Having spent six years in the UK, I have a lot of feelings for the
country. I love its culture, its diversity, the parks, the London accent and
many other things. However, one thing does stand out: its freedom of the press.
For an average Canadian you may think I am being silly, but I come from a city
where reporters can be arrested for asking questions in a media conference. So,
freedom of the press is not exactly a God-given right in some parts of the world.
Anyway, the first time I heard about the
30-year rule I was fascinated. Back in my days as a student, it was an annual
event. Each year, all public records would be made available for public
inspection once they had been in existence for thirty years. Then the rules
were changed with effect from 2005. The essence of the change is that any
citizen can request a wide range of information even before the 30-year point,
though exceptions would apply to certain types of record.
A recent example is the disclosure of a
document about the Falklands war, which took place in 1982. For years, most
people had the perception that Margaret Thatcher had a very strong opinion
about the war and wanted to win at all cost. However, the document released in
2012 shows a different picture.
The spirit here is not what Margaret
Thatcher thought, but being a citizen means you have the rights to question
what really happens in your government. The 30-year rule, or whatever it is
called in other democratic countries, is there to protect sensitive information
and to make sure it cannot be destroyed without a very valid reason. But like I
said earlier, not every country has the same level of freedom and same level of
respect for public information. In 2012, I found out a huge amount of public
records were destroyed in Hong Kong – if you stack them up, it would be about
14 times the height of the Manitoba Hydro building in downtown Winnipeg.
There is no legislation in place to
protect the public record in Hong Kong, so there is no legal implication when
someone destroys any public record. Essentially they can burn every single
public record even as I type this blog (the person may be tried for arson, but
not for destroying public records).
The fourth estate hardly functions in Hong
Kong already, and the citizens – I call them the fifth estate, have no way to
find out what actually happens because any public record can be destroyed
anytime. I cannot help myself but to draw parallelism between Hong Kong in 2012
and Berlin in the 1930s.
God bless Hong Kong.