civic leadership Archives - Clover Hill Diaries

For Jamberoo Residents, Kiama Council Gaslighting Continues

As a member of the Jamberoo Valley Ratepayers and Residents Association, I recently read two pieces of correspondence from Kiama Council that left me flabbergasted.

In both cases, residents offered practical, low-cost solutions to very real local problems. One involved flooding. The other raised safety concerns about a proposed cycleway extension. Both ideas were constructive. Both could have sparked a genuine Council–community partnership.

Instead, they ran headlong into that familiar force, a masterclass in bureaucratic deflection.

You can read the full exchange for yourself here and here.

Here’s the short version:

Residents offered helpful suggestions.
Council replied with historical references, legal limitations, and a general tone of “nothing to see here.”
No invitation to meet. No curiosity. No sense of shared purpose.

The pattern is clear

Raise a concern, offer a solution, and Council will reply with:

A plan from 2005
A rule they’ve decided is immovable
And a warning that any change might require redoing a flawed $200,000 design

All of it technically accurate. None of it helpful.

It was a masterclass in how to appear responsive while ensuring nothing changes, a reply carefully worded to close down the conversation and leave Jamberoo residents seething.

Lest we forget, this is the same Council that already left Jamberoo with a $970,000 shortfall in infrastructure funding.

How hard is it to write a response like this?

“Thanks for raising this. It’s clear you’ve thought it through. While there are some process and legal considerations, we’d be happy to meet, look at the specifics, and explore whether a collaborative approach might be possible.”

Not revolutionary. Just reasonable.

We can do better

It makes you seriously wonder what direction staff are getting from the top. Because this isn’t about policy. It’s about showing up with a willingness to listen, to think, and to work alongside the people you serve.

It takes no courage to quote the rulebook. It takes courage to say, “You might be right. Let’s find a way.”

When thoughtful, constructive ideas are met with polite obstruction, something deeper is lost. Not just confidence in the process — but faith that the process was ever meant to serve the community at all.

The rules are not the issue. The absence of imagination is. The absence of leadership is.

And that, unlike drainage or bike paths, is not so easily fixed with a shovel or a line on a map.
It takes people willing to say, We can do better. Let’s begin.

Update

After publishing this post, I received a formal request from Kiama Council asking me to remove links to two emails sent by Council staff in response to community advocacy.

To clarify: those emails were sent to a local advocacy organisation. They relate to infrastructure and safety concerns raised on behalf of residents.

It is accepted practice to assume that Council’s correspondence would be shared with the people affected. That’s how transparency works. It’s also how democracy works.

Council’s objections appear less about privacy and more about controlling the narrative. In that sense, the complaint reads like a local-government-scale SLAPP – a Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation – intended to intimidate rather than inform.

I have declined their request.

That Council is now reading the blog is encouraging. May it be the beginning of more open dialogue, not the end of it.

FYI for other advocacy groups:

Council cannot claim privacy or confidentiality while engaging in correspondence with a publicly transparent group.
Their email responses are part of a public conversation, not a private one.
Attempting to restrict further distribution is a retrospective attempt to control optics, not a legitimate legal position.

#KiamaCouncil #LocalGovernment #Jamberoo #CommunityVoices #CivicLeadership #BureaucraticFailure #CouncilAccountability #PublicEngagement #InfrastructureMatters #WeCanDoBetter

What If We’re Teaching the Wrong History?

When I was at school, history was dates and battles, World War I, World War II, Gallipoli, the Depression. But even back then, 55 years ago, the Middle East was in turmoil, Southeast Asia was shifting under our feet, and Indigenous voices in Australia were demanding to be heard. None of that made it into the classroom.

We were taught facts. Not how to think about them.

No one ever asked: What can we learn from history? How do we hold different perspectives? What does it mean to disagree respectfully? Or to understand where someone else is coming from, even when we don’t agree?

And it matters, because if history doesn’t teach us how to listen, how to think, how to judge wisely, then we’re not learning history. We’re learning trivia.

Chris Wallace, a historian and professor, says the same thing in a recent ABC interview. She argues that decades of neoliberalism have narrowed the purpose of education into something transactional, training people to “get a job,” not become thoughtful citizens. History and literature have been among the first subjects to be cut. They’re seen as “nice to have,” not “must have.”

But what do we lose when we strip those subjects away?

We lose critical thinking. We lose wisdom. We lose the kind of broad understanding that helps societies steer through complexity without being manipulated by loud voices or narrow interests. As Wallace puts it, we end up with people in elite positions “who are highly trained—but not deeply educated.”

She’s not just talking about university. She’s talking about a mindset. And it’s showing up in the way we do democracy, especially at the local level.

We talk a lot about “community consultation” in local government. But let’s be honest, most of the time, it’s just a box-ticking exercise. Surveys, feedback forms, public meetings that go nowhere. We capture mass opinion, but we don’t help people work through the hard stuff: trade-offs, values, vision.

Jay Weatherill, the former SA Premier, says public opinion sits on a continuum—from magical thinking (“lower taxes and better services for all!”) to mature public judgement. And it’s the job of leadership to help us move along that line. Not by preaching. Not by pretending to have all the answers. But by creating space for proper dialogue.

That’s what good history teaches us too. That life is complex. That truth depends on where you’re standing. That understanding how we got here helps us work out where we go next.

It’s no wonder students are disengaging. As Wallace says, if you remove meaningful options, if there’s no space to explore Australia’s political history, social history, Indigenous history, then we’re not just dumbing down education. We’re forgetting our own story.

And when we forget our own story, we’re easy to manipulate. We stop asking questions. We confuse certainty with truth.

So here’s my hope.

That we teach history not just as a set of facts, but as a way of thinking.

That we expect more from civic engagement than noisy town halls.

That we stop asking people what they want and start asking why they want it, and what it will take.

That we invest not just in infrastructure, but in informed decision making, in the skills and tools communities need to think together.

Because democracy isn’t just about who wins the vote. It’s about whether we can still talk to each other after.

Additional reading option

Top Australian writers urge Albanese to abolish Job-Ready Graduates, calling their humanities degrees life changing

Humanities faculties are being restructured not because they cost too much to run, but because they are perceived to return too little. Yet the skills they foster – interpretive reasoning, ethical judgement, historical understanding – remain essential to democratic life.

This post is dedicated to a very wise man, Peter Bailey Brown , who I wish I met earlier

Peter Brown is a man whose legacy continues to unfold in paddocks, policies, and in the lives of the people he’s helped along the way. From the paddocks of Cudal to the boardrooms of international development…

Peter has never lost sight of what matters: listening, learning, and finding practical, human ways forward.

#HistoryMatters #CriticalThinking #PublicJudgement #DeliberativeDemocracy #CivicLeadership #Neoliberalism #EducationReform #DemocracyInPractice #CommunityVoice #LearningFromHistory #TeachTheWholeStory

What the Kiama surf club saga reveals about Council culture

New here?
This blog is part of a series that explores how local government decisions affect everyday people in the Kiama area. I’m a long-time resident and former civics reporter, and I write to help our community stay informed, ask better questions and understand how things are meant to work – especially when they don’t.

In a 2024 media release, Kiama Council CEO Jane Stroud responded to community concern about the Gerringong Surf Life Saving Club build.

At the time, she said:

“There are several important lessons to be learnt in this project in terms of community driven replacement of Council owned facilities versus planned strategic replacement and renewal of Council assets.”

That’s a loaded sentence.

On the surface, it sounds like collaboration. But read between the lines and you’ll spot a recurring theme in how this Council operates: control, deflection, and carefully curated language that shifts accountability without ever saying the word.

When the CEO refers to community-driven replacement versus planned strategic replacement, she is drawing a line between Council’s preferred way of working – slow, top-down, internal – and what actually happened: a local surf club took initiative, secured $6 million in funding, and managed a major public project on community land.

The club did what Council didn’t. And instead of asking what Council could learn from that, the statement subtly positions the community effort as the problem. As if the real issue is that the community acted – not that Council failed to meet its own development consent conditions, failed to date the construction agreement, and allowed the building to be occupied while key access issues were unresolved.

When asbestos was discovered during construction, Council agreed to contribute an additional $370,000 to help cover remediation costs. It was a necessary move, but also a telling one, especially when paired with what the CEO said next:

“We hope this half-million-dollar shortfall serves as an important lesson and a model for better collaboration in future community projects.”

This reads like gratitude wrapped in a warning. A way of saying, thanks for doing the hard work, but don’t do it like this again.

This is the heart of the problem. At Kiama Council, there is a pattern. When something doesn’t go to plan, the instinct is not to own the issue or bring the right people to the table. It is to recast the story. Reframe the facts. And remind everyone who holds the pen.

That might pass in internal briefings. But in a community? People notice. Because they remember who showed up. Who fundraised. Who built the thing. And who quietly waited for Council to catch up or come clean.

And let’s not forget, this wasn’t a private build on private land. The new surf club was constructed on community land, managed by Council. That means Council was the landowner, the regulator, and the eventual asset holder. So when asbestos was discovered during construction, the obvious question is: why didn’t Council already know it was there?

If Council had done the necessary environmental due diligence, it should have been flagged long before the project started. Instead, the cost of that oversight was shifted, again, to the community group doing the heavy lifting.

This is what happens when governance loses sight of its core job: to serve, support, and safeguard the public interest. Not to act surprised when the cracks show.

It’s time we stopped mistaking polished press releases for leadership. Real leadership is about working with the community, not against it. It’s about learning lessons, not assigning them.

And most of all, it’s about being honest – especially when it’s inconvenient.

#KiamaCouncil #LocalLeadership #CommunityAccountability #PublicLand #SurfClubBuild #AsbestosOversight #GovernanceMatters #CivicEngagement #DevelopmentConsent #InfrastructureTransparency

Are they public toilets if the public can’t reach them?

New here?

This blog explores the messy, fascinating business of local democracy in the Kiama local government area. I’m not a councillor, not council staff, and not on anyone’s payroll. I’m a long-time community member and former civics reporter for the local paper. I care about transparency, process, and making sure public decisions actually serve the public.

The post below is part of an ongoing series tracking what’s happening at the new Gerringong Surf Life Saving Club building. This time, we’re asking a basic question: what good are public toilets if the public can’t use them?

If you care about access, accountability, or the difference between what’s promised and what’s delivered, welcome, you’re in the right place.

On 23 April 2025, I wrote an article for The Bugle titled Let’s make Kiama beaches accessible to all ages, all abilities, all the time.

That article was the beginning of a conversation we will keep having until it becomes reality. I am continuing to work with John Maclean, who featured in the story, and with the wheelchair surfing community to help Kiama lead by example.

This is not a campaign for special treatment. It is about access for everyone. Kiama beaches and public spaces that are accessible to all ages, all abilities, all the time.

In December 2024, a private certifier issued an Occupation Certificate for the new Gerringong Surf Life Saving Club building. That certificate was meant to confirm the building was complete and ready for lawful use, including access for all.

Kiama Council has said the project includes $180,000 worth of public infrastructure. That includes accessible public toilets. This claim was repeated in a joint press release issued by Council and Gerringong SLSC in 2023.

So what was delivered?

There are public toilets on the southern side of the building. They are open, but they are not easily accessed by people using mobility aids. Meanwhile, the fully accessible toilets on the northern side are locked. They are located behind doors, reserved for surf club members only.

A public building, on public land, with restricted access

This is a Council-owned facility, funded by multiple levels of government. It sits on public land. It was built with the help of the community, approved through the development system, and publicly promoted as a space that would benefit more than just members.

If you are not a member and you need level access, wide doorways, and accessible fittings, these facilities are simply not available to you.

How did this get signed off?

The Occupation Certificate was issued by a private certifier. That raises several questions.

Did the certifier inspect the site and assess the toilets that were actually open to the public? Were they informed that the accessible toilets would be locked? Did they assume accessibility shown on the plans matched accessibility in practice?

If the accessible toilets were counted as part of the required infrastructure and included in the justification for funding, then someone needs to explain why they are not usable by the public.

Council has practical ways to fix this

There are straightforward options available:

Make the public toilets truly accessible by improving physical access to the toilets on the southern side

Unlock the accessible toilets on the northern side so they are available to everyone, not just club members

Do both, and clearly communicate the changes to the community

This is not a complex policy problem. It is a matter of following through on what was promised, and ensuring public infrastructure works for the public.

Right now, we have a building that looks finished but is failing to deliver on one of its most basic public promises.

This is about the gap between what is said and what is delivered. It is about the difference between ticking a compliance box and meeting a community standard. It is about whether we are prepared to speak up when public infrastructure does not serve everyone equally.

If you cannot access a toilet in a brand new building, what confidence should you have in future upgrades, planning approvals, or public project delivery?

And if those in charge of building, certifying, or managing these facilities will not raise the issue, then the community must.

#Kiama #GerringongSLSC #PublicAccess #AccessibleDesign #InclusiveInfrastructure #LocalGovernment #CivicAccountability #ToiletAccess #CommunityMatters

The real challenge isn’t the lease. It’s the leadership.

New here?
This blog unpacks the twists and turns of local democracy in the Kiama local government area. I’m not a councillor, not council staff, and not on any payroll. I’m a community member and former civics reporter for the local paper, and I care about transparency, process and public trust.

The post below is part of an ongoing series examining the drama around the new Gerringong Surf Life Saving Club building, and more specifically, the confusion over who runs what, who approves what, and why something as simple as a kiosk lease has become a political minefield.

If you care about good governance and strong communities, this one’s for you.

What would happen if we called time on the confusion and asked the one question that matters: What is the real stumbling block here?

That’s adaptive leadership. It’s when you stop pretending the issue is a line in the zoning code or the square footage of a kiosk and start talking about what’s actually going on.

Is it pride?

Because let’s be honest: Council is broke. Yet we’re sitting on millions of dollars’ worth of publicly owned assets and powered by thousands of volunteer hours – hours that, if costed, would amount to real economic value.

In Australia, volunteer work is valued at over $17 billion a year. That’s more than the national defence budget. It’s time to ask what that means when decisions are being made, when priorities are being set, and when access to facilities hinges on red tape and unclear communication.

And yet we treat some volunteers as politically convenient and others like they’re lucky to have a garage.

We’ve got Rural Fire Service crews operating out of mouldy sheds while surf lifesaving clubs are securing multimillion-dollar rebuilds and running coffee kiosks from beachfront locations. If you can raise the money and deliver the outcome, well done. If your organisation has the profile and networks to attract support, use them.

But let’s not kid ourselves that this is just a lease issue.

It’s about communication, consistency, and the credibility of those in charge. When a council can’t give straight answers about its own buildings, we don’t get governance. We get guesswork.

Maybe Council is embarrassed. Maybe they feel like they lost control of a project they now have to own. Maybe the surf club knows it has strong public backing and uses that to its advantage. Maybe there’s a bit of “we save lives” moral authority that lets things slide.

But here’s the thing: no one’s sitting down to name it. No one’s saying, Here is the sticking point. Let’s stop spinning and start solving.

That’s the leadership we need. The kind that brings people to the table not to score points, but to actually get the thing sorted.

Because in the end, good governance isn’t about who holds the keys. It’s about who’s willing to ask the hard questions when the doors won’t open the way they should.

#KiamaCouncil #LocalDemocracy #GerringongSLSC #GoodGovernance #CommunityAccountability #CivicLeadership #VolunteerVoices #PublicAssets #CouncilTransparency #LocalPolitics