Fresh Take: Secrecy will be the default not the exception if journalists are left outside

By Sabrina Sweeney

Most people in Donegal want two things: safety in their community and accountability of those delivering state services. For years, the Joint Policing Committees offered a public space where councillors, Garda representatives and members of the media could sit in the same room and discuss issues, with opportunities for concerns to be aired in the open.

When I started covering council meetings as a journalist almost twenty years ago, a seasoned reporter gave me a piece of advice that’s stayed with me: “If you can’t be in the room, you can’t tell the story.” It was a simple reminder that good journalism doesn’t happen behind a desk. It depends on being in the council chamber or at the policing meeting to hear exactly what’s said, to see how people react, and to record it faithfully for members of the public to hear. That presence matters for accuracy but also for ensuring that local government agencies can be held accountable. The ability to be in the room, to report on matters that concern the public and ensure transparency, is a vital part of a well-functioning democracy. Now, however, under new government guidelines, that openness risks being rolled back.

The Department of Justice has advised local councils that media access to the new Local Community Safety Partnerships (LCSPs), which are replacing Joint Policing Committees, should be restricted. In other words, much of the work of these new partnerships could soon happen behind closed doors, away from public scrutiny. The new rules suggest LCSPs, which will include representatives from the HSE, Tusla, An Garda Síochána and community representatives, can facilitate media attendance at their discretion, while for the first year they recommend just one out of six meetings be public to allow relationships and trust to develop. The Department says this arrangement strikes a balance but it’s hard not to feel that the scales are tipping the wrong way, away from transparency and towards secrecy.

The National Union of Journalists has already said the move makes no sense. Journalists covering policing and community safety are there to ensure the public knows what’s being discussed in their name. They aren’t interested in gossip or confidential matters and the option to close parts of meeting if sensitive matters arise has always been there. The difference now is that secrecy will be the default, not the exception. That shift matters because it means less visibility around decisions that affect community safety, fewer opportunities for citizens to see how their representatives are engaging with stakeholders and fewer chances for the media to ask questions on the public’s behalf. The move comes at a time when public trust in journalism is under strain.

Across Ireland and beyond, the media is often accused of bias or spin; the phrase ‘mainstream media’ has almost become shorthand for something suspect. That criticism shouldn’t be ignored, but nor should it be the reason to sit back and watch while journalists’ ability to hold those in power to account is eroded. In rural counties like Donegal, where local newspapers and radio stations are often the only eyes and ears at most public meetings, the absence of that scrutiny will allow decisions to unfold quietly, without context or challenge. In the long run that doesn’t build trust; it hollows it out.

Here in Donegal, the change will be more than just administrative. When the old policing committees met in places like Letterkenny or Ballyshannon, local reporters could attend and share what Gardaí said about crime trends, road safety or anti-social behaviour. Those reports helped residents stay informed and reassured that concerns raised were being heard. But if meetings are held largely in private, it undercuts the very principle of partnership with the public. Reporters who turn up at public meetings aren’t doing it for headlines; they’re doing it to keep democracy honest. When they or public representatives are excluded, something more than a chair is left empty; the public’s voice goes missing too. And the fragile trust that binds a community to the people who serve it won’t be far behind.