After nearly two decades in the news business, a universal truth has become abundantly clear: government entities, in general — and elected officials, in particular — have a transparency problem.
With few exceptions (most often limited to an individual, not a governing body), government at all levels prefers to operate behind the proverbial curtain.
If I were to give an educated guesstimate, I’d say about 90 percent of what really goes on in local government is outside a public meeting — the only opportunity to catch a momentary glimpse behind that curtain.
I now find myself confronting that reality back here in Indiana after departing Sublette County about nine years back.
Different location, different names, different circumstances — but the same transparency problems I once confronted in Sublette County.
Some of you may recall how that confrontation unfolded a decade ago.
What started as an informal request to the county commissioners to take some basic steps to operate within the clear constraints of Wyoming’s Public Meetings Act turned into a retaliatory decision by the commissioners — against the advice of their own legal counsel, mind you.
A civil suit followed, and the commissioners quickly found themselves on the losing end of the judge’s summary judgment. The entire saga was a shameful display by the county’s three (four, if we include the former “fourth commissioner” clerk, and rest assured, we should) highest officeholders. Worse yet, it was wholly avoidable.
But as the old Lord Acton adage goes, “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
No question, when I returned to Sublette County in 2015, those in power had gone unchecked for entirely too long, and they had rounded off countless legal corners in the process.
An excerpt from a column I wrote at the time paints the picture:
Since I started covering the county commissioners back in February 2015, I had my eyebrows raised on more than a couple of occasions about how they conducted their business.
I was confused during meetings when they’d reference outside discussions they had with each other. With a board of three, it takes two to make a quorum, after all.
I was puzzled by the breakfast meetings they all attended with various groups in the county — most often, the federal agencies and the industry folks — without any public notice about the meetings.
No question, there are a plethora of benefits to be had by such meetings, but I knew the Public Meetings Act, and I knew those meetings didn’t conform.
I was also perplexed by their lunch meetings together, when they’d all — along with the county clerk — mosey on over to Stockman’s for grub. And I was taken aback when, during their regular meetings, they’d make plans to meet up at various times and for various tasks, whether it was all loading up in a truck to check out a job site or to inspect a facility.
The commissioners’ ongoing violations were abundant, and flaunted with impunity — until they weren’t.
The Wyoming Constitution opens Article I with this line: “All power is inherent in the people, and all free governments are founded on their authority, and instituted for their peace, safety and happiness.”
And while I’ve always appreciated Wyoming’s straightforward, matter-of-fact approach, Indiana’s own Constitution adds a bit of Old English elegance to its version: “A fundamental philosophy of the American constitutional form of representative government is that government is the servant of the people and not their master.”
In that vein, I was on hand when Sublette County went from three to five commissioners back in 2017. It was a welcome move for multiple reasons, starting with the basic dilution of power.
Prior to that, I could count the number of split votes on two fingers in the years I covered the commissioners.
Diversity of opinion and robust debate are vital to open government — a government theoretically “of, for and by the people.” Three commissioners proved to be an impediment to that notion.
When we went to five, yes, transparency problems still persisted, but the discussion was enriched and the votes were their own — no premeditated consensus required.
The current “Three for Me” movement is being touted as a cost-saving measure, as a way to improve efficiency and make it “easier and faster to pass resolutions and conduct daily county business” (frankly, a frightful notion), and the most preposterous of all — as a way to increase transparency.
Make no mistake, the “cost savings” contention is the ONLY one that could be argued with a straight face, but even that — estimated at $75,000 a year for the two extra commissioners — is “couch-cushion change” for a county with a $217 million budget, and a small price to pay for better governance.
Ironically, one of the three commissioners involved in the 2016 suit is back for more. Another one’s wife is behind the Three for Me effort, as is the former “fourth commissioner.”
The renewed effort to consolidate power in the hands of the few — a scenario where only two are necessary to rule the roost — will absolutely not serve the interests of Sublette County citizens, but only the few.
And last I checked, when it comes to good government, the masters should outnumber the servants at every turn.
Stephen Crane twice served in Sublette County as both reporter and editor of its newspapers. He now lives in Indiana with his wife, four kids, two dogs, one cat and countless chickens.
