THE contemptuous disdain of NSW Transport Minister Andrew Constance and NSW Premier Gladys Berejiklian towards questions from the Herald that didn’t provide opportunity for high fives and congratulatory backslaps at the Newcastle light rail launch, says way more about them than it does a journalist doing a job.
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Now before you can scream “fake news!”, Constance wore a white elephant pin on his tie when he was in Newcastle to hail the light rail. The white elephant was captured by Herald eagle-eye photographer Marina Neil and pointed out in Topics last week.
The more generous among you might point to the fact that the white elephant featured on various flags of Siam between 1820 and 1916 is considered sacred and remains a symbol of royal power in that country. The eminence of Thai kings has traditionally been assessed by the number of white elephants they own.
In Myanmar (formerly Burma), white elephants are celebrated as symbols of power and good fortune. In the 16th century, the kings of Burma and Thailand fought a war over white elephant ownership. In 2001, the BBC reported a white elephant was captured in Burma and hailed as a lucky charm by the country's military junta who said it will bring peace and good fortune. Not so much for Rohingya people.
In contemporary Australia, the white elephant is not viewed as a status symbol. The Oxford Living Dictionary describes a white elephant as “a possession which its owner cannot dispose of and whose cost, particularly that of maintenance, is out of proportion to its usefulness”.
I would have thought it prudent for Constance or his menagerie of minders to have considered the symbolism of wearing a white elephant to the opening of a privatised transport system that has been roundly criticised by the NSW Auditor-General for a lack of proper planning and scant disregard for cost to the taxpayer.
As the Minister for Transport since 2015, Constance has demonstrated through his various interactions with Newcastle media that he can readily assume a disposition of disdain when critically questioned. When ruffled, he’s reminiscent of Draco Malfoy from the Harry Potter series. Malfoy dismissed those who weren’t fawning toadies with a snarky bite and a quick insult.
Former ABC Newcastle presenter Paul Bevan copped a lecture on more than one occasion about “negativity” from Constance when asking questions that didn’t assist the ministerial PR assault. Herald journalist Michael Parris received similar when he asked about the future extension of the light rail.
The Premier was disparaging about the Herald’s reporting. The arrogance of the Premier and the Minister towards Parris’s questioning blew up royal deluxe on social media. Such sniggering dismissal of media questioning would never have been dished up to Sydney media by two senior government representatives on the campaign trail.
The relationship between politicians, their advisors and government agencies with media outlets risks, at times, becoming somewhat cosy. The promise of exclusives and leaks can be underpinned by an unspoken expectation of ‘soft’ coverage that concentrates on positive stories and buries or minimises stories that are critical and ask hard questions. But hard questions are the job of a media outlet that doesn’t take its only cue for story direction from a media release. As traditional newsrooms shrink along with the resources necessary for investigative journalism, there is a genuine risk to the watchdog role of local media telling local stories.
‘When local papers close, costs rise’ – a study published last year in the Colombia Journalism Review – found that local government borrowing costs significantly increased in local government areas that have experienced a newspaper closure when compared with geographically adjacent areas with similar demographic and economic characteristics without newspaper closures. The study concluded that a lack of local newspaper coverage has serious financial consequences for local governments. Surprising?
While Constance may think “there's an obligation on the part of the Newcastle Herald to be very positive about this town because it is a wonderful place,” he might also appreciate that responsible local journalism is not simply a collection of positive stories cobbled together to help those responsible with the spending of public funds beat their chests during election campaigns. Local journalism helps describe the fabric of a community that provides us with a sense of place and helps us try to better know who we have been, who we are and who we might be.
Long may Herald journalists be accused of negativity by politicians when asking the questions that the community expects be addressed with dignity and respect.
