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)

Graham Richardson. Whatever it takes and what it costs

When I was young, I thought Henry Kissinger was something special. He seemed calm, clever, powerful, the man everyone turned to when the world was on fire. The media made him sound like a hero. Only later did I learn about the secret bombings in Cambodia, the support for dictators, and the way real people paid the price for his so-called strategy. The shine came off pretty fast once you understood what those decisions meant for ordinary lives.

“Henry Kissinger is one of the worst people to ever be a force for good.”  Nicholas Thompson, editor of newyorker.com

Graham Richardson came later, but I was never a fan. Different stage, same play. He was the backroom operator who knew how to pull the strings, the man everyone said you had to have on your side. Yet somehow, despite all the questions and all the deals, he stayed above it all. The media made him a character, not a cautionary tale.

“There were no true believers in Richo’s world, only those who could deliver. It was effective, certainly, but it left behind a smaller kind of politics, one that taught us how easy it is to win the game and lose the point of playing it.”

It’s funny how age changes what you see. Back then, power looked impressive. Now I look at it and wonder who was writing the story, and why we all believed it. Instead of lifting public life, he made it narrower, more cynical, more about winning than governing.

In the end, the commentators probably summed him up best.

“Richo was the ultimate Labor numbers man,  brilliant, ruthless, and utterly transactional. He turned survival into an art form, always one step ahead of the fallout. To many, he made politics look like a business deal, where loyalty was negotiable and purpose optional. “

Addendum

News that Graham Richardson will be given a state funeral has stunned me  Honouring him in this way feels less like recognition of public service and more like confirmation of how skewed our political compass has become.

There was a time when state funerals were reserved for those who lifted the country, people whose contribution went beyond party or personal survival. Now it seems the test is different: power itself has become the virtue.

It’s not about denying grief or denying that he mattered to many. It’s about what we, as a nation, choose to honour. When a life spent mastering political deals is celebrated as public greatness, it tells us more about our leaders than about the man in the coffin.

For me, it’s another reminder of why integrity still matters, and why we need to keep asking the hard questions about who gets remembered, and what for.

Investigative reporter Kate McClymont’s story in SMH today 11 Nov 2025 is behind a paywall but it is so spot on it’s worth a subscription. ‘Long lunches, Swiss bank accounts and a kangaroo scrotum: My decades pursuing Graham Richardson”

#PowerAndPerception #MediaInfluence #Realpolitik #AustralianPolitics #GrahamRichardson #HenryKissinger #WhateverItTakes #PublicAccountability #LessonsFromHistory #CriticalThinking