Glass Walls

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN A PERSONAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR I know that a number of people who are referenced in this book or who are connected to its contents in one way or another, either directly or indirectly, will object to the contents for one or more reasons, but I am all right with that. In writing the book, the due diligence included providing appropriate documentation for assertions made while making sure that all opinions offered were clearly identified as such and with appropriate caveats added, such as, “it appears that,” “in my opinion,” and so forth. Nonetheless, some of the book's contents contain a great deal of personal starch. I realize that on such weighty subjects reasonable people can disagree with each other, and unreasonable people are virtually certain to disagree with reasonable people, but in any case, the facts are what they are, and the attendant opinions are derived from them. I mean neither ill will nor animosity for those who are criticized in this book—and some are criticized more than others—but again, the facts are what they are. I'm pretty sure that many who disagree—especially those who disagree strongly—will dismiss these contents with some sweeping generalizations (if there is any response at all) and avoid any in-depth discussion of the contents on the merits. It is my hope that, whether generally or specifically, the contents and candor in this book will translate into real discourse at a granular level, whether written or spoken, about the merits of the important issues which are addressed. Keep in mind that despite the national paradigm shift that elected Barack Obama as president, Texas remains as a very red state, and many people whom I know (friends, relatives, and business associates) share sentiments with several different shades of conservatism and neo-conservatism. But opinions, whatever they are, should be cast in the light day and in full view of all the facts. There will still be disagreements, but the discussions around those disagreements will be more productive because of such transparency. In July of 2006, I added to my consulting practice the client, Texas Disposal Systems (TDS), a solid-waste services company with a landfill in Creedmoor, Texas. TDS is an very unique player in the industry. It's national-award-winning landfill model is unique in its environmental safeguards. It vigorously pursues reduction of the waste stream volume through recycling and composting, and it has a retail outlet chain which sells the composted products in exotic blends. It manages single-stream recycling services for participating customers. In addition, the company has placed on part of its landfill site an exotic game ranch with over 1,200 animals from several continents, and as part of that complex it offers banquet facilities free of charge to qualifying non-profit organizations for charitable events (hosting hundreds of events each year) as well as meeting facilities for public organizations. The TDS organizational structure also is developing a business park on a buffer zone next to the landfill built with soil excavated from the landfill operation. I mention my relationship with TDS not merely to brag about a client (which I am proud to do) but to disclose that I have a connection with the landfill issue in Williamson County which is treated as part of the content in this book. Those who want to claim that there is a conflict of interest here should be wary. As part of my public relations consulting for TDS, I provided information to Williamson County citizens and others about the TDS landfill model and the company's interest in competing for the contract to manage the Williamson County landfill for the county. TDS never had the chance to do that because the (operation agreement) contract was not publicly bid in either 2003 or 2009 when new contracts were consummated between the county and Waste Management of Texas. The factual information, observations and even the criticism which appears in this book relative to the Williamson County landfill emerged to a great extent from my membership in the Hutto Citizens Group (HCG), whose activities were described extensively in this book. I actually was a member of the HCG in 2006 prior to becoming a consultant for TDS and, in fact, I was co-chairman of the original citizens group (Hutto's Involved Public Policy Organizers, or HIPPO, a name significant because of the regional fame of the Hutto school's mascot), which was organized when the landfill was initially permitted in 1978. My friendships with members of the HCG and my concern for issues in my native county go far beyond my consulting work for TDS and explain my involvement in all of the Williamson County issues addressed in this book, though it is true that some of my knowledge about the landfill issues derive from research and other work I did in that consulting capacity. For purposes of full disclosure, however, I have no problem in stating for the record here that no one at Texas Disposal Systems—not its owners, lawyers, consultants, nor anyone else—knew about the writing of this book prior to its publication. The book was not underwritten financially nor related to TDS nor anyone at TDS in any way. Some of the critics of this book will likely claim otherwise, but they are wrong. In the context of dealing with the problem of achieving transparency in public and government venues, the pivotal factor, obviously, is in establishing the premise that transparency has such an intrinsic value that it must have a symbiotic relationship with a higher-order morality so that it can't be compromised. Stated in a more radical way, violating the principle of having transparency in public and government venues is as serious as other moral failures—such as committing a felony. While it might seem difficult to convince the public that failing to achieve transparency is as serious as allowing murder to go unprosecuted, a strong argument can be made for the notion that the consequences of non-transparency can be very serious and certainly injurious to the public interest. On another matter of transparency and full disclosure (and even though this subject received substantial treatment in the body of this book), I will elaborate regarding my personal view regarding the “religion-in-the-public-square” issue which is such a major element within the framework of such writers as Neuhaus and Benne and in local venues where the notion is played out in practice, such as Williamson County. My understanding of Neuhaus is that his real migration to the neoconservative, “public-square” position occurred after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that abortion was legal. It appears that the best way he felt he could combat it was through insertion of a Judeo-Christian moral code into the cultural (and legal) consideration of the issue. Undoubtedly, based on his extensive writings and broad subject treatment such as found in First Things, Neuhaus applied the “public square” position to other issues as well. For Benne, the changes in the perspectives and tactics of activists regarding civil rights and the Vietnam War apparently drove his migration to neoconservatism, though he later picked up on a specific moral issue in the same way that Neuhaus focused on abortion. For Benne, a primary driver was homosexuality in the context of the struggle within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) regarding how to deal with gay and lesbian clergy living in committed, monogamous relationships. I'll leave the specific moral and ethical considerations regarding these two issues for another book (and my views on both will come as somewhat of a surprise to those who simply want to classify me as a “liberal” without a deeply-detailed assessment because of perspectives rendered in this book. The focus right now is upon the use of the “religion-in-the-public-square” approach to public policy considerations and cultura