And the way recently, I discovered that Maitland, in the 1960s, had a “Noise Abatement Committee”, back when it was noisy, or quiet – not sure which – it seems that such divisions were a built-in feature of the way things worked, part of our modus operandi.
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Of course, we no longer retain an assembly of public servants charged with the muffling of random hellish hullabaloo. They’ve either done their job and went back to sleep, or they just softly dispersed when the din became too big to resist.
Stewards such as these served a genuine purpose – they were there to preserve an element of life which needed protection: if there was unnecessary noise which disturbed the peace and civility of the town and the citizens therein, the ministry of mute would activate.
However, dear reader, modernity has spawned strange new formations of individuals who are out there, grappling and massaging more contemporary issues. They’re charged with the rather ethereal task of relating to the public - they are, ‘Public Relations’ [PR] people.
Of course this lot are ubiquitous, you’ll discover them not only within the halls of government, but in sporting clubs, churches and myriad companies.
And I’m sorry dear reader if you work there, inside a PR nerve centre, busily and imaginatively manufacturing ways that make, taxes, profits, crimes, stuff-ups and honest mistakes seem more desirable, defendable, innocent and understandable.
The rise and rise of PR, it seems, has coincided with the unfortunate advance, and victory, of image over substance.
And the immediacy, potency and pervasiveness of the social media has been a perfect partner for this suave thin fellow, this “style” character - this hollow man.
After all it takes too long to listen to boring old words - lots of them, some of them big and unusual, spoken in sentence after detailed sentence, full of rational argument and information, some of it difficult to understand because of the beastly complexity of the topic.
Yes, when it became obvious that there simply wasn’t the time to tell the, well, let’s say, the complicated truth of a matter – along came some clever people and offered to bundle “it” [the truth] up in such a way that no one would ever know where it had got to...
Obfuscation. Clever, adroit and cunning obfuscation - and it’s been all the rage for awhile now…
But one day, we caught its stench, its ghastly, malodorous scent. And the Public Relations people knew that it was time to liberate the truth from its slogan covered cell.
Therefore, we received the Public Apology. On the field, at the gates of the manor, upon the steps of the town hall, and in the cold light of day - the very public admission of guilt as a way of ameliorating the pain that an aggrieved public feel each time we’re collectively let down – a confession , as it were – with the hope of absolution and forgiveness...
And we do, we will absolve them...we will have forgotten by next week you see, because there will be fresh fodder.
With the aid of a diligent pack investigative reporters or social media dilettantes, into our homes will come the next heartfelt, live, “I’m sorry ...”
We, of course will have demanded it. We will have been outraged, and demanded you repent, demanded a public shaming, demanded that a sword is fell upon.
They’re new personal.
And the way it’s all the rage dear reader, and there’s one
coming your way.
So it goes ...
Goodnight.
