Good morning.
Monday in Whitewater will be sunny with a high of 64. Sunrise is 6:22 and sunset 7:30 for 13h 08m 9s of daytime. The moon is new with .1 percent of its visible disk illuminated.
The Whitewater Unified School District holds an electoral canvass at 4:30 PM. Whitewater’s Planning Commission meets at 6 PM.
On this day in 1959, a team of computer manufacturers, users, and university people led by Grace Hopper meets to discuss the creation of a new programming language that would be called COBOL.
For today, a practical consideration of closed-session meetings in Whitewater. (This leaves aside for now the role of closed sessions as a matter of law. That’s a topic for another time.)
There are two practical reasons to have a closed session: for elected or appointed officeholders (1) to conceal permanently information from public or (2) to conceal information temporarily while discussing action that may become public later.
Both cases have obvious practical limits, for the same reason: as the community is factionalized, and goverment in Whitewater often lacks a strong public consensus, the officials’ closed sessions will lack broad support (or even respect).
In a community where residents are skeptical of officials’ motives, let’s-go-to-closed session looks like officials’ self-protective action. (‘We’re doing it for the community’ isn’t often compelling; ‘we have the right to do it’ falls flat without community support.)
In a community where residents are skeptical (or unaware) of officials’ motives, major announcements upon returning to open session turn skepticism into cyncism. For both the city since last summer, and the district in December, major discussions in closed session have had almost no prior public foundation by those public boards. (Residents, yes, but not boardmembers themselves.) Boardmembers and councilmembers cannot expect that their concerns will resonate with residents unless those officials, themselves, build a compelling public case, open session after open session.
Coming out of closed session with an announcment without building a predicate foundation with the commmunity makes only a faint sound. It doesn’t matter how much some officials think of themselves (and oh, brother, do some of them think highly of themselves) most residents aren’t impressed. A generation ago more residents might have been deferential to officials’ claims. That was then, this is now.
For better or worse, benefit of the doubt doesn’t appertain in Whitewater’s politics. Elected or appointed officials looking for that benefit will not find it here.
If, for example, someone is sitting in her district office wondering why others aren’t persuaded (let alone obedient!), the answer will be found by looking first to herself. One won’t be persuaded by detailed arguments someone else won’t make, or thoughtful words someone else won’t speak.
If, for example, a long effort council is mostly a closed-session effort, then the lack of a sequential public explanation leaves the closed effort as little more than an exercise in private catharsis.
No one is required to come to table and make a public case. Those who are not at table, however, cannot expect to be among those who enjoy the meal.
In recent years, Whitewater seemed ensnared in a web of regulatory capture, with the landlord, the lobbyist, and the a few catspaws acting as the agents of this duplicitous strategy. This trio is actors, entrenched in their positions, manipulated local policies and regulations to their advantage, fostering an environment where progress was stifled, and the community’s growth was secondary to their enrichment. This stagnation, a byproduct of their self-serving agenda, cast a shadow over Whitewater, hindering the kind of vibrant development and innovation that the community deserved.
Amidst this backdrop, a couple of weak officials emerged not as the masterminds but more as a figures maneuvered within the existing power dynamics. One notable approach, characterized by an overreliance on fear and intimidation, is archaic in its application. The attempts to orchestrate distrust against City staff with questionable closed sessions, reflects a desperate grasp at fading influence. Such tactics, involving a dubious duo including the aforementioned landlord and one former councilmember, appears increasingly out of touch with the shifting ethos of our town’s governance.
The strategy of sowing discord and leveraging nebulous closed sessions has been met with growing skepticism. The community and its real leaders are turning away from these outdated maneuvers, signaling a collective desire for transparency, integrity, and genuine progress. The narrative of fear and intimidation is losing its potency, as Whitewater leans into a future defined by open dialogue and equitable growth.
Oh yes, wholly agree.
These men have a poor grasp of the difference bewteen public and private action, arguing situationally and opportunistically. When in public office, they want to take proceedings private; when in private life, they want to manipulate public proceedings.
Their small circle reassures them they still have it, but they never had it (and indeed, no one does) the way they believe they once did and believe they still do. It surprises them when what might have worked twenty years ago doesn’t work now.
There’s no surprise — it’s not 2004.