Up against a wall of silence

By TIM WATKIN

The new $200 million Auckland City Hospital has some of the best harbour views in the city. But last week, for staff at least, the shutters went up.

Three of the hospital's senior medical staff who criticised medical services were gagged with written warnings that meant they could be fired if they spoke out again.

First came the news that two doctors, understood to be Dr Les Galler and Dr Gill Hood, had been warned for comments on television in April that the city was ill-prepared for an outbreak of Sars (severe acute respiratory system).

Then it was Bruce Twaddle's turn. The head of orthopaedic trauma was called to appear before management, and an announcement was then made that he had also been formally warned.

His crime: three weeks ago he told the Herald that the new hospital would result in reduced orthopaedic services.

"It means patients aren't getting looked after by orthopaedic-trained staff in an orthopaedic-designed unit. It's not ideal," he said.

"It comes down to a lack of beds in the new hospital to accommodate the population it needs to service ... The restriction of resources that we will continue to face compromises the care we can give to our patients."

To most people, such a public warning would hardly warrant the clamps being brought out of the operating theatre to be used on Mr Twaddle's mouth.

The doctors' union, the Association of Salaried Medical Specialists, did not think so, and has filed personal grievance proceedings against the Auckland District Health Board.

Neither did 10 of Mr Twaddle's colleagues, who signed a letter to hospital general manager Meng Cheong saying Mr Twaddle was acting "purely as an advocate".

"Any censure delivered to Bruce would be considered to be delivered equally to each of us and we would act accordingly," they said. Under pressure the censure was withdrawn yesterday.

For health reporters, the surprise was not that doctors should face censure but that such candid views should be offered at all. The Auckland District Health Board is not alone in its restrictive approach.

Getting frank, unfettered comment from public service staff is becoming increasingly difficult. Publicity minders work to ensure they stay "on-message".

It is common to find that officials are not allowed to talk without permission from their media minders, and for journalists to wait days, sometimes weeks, while those minders "find the best person for you".

Reporters are frequently asked to supply written questions and receive written answers that control - often limit - what the public can discover.

Perhaps most frustrating and concerning of all, head offices often block direct access to frontline public service staff - those in the know.

The war stories are many. This year, the Ministry of Women's Affairs gave the Business Herald submissions on its pay equity document - six months after they were requested.

A request to the Corrections Department from the Weekend Herald to interview parole officers about their work was denied.

Written replies to written questions were offered, but never came.

Author Nicky Hager asked for "routine information" from a crown research institute and was told it would cost him around $1 million.

Says Jim Tully, head of mass communication and journalism at Canterbury University: "My feedback from journalists is that in the past five to 10 years, the [public] system has got much more secretive and more obstructive."

His concern, shared by many in the news trade, is that the interests of departments or organisations are being put ahead of the public's right to know about the agencies they finance.

Tully says there has been a slide into secrecy since public service restructuring began in the mid-1980s.

A new corporate style of management was introduced, and with it came tight corporate-style controls on information and public comment.

"When the power boards and harbour boards became power companies and port companies and so on, a lot of media access was closed down," he says.

A new type of manager appeared.

"The old type came through a public service career path, but they were replaced by managers from the corporate sector who didn't have that same culture of openness."

Public relations staff, previously used only by private companies, spread quickly through the public service so that now, Tully says, "every tin-pot agency" has one.

The information flow is being tightened throughout the country.

Last month, the Otago Polytechnic's council - with members representing staff, students, Ngai Tahu and the Dunedin City Council, among others - approved a code of conduct that allows only the chairman to make public comment.

Leah McBey, chairwoman of the subcommittee that drew up the code, told the Otago Daily Times: "I do not believe expressing individual opinions contrary to collective opinion would enhance the institution."

The elected Canterbury District Health Board has adopted the same policy, despite the parliamentary health select committee's urging that all members should "speak publicly to their communities freely".

The board's policy says: "Board members must appreciate that public criticism of the institution and the management of the institution will lead to a lessening of the public confidence in the institution and is inherently unfair, as management cannot respond to criticisms."

Board communications manager Vivienne Allan says the 11-member board voted 9-2 to gag itself.

The Northland District Health Board embargoes its agenda until after the meeting, killing off public debate on issues until they have had their say.

In reply to Herald questions, communications manager Alison Lees wrote: "The board provides meetings information to the media in excess of statutory requirements.

"The embargo is intended to encourage the media to seek comment from the board when writing stories from agendas so that the board has an opportunity to present factual and balanced public information."

Questions about media management to the Tairawhiti District Health Board and the Ministry of Health were also answered in writing.

All three replies were written by media managers who said the comments could be attributed to their organisations' chief executives.

"The Ministry of Health is committed to being informative, co-operative and accessible to journalists at all times," it wrote in reply to a request for an interview.

The ministry's chief media adviser said she couldn't comment on its media policies as she wasn't a designated spokesperson.

Says Tully: "This kind of media management is all designed to control the flow of information and put the best possible spin on any information released."

Restrictions on the ability of public service staff to speak - and criticise - come in many forms. Some are minor, some are purely practical, but restrictions they remain.

Many organisations, for example, divert all media calls to the communications staff. Journalists may know exactly who they need to talk to, but if they tell the operator who they are, they will find themselves explaining their questions to a communications person.

Media managers say this ensures they give prompt, professional replies.

Managers from various Government departments said they could guide journalists more quickly to the person with the most expertise and help meet a deadline, ensure a comprehensive answer was given, and save officials from time-wasting journalists.

They added that many officials were media shy, didn't know the organisation's big picture and might not be aware of the import of what they were saying. A dozen journalists speaking to a dozen different officials could lead to public confusion.

Several also said that if staff had criticisms, they could take them to managers under the Protected Disclosure Act (also known as the whistleblowing act), rather than going public.

Justice Department communications manager Barry Ebert says it's not so much a question of controlling the information, "it's more about professional support".

Local and regional court managers can speak on incidents in their courts, he says, but he is the department's single spokesman on national issues.

"Their primary job is to manage their courts. It's my job to manage the media."

At Corrections, more staff can be delegated to speak, but only after they have been briefed by communications advisers. Corrections and Housing New Zealand both prefer written questions.

"We have to carefully and precisely phrase how a response is given," says HNZ communications manager Tom Bridgeman.

Like most departments and councils, he says, he delegates staff to speak on operational matters, but they are barred from commenting on policy decisions. That should be left to the politicians who set that policy.

Can those staff criticise their organisation?

"They are speaking on behalf of the organisation, so they should be aware of the organisation in giving their response," says Bridgeman after a long pause.

Most departments enforce that awareness through codes of conduct.

Housing New Zealand insists all media inquiries be referred through the media unit; the Justice Department's code says staff must not speak unless authorised and offers help from the corporate communications unit; Corrections' code says media contact is "co-ordinated centrally".

The only exception to these codes is staff who have spokesmen roles with unions or sector groups.

But Marty Braithwaite, of the Association of University Staff, says academics on public committees and councils who have made public criticisms have faced professional threats.

"A fundamental element of a democratic society is that people can hold different views. It's healthy that these are expressed in public," he says.

He points out that the Education Act gives academic staff and students the right to state unpopular opinion and "requires" them to "accept the role as critic and conscience of society".

Bruce Twaddle, Les Galler and Gill Hood must be wishing they had similar protection.