My home in Melbourne sits near a train line. For years, an informal, unfenced path ran alongside it. Locals transformed this neglected strip into a sort of linear park – walking dogs, planting trees, and maintaining the grass. It was a demonstration of community spirit.
Then, without warning, access was abruptly cut off. Locked gates appeared at either end, adorned with stern warnings of severe penalties for trespassers. The once-cherished linear park quickly became overgrown and neglected. Simultaneously, existing fences in the area were doubled in height.
I can only speculate about the reasons behind these sudden actions. The most informed guess points to suicide prevention or, perhaps, an attempt to “protect us from ourselves.” If that’s the case, though, why isn’t the Bay Trail – a popular cycling path I occasionally use – similarly fenced? Parts of it run less than a metre from the bustling Beach Road, yet remain completely open.
This apparent inconsistency makes me wonder if this is another example of performative behaviour – what I call the politics of gesture. It seems more important to be seen to be doing something than to genuinely address the root cause of an issue that intervention may not even solve. After all, if someone wishes to end their life, numerous pedestrian crossings along the railway line remain accessible. I question whether blocking a small section of track and posting a Lifeline number truly deters someone facing dire circumstances, especially given the profound impact of their action on their loved ones, train drivers, and emergency services.
This rather local issue has led me to broader reflections on the nature of freedom and responsibility. The philosopher Isaiah Berlin distinguished between “freedom from” – such as freedom from fear, oppression, arbitrary arrest, and hunger, but also from unnecessary restrictions on our actions – and “freedom to,” the ability to act autonomously without infringing on the “freedom from” or “freedom to” of others.
A crucial role of governments and their agencies is to strike a proper balance between these two concepts: their duty of care on one hand, and their responsibility to foster individual agency on the other. An essential aspect of “freedom to” is that it comes with responsibility for one’s actions and their consequences, a responsibility that cannot be simply delegated away.
I see this fencing as a minor example of what I believe is a growing erosion of my “freedom to,” including constraints on freedom of expression. While it’s right and necessary to restrict speech that incites violence or hate, we must be careful not to stretch these definitions, particularly under pressure from well-funded influential groups. We risk stifling legitimate disagreement – upsetting the vital balance between “freedom from” and “freedom to.” As Voltaire supposedly said, though likely didn’t: “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”
To summarise, this reflection aims to highlight a few key points:
- Unnecessary Restriction: Government agents have, without consultation, unnecessarily limited our freedom to enjoy a community-developed linear park.
- Performative Action: This restriction appears to be a performative gesture, designed to give the impression that “something is being done,” even if its effectiveness is questionable.
- “Mother Knows Best” Philosophy: This incident is a small example of what feels like an increasing “mother knows best” attitude from all levels of government and their agencies.
- Eroding Expression: There’s a danger that in our pursuit of “freedom from offence,” we are inadvertently diminishing the ability to properly exercise individual expression.