There is a common refrain among professional board members that focuses on sausage rolls. Admittedly, it is very much “you had to be there” humour that appeals to only a limited number of people, but bear with me for a moment here.
The joke reflects the fact that there are a significant number of people who have no insight into what governors do who think that we are either there for the hefty board fees, which are not particularly hefty, or for the savouries that we supposedly consume during board meetings.
Those people do not realise that we are legally and morally responsible for the performance of the organisations we govern. If it goes wrong, we can be held personally liable and can even be sent to jail. Most governors take their roles incredibly seriously and put in a significant amount of effort, always mindful that they are kaitiaki for the organisations they are entrusted with.
And so it was interesting to tune into the wireless this week and hear of one Auckland city councillor on a crusade to stop the council from catering meetings. Auckland Mayor Len Brown, himself no slouch when it comes to having old, white man reckons, suggested that perhaps councillors could focus on more important issues. But no, the savouries were the focus of the coverage.
The said councillor told the media that it was not just savouries. Shock and horror, there are even paninis on offer at board meetings sometimes. I imagine the scandal now. Next thing you know, we will have journalists staking out the council chambers with night-vision cameras, documenting every daring nibble and rebellious sip of water.
Let’s be honest. Catering at meetings is a practical matter, not a strategic decision. The Auckland Council is managing an operating budget measured in the billions. The draft Long Term Plan for 2024 to 2034 projects operating expenditure well over 10 billion dollars across all the council’s activities. We are talking about transport networks, wastewater systems, parks and libraries, community services, economic development, and regulatory functions that keep people safe and ensure quality of life.
In that context, the cost of providing light refreshments for councillors and staff is utterly immaterial. We are not talking about degustation menus with wine pairings or golden sausage rolls stuffed with caviar. We are talking about practical sustenance to keep people awake through marathon planning sessions and late afternoon budget workshops.
And yet here we are, with a councillor publicly declaring a moral stance against paninis. It makes a catchy headline or a snappy radio soundbite, but does it improve housing affordability, reduce congestion, help with climate resilience, or stabilise rates? Not so much. But apparently, it provides endless fodder for Twitter threads debating the existential ethics of focaccia.
What it does do is remind us how easily public debate can be derailed by trivialities. Councillors and officials understand that catering should not be wasteful. Policies exist for reasonable expenditure, dietary needs, and minimising waste. But presenting a story about councillors daring to eat paninis as evidence of profligacy is a narrative that sticks harder than the cheese in the sandwiches.
The people doing the work know there are far bigger issues. There is the perennial challenge of transport infrastructure as Auckland’s population grows, the need to balance competing priorities without overburdening ratepayers, and the urgent business of protecting our environment, managing our coastline in the face of climate change, ensuring stormwater systems cope with more intense weather events, and providing the services that keep communities healthy and vibrant. These issues shape whether Auckland is a city people are proud to call home.
And so, while the image of councillors squabbling over whether there should be paninis or plain sandwiches may provoke a chuckle, it is worth remembering that it earns attention precisely because it is trivial. It is a symptom of a media environment that favours the quirky over the complex, the trivial over the substantive.
The councillor in question may genuinely care about prudent use of public funds, and that is admirable. Scrutiny is healthy, and asking hard questions about expenditure is important. But if we are going to critique the council’s operating expenditure, let us talk about multi-million dollar projects, rate increases, the cost structures of essential services, and the long-term financial strategy. Let us have that debate instead of fixating on whether the mini quiches have been replaced by focaccia, or whether the tomato on the panini is ethically sourced from a locally grown, socially conscious, artisanal tomato farm.
At the end of the day, the joke about sausage rolls persists not because governors are frivolous or obsessed with snacks, but because most people outside that world have no real understanding of the weight of responsibility involved. They see a meeting, they see food, and they imagine excess. They do not see the hours of preparation, the reports read late into the night, the difficult choices made when every option has trade-offs and every decision affects real people.
So, to circle back to where we began, yes, there is humour in the idea of board members and councillors fighting over savouries. But let us not let that humour overshadow the fact that the real work being done in those meetings is serious and consequential. Let us not mistake a debate about catering for a meaningful conversation about how Auckland’s billions of dollars are being stewarded for the benefit of its communities. And if the panini police want to continue their vigil, perhaps they should at least bring some napkins.
