Two words and an emoji: What caused six months of bureaucratic stonewalling

Monday, 14 June 2021

Random checks of MIQ hotels in February and March found staff shortages, returnees left to mingle in a lift lobby and bus drivers not wearing, or refusing to wear, all the required PPE (first published May 26).

OPINION: It was the hook-up that threatened to burst the bubble.

On January 7, a managed isolation & quarantine (MIQ) worker at the Grand Millennium Hotel in Auckland was busted in the room of a recent returnee.

The worker had earlier written a note to the returnee, and placed it in groceries delivered to her room.

That led to a 20-minute encounter, complete with a bottle of wine brought by the worker, in room 1210 – a major breach of Covid-19 security rules.

* Redacted - our official information problems and how to fix them

Grand Millennium Auckland, where there was a 20-minute encounter between an MIQ worker and a returnee in the latter’s room in January.

Details of the case were made public only in late January, with MIQ head Brigadier Jim Bliss describing the encounter as “incredibly irresponsible and extremely disappointing” – sentiments echoed by Covid-19 Response Minister Chris Hipkins.

Amid the tough talk, the worker was subsequently fired and the returnee given a warning by police. The pair tested negative for the virus.

But the contents of the note – written on a face mask – were not made public.

As a former journalist, I still get nosey from time to time. The missing detail made me wonder – what was in the note?

While that might seem trivial to some, it was a note from an MIQ worker in an important position, which led to a worrying Covid-19 breach. The point was not to out the worker in question, just to fully understand what happened.

What started as an exercise in curiosity ended as another frustrating case in the long and growing history of government agencies ignoring or refusing to meet their obligations under the Official Information Act.

It’s only after the intervention of Chief Ombudsman Peter Boshier that the contents of the note – which are short and utterly unremarkable – can be revealed at all, after six months of delays and refusals.

What is remarkable is the time, effort and taxpayer money that have been wasted over what amounts to two short words and an emoji.

Simon Bradwell: ‘’By contrast to the government agencies, the Office of the Ombudsman has been unfailingly helpful, polite and prompt.’’

The day the incident was made public in January, I filed an Official Information Act request with the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (MBIE), requesting the contents of the notes. MBIE is the ministry ultimately responsible for managing managed isolation and quarantine.

Although a reason doesn’t have to be given for an OIA request, there was obviously a public interest in a quarantine breach that could have spread Covid-19 into the community.

A request was also filed for correspondence between the Ministry of Health (MoH) and Hipkins on the matter.

Anticipating and attempting to head off privacy issues, I specifically acknowledged that any identifying details of the pair, and details of any employment action, would be redacted from the results.

On February 17, MBIE advised that it was transferring the request in two parts, to NZ Police and the MoH because “the information requested is more closely aligned with the functions of these departments”.

According to guidelines published by the Office of the Ombudsman, agencies can transfer a request, but it should be made within 10 days of receiving the request.

It was pointed out to MBIE that it had not met that timeframe, there had been no consultation with me, and I lodged a complaint with the Ombudsman. MBIE never acknowledged it had failed to comply with the guidelines.

On February 22, the MoH advised it could not find any correspondence relating to the request – despite Hipkins telling journalists he had been briefed on the incident shortly after it happened. Hmm.

MBIE, having already taken too long to transfer the request, then wrote on March 1 advising that it was seeking an extension to the request.

A week later, Superintendent Barry Taylor formally replied from Police HQ, refusing to release the contents of the note, citing section 9 (2)(a) of the OIA: “to protect the privacy of natural persons”.

This, even though my OIA request was clear that I did not seek or expect details of the pair’s identities.

When I informed the Ombudsman, he agreed to investigate the police decision.

On March 22, MBIE released some documents about the case – but withheld other material, also citing the privacy clause and to maintain the effective conduct of public affairs by the government.

“I do not consider that the withholding of this information is outweighed by public interest considerations,” proclaimed Group Captain Peter Johnson, general manager MIQ operations at MBIE.

Among the half-dozen documents that were released, an email from Simon Sanders, principal adviser – head of MIQ, to MBIE did confirm that it was likely an “intimate liaison” had occurred in room 1210.

However, the timing of the encounter is confused. Sanders’ email says the staff member entered the room at 7.31pm and stayed for 20 minutes.

But a Defence Force document – author’s name redacted – says the worker entered the room at 7.45pm and was discovered about 8.10pm.

Meanwhile, the Ombudsman was investigating the police refusal.

And on May 28, the Ombudsman wrote to me confirming that police should not have refused my request and had been told to release the contents.

Not that they did so straight away. Finally on June 10, a full six months after this process began, Superintendent Barry Taylor sent me the contents of the note that had been the subject of such a bureaucratic brick wall.

The note simply says: “Txt me [smily face emoji]”, with a mobile phone number.

Why NZ Police would refuse to release such an innocuous message, then spend so much time and effort defending that decision – on privacy grounds, remember – is a complete mystery.

It could possibly be argued at a pinch that revealing the contents of the note shows how easily security measures could be circumvented by determined individuals.

But privacy? It seems laughable.

I have zero doubt that both MBIE and Police HQ thought I would just go quietly away, and their high-handed response would go unchallenged.

They probably rely on that, and it probably works in many cases. It’s so ridiculous that the Office of the Ombudsman should have to investigate and rule on such a straightforward and minor matter.

But thank goodness it does. By contrast to the government agencies, the Office of the Ombudsman has been unfailingly helpful, polite and prompt.

At the end of this, what was in the note doesn’t matter. What does matter is how this process shows that some agencies treat the OIA – and requestors – with disdain.

If such a trivial matter is kept under wraps, what else is?

• I sought the information and publish this article as a private citizen and not in any professional capacity.