Democracy demands more than blind obedience
- Grant McLachlan

- Dec 15, 2025
- 3 min read
I’ve been following Rodney Local Board member Geoff Upson’s campaign for more effective road safety measures with interest. His recent Facebook post, filmed beside an average speed camera on Pine Valley Road, questioned the rationale behind its installation. Upson raised valid concerns, yet the comment section revealed a disturbing civic illiteracy about how democracy actually works.
The facts are striking. According to NZTA’s Crash Analysis System, only three serious crashes occurred near this camera location between 2018 and 2023 – all at lifestyle block entrances some distance away. Despite this minimal crash history, Auckland Transport lowered the speed limit from 100km/h to 80km/h and installed a speed camera. The result? NZTA’s own data shows over 74% of drivers now exceed the new limit, with average speeds sitting around 90km/h.
The road itself tells another story. Pine Valley Road is notably straighter than connecting routes that have higher crash incidences. Yet it’s poorly maintained, plagued by tar bleeds, potholes, uneven surfaces, and loose chip. The optics aren’t good: lower the limit, install a camera, collect fines, but don’t fix the road.
This matters because it exemplifies a national problem I’ve explored previously. When New Zealand lowered rural speed limits, we created a perverse outcome: slower speeds increased overtaking attempts, worsening safety rather than improving it. Research from NZTA showed that when limits dropped from 100km/h to 80km/h, fatal and serious injury crashes actually increased on some roads. The Journal of Safety Research confirms that inappropriately low limits can increase crash risk by encouraging speed variance and aggressive driving.
Enter the trolls. “If you followed the speed limit, you wouldn’t get a ticket,” they bleat. “What a narcissist,” sneers another.
These comments expose a civic ignorance that should alarm every New Zealander. They reveal citizens who fundamentally misunderstand where laws come from and what elected officials are supposed to do.
Let’s be clear: Geoff Upson isn’t advocating lawbreaking. He’s doing precisely what elected representatives are meant to do – scrutinising bureaucratic decisions, questioning their effectiveness, and building public awareness of policies implemented without proper oversight. When 74% of drivers exceed a speed limit, that’s not a compliance problem – it’s a policy problem.
Laws don’t descend from heaven etched in stone. They emerge from bureaucratic processes that can be flawed, politically motivated, or simply wrong. In New Zealand’s system, officials in entities like Auckland Transport and NZTA wield enormous power with limited democratic accountability. They can lower speed limits, install enforcement infrastructure, and collect millions in fines – often with minimal consultation and even less transparency.
This is where elected officials become crucial. They’re not merely administrators implementing decisions from on high. They’re our constitutional check against bureaucratic overreach and poor policy design. When Upson questions a speed camera’s placement, he’s performing his democratic duty to scrutinise decisions that affect his constituents’ daily lives and wallets.
The “just obey the law” mentality is civic sleepwalking. It assumes laws are inherently just, that bureaucratic decisions are always sound, and that citizens should meekly comply regardless of outcomes. This isn’t democracy – it’s authoritarianism with a friendly face.
History teaches us that bad laws remain bad laws until someone stands up and says so. From unjust parking restrictions to speed limits set for revenue rather than safety, local government is littered with rules that serve bureaucratic convenience rather than public good. Without elected officials willing to challenge these decisions publicly, they become permanent fixtures regardless of merit.
Upson’s campaign illuminates another uncomfortable truth: many New Zealanders have forgotten how democracy works. We’ve become so accustomed to bureaucratic edicts that we’ve lost sight of the difference between legitimate authority and mere power. When citizens attack elected officials for questioning official decisions, they’re not defending law and order – they’re undermining the very mechanisms that keep government accountable.
The speed camera on Pine Valley Road isn’t ultimately about traffic safety. It’s about whether we want elected officials who rubber-stamp bureaucratic decisions or representatives who ask hard questions and demand better answers. Geoff Upson chose the latter path, and for that, he deserves applause rather than abuse.
Democracy requires more than ballot boxes every three years. It demands ongoing scrutiny, persistent advocacy, and citizens who understand that laws derive their legitimacy not from enforcement cameras, but from public consent built on sound reasoning and transparent process.


