Words and images by Carol Altmann

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #DC943C;”] I [/dropcap]f it’s true that people subconsciously choose a pet dog that mirrors themselves, it is appropriate that Warrnambool City Councillor Peter Hulin owns a 68kg Rottweiler called Boris.

Big Boris, who Peter jokingly refers to as a Chihuahua cross, is – like his owner – from strong German stock, intensely loyal to those he respects and not one to take any crap when provoked.

“Does Boris reflect you?” I ask Peter during our conversation at his Koroit St upholstery business, where a stretched-out Boris looks like a couch blocking the doorway.

“In many ways, yes. He is as placid as can be and would not hurt a fly when he is out here, hanging around, but come to my place after dark and try and take something and see how you go then,” Peter says, laughing.

“It was like when I grabbed a guy who had hurt my son,” he adds, referring to an incident from 2008 when he attacked a man in Port Fairy, who, Peter argued, was part of an ongoing campaign of harassment against his son, John.

Peter was fined, but no conviction was recorded, after being charged with recklessly causing injury and unlawful assault.

Peter has similarly been accused of being too aggressive in his role as councillor since being elected in 2008, but others – like the steady stream of ratepayers who visit his shop to seek advice or a listening ear – consider him a hero of the common person.

Perhaps more than any other councillor, he is either loved or loathed, with not much space in between.

“It’s not personal to me and I don’t take it personally. I just believe there is a better way,” Peter says of the criticism he receives from those who would prefer he remain quiet.

“We need people elected to council with the ability to move this city toward the place it should be, and could easily be: we are not elected to be puppets.”

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #DC943C;”] P [/dropcap]eter grew up the son of an upholsterer and World War II veteran who, Peter says, could be extremely violent as a result of the mental trauma he suffered after fighting on the Russian front line for the Germans.

It was an often traumatic childhood, but one that Peter says has given him a strong survival instinct.

As a teenager, Peter was apprenticed to his father and, during this time, witnessed an event that shaped him for life. As Peter tells it, his father had complained to the council for years about an unsafe auto engine business at the back of his shop in Kepler St (at what is now Day Kitty), warning it was a major fire hazard.

The inevitable happened and a fire from the engine business swept through a number of buildings, including a garage that housed the Hulin’s new car. Peter, who was then 17, and his father attempted to retrieve the vehicle but such was the shock and strain, his father suffered a heart attack and died in front of him.

Peter saw the tragedy as an avoidable problem that, because of the council’s ineptitude, had catastrophic consequences.

“I understood then that if you had a problem, you sort it out: you don’t pretend that it is not happening,” he says.

“When someone comes to me with a problem now, I try and sort it out for them and get something done, and I cannot see why that is considered being radical.”

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #DC943C;”]T [/dropcap]he difficult and ultimately tragic relationship with his father saw Peter seek out his own role models and he has several older mentors who continue to guide his thinking.

He also absorbs information like a sponge, listening to ABC 774 rather than 3AW and reading biographies on inspiring leaders such as Abraham Lincoln.

“I want to know what I don’t know,” he says.

A passionate, rather than a passive, approach has always been Peter Hulin’s style. Before being elected to council (it took two attempts), he wrote copious letters to the local paper, outlining where Warrnambool could do and be much better.

“Those same issues are the ones I am still fighting for today – CBD renewal, pedestrian safety, the environment,” he says.

“I fix things for a living. I can see the potential in someone’s old piece of furniture and what can be done with it. And I can see Warrnambool bursting with potential, but it is being held back.”

With council elections to be held next year, Peter Hulin will again be among the candidates and, if re-elected, has no intention of pulling his head in.

“Making the right decisions can be hard: it is easy to just blob along and not rock the boat, but I am not like that,” he says.

“I know who I am and what I am made of and not many people can say that. If you stand up for what you believe in, it can be very difficult, but nobody can question your integrity in being prepared to do it.”

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Analysis – Carol Altmann

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A5CECD;”] T [/dropcap]here are two things which always go up each May: the Warrnambool City Council rates, and the council’s corporate marquee at the May Racing Carnival.

They make for a painful double.

Painful because ratepayers are again facing a 5.5% increase in their annual rate bill, following on from a 5.5% rise last year, which is more than double the inflation rate and amounts to an 11% increase in two years. (Glenelg Shire Council recently announced a 1.95% rate rise).

This means, for example, if you were paying $1700 in rates in 2013-14, you can expect to pay almost $1900 this financial year.

Cities the size of Warrnambool are not cheap to run and ratepayers collectively contribute around a third of the total $64 million operational budget, with the remainder coming from grants and user fees and charges, so every cent – and how it is spent – counts.

The council reminded us of this at its monthly council meeting (May 4) when it outlined where it had tried to make savings – by trying a different road building method, for example – and how some of the big-ticket items, like the drainage tunnel for Simpson St, were both necessary and costly.

“Times are tough”, “budgets are tight”, “things will only get harder when rates are capped”, are common mantras around the council at the moment, which is why a corporate tent at the May Racing Carnival seems like a complete waste of money and an insult to ratepayers.

Last year, the hospitality tent had a budget of around $25,000, but actually spent $17,000 on the 90 guests who attended out of 168 that were invited.

While $17,000 is small in an operational budget of $64 million, it is the perception that bites: the council’s corporate tent at the races is still considered “non negotiable” when it comes to savings.

(We asked, but have not been told, the budget or guest list for this year. Judging by the photo above, however, it may have at least been scaled back.)

It might be more palatable if the hospitality brought some tangible rewards, but based on last year’s event, the party is largely made up of council staff, councillors and members of the various boards, bodies and legal firms that the council already works with on a regular basis. In other words, it is a junket.

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A5CECD;”] P [/dropcap]erception also comes into play when we look at the vehicle provided to the Chief Executive Officer as part of a $288,000 annual salary package.

In the rubbery figure ways of corporate salary packages, this car is valued at $10,000, but don’t expect a car that is actually worth $10,000 – that is a reflection of the annual leasing cost.

In reality, the council provides its CEO with a sleek Hyundai Genesis that is worth around $60,000 and which sucks up 11.2 litres of fuel per 100km. Surely, in these cost-cutting times, something like a Toyota Prius would be a better choice and more environmentally friendly – if not as “corporate” – and send a message to ratepayers that everyone is doing their bit.

On the subject of rubbery figures, given the forensic nature of setting a budget and justifying where and why each dollar should be spent, it was extraordinary to learn earlier this week that some material provided to councillors has been cut and pasted from previous years.

Cr Peter Hulin made the discovery – which he shared at this month’s council meeting – after comparing what are called “service overviews” from previous budget papers to those provided in this year’s papers.

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A5CECD;”] T [/dropcap]hese service overviews detail how an area has performed, and how much money it needs for the coming financial year, so, for example, Aquazone will detail how many people came through its doors, how many people enrolled in learn-to-swim classes etc.

Astonishingly, Cr Hulin found that the service overviews for at least 10 council areas – including Aquazone, Flagstaff Hill, the library, Lighthouse Theatre, art gallery and even environmental health services – had the same figures appearing year after year after year.

In the case of Aquazone, for example, precisely 213,377 people went through the gates and 19,596 people enrolled in learn to swim classes for three years straight.

Let’s be clear: these are figures presented to councillors as part of official budget documents and, irrespective of how much weight they carry in final deliberations, they are simply false. How does this happen?

CEO Bruce Anson could not provide an immediate answer to the meeting, although he did say that he believed the service overview sheets were not updated “for one year”.

“I will have to take the question on notice and get back to you,” he said.

The answer is certain to be interesting and underscores why, when it comes to budgets, it’s always worth reading the fine print.

[box]People can make written submissions on the proposed budget until Wed June 5. The budget will be formally adopted at the WCC meeting on June 22. You can download the draft budget here. [/box]

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ANALYSIS – Carol Altmann

The attempted shaming of three Warrnambool City councillors for speaking to a journalist is yet another step toward shutting off information to the public.

And if you care about freedom of speech and freedom of the media, then the events of the past few days should be very troubling.

First, some background.

Late last week, the agenda for this Tuesday’s council meeting was released and contained a report given to chief executive officer Bruce Anson from the Local Government Investigations and Compliance Inspectorate following its investigation into the leaking of confidential council documents to The Age early last year.

The inspectorate concluded that it could not determine who leaked the documents.

But it did conclude that three councillors – Brian Kelson, Peter Hulin and Peter Sycopoulis – met with a journalist from The Age the night before it ran the first of several stories about links between then-Premier Denis Napthine and Midfield Meats owner, Colin McKenna.

It was not hard to reach this conclusion, because the councillors told the inspectorate about this meeting.

After all, it has never been an offence for an elected official to speak to a journalist and it happens every day.

The assumption, of course, is that the three councillors used this meeting to hand over secret documents, but this is wrong.

The Age journalists, Royce Miller and Ben Schneiders, have issued a statement to say that they were already in possession of the documents before this meeting.

How did they get the documents? Who knows, but in a world dominated by public relations officers and media managers, leaks and whistleblowing are often the only ways that information in the public interest can come to light.

The inspectorate knew the three councillors had done nothing illegal, and it prepared a confidential report naming the three councillors that could only be released with the approval of the CEO, Mr Anson.

Ironically, Mr Anson decided to make this confidential report public, and included it in the agenda. In other words, what is and isn’t kept confidential by council is entirely at Mr Anson’s discretion.

A front page headline by The Standard followed but, in what I believe is unprecedented for a newspaper, it didn’t defend the profession of journalism that relies on research, well-placed sources, whistleblowers and leaks, but instead leapt on the “revelation” that three councillors had met with a journalist, as if this was a crime.

Its sycophantic editorial went even further and defended the former Premier against such “damaging” behaviour, saying that he must “be itching” to ask what was discussed between the councillors and The Age journalists.

This is coming from an organisation that knows the trust between a journalist and a source is fundamental to flushing out what those in power don’t want you to know, but is in the public interest: like the fact – as reported by The Age – Dr Napthine (and our Federal MP Dan Tehan) held shares in a racehorse with Mr McKenna.

A compliant newspaper and a media-managed council is a powerful combination in a regional city, and it could soon get even worse.

Lost within the story is a recommendation by the inspectorate that the Warrnambool City Council put its boot even harder on the neck of elected members.

It has suggested – and the council will now consider – changing its media policy so that councillors MUST tell the council’s communications manager, Nick Higgins, when they speak to a journalist, about anything.

What right has a government inspectorate got to try and gag elected councillors?

It is an outrageous recommendation and one designed purely to ensure that the only information released to the media (and therefore, to you, the public) is that which suits the council’s chief executive or the mayor of the day, whoever they may be.

This closing down of voices in local government is a growing trend across Australia, and comes as newsrooms are shrinking.

Indeed academic papers* have been written on this increasing secrecy and the restraining of elected members by tightening a council’s media policy.

We need to ask ourselves, who does such secrecy benefit? It is certainly not intended to benefit you, the humble ratepayer.

No, it is designed for councils to move more and more information behind closed doors so that decisions can be discussed – and made – by those with power without any “distractions” from the public.

This means decisions, when they are made public, are virtually a fait accompli, such as the nine-storey apartment block proposed for 1A Liebig St, or the sale of land to Midfield for an enormous milk processing plant.

And it is designed to keep all of the potential “hot spots” under wraps, such as the true state of affairs of the Fun4Kids festival finances, or the declining patronage at Flagstaff Hill, or the actual salary package paid to the chief executive, or who was invited into the May Races marquee...

We here at Bluestone Magazine have already been cut off by the council’s media unit: our questions now go unanswered and our requests for interviews with certain council staff are denied.

This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules or you refuse to stick to “the message” – but Bluestone will keep investigating nonetheless.

Warrnambool should not be distracted by the public shaming of three councillors for talking to the media – this is not the problem. The much more worrying issue is the move to stop councillors talking to journalists at all.

ANALYSIS – Carol Altmann

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A02F2F;”]T [/dropcap]here was a headline just begging to be written a fortnight ago and it would have read something like this: “Cr Ermacora votes with rogue councillors!”

Or maybe it should have been this: “Shock move: Cr Sycopoulis abandons faction!”

Because despite a sense that the Warrnambool City Council is hopelessly divided 4-3 between two opposing factions who can never see eye-to-eye, they do.

And they sometimes agree on the most surprising and controversial of issues, such as in the case of Cr Jacinta Ermacora voting with the supposed “rogue” councillors Peter Sycopoulis, Brian Kelson and Peter Hulin to refuse a permit for a 2km sewerage pipeline to be built by Midfield Meats from its rendering plant to an existing sewer pit.

This was a significant decision in terms of Midfield Meats – one of the most successful and powerful companies in Warrnambool – being able to press ahead with its plans to upgrade the rendering plant which sits in the heart of a sensitive environmental zone because, when it was first approved 40 years ago, nobody cared about such things. They do now.

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A02F2F;”]A [/dropcap]n hour later, in the same meeting, Cr Sycopoulis stepped away from his supposed rock-solid faction and voted with Crs Ermacora, Askew, Neoh and Gaston to preserve the controversial Rolf Harris mural at the Lighthouse Theatre.

He didn’t have to, they had the numbers, but he did it because that is what he believed should happen.

In other words, both Crs Ermacora and Sycopoulis voted on principles rather than politics and this is exactly as it should be, and it happens more often than you think, but the dramatics that are also part of the current Warrnambool City Council gain much more attention than these occasions.

And nobody is denying that there is conflict and drama, borne from frustration, ideological differences, wrong-doings (perceived or proven) and lapses in leadership, but this is what happens when seven, very different individuals are elected to represent the many different people that make up our city.

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A02F2F;”]W [/dropcap]orking in the media in the past 26 years, I have sat through literally dozens of council meetings in various parts of Australia and watched them transform from stuffy, ultra-formal and dull gatherings made up of mostly businessmen keen to push private interests, into dynamic, diverse forums where not only the councillors are engaged, but the people.

To see the Warrnambool City Council chamber packed for council meetings is a victory for democracy.

And to see our elected officials made up of men and women from different cultural backgrounds, ages, political leanings and occupations is also not only a victory for democracy, but a big beautiful breath of fresh air.

Even if we don’t agree with everything they do or say – should we? – every councillor has to be admired for, as US writer Bréne Brown calls it, stepping into the arena, because that arena is very public, very demanding and, at times, bruising, and that is why most people remain on the sidelines.

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #A02F2F;”]W [/dropcap]hat I don’t understand is why our robust, vibrant and, yes, occasionally dramatic council is considered dysfunctional?

It is in good financial shape and surely it is far less important that councillors sit down and have a convivial meal at the end of each meeting, than it is for important issues to be dissected, debated and thrashed out in public.

Judging by his recent statements, newly elected MP and former Moyne mayor James Purcell is among those who claim our “dysfunctional” council could stop jobs growth in Warrnambool because it has had the temerity to question the building of an enormous milk processing plant and cold storage facility by Midfield Meats in Merrivale.

Midfield’s plans are passing through due process and the elected councillors are doing exactly as they should: watching that process unfold while also listening to the hundreds of people in and around Merrivale who have concerns about the single greatest change to their neighbourhood in decades.

Leaving aside for one moment the handful of jobs that will actually be created by this expansion, surely a council is not elected to be a mere rubber stamp for developments and developers?

If so, they should be more rightly described as corporations, not councils.

The day our councillors start to fall silent on the significant issues within our city is when we really need to begin to worry, not when they are making too much noise.

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Analysis – Carol Altmann

If it is decided – as looks likely – to keep the mural by convicted child molester Rolf Harris in the Warrnambool Lighthouse Theatre, we must also decide to remove the perspex and present it in its full glory.

Otherwise, what is the point?

The arguments have been coming thick and strong from some in our community that the mural should be treated as a sacrosanct piece of art, up there with the likes of works by other “immoral” artists such as Caravaggio and Picasso and Rubens (none of whom, by the way, were convicted child molesters).

If we really believe this, we must take down the perspex and put the mural on show like the work of these masters.

There has also been the argument that art must be viewed as completely separate to any appalling crimes of the artist.

If we really believe all art work stands alone, why would we want to keep the Harris mural covered?

Indeed, if the mural stays – as the local newspaper and others have argued it must – then we need to stand by our conviction that any piece of art comes first, ahead of all else, and be proud of our decision.

The council could go even further and promote the fact that Warrnambool has what we consider to be a treasured work by Harris available for viewing, given that around the world his art has either been taken down or, as in the case of a similar impromptu mural in Melbourne, painted over.

A small sign could be added to explain that it was decided to keep the mural after a robust public discussion conducted largely through Facebook because the Warrnambool City Council, which owns the mural, failed to offer any leadership on the issue.

Indeed it has been eight months since the future of the Harris mural was first raised in July last year, and again in September, when Mayor Michael Neoh said it would be part of a council briefing paper in the near future.

It is now almost March and there has been no formal discussion either in the council or outside of it, perhaps in the hope that it would drift from people’s minds.

The only reason it is being talked about again now is because Cr Peter Hulin – who supports its removal – raised it and, like Cr Jacinta Ermacora before him, he plans to bring it up at the council briefing on Monday (16/2). These briefings are not open to the public.

Meanwhile, amid all the bluster about the dire consequences of removing the mural, there has been little regard for those who have suffered at the hands of child molesters like Harris.

These voices have been absent, despite assertions last year that they would be taken into account.

I contacted the South Western Centre Against Sexual Assault this week to see if they had been approached by anyone within or on council about the mural. No, they hadn’t.

I also contacted Emma House Domestic Violence Services to see if they had been approached by anyone within or on council about the mural issue. No, they hadn’t.

There are plenty of other people, however, prepared to give their views on what survivors of sexual assault might think.

One, bet-each-way argument they offer is that the mural must stay, even if covered, because it would serve as a permanent reminder of the evils of sexual abuse.

No it wouldn’t.

It would only serve as a permanent reminder that we lacked the courage as a community to roll over an impromptu mural because, according to some commentators, we would be morally obliged to also start demolishing Catholic churches and destroying every piece of art ever created by an artist who had committed a crime.

How ridiculous.

This is a very specific situation that demands a very specific response.

As has been said before, murals are – by their sheer nature – temporary. We had no qualms about recently freshening up the Lake Pertobe maze, for example, with works by Bonsai and Ghost Patrol, and it will no doubt be freshened up again in years to come.

What is not temporary, however, is the impact that the actions of sexual predators like Harris have on those they abuse.

The sick reality is that one in three girls and one in six boys are sexually abused in Australia and while we wring our hands about this shocking statistic, we too often shrink back from the opportunity to take a bold stand.

This is one such opportunity.

Instead of hiding Harris’s work behind a plastic cover, I would rather see an artist like Jenny Altmann (disclosure: my former sister in law) whose work often deals with the gritty themes of domestic violence and sexual abuse, be invited by the Mayor to re-interpret this mural.

This is not a debate about book burning, or slashing the canvases of Caravaggio, or demolishing places of worship.

It is about replacing a mural with a mural – and sending a strong message that when it comes to sexual abuse, perpetrators have nowhere to hide.