Codes of Conduct

by Charlie Canning,
Kangaroo Island
2012.05.26

One of the nice things about the ferry ride to Cape Jervis or Penneshaw is the opportunity it affords for conversation. The forty-minute trip is just long enough for a cup of coffee and a chat with the person seated or standing beside you. I favor the rails on the top deck as the views of the crossing are what captivated me when I first came to Kangaroo Island.

Two trips ago – I think it was in March – I met Jeff. He was standing at the starboard rail looking off into the distance. We began by talking about the weather. When I asked him what he did for work, he told me that he was farmer by default but not by calling. He had been working for the government as a consultant to various Aboriginal communities. His job was to go into a community and assess what was and was not working. After determining what the problems were, Jeff would suggest changes and implement strategies to address the issues.

“Sounds like difficult work,” I said.

“Yes and no,” he said. “The communities do come around in time. The problem is that the funding structure has changed. Now most of the projects are on yearly cycles and you’re never sure that something that you’ve started is going to be continued into the next fiscal year.”

“How much time do you need?” I asked.

“Twenty years for most things – a generation at least.”

“Sounds like the Council could use your skills,” I said. “What about doing a community assessment of Kangaroo Island?”

“No thanks,” Jeff laughed. “That would be harder than some of the work that I’ve done in the past.”

“Why’s that?”

“There is no code on the island,” Jeff said.

“What do you mean?” I asked. He was using the word “code” in a way that I had not heard it in a while.

“Every community has to have a code – a prevailing ethic that informs things – and Kangaroo Island doesn’t have one.”

“What about the Soldier Settler thing? Isn’t that the narrative?”

“Yes, but it was also part of the problem.”

“How so?”

“It was the way the land was distributed. Some people got larger blocks or better land. The families that got less ended up envying and resenting those that got more.”

“But what about the independence thing that I’m always reading about: How the islanders had to make do with less and create their own entertainment?”

“Yes, there are some good things to be sure, but the downside was that the people on the island could do what they liked.”

“I’ve been here for ten months and I can’t figure it out. People who are ‘for’ protecting the environment actively work against it. Those who say that they want to promote island business give it away.”

“There’s no code,” Jeff repeated. “People do things because they can.”

“What about telling this to the Council?” I said.

“They wouldn’t listen.”

I didn’t think any more about the conversation on the ferry until I picked up The Islander last week. There on the front page, eclipsing the good news of Photographer Sean McGowan’s recent triumph, was the headline “Cr Liu guilty of code breach over website” (The Islander 17 May 2012:1). Here was the word “code” again. Evidently, there must be a code on the island if Cr. Liu was guilty of violating one.

I read the article. I read it again. I read it a third time. For me, a more accurate title would have been “Crs. Clements and Davis absolved of bullying and harassment claims made by Cr. Liu”. Instead, the emphasis was put on the fact that Cr. Liu, in an obvious attempt to defend himself from being attacked by e-mail and in the only newspaper of record on the island, was “guilty” of posting Council business on the KIpolis.net website. Cr. Liu had violated the code of confidentiality. One cannot put true things on websites. Nor can one put them in the newspaper if they reflect poorly on the people that we like (i.e., the missing headline: “Cr. Chirgwin takes leave of absence from duties citing bullying and harassment by Council”). If they reflect poorly on the people that we don’t like, however, this is OK. We will run these stories on the front page in bold type with titles that confuse the issues. As an added service, we will throw in a linked editorial to justify the bias (“Unfit to continue”. The Islander 22 Mar. 2012: 4) or disavow our own responsibility in creating the confusion (“Dazed and confused”. The Islander 17 May 2012: 4.).

The thing about codes is that there are so many of them. Consider the ones for journalism, for example. These are on the mastheads of some of the most famous newspapers in the world: “All the news without fear or favor” (The Japan Times), “All the news that’s fit to print” (The New York Times). Other newspapers like The Australian have codes that are implied but not stated so directly: “Are you an informed Australian?” The implication is that by reading The Australian you will become informed. While newspaper mottoes and slogans may differ slightly, most of them have to do with the core values of journalism: truth, justice, fairness, and impartiality.

I have read The Islander for a year now and while I enjoy the photographs and the columns from the clubs, I find no discernible code in the editorial policy. Although there does appear to be some truth to the stories, there is seldom any justice. In fact, when it comes to political matters, the only standards that The Islander seems to be upholding are those of bias, censorship and most recently, payback.

Other codes on the Council go begging. Some of these are unwritten like the one that says that you don’t fire someone who is returning to work from medical leave. If your solicitor tells you that it’s OK to do so (“Sacked manager sues the council”. The Islander 26 Apr. 2012: 1), maybe you should think about changing solicitors.

There’s not enough time or credulity to take on the lack of a code when it comes to the environmental stewardship of the island. I’ll leave that to Eco-Action and the many other concerned groups and individuals currently weighing in on all kinds of important matters like helicopter flights, marine sanctuaries and offshore oil and gas exploration.  Let me just finish by saying that KI is one of the jewels of the planet. It deserves better governance and a more responsible media. It deserves a code.