Notebook: Oh, just one more thing
5:04pm Wednesday 14th November 2001
This is the final Notebook. It marks the end of my 45-year affair with local government.
It all began in the late 50s when I joined the Stroud News at the southern end of the Cotswolds as a very junior reporter.
I was not judged ready for the challenge of Stroud Urban District Council, but there were plenty of parish councils.
This was true local democracy. A few village worthies sitting round a table in the memorial hall arranging local affairs to the best of their ability, and with not a thought for party politics.
They didn't waste any time on sub-committees or officers' reports.
The members knew their patch and viewed any problem for themselves before reaching a speedy decision.
When Chalford Parish Council was considering the state of the women's toilets in the village hall we all solemnly trooped in to have a look.
Certainly it was a remarkable sight.
You may know that really old fashioned WCs were entirely boxed in with a hole cut in the top.
In this case it was a wide box with two holes, side by side.
A case of true togetherness. "Just like hens on a coop," observed one farmer.
An immediate decision was made to instal modern fittings. Male councillors were startled by some of the graffiti and a complete redecoration was ordered.
By next month's meeting the work was finished and we had a little agricultural humour about a suitable opening ceremony.
If a sophisticated operation like Barnet Council had been handling it we would have had public consultation, alternative options, planning considerations and competitive tenders followed by more public consultation. And then it would all have been put on hold because of concern over wheelchair access.
In time I graduated to higher levels of local government.
In those days any sizeable town boasted an urban council with a similar rural council responsible for the surrounding countryside. In smaller places they often shared the same staff and offices. This was certainly the case when I worked in a small town in Herefordshire. In fact a local solicitor acted as clerk to both councils in a part-time capacity.
His attitude to the press was less than enlightened. The council papers were a mish-mash of various reports stapled together without any consecutive numbering. So it was easy for him to go through the press copy of council documents and rip out any pages he didn't want us to see. His undoing was that he left tell-tale fragments of paper round the staples.
Armed with this evidence I rushed in to see the editor. He was a nice old boy who I'm sure was hoping for a quiet life until his retirement. But he didn't wish to be found wanting when the rights of the press were under attack.
So a strong protest was sent to the council and the answer came back that it was all a mistake and wouldn't happen again.
When the next set of papers arrived it was unstapled and examined in fine detail. Clearly something had been torn out.
I set off in search of a maverick councillor who would supply the missing information (the story of my life really). A shopkeeper was willing to oblige “but don't come round 'till after dark".
The missing pages dealt with proposals to increase council house rents.
Without too much encouragement from me, an angry editor rang the council next morning. Soon the sounds of a raised voice and a desk being thumped were heard coming from his office.
Later a flushed and agitated editor announced he was going home early.
At the end of the afternoon I was summoned to his house where I found him sitting up in bed finishing a fierce editorial against council secrecy.
“Tell them to put it on the front page," was his parting shot.
My high spirits were seriously deflated by the editor's wife as she showed me out of the front door. “I am looking forward to many happy years after our retirement," she hissed. “If you go on like this I shall be a widow within the year."
I've had dealings with several London boroughs, but Brent in the early 80s was in a class of its own.
A hard left Labour administration ran the council through the casting vote of the mayor.
Council meetings went on a sort of “meet the people tour” at different locations usually schools around the borough.
There was always a mob of left-wing demonstrators outside the building encouraged by a gentleman with a loud hailer.
He usually recognised me and I got a special welcoming announcement, which then made it difficult to force my way through.
And then the roof fell in for Labour. One of their members crossed the floor and joined the Tories they do that sort of thing in Brent.
It meant that the Tories, with the help of the three Liberals, could outvote Labour.
At the next council meeting, held in Willesden High School, the stage was set for the Tories to take control and re-jig all the committees to suit themselves. The police “fascist thugs of state oppression” were not allowed on the premises.
There was minimal security in the school hall with only the press table dividing the councillors from the public, an angry mob if ever I saw one.
Eggs were soon flying many fell short and spattered the press. Then the mob stormed over the press table and broke up the meeting which was hastily adjourned.
So Labour was able to hang on to power for another couple of weeks.
By the time of the adjourned meeting the mayor a mild Asian gentleman had been prevailed upon by Labour's national leadership to have the police on stand-by.
When the mob charged, he called for the hall to be cleared. Fists flew as the police moved in but eventually the rabble was ejected and the Tories voted in as the new administration.
As a final act of defiance, Labour refused to move out of the leader's office. This was resolved late one evening by swapping the name plate on the door with that of the opposition office down the corridor.
Change usually comes slowly to local government, but in the past couple of years the Government has forced all councils to re-organise themselves, usually around a cabinet system, as Barnet has done.
It puts a lot of power in the hands of a few and leaves most councillors with a secondary role.
I don't like it, and in Barnet I believe most councillors don't like it either. The system urgently needs a thorough revision.
Local government has not had it easy in recent years and things will become more difficult as councils are forced to privatise more services. I fear buck-passing and the blame culture will play an increasing role.
Getting information out of the council has never been easy and it has become more difficult with the disappearance of committee reports.
Councils tends to operate a closed system in the best control freak tradition. Journalists must get their information from only one source the press office. The staff who actually organise and understand services must not talk to the press, on pain of death.
Barnet now spends some £840,000 a year on “public affairs”, and this is seen as a key weapon in spinning the tale of a wildly successful council with only good news to tell.
Let's end with a few thanks.
Firstly, to the Times Group for finding the space each week for me to cast a beady eye over local government.
Secondly, to everyone who has kept me supplied with information. Sorry that it has not been possible to use everything.
Thirdly, thank you to readers for their interest and support.
Finally, it would be churlish not to thank the councillors who have kept me in gainful employment for such a long while.
Councils do have wide responsibilities which affect the quality of everyone's life.
Watch them constantly and make your voice heard, loudly.