Public Address - Club Politique (Home)

Conduct Unbecoming | Nov 23, 2005 21:09

As I mentioned the other day I've very recently taken up full-time employment in the Public Service. I had been occupied in a number of short-term contracts prior to my current employer, [prominent financial institution], but this is my first 'grown-up job' since finally giving up on academia.

Now, seen as there has been a bit of a kafuffle in the blogsphere recently I thought I might share my own approach to handling the main issue getting between me and this keyboard, the Public Service Code of Conduct. And hold on there State Services Commission employees!! I'm not about to take this one to task, I just thought that I've dish out a little advice to aspiring and current bloggers who might share my employment in the State Sector.

The first thing you all might need to know is that Che Tibby is the name on my birth certificate. If one more person suggests I changed my name to be more 'hip' or 'left', I'll have a freaking aneurysm. What this means to the real world though is that I don't get to hide behind any stupid pseudonym. But it also means that any of the stupid things I might say are likely to end up being brought before my bosses.

And there's the crux of the issue. From what I gleaned in reading about the blogger who recently lost his job, it looks as though he said some venomous things about his workmates and bosses. From my experience with dealing with the Right Wingers in the blogsphere, this is hardly surprising. Some people are just born idiots.

The rule I like to apply in my personal life is this: I do my utmost to never, ever say something about someone behind their back I wouldn't have the brass to say to their face. If you've heard from somewhere that I've said something about you, if it's true then I'll say it to you in person. And I extend that rule to the interweb.

So, if you aren't prepared or able to front up to your workmate and call them a frickin' tosser, then WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU PREPARED TO PUT IT IN A BLOG? That makes you either a coward, a petty gossip, or a munter, your choice.

OK, the Code of Conduct. Pretty much the first thing I did when I got the full-time job was to make an appointment with my manager and let him know exactly what it was I had been writing. As it was I had it confirmed that I had been turned down for one job specifically because of Club Politique, so I wasn't prepared to have it become an issue at my new place of work.

Also, if you have a blog of any profile at all, make sure you put a big mention of it in your CV if you intend to continue writing to it. It would be a foolish workplace indeed that tried to reprimand you retrospectively for something they must surely have taken into consideration when hiring you.

That said, the Code of Conduct establishes a very, very clear obligation for you to not bring your workplace into disrepute. Moreover, it also states explicitly that you are not to use the access to information you gain as a Public Servant for either personal gain or to embarrass the Government.

Naturally you're only human, and the Code deliberately leaves room for you to freely express your opinions and to participate in the political life of New Zealand. But, as was pointed out to me by a radio personality this past Sunday, the inability of Public Sector employees to directly criticise the Government of the day does effectively act to constrain a large number probably well-educated and informed citizens. So before you go making fully frank observations about things you might not be entirely happy with, think very carefully about the trade-off you've made.

Although the Code does prohibit a certain degree of outspokenness on the part of Public Servants, it's something necessary for the Government to maintain trust in the fairness and impartiality of the bureaucracy, whatever the party in power. And again, it doesn't mean you can't participate in politics, it just means you don't get to be a radical idiot about it.

Now, despite the seemingly widespread opinion that I'm some sort of communist, that opinion is wrong. I am a liberal. I believe and practice the liberal values of freedom of speech, freedom of expression, freedom of association, and perhaps the core tenet, absolute freedom of choice. There is one more, collective responsibility, but that one starts to slip towards philosophical communitarianism, and we don't have time for that argument.

And how do I reconcile these values with surrendering some of my ability to speak openly? Because I made the choice to do so. No-one held a gun to my head and asked me politely to become a Public Servant. Much like the trade-offs in freedoms we all make to belong to society, trade-offs like taxation, limiting anti-social behaviour, and acceptance of majority decisions, the trade-off in being a Public Servant is that you have to curb your more extreme opinions.

[Prominent financial institution] has been very tolerant of the minimal public profile Club Politique provides me, and in return I have agreed in writing to three main constraints. Firstly, I will not represent any of my personal views as those of my employer. Secondly, I will not bring the Government of the day into disrepute by my actions. You could also kind of call that one 'just act with a little decorum'. And thirdly, pretty much the moment I get a position with the word 'Senior' in the title the dream is over (because at this time it will become very difficult to have my words not construed as government opinion).

OK I hear you say, if that happens why don't you just pick up some stupid pseudonym and start somewhere else? Because that path is a haven for assholes. Does the world really need one more slightly deranged and/or disaffected apparatchik spouting bile?

Anyhow, I hope my take on the matter has been helpful. If you are looking to become a Public Servant just remember to keep everything above board, and you should be right.

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Herded on the Grapevine | Nov 21, 2005 20:24

It's hard to think ill of people you know? You like to think of people as gentle and graceful souls at heart. You think of them as intelligent and amenable. Perhaps you think of them as reasonable and forthright.

Regardless of how you see those around you, the people you see on a regular basis or strangers in the street, it's hard not to think that at heart, people are just basically 'good'. To think that people are rational and 'with it'.

And then you see 10500 people spend eight hours getting frickin' hammered.

To revive an old and classic Kiwi phrase there was a 'power of piss' put away at Toast Martinborough this past Sunday. As the official representative of Public Address at the event, a friend of mine and I were whisked away to Featherston by train at the ungodly hour of 9.30am. Now, how in the hell I managed to get onto a corporate carriage to this event I cannot rightly say, but the hardships we endured are beyond mention.

A seemingly endless supply of champagne. Brown-bagged breakfast bagels, fruit salad and croissants. A seamless ride from the city to the country, and buses awaiting. And there it was, a wine festival and fantastic weather. Torture. Absolute torture. No one should have to endure that.

Mind you, and as a glimpse of the day unfolding, even before we had left Upper Hutt there were reports of one gent having 'had a little too much'. Obviously not a stayer there, chum. I meanwhile was pacing myself, mostly for fear of not finding a 'comfort stop' available on the train itself; but this type of decorum was not to last.

We pretty much hit the ground running. Do yourself a favour and hit above link to the Festival website. See that look in the chaps eye? See the blushing cheeks on the lady friend? See the slightly amorous look in his eyes and the carefully placed hands?

Hardened drinking does that. Believe me.

Weeeeelll... I do exaggerate a little. I made it to work today without too much hassle, so I guess I'm not as legendary a drunk as I make out, but damn, what a time was had.

Probably the most memorable part of the day was the sheer weight of people at the events spread through Martinborough's vineyards. People queuing for wine, people queuing for food, women queuing for the bathrooms, guys sneaking off behind hedges and flax bushes for a tinkle.

There people dancing just about everywhere. Fantastic food at not entirely pocket-gouging prices. All kinds of great bands and entertainers. Wine at prices that made 'tasting' a joke (let's face facts people. No-one goes to a festival to 'taste'. If you're that keen just go over to a cellar door, and save a heap of cash).

Not that that's a criticism mind you, things were pretty much as you'd expect on any city night out. But, this event had the distinct advantage of taking place on a beautiful Sunday, at times light winds wafting through the vineyards. Mostly. It is the Wellington region after all.

At one point we found ourselves lounging there in the vines at Ata Rangi. Look, there's no other word for it but bliss. The wine porters found us and brought a sticky over, and there we lay.

So other people trudged according to schedule around as many vineyards as possible to try as many wines as possible and part with as many Martinborough francs as possible before their time ran out and they missed seeing their favourite band and/or performer play their favourite song.

And we just lay in the grass while 'Philippa' brought us the Kahu Botrytris Riesling.

Before that we sat high on some bleachers and people-watched, and waited for 'Howard' to bring us the Chardonnay.

We grooved along to Goldenhorse. We went to a place and danced to old school rock and roll. We spent money on more than enough select Chardonnays and Sauv Blancs. We talked politics with some radio guy.

And all around us people staggered to and fro constantly. They sang Culture Club and Po Karekare Ana in the bus on the way back to the train station. Some hardened Aussie sheilas cackled and sexually harassed me on the shuttle bus between vineyards. I felt so... cheap. People danced the worst dances you've ever seen. I saw blokes wearing wedding dresses... Enough?

Pissed idiots galore. Thank god it was Sunday or they might have trashed the whole village.

I already can't wait till next year.

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