LOCAL GOVERNMENT COUNCILLORS: FROM GOOD INTENTIONS TO NARCISSISTS EVERYWHERE!

Plaques, photo ops, and self-promotion over community service!

When did serving the people turn into serving themselves?

By Dean Hurlston

Across Victoria and the rest of Australia, thousands of individuals each election cycle put up their hand to serve as local government councillors.

They begin their journey, in most cases, with noble intentions — a desire to improve their community, represent their neighbours, and give something back. But for many, what begins as an honourable calling quickly transforms into a disillusioning experience that leaves them far removed from the communities they once sought to serve.

The reality is that the role of a councillor is nothing like what most expect. Many go into it believing they’ll have the power to make meaningful decisions that reflect the needs and wishes of their constituents. Instead, they soon find themselves isolated from the very electors who put them in office. Public meetings, community forums, and direct engagement give way to endless briefings behind closed doors. Council officers — the unelected bureaucracy — become the gatekeepers of information. These officers present the material they want councillors to see, shape the narratives, and, more often than not, tell councillors what they should think and how they should vote.

Over time, subtle and not-so-subtle coercion creeps in. Officers become adept at controlling outcomes through tactics that range from overwhelming councillors with complex reports and legal jargon to quietly suggesting that alternative views would be “reckless,” “unworkable,” or “non-compliant.” Any councillor who dares to challenge the status quo risks being labelled disruptive, difficult, or even “bringing the council into disrepute” — a favourite phrase used to keep elected members in line.

While many councillors enter the chamber determined to represent their communities, they often end up substituting genuine community sentiment with their own opinions and biases. Instead of rigorously testing community will — which is the heart of the role — they vote according to what they believe is best, or worse, what suits their personal ideology or ambitions. They seem to forget, or perhaps never fully understand, that their job is not to advance their own views but to be the voice and servant of the community majority.

As the months and years pass, the distance between councillor and community tends to grow. The longer a councillor remains in office, the more out of touch they often become. What begins as a community-minded mission turns, for many, into a pursuit of personal prestige. The desire to make a real difference fades, replaced by the pursuit of shiny plaques, photo opportunities, and public recognition. It becomes less about doing the right thing and more about being seen doing the right thing — or at least looking important in staged photographs next to a new footpath, playground, or building bearing a plaque with their name.

A disturbing pattern emerges: the longer councillors stay, the more they come to believe they are indispensable. They slip into a narcissistic mindset, convinced that their opinions and presence are crucial to the success of every project, the wellbeing of every resident, the future of the municipality itself. Council meetings become less about listening and more about grandstanding. Media releases and newsletters are filled with their names and faces. And behind the scenes, many work hard to secure board appointments, committee memberships, awards, accolades — even lobbying quietly for an Order of Australia Medal (OAM) to cap off their ‘service’ to a community that doesn't at all know them!

For some, this narcissism was always part of the motivation for running. Many are drawn to the councillor role not to serve, but to be seen, to network, to pad their CV, or to lay the groundwork for a tilt at higher office. They crave the title, the status, the sense of importance. They love nothing more than a plaque unveiling or a ribbon-cutting, particularly if their name will be immortalised in bronze.

Let me be clear - there should be zero names on plaques - the building or infrastructure was paid by your public money, "the Mayor and Councillors are not doing you a favour."

Yet the saddest truth is that the really good councillors — the ones who genuinely put community above self — often come and go quietly. They do their job with humility, shun the limelight, and focus on listening rather than telling. They don’t stay long, because they see through the charade. They tire of the game-playing, the manipulation by officers, the empty ceremonies, and the growing distance between council and community. These councillors measure their success not in photo ops or awards, but in small victories for residents, and they leave when they feel their work is done.

Meanwhile, the public’s perception of councillors remains largely one of indifference. Most community members don’t think much of their councillors, and many can’t even name them.

They see councillors as disconnected, ineffective, or self-interested — and too often, they are right.

Local government has the potential to be the most responsive, community-driven level of government. But until councillors remember that the role is about the community, not themselves, and not their own personal views or ideologies, that potential will remain tragically unfulfilled.

PS. If you are a councillor reading this and laugh - you are doing well, if it makes you uncomfortable, it's likely about you!

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Look at me - I am tirelessly serving the community; now let's ensure my name is on the plaque......

Are councillors too focused on themselves?

• Yes
• No