Your public officials work for you. Sometimes, some of them seem to forget that.
As their boss, you have the need -- and, according to state law, the right -- to know what they're doing in your name. That's why meetings of city and county councils and other governing boards are required to be open to the public, with very few exceptions. And those exceptions -- discussion of current or threatened litigation or real estate transactions are the most common -- exist only because keeping such details under wraps serves the public interest.
Other than the honor system, there isn't much to ensure that reasons given for a closed session are legitimate, or that what's discussed in private stays within legal bounds.
The Monroe City Council, as reported Sunday and Monday by Herald writer Debra Smith, has been spending a lot of time this year meeting behind closed doors. Some of those discussions probably have been legitimate -- the city has been embroiled in a dispute with the state over water and sewer charges at the Monroe Correctional Complex, and has been trying to sell property it owns at the North Kelsey shopping center project.
But recent discussions about a potential salary increase for Police Chief Tim Quenzer, who has been doubling for the past six months as city administrator, may have violated the state open meetings law. Discussion of employee salaries may be more comfortable to discuss in private, but under the law, the public is entitled to be present.
Council member David Kennedy used "potential claims" as his reason for requesting a closed session to discuss Quenzer's pay, but Quenzer told Smith he had never even considered legal action. The potential for legal action is something municipalities always face -- it can't be used as a pretext for shutting the public out of what should be a public meeting.
Two solutions are called for. One is training for public officials so they understand the spirit and letter of the open meetings act; other is a requirement that closed sessions be recorded so that if there's a challenge, a judge can decide whether the session was legal.
Attorney General Rob McKenna notes that municipalities have opposed that latter idea, and their lobbyists have managed to kill it in Olympia. There's a reason, he says, that the state's sunshine laws were produced not by the Legislature, but by citizen initiatives.
