Musings on Town Politics

Norwich is back on the front page once more. This time it's a wrangle over petition wording; what voters will be allowed to decide at Town Meeting; and the fate of our Town Manager. I'll confess the initial article -- in last Friday's Valley News -- elevated my blood pressure some, but I've managed to talk it down and thought I'd share the fruits of my internal debate.

First, some history.

Prior to 2002, this town was run by a select board acting as both legislature (passing ordinances and budgets) and as an executive (managing town department operations). As one might imagine the task was overwhelming. Rather than attempt to collectively manage departments, individual select board members were assigned as "liaisons" to individual departments as a way to divide up the task. Liaisons were to attend meetings and communicate with departments, sharing issues and information with their select board colleagues so collective decisions could be taken.

Results varied. Some departments languished beneath the radar; others effectively utilized their liaison as an advocate for their own interests -- a few becoming so closely identified with individual select board members that budget and policy decisions sometimes became a personal matter between select board members.

Around this same time, Norwich politics had taken a highly partisan tone with the loudest voices viewing most issues in factional terms of us-versus-them. Town departments and employees found themselves walking a narrow path to avoid being perceived as aligned with one faction or the other -- a fraught task where the liaison structure funneled most management communication through individual, often highly partisan, select board members.

Six years ago, amidst some particularly ugly and personal budget arguments at the select board, a frustrated observer organized a petition campaign asking voters to adopt a town manager form of town government. That petition led to an ad hoc town committee which thoroughly examined the town's administrative needs and state law governing town managers and town administrators. The committee contacted a number of Vermont towns to learn of their experience. The final report -- unanimously recommending a town manager -- addressed the pros and cons of each option of town government specifically in the context of our divisive politics. Norwich adopted a town manager form of government at the following town meeting and hired our first town manager in September 2002.

He lasted less than two years.

Our current embattled town manager is nearing a similar milestone.

So what's going on?

For one thing, few seem to have read the October 2001 final report. It's a large document but recommended reading for anyone who wishes to understand how we got here and our options going forward. The report specifically warns that a successful town manager-run town government will require a more restrained select board and greater civility from the townspeople. We've made some progress on both measures, but apparently not enough.

Whether we're talking town managers, class four roads, our police force, gateways, delinquent taxes, or wood-fired boilers, the public discussion seems to quickly elevate to a level of unintended self-parody which is good for Valley News sales, but hard to laugh at ourselves. I've done my fair share of pontificating over the years and, until recently, would have readily given both sides a public tongue-lashing for their roles in another Norwich teapot tempest. Honestly, I've grown tired of the relentless stream of episodes and tired of my own whining about them. Chastened by a look in the mirror, I'm finding some comfort in taking a more philosophical approach and offer these observations.

First, warrant article petitions are a very blunt instrument of government, but apparently an effective method of communication. Both the 2000 petition to adopt a town manager and our 2006 petition to abandon town managers misunderstood the statutory consequences should they succeed. State law requires a change in government almost immediately after such a petition is adopted at town meeting. Consequently, while both petitions were meant to break a political logjam and prompt debate on overall town governance, neither actually offer any time for that debate to occur. That said, the 2000 effort led indirectly to thoughtful and deliberate consideration of town governance and significant changes. Perhaps we're on a similar, indirect, path with the current petition.

Second, we all ought to wonder why such petitions are necessary in the first place. How is it that a town, and town government, of such modest size can require such forceful methods to engage discontent? While 250 signatures may be a small percentage of the town's population, they comprise one third to one quarter of our typical voter turnout and signify substantial disaffection with the status quo. One would think good management -- or at least savvy politicians -- would notice the wind change and respond. One would hope the regular business of town government would provide a forum for the discontent underlying the petition efforts; a forum for venting, being heard, and working through some of these matters without the unilateral winner-takes-all implications of petitions.

Stepping back a bit, it isn't hard to see why this must be so. People are busy, talk is cheap, and who's to say there's substantial discontent until you see how many signatures a petition receives. Norwich seems to host a disproportionate number of people accustomed to getting our own way. This slants our political discourse decidedly in favor of loud, self-certain expression. We're a community of squeaky wheels and there's only so much grease to go around. Under the circumstances, it's inevitable the prime greasers in Tracy Hall will catch some flak.

It may also simply be a fact that the attributes which prompt individuals to seek elected office and help them get elected are not necessarily conducive to good management. Good managers shun popularity contests, instead relying upon having a keen ear to the ground. So our elected representatives survive by riding the waves rather than understanding their source. In this instance, our select board can likely be relied upon to manage the short-term crisis of an awkward warrant article, but it's doubtful they even grasp the underlying causes. Similarly, our town manager will likely recalibrate his ear, tuning into a larger constituency than he has up to now, a bit more wary from the experience. It's certainly a messy way to govern ourselves but, apart from some bruised egos, it's a reasonably responsive system.

Is there any reason to believe a town assistant would fare any better than a town manager under these circumstances?

Which leads me to an uncomfortable suspicion. Perhaps these past eight years of faction and self-righteousness aren't the exception to a more civil state of affairs, but rather typify the new reality. Perhaps we're simply a small pond with a lot of aspiring big fish; a town which is now predominantly self-selected; a population with little, if any, cultural connection to the agrarian small-town houses and landscape we now occupy. Perhaps small town life in an affluent transplant community is really simply our national political and cultural existence writ small. If so, we ought to resign ourselves to the spectacle of a small, vocal minority tussling for power and the opportunity to use it to negate their opponents at every step. The tactics -- the absence of grace or humility in their application -- are a corrosive, gradually reducing democracy to a concept no more meaningful than the right to complain. That tussle, and our tolerance for it, are becoming the public face of this community, perhaps deservedly so. It's a harsh and chastening mirror.