AFTER years of campaigning, court battles, and enough glossy flyers to wallpaper the Hume Highway, Mitchell Shire Council has exactly nothing to show for its fight against the Beveridge North West quarry, unless you count the million-dollar crater it blew in its own budget.
The Victorian Planning Minister’s decision to green-light the quarry, despite fierce local opposition, has left residents angry, disillusioned, and muttering the obvious: why on earth did council pour so much money into a fight it was never going to win?
It’s the kind of question now echoing not just in council chambers, but in kitchens, cafés, and the less-polite corners of Facebook.
“Stop filling my letterbox with rubbish mail,” snapped one Kilmore resident online. “Feel free to reduce my rates if you’re going to waste my money on opposing this development.”
That comment pretty much nails the growing sentiment: council’s been off chasing political dragons instead of, you know, fixing the roads, collecting the rubbish, or doing anything that looks like delivering value for rates.
The million-dollar tilt at a windmill: between 2016 and 2022, Mitchell Shire Council threw more than $1.3 million into this grand anti-quarry quest—and we still don’t know the final tab. Legal fees, planning consultants, public relations campaigns, flyers, postcards if there was a way to spend money without actually changing the outcome, council found it.
The campaign was passionate. Also powerless. The State Government had the only vote that mattered, and council never had the authority to say “no” in the first place.
So what’s left? A big, fat nothing. While bins overflow and potholes swallow hubcaps, council poured cash into advocacy that delivered zero results. That’s not “visionary leadership.” That’s bad judgement with a letterhead.
What $1.3 Million could have done (if it hadn’t gone up in legal smoke)?
It could have upgraded roads. Funded better waste services. Fixed drainage in flood-prone areas. Or maybe eased ratepayers’ bills during the cost-of-living crunch.
Instead, it disappeared into a black hole of legal briefs and PR spin. And what came out the other end? Frustration, and maybe a few councillors’ LinkedIn profiles looking a bit more impressive.
Seriously, it’s time to get back to basics.
Mitchell Shire is one of Victoria’s fastest-growing regions, which means real pressure on infrastructure and services. Residents don’t want spin. They want the three Rs: roads, rubbish, and rates.
The quarry is a done deal. But it should be a wake-up call: local councils aren’t Parliament, and ratepayers aren’t funding a political hobby shop. The job is simple—deliver services, maintain infrastructure, and spend public money like it’s actually precious.
Mitchell Shire now faces a choice: keep playing at political theatre, or get back to being an actual council.
For the sake of residents—and the bins, roads, and budgets they depend on—let’s hope they choose the boring option. Because boring gets the job done.
But then that’s just my opinion.
