The fire chief pulled up a chair to the table at a Board of Selectmen’s meeting in Hancock County and began his report. In a few minutes, he turned to the only reporter in the room and said, “Now, the rest of this is off the record.”
The town manager quickly reminded the chief that he was speaking in a regular, public meeting of selectmen. The exasperated chief replied, “But how can I tell you what’s really going on?”
It’s a true story. And it truly captures the temptation facing just about everybody associated with the public’s business in Maine — that not sharing information with the public is a way to do the public’s business.
I disagree. Yet a string of news stories in the past year suggests that the open-meetings section of Maine’s Freedom of Access Act is in danger or at minimum is being treated with contempt. Last May, a reporter walked in on leaders of the Legislature’s Joint Committee on Appropriations and Financial Affairs meeting in secret; on April 7, the Legislature’s Health and Human Services Committee tried to meet in two rooms at the same time; on April 25, a blue-ribbon commission appointed to study public education in Maine met at Blaine House, but reporters and the public were not allowed in.
The law is clear: It calls for public notice of these meetings, discussion of the agenda in public and votes in public. It allows boards and councils and legislative committees to go into secret session only after the precise reason is stated and three-fifths of the members vote in favor of closing. Those precise exceptions usually involve personnel matters, labor negotiations, real estate transactions and so on. But the law also says the exception “does not apply to discussion of a budget or budget proposal.”
So why do these closings keep happening?
Part of the problem, I think, is that members of the public — you and I — don’t know how to respond to the move away from the microphone. So here are several suggestions.
Reporters and news organizations: Keep up the fight for the public by objecting to illegal closures, name the names of those who participate, and stop calling the meetings “executive sessions.” Even though that’s the phrase the statute uses, it’s just a euphemism for “secret sessions.”
Legislators, school board members, councilors: Many of you are trying to follow the law, thank you. But have the guts to object, then refuse to participate when your leaders insist on closing a session that should be public.
The rest of us: Email your dissatisfaction to the people who represent you when you learn of an illegal closed meeting. It’s easy to find your councilor or state representative’s email address online. And don’t be taken by surprise when you attend a local meeting and the panel starts to close off the public’s access. The Freedom of Access Act is available online, and you have as much right (and responsibility) as a reporter to stand up and object if you suspect the secret session will not be legal. You can’t be penalized for objecting.
It’s getting worse. Last week, a state legislator questioned whether legislative committee hearings should be recorded and archived. Apparently, the reason was concern about protecting an individual’s privacy — even though the hearings deal with public issues.
It’s time for us to stop being bamboozled into believing that the only way public officials can learn “what’s really going on” is in secret session. These officials are stewards of our money, our community, our state. We have a right to know what’s going on.
Tom McCord teaches American history at the University of Maine at Augusta.