Are councils across New South Wales reclassifying community land by stealth?

Shoalhaven Council’s decision to reclassify land used by a homeless shelter, youth centre and disability services made me wonder whether this was an isolated decision. It is not. Across New South Wales, councils under financial pressure are reviewing the land they own, changing some properties from community land to operational land and creating the legal pathway for sale, redevelopment or longer commercial leases.

The language sounds administrative. Its effect can be substantial. Under the Local Government Act, council-owned land is generally classified as either community land or operational land. Community land has been set aside for public use. It can include parks, sporting grounds, natural areas and buildings used for community purposes. It must be managed under a plan of management and cannot simply be sold.

Operational land has far fewer restrictions. It can be leased commercially, redeveloped or sold. Reclassification does not automatically mean that a property will be sold, though it removes one of the major legal barriers preventing a sale.

That distinction became important in Shoalhaven this week. The council voted to proceed with the reclassification of several properties used by community organisations, including Safe Shelter Shoalhaven, Nowra Youth Centre, Noah’s Inclusion Services and Werninck Craft Cottage.

Safe Shelter Shoalhaven provides crisis accommodation for up to 12 people experiencing homelessness. The youth centre provides a place for young people. Noah’s Inclusion Services supports children with disabilities and their families. These are not vacant blocks tucked behind a council depot. People are using them.

The ABC reported that the organisations learned their properties were being considered only when the council report became public. The council’s chief executive apologised for the lack of consultation. Shoalhaven Council manages more than 3,100 parcels of land. About 1,700 are already classified as operational. Its property sales program includes isolated and underused land, land with strategic development potential and what it describes as underperforming community facilities. Council says community land must first be reclassified before it can be sold.

The question is not whether councils should ever sell land. Councils acquire properties for many reasons. Some become surplus. A small block may have no public access. A former depot may no longer be required. Selling genuinely unused land can release money for services or infrastructure the community values more.

The problem starts when council looks at a building and sees only the land beneath it. A homeless shelter occupies a valuable site. A youth centre brings in little income. A disability service fails the spreadsheet test. The market calls that underperformance. The people who rely on those places may call it the difference between being supported and being abandoned.

Central Coast Council offers one of the clearest examples of how financial crisis can turn public land into a source of emergency cash. After the council’s financial collapse in 2020, administrators began an extensive asset sales program. Properties were divided into those already classified as operational land and those requiring reclassification before sale.

Council reports openly stated that some community land would be reclassified and sold for no less than market value.

The council knew the process could take up to 18 months, with public exhibition and formal planning approvals along the way. This was not a debate about the future of public land. It was a plan to raise cash.

Kiama followed a different path with Blue Haven Bonaira. The land contained a modern aged-care and retirement complex completed in 2019. It had become community land by default because the council failed to classify it as operational within the required period after acquiring it.

The Blue Haven Bonaira case shows why every reclassification deserves to be judged on its own facts. This was not a neighbourhood hall or a sporting field. It was an aged-care facility built with substantial public investment that also included the heritage-listed Barroul House. The project later became central to Kiama Council’s financial crisis after the Auditor-General found construction costs had been underestimated by around $30 million. Council argued the land had become community land through an administrative oversight and that reclassification corrected its legal status. Community submissions took a different view, arguing that the public investment and heritage value strengthened the case for keeping the land protected. Whatever position people took, reclassification was the legal step that made the eventual sale possible.

Sutherland Shire Council offers another scenario. When it proposed reclassifying land at North Cronulla Surf Life Saving Club, community consultation led to a narrower approach. Only the part of the site containing commercial tenancies was reclassified, while the rest remained community land. Instead of treating the whole property as a single financial asset, the council separated the income-producing area from the part used for community purposes.

Sutherland Shire Council showed that reclassification does not have to be an all-or-nothing decision. After consultation, it reclassified only the commercial section of the North Cronulla Surf Life Saving Club site and kept the rest as community land. That is the broader lesson. Councils can separate the parts of a property that generate income from the parts that serve the public. Reclassification should not become a blunt instrument for turning an entire community asset into something easier to sell.

Shoalhaven’s decision is not just about one council or one group of community organisations. It raises a broader question about how councils plan for the future.

Kiama’s experience is a reminder of what can happen when long-term asset management falls behind. After selling Blue Haven Bonaira to deal with one financial crisis, the council is now facing more than $50 million in identified upgrades at its remaining aged-care facilities, including major fire safety works.

Every council faces ageing infrastructure and rising costs. Community assets will sometimes need to be sold. The question is whether those decisions are part of a long-term strategy or whether they are being made one property at a time as the next financial pressure arrives.

Communities deserve that conversation before their local hall, youth centre, homeless shelter or disability service appears on a list. Once it does, planning has already failed and the community is left fighting to save what council should have planned to protect.

This article is part of a series examining the decisions that shape our communities long before most people hear about them. I am following the stories behind local government decisions to better understand how public assets are managed, how communities are involved and what those decisions mean for future generations. See my first blog in the series here 

The question Shoalhaven has every NSW community asking

Shoalhaven Council has voted to reclassify a group of council properties from community land to operational land, opening the way for them to be sold. Some of those buildings are used by a homeless shelter, a youth centre and disability services. The organisations affected reportedly learned their buildings were on the list only when the council report became public. I have spent years arguing that governments should speak to the people affected before making decisions. So my first question was simple. How does that happen?

If a homeless shelter, a youth service or a disability organisation is using a council building every day, how do they not get a phone call saying, “We’re under enormous financial pressure and we’re looking at every option. We need to talk.”

Maybe there is an explanation. I want to hear it. Yes a number of Councils are under enormous financial pressure. They are expected to deliver more services, maintain more assets and somehow make the numbers add up. I don’t envy them.

What I do struggle with is a decision-making process that appears to leave the people most affected reading about their future in a council agenda. That isn’t how trust is built.

My community  has seen this in action. People in Kiama have already watched community land become operational land before it was sold. We know these decisions divide communities because we’ve lived through one ourselves.

That made me wonder whether Shoalhaven is an isolated case, or whether we’re seeing the beginning of a much bigger trend across New South Wales. That’s what I’m going to find out.

This is the first of three articles. The next one looks at other councils that have reclassified community land and asks whether a precedent is emerging.

The third asks the question sitting underneath all of this. Why are councils reaching this point in the first place?

This article is part of a series examining the decisions that shape our communities long before most people hear about them. I am following the stories behind local government decisions to better understand how public assets are managed, how communities are involved and what those decisions mean for future generations. See my second blog in the series here 

Reflections on the Darker and Brighter Sides of Humanity

As I continue to write these blogs, I find myself frequently navigating the darker corners of human behaviour, unearthing stories of corruption, misconduct, and betrayal. These reflections often leave me contemplating whether I spend too much time on the wrong side of the fence, wishing that more people would stand up and be counted. The adage “Bad things happen when good people do nothing” resonates deeply as I explore these issues. Yet, despite the grim tales, I hold onto hope that shedding light on these darker aspects might inspire a collective awakening, urging more of us to take a stand for what is right.

Why Do Unions Let Down the People They Promised to Serve? And What Does This Mean for the Labor Party?

Unions have long been synonymous with the labour movement, defending workers’ rights, advocating for fair wages, and pushing for better working conditions. Yet, several high-profile cases of union leaders embroiled in corruption, financial mismanagement, and personal misconduct have raised serious questions about the integrity of these organisations. Why do unions, which are meant to serve and protect their members, sometimes fail to do so? Moreover, how does this reflect on the Labor Party in Australia, which has historically been closely aligned with the union movement?

Diana Asmar and the Health Workers Union (HWU)

The most recent case involves Diana Asmar, the boss of the Health Workers Union (HWU), who is facing legal action over an alleged $2.7 million printing scheme. The lawsuit claims that Asmar and other union officials approved fraudulent invoices for printing services and received cash kickbacks in return. This is not Asmar’s first controversy; her leadership has been marred by accusations of questionable expense claims and financial irregularities since she took charge of the HWU in 2013.

A Pattern of Misconduct

Asmar’s case is not an isolated incident. Other notable union leaders have found themselves in similar situations:

  • Michael Williamson, former National President of the Health Services Union (HSU), was jailed in 2014 for defrauding the union of nearly $1 million through false invoices and other deceptive practices.
  • Craig Thomson, another HSU official, was convicted of misusing union funds for personal expenses, including luxury goods and services.
  • John Setka, Victorian Secretary of the CFMMEU, has faced charges related to harassment and breaches of court orders, casting a shadow over his leadership.
  • Kathy Jackson, once a whistle-blower against Williamson, was later found guilty of misappropriating union funds for personal use.

These cases share a troubling theme: union leaders exploiting their positions for personal gain at the expense of the very people they are supposed to represent.

The Impact on Union Members

The implications of such misconduct are profound. Union members trust their leaders to fight for their rights, ensure fair wages, and protect their jobs. When union leaders engage in corrupt practices, they not only betray this trust but also undermine the credibility of the entire union movement. Members are left questioning whether their dues are being used to genuinely advance their interests or to line the pockets of those at the top.

Reflections on the Labor Party

The Labor Party in Australia has a historic and deep connection with the union movement. Many of its leaders and members come from union backgrounds, and unions are significant financial supporters of the party. When union leaders are involved in scandals, it inevitably reflects on the Labor Party, raising questions about the party’s ties to these organisations.

For instance, the scandals involving union leaders like Diana Asmar, Michael Williamson, and others have provided ammunition for critics of the Labor Party, who argue that the party’s close relationship with unions makes it complicit in these failings. The perception that unions, which are supposed to protect workers, are instead engaging in corrupt practices, can erode public trust not only in the unions themselves but also in the Labor Party. This is particularly concerning given that the party positions itself as the champion of the working class.

The Labor Party must navigate these challenges carefully. While unions remain a crucial part of its base, the party needs to ensure that it is not seen as turning a blind eye to union misconduct. Doing so could alienate voters who are frustrated with the perceived corruption and lack of accountability within unions.

Why Do Unions Let Down Their Members?

The recurring pattern of corruption and mismanagement raises an important question: Why do unions sometimes fail the people they promised to serve?

  1. Lack of Oversight: Many unions suffer from inadequate oversight and governance structures, allowing leaders to operate without sufficient accountability.
  2. Power Concentration: In some cases, too much power is concentrated in the hands of a few individuals, leading to abuses of that power.
  3. Cultural Issues: A culture of entitlement or complacency can develop among union leaders, where they prioritise their interests over those of the members.
  4. Systemic Flaws: The structure of some unions may inherently allow for misuse of funds and resources, with insufficient checks and balances to prevent misconduct.

While unions play a critical role in advocating for workers’ rights, the actions of some leaders have raised serious concerns about their effectiveness and integrity. The question remains: How can unions ensure that they truly serve their members and avoid the pitfalls of corruption and mismanagement? Perhaps it is time for unions to reflect on their governance practices, implement stronger oversight, and prioritise transparency to restore the trust of the workers they are meant to protect.

Moreover, the Labor Party must also consider how its close ties to the union movement impact its public image. If the party is to maintain its standing as a defender of the working class, it must be willing to hold unions to account and ensure that they live up to the values they profess to uphold. The path forward for both unions and the Labor Party will require a commitment to integrity, accountability, and a genuine focus on the needs of the people they claim to serve.

#Unions #LaborParty #Corruption #WorkersRights #Governance #Australia #DianaAsmar #MichaelWilliamson #CraigThomson #JohnSetka #KathyJackson #HWU #HSU