tell your councillors this. Use these words:

“I ask council to defer adoption of this plan and rewrite it to meet the requirements set out by the NSW Office of Local Government.”

More voices, harder to ignore

Individual submissions are powerful. Collective submissions are formidable. Both count.

If you have neighbours, friends, or a local group who share your concerns, coordinate. Not to copy each other (unique submissions carry more weight), to ensure the same theme appears multiple times from multiple people. That volume is hard to dismiss as a fringe view.

Share this post. Print it. Leave it where people will see it. The consultation period is short. The plan is long. But you don’t need to read all of it. You just need to find the part that affects your street, your family, your community, and say something about it.

That’s democracy. And it works best when people actually use it.

How to submit

1. Visit yoursay.kiama.nsw.gov.auand find the Draft Delivery Program 2026 to 27 listing.

2. Download the draft plan. You don’t need to read all of it. Use the search function to find topics relevant to you.

3. Submit via the online form, or by email to council@kiama.nsw.gov.au AND councillors@kiama.nsw.gov.au.

4. Keep a copy of your submission so you can to refer to it later.

Your name on the record is harder to ignore than your opinion on Facebook

UPDATE – a great deal has happened since I wrote this post. A week can make a big diference to the political landcape. Get the lowdown here

The $1 Million Plane, the $500K Donations, and the Three Words That Admit Everything

“Everybody Does It” is an admission, not an argument. And it tells you everything you need to know about whose interests our political system is actually serving.

When supporters of any political party reach for “everybody does it,” they have already made the most important admission in the argument. The system is working for powerful interests, and ordinary Australians are footing the bill in ways most people simply do not realise.

Consider the Fuel Tax Credits Scheme, which refunds mining companies for the diesel excise paid on their operations. In the 2024-25 financial year the scheme is projected to cost Australian taxpayers $10.2 billion, with $4.8 billion of that going directly to the mining industry. At roughly $10 billion per year, the scheme costs more than Australia spends on foreign aid and more than several major defence programs. Rinehart is also thought to be a major backer of the Institute of Public Affairs, the influential think tank that has called for the abolition of the minimum wage

This is what “footing the bill” actually looks like. Public money flowing to the most profitable industry in the country, workers denied the wages they have earned, and the political donations that help keep those arrangements in place. The connection between who donates and who benefits is a straight line.

The question voters should be asking it: do you want to be part of fixing it, or part of entrenching it?

This is a question about the kind of democracy we want, and whether we are willing to hold it to the same standards we apply everywhere else in life. We expect better from our children. We expect better in our workplaces. We expect better in a court of law. The moment “everybody does it” becomes acceptable in politics, we have handed the keys of public life to whoever has the deepest pockets and the least shame.

Nobody gives very large sums of money to a political party out of the goodness of their heart. That is common sense about how human relationships work.

Consider the difference between donating to a sporting group and donating to a political party. A donation to a netball association or a swimming club buys goodwill, perhaps a naming right on a scoreboard. A donation to a political party buys access to people who hold direct power over the donor’s business interests. Regulations. Approvals. Environmental protections. Workplace laws. The recipient of a political donation holds power that a sporting body simply does not.

AEC disclosures show that Hancock Prospecting channelled $500,000 in donations to the Coalition, with the then Opposition Leader also hosted at fundraisers where guests paid $14,000 a head, an amount kept deliberately just below the threshold requiring public disclosure. The relationship with One Nation runs just as deep. A company within the Rinehart empire gifted a $1 million plane to One Nation leader Pauline Hanson, and two executives from within the same Hancock empire separately donated $500,000 each to the party. This is a systemic pattern across multiple parties, and the people saying “everybody does it” are proving exactly that point.

When multiple parties are funded by the same powerful interests, the policy direction is already decided before you get to vote. Your ballot should mean something. It does not, when the people on both sides of the ballot paper answer to the same donors.

Australia passed electoral reform legislation, and new donation caps come into effect in January 2027. HOWEVER donors can still spread contributions across multiple state and federal branches of a party to reduce disclosure obligations, and peak industry bodies, including those representing the mining sector, can donate up to four times the standard gift cap. Reform and resolution are two very different things.

So how do we normalise doing the right thing?

This is the question at the heart of everything, and the one that gets pushed aside whenever politicians would rather argue with each other than answer to you.

Every norm we take for granted today was once considered idealistic. Equal voting rights. The end of child labour. Transparency in public life. Each became normal because enough people decided it should be, and then voted accordingly.

Morality in public life is a choice. It does not arrive on its own. Political integrity is what a functioning democracy looks like, and it is precisely what Climate 200 supported independents have built their platform around. The proposition is straightforward: your elected representative should answer to you, the voter, rather than to whoever funded their campaign.

That is the standard we should expect from everybody in public life. Voting for independents committed to that standard is the most direct way to say so.

“Everybody does it” is an admission that the system is broken. So let’s fix it. Read this article, share it with everybody you know, and when you get to the ballot box remember who answered to you and who answered to their donors.

We live in a world where petrol prices have become our moral compass

There is something bleakly revealing that the NYTimes tell us pollsters are wondering whether petrol at more than US$4 a gallon will finally dent Donald Trump’s support. In the United States, the national average has just moved above that mark for the first time since 2022, driven by war with Iran and the disruption of oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz. Reuters reported the shift this week.

Think about what that says.

A president can help drag the world into another ruinous conflict. Thousands can die. Billions can be burned. The White House can be treated like a developer’s vanity project. Washington’s cultural and historic institutions can be pushed around as if they are items on a personal mood board. Yet the thing that may finally make the rusted on pause is the cost of filling the car.

This is hedonism. It is a form of citizenship so narrowed by self interest that mass suffering, public waste and institutional vandalism barely register until the pain arrives at the petrol bowser.

This week a federal judge halted Trump’s $400 million White House ballroom project, finding he lacked authority to push ahead without congressional approval. The project had already involved demolition of the East Wing and formed part of a broader push to remake Washington landmarks, including the Kennedy Center.

So this is the picture. A leader can preside over war abroad and grandiosity at home, and for many supporters the real test still comes down to whether the weekly drive costs a bit more.

In any rational world pollsters would focus on food prices. Food hits every household, whether they drive or not. But petrol has always had unusual political power because people see it in giant numbers on roadside signs. It is immediate, public and emotional. Pollsters know that. Politicians know that. It becomes shorthand for pain, even when far greater harms are unfolding in plain sight.

What if we put the weekly cost of bread, milk, fruit, school lunches and basic groceries on billboards the way we do petrol, and people might start talking about cost of living in a way that reflects actual life.

It would expose the absurdity, wouldn’t it.

So yes, there is something in that.

Petrol has political power partly because it is turned into public theatre. Food, even though it is more fundamental, stays tucked inside receipts, shopping trolleys and household stress.

If petrol prices are what finally cracks the rusted on, it will not be because they have reflected deeply on leadership, democracy or human suffering. It will be because the consequences have at last reached their own windscreen.

My morning news routine, strong espresso and friends who make me think

Are you short on time, or feeling a little overwhelmed by the news?

You are not alone. The modern news cycle can feel relentless. The world appears on our screens each morning with fresh evidence that humanity has been busy overnight.

Staying connected still matters.

Understanding the bigger picture helps us make sense of the conversations around us and the decisions that shape our communities and our democracies.

The good news is that it does not require hours of reading or watching the news.

Here are five easy ways to stay across the world in ten minutes a day.

The Daily Aus
Posts that explain Australian news in simple language designed for younger audiences.

Suggest checking out their Good News Newsletter

ABC News In-depth
Short explainers, interviews and quick context pieces.

The Juice Media
Their “Honest Government Ads” are widely shared and often act as an entry point for younger viewers into policy debates.

The Squiz
A short daily newsletter summarising the biggest stories in a few minutes.

ABC News Daily
A 10–15 minute podcast that explains one major story each day.

The Conversation daily briefing
Articles written by academics that explain the context behind major news issues.

Google News daily summary
A personalised summary of major stories gathered from multiple news outlets.

BTW After a quick tour through these offerings, I can understand why some young people prefer to talk to their friends instead.

Why this post now…….

A few days ago I was talking with a 26 year old friend.

Bright, curious, engaged with people around her. The sort of person who brings energy into a room. She works hard, values her friendships and carries a good sense of humour about life.

During our conversation I mentioned a news story about several Iranian women footballers seeking asylum.

She looked puzzled.

She had not heard the story.
She did not know where Iran was.

I spend a lot of time working with young people through community programs and conversations like this come up more often than many people realise.

The young adults I meet care deeply about the people around them. Many volunteer, support friends through difficult moments and think seriously about the kind of world they want to live in.

They are also part of a generation that has grown up with a relentless news cycle.

Bushfires, floods and droughts, a global pandemic, wars filling social media feeds, constant warnings about climate change and economic instability.

Which is understandable. The modern news cycle sometimes feels less like information and more like standing under a fire hose.

Researchers at the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism been tracking this trend in their global Digital News Report. Younger adults are increasingly selective about how much news they consume, often because the constant stream of crisis stories feels overwhelming.

The report was published in 2024. The world has been busy adding updates since then, with wars continuing in Ukraine and Gaza, the United States and Israel bombing Iran and a terrorist attack in Sydney reminding Australians that global tensions do not always stay overseas.

Information also arrives differently now.

I like to think I keep a reasonable eye on the world.

The morning routine helps. First the The Sydney Morning Herald, then The Conversation. Between the two of them you get a fairly solid overview of humanity’s latest achievements and a mindfield of face palm spectacular lapses in judgement.

With Donald Trump and his friend Benjamin Netanyahu dominating the headlines, the news feed does tend to lean heavily toward the latter. On some mornings it feels as if about three quarters of the front page involves Trump in one form or another.

After that I strongly recommend a conversation with a kind, compassionate human being. Preferably over a very good espresso. It helps when the headlines are stronger

My Facebook feed is curated with similar care. Over the years I have gathered a tribe of people who read widely, argue politely and challenge my thinking about something I thought I had already figured out.

They add to my knowledge. They challenge my biases. They point out things I missed while making my morning coffee.

It beats arguing with strangers on the internet.

They are the kind of friends I hope young people find. People who help each other think more clearly about the world rather than simply shouting about it.

Democracy does not arrive on the wings of fighter jets

The phrase “real men solve problems with bombs” is not strength. It is a recruitment slogan for other people’s funerals.

The news from the Gold Coast carried a familiar tone of celebration. Five Iranian women footballers, including captain Zahra Ghanbari, escaping their government minders and being granted humanitarian visas in Australia. There were photos, cheers, and, as the Home Affairs Minister cheerfully reported, a spontaneous chant of “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie”.

For many Australians it felt like a simple story. Brave women rescued. Freedom offered. A good ending.

Stories like this have a powerful pull. They tap into an old idea that runs deep through Western political culture. The idea that someone will ride in on a white horse and save the day.

The white knight.

Across history the script has repeated itself. Strong men, often described as decisive or tough, step forward declaring that they will fix another country’s problems. The language shifts between defence, liberation, stability or democracy. The outcome rarely matches the promise.

Think Vietnam. Iraq. Afghanistan. Libya.

Each began with claims that intervention would deliver freedom. Each left societies fractured, institutions weakened and millions of ordinary people carrying the cost for generations.

What is missing from the white knight story is the people who actually live in those countries.

Iranians are not waiting for outsiders to rescue them. They have been debating the future of their country for decades. Students, women, writers, workers, clerics, reformers and conservatives all argue fiercely about what Iran should become. The struggle inside the country is real, complex and deeply Iranian.

History shows something else as well. Lasting change almost always grows from inside a society, not from outside armies.

South Africa dismantled apartheid through internal resistance and negotiation.
Indonesia moved away from dictatorship after mass civil pressure.
Eastern European countries rebuilt themselves after the collapse of the Soviet bloc through internal political movements and public demand for change.

External pressure can sometimes open space. It can support civil society. It can amplify voices that governments try to silence.

War does the opposite. It crushes the very people who might build a different future.

The phrase “real men solve problems with bombs” is not strength. It is a recruitment slogan for other people’s funerals.

Strength measured in explosions is a very old idea. It has left a trail of ruined cities and broken societies.

The Iranian footballers who escaped in Australia remind us of something far more hopeful. People everywhere want the same thing. The chance to live safely, to speak freely and to shape the future of their own country.

That future will not arrive on a white horse.

It will be built by Iranians themselves.

Don and Ben – the hero, the villain and the rest of us.

Today’s thoughts on the latest mess the bullies have delivered ……

Initial media coverage followed a trope as old as time.

Iran cast as the villain.
The United States and Israel riding in as the heroes.
The rest of us cast as the people who need saving.

Every culture tells this story.

The villain threatens the village.
The villagers wait to be rescued.
The hero arrives on the white horse.

War reporting regularly slips into this pattern. The roles feel familiar. We all recognise them.

Every story like this skips the same question.

What outcome is the operation meant to deliver?

The SMH’s Peter Hartcher has already warned where this road can lead, an early military success drifting into what he called a “politico-military muddle”.

Military strategist Mick Ryan points to Iraq and Afghanistan. The bombing opens the story. The political outcome writes the ending.

Remove a leader and the next questions arrive immediately.

Who governs Iran?
What stabilises the region?
What outcome marks success?

Each time Donald Trump speaks about the objective the explanation shifts. Prevention. Regime change. Deterrence.

Strategy begins with a destination.

Without one, events take control.

History contains plenty of examples.

Most end exactly where Peter Hartcher suggested. A politico-military muddle.

Will Australia show courage or sleepwalk past it

Courage isn’t surviving a paper straw. Courage is leadership that refuses another war.

Canada has stepped up and said what we are all thinking.

There comes a point where caution stops being wisdom and starts looking like fear.

Canada has shown some courage.

Australia now has the same opportunity.

The question is whether our leaders recognise the moment

or sleepwalk past it.

Read this excellent article in The Conversation here

Australian values belong to the people who live them not to politicians who weaponise them

When Pauline Hanson claims “Australian values”, I cringe.

When Angus Taylor mirrors it, I cringe again.

These are leaders who trade in suspicion. Who elevate culture as a test. Who talk about countries that supposedly fail us. Who tighten the definition of belonging and call it strength.

Then they reach for “Australian values”.

The Australia I know runs on a fair go. Equal treatment under the law. Decent schools. Decent healthcare. Work hard and get ahead. Once you are here, you stand in the same queue.

Researchers writing in The Conversation asked Australians what a fair go means. Strong support for equal opportunity. Strong support for access to education and healthcare. More than half gave the highest possible agreement to recent migrants having the same opportunity as everyone else to get ahead.

That feels familiar.

When I shared the article, my Facebook tribe responded in minutes. Fairness. Decency. Treat people properly. Play by the rules. Give newcomers a chance. It read like the country I recognise.

So when “Australian values” is used to narrow the circle, I recoil. The phrase belongs to all of us. It does not belong to the loudest voice in the room.

Read the article in The Conversation here

Thank you one of my Facebook tribe for this wonderful sentiment image

Ht to Bill Piggott who shared this with me on Facebook

“Australian values are visible when kindness, care, collaboration, compassion and reciprocity are recognised, encouraged, embraced and rewarded.”

Kiama and the art of the almost plan

Kiama’s principal public car park has been sold and the gates are now closed. The alternatives referenced in council papers are long-standing proposals, discussed and deferred over many years. Identification has never been the problem. Implementation has been.

If that feels familiar, it’s because it is.

Kiama hesitated over a town water supply in the 1890s, and the hesitation was framed as prudence. Debate ran not only through the township but across the municipality, particularly in Jamberoo and Gerringong Wards, where ratepayers questioned why they should fund projects centred on Terralong Street ( Kiama’s main street) from which they would see little direct benefit. Debt was feared. Overreach was feared. Spending on prevention felt optional.

Sanitary reports described open drains and contaminated tanks, and typhoid brought urgency to the discussion, though years still passed before execution followed debate. Pipes were laid along Terralong Street, but they were not connected to a dam, a reservoir or a pumping system. They were infrastructure in appearance only, awaiting a network that did not yet exist.

Then the fires came.

In October 1899 a blaze that began in Wood Brothers’ premises tore through the commercial heart of town, taking the Royal Hotel and a string of businesses as high winds carried flames from roof to roof. In December, before recovery was complete, another fire destroyed six more shops. Across the two events, twenty-two businesses were lost and families were displaced in a matter of hours.

The pipes were still not connected.

The cost of hesitation was ash, unemployment and reconstruction. A fire brigade without an adequate water supply can only do so much, and buckets have limits. Kiama did eventually build its water scheme, and in 1900 Fountaindale Dam was constructed as a declaration that the town had absorbed the lesson of fire. Fifty years later Jerrara Dam was added, another declaration of security and permanence.

Today, Kiama buys its water from elsewhere while both dams remain on the books, requiring maintenance even though they no longer perform the function for which they were built. There is something instructive about that, somewhere between heritage and hydraulics.

Before the dams there was the tramway, constructed at public expense on a gauge that prevented integration with the coming railway. Jamberoo and Gerringong Wards helped finance it, even though its benefit sat squarely in Kiama township. The locomotive could not properly negotiate the line, and within two years it was sold. The rails were lifted soon after. It was ambitious, and it was brief.

None of these decisions were taken lightly. They were made in good faith and under pressure, often in the belief that acting boldly demonstrated leadership.

We build for permanence, and we fund the consequences when permanence proves temporary.

Perhaps we are not poor at building. Perhaps we are optimistic about timing.

When you look at the decision before us now, what pattern do you see? Are we sequencing properly before we divest what currently works? Are we modelling the full life cycle of what we build and what we sell? Or are we confident that the future will accommodate the present?

History rarely repeats itself in identical form. It does, however, submit variations on a theme.

Source of Historical Information Kiama Library – Kiama Independent (1890 to 1909)