Forces of secrecy
A bill in Olympia that would have required government officials to record closed-door meetings has succumbed to behind-the-scenes lobbying on behalf of the very people who would have been held accountable.
The culprits are nameless. The full legislative body did not have to go on the record with a vote.
While the forces of secrecy – that would be just about every governmental body in the state – can congratulate themselves on a clean kill with few fingerprints, voters might want to ask them what was so objectionable in the first place.
The Open Public Meetings Act lists numerous reasons why officials can call executive sessions, which moves discussions out of the public’s earshot. We agree that some personnel matters are better discussed in private. We agree that it doesn’t serve the public to openly discuss legal strategy or divulge details of prospective land deals.
House Bill 3292 would not have eliminated or altered any exceptions; it would merely have required that officials make audio recordings of the meetings and keep them on file for two years. Then if a person provided a judge with credible evidence that a closed-door session violated the open-meetings law, the judge could listen to the recording in chambers and make a determination.
If the judge ruled the complaint had merit, only that portion of the meeting in violation could be made public. As it is, it’s almost impossible to prove a violation because of the secrecy of the meetings.
The bill was not built on unfounded suspicions. State Auditor Brian Sonntag found more than 400 violations of the open-meetings law over a four-year period, which is why he and Attorney General Rob McKenna testified on the bill’s behalf.
Opponents of the bill worry that recordings will stifle their candid private discussions (as opposed to the kind they have in public?). More likely, they want to shield inappropriate and irrelevant comments that could hurt them or others. We’re confident that officials can be both frank and professional. Those who can’t help themselves hardly merit protection.
But, again, the recordings would only be made public if there were a credible complaint within two years of the meeting and a judge agreed. Nobody can troll the recordings in the hopes of landing juicy tidbits to broadcast to the public.
The public should be alarmed at the widespread objection to this simple bill among city councils, county commissions, school boards and on and on. Officials had a chance to stem the metastasizing cynicism that gnaws away at public service. Instead, they chose self-interest.