The Transparency Tango: A Two-Council Performance in Delayed Disclosure
Let us distil this for the public record:
- Shropshire Council missed a legal deadline for an FOI request. No reply, no exemption, no excuse. Just tumbleweeds and unread inboxes.
- Oswestry Town Council is withholding a report they promised to publish, citing bureaucratic hocus pocus and invoking FOI laws to delay the inevitable.
This, my friends, is not administration. It is performance art. And the recurring theme? Transparency is a threat to the system.
Act I: Shropshire Council’s FOI Vanishing Act
On 1 March 2025, a Freedom of Information request was submitted to Shropshire Council. The ask was simple: details of their Working from Home protocol. You know, the one that may help explain why so many emails are answered like a Friday night pub quiz—sporadically and with wildly variable accuracy.
The deadline for reply, per the Freedom of Information Act 2000, was 31 March 2025. The Council’s response?
Silence.
Not a holding email, not a polite delay, not even a “sorry, Dave’s off sick.”
This wasn’t just a discourtesy. It was a legal breach. A council paid to serve the public somehow forgot to obey one of the few laws designed to help the public see what’s going on behind the institutional curtain.
And the cherry on top? No justification. No exemption. No extension notice. Just tumbleweed and the distant sound of Email notifications being ignored.
Act II: Oswestry Town Council’s Fireworks Fizzle
Meanwhile, over at Oswestry Town Council, transparency didn’t so much fade as spontaneously combust.
Back in November 2024, the Council—after a particularly shambolic Fireworks Evening—decided to commission a full review. This was discussed in an open session. The review, they promised, would be brought back to Council “in the public domain.”
But when a resident politely requested the finished report in March 2025, it didn’t arrive. Instead, the request was swiftly reclassified as an FOI request, wrapped in procedural red tape, and gently smothered in pre-election caution.
The officer’s reply noted that advice might be needed from both the Monitoring Officer and even the Information Commissioner’s Office, as if the request was a demand for nuclear launch codes or details of the Town Clerks’ salary rather than a public report on a local fireworks event.
What was meant to be a lesson in accountability has become a perfect metaphor for the problem itself: confusion, delay, obfuscation, and a leadership team allergic to daylight.
What We Learn
When local councils feel threatened by the idea of openness, they deploy the tried-and-tested techniques of delay, deflection, and denial. Why respond promptly when you can erect procedural hurdles? Why honour public resolutions when you can reinterpret them as optional suggestions?
We are not dealing with isolated incidents. We are observing a culture—one that fears scrutiny, mistrusts the public, and treats information as political capital rather than public property.
Let Us Not Despair—Let Us Document
Though these councils may clutch their documents with white-knuckled desperation, we shall not stop asking questions. For every missed deadline, every vanishing report, and every curious silence, we will be here to narrate the saga—pen in one hand, sarcasm in the other.
Because in this game of hide-and-seek with democracy, the public deserves more than vague apologies and whispered excuses. It deserves honesty, accountability, and maybe—just maybe—a council that replies to emails.
Until then, people, keep your eyes peeled, your inbox ready, and your irony detectors fully charged.
The Case of the Vanishing Firework Report: A Masterclass in Municipal Misdirection
In the ancient and arcane rituals of Oswestry Town Council, there exists a sacred tradition: take a matter discussed publicly, resolve to publish it… and then, whatever you do, don’t publish it.
Let us examine, through the careful reconstruction of a recent correspondence trail, a shining beacon of how not to do transparency.
26 March 2025, 15:56
Subject: Fireworks in the Park
A concerned resident, armed with a memory longer than the Council’s attention span, politely reminded the Clerk that the Town Council had, in a public meeting held on 6 November 2024, resolved to conduct a review into a bungled fireworks display. Notably, the minutes stated:
“A report would then be brought to Council in the public domain with feedback and criticism received taken into account.”
So far, so democratic.
Said resident then asked, reasonably enough, for a copy of the resulting review report. No FOI request. No tribunal. No flaming torches. Just a plain old, “Can I have what was promised?”
31 March 2025, 09:36
Reply from the Town Clerk:
“I am writing to acknowledge your email dated the 26th of March 2025 as a request under the Freedom of Information Act… I may need to take advice from the Monitoring Officer and possibly the Information Commissioner’s Office.”
Behold the transformation! A public report discussed in open session, destined for the public domain, is now being routed through the FOI labyrinth—because nothing says “we’re being open” like consulting legal counsel about whether the public deserves to see what the public already paid for.
We are now, dear voter, in Pre-Election Purdah—a period not to be confused with a period of “not doing anything.” Though often used as an excuse err… to not do anything, it doesn’t actually prevent the release of documents previously designated as public. But why let fact get in the way of strategic delay?
31 March 2025, 11:30
Reply from the resident (our unsung hero of patience):
The correspondent—clearly too familiar with the rules of engagement—pointed out, quite correctly, that this was not an FOI request. The Council had already resolved, publicly, to publish the report. There were no exemptions cited, no closed session minutes, and no indication of Schedule 12A secrecy. The report is a public document. Or at least it was, before the fog of avoidance settled in. The guardians of local democracy assemble—A rare glimpse of the transparency taskforce… just before they voted to make the Fireworks Report disappear.
The Dream Team
And that, people, is where our tale ends for now. Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with an unanswered email. But, this tale isn’t over. It’s merely paused—awaiting the next twist, the next email, the next Freedom of Imagination response.
But know this: we are watching. With pens, with persistence, and with sarcasm finely honed.
Because the councils of Shropshire may fear sunlight, but the public has torches.
The Irony?
This entire saga is about a review meant to address failures of communication, leadership, and planning. And the very report on that review has now fallen victim to err… failures of communication, leadership, and planning. An infinite loop of accountability avoidance.
The Verdict
Transparency in Shropshire Council and Oswestry Town Council is not dead. It’s just resting. Probably in a locked filing cabinet, in a disused lavatory, behind a sign that reads “Beware of the Dog.”
But fear not. We shall continue to shine a light—however dimmed by Council policy—into the cobwebbed corners of local government. One day, perhaps, the people of Shropshire will be able to read a fireworks report without hiring a solicitor, filing an FOI, or performing a rain dance over the Town Council’s letterbox.
I suppose it could be worse, we could end up with this idiot.
The Alternative Council 