North State Breakdown episode 25 - Manufactured Outrage

Description:

The Breakdown investigates the August 13th Shasta County Board of Supervisors meeting, where Board Chair Kevin Crye's decision to limit public comment created public unrest. We explore the implications of this move, the spreading of misinformation, and the impact on county staff caught in the middle of this political turmoil.

Episode 25 Transcript:

Welcome back to North State Breakdown with Benjamin Nowain. In this episode, we're going to discuss the Shasta County Board of Supervisors meeting that took place on August 13th. While not a new issue, this meeting further exposed deep divisions, sparked intense debates, and, most concerning of all, raised serious questions about how public participation is being managed—or manipulated—by those in power.

To understand the full impact of the August 13th meeting, we need to look at the events leading up to it. For months, the Shasta County Board of Supervisors has been a stage for escalating tensions over recent appointments to the Elections Commission, including my own and Nathaniel Pinkney's, both of which were rejected. These decisions have been highly contentious, drawing sharp lines between different factions within the community and the board itself.

But the August 13th meeting wasn't just another chapter in this ongoing saga. It was marked by a significant and controversial decision made by Board Chair Kevin Crye to limit public comment during a crucial agenda item—the appointment of Brad Garbutt to the Elections Commission. This move didn’t just shift the tone of the meeting—it has potentially far-reaching consequences for how citizens perceive their role in local governance.

Adding to the controversy is the fact that one of the previous appointees who now sits on the Elections Commission, Patty Plumb, has raised serious concerns among many in the community. Before her appointment, Plumb was seen holding a sign that read "election fraud happens here" in front of the elections office—an allegation for which no evidence was provided. More recently, she has been seen wearing a shirt that says "pure blood," a phrase that carries disturbing connotations, including ties to Nazi ideals. These actions by a sitting member of the Elections Commission only further polarize the community and raise questions about the integrity of the board’s decisions.

During the agenda item for Brad Garbutt’s appointment, Crye decided to limit public comment from the usual 3 minutes down to 2 minutes. This reduction might seem minor on the surface, but it had a significant impact on those who may have prepared longer speeches, effectively preventing them from fully conveying their thoughts on this important issue. While this action is technically allowable under the board’s rules and the Brown Act, the decision to cut public speaking time outside of the standard 3 minutes should have been communicated to the public prior to the meeting. By not doing so, Crye caught many off guard, leaving them unable to adjust their remarks accordingly.

Public comment periods are one of the few opportunities citizens have to directly engage with their elected officials, and cutting this time short can easily make people feel like their voices don’t matter. Limiting public comment in this manner, especially without prior notice, sends a troubling message: that the voices of the people are not as valued as they should be. It’s an elected official's duty to keep the peace during these meetings and to avoid making controversial moves that could sow discord. Instead, Crye’s decision only fueled frustration and anger, emotions that were already running high.

But Crye didn’t stop there. After the meeting, he recorded a video where he went on to spin a narrative that Supervisor Mary Rickert, one of his critics, had previously shut down the boardroom during the COVID-19 pandemic. This claim is not only misleading—it’s an outright distortion of the facts. The decision to close the boardroom in 2020 wasn’t made by Rickert alone; it was a state-directed measure that the board majority, including Rickert, voted on to protect public health. At that time, we were facing a novel virus, one that was spreading rapidly and causing widespread fear and uncertainty. The closure was a necessary step to safeguard the community while still allowing public participation through remote means, as supported by the Brown Act.

Crye’s attempt to rewrite history by pinning the boardroom closure on Rickert is not just ludicrous—it’s a dangerous tactic that undermines trust in our local government. It’s important to remember that Crye wasn’t even politically involved back then, making his assertions all the more baseless. He seems to be using this narrative to distract from his own controversial decision to limit public comment and to paint his critics as hypocrites.

One of the statements Supervisor Patrick Jones made on August 13th caught my attention.  Certain members of the board don’t respect the authority of the board majority. Jones’s statement is steeped in irony, given his own history of allowing people into closed meetings multiple times, including on his very first day in office on January 5th, 2021, and again on August 17th, 2021, when a meeting was canceled due to not having a quorum. Jones’s actions demonstrate a selective respect for the rules, applying them strictly when it suits his agenda and bending them when it doesn’t.

Jones’s past behavior and Crye’s recent actions suggest a troubling trend: the rules and standards of governance are being weaponized to stifle opposition and control the narrative. By limiting public comment and spreading misinformation, they’re not just managing meetings—they’re manipulating the very fabric of our local democracy.

But let’s not forget the people who are often caught in the crossfire during these heated meetings—the county staff who have to work in this increasingly hostile environment. If the public is being manipulated into outrage, the staff who are present during these meetings are also being placed in a difficult and potentially unsafe situation. The constant tension, the shouting, and the possibility of conflict can make for a toxic workplace atmosphere.

Manipulating the public in this way could be seen as a form of workplace harassment. It puts the staff in a position where they have to manage not just the logistics of the meeting but also the emotional and physical safety of everyone involved. It’s one thing to navigate the normal challenges of public service, but it’s another to have to do so in a charged environment where conflict is deliberately stoked.

And That’s the Breakdown