Recently I sat in on a meeting of the city council, my first offense in that line for many a year. It wasn't quite as mindnumbing an experience as usual; still, my own mind wandered, and I found myself mulling general principles, the "bigger picture," more than the particular issue at hand, which clearly had the full attention of most of the attending public.

First, I was reminded of the words of Nixon aid Erlichman, of Watergate notoriety: "Govemment is like sausage. If you like it, best not inquire too closely into how it's made." An uncle of mine worked in city government in several towns, years ago. The corruption and mismanagement typical of such entities in those days appalled him. Even if things are better in our time, they aren't perfect, nor ever will be. However ideal the setup, still it must be staffed and run by fallible, corruptible, often onthemake humans.

Then, the obscure term "mortmain" popped into my head. Medieval ecclesiastical assets were said to be under the "mortmain" ("dead hand") of the church, untaxable, "dead" forever to the general economy. Henry the Eighth despoiled the monasteries because so much of England's wealth had been swallowed up in the black hole of "mortmain."

Modernity's "church" is government. Clearly the prime example is the late unlamented USSR. Could there be a pithier characterization of Soviet economical doings than "dead hand?" Only the few tiny private farm plots, plus the black market, kept the thing going at all.

The notion insinuated itself in during the meeting that the city just might consider buying the gas service from Aquila, rather than negotiating a new franchise with them or others. Inevitably reminding a historian of the water service. Just before Missouri Public Service sold the city the latter, the average monthly household water bill was 50 cents. Mine now runs some $20, just double what inflation would account for. The "dead hand" is pricey, too! I'm sure I'll be chidingly reminded of reverse osmosis and myriad other marvels brought about by the selfless public servants now delivering our water. Still, it's almost an iron law that public enterprises are both costlier and clumsier than private. The "dead hand" is almost always (surprise!) deadening. A private concern must be efficient to survive; while government, having the tax base to fall back on, isn't motivated to turn a profit, or even break even. Moreover, gov ernment almost unfailingly slides in layers of bureaucracy, often consisting of kinfolks and cronies of officeholders, with or without qualifications.

Making a small town "go" requires the cooperation of countless individuals and entities, most of whom aren't officially part of "the city." The British have a useful word, "quango," or 44quasigovemmental organization." It's reasonable, I think, to call local publicprivate entities, such as the myriad city boards and commissions, "quangos." The public disquiet felt during the meeting seems to stem from the suspicion, justified or no, that "the city" is embarked on a systematic campaign to coopt, or castrate, those "quangos." My own first brush with it came in the economic field. My family owned stock in the NIDC, the wholly private economic development organization. Some years back, I signed over my stock to NAEDAC, its would be bigger, better successor. NAEDAC was being touted as a "quango," at least somewhat private. Yet, researching for an article, I was told by city hall that ... well, no, NAEDAC now was more or less just a telephone number ... the city manager's. (Sam Foursha, supposedly "the NAEDAC man," didn't rate a mention.) Then there's the Nevada Housing Authority, depicted to me, a mere benighted citizen, as a "quango" with responsibility confusingly, mischievously diffused (forgive my irresistible alliteration) between "Hubler and HUD." Contradictorily I'm told: All's routinely well at NHA; or, quoting Dickens's Stephen Blackpool, "'Tis all a muddle." All's drifting merrily along as ever; or the leadingstrings (city hall phone lines?) are strangling the critter.

Now it's the turn of the tourism board, a.k.a. Impact Nevada Tourism. So far as I know, this "quango" has worked well, better than many, its integrity verified by audit. Board members are private citizens who give generously of themselves. Yet, without their or anybody's advance knowledge, all out of the blue sky, the city's website blazoned the seeming decision to add an allnew layer to the bureaucratic cake, leavened with two salaried city officials (who, one presumes, don't have enough to do carrying out their legally prescribed duties).

One serving board member called it "a slap in the face" of them all. Should the proposed ukase actually come down, my crystal ball sees the whole board resigning in disgust.

Bringing us to a prize nitwit clause, seeming to confirm the sense that the city seeks noth ing less than to nudge (or slap?) all independent spirits clear out of the picture: Any board member faced with a "conflict of interest" must resign, no abstaining allowed.

Just who do the powers fancy is going to serve on that neutered and straitjacketed board? In a small town eliminating those with "conflicts of interest" is nothing short of disqualifying the qualified! Citizens willingly serve because they indeed have an "interest," on occasion inevitably "conflicted." The term "disinterested" is all too likely to wind up meaning "uninterested." The sole alternative I can see would be a hodgepodge of indifferent souls who "could care less" about tourism ... or at least less about it than about pleasing their mighty masters.

Are the boards being "boarded" one by one, like the prey of pirate ships? Is there indeed a master plan to tighten the government's leadingstrings over all the publicprivate operations in the community, to eliminate that allimportant "quasi" in "quasigovern, mental," to replace a vigorous if often messy democracy with ... a city hall telephone number? But then perhaps, in my curmudgeonly way, I'm looking at it all wrong. Perhaps the city manager and his cohorts should be praised for their oninicompetence, their assurance they can do it all, with ever less pesky putin from the peasants. Who needs Sam Foursha when they've got that dandy, reassuring telephone number? Who needs lowly volunteers cluttering up the tourism scene when they've got bureaucrats, their eagleeyes fixed on the main chance? Bureaucracy (the "dead hand") is a necessary evil. Its sole, proper function is to regulate, to oversee, leaving the actual operatings of society in "live hands," private ones. But that "dead hand" has a dismaying habit of developing and flexing its cadaveral muscles, butting in where it doesn't belong and can only do harm. Power, like hot air, gravitates to the top. And Lord Acton reminded us what power tends to do to frail mortals.

The Declaration of Independence's grievance against poor old King George might be said of more than one moderriday wouldbe monarch: "He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance."