If you wanted to see the ideals of democracy in action, and its dismaying and seedy modern local government reality, a good vantage point last week were the council chambers of my home town in Geelong.
Since the Andrews government turfed out its council last year, the City of Greater Geelong has been run by a bunch of hand-picked apparatchiks who effectively rule by fiat.
One of these fiats was last month to announce, without consultation, with barely an explanation, and without right of review, the closure of three well-used and well-loved local libraries, at Chilwell, Highton and Barwon Heads.
This could not be right, said residents who depend on these libraries. They have mounted a campaign – a model of civic engagement, in fact, representative, organised and courteous.
Three hundred residents attended the council meeting, holding superb home-made placards, presenting bible-thick petitions containing thousands of signatures.
Fifteen individuals, having gone through the rigmarole of registering online, took turns at the microphone asking questions of such detail and logic, replete with usage statistics, demographic data and compelling quotations from the council's own documents, that one wished they were journalists.
The closures will generate minuscule savings. They will undermine carefully nurtured communities. They will deprive of resources nearby primary schoolchildren without their own school libraries; they will hurt the elderly who depend on them for social contact.
They form part of the steady chipping away of the city's amenities. Just over 10 years ago, Chilwell's library was "merged" with neighbouring Newtown's; it is now the area's last remaining community hub.
In these hurried, hustling times, where it seems impossible to find a place simply to sit without someone trying to sell you a $1 coffee for $4.50, libraries are one of the last remaining bastions in our cities and towns of repose and sanctuary. Victoria has 2.1 million public library members who paid them more than 30 million visits last year.
Anyway, so compelling were the questions as to seem unanswerable. And that's exactly what happened. The administrators didn't answer them. Not one.
The chairwoman hadn't turned up anyway. Instead, her ineffectual locum curtailed the questions, granted a few additional weeks of after-the-fact "consultation", recited some boilerplate about "service models" and "21st century blah blah", and moved the meeting clumsily on to matters more congenially irrelevant.
Their idea is that people can just breeze along to the city centre's $45 million flagship library, very impressive from the outside but with all the appeal of a hotel lobby inside, with space for a cafe that's never been used, and around which a carpark is prohibitively expensive even assuming you can find one.
So the chamber emptied – quite enough democracy had been permitted for one night.
What do you do about that? There is not even the satisfaction of voting the imperious administrators out: although apparently they wanted their sinecure to extend a couple of extra years, they finish in October, after the slated closure dates.
The state government purports to love libraries. "Libraries are so important to local communities," claims local government minister Natalie Hutchins on every other press release. "That's why we're investing to build and upgrade libraries across our state."
Yet when the affected Geelong residents wrote to Hutchins, they received one of those chill pro-forma "not our affair" responses so characteristic of the Andrews government.
You might consider seeking support from the Geelong Football Club, a powerful influence in the city, and the beneficiary of many taxpayers' and ratepayers' dollars over the years.
Yet the Cats, too, replied with a "not a cause we can commit to" message. Maybe the footballers' children don't read.
You might turn for solace to the State Library of Victoria, equally awash with cash. I did. Donuts.
The ABC took an interest – in fact, nothing could have illustrated so effectively why people are protective of their national broadcaster. A hard-working local radio/television/online reporter came to the council meeting, interviewed the parties, produced valuable content.
Jon Faine invited the administrators on: they claimed to be too busy with their "second stage" of consultation, after the first stage that didn't happen.
Otherwise it seems that unelected officials can exercise unilateral powers profoundly affecting the quality of life of thousands of people, and damn all can be done.
And for what? To loosen up some real estate for development? To justify a prestige project that is better at impressing than serving?
The administrators talked grandly of a "vision", yet clearly had not the glimmer of a plan – they were simply holding the line until, come October, it will be someone else's problem.
But it's everyone's problem, even if you have never been to these libraries and don't live in these areas. When good citizens walk away disillusioned and disgusted by those meant to serve them, it is a loss we all share.
Gideon Haigh is a librarian's son, grew up to love reading in Geelong libraries, and is the author of 32 books.