Kiama Council wants submissions on a dead budget

A timeline of the farce. More time for the process, less time for the public.

The federal budget had a good run on the front page. Then Kiama Council kept asking the community to make submissions on a draft budget the CEO had already confirmed was obsolete, and stole the show. You can’t write this stuff. Except they did. In two media releases on the same day. Then again on social media. And again. And again.

This is my understanding of the timeline from the public record. Happy to be corrected.

  • 7 May  Mayor McDonald and CEO Stroud annouce they met Minister Hoenig at Parliament House. Mayor says he is “confident of a positive outcome” on the PIO.
  • 13 May  Council posts on social media that “budgets are officially having a moment” and asks the community to submit on the draft budget by 24 May
  • 14 May  Council publishes first media release of the day. It announces an Extraordinary Meeting on 30 June and mentions a “potential” ministerial extension to the PIO. The reason given for the delay: staff need more time to read community submissions.
  • 14 May, 3:25 PM  Member for Kiama Katelin McInerney issues a statement welcoming the extension and acknowledging the United Services Union, staff and community members who advocated against the proposed budget cuts.
  • 14 May Council publishes its second media release of the day, welcoming the PIO  extension. The CEO confirms the services proposed for cutting in the draft budget will now be retained. This is very interesting and I will give it some more thought. Council CEOs do not, as a rule, publicly thank the union that has been campaigning against their own draft budget. That is not standard practice
  • 14 May, 4:26 PM The Minister’s office issues a media release proposing the extension.
  • 24 May Submissions still close. On a budget the CEO has confirmed needs to change.
  • 30 June  Extraordinary Meeting. Staff get the extra time. The community does not.

Read that again.

The CEO has given herself and council staff extra time to read submissions. She has not given the community extra time to write them on a budget that now reflects the actual situation.

The draft budget on exhibition was built around a deadline that moved on 14 May. The services it proposed cutting are no longer being cut. Council is still asking you to submit on it before 24 May.

The submission period should be extended. Full stop.

This is all your submission needs to say. Copy it. Send it.

Given the Minister for Local Government proposed a variation to the Performance Improvement Order on 14 May 2026 extending the budget deadline by twelve months, I ask Council to pause the exhibition period, revise the draft budget to reflect the new timeline, and give the community adequate time to respond.

Add your name and address. Send it to yoursay.kiama.nsw.gov.au and council@kiama.nsw.gov.au and councillors@kiama.nsw.gov.au

before 24 May.

Want to say more? Step by step submission guide here

Media releases referenced: Minister for Local Government Ron Hoenig, 14 May 2026, 4:26 PM. Kiama Municipal Council, “Kiama Council to hold Extraordinary Meeting for Budget,” 14 May 2026. Kiama Municipal Council, “Kiama Council welcomes Performance Improvement Order extension,” 14 May 2026.

A note from me. I am a community member, not a council spokesperson and not a journalist on a deadline. I am doing my very best to make sense of this bombardment of information and what it means for our town and our families. If I have got something wrong, tell me and I will fix it. If I have got something right, send your submission before 24 May.

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.

Kiama Council’s Easter ambush sparks anger over cuts closed doors and police

Kiama Council dropped an extraordinary meeting agenda on the Thursday before a four day Easter break, then set the meeting on for the following Tuesday, the first day back. The agenda carried sweeping proposed savings across community life, including youth, cultural and community services, visitor services, tourism, library hours, Leisure Centre hours, the pensioner rebate, community donations and sponsorships, staff positions, and the proposed relocation of the Pilot’s Cottage Museum and Visitor Information Centre.

People in Kiama understand there is a budget problem. They understand Council is operating under a Performance Improvement Order and that difficult decisions are in front of it.

The anger has come from the way this was handled. Material of this scale was put into the public arena on the eve of a long weekend, when people were heading into Easter, then debated the moment the holiday ended. Councillors had already been through workshops and briefings. The community got a scramble.

The public forum timing sharpened the sense that this was being pushed through rather than opened up. Instead of the breathing space most people would expect before a decision of this size, public access was held immediately before the meeting itself.

People were expected to absorb complex proposals, organise their thoughts, speak, and watch councillors move into debate, all in the same late afternoon.

Then came the access arrangements. On the afternoon of the meeting, Council announced that the administration building would close at 4 pm, the public gallery would be limited to 20 attendees, protest material would not be permitted inside chambers or council workplaces, security would manage access, and NSW Police had been advised of the intended protest. That combination told its own story.

Community anger was being managed as a risk event at the very moment residents were trying to be heard.

This is the part Council seems not to have understood. When you put youth services, community services, library hours, tourism functions, the pensioner rebate, staff positions and local heritage on the table, people will react. When you do it before a four day break and bring it on for the first day back, they will react harder. When you then tighten access and prepare for protest, they draw their own conclusions.

Watch community concerns on WIN4 News here 

The question now is larger than one difficult meeting. Kiama has already seen police called to a tense council gathering in recent years. That gives this latest episode a wider significance. Residents are entitled to ask whether this is becoming a pattern, late release of major decisions, compressed opportunities for public response, and a readiness to treat dissent as a security problem rather than a democratic reality.

No one expects budget repair to be painless. People do expect honesty, time and respect. They expect to see the problem clearly, weigh the trade offs, and speak before the process tightens around them. That did not happen here.

You would hope this is not how Kiama Council plans to handle major public decisions from here. It looks too much like another way of shutting down community voices. And once a council starts hearing community anger as a threat instead of a message, it has lost sight of the room.

In what parallel universe is history a discount code for present day suffering!

There is something almost impressive about the confidence it takes to defend a present day war by reaching for a greatest hits list of other disasters.

World War I lasted longer.
World War II lasted longer.
Vietnam lasted longer.
Korea lasted longer.
Iraq lasted longer.

Thank goodness that has cleared things up.

By that standard, the public is not supposed to ask whether this war is justified, whether the goals keep shifting, whether families can afford to live through it, or whether turning whole regions into trauma zones counts as a problem. We are apparently meant to calm down because, in the grand timeline of human ruin, this one has not yet made the podium. Reuters and ABC both reported Trump framing the current war that way, urging Americans to “keep this conflict in perspective” and calling it “an investment in your children and your grandchildren’s future.”

It is a remarkable political trick. Take a fresh wound, stand it beside several amputations, then announce that everyone is being dramatic.

Perspective, it is not. It is comparative minimisation with a flag wrapped around it.

A shorter war can still be grotesque. A newer war can still be catastrophic. A war that has not yet reached the age of Vietnam does not become wise, noble or economically sensible through the simple passage of fewer months.

This is were it goes beyond the pale ( as if it could get worse). It asks ordinary people to lower their standards in real time. Do not ask whether this should be happening. Ask whether it is, historically speaking, long enough to deserve your concern. Do not measure the dead, the displaced, the fear, the cost of groceries, the cost of fuel, the cost of public trust. Measure the calendar.

It is the politics of lowered expectations. Your power bill is up, your food bill is up, global tensions are up, and the sales pitch is that other wars were even worse.

How reassuring.

History is not meant to be used as a discount code for present day suffering.

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.

No way, Jose – Trump does not get to smash the region and then pose as the man who came to save global trade.

Media heading this morning “Trump needs troops to seize the Strait of Hormuz. These are his options”
This is exactly how war gets laundered. The person who lit the fire is recast as the man arriving with the hose.
Once the story shifts to strategy, capability and whether America can pull it off, the original act of aggression starts to slip out of frame. The public is invited to admire the logistics, the resolve, the sheer competence of the response.
Suddenly the question is no longer why this war began. The question becomes whether Trump can deliver a win.
That is how leaders escape responsibility. The destruction they set in motion is folded into a new storyline where they get to play rescuer, defender and strongman all at once.
At between US$1.6 and US$1.9 billion a day, this war is already consuming money on a scale most people can barely picture. That money could have gone into health, housing, education, renewable energy, disaster recovery, food security and public transport.
It could have strengthened lives instead of tearing them apart.
And the meter is still running.
We do not yet know how many lives will be lost.
We do know who made this possible.
We do know who chose escalation.
We do know that media language matters.
The moment coverage starts treating the author of a crisis as the hero of its resolution, journalism stops asking the most important question.
Who created this mess in the first place?
No way, Jose – He does not get to smash the region and then pose as the man who came to save global trade.

When power starts suing its way through democracy

As a citizen journalist, one of the key things I write about is abuse of power. It shows up in local councils, institutions, corporations and political systems. It shows up wherever people with status, money or authority decide the rules should protect them more than the public.

Watching court case after court case announced by the Trump administration, I cannot think of a clearer modern example.

Its become an embedded governing style. As of 20 March 2026, Lawfare was tracking 233 active cases challenging Trump administration actions and 22 suits brought by the administration against states or local governments. Reuters reported on 20 March that the administration had also sued Harvard, seeking to recover billions in federal funds over allegations of antisemitism.

This scale shows how lawsuits work far beyond the courtroom. They operate in the imagination. Every new case carries a message. If you resist, this can become expensive. If you push back, we can drain your time, your focus and your resources. Even when a defendant eventually wins, the punishment has already started.

A courtroom becomes a theatre of intimidation. The people in the gallery take the message home.

The Harvard case lays out the playbook. Take an institution in public view, threaten its funding, force it into a costly fight and let everyone else watch. Universities will see exactly what is being demonstrated. So will every organisation tied to public money.

Australia uses a different model, and some parts of that model offer stronger democratic safeguards. We channel many disputes through administrative review rather than permanent courtroom war. The Administrative Review Tribunal recorded 59,752 lodgements between 14 October 2024 and 30 June 2025. 0 We have a structure that, at least in theory, allows citizens to challenge government decisions through review rather than spectacle.

Still, Australia leaves people exposed in another way. The Human Rights Law Centre says the ACT remains the only Australian jurisdiction with anti SLAPP laws, and even those protections are narrower than stronger overseas models. So while our politics may be less theatrical, wealthy people and powerful institutions can still use legal threat to intimidate critics, campaigners, journalists and ordinary citizens.

Abuse of power often arrives in polished form, a statement of claim, a demand for documents, a threat over costs, a lawyer’s letter written to sound reasonable while applying pressure. The language is formal. The intention is unmistakable.

Do what I want, or I will make this hurt.

A healthy democracy needs courts. It also needs limits on the use of law as a weapon. It needs strong anti SLAPP protections. It needs independent media. It needs citizens willing to keep speaking when power would prefer quiet.

That is one of the reasons I keep writing about abuse of power. Once you learn to recognise the pattern, you start seeing it everywhere.